#please role play as my crown again

[acis-arts]

The shit I draw when I hang out with @xadhd-cryptidx

[luveline]

also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 

“Yeah, babe.” 

“No thanks.” 

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 

“I’ll have socks.” 

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 

“Why?” 

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 

“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 

“No shoes,” Amy says. 

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 

[rednotebooksworld]

A Fae MonsterFucker Mini-Fic, as a little treat~

Androgynous “pretty Boi” Fae Monster looking for a suitable Mate.. and one Human girl looking to snag herself a Fae husband because she grew up with the old tales of women being whisked away by the terrifying but gorgeous “neighbors” of the old wood~ who were supposedly never seen again, unless someone caught a glimpse of her fully pregnant when walking with her Fae lover..

She’s not to fond of the nosy towns people that live down the hill, her Aunt’s a known Fae fucker too, so can you really blame her for not seeing a down side to this?

The Human girl who lives with her kind but sassy “mouth of a sailor” Auntie, spending most her days in the garden (in perfect view of the forest) while singing songs of Fae Lovers and twirling in her short dresses as she waters her favorite flowers.. knowing the Fae love to dance and spin in circles~

Her aunt smirking at her niece playing up the innocent role, knowing her little plot is working as she notices the circle of mushrooms growing under her niece’s bedroom window.. a Fae Lover has chosen her already.

The brooding Fae who watches the human girl with longing possessive eyes, waiting for the chance to show himself, to trick her into being his and his only.. All he needs is her to willingly give her Name to him, and make a deal~

The Fae seizing his opportunity when he sees her in the woods alone for the first time, a sad look on her pretty face..

He relishes the look of awe in her eyes at his appearance.. a long slender framed body with pale green skin, sharp black nails on his fingers, sharp teeth in his charming smile, long ears, large glowing golden eyes and dark green hair flowing around him in waves as leafs and flowers adorned his locks like gems, dear-like antlers glittering like opal moonstones resting above his brow like a crown, and flowing robes of thin green silk that fell off one shoulder and left little to the imagination.. a splendid sight to be see for sure~

“Sweet, lovely thing~ why the tears? Tell me what ails you.. and I shall make all pleasant as warm honey with your heart~ for a price~”

gently he held her chin up with a single finger, grin turning wide as a Cheshire as she grasped his larger hand softly in her own with pleading doe eyes and rosy cheeks~

“M-My aunt.. she’s sick.. she’s all the family I have.. I.. I don’t know what to do.”

He knelt down as his figure cast a tall shadow over her, as he realized she wore only her lace nightgown, My how perfect she looks gazing up at him so intently like that..

“Give me your Name, my dearest, and swear to me and me alone your first night.. and your first born~ I shall see to it your Aunt recovers and lives all her days healthy and strong… perhaps a long life as well~”

He could feel how she trembled at his words.. but he had yet to see any fear in her as her gaze turned heavy, giving up Her Name to him without hesitation..

“I swear it~ you may take my heart if it pleases you, my lord~”

He growled as she spoke those delicious words to him.. how sweet.. how delicious…. How curious was she~ a fine Mate for him indeed~

He slowly laid her down on her back as he hovered over her, his long luscious hair falling around them as he kissed her tenderly with honeyed passion, her precious moans tingling his ears as he raised a slender hand up her legs, lifting her dress skirt, only to rip her underwear clean off!

He could smell her arousal burning his nose, how sweet and inviting a scent as he bit her lips and grasped her breast as he shoved two fingers in her wet pussy and started stretching her wide with his fingers.. using his fingers to fuck her with skilled precision, only pulling his lips away from their kiss as she cummed on his hand.. her red lips gasping for breath~

“Tell me, my delicious little human~ what sickness has wrought your dear Aunt, that you would have me RAVAGE you~ make you MINE and Ruin you to any other pathetic male that would dare look at you~”

He quickly shoved his thick cock into her tight and dripping pussy right as she opened her mouth.. a guttural shriek the only thing she could muster as he slammed into her three times, filling her till they were hip to hip.. though he refused to move again till she gave him an answer~

She hastily wrapped her arms around his neck, roughly kissing him with pure hunger as she then gripped his horns and intwined her legs with his.. he froze at the look of predatory lust in her eyes.. My what a new and interesting development this turned out to be~

She weekly fained an innocent look, though she no longer bothered to make it convincing..

“Oh~ terrible allergies I’m afraid~ I feared she might never breathe properly again..”

His Golden eyes turned black as his Cheshire grin returned with glee at hearing this.. she..

SHE.. TRICKED.. HIM??

Ooooh ho ho ho ho~ A Mate this clever and patient was truly worth the wait~ he’ll be sure to reward her for that one~

He began pounding her at full force, her head rolling from side to side against the grass below as her grip tightened on his horns~ shoving his face into her neck he started to fill her with his seed~ Breeding her for as long as he desired.. after all.. thay made a deal. He will have her first Born~ and every single child he fucks into her pretty womb after that~

“Clever little Mate~ you wanted to be Bred like this? Didn’t you.. to be made a Fae’s Bride? Answer me! MY MATE! Or else I won’t fuck my brood in you~”

“Y-YES!! YES!!! Oh Yes!! I-I want this!! Please~ Breed me! MY LOVE!! P-PLEASE!!!!”

He purred at her, declaring her Love to him, to a Fae~ before he even finished Mating her~

He decides to do what not many of his kind do anymore.. Truly claims a Human as his one and only Mate~ instead of just Fucking her once.. he’s Fully going to be Breeding her to completion~

His Mate.. His Bride.. His Breeding Mother.. HIS… she’s HIS!!!

By the time she walks out that forest~ her legs tremble with every step, her dress dirty, stained with grass and the smell of sex, though it takes some time to realize she DID NOT in fact spend just a single night with her Fae Lover.. in fact he was Breeding her for a full week straight, and not long after till she starts to notice a new point at the tips of her ears..

She turns around, Smiling lovingly out at the edge of the forest as she rubs her barely round belly.. the Golden eyes of her Love grinning back at her~

Her Aunt soon emerging from their home to congratulate her, as she herself just returned from spending a few nights with her own husband…. The very kelpie that lives in the lake just behind their little cottage…

“… So.. your uncle wants to know if you invited your new Husband over for dinner? Or is he just going to keep fucking you in the woods??”

The girl turned to smile mischievously at her Aunt, unfazed by her later question..

“Yes! I did, He’s coming by a little later, he wanted to grab a few flowers for the baby first.. and also yes he will~ he’s a truly remarkably skilled Lover~ among other things~”

Her Aunt started cackling as she lead her niece inside for a nice warm bath, and then some tea and fruits for the growing babe.

“Oooh~ got a feisty one did you? Good girl! Perhaps that taste runs in the family after all!”

Sheeeesh! This is so good 😭

Hot too 😏

Claps for you 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[ataleofcrowns]

New Chapter Released!

Hello again! Hope your summer has gone well ☀��

With the public release of this new chapter, the romances are starting to intersect and interact with the main plot:

Unique paths for each love interest, encompassing a completely different plot event that the Crown will have to deal with

D and X's routes heavily involve the Imperial Court, where the Crown's previous choices on court positions will be first illustrated in the story

Meanwhile, R and A have unique events happening regarding some concerning magic that has left R in trouble, and an investigation that has lead A astray

Each route will force the Crown to make an important decision that will be remembered by their love interest. If you pick a bad choice here, even if you get a good romance later on, your love interest will remember it...

An additional note on this chapter: due to its sheer size and variability, I didn't have a chance to send it to my beta readers on time, so you may find more errors/bugs in it than what you're used to from me. Please report them in this Google Form or in the Discord server if possible!

Thank you for all your patience and support, I hope you enjoy the new chapter ✨

For those that are unfamiliar with the game

A Tale of Crowns is a high fantasy romance story, told in the form of a text-based interactive novel with choice mechanics. The setting is inspired by Kurdish culture as well as other historical settings in the Middle East such as Ancient Persia, but it also draws heavily from other cultures and countries in the region.

Your character is native to Arsur, a vast empire overseen by a single ruler known as the Crown. Unlike traditional monarchies, however, the title is not inherited through blood. Whenever the Crown dies, their famed golden eyes pass on to the one chosen by the Spirits of this world to be the new Crown. In this story, your MC takes on that role.

There are four different love interests to choose from, whose genders will be customized to suit the preferences of your Crown. You can find more info about them on the blog page!

Also note that this current version of the game is safe for those 16 years and older.

Like the premise so far? Play it and give it a try! The entire game is free!

If you enjoyed the game, please reblog! Share it with your friends! Recognition and reader interaction is just about the only thing I get in return for creating it ❤️

[longing-for-rain]

hey there!

please don't take this the wrong way, because i'm genuinely just asking. i've seen your criticism of aang and kataang appear on my dash from time to time, and it just got me wondering: how can you enjoy the show?

i understand that you feel passionate about katara, and i suppose about the entire story, but. aang is like on screen 90% of the time, and he gets his happy ending too (as happy as it can be, of course, with having his entire culture and people on the brink of non-existence). how do you reconcile your love for the show with your dislike for its main character and how the narrative rewards him?

and once again, please understand that i'm not attacking. i'm just curious to see at what point does someone stop being a fan and start being simply critical of a certain media, if you know what i mean.

thank you for answering if you do, and cheers!:)

I just don’t pay attention to him very much. Even in the finale, Zuko’s ending and story stands out more to me. Him standing before the crowd in his sparkling crown, announcing that he wants to bring in a new era of love and peace, that’s powerful to me. Watching Zuko go from an abused boy who thinks his only worth comes from accomplishing an impossible task in his desperation to appease his abuser, to a literal king taking back his power and using it for good, is a powerful story.

As for Katara, to me, her true ending is the Agni Kai. I wrote a whole post about it. That is the culmination of her arc, where she is able to display her power and use it to overthrow the regime that she’d grown up being terrorized by. And then after Zuko was nearly killed, Katara was able to save his life just like he saved hers. The way their stories intertwined was beautiful, and it was a beautiful conclusion to Katara’s story, watching her not have to feel helpless for once and bringing the change she’d always dreamed of.

As you can probably tell, these are my favorite characters so I was satisfied by their endings. To be honest on my rewatch, I usually kind of just skim the Aang vs. Ozai fight because it’s just an anime battle. The characters hadn’t even met prior to the fight, so the emotional depth is lacking compared to the Final Agni Kai.

As for the balcony scene? I don’t watch it. And I think it says a lot that by simply not watching it, nothing is lost. It adds nothing to either character and only serves to give Aang a reward. Before that moment, nothing about the finale suggested Katara wanted that at all. Neither character played a significant role in the other’s finale arc. There was absolutely no narrative significance between them.

But there was for Zuko and Katara.

To me, Katara ended the story as a heroine and warrior, not a love interest. With Zuko, that was her ending. So that’s the real ending to me, because that’s what her character means to me.

[kurishiri]

official IkeVil JP twitter role-played with fans as Roger

translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties. Please reblog, not repost!

and here are some of my favorite responses and some tidbits about Roger (and some others, through his eyes) 🥹👌 also I wouldn’t consider these spoilers; they’re more like bite sized fun facts you might find in a random scene in some random side story or event or something lmao also I don’t like the green gun emoji on my phone so I’m using the beer one instead.

1. Roger is trying to get along with Alfons (it’s not working so well though I guess, haha)

💬: Roger!! Have you been getting along with Alfons recently?

🍻: That’s always my intention, but whenever I see him he gives me a kind of disgusted look. So maybe he’s just shy or something.

2. maybe Victor is trying to get everyone drunk…?

💬: Roger, have you gone out to drink with Victor before?

🍻: I don’t think Victor really drinks outside. If anything, he’s the one bringing some good booze back to Crown for us. Could it be — he’s scheming something and trying to get us drunk?

3. Roger can crack a joke 😂👌

💬: I kind of just ate this without knowing what that liquid is, but what is it, actually? 🧪

🍻: That’s a love potion. If you drink it you won’t be able to think about anything but me——just kidding.

4. Roger and Ellis are the strongest!

💬: Who is the strongest in Crown?

🍻: Me, followed by Ellis. You wanna compare our strength now with an arm wrestle? Though I reckon you wouldn’t be able to win against me even if you used both hands.

5. Roger’s worst fight with Alfons

💬: Please tell us the worst episode of a fight you’ve had with Alfons〜!!

🍻: Once during a mission we got into an argument where Al and I almost died — that day I’ve never seen Victor look that quietly angry before.

6. drinking with William! (they’re the older bros of the group)

💬: What do you talk about with William when you drink with him?

🍻: Will knows a lot, so we’ll talk about all sorts of stuff. Like how Victor’s overworking himself, or how Jude’s got bad feet, or how Liam hurt himself again——wait, what are we, their guardians?

7. Alfons bombed the drinking date

💬: Hey Roger, what sweets do you like? Other than Alfons’ scone.

🪞: Are we talking about me? Oh, that’s my handmade scone that I put a lot of love into. Don’t you feel naughty with just one bite? What do you think is in it?

🍻: Hey, you, get out and go somewhere else already.

8. drinking with Elbie!

💬: Have you drank with Lord Elbert before? 🥺🍻💚💙

🍻: I have, yes. But I can never tell whether he’s drunk or not.

🪞: That’s because he always looks drunk.

🍻: Oy, Al, what are you doing here? Tonight’s supposed to be just me and the lil lady, so don’t get in the way like that. Shoo shoo!

9. Roger doesn’t just drink beer (surprise surprise!)

💬: What do you like to drink other than beer?

🍻: I also drink whisky, though I always prefer beer. What about you, lil lady?

10. Roger comforts you after a long day of work

💬: Roger, I finally finished work…

🍻: There, there, you did well. I remember your efforts very well. Good job today.

11. Jude and drinking, according to Roger

💬: When you’re drinking with Jude, have you seen him when drunk before? I want to know what he’s like when he’s drunk.

🍻: Can’t say I’ve seen him drunk before. It seems like that guy always got a calm look on his face, no matter how much he drinks.

12. what Ellis is like when drunk

💬: Cheers! I have a question, what is Ellis like when drunk?

🍻: Ellis isn’t that weak to alcohol… but he becomes a bit more fluffy than normal, I guess. But he can walk back to the castle just fine.

13. trying to get Ellis drunk…?!

💬: I heard Ellis is a little weak to alcohol. Have you taken care of him when he was drunk? Also how many cups does it take for him to become drunk?

🍻: Pfft, haha… Are you trying to get Ellis drunk? I’ll have you know Ellis is like a cute younger brother to me, so I won’t tell. I have taken care of him though——let’s leave it at that.

14. who can hold their alcohol in Crown?

💬: Who is the worst at holding their alcohol in Crown?

🍻: I think everyone in Crown is pretty good at holding their alcohol. But should we put that to the test? …No way, this really isn’t for me to gather information on them?

15. he be takin care of Crown when they’re drunk

💬: Who do you drink with most often? And have you taken care of someone when they got drunk!?

🍻: Taking care of someone… Ellis — no, Al, maybe? Oh, and also Jude… whoops, can’t say any more than that, or he’ll be after me.

16. what Harry drinks

💬: I always get the impression Harry drinks strawberry milk a lot, but when it comes to alcohol, what does he drink? I want to know 🦊🍸

🍻: Harry likes whisky soda. It goes well with chocolate, and I’ve seen him eating it together with the drink. Noww then, now that I’ve told you some important information, you’ll stop that lying fox from eating too much sweets for me, won’t you?

17. Roger’s advice for those who simp to the point of illness 😆

💬: My friends love you to the point they might be a little ill, Roger. They love you so much it’s too much for me to handle. Is there medicine to make them feel better?

🍻: I can introduce you to a doctor I know who has some good medicine. Want me to? His name’s Roger Barel.

18. he cooks?!?!

💬: I want to eat a meat entree with you, Roger! (this is sausage and roast pork that I made) 😋🍽️🥩✨ What’s your favorite type of meat? And what other foods do you like?

🍻: I would say steak, but any meat is good. But I also like salty things too. Sometimes I make things that go well with alcohol. Want some?

19. oh..? 😳

💬: Yippeeee✨✨✨ it’s everyone’s older brother Roger!! Congrats on your main story🎉💕 I really look forward to this summer! (I have 🦑 with beer)

🍻: You have as much excitement as Victor! For sure, look forward to it. I’ll make it a summer you won’t ever forget.

20. Roger’s recommended drinks

💬: I want to know your drink recommendations!

🍻: Mine is beer, beer, and more beer. Ah, having some ginger ale in between seems pretty good too.

21. he drinks with Ellis and Jude often!

💬: Out of the members of Crown, who have you been drinking with recently? Have you drank with them several times…! 🍻✨

🍻: I go out to drink with Jude and Ellis quite a bit. Well, I think I prefer drinking together with you the most though.

22. he loves meat at the end of the day eheh

💬: I’m thinking of drinking with you tonight🍻 What do you eat (snack) with alcohol? I’m thinking chips goes well.

🍻: My favorite is salty meat. But chips go well with beer too. Should we order some?

23. Roger’s advice for those who just turn the legal age

💬: I’ve turned the legal age, what do you recommend for a first timer…? Was your first drink a beer…?

🍻: At first, you should go for drinks that don’t have high alcohol content to see if you can drink it or not. Other than that, drink together with someone. For example, with me. And of course, the first drink I had was beer!

24. Roger’s favorite drinking partner is… ✨✨

💬: Is there anyone you want to drink alone with?? What types of things would you talk about with them!?✨

🍻: The one drinking in front of me, right now.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Black Wedding: The True Vow For A Jet-Black Bride - Alfons Sylvatica

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. If other blogs have translated the stories before I do, I will notate their blogs. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

It happened so suddenly.

Alfons: Why are you surprised?

Kate: I may have misheard you, so please say it again….

Alfons: So, it’s a wedding.

Alfons: Don’t tell me…..You don’t want a wedding?

Kate: What?! Oh, I want a wedding!

Flash Forward to the Present -

(I never thought Alfons would say something like that.)

Fated to be forgotten one day, he is a hedonist who lives in the present.

(He leaves behind claw marks because he wants me to despair after he’s gone.)

It’s hardly normal, but in his own way, he loves me.

I wonder what will happen to me when the day comes that I forget him.

(I wouldn’t want to forget that I loved you, even though you’ve faded from my memory.)

To change my mindset, I straightened my back and looked forward.

The only attendees in the small church were Crown.

Kate: Ah……

The corners of my mouth curl up involuntarily when I saw him waiting in front of the altar.

Alfons: Is there anything to smile about?

Kate: I’m happy…..

Following the path decorated with sylvatica flowers I reached him.

I had looked forward to the day of the event as he instructed me to decorate the venue.

(Such a beautiful view…..it’s as if the flowers are blessing us.)

Elbert: I’ll play the role of ………the pastor.

Alfons: This is Kate’s fault.

I was surprised when Lord Elbert said he wanted to play the role of the pastor

(Since you’ve blessed us more than anyone else, I thought I’d leave it to you.)

He seemed hesitant, but he seemed to understand Elbert’s feelings and reluctantly agreed.

Elbert: Okay, let’s get started…..

Elbert: Do you swear to love and care for Kate in sickness and health?

The profile of the person I was looking up to was dignified.

Alfons: I swear it.

The way he said it so frankly made the back of my eyes burn.

The ceremony went on with out a hitch.

Elbert: …….Well then, I’d like to say the kiss of oath.

Kate: What?

Elbert: From here on out, it’s just the two of you.

Everyone from Crown left and we were all alone.

Alfons: I asked them to leave. I have something to tell you, alone.

He clears his throat and turns to me again.

Alfons: ….It was for your sake that I suggested we hold a ceremony.

He stroked the hem of my veil, his eyes downcast,

Alfons: One day I will be forgotten by the world.

Alfons: The day will come when this day will fade from your memory.

Alfons: No matter how much I wish, my fate will never change.

I am almost in tears because it’s a future that I can never change -

Alfons: I just thought I’d mention one thing that I’ve been hiding for a long time, since we became a couple.

Kate: Am I prepared …..?

The moment the veil was lifted, I saw a loving, smiling face come into view.

Alfons: I’m going to die after you at any cost.

Kate: What…..

Alfons: At first I thought I was going to leave an indelible mark on you.

Alfons: As we lived together…….I’ve changed my mind.

A hand touches my cheeks and embraces them.

Alfons: I want to see your happy face when you die.

Alfons: I thought it would be better if I died first, and leave you behind with an unknown face.

Alfons: But most of all……..I couldn’t help but feel that I didn’t want to be forgotten by you Kate.

Seeing the drops on my cheeks, he lowered his eyebrows and laughed awkwardly.

Alfons: So, remember this vow, this day, and all the time you have spent with me.

Tears fall at the pledge overflowing with love, and drops onto the flowers and my feet.

(That’s not fair….)

I always thought I was going to be the one left behind, but his love was going to change the course we were going to follow.

Kate: ….I’m going to live for a long time.

Alfons: Let’s have a contest our entire lives to see who lives the longest.

Kate: If so, stay healthy. Sleep and drink in moderation.

Alfons: Ahaha……as a husband, I have to listen to my lovely wife.

Tears were wiped away and our lips come together.

Alfons: ……It’s your fault that things have changed, so please take responsibility for that.

The moment I close my eyes, the sylvatica flowers were blurred by my tears.

They seemed to shine, just like this ring.

[Black Wedding Master List]

Tag list: @theimaginativelyreticent

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

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🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

A Song of heart and blood - part five | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: After a long wait, the fifth part is finally there! I hope you didn't forget about this story... In case you did, please give it a re-read. The last two parts will follow soon (for real)

masterpost

—

Was there a day when Daemon Targaryen wasn’t plotting and scheming? When he wasn’t trying to secure his succession to the Iron Throne, he was coming up with war strategies or helping his great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter change the future of an entire dynasty.  

He didn’t understand the magical side of your story, how exactly you had traversed through the stones, but he believed you.

As the sky gradually darkened, you shared with him the future you knew — the dance. The demise of King Viserys, the crowning of the usurper, the Velaryons’ betrayal to Rhaenyra, plunge culminating in Daemon's final breath, Rhaenyra’s barbarous death, and more. 

Daemon wished he had brought a strong alcohol of some sort. Your tales were very difficult to hear at times. 

‘’We have to stop this war from happening, Daemon.’’ 

The prince nodded, his gaze fixed on the flames dancing in the stone fireplace before you. ‘’How do you suggest we do so? You suppressed the wrongly-crowned king before he could be born, but no moon tea will stop Alicent from birthing another babe. My brother is determined to have a son, and he'll persist until one is born to his young bride.’’ 

Being wedded to a king so young and with such a considerable age difference must not be pleasant for her. She wears a crown and owns beautiful dresses, but she was forced into a role she never desired all because her father aimed to have his blood on the Iron Throne. You almost felt bad for Alicent, but you couldn’t erase the horrible things she did — the things she will do. 

A reflection struck you. ‘’The king declared Rhaenyra his heir, but if you were to marry and have a babe of pure Targaryen blood, would the king be willing to reconsider your succession to the throne? His and Alicent’s children will never be pure Targaryen blood, yours could.’’

Daemon turned his head toward you, raising an eyebrow. ‘’Are you suggesting we marry?’’

Air got caught in your throat, causing you to choke. ‘’No! No, I…I was thinking of the princess. She is young, but—’’ 

‘’Marrying my niece has been on my mind in the past, but I’ve grown out of that idea. But you, you are of pure blood. Born from another time, but you carry the blood of the dragon.’’

Shaking your head, you stood. ‘’I cannot marry you, Daemon.’’ 

‘’You said you were in great danger from the hands of Otto Hightower. Marriage would ensure your safety.’’

You shook your head again, laughing at the insane words that left the prince’s mouth. ‘’You’ve lost your mind.’’  

Dameon suddenly looked serious, any ounce of humor wholly erased from his earlier easygoing features. ‘’You are my blood, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.’’ He combed a hand through your hair, pulling your face away and forcing you to look at him. ‘’You’re safe with me. I swear it.’’

Every bone of your body believed him. If you hadn’t felt safe in his presence, you would never have revealed him your secret. You would never have come to him for help.

You closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of his touch. ‘’But I can’t stay forever,’’ you said, reopening your eyes. ‘’I’ve played enough with the future; a marriage would have significant repercussions.’’ 

Daemon’s finger ghosted across your cheekbone, sliding downwards until it settled on the corner of your mouth, gently caressing your pout with the rough pad of his finger. His eyes were contemplative, thoughtful. Gradually, his touch gently lowered, your decollete now the point of his focus. His index finger ran a smooth ring around the chain at your neck, a ghost of a perplexed frown forming on his face.

‘’I don’t care.’’ 

‘’Birthing an heir myself will change the whole lineage, Daemon. By doing this, my sister and I may not exist in the future.’’

‘’You said yourself that you were from my lineage—’’

‘’Your and Rhaenyra’s lineage,’’ you corrected. Was he not listening to what you were saying? ‘’If you don’t marry her, your children won’t be born and therefore I cannot exist.’’ 

Your eyebrows furrowed as a question echoed in your head. If you disrupt too much of time, will you vanish? Unfortunately, there was no way of finding the answer to your question. Not many had dangled with time-traveling, let alone written about it.

‘’How long do we have?’’ Daemon asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

‘’I don’t know,’’ you said truthfully, lowering your eyes to the stone floor. 

Daemon lifted your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. ‘’Let’s not waste time, then.’’ He closed the space between you, his lips molding perfectly with yours. 

You angled your head to deepen the kiss, not realizing how much you missed the taste of him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, nimble fingers burying in his silver hair as he pulled you against him, his clothed body flush against yours. 

Then, you were suddenly reminded of Rhea Royce. ‘’Don't you already have a wife?’’

⁂

All Daemon had said before leaving on Caraxes was that he had a business to take care of. Assuming it had to do with his wife being in the way of your marriage, you didn’t ask questions. You wouldn’t like the answers. 

He could have it dissolved by the king. His marriage with Rhea Royce had never been consummated, which would leave her honor intact. But Daemon had mentioned Runestone. Hopefully he’ll spare the woman’s life, you didn’t want to indirectly have blood on your hands.

To put your thoughts to rest, you busied yourself exploring the castle. The corridors echoed with the history of your house, each step revealing a new layer of the past. 

Eventually, you stumbled upon one of the bedchambers, situated atop of the castle. Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the large chamber. Like the rest of the castle, the walls adorned large dragons crafted into stone. You ran your hand over the stone, smiling. 

Dany would love this.

Curtains were draped above the large windows, a bright red shade — Targaryen red. It made the room more elegant and matched with the couch cushions. How nice must it be to sit there and look at the sunset.

Lastly, your eyes found the bed. It was smaller than the bed you shared with Daemon and the velvet bedding was slightly dusty from not having been used in a while. You laid on it regardless, tired from all your travels.

⁂

The hour was late when Daemon returned to Dragonstone, the moon casting a silver glow over the island. He should have gone to bed — with you —, but the weight of his responsibilities pressed upon him. There was no rest for the prince tonight. 

In the dim light of the candlelit room, he sat at a desk and wrote a message to a Septon he trusted would keep his tongue, arranging for the discreet ceremony that would bind you and him in the morrow. It had to be done rapidly and in the most secrecy. 

When the devastating news of Rhea Royce’s passing would inevitably travel across the realm, he knew that as her husband, the first suspect would be him. Their marriage was purely political. His dislike for the Lady of Vale wasn’t a secret. But if whispers of Daemon’s wedding to you were to reach the people’s ears, it would strengthen their suspicion that Daemon had something to do with it.

⁂

You had never seen a traditional Valerian marriage before. You had only read about it in books. The entire ritual involved blood to keep with the Targaryen legacy of being wed by blood and fire. 

A breeze coming from the bay blew over the hill, causing your silver waves to dance in the foggy air. You had removed most of your braids for the ceremony, letting your hair cascade down your back. Atop your head sat a traditional piece of Valerian headgear, given to you by Daemon. You assumed it was old, so you treated it with the utmost care. 

The Septon stood between you and Daemon, your vibrant marital robes contrasting with his dark clothes. ‘’We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. In the sight of the Seven, I, hereby, seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.’’ 

Although this marriage won’t last forever, you wished Dany was present for the ceremony. When you were little, you and her would fantasize about getting married and the beautiful dress you’d be wearing on your big day — and the lucky man who you would wed to. 

‘’Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon repeated, his violet eyes looking into yours. He was so beautiful. 

The Septon turned to you, silently telling you it was your turn. 

‘’I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon continued.

You repeated the words, then, using a dragonglass blade, Daemon cut the middle of your bottom lip. He took blood that was drawn from the blade and smeared it on your forehead. You mirrored his action, smearing his blood on his forehead. The ritual felt witchcraft-y, but whispers had it that your Valyrian ancestors used magic to build this very castle. 

You handed back the dagger and, in turn, Daemon cut a line in his palm. You followed suit, hissing as you drew a matching cut on your own skin. Blood trickled from the fresh cut before clasping your hands together, letting your and Daemon’s blood mix together. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one,’’ the Septon said, placing a ribbon with a traditional pattern and tying it over your joined hands as blood dripped from your injuries and to the ground. ‘’Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.”

A chalice brimming with wine was passed to you, and you sipped from it before passing it to your soon-to-be husband. Even standing there, you almost couldn’t believe you were marrying this beautiful man. 

Daemon leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your own. You could taste blood through the kiss, unpleasing and metallic, but you ignored it and kissed him harder. 

—

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[mostmouse]

Professor Min

You bring dinner to your husband, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, buried in his class’s midterm papers. What you thought would’ve been a cute little makeshift office date turns into something a bit more intense.

The only question on Yoongi’s mind… what are you willing to do to pass his class?

Yoongi x f!Reader (8,000 words, explicit, professor AU, student-teacher role play)

Parking in the lot next to the administration building, you hopped out of the car, hearing it beep as it locked. Cupping the insulated bag that held tupperware full of dinner, you walked up to the door, swiping the spare key card Yoongi kept at home. Hitting the automatic button, you slipped in as the doors opened.

Making your way down the hallway, you hummed a small tune, looking at all the closed doors and huffing. Of course your husband was the only soul in the building. Rolling your eyes, you smiled slightly as you made your way to the corner office, tapping your shoe against it and knocking.

You could hear vague complaining, Yoongi grunting as he no doubt stood up for the first time in hours. With a huff, you could hear him before he opened the door, “The building is closed, if you’d like to stop for office hours, please make an app- oh.” He looked pleasantly surprised as his gaze fell on you, a soft smile curling his lips.

Holding up your hands, you giggled softly, “I know I didn’t make an appointment, Professor, but I was hoping you could make time for me.” Your husband shook his head, laughing as he stood aside, letting you come in. “I made dinner! I know you’re working through midterm papers and all but... I got lonely, so I thought I’d bring it to you.” Your smile diminished slightly, wondering if he would be upset with you.

Yoongi liked to keep his professional life and home life separate, and you respected that. You didn’t pry into his classes unless he offered the information to you, and you never came during proper work hours. It was only because you knew the building would be closed and deserted that you even came tonight.

Yoongi sat on the couch in his office, dragging the coffee table over and motioning for you to sit down. With a delighted hum, you took a spot next to him, thighs pressed together. Unfolding the insulated bag, you laid it out and moved the containers so that both of you could eat from them. Nuzzling up close to him, you felt him sigh before he leaned over and kissed the crown of your head, “Thank you. I don’t remember when I last ate.”

You shook your head, admonishing him lightly as you grabbed a bowl, bringing it closer and feeding him a bite. You watched as he blushed, smiling as he chewed. Leaning back a bit more to rest against the couch, he wrapped one arm around your waist, looking up at you with puppy eyes. Grinning, you continued to feed him, taking a few bites yourself as he chewed thoughtfully. “How has grading been going?” Slipping him another bite, you quickly leaned down and kissed him, feeling him smile against you before you pulled away, letting him finish his mouthful.

Heaving a loud and heavy sigh, he whined as he looked up at the ceiling, “Remind me to discuss with the dean about shrinking my class size back to what it used to be a few years ago. There’s too many kids this semester. There were a few that requested special admission, so there’s even more than usual.” Sniffing, he pouted at you, opening his mouth again. You cooed softly at him, feeding him another bite and watching as his cheeks flushed as he chewed happily.

“Aw, sweetness, that's terrible. I’m sorry there’s so much work to be done. I’ll help however I can, even if it’s just to help decompress you, honey.” You grabbed the bottle of water from the table, opening it and holding it to his mouth. Trying to focus on his precious expression, and not how his throat moved with each drink, you pulled it away when he was done. “You have soju in your drawers, right? Want me to get you a glass?”

As you moved to stand, you squeaked as he grabbed your belt loop, tugging you back down and even closer to him than you were before. “No. Not right now. I just want you. And more food.” You giggled, looking at him as he stared dreamily up at you, a small smile on his kissable lips. Bending towards the table, you felt him rub your back as you grabbed the other bowl, bringing it up close and feeding him from that one, hearing him groan in satisfaction.

He was in bliss, having you for an extra visit and being pampered. He loved when you fed him, when he got to just lay back and relax. It was honestly the best way to be surprised in his office. As you fed him, he found his mind wandering further and further away, worrying less about work and more about how he wanted to go home with you. It had been a while since he got a full night’s rest.

Hearing your chopsticks scrape the bottom of the bowl, he opened his mouth, waiting for his next bite. As you gently laid it on his tongue, he hummed as he chewed softly. “I love you.” He heard you squeak softly, knowing you were blushing with a dopey smile on your face. “Thank you for coming tonight. I know I’ve been busy, you deserve more attention.” He accepted the next bite as well, not bothering to open his eyes.

You knew how he expressed his love, knowing his love language was acts of service and gift giving. Sometimes he felt guilty, knowing your love language didn’t exactly align with his, but countless times you had reassured him. You knew he loved you and that was that. Though it didn’t hurt to hear it every now and again.

Letting his legs fall open, he groaned loudly, feeling the stress and stiffness leave him slowly. He heard you set the bowl down, your body curling up next to his. Grabbing for your legs, he dragged them over his thigh, feeling your nails drift through his scalp, scratching softly and combing his hair. “You’ve really let your mane grow out, Professor. Do any of your students or colleagues think it’s too much?” He could hear the smile in your voice.

Huffing in laughter, he squeezed your thigh appreciatively. Tilting his head to be more pressed into your palms, he smiled, “Some of the students have mentioned it. Not to my face, but I hear them talk.” He snickered, hearing you huff. “None of the staff have said anything, so I’m guessing I can keep it.” Opening his eyes just a sliver, he looked at you, watching your expression.

You were trying to hold back your smile, shaking your head, “Good, I love it long. It’s so nice and soft and poofy. I love it so much.” You leaned forward, nuzzling him and sighing happily.

Yoongi smirked, licking his lips, “Plus, it’s nice for you to have something to hold onto while I’m eating you.” Laughing as you gasped loudly, he felt you slap his chest, quickly dissolving into laughter with him. “What? It’s true. Try to deny it.” Catching your wrist, he pulled you close, eyes darting to your lips with a smirk still on his own.

You felt your breath stutter in your throat, shuddering as his darkened gaze finally found yours, his smug smirk making your heart melt. Swallowing thickly, your voice was a husky whisper, “I- You said we couldn’t do anything in your office. Should we go home?” You watched, entranced as he leaned forward, biting your lip and dragging it between his teeth.

Letting go, he decided to shoot his shot at a fantasy he had been fighting down for months. Looking back into your eyes, he let his hand come up behind you, pulling your hair gently, just enough to excite you. “Ah, you can’t come home with me, that would be inappropriate. Office hours are just fine. Now tell me, do you want to pass this class?”

He felt you shiver in his grip, a soft breath hissed through your teeth. Giving you a moment, he worried that perhaps you hadn’t had the same fantasy. But sure enough, your voice was as husky as his, your lustful gaze on his, “Please, Professor Min. I really need to pass this class. I’ll do anything.” Your thighs rubbed together slightly, still propped up over his thigh.

Grinning, he used his foot to push away the table, dinner finished and just needed cleaning up. Once it was far enough away he didn’t need to worry about any spillage, he grabbed your leg, dragging you to sit on his lap, straddling him. Leaning back against the couch, he rested his hands behind his head, smirking, “Then show me how bad you need this grade.”

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips as you looked up at him. Leaning forward towards him, you dragged your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back and hovering your lips just over his, “Is this okay? Can I touch you, Professor?” He bit his lip to keep from grinning, instead just nodding and trying to look casual.

You made quick work of the space between you, crowding him and pressing your body against his, kissing him softly. His hands stayed behind his head, letting you do the work. You pulled back slightly, panting softly, “I’ve never done this with one of my professors before. Are you sure this is allowed?” Groaning at your innocent tone, he felt his cock get hard in his dress pants.

Letting one hand come up to your head again, he pulled your hair harder, hearing you whimper, “Do you want this grade or not?” Listening as you panted, he nodded your head for you, “Use your words, otherwise I’ll have to give that mouth something else to do.” He felt your thighs squeeze his hips, unable to keep the smirk off his face, knowing you were just as into the fantasy as he was. Of course he’d never do something with a student - he was far too obsessed and possessive of you - but having you in his office calling him Professor and bending to his will? He would gladly take it.

Panting, you tugged against his hand, whimpering when he didn’t let go, “Yoongi~” Crying out, you felt him pull harder, “P-Professor Min! Please, please can I kiss you? I promise I’ll make you feel good.” He groaned at your voice, head falling back against the couch. Letting go of your hair, he rested his palms on your thighs, giving you a sultry look and licking his lips slowly.

You bit your cheek to keep from grinning and jumping on him, trying to remember your role as a desperate student, but nervous to be with her teacher. Slowly, you leaned down, brushing a fingertip over one of his lips, biting your lip and smiling as he bit it softly, running his tongue over it. You could see the delight dancing in his eyes, both of you struggling to remain in character.

Swallowing, you puffed air over his face, falling back into your role and ghosting your lips over his. Feeling his grip on your thighs tighten, you pulled back, “Professor, please tell me what you want.” You pressed your forehead on his, your face flushed, “I’ve never done this before... I’m sorry I’m not experienced, but I promise I can satisfy you, anything for this grade, please Professor Min.”

He groaned loudly, dragging you almost imperceptibly closer to his body, “Such a bold little student I have. A cute little virgin willing to please her Professor for a passing grade?” He leaned forward a bit, biting your lip, “Then let me show you how to please a real man. I’m sure whatever guy you date will be happy you had such an experienced man teach you everything you need to know.” You grinned against his lips before he pressed his to yours, tongue swiping over your lip eagerly.

You fought the urge to let him in immediately, instead keeping your mouth closed and pulling back a bit, “What? I don’t get it, what do you want me to do?” You felt him growl against you, hands tightening in your hair and on your thigh, grip bruising as he shoved his mouth against yours and pressing his tongue into your mouth.

Unable to help yourself, you moaned hotly, legs falling wider apart in his lap as he ravaged your mouth. It was nearly intoxicating, feeling him kiss you so intensely after almost a week long dry spell. He was nothing if not devoted to his work, but right now, in this fantasy, you were his work. And you knew you’d get the same treatment as the papers on his desk.

His tongue licked all over your mouth, petting your own, tracing your teeth, and licking your cheeks. Pulling away, both of you panted, his eyes dark as they raked over your face. You couldn’t help but touch your lips with your fingertips with a dazed expression. Yoongi grinned, leaning forward and brushing his lips over the shell of your ear, “Never thought I’d get to break in a virgin again.” Licking you slightly, he felt your legs squeeze him.

The two of you were high school sweethearts, learning everything about pleasure together. He had been your first and you had been his. Him using the term ‘break in’ almost had you in a giggling fit, knowing all your first times had been bashful and blushy, and most certainly steeped in love. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you dragged your fingers through his hair, “Please be gentle, Professor.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but grin, leaning back and biting your bottom lip, eyes a bit wild. It seemed as if the nearly week long dry spell had him overly excited, plus the fantasy in his office so late at night. Letting go of your lip, he heard you whimper, “Gentle? You said you’d do anything to please me. Gentle isn’t something that pleases me, so I hope you don’t have some delusion that you’re walking out of here tonight after some lovey dovey touching. I’m going to break you.”

He watched as you whimpered, wiggling in his lap. He knew you wouldn’t be able to feel much relief through your jeans, but part of him loved it. He still felt good guiding your hips against his hard cock, moaning at the feeling. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your flushed cheeks making his heart beat just a bit faster. Licking his lips, he nudged your nose with his, coaxing you into another kiss, shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned against him, pulling him tighter against you and sighing. Playing with his tongue, yours pet his as he pressed against you. His hands drifted down, cupping your ass and squeezing, listening as you moaned into his mouth. Dragging your hands through his hair, you bucked your hips against his, desperate to feel his touch.

He pulled away from you, immediately nibbling and sucking your throat where he could reach. Your brows pinched up, sighing and gasping as you bit you. You knew you’d have fresh marks to hide at work, but you loved it. You loved getting up in the morning and seeing all the new bites, marks, and bruises he left on your body.

Grinding against him, you keened as he bit your throat, “P-Professor, please let me touch you.” He pulled away, his lips resting against your tender skin as he hummed thoughtfully.

Dragging his hands around to rest on your thighs, he slapped you playfully then squeezed tight. “Strip.” He sat back, pushing your knees and closing his legs so you could stand easier. Resting his hands behind his head again he licked his lips languidly. “And do it slowly. Give me a show, won’t you?” You bit your lip, whining in the back of your throat.

Stepping back a bit, you tossed up a finger, silently telling him to wait a moment. He watched you curiously as you packed up the bowls quickly, securing them back into the bag and placing it on the floor next to the door, which you then locked. Scampering back to stand in front of him, you slapped his knee as he giggled at you. Taking a deep breath you slapped your cheeks, trying to get back into character. Pouting, you pursed your lips at him, “Tell me to strip again, now I’m just excited!” You laughed together, Yoongi shaking his head.

Sitting up, he ruffled his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail before letting it cascade down his shoulders again. Looking up at you, he smirked as your eyes followed his hair. Settling back into the couch, he cleared his throat, getting your attention again, but snapping his fingers for good measure, watching as you blushed, knowing he only did it when he wanted you to get on your knees for him. “Eyes on me. Now strip down before I do it for you. And I won’t be nice about it.”

You whimpered, falling back into character and feeling your panties get wetter at his almost disinterested expression, yet his dark eyes stayed fixated on you. Playing with the hem of your sweater, you slowly tugged it up and over your head. Tossing it towards the door, you bit your lip, tracing the cups of your bra and shifting from foot to foot. “I said strip. Take it all off.” Moaning at his authoritative tone, you reached behind you, unclasping your bra and slowly dragging it down.

Looking away, you tried to look bashful as you covered your chest, one arm across them as you tossed your bra away. Yoongi groaned lowly, “Don’t hide yourself from me. If I have to get up, it’ll be a lot rougher for you tonight.” He pawed at his trousers lightly, trying to give himself any sort of friction. He saw you smile faintly, knowing you were hoping he would get up. Rolling his eyes he smiled, winking, “I’ll be rough no matter what. Now finish.”

Swallowing thickly, you let your arms fall to your side, heavy breasts exposed to Yoongi’s hungry gaze. Dragging his eyes over you, he felt drool pool in his mouth. Groaning, he adjusted his hips, eager to have you touch him once you were nude before him.

Watching you unbutton your jeans, you wiggled out of them slowly, dragging them over your thick thighs. Snapping his fingers again, you blushed as you looked up from where you were bent slightly. “Turn around. I wanna see that cute, tight ass as you bend over for me.” Standing back up, you blushed hotly, turning around and slapping your cheeks slightly, feeling yourself blush hotly.

Swallowing, you resumed your actions, thankful you wore cute panties. Once you got your jeans down to your ankles, you tugged them fully off, staying bent at the waist. Looking at Yoongi from down by your knees, your hair falling around you, you whimpered, “Do you want me to take my panties off, too, Professor Min?” He growled, eyes raking over your body that he could see.

“Yes. Good girl for asking.” You turned away from him, stomping your feet excitedly from his gravelly praise. Clearing your throat slightly, you slowly dragged your panties down. Stepping out of them slowly, you couldn’t help but blush, feeling bashful all of a sudden. Just as you tossed them away, you heard a camera shutter.

Gasping, you stood and whipped around, blushing as you saw Yoongi biting his lip and zooming in on his screen. “Yoongi-yah!” You couldn’t help but squeal as you covered your cheeks, stomping your feet and laughing. He laughed with you, tucking his phone away and shaking his head. Winking at you, he licked his lips, crooking his finger and enticing you closer.

Once you were in front of him, he sighed and tucked his hands behind his head. Nodding down towards his pants, he looked back up at you, quirking a brow as if to ask why you hadn’t already stripped him. Lowering yourself to your knees, you whispered for him to hold on as you crawled away to grab your sweater. Folding it and placing it under your knees, you looked back up at him, blushing at his love struck look.

Coughing to cover your smile, you kissed his knee softly, “Can I take your clothes off too, Professor Min?” Making your eyes big and round, you looked up at him from under your lashes, humming quietly.

Yoongi smirked, dragging a hand through his hair as he lifted his hips slightly, “No. All you need is my cock. Afterall, I’m not the one who needs to pass, am I?” You whimpered at his tone, hands sliding up his thighs to undo his trousers and dragging them down, along with his boxer briefs.

Groaning loudly as his cock was finally freed, he sat back down on the couch. Licking his lips, he watched as you tugged his pants to his knees and down a bit, letting you get a bit closer between his legs. Though he noticed you didn’t look directly at him, smirking as he remembered you were playing a virginal student.

He brought his hand down, dragging it through your hair before he grabbed it and made you look at his thick shaft, hearing you whimper, “What’s the matter? Never seen such a big cock before?” He pulled harder, hearing you gasp and moan loudly, your nails biting into his bare thighs where your hands rested on them. “Don’t worry about looking so much, I guess. I’ll be inside your mouth in just a moment anyways.”

Swallowing thickly, you panted slightly, “Professor Min, I’ve never- please-” He watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath.

Pulling you closer, he used his other hand to hold his cock to your mouth, coating your lips in his pre-cum before slapping them with it, “Please what? A girl like you hasn’t ever sucked a guy off before?” He scoffed, slapping your cheek next with his shaft, groaning tightly, “Want me to be gentle? Is that what you want? Too bad, baby. I’m not in the mood to pamper such a pure princess tonight.”

You moaned, licking your lips and opening your mouth, too excited to banter with him. You looked up at him, admiring his handsome face as he smirked down at you. Sighing, you felt his cock on your tongue, his hand loosening up in your hair as you slowly started to suck the tip. Looking up at him, you sighed as your hands drifted closer to your mouth, petting his strong thighs.

Swirling your tongue around him, you hummed softly. Yoongi’s head was tilted back, sighing and moaning as you pleasured him, mind in a haze after not feeling your touch in days. Smiling slightly, you took him deeper, feeling his hand in your hair go limp and rest there. Swallowing thickly, you took a deep breath before sinking as far as you could, petting his hard shaft with your delicate tongue.

Moaning around him, you heard him gasp, hips bucking up into your mouth. Scrunching your nose slightly, you slowly pulled back up, lavishing his tip and sucking him tightly. Becoming aware of his surroundings once more, he tipped his head back up, hand petting your hair and pulling it back into a ponytail before wrapping it around his fist, “P-Pretty talented for a virgin. You sure this is your first time with a cock in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed, smiling around him and not bothering to answer him, just looking up at him with flushed cheeks and slipping deeper. He moaned tightly as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, sighing as you dragged your head back up. Popping off him, you used your hand to stroke him as you kissed and licked his package.

“It’s my first time, but my friends have told me all about when they do it... Is it good? I just wanna make you feel good, Professor Min.” You tried to pitch your voice, sounding desperate as you licked back up his shaft from base to tip. As you flicked your tongue over his slit, he shivered, pulling your hair slightly. “Am I doing a good job, Professor? Please tell me what you want me to do.”

Gritting his teeth, he pushed your head down on him, “Be a good girl and take it all, want you to swallow my cock and take every load I give you.” You moaned around him, rubbing your wet thighs together. He gave you a second to catch your breath before taking a deep one. Once you squeezed his thigh lightly, he shoved you the rest of the way down his shaft, feeling himself inside your hot, tight throat.

Moaning loudly, his voice was rough as he slowly fucked your mouth. Dragging you by your hair, he bucked his hips as well, moaning as your tongue pressed against him, feeling you swallow around him. Tugging you up, you popped off him, panting and catching your breath. “Fuck... Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” He panted, hazy eyes looking down at you between his legs, your lips shining.

You bit your lip, smile threatening to break your cheeks. You felt his words stroke your ego, knowing you could make one of the most severe professors in the entire department fall apart with just your mouth. Sighing, you tapped his thigh looking back up at him through your lashes, “It’s okay, Professor Min. I want you to- to finish in my mouth. Please.”

He smirked, guiding you back to his cock, sighing as your hand held and massaged his heavy package. “Aw, can’t say ‘cum’, baby girl?” He pulled your hair, stopping you just as you kissed the tip of his shaft, “Beg me for it, baby. Be a good girl and beg me to blow my load down your throat. Tell me how bad you wanna swallow my cum.”

You whined, pulling against his hand slightly just for him to pull harder. “Please, Y- Professor Min! Please cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you, please!” Groaning as you keened, he shoved you down halfway, growling as he felt your breath puff across his bush. Once you had a deep enough breath, you tapped his thigh softly. Roughly, he shoved you down the rest of his shaft, your nose against his coarse, dark curls.

Gagging slightly, you relaxed your throat, taking a few calming breaths and swallowing around him. Looking up, you felt tears gather on your lash line, tapping his thigh softly again. Clenching his other hand into a fist, he tightened his hold in your hair and resumed fucking your mouth. Panting, he bucked his hips, moaning as your tongue dragged against him.

Arching his back, his head fell against the couch, chest heaving with every breath, “Fuck, fuck! Baby, fuck! Gonna cum, be a good girl and swallow it, it’s all for you, fuck!” Arching, he held your face down, cock throbbing and pulsing in your throat as you felt him blow his load, filling your belly. Swallowing around him, you wiggled your face, causing him to keen as his hips stuttered, emptying himself into your tummy.

Panting for breath, he loosened his hand, letting you press your palms against his thighs as you slowly lifted yourself off of him. With a wet pop, you gasped for air, coughing slightly as his messy cock fell against his lower belly, happy trail getting covered in your drool and his cum.

Wiping at your lips, you licked any stray amounts of his cum from your fingertips, smiling happily to yourself and leaning forward, licking him softly and swallowing any that you missed on him. Finishing your clean up, you wiggled up next to him on the couch, holding him to your bare chest.

Feeling him pant against you, you brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead, kissing the crown of his head softly and whispering sweet nothings. Nuzzling against him, you hummed happily. Slowly, he could feel himself again, fingers twitching and brows furrowing. “It’s been too long obviously... Even just a few days and you suck me off once and I’m like a spent teenager again.”

You giggled, kissing his forehead and cheeks. Slowly, his eyes focused on you again, hands coming up and squishing your cheeks. Kissing his nose, you sighed happily, “Are you done for the night? I can pack up your papers and drive us home. I’ll bring you back Monday morning.” It didn’t pass him by how you were basically saying he would spend the weekend at home, but he loved it. Loved when you took charge and directed him exactly where you wanted him to be, knowing he was a bit of a workaholic.

Licking his lips, he leaned down, kissing the swell of your breasts, “Later. I’m not done with you yet.” He felt you shudder, smiling against him. He knew you were far from satisfied, especially since it had been so long. “You haven’t done enough to earn that grade. You think swallowing my cock is it? My class is much too difficult to equate to such a miniscule one time thing.” He looked up at you through his lashes, smirking as he saw your blush.

Moving to straddle him, you set your hands on his shoulders, looking at him intently, “Yes, sir. Whatever else you want, I’ll do it. I’ll keep your cock in my mouth for the rest of the semester if it’ll help keep you generous with my scores.” His head fell back, eyes closing and groaning loudly. You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth and trying to stay in character.

His hands rested atop your thighs, squeezing. “Whatever else I want?” He hummed thoughtfully, slowly pushing you off his lap. Leaning over to his coat rack, he heard you giggle behind him, shaking his head as his trousers were around his ankles. Finally just kicking off one of his shoes, he stepped out of one leg, waddling to grab his sweater and waddling back, cock semi hard and slapping against his thighs softly.

Shaking his head, he stuck his tongue out at you before bending and grabbing the sweater you had been kneeling on. Spreading both of them out on his couch, he held your hands as he gently spread you out over them, making sure your bare body and face weren’t touching the cushions. He shuddered to even consider how many people had sat on this couch over the years.

Making sure his sweater came up just under your ass, to catch any stray spillage afterwards, he knelt between your legs, spreading them wide on either side of him. Groaning as he saw your perfectly wet cunt, he nipped the inside of your calf, which was resting against his still clothed chest.

You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your face. Quickly fanning yourself, you cleared your throat, looking up at him with a timid expression, “Professor?” Your breathless tone had him groaning low and gravelly. Stroking his cock, he slapped it against your lower belly, resting it on you so you can feel how thick and big he was.

Shivering, you felt yourself clench, desperately wanting him inside you. His rough voice pulled you from your thoughts, making you wetter. “Think you can take me? Look how big my cock is, baby. A sweet virgin like you? I’ll break you in half.” You couldn’t help but think back to the first time the two of you had gone all the way, even if he hadn’t completely finished growing up, it had been a tight fit.

Blushing, you bit your lip, hand tentatively reaching down and stroking him, biting back your moan. “I can take it, Professor Min. Please, just give me a chance.” You couldn’t help the excitement in your voice, hips wiggling subtly in Yoongi’s grip. You knew he noticed, but he was able to stay in character, looking down at you with a vaguely cold look, not quite able to pull it off when it was his gorgeous wife splayed out under him.

Licking his lips slowly, he smirked as you watched the action closely. Settling your legs against his chest, he groaned as he dragged his cock along your soaked slit, watching you shiver with anticipation. “Gonna take you hard and rough. Think you can handle it, princess?” He watched as you covered your mouth, watching your eyes crinkle and knowing you were smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your hands, nodding with an apprehensive expression, “Yes, I can take it, please, Professor, just take me.” Groaning harshly, he made sure the tip of his cock slipped inside before anchoring both palms on either side of your head. With a cocky smirk and dark eyes looking down at you, you couldn’t help but bite your lip, squealing as he shoved himself fully inside you.

Your hands wrapped around his wrists above you, legs shaking as he sat fully sheathed inside your tight cunt. Moaning loudly, you squeezed him tightly, hearing him moan roughly, “Fuck, you’re so tight. You really are a virgin, aren’t you, princess? Fuck, taking my cock so well, don’t think I’ll be able to hold back from breaking this pretty cunt of yours.” He grinned down at you, watching as you smiled dazedly.

Pulling himself back, he bucked back into you, starting up a rough pace. Each time he pounded back into you had you gasping, moaning his name and keening sharply. Soon, you had your hands clasped over your mouth, watching as Yoongi bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet as well, just in case anyone was in the building for whatever reason.

Gasping behind your palms, you arched your back, “Yoongi! Please! I- ahh! P-Professor, I can’t! Please, please touch me~” Your brows knit up, moaning lasciviously, watching as he licked his lips and grinned. Moving his weight to one hand, he brought his other down, playing with your clit. Immediately curling forward, you cried out behind both hands, voice reaching your husband as easily as if you were screaming.

Sitting back on his heels, he dragged your hips up and closer, fingers playing expertly with your clit as you matched his pace easily, knowing all his moves. You arched against the couch, head falling to the side as you lost yourself in his pleasure. His cock stroked you perfectly, and in this angle made easy work of your gspot. Gasping against your palms, you felt your eyes water, your climax rushing down your spine.

Yoongi could feel your thighs quaking where they rested on his arms, having slipped from his shoulders. Maintaining his pace, he kept his hips bucking into you, readjusting his hand that was playing with your clit to also press down on your lower belly, making sure his cock was pounding your sweet spot over and over.

He heard you scream behind your hands, nails biting into your cheeks as you writhed under him. He couldn’t help but grin, teeth shining in the light as he panted, “That’s it baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl, I know you can. C’mon, good girl, just like that.” He watched as your chest darkened, body flushing as you keened under your palms.

Shuddering as he felt your cunt squeeze him, he imagined if anyone else were in the building, how they’d know how good he fucked you. He was sure none of them would be able to look him in the eye after. Not that many did anyways, he was aware of his effect on other people, after all you made sure to remind him every moment how ethereal he was.

Licking his lips, eased his hand up, gently circling your clit with feather light touches. Soon, your body quit trembling, your husband cooing softly to you as your eyes fluttered open again. Looking at him, you pulled your hands away to speak before crying out loudly, feeling him buck against you. “Y-You didn’t finish, baby?” You whimpered as he took his spot back above you, anchoring his palms on either side of your head, grin on his lips.

Leaning down, he caught you in a kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he began pounding you fast and hard. You reached up, grabbing his hair and crying out loudly. Trying to pull away, he followed you down, body flush to your sweaty one as he fucked you fast. The way he pet your mouth with his tongue was a sharp contrast to how he pounded you, cock making you feel dumb and dazed.

You moaned hotly against him, hands pulling his hair as you keened, drooling on his tongue. His hands moved from your shoulders to hold your legs up and wider open, bruising his hips against yours. With a gasp, he pulled away from you, panting heavily as he watched you drool under him, breasts bouncing and expression blissed out.

Grinning, he leaned down, biting your chest and leaving marks all over you. Feeling your thighs shake against his palms, he bit you harder, feeling his own climax approaching. “Yoongi~” His name was hoarse as you whispered it, eyes fluttering. You whimpered as he fucked you, pulling his face flush to your bouncing chest, heart pounding.

He groaned your name, drooling onto your bruised breasts, hips stuttering, “Fuck, fuck- cum for me, baby, one more time, fuck-! I know you can- ahh!” His breath stuttered in his lungs, shoving one hand down and grinding his fingers roughly against your clit, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.

Gasping, he shouted, cursing as he finished inside, listening as you moaned loudly as his fingers got you off after. Growling in his chest, he couldn’t help but glare down at you, lustful gaze intense as you whimpered. Pulling himself free, you cried out at the loss, feeling his cum spill from you.

However, he easily slipped his digits inside you, panting heavily as he pushed his cum back inside. Not stopping there, he felt for your gspot and quickly began pounding it just as hard as he was fucking you, determined to make you squirt on him. Crying out, you covered your mouth again, tears slipping past your lashes.

Trying to close your legs, you keened as he kept them forced open, spreading his own legs and keeping yours pried open. Licking his lips, he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, watching your dazed expression, “C’mon, squirt for me. Be a good girl and squirt all over my hands.” Screaming behind your palms, you whipped your head to the side, body quaking with effort and pleasure.

He felt your cunt squeeze him, your mixed cum covering his hands and wrist and he pounded you hard. It didn’t take much more until you were arching, gushing all over his hands and making him moan, the filthy sound echoing in your otherwise empty head. Collapsing against the couch, you gasped for air, swallowing your mouthfuls of drool.

Feeling boneless, you let Yoongi move about his office as you blinked owlishly at the ceiling, unaware of mostly everything around you. Soon, you felt something soft between your thighs, petting your sensitive skin gingerly. You then saw Yoongi in your line of vision, blinking up at him as he smiled gently. Closing your eyes, you felt him kiss you softly, scattering them over your face, neck, and chest.

You tried to lift your arms up to hold him against you, but he slipped through your fingers relatively easily, not as though you were moving very fast. You heard rustling as you slowly came back into your body, wiggling your toes and fingers.

Before you could sit up, you felt Yoongi sit above your head, slowly dragging you across the sweaters on the couch to rest you on his lap. Kissing your forehead, he leaned back, letting you rest on his chest. Licking your lips, you coughed slightly before smiling, “So, do I get that passing grade, Professor Min?”

You felt his chest rattle with laughter, kisses being peppered all atop your head. Shaking his head, he pet you softly, “You do. You did a great job. Maybe I should have you stop by more often outside of office hours... You wouldn’t believe what a stress reliever this has been.” You laughed softly along with him, gently being lulled to sleep by the soft sounds in his chest.

Holding you for a bit longer, Yoongi basked in the afterglow of your intimacy. He felt especially relaxed, chalking it up to the fact he was incredibly pent up, not to mention how hot the little roleplaying act had been for him. Once he got all the feeling back in his legs, he wiggled you off his lap, sitting you back across the couch so you were sitting on his sweater.

It wasn’t so cold outside that he’d freeze without it, knowing all you had to wear really was your sweater. Gathering up your clothes, he stuffed your panties into his pocket. Wiggling your jeans up your legs, he left them unbuttoned. Shoving your bra into his briefcase, he also just tossed your sweater on.

Gathering all his papers, he stared at them before leaving them on his desk, instead just grabbing his over the shoulder bag, transferring your bra and panties to it, tying the dinner bag to it with his tie, and then shuffled you to the side of the couch, shoving his very soiled sweater into his bag as well, shuddering at the heady scent of it.

Fishing out your keys from your purse, he then sat between your legs, hefting you up onto his back. Carrying you carefully out of his office, he locked his door and made his way back down the deserted hallways, motion sensored lights turning on as he passed by them. Shivering as he stepped out into the evening, he quickly found himself missing the warmth of your body around his.

Clicking the unlock button on the fob, he tossed your purse in the back seat before laying you down. Weaseling a seatbelt around your waist without cutting you in half, he dumped his other two bags on the floor, closing the door softly behind you.

Sitting in the front, he adjusted the seat and mirrors before turning the car on, immediately turning the music off where he knew it would be loud. Sighing contentedly, he began driving the two of you home - not living that far from the university. Winding down university streets out onto the main roads, then down some residential streets, it wasn’t long until he was hitting the button for the garage. Parking the car, he grabbed the bags first, tossing them on the table inside before carefully extracting you.

Carrying you into the house and to the bedroom, he laid you down onto the bed, tugging off your clothes easily and tossing a stray blanket over you. Heading into the bathroom, he lit a few candles and started to fill up the tub, sprinkling relaxing bath salts into the water and stirring them around.

Once he was sure everything was alright, he went back into your shared bedroom, the lights off. Giggling, he saw where you had wrapped yourself up into the blanket. Crawling in behind you, he hugged you to his chest, forgetting to strip himself down. Sighing heavily, he kissed the back of your neck, “Are you awake? I have a bath running for us.”

That seemed to wake you up as you grumbled next to him. Soon, you were eagerly crawling out from under the blanket, eyes half open as you tugged at his hand, “Bath~ Yoongi-yah, c’mon~” He laughed as he let you tug him up, stripping himself down as you walked him to the bathroom. Kicking off his pants, he almost tripped, grabbing you around the waist and listening as you shouted and braced the two of you against the counter.

Laughing softly together, you felt him gather you up into his arms, smiling down at you. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him softly, whispering your love to him. Noticing the bathtub was full enough. You bent over to turn it off, shouting as Yoongi smacked your ass lightly.

Shaking your head, you stuck your tongue out and stepped into the bath. He wasn’t far behind you, slipping in and scooting to sit directly behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, he rested his face in your neck, yawning. “So tired...” You laughed, bringing a wet hand up to pet his hair, shouting as he shook it out like a dog.

Coaxing him into laying back, you rested against his chest. “Let’s relax for a bit, then I’ll clean us up so we can go to sleep, okay?” He nodded lethargically behind you, already drifting off in a nap. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, cooing back to him and calling him your kitty cat.

Letting him drift off to sleep, you slowly began to wash your body off. Turning in Yoongi’s lap, you gently washed his body as well. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but smile as you gently cleaned him below the belt, giggling quietly as his soft delicate skin filled your hands. You heard him huff, looking up at him and finding him staring at you.

Looking away, you hummed innocently, continuing to clean him as he shook his head, laughing silently and easily falling back to sleep as you moved and massaged his thighs. Nudging him delicately, you slipped behind him, taking time to massage his neck and shoulders, hearing him groan and moan loudly at your firm but gentle touches.

Once you finished lavishing your husband in loving touches, you leaned around, emptying the tub. Grabbing the cup you kept by the bath, you turned the faucet on, filling it up and dumping the water over the newly exposed parts of your bodies, not wanting to bother with getting into the shower.

Humming softly, you rinsed Yoongi off, cooing softly to him and whispering sweet nothings. Soon enough, the tub was drained and the two of you had been rinsed off. You made sure he wouldn’t slip over the tub as you got out and grabbed your towels. Ruffling his hair, you whispered softly to him, “Baby, it’s time to get up. Bedtime~” He groaned at your words, but moved nonetheless.

He held his arms and legs out and up as you asked him, kneeling down and drying him off. Kissing his belly, you heard him giggle softly, covering where you had kissed with his hand and blushing.

Padding quietly back into the bedroom, you turned down his covers, helping him in bed and watching him sink into the pillow and sheets. Giggling, you pulled the comforter back up, tucking him in with a kiss to his forehead, cheeks, then soft lips. Scampering to your side of the bed, you slipped in as well, quickly wiggling to your husband and laying softly against him.

Kissing his shoulder, you smiled contentedly, “I love you, Yoongi.” He hummed in response, half asleep, and wrapped himself around you. Holding his head to your chest, you sighed happily, feeling yourself fall asleep completely for the night, knowing you had all weekend to spend with your beloved.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (19)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, domination, murder ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

They returned by carriage to the Red Keep in complete silence. She couldn't stop crying at the thought of what had happened, at the thought of who they had just crowned King.

At the thought of how many innocent people had just died in the Great Sept.

She pressed her lips together so that they were almost blue, not making a sound, snuggled into her husband's chest, who was embracing her with one arm, himself resting his head on the other, covering his face with his hand. She had never seen him in such a state.

Pale, terrified, petrified.

They were both in shock.

Aegon was the King.

The queen, despite her almost grave mood, did not give up the great feast that she had organised in honour of her son and the new ruler. Only family members and the most loyal lords with their wives and children attended.

She, however, did not touch the food or the wine and stared blankly ahead, wondering when she would be able to leave without commiting a discourtesy. She saw that her husband was only drinking wine, immersed in his own thoughts; they didn't speak about what had happened.

They were both equally devastated.

Aegon, however, to her surprise, completely changed his attitude. After the applause of the people of his kingdom, he seemed downright delighted with his new role, the new power that was now in his possession. He was strutting proudly in his silver crown, enjoying each toast, drinking to the bottom, Helaena sat beside him but did not look at him, playing with her fingers.

"When the fire summons, the scorched earth will breathe a sigh of relief under the raindrops." She whispered so quietly that she barely heard it; Aegon paid no attention to it, as he made another toast.

Suddenly, however, the king's attention, to her dismay, turned towards her.

"Dear sister-in-law, why such sadness in your eyes? Are you not happy to have a new King?" He sneered, raising his eyebrows as he took a sip of wine from another already full cup.

She saw her husband's hand lying on the table in front of her clench into a fist, her heart pounding in her chest, but her face remained indifferent.

She thought that she would not be drawn into his pathetic game.

"I almost burned alive today. The experience has worn me out, my King." She said calmly, a grimace on her husband's face that could be called a smile.

Aegon laughed at her words, raising his cup to the air, clearly delighted by her coarse, ironic reply.

"So my sister-in-law can speak. Until now, all I've heard from afar in my chamber are the other equally curious sounds that you are capable of making." He said accusingly, taking a sip of wine again, grinning under his breath at his own statement.

Some of those gathered moved in their seats, looking at each other with embarrassment, the Queen stared at him in pain and disbelief.

"How can you say such things in front of all these people? To humiliate your brother's wife in front of everyone?" She said with pain, clearly on the verge of tears herself after all that had happened. Aegon snorted loudly at her words.

"After all, it's no insult. I envy my brother such a wonderful possession."

"That is enough." She said, looking at him impatiently, feeling her stomach clench from the humiliation overpowering her.

She promised herself she wouldn't cry, that she wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction.

"Your words are insulting to me and your own wife. Your Queen."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, letting out a loud breath, reaching for the grape standing before him on a platter.

"My queen is indifferent to everything. Isn't she?" He asked, leaning over Helaena. His wife-sister looked at him, her gaze dreamy and sad, full of a hopelessness from which her heart squeezed. She heard her husband stand up suddenly, turning away, tense.

"We're leaving." He hissed, but his brother's voice stopped him.

"I order you to stay. You will leave when I allow you to." He said matter-of-factly, washing his hands in a bowl of water to reach his hand for another dish.

She saw her husband look over his shoulder at his brother-king, saw that he was on edge, his eye black, menacing, filled with madness and rage.

She thought that if they were to win, he could not burst now.

She extended her hand towards him under the table, so that no one but him could see the gesture. Her husband looked at her fingers, then at her face, his chest rising and falling in anxious breaths. He clenched his eyelid and swallowed his saliva along with his humiliation.

He turned back, pale with rage, and sat back in his seat.

She placed her hand on his knee, stroking it up and down, and he placed his own palm on hers, intertwining their fingers, clasping them almost painfully in a tight embrace.

She straightened herself proudly, feeling that they must support each other now more than ever.

She could not leave him.

Aegon cocked his head seeing this.

"See? The younger brother should always listen to the older brother. I want the best for you and your wife." He said, looking at her with such a look that she felt her stomach twist.

Even from the feast after their wedding, after he said the door to his chamber would always be open to her, she knew that she had caught his eye.

She had pretended over the months that she did not see his surreptitious glances at her when her husband was not looking, that she did not feel his burning gaze on her lips and breasts.

The thought that he was now King, that he could send her husband off to war just to left her alone in the keep, terrified her.

She would never give him what he desired, but what if he wanted to take it by force?

She swallowed loudly at the thought, weak and pale, trying to focus on the warmth of her husband's hand, stroking his skin with her thumb.

They returned to his chamber in sullen moods; Lyanna helped her remove her gown and unbraid her hair. When she had finished, she dismissed her and glanced over her shoulder at her husband. He was sitting by the fireplace again, thoughtful, his face expressing nothing.

Since she slept in his quarters it was she who helped him remove his clothes to sleep.

She approached him slowly, but he did not even look at her. She knelt down in front of him and saw that he opened his mouth to protest, but only swallowed loudly as she pressed her cheek against his thigh, embracing his knee with her arms, closing her eyes.

She needed his closeness and protection.

She was as scared and frightened as he was.

She felt a pleasant shiver as she felt his fingers slide into her hair, their tips combing through her dark curls so tenderly that she felt like she was about to cry.

"Come here." He said quietly, calmly, softly. She rose slowly, climbing onto his thighs, and he drew her to him like a small child, pressing her head into the hollow of his neck, the other holding on her back, stroking her.

She knew that they both needed something more than intimate lovemaking right now, even if he would never admit it.

They lingered like this, comforting each other with their closeness, thoughtful, the darkness around them illuminated only by the flames and the sound of the fire. She was snapped out of her blissful half-sleep by the quiet voice of her husband.

"One day I will make you my queen." He whispered softly, as if he were speaking of something forbidden, defiled, cursed. She rose slowly, looking at him in pain, placing her hand on his shoulder.

They looked at each other for a moment, she could see on his face that he was waiting for her reaction.

For what her response would be to his indirect admission, to his most dangerous, darkest desire.

She stroked his cheek with her hand, running her fingertips over his scar and he squinted his eye at her gentle touch, letting out a quiet breath. He trembled and quickly caught her wrist when he felt her wanting to remove his eye patch.

"No." He said dryly, nervous and scared at the same time, suddenly all tense, his lips tightened into a thin line.

She was not frightened.

She had long since stopped being afraid of him.

"If I am to support you with my whole self, if I am to become your Queen, you can no longer hide from me who you are." She mumbled quietly, his pupil narrowed in surprise at her words, utterly not expecting it.

She could see that he was in complete shock, pale and terrified, she saw how hesitant he was.

He wanted to say something but couldn't, his hand holding her wrist trembling slightly.

"… it's a repulsive sight." He choked out finally, uncertainly and weakly.

She knew what he feared.

He feared that she would stop desiring him.

And along with her desire, he would lose all her tenderness, everything they had managed to build between them.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he had feared this all this time, all these months strenuously checking that his eye patch was fastened tightly enough not to slip off his face as he made love to her.

That's why he took her from behind.

Then he didn't focus on the fact that she might accidentally see him.

"I find it repulsive to see your brother-king, even though he has two eyes." She hummed with a smirk; he snorted at her words, amused, shaking his head, lowering his gaze.

She felt his grip on her wrist loosen, his gaze directed at her again, watching vigilantly to see what she would do.

He drew in a quick breath as her hand slid his eye patch off his head in one, sure flick of her wrist.

Her heart stopped for a moment, her lips parted in surprise when she saw that in the pocket of his skull where his eyeball had once been was a large, polished sapphire, shimmering ominously in the fire.

She thought that it was the most demonic and arousing sight she had ever seen in her life.

She felt his chest rise and fall in uncertainty, searching her face with horror for any sign of disgust or fear. Her hands cupped his cheeks, her face leaning over him to kiss slowly every inch of his scar and eyelid, running slowly downwards, drawing a loud, exasperated sigh from him.

"Ābrazȳrys (wife)…" He whispered, and she smiled, renewing the caress again, his hand tightening on her back against the material of her nightgown.

She felt his cock pulsate hard between her thighs, clearly delighted by her gentle, tender touch and by her reaction. Encouraged, she began to rub against him with slow rocking of her hips.

She heard him begin to breathe loudly, his manhood becoming completely hard after several such strokes. She felt him throbbing between her thighs at this unforced closeness, her nipples hardening completely, shining through the thin material of her gown.

He saw this and clung to them as he had on their wedding night, slipping her chemise off her one shoulder, pressing his lips to her exposed breast, sucking on it almost immediately.

She moaned in delight as she felt the tip of his tongue trail around her nipple, sucking on it once in a while, making her sticky wetness run down her thighs, his free hand tighten on her buttock, forcing her to speed up.

"− one day I will caress your soft breasts like this on the Iron Throne, sweet wife −" He muttered low, panting heavily, his words making her clamp her hands in his hair, pressing him closer to her. She felt him quickly untie his breeches, his erection all swollen, twitching with desire, ready to possess her.

She lifted herself quickly, thirsty and flustered, and sank down on top of him, stretching her fleshy insides with the fat head of his cock, both of them letting out a gasp of delight. She began to ride him with a wet click of her moisture, involuntarily watching his face, his sparkling sapphire eye, her husband's face, whole as he was, sucking on her breast.

"− is that so? − the King will not fondle his mistresses in the privacy of the Throne Room −" She hummed, smiling coquettishly, panting quietly, rising and falling on thick, throbbing mannhood in an unhurried, soft pace, sliding it inside her to the very end each time, moaning quietly as it's tip pressed the front wall of her fleshy core.

She heard him chuckle lowly, as he was clearly amused by her words.

"− as a king, I could indeed have a mistress −" He muttered, running the tip of his nose over her nipple, playing with it between his lips, sucking and licking it, drawing a loud whimper of pleasure from her. "− she would have to meet a lot of conditions to satisfy me though −"

"− to have your firm breasts −" He breathed out, and she moaned at his words, surprised and aroused, pressing him tighter to her chest, holding her hand in his white, pearl hair as he began to rock his hips inside her.

"− to have your soft hips − your small hands − your shiny hair − your bright eyes − gods, your tight, hot insides −" He growled out, clenching his hands on her hips, forcing her to speed up, thrusting his cock into her brutally and quickly, panting loudly, feeling her hot, soft walls tightening on every inch of his hard length.

She wasn't sure she'd ever been aroused like this before in her life, his words made her feel as if she were burning from the inside, their closeness, his face that he dared to show her at last, his eye looking at her ominously, making a shiver of pleasure run through her every time with a wet, perverted click she fell against his cock again, panting along with him.

She parted her moist, swollen lips, brushing the skin of his face once in a while before catching her breath again.

"− and if she had it all − would you fuck her? −" She mumbled sweetly, softly, almost on the verge of her peak, her insides beginning to pulse hard against him, craving fulfilment, his thrusts sloppy and messy, sticky and loud from her juices.

She could hear how aroused he was by what was happening between them, by the fact that they were speaking about things that shouldn't be said about.

"− no − fuck − she wouldn't have your voice − your scent − she wouldn't moan like you −" He gasped, clenching his eye, tilting his head back, she knew that he imagined they weren't sitting in his chamber now, but in the throne room, and she was just riding him on the Iron Throne.

She felt her nipples harden painfully at his words and that thought, she knew that a few more thrusts of his length and she was about to come as hard as she had never come before in her life.

"− my king-husband deserves it all −" She cooed, her lips parted wide, her eyes clenched, his pushes loud, fast and sticky, his fingers clenched painfully tight on her hips, seeking fulfilment.

"− he can fuck me on his throne whenever and however he wants − ah, Aemond, please! −" She sobbed, tilting her head back, feeling a powerful wave of hot, tickling pleasure pass through her, the delight she felt, the heat that spread through her body made her unable to calm down, writhing on top of him.

"− fuck, yes, just like that − oh, gods −" Was the only thing he managed to get out of himself before he came inside her with a loud, low, fulfilled groan, tilting his head back, clenching his eye, consumed by his own dreams and desires, the sight of them, fucking on the throne that was his right.

They lingered over each other, enthralled by the experience, at least for a moment able to escape the cruel, dark reality that enveloped them like a night that was never to end.

However now, in this moment, they were both happy and fulfilled.

She pressed her forehead against his and felt that they were both hot and sweaty, their eyes closed, their breaths loud and raspy.

She felt him embrace her and pull her close, hugging her to his chest, hearing his whisper.

"You're the only one I trust."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

[ann-atar]

Re: Sauron, iterations in TROP

... or my impressions so far, going in the order we were introduced to them/him.

Halbrand-Sauron My least favorite Sauron! Now I have to preface this and say that I was not spoiled, at all, for any of the first season. I didn't look at anything online except the episodes themselves and the trailers/previews, so I really didn't know much about this character except what we were shown, so my initial impression of Halbrand was, I believe, exactly what I imagine the showrunners wanted it to be.

I thought Halbrand was sketchy and, honestly, a bit gross. Not in terms of looks but, like, everything else. His whole personality got under my skin and I could not stand him. (Kudos Charlie Vickers! I didn't know what you were doing at the time but damn.)

I felt for Galadriel because of all the Men she could come across after going through so much, she had to face off against this rather smarmy dude-bro. I was honestly baffled when she wouldn't be talked out of the idea that he was the lost king of the Southlands because it seemed like a wild supposition despite the fact that he had that heraldry. But Galadriel was -- is -- so traumatized that it didn't really matter who he was, she was going to find a cause and a way to fight the Enemy even if she had to elevate this obviously (to us) sketchy person.

My entire reaction to the evolution of Galadriel's fantasy about Halbrand's character was: girl no, girl please, girl stop. Which, rather ironically, was Sauron's initial reaction too. He tried so hard to shake her and it was almost funny, until it wasn't, because Sauron being Sauron means that he can't help but reach for power in whatever form it takes (imo in his mind there was not much difference between an army from the Southlands and the Uruk army, they could both be turned and/or further corrupted to suit his purpose).

The only times I liked Halbrand at all were when he did seem to be trying pretty hard to carve out a new life for himself with the smiths' guild in Numenor. He was honestly really passionate about making things, and it was too bad he couldn't reach for that new life in an above board, straightforward way. But that little spark, which I suppose we might call a hint of Mairon's lost light, was there again when he met Celebrimbor and helped out in his forge. At that point the story turned into more of a tragedy for all of these characters, Sauron included.

But being mildly annoyed and creeped out by Halbrand!Sauron did not prepare me for ...

Uncanny Valley Sauron The version of Sauron we saw in the flashback when Adar tried to kill him was ... unsettling. Too shiny. Wildly out of place. He made my skin crawl and that short scene was amazing because the tension surrounding him was palpable. A whole crowd of Uruk, and Adar, held somewhat in his thrall and tiptoeing around their erstwhile king -- but why? We can't see exactly what came before but it must have been BAD.

I call this version "Uncanny Valley" Sauron because there was something so off about him, and there was also a sense that he was acting out what he thought someone in his position should be doing, playing dress-up for a day or an age, and in a body that he wasn't quite used to, still figuring out what that body should do and say in that particular role and context.

When Adar made to crown him in front of the assembled Uruk, and he swept his cape around himself with that little flourish, I was holding my breath, not just because I was anticipating the inevitable violence but because he was so ... weird. Seriously. When they attacked it was more visceral than I thought it would be, but Uncanny Valley Sauron didn't even die like a being of flesh and blood, which was also unexpected and impressive.

The Uruk impact the surface of him, they break into the shell of his flesh suit until the real "him" escapes, but because they don't understand much about the nature of his being, Adar and the Uruk interpreted that as destruction, as death. Which of course it would have been for almost any other creature, but Sauron is a Maia and they're ... built different.

At that point I think we crossed over into horror territory, and we get to meet ...

Zhajiangmian!Sauron, a.k.a. The Thing Not everyone liked this version of Sauron but I was cheering wildly because not only does it show that his nature is alien, so far from what we know of the other inhabitants of Middle-earth, but it does something else: it shows us, in gruesome detail, exactly what Mairon, a creature of fire and light, was reduced to under Melkor.

That black ooze? It's not his blood, it's him.

Even in the shadow realm he still appears as blackness, decay, and ashes, even if his skin still burns with some of his lost fire, and that's just awful. Thing!Sauron in the rocks beneath the mountain, consuming any spark of life that got too close and then slithering up and up toward the light ... I don't know if this comparison has been made before, but I'm calling this version The Thing because it reminds me somewhat of the creature in the John Carpenter movie from the 80's. In that movie, the thing/alien/creature consumes and mimics any living being, and it's very hard to tell that the person being mimicked isn't "real," or isn't themselves. Until they're cornered, confronted, and inevitably kill again.

In Carpenter's (horror) movie, The Thing mimics life and can take on almost any form, but it seems more inclined to impersonate living things that can communicate. Why? We don't know, we're not told, but it does have an innate drive to keep going, and to continue down a path of death and destruction for as long as it survives.

Of course this is not a complete parallel with Sauron, but it's close, and I can't help but think that's by design. And that we were supposed to consider what kind of being a Maia is, originally, and how much torture of all kinds would be required to transform a brilliant demi-god into the creature (the filth!) that crawled across Middle-earth with a similar appetite for destruction after Adar's attempt to kill it.

Which gives us a great deal of information on the nature of ...

Annatar!Sauron, Celebrimbor's Lord of Gifts If the black ooze under his flesh facade is him, that means that he sacrificed not blood, exactly, but parts of himself to create the Nine. Living parts, like tendrils forged into molten metal and shaped into the rings, connecting his will to the wearer's, his being forever sundered in a desperate bid to connect and dominate, a power over flesh but also made of "flesh," a power that reaches into the unseen world, but at what cost?

It's almost too much, that cost, and talk about horror! Sauron's living essence was forged into the rings, but near the end, in Eregion, it was smeared across Celebrimbor's desk, it was on his skin and under his fingernails, it was in Celebrimbor's hair. Annatar's corrupted essence is all over him, but in the end it doesn't dim Celebrimbor's light ...

After writing that I'm not sure how to convey why Annatar!Sauron is my favorite so far. I suppose I could say that he's the best/worst one to date, and that those actors together, playing Annatar and Celebrimbor, have created a phenomenal version of Sauron in general, and I'm pretty pleased with where this adaptation is taking him.

Sauron is no longer just the final boss in the spiky headgear we saw in the PJ films; after he transformed himself into this "lord of gifts," he's clearly a Maia who was tortured into insanity, whose essence was corroded and corrupted, turned dark and viscous when his nature was bold and bright, who still wants to create something even after ages spent twisting in the dark with no hope of regaining the light. It's a credit to the actor that we can accept that sketchy, sly Halbrand turned into a version of Sauron who was so nuanced and alien, and a credit to the showrunners who were able to let us see that progression.

Anyway.

I've already posted a lot about this latest version of Sauron, and rather than go over old ground and ramble even more wildly I'm going to link a few earlier meta posts here:

Finale Thoughts: Annatar, Celebrimbor, Galadriel

Pre-finale: Annatar, and Celebrimbor understanding the pattern

The Sauron Effect: TROP's Sauron is a great villain

Durin's immunity to the Sauron-effect

I'm still thinking about the relationship between Annatar and Celebrimbor, and the impact that will have on the forging of the One, and will doubtless have more thoughts on that in the future. If you got to the end of this post or have replied to my meta thank you, I'm enjoying the hell out of this show, the performances, and the fandom in general!

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 11) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Chapter 11

“Hey, there you are!” Spinner spots you and Tomura first as you step through the portal. “Twice is on his way. We thought you two were never going to show up!”

Tomura lets go of your hand and peels off his gloves, heading for the pile of gear that contains the rest of the hands and his coat. He put the hand he calls Father on his face before you left the apartment. “Kurogiri was busy.”

“Sure he was.” On the far corner of the wall, Dabi is rolling his eyes. “We all know what you two were busy doing.”

Your face heats up, but you’re behind your veil, and Tomura’s busy securing a set of hands over his neck, covering both the bandage and the mark you left on the other side. Nobody else seems too interested in joining Dabi in picking on you, although Magne’s ribbing him for supposed jealousy over his own lack of a cute girlfriend. Toga is studying you. “You changed your costume,” she says, and you hold your breath while she renders her verdict. “It’s cute.”

Compress drifts closer to investigate, too. “It’s an improvement. What’s the occasion?”

“We’re meeting somebody in an official capacity. I just thought I shouldn’t wear street clothes.”

Your costume upgrade isn’t much, and it took a while to put together. You’ve still got the grey veil and crown of thorns, but underneath it you’ve added a grey long-sleeved tunic you thrifted, leggings you bought, and boots you already had. Then you decided that the tunic was a little shapeless and cinched it at the waist with a red scarf. Worst comes to worst, you can use it as a tourniquet. You were worried about what Tenko would think of the entire effect, but when you showed him before Kurogiri came to get the two of you, you could tell he was pleased. Pleased enough to kiss you over it, although it took a while to make it work around the veil.

The aesthetics of your costume aren’t the important part. There’s a thin backpack over your shoulders, completely hidden by the back of the veil, which contains your best approximation of an EMT kit, and there’s a spare suture kit taped to your thigh, out of sight under the tunic. That was Tenko’s idea. He doesn’t want Overhaul to guess what role you play in the League.

And apparently he’s not the only one who’s been thinking along those lines. “It’s a good thing you changed your costume,” Spinner says. You look questioningly at him before remembering that he can’t see your face under the veil. “We were thinking. Shigaraki wants you to stay undercover, which means we can’t use your name in front of outsiders. And that means you need –”

“A code name!” Toga chimes in. “We all talked about it –”

“Nobody liked my ideas,” Dabi mutters.

You don’t even want to know. “And we all agreed,” Compress continues. “Unless Shigaraki has already given you one –”

You look to Tomura. This looks like it’s news to him, just like it’s news to you, and he only ever calls you by name. He shakes his head. “Excellent,” Compress says. “Spinner’s idea was chosen. Spinner should reveal it.”

Spinner looks a little nervous. “We already use a nickname for you,” he starts, “but ‘Saint’ sounds really dumb for a code name. So we decided instead – Saintess.”

It’s quiet for a second. “That’s not a word,” Tomura says.

“It is! We looked it up,” Toga sings out. “It’s like actor and actress, or villain and villainess. Saint, Saintess. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

You’re not sure if you like it. It feels like kind of a dig against you. More than ‘kind of’, if you’re being honest. “It suits your look,” Magne points out. “And your attitude, since the boss wouldn’t dream of letting you get your hands dirty.”

“My hands will get dirty the first time one of you gets hurt,” you say. “You have the important work. My job is to make sure you can keep doing it.”

“Spoken like a true Saintess,” Compress proclaims. “Shigaraki. Your thoughts?”

“Yeah. She’s your girlfriend,” Dabi says. “You really want to let Spinner name her?”

Tomura considers it for a moment. “If it’s a good name, it doesn’t matter who it comes from. And it’s better to be named by your friends than your enemies.” He nods to Spinner. “It’s a good name. Call her Saintess from now on.”

Toga wandered over to one of the windows while Tomura was talking, but now she hurries back. “I see Twice! He’s got the other guy with him.”

“Places,” Tomura orders, and the League scatters to the sides. He reaches out and links little fingers with you. “You’re with me. This way.”

The League arranges themselves on and around a pile of shipping containers, set up in a rough pyramid. Tomura settles on one just below the highest level, and you sit down on one just below his, slightly off to the side so you won’t block his view. Tomura looks dissatisfied. “You should be up here,” he says. “But it’ll draw his attention to you. I’m not risking that.”

“I’m fine where I am,” you say. You glance up at him. “How’s your neck?”

“It’ll be fine,” he says, which means it hurts. You’ll look at it later, once this is over. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. You did a great job with the aftercare.”

Tomura’s face flushes, and you remind yourself to be careful what you say. The hand over his face doesn’t hide him nearly as well as your veil hides you. “Tell me what your friend said about them again,” he says. “The Hassaikai.”

“The new head – the one we’re meeting – he isn’t liked the way the old one was,” you say. “Someone who worked for both of them called him a monster. After he left the gang.”

“Yakuza don’t defect. For someone to do something like that, it must be serious.” Tenko’s expression is grim behind the hand. He raises his voice. “Be careful. Twice is trustworthy, but the one he’s bringing isn’t.”

“Understood.”

“You got it, boss,” Magne says, winking.

“For sure, Tomura-kun!” Toga chirps. She’s the only person other than you who uses Tomura’s given name. “I can’t wait to meet our new friend!”

You wish you had Toga’s optimism. Instead, all you feel as the head of the Shie Hassaikai walks into the warehouse is apprehension. You know you shouldn’t. Everyone here is battle-tested, except you. Everybody here has a quirk, except you. They can handle themselves, and they have the yakuza boss outnumbered seven to one – and if things wind up, it’s your job to settle them down.

Overhaul wears a mask over the lower half of his face, and thin white gloves on both hands. Is his quirk in his hands, like Tomura’s is? He’s peering up at Tomura and the rest of you, only the barest spark of interest in his eyes. “So this is where you’ve been hiding. I expected a little more.”

“It takes some time for an organization to adjust following a change in leadership,” Tomura says. “I’m sure you understand.”

Overhaul inclines his head. “Of course. Still, I expected more from All For One’s student.”

His voice is dry, almost inflectionless. Tomura chuckles. “And yet you’re coming to me, not the other way around. Explain that.”

Overhaul’s eyes started on Tomura. Now they’re shifting, from Magne and Spinner and Dabi on one side to Compress and Toga and Twice on the other. Then back to Tomura. Then down to you. His eyes are still on you as he addresses Tomura again. “To my generation, your master was nothing more than a dark legend, but the elders believed we still had reason to fear him. It seems they were right.”

To fear him, not to fear Tomura. Overhaul’s not scared of Tomura, and he doesn’t seem worried about just how badly outnumbered he is. Your stomach clenches. “With All Might gone, the underworld is in chaos,” Overhaul continues. “And it’ll stay that way, so long as the question of who the next leader will be remains in doubt.”

“I’m the next leader.” Tomura’s confidence sounds unshakeable. “All Might fell because of the League’s actions. The heroes are rattled because of what we’ve done.”

He gestures at all of you. “We’ve got victories to our name. What have you got?”

“All Might didn’t fall. He was forced to retire. And it was by your master’s hand, not yours.” Overhaul’s gaze drifts across the League, lingering on each person for a few moments, you included. “Every time you’ve won, you’ve taken losses equal to or greater than the victory you’ve claimed. You still have outside help – you don’t look nearly as filthy as I’d expect for staying three weeks in a warehouse without running water – but it’s much less than you had before.”

“Congratulations. You have eyes.” Tomura’s voice is sharp. “But again – you came to us. Not the other way around. I’m the next leader. You can join me or you can stay out of my way.”

“Let’s assume you’re correct, and you are the next leader. What’s your goal?”

Tomura scoffs. “To expose the so-called heroic system for what it is, and bring it down.”

“How?”

The question rings out, and it’s met with silence. Too long of a silence. Tomura regroups, but not fast enough. “All Might –”

“One hero, who would have retired anyway. Others will come to take his place,” Overhaul says. “You have ideals, but ideals are useless without a plan. And I have a plan.”

Tomura’s jaw is clenched, and you see Spinner’s shoulders stiffen, see a blue spark flicker around Dabi’s fingers. Useless is never anything but inflammatory, and you know enough about the League at this point to know that almost all of them feel like they’ve been thrown away. You speak before anyone else can. “It’s nice that you have a plan,” you say to Overhaul. Nice isn’t the best word, but you’re thinking on your feet. “That’s less important than your goal. If your goal doesn’t align with ours, we should go our separate ways in peace.”

Overhaul studies you. “We do share a goal,” he says after a moment. “The destruction of the current system, and a return to the old ways. We can assist each other in that regard.”

“How?”

“My plan is sound, but my organization is small, with few flashy victories. In order to secure more support –”

“You want our name,” Tomura says. “Why should we loan it to you?”

Overhaul doesn’t answer him. “Put yourselves under me,” he says, and the League reacts exactly how you’d expect them to. Overhaul ignores them. “I’ll ensure you’re better taken care of than this. In exchange, you’ll reap the rewards of my plan to return to the old order.”

“And take orders from you?” Tomura’s voice is full of scorn. “I don’t think so.”

“It isn’t a request.” Overhaul shakes his head. “You lack the vision necessary to make your childish dreams a reality. Since your master didn’t teach you properly, it falls to someone else to rein you in.”

It’s not a request. If it’s not a request, it’s because he thinks he has the upper hand. Why does he think that? “Someone ought to rein you in,” Magne says. She’s on her feet, and a bolt of terror shoots through you. “I’ll put you in your place.”

She activates her quirk, and Overhaul’s yanked towards her from across the warehouse. It surprises him, but not enough. You see him yank off one of his sheer gloves, extend his hand, making contact with Magne’s forearm before her support item can strike the side of his head. He touches her, and then –

Spinner, Toga, and Twice all cry out, but it’s too late. You can barely make sense of what you’re seeing. Dabi looks up at you, shouts at you to do something, but Magne’s beyond your help, beyond anyone’s. Even if you had a healing quirk, you’d need something to heal, and the top half of Magne’s body is gone. All that’s left are her support items and her legs, which teeter horribly in place, twitching, before falling limply to the floor.

Everyone’s frozen – you, Dabi, even Tomura. The only person who moves is the person who’s close enough to contain the situation. Compress lunges forward. A gunshot rings out from somewhere, and you see his arm jerk as his hand makes contact with Overhaul. His quirk should contain Overhaul instantly, but nothing happens. Overhaul seizes him by the wrist with the same hand that killed Magne and blows his arm apart.

He screams, and the sound breaks your paralysis and Tomura’s at the same time. You both leap into motion, Tomura headed for Overhaul, you aiming for Compress, and for a few seconds, you’re running side by side. A second gunshot rings out, from the same direction as before. You know who they’re aiming at, whoever they are. You throw yourself forward, getting ahead of Tomura by a single step, and the bullet tears through your veil, sinks into your shoulder. It doesn’t hurt like you expected it to. It feels more like a sting.

There’s a third shot, but Tomura’s aware now. He dodges, closing the gap between himself and Overhaul, and you readjust your trajectory and race to Compress’s side.

The floor’s covered in his blood and Magne’s, but you drop to your knees at his side anyway. There’s an explosion somewhere in the offing, and for a moment, you’re dragged back to Kamino – but you aren’t there, and you’ve got a job to do. You pull your backpack from beneath the veil, unzip it, and start pressing sterile pads down over the open wound. Compress howls, tries to squirm away, but someone pins him in place. Spinner, who’s come to help. You don’t have even a second to thank him. Your entire world narrows down to finding a way to control the bleeding, to secure the bandages, to make sure the job Overhaul started isn’t finished on your watch.

You don’t see what happens with Overhaul. You hear pieces of it, enough to know that the Hassaikai is withdrawing for now, that Tomura killed one of them, that the not-a-request is still on the table and Overhaul fully expects Tomura to agree once he’s had time to think. And then he’s leaving. Overhaul is leaving, and Magne is dead – but Overhaul’s quirk isn’t what he did to Compress and Magne, is it? That can’t be it. If that was it, they’d call it something else. If that’s not all it is, is there something more he can do?

“Wait!” The words leave your mouth at a volume you didn’t expect, and Overhaul’s progress towards the hole he punched in the wall stops. He turns back to face you, and you seize the chance to speak before anyone else can stop you. “You can fix people, can’t you?”

Overhaul inclines his head. That’s as close to a yes as you’re going to get. You swallow hard. “Please,” you say, “bring Magne back.”

“Why should I do that?” Overhaul’s voice is flat. “He attacked first.”

“She did,” you admit.

“And Shigaraki killed one of my subordinates. Wouldn’t you say we’re even?”

“No,” you say. Overhaul tilts his head to one side, studying you. “You called the person Tomura killed a subordinate. Magne is our friend. We made a mistake, but you can save her. Please, bring her back.”

Don’t disagree with him, but make your point. Don’t look helpless, but hand him as much power as you can. Be respectful, deferential, but not submissive. Every de-escalation skill you’ve ever practiced flashes through your head, and it’ll all be useless if any of the other members of the League open their mouths, Tomura included. But they’re quiet, for once, and Overhaul’s still looking at you. What happens to Magne now is up to him – and up to you, if you’re able to convince him.

“If I bring him back, I leave a valuable piece in Shigaraki’s hands, and I’m not interested in rewarding bad behavior,” he says. You nod. He’s not saying no yet. As long as he hasn’t said no, there’s a chance. “So I’ll make you a deal. If you value his life so much, then I’ll bring him back – and you’ll leave him here for the police to find.”

Your stomach lurches. “Decide quickly,” Overhaul says, and finally, he looks away from you. “As the leader, Shigaraki, the choice is yours.”

Tomura doesn’t hesitate. “Bring her back.”

Overhaul walks past you without looking at you again, to the same spot where Magne’s legs and support item lay in a pool of blood. He peels his glove off his hand and touches the puddle of blood and tissue. You don’t know how to explain what he’s doing, except that he’s reassembling her body, piece by piece. Someone throws up – Spinner, who at least has the presence of mind to turn away from Compress before he does it. Compress, and his missing arm. Why didn’t you negotiate for that as well? You’re an idiot. You’re out of your mind, and Compress is still losing blood. Your job still isn’t done.

You don’t look up again until you’ve packed enough sterile pads onto the stump of Compress’s arm that they don’t bleed through instantly, and when you look up, you find the rest of the League gathered around, and Overhaul’s minions standing back, guarding the exits. Twice is melting down. Toga’s trying to console him, but she looks furious herself, and Dabi’s expression is masklike, frozen. Tomura crouches next to you. “How is he?”

“I’ve secured it for now, but he needs those arteries clamped off. Does law enforcement know his face?” You see Tomura shake his head out of the corner of your eye. “If we take the mask off and lose some of the costume, I can take him to the clinic. They won’t ask questions.”

Tomura nods once. “I’ve called Kurogiri. He’ll take you there. Can you stay with him?”

“We can’t stay here,” Dabi interrupts sharply, before you can finish saying yes. “Half the prefecture heard that explosion. Where are we supposed to go?”

“Back to the waystation.” Tomura answers before you can offer. You would have. He looks to you. “Meet us back there as soon as you can get away.”

Warp gates begin to appear, engulfing the other members of the League, and you start removing the identifying features of Compress’s costume. Hat, waistcoat, tie, mask, the one remaining glove. Now he just looks like a normal guy. A guy who’s had a really awful accident. You pack up your medical kit, put your backpack on, and start pulling Compress to his feet. He doesn’t resist, exactly. It’s more that he just doesn’t try. “Leave me here. I lost my arm. My quirk. There’s no point to anything anymore.”

You’ve lived your whole life without a quirk. It’s not the end of the world. Sometimes people with quirks say the dumbest things. You chalk it up to blood loss and decide to ignore it. “I’m not leaving you behind. We’re going to get you patched up and get back to the others.

The warp gate appears and you drag Compress through it, the two of you emerging in the alleyway behind the clinic. You barely remember to take off the veil and crown and tuck them away before you and Compress make it to the waiting room. All you can think about is how you failed to negotiate for Compress’s arm. All you can think about is how you had to leave Magne behind.

You figured it might be a while before you got back to your apartment, but you weren’t counting on all the complications – the clinic’s short-staffed, and in order to circumvent the policy about sending major trauma to the ER unless there’s no choice, you hop in to help and free up a nurse-practitioner with a quirk that helps blood clot to tend to Compress. Unsurprisingly, there are questions about how Compress got the injury. You don’t feel any shame in saying that a villain did it.

About four hours in, you get a phone call on the clinic’s phone. The person who initially answers it tells you it’s your sister, which sounds not-right – Isuzu doesn’t know where you work, and if she wanted to talk to you, she’d call your phone, not the clinic’s. You pick up the call and hear Toga’s voice on the other end. “Tomura-kun wants to talk to you,” she says. She sounds miserable. “Hang on.”

Tomura doesn’t sound much better than her. “How is he?”

“As good as he can be. Once he’s hemodynamically stable they’ll let him go.” You hear the questioning sound Tomura makes and define your terms. “Once his blood volume’s a little more compatible with life. How are things back there?”

“Fucked.” There’s a light thud. You imagine Tomura flopping back against the wall. “Twice hasn’t quit freaking out. Dabi and Spinner are climbing the fucking walls. Toga is – I don’t know what. You need to come back soon. I don’t know what to do.”

“As soon as I can. But you do know what to do.” You try to think. “Tell them that he won’t get away with this. That we’ll make sure he answers for it. Make them believe you.”

You think of what you’ve seen from the League so far, how they’ve gone from at each other’s throats that first night in the bar to ready to fight for each other now. It’s because of Tomura, because of who he is. “You’ve always known how to do that.”

Someone shouts for you down the hall – something about a patient who needs a pelvic exam. You wince. “I have to go. I’ll call when we’re ready for – wait, how are you calling me? Whose phone is this?”

“Yours. You left it on the kitchen table.”

You did. You’re not under suspicion, but you didn’t want to risk anybody tracking your phone’s location. “I’ll call when we’re ready for a pickup. Soon.”

“Soon.” Tomura hangs up, and you head down the hall to talk a patient into a pelvic exam they really don’t want.

The nurse-practitioner who was looking after Compress really doesn’t want to let him go, but you manage to talk her into it, and you and Compress make it back to the alley and through the warp gate to your apartment. The mood within the apartment is palpable. Sadness. Frustration. Fury. With the number of unstable personalities in the League, it’s a miracle that no one’s trashed the place yet.

Dabi is sprawled on the couch, but even he’s not so much of an asshole that he’d make Compress stand. He gets up, and once Compress is lying down, he climbs up to sit on the back of the couch instead. He peers down at Compress. “You look like hell.”

“So would you.” Compress looks pretty sickeningly pale. “I lost my arm and my quirk.”

“Your quirk?” 

“He touched Overhaul. It should have worked,” Spinner says. “But it was after he got shot with one of those.”

He points at the coffee table. There’s a bright-red capsule sitting there. You’d say it was a bullet, except for the fact that it’s tipped with a needle. “What is that?”

“We don’t know,” Tomura says. He’s sitting on your kitchen table, legs crossed, elbows on his knees. “We need to find out.”

“I heard three shots.” Toga’s voice drifts out of the kitchen. When you take a peek, you find she and Twice lying on their backs on the tiles. “One hit Mr. Compress and one missed Tomura-kun. What about the third one?”

You become aware, suddenly, of a sore spot on your shoulder. “I think that was me.”

“Right,” Spinner says. “You and Shigaraki both ran. I saw you get in front of him. What happened to your quirk?”

You look blankly at him. Is it really possible that the League doesn’t know you’re quirkless? Tomura wouldn’t have told him. It doesn’t matter to him. You glance to Tomura. Tomura nods once, and you take a deep breath. No matter how many times you say it, it never gets easier. “I don’t have one.”

It’s quiet for a second. “Twice,” Dabi says, “pay up.”

“No fair,” Twice protests. “You bet she had a lame quirk, not that she didn’t have one at all.”

“Having no quirk is probably better than having a lame quirk,” Spinner says. You’d argue, except you have a vague idea of the hell that heteromorphs go through, and if Spinner would rather have your problem than his, you’re not going to judge him for it. “Healing quirks are really rare anyway. And I’ve heard they burn through tons of mana.”

“Even if you had one, it’s not like you could make somebody’s arm grow back,” Toga says practically. “Or somebody’s –”

She trails off. You know what she’s thinking of, because you’re thinking of it, too – what happened to Magne, something so sudden and catastrophic that it would take a miracle or turning back time to fix. You got a miracle, but you lost Magne anyway. Her arrest was reported on the news while you were still at the clinic. In the silence that falls, Tomura climbs down from the kitchen table and steps into the center of the room. “Three days from now I’ll tell Overhaul that we’re accepting his offer,” he says. No one says a word. “When we respond to what he did, we need to respond decisively. That means we need more information. And we need to know more about this.”

He points at the bullet on the coffee table. “Starting tomorrow, Compress will test his quirk on the hour, every hour, to see how fast it returns.”

“It won’t return.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Tomura says. He looks around at the rest of you. “Compress’s injury and what happened to Magne won’t go unanswered. But our answer will be the final word. Does anyone disagree?”

There’s silence. Tomura turns away and climbs back onto the kitchen table, assuming the same position as before. You check one last time on your patient, note that he’s shivering, and find a blanket to drape over him. Dabi is peering through your closed blinds, down at the street; Spinner’s sprawled in one of your chairs, lost in thought. Kurogiri is wherever Kurogiri goes when Tomura doesn’t summon him. Now that you think about it, it’s strange that Tomura didn’t summon him for the meeting with Overhaul.

You have questions about that. But as much as your feelings are pulling you in Tomura’s direction, you know rationally that it’s Twice and Toga you need to check on first.

You have a feeling they won’t react well to you checking on them. You’re not their mom or their sister. You head into the kitchen with the excuse of making tea and step carefully around and over them, trying to think of a solid opening line. “If you guys want somewhere to sit, I’ll arm-wrestle Spinner over that armchair.”

“Hey!”

You don’t know why Spinner’s getting wound up. In an arm-wrestling contest between the two of you, you’d almost definitely lose. “Twice likes the floor better. It’s cool and welcoming,” Toga says. She doesn’t open her eyes. “Sorry I said I was your sister.”

“You should have said cousin.” Twice’s eyes are closed, too. “You two don’t look anything alike.”

“I was on the phone. They couldn’t see me.”

“Sister was the right call,” you say. “I only have one female cousin, and she’s a villain.”

“Really?” Toga sits up, interested, and Tomura looks up from the kitchen table. “Why isn’t she in the League?”

“I don’t know that she’s, um, in your league,” you say. “Have you guys ever heard of Gentle Criminal?”

“That guy? I’ve met him! He’s a tool,” Twice says cheerily. “We were locked up in the same holding cell one time. The first time he went to jail it was for trying to be a hero. Your cousin’s with him?”

“Yeah, she’s his sidekick. Or videographer. Or something.” You’re understating it slightly. “I’m pretty sure they’re a thing.”

“Like you and Tomura-kun?”

“Not like that,” Twice disagrees before you can say anything. “The boss is way cooler. Saintess has better taste.”

“Or higher standards,” Toga says. “Or both.”

“What are their quirks?” Tomura asks. He slides down from the kitchen table and comes closer. “Could we use them?”

“I’m not sure about his. Hers – I don’t think so.” Your family thought Manami was quirkless for a while. When her quirk popped up late in primary school, they were thrilled. “None of my family are power types. All their quirks do is change things about other people – like status effects in a video game. My dad can change how people perceive time, so time-out really sucked when I was a kid. My youngest sisters can make people feel the same emotions they feel, which is terrible.”

Tomura makes a disgusted sound. “That’s worse than the twins.”

It’s not great, but on the whole, you’d rather deal with the triplets. “Those are all broad-spectrum. Manami – my cousin – her quirk is a power-up, but it only lets her affect one person. The person she loves the most. So unless her boss’s quirk is something really special, I don’t think they’d be much use.”

That’s true, but only halfway. You don’t want your cousin mixed up with the League. You don’t want anyone you know involved with them. You and Manami were pretty close, since you were the only quirkless ones in the family at for a while, and it was her running away to join Gentle Criminal that inspired you to shake off your parents and follow your own dream. You haven’t talked to her since, but ever since you found yourself a member of the League, you’ve thought about her more than usual. Wondering if she’s happy. Hoping she found what she was looking for, whatever it was. Praying she doesn’t get hurt.

The tea finishes steeping. Green tea. You remember Tomura likes that. You pass a cup to him, then down to Toga, and watch with no small sense of relief as Twice sits up for one of his own. When you look up, you find that Spinner’s come over, too. Once you’ve given him a cup, you call out to Dabi and Compress. “Do either of you want tea?”

Compress says no. Dabi, to your shock, says yes. “I’ll bring it to him,” Toga says. She hops up from the floor, takes the cup you pour, and brings it over to him at the window. When she comes back, she sits on the counter instead of the floor, and she focuses on you. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

Toga looks surprised. “That’s even more than me,” she says. “Are you the oldest? You seem like the oldest.”

Not by much, but enough to count. Enough to make sure your childhood ended before it began. “How did you know?”

“Nobody starts out good enough to be a Saintess,” Toga says with a shrug. “You have to learn it somewhere. I’m the oldest, too. But I was never very good at that part.”

You have to learn it somewhere. You’ve never heard someone say that before, but now that you think about it, it’s true. You wouldn’t have gotten so good at keeping things calm, at smoothing things over, if you hadn’t had to. If tamping down your feelings, controlling the negative ones by any means possible, hadn’t been a necessity in your family, you wouldn’t have done it. It’s a personality trait, but not one you were born with. For a split second, you wonder who you would have been if you hadn’t grown up the way you did – and then you realize that you know. The lessons you learned set in before the triplets were born, but long before. The person you would have been is who you were with your best friend.

You push the thought aside. “How many siblings do you have?” you ask Toga. “Did you get along?”

She says yes, which makes sense. She’s outgoing compared to the rest of the League, and just like you learned from your family, she learned from hers. Spinner surprises everybody when he chimes in about his family, too – he’s a middle child, with one older brother and one younger sister. Tomura doesn’t add anything, but that doesn’t surprise you. He stays at the edge of the conversation, listening, and you keep one eye on him and one on Twice. If you wait long enough, you have a feeling Twice will talk about what’s bothering him.

You’re right about that. He speaks up in the next lull in the conversation. “I wish Magne was here,” he says. “She’s the only big sister I ever had.”

It’s quiet for a little while. Twice’s voice is small when he speaks again. “It’s my fault. I brought him there.”

“Nobody blames you,” Spinner says. “He lied. It’s what villains do.”

Nobody steps in to point out to Spinner that he’s also a villain, and something clicks in your head: The League thinks Overhaul is more of a villain than they are. Having seen what Overhaul did, you’re not going to argue. “He lied,” Tomura agrees. “Unless you have a mind-reading quirk we didn’t know about, there’s no way you could have known what he was planning.”

“Big Sis wouldn’t blame you.” Toga pokes Twice in the shoulder with her foot. “So you shouldn’t blame you, either.”

“And she’s still alive,” Tomura adds. “We’ll deal with Overhaul, and then we’ll break her out of wherever the heroes are keeping her. It’s not anything close to over.”

The situation seems like it’s resolving, sort of, and you have other stuff to do. You finish your tea, then make your way out of the kitchen. If you’re going to be responsible for caring for Compress’s injuries, you need to make sure you have the necessary supplies. And there’s blood all over your costume. You should probably change. When you shut the door to your room and peel off the tunic, it sticks to you, which is when you realize that your skin is covered with dried blood, too. It’s all over you, and the sight reminds you of something you wish the memory wipe had cleared away – what happened in the wreckage of Tenko’s house, when you tripped and fell and sprawled out in what was left of a member of his family.

You need to clean up. You need to clean up right now. You strip out of your clothes on the way to the shower, turn the water on hot, and throw yourself in before it’s even started warming up.

The cold water isn’t enough to freeze out the memory, and the hot water can’t burn it away. It’s your turn to throw up in the bathroom, and you do, on your hands and knees in the shower, trusting the water to cover up the sound. Your head is spinning again, between Magne’s death and Compress’s injury and getting shot and getting Magne back and outing yourself as quirkless and getting a new name – a new name, like a villain, like your cousin Manami except you’re all but useless to the villain you serve – and hosting the League for the next three days, and getting shot. You keep forgetting that you got shot. You keep forgetting how it happened.

It’s been clear for a while that you put Tenko above yourself, in a lot of ways. His memory above your sanity. His mission above your integrity. His needs over your pain. But today was the first time you actually put Tenko’s life over your own. Sure, the gun had quirk-canceling bullets instead of real ones, but you didn’t know that when you heard the first shot. You heard the first shot, knew who the second one would be aimed at, and threw yourself in front of him. And you did it without hesitating.

You don’t like thinking about that. You don’t like looking at it, either, once you’re out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and trying to patch it back up. It’s not a bullet hole – more like a puncture wound, angry and inflamed, with jagged red lines emanating from the impact point. You don’t like looking at it so much that you leave dealing with it for last, patching up yesterday’s injuries and getting most of the way dressed before finally facing up to it. You’re just deciding whether to use spray disinfectant or antibiotic cream when someone knocks on the door. “Just a second,” you say, and the door opens anyway. It pisses you off. “Out. If you can’t give me a second –”

The door shuts again, and a moment later, Tenko appears in the mirror behind you. His eyes are fixed on the wound in your shoulder, and without asking, he lifts the supplies out of your hands and gets to work. He does with the Neosporin over the antiseptic spray. In general, you’re pretty stoic about pain, but the spot where the quirk-canceling bullet struck feels like the worst bruise you’ve ever gotten, combined with an ache in your shoulder and arm that almost feel like you’ve got the flu. You flinch from Tenko’s touch. “Careful.”

“Sorry.” Tenko’s hands are barely touching you. It just hurts. Now that you’ve let yourself admit it, you have to admit that it hurts a lot. “This was stupid. Don’t do it again.”

Your stomach clenches. It’s not like you were expecting him to thank you, but – “It was necessary. We’d have been in big trouble without your quirk. And I’m your sidekick. My job is to –”

“Have my back. Help me. Be with me.” Tenko looks up from his work, makes eye contact with you in the mirror. “We’re supposed to win together. You’re not supposed to die for me. I never let that happen.”

Even when you were little, you were a little too realistic for the games you and Tenko played. Sometimes you’d imagine yourselves into a corner you couldn’t see a way out of, and in those cases, you’d try to say your goodbyes – and Tenko never let you. If I can’t save my own sidekick, how will I save anyone else? “Those were just games.”

“And now they’re real. Nothing else has changed.” Tenko’s much more careful than usual as he bandages your shoulder. “Did you get the other ones?”

You nod. And while the two of you are here, he’s got wounds you need to check. You unwrap the bandage without asking, just like he did, and inspect the scratches. For injuries incurred last night, they don’t look so bad, and you pick up into the same routine as before. There’s something almost comforting about the pattern you’ve fallen into with Tenko, of tending to each other no matter where the wounds came from. It settles your nerves, slows down the frantic spinning of your mind. This is why you’re here. To be with Tenko. And you are, so what does the rest of it matter?

You’ve just put the panic in its place when Tenko speaks up. “Don’t do it again,” he says. “Say you won’t.”

“I won’t,” you say. The words roll off your tongue easily enough, but they feel wrong, and it’s not until Tenko kisses you that you understand why. All this time, he hasn’t lied to you. Whether he’s Tenko or Tomura, he tells you the truth. You’ve just lied to him for the first time ever, selling it so smoothly that he can’t help but believe you, and it feels awful.

It’s not the worst part, though. The worst part is that you’re not sorry.

[cryptidcorners]

Hello again! I have yet another request to ask of my favorite Mike writer, if you are in want of something to make. How about Abby’s babysitter girl and her are playing/reenacting Abby’s favorite fairy tale, then Mike steps in just in time and Abby demands he come over to play Prince Charming. Humiliating Mike, amusing the babysitter, and then also stirring up romantic feelings all the while. Thanks so much!

Crown - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: Mike is dragged into another one of Abby's plays, being forced to play Prince Charming with you as some warrior princess as the pairing. As Abby's creative tale unfolds, she's completely oblivious to your romantic tension with her older brother.

# requested by @/scribblesandsherlock

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Babysitter!Reader, Flusteted Mike, Domestic, Fluff, Playing With Abby, Fantasy Themed, Romantic Tension, Slice of Life, Friends to ? ? ?, Some Flirting, Cute Stuff, Feminine Terms used !

No Warnings.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

"And then—" Abby was holding a cardboard tube colored messily over your head, blessing you with the imaginary title of "Warrior queen of the Rabbit Kingdom." which held a decent ring to it. Trying hard to desperately not break out of character, you giggled and replied as seriously as you could: "Thank you for bestowing this honor on me, Queen Schmidt."

Abby giggled and cleared her throat, shaking in excitement. "Now, I give you the honor of my son. Prince—uhm, Schmidt." She shrugged at you with a smile, then shifted back into her Queen Schmidt personality. "So you can get married and live happily ever after," her eyes wandered around for a toy suitable to fit the role. You gazed around too, "Oh, no. Is your son, perhaps, missing?"

"I hope not." Abby said, "You'll see him." she scavenged around and you sat comfortably. Until you saw Mike walk into the room, fixing the color of his sweater, unknowing of the world he was about to accidentally walk into, "Hey Abs, have you seen my—" Mike halted. "What is happening?"

"Hey, you can be the prince." Abby said, "I think my crown can fix you."

Mike raised his hands defensively, "Oh, no. I'm not good at playing royalty." he shook his head. "Besides, I need to go shopping."

"When will you be back?" You asked in your normal tone of voice.

"Three," he said. "Three-ish?"

"Ah,"

"Mike, please." Abby begs, tugging her sluggish older brother by his sleeve as he stumbles hunched toward to level with her. Mike huffs, "Do I really need to be a prince? Why not a knight, or something cool?" he humors lightly. His eyes wash up at you, and he can't resist giggling at your costume made from scratch. It was impressive what Abby could make with her scrapes of material and tape. "No, she's the the knight." Abby pointed. Amused, you respond, "and a princess."

"And a princess." Abby adds, "And a witch!"

"Oh. So, I don't get any powers?" Mike says dryly, though there's a scrape of playfulness wrapped behind his blunt demeanour. He sat up and shut his eyes promptly for Abby to delicately place a cardboard mock crown on Mike's head. Abby smiled, before replying honestly, "That's because you're lame. Maybe next time you can be a princess, witch and knight."

"Goodie." Mike was obviously trying to drag a laugh out of you with his dramatic tone. You could see his eyes twinkled when it worked. There was a circle of stuffed animals and dolls, all clad in an organic costume made from Abby's workshop of a room.

"Okay, now we have a prince." She discarded the toy in her hand. "Now, you two can get married. And rule The Rabbit Kingdom."

"Married?" Mike knew it was pretend but his face flushed. "I didn't know that,"

"I am a princess, and you're the prince." You explained, almost toying with him. Mike chuckled, covering his face in light embarrassment.

"Yeah, Mike. Catch up." She cleared her throat. Mike was enjoying it much more than he thought he would. Maybe it was the idea of marrying you that sounded appealing, but that was ridiculous. He didn't love you. Did he?

Abby grabbed a floppy cat with buttoned eyes and calico patterns, making a deep voice. "I am the priest, and I say, that—we are gathered here today to see a prince and a princess get married. And, well . . ." She trailed off. "I don't know what a priest says, so. You're married!" She dropped the toy and tube together. Raising her hands out dramatically with a fun smile. "You can kiss now. Like couples do," she snickered.

You and Mike got close, giggling and awkwardly talking over each other as you tried to find a loophole. Mike swore his face was as hot as a furnace, and your stomach was twisted with butterflies caught in a trap. Abby broke the strange mental tango between you two, "You can hug if you want."

"Oh, right." You gazed at Abby, then back at Mike.

"Yeah, we can do that." He said. And so you did. Falling into a tight embrace for a couple seconds. Mike wanted to be longer, but he had errands. Plus, he doubt you'd stay long enough. Abby giggled, "You guys are husband and wife, now! Awesome." she looked around, eyes plotting something. She ran towards her room,"One second, I need to get something! Don't leave, Mike."

Yet, as soon as she disappeared. Mike stood up with a grunt, sighing. With a gentle smile, you gazed up at him. "Going so soon? We just got married."

"Very funny." Mike's cheeks flared as he removed the crown delicately and ran his fingers through his curls. He sighed and grabbed his wallet that was sitting longingly on the tabletop. "Tell her I got kidnapped by some monster or something, I'll think of a way to sneak in."

"Well, you got the right girl." You walked up to him, grabbing the door. "I am a warrior too."

"You're very in character." Mike hummed. "Is this going to be referenced often? Is it gonna be a thing?"

"Maybe, maybe not." You chuckled.

Once Mike had left his house. He felt an intense whirlwind of emotions. Romantic emotions. Loving feelings and sick stomach aches. Mike knew he wasn't a real prince, nor were you the ruler of some Bunny Palace but part of him was thinking of a life like that. Not with royalty or talking animals, but just you two. Married. The thought wasn't too strong, yet. But it kept him smiling when he was shopping. All the way through.

[yelenasdiary]

could you do a yelena royalty au?

yelena’s not the crown princess so her role in the royal family is to marry well and make connections with other influential families.

(nats already married to wanda (the second child of the sokovian royal family))

reader is either just a diplomats daughter and yelena isn’t allowed to marry her but falls in love when reader spends so much time at yelenas home, OR reader is from a very influential family and yelena is pushed to marry her even though she doesn’t want to marry anyone.

idk if you’ll find this interesting but i love the idea

One Day At A Time

Pairing: Princess! Yelena x Princess! Reader

Summary: Life for Yelena is changing as she is pushed to marry another princess from another royal family. 

Angst | Teeny Tiny Fluff | Forced Marriage | 1.3K | 

AC: This is my first royal AU! I hope you like this & I do apologise if the setting wasn’t that great! I am open to a part 2 of this, if you or somebody else has an idea! X

"Do not argue this Yelena! We need you to do this." Alexei spoke sternly, his wife Melina beside him nodding her head in agreement. "Natasha is married to Wanda, surely that I more than we need!" Yelena couldn't help but bit back at her father. 

Melina stood up from her chair before Alexei snapped in anger, "Yelena, take a walk with me" she insisted. The blonde rolled her eyes before following her mother down the hall and into the garden. 

"I know this isn't easy for you and you don't want to marry but sometimes in life, we have to do things we don't want to do. We don't do this out of hate, we do this to help. We want to leave you girls with everything you'll ever need and maybe one day you'll pass that onto children of your own" Melina spoke, earning yet another sigh from her youngest daughter. 

"I simply do not care to marry. I am happy with my life the way it is. Things might have been easier for father when it came to Natasha but she was already in love. You are asking me to marry somebody I have never met" Yelena explained. 

"You know, I never met your father either" the two walked through the garden at a calm pace, "I was forced to marry him to save his fathers kingdom" the brunette added. 

"But you seem so in love with him" Yelena frowned.

Melina chuckled, "over time, yes, I fell for him and his kindness. Then we took you girls in and I was glad I married him. I'm not saying it will be the same for you but family is the most important thing"

"You mean the kingdom is the most important thing" Yelena once again rolled her eyes. Melina stopped in her tracks and turned to Yelena, gently brushing her thumb over her daughter's cheek. "Do you remember when you were young and would play pretend with Natasha?" She asked. Yelena nodded, "that is all we are asking. Marry this princess & play your role as her wife when it sees fit. Other than that, you are free to do anything within reason" 

Yelena sighed heavily knowing there was no way out of the situation. "Fine, I'll do it" she said with defeat, her mother smiled softly and placed a kiss on her cheek "you're a good girl Yelena"

——

The wedding was a grand party for all who attended but Yelena and yourself. A few soft, friendly smiles shared between you both and a quick "I do" but neither of you seemed happy about the arrangement. Unlike Yelena, you had enough energy to smile and look like you were enjoying yourself, it wasn't the first time you had to attend an event you wished to avoid. 

To both of your relief, night came quickly and the wedding wrapped up eventually. You were staying 1 night at your wife's kingdom before the two of you would make the travel back to your kingdom. 

"You may take the bed" the Russian spoke, breaking the silence in her bedroom. It was the first time you heard her accent, it was thick but you liked it. 

"Oh, please, don't be silly. I'll take the settee" you replied. "This is your kingdom, your bed" you added. 

"You're my guest, it's only right for you to have the bed" 

"Wife..technically…we'd share the bed but I feel that both of us didn't like this arrangement. So to save an argument, I'll take the settee. When we return to my kingdom, we shall take turns. Does that seem fair?" 

The blonde didn't say a word in reply, she nodded before excusing herself to change into her night gown. 

You lay awake thinking of this new life your parents married you into. It was clear the woman you married was not a fan of you just as much as you were of her. 

"Did your father force you to marry as well?" Yelena's voice broke your train of thought. 

"Yes. I mean no offence by my answer, but I did not wish for this" you replied in a soft tone. 

"It's okay" you heard the woman sit up in her bed, "I didn't want to get married at all" she admits. You took the opportunity to sit up and face her for the late night conversation. Looking at her, she seemed different than before.

 "Do you not believe in love?" You asked. 

"I have no reason to believe that love is real" the blonde replied with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Love is all around you, your parents love you, your sister loves you" you reminded her. 

"That's not what I meant. Have you ever met your person? The one you would do anything for? How are we supposed to love freely now? We are in an arranged marriage, do you know how badly it would look if it was known that one of us was fooling with somebody else?" Frustration filled her voice, the same frustration you had expressed to your father when he told you that you'd be marrying somebody you'd never met. 

"No, but I believe that love comes unexpectedly, my parents married just like us but they found love in each other over time an-"

"If you think I'm going to fall in love with you over years of this joke of a marriage, you are wrong. I am happy on my own and I hope that you will understand that" Yelena snapped, interrupting you as she jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe before turning to you, "I will play the role of your wife when needed but I do not wish to know you outside of that" she added before leaving the room, the door slamming shut. 

----

The next day, the only time Yelena would talk to you was when others were around and when you were both alone, it was silent. She was mad but so were you, you just had a different way of dealing with it. The journey back to your kingdom was silent, only words were spoken to the guards that accompanied that two of you, Yelena could barely look at you and when she did, all you could see was anger. 

Once you both arrived at your kingdom, you requested that the guest room would be made up for your wife, explaining to your mother that you planned on doing things differently and that you wanted to give the Russian space and time to process things. 

"I thought you might find it a better fit if you had your own room" you spoke to her, breaking the almost endless silence between you two. Yelena finally looked at you for longer than a second, "You do not have to do anything that you don't want too. If you rather eat your meals alone, that is okay. You are free to make this your home as well, as hard as I know this is not your true home, I am glad to have you here" you added. 

"Thank you" she replied. You gave her a light nod, "if you need anything, I will be in my painting room" you turned to walk away. 

"You paint?" Yelena asked, stopping you from taking another step. You turned around to look at her once more, "I do, do you like art?" you questioned. 

"I also paint, sometimes" she replied with the smallest smile tugged at her lips. 

"Would you like to join me?" you asked. 

Yelena took a moment to think about it before nodding slightly, "sure" she spoke before following behind you. It may take some time but you hoped that with each passing day, Yelena would open up to you more and maybe a friendship could form.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | 

[ane-doodles]

What is the Becomes the Hunter AU?

It is the second AU created after CFP. Unfortunately it is also the one that I have drawn and developed the least, since what caught my attention the most was the idea instead of the story.

Still I recently made a remake of the beginnings of the lamb, so I hope you enjoy it:

Warning of a long rambling below

Basically it was born from the idea that the lamb was… Really a lamb, a child (approx 6-12 years old).

In this AU the lamb is captured along with its family and flock. Day after day he sees them disappear one by one, and although he doesn't really see them die, he knows what is happening. He stays with his mother until the last second until he inevitably ends up alone.

On the day of his sacrifice he is scared, crying without being able to pronounce a word…

When he dies he does not get up, the shock and fear make him kneel on the ground crying without understanding what is happening.

In the distance Narinder notices the presence of a soul in his domain. Hearing the sobs in the distance he sends the twins to find out what it is and bring it to his presence.

Aym and Baal find a boy kneeling on the ground shaking and crying his eyes out. Slowly approaching, they end up taking the little boy to his master, and it is at that moment that Narinder understands that the prophecy that will free him has begun… Although a little more different than he expected.

The lamb (whose name is Tao) remains in Narinder's domain for a long time basically growing under his care. He completely trusts the god of death who received him and cared for him and taught him to fight and defend himself, to the point where he blindly believes everything he tells him. He is extremely talkative and not very careful. He has grown up alongside Baal and Aym as role models.

Narinder on his own has no problem waiting a little longer for his vessel, and having the opportunity to "mold" him at such a young age is beneficial. Although everything starts with the intention of manipulating him, he inevitably ends up developing a certain affection for the little boy (in a more familiar sense, similar to what we have as headcanon with Aym, Baal and Narinder in which he has raised them).

Eventually the day comes, Tao (12 years old) receives his first and most important mission: to become Narinder's vessel and free him from his confinement.

When he reaches the mortal world again, so much time has passed after his death that the bishops have forgotten him and the world has forgotten his species. Tao finds the ground for the future cult and begins to prepare it on his own. Ratau is sent to help him when the lamb has trouble getting followers for the cult because well… It's hard to take seriously a child who invites you to join a cult in his name.

Slowly the cult grows. Tao defeats enemies but even though he has trained since his youth and is quite skilled, he is still a child which is why he dies quite often (think about playing on hard mode). Fortunately, each death means a visit to his new "family." Tao tries and overexerts himself to fulfill his mission and please Narinder, putting himself at risk and screwing up in order to obey the words of the god of death.

During this period he becomes friends with Ratau and Forneus, the two of them being the only ones who look after the boy's well-being during his crusades and his stay in the cult. By spending time with them, Tao feels in a warmer and more familiar environment.

Eventually (two years later) the mission comes to an end. The lamb is happy to have accomplished its task and is willing to return home to finish.

[Extra note that I didn't know where to put: during these years Narinder has begun to care for Tao more directly, giving him advice and guidance and comforting him when he needs it. He has simply come to love him.]

When Narinder asks for the crown back he orders Tao to also give up his life, as it is part of the ritual (his plan is that after restoring his powers he will resurrect the lamb and allow it to live in the cult along with him, but he never mentions it). in front of the child). Tao is perplexed and confused… The fear he felt at the beginning returns but this time it is combined with the rage of betrayal.

Tao fights, claiming how Narinder is equal to the other bishops who killed him and that he should never have trusted him. In a fit of rage, Tao throws the crown to the ground and destroys it, causing a collapse between the world of the living and the dead.

Tao wakes up in the middle of the forest, dazed and with a scratch-shaped scar on his chest. The rage within him continues to burn along with the desire for revenge when he learns that Narinder is alive and trapped in a mortal body, which is why he makes it his personal mission to hunt down the god of death.

On the other hand, Narinder (who did not actually attack the lamb but rather prevented it from being destroyed) is dedicated to escaping from his hunter and gathering the pieces of the crowns while at the same time looking for a way to explain what happened. it really happened.

……

Technically that is the story as such. Then there are the chases and so on.

Here are some extra details:

Tao knows that Forneus is Baal and Aym's mother from the beginning, which is why he ends up as a kind of messenger between both worlds for them.

Tao is especially good at sermons, having adopted mannerisms and a more formal way of speaking from Narinder, but his mischievous and impatient personality outside the temple has made it difficult to take him seriously.

Forneus and Ratau are kind of parents to Tao even though he doesn't really realize it. When Tao returns after destroying the crown, he is upset and it is the presence of these two that calms him down.

Although he is blinded by his desire for revenge, he is also still a child, which is why he is confused, sad and hurt. There are days when he doesn't feel like hunting and instead stays in a clearing in the middle of the forest to cry for a while.

The family-adoptive relationship between Tao and Narinder is mutual although they have not discussed it directly

Although Tao is angry with Narinder he doesn't really want to kill him

Even though Narinder is good with words, he really screwed up by not mentioning his plan to Tao.

Tao meets Baal and Aym on one of their forays into the forest. The three are looking for Narinder. Tao proposes that if they help him find him then he will take them to their mother who is waiting for them.

And that would be all! As an extra piece of information I would like to add that when I first drew Tao I loved his design but something caught my attention… That's when I realized that he looked like Narilamb's secret child in some way.