#shadows of the elevator au

[noorthestar]

she's missing someone again ...

[shadowsoftheelevatoraskandrp]

"" its so boring todayy .... ""

((PROTOTYPE IS OPEN FOR ASKS!))

[seidenbros]

I swear, the way I always write (in multi-chapter at least) Wesper thinking about kissing the other one, but not going through with it, once I get to the Hockey AU, Wylan is just gonna impulsively kiss Jesper.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday

You should have worn more lotion. 

The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind. 

It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it. 

To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in. 

You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.” 

Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.

“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”

Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently. 

“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door. 

“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude. 

Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety. 

“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.  

You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…” 

Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see. 

The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end. 

“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly. 

“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.” 

“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue. 

You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather. 

It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside. 

Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this? 

As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling. 

It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team. 

But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.

Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did. 

However, 

Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside. 

I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara. 

“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!” 

Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”

Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.” 

“Let me at least walk you to your desk–” 

“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.” 

Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly. 

Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded. 

He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety. 

“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.” 

“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.” 

The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum. 

He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?” 

Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.” 

“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.” 

Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.” 

Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?” 

“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.” 

This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.” 

Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.” 

“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?” 

“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.” 

Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?” 

“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.” 

There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not. 

But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company. 

You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you. 

“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash. 

Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!” 

His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed. 

You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously. 

His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity. 

But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at. 

What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room. 

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ I could never choose to love another (maybe one day I can learn to love you too). ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.7K

warnings: minor mentions of homophobia, emasculation (r! is forced to wear traditionally female garbs due to "tradition"), angst.

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

"You were born bluer than a butterfly, beautiful and so deprived of oxygen. Colder than your father's eyes — he never learned to sympathize with anyone."

"You were born reaching for your mother's hands. Victim of your father's plans to rule the world. Too afraid to step outside, paranoid and petrified of what you've heard."

authors note: (whisper chanting) wedding, wedding, wedding *song on repeat: BLUE by Billie Eilish

Black was the colour of elegance, formality, and misfortune.

It’s resolute. Existing in carefully filtered hues of shadows. The colour swallows up everything. A sharp contrast to everything it’s put besides. Your eyes are naturally drawn to it. Then, like everything in nature, the colour black has its equal.

White was a symbol of good fortune, and innocence.

Just as powerful in the way it both lifts other around it and yet becomes the most striking. A balance in their nature.

They’re unifying colours. Opposites but equal. A dichotomy that humans have found themselves philosophizing over. Yin and Yang, they were two fishes circling each other in the pond; they belonged together just as much as they seemed totally opposite of each other.

You suppose that’s why you’re wearing white for your wedding and Satoru, black. A binding of hands, families, fortune and misfortune.

A tradition of celebrating a union of equals.

A lifelong partnership.

It feels more like a sham to you.

This ceremony was unneeded and unnecessary. You’re sure a simple contract would’ve been more than enough. But, as great clans of sorcerers, traditions were not to be taken lightly and you were marrying into the Gojo Clan of Japan. This elevates you and your family’s social standing — finally being able to suckle at the teats of High Society and their riches without having to strain your necks and stick your tongue like a runt.

You will be Gojo (Y/N), husband to the most powerful sorcerer in your lifetime and you will be grateful and content. You will be taken care of. Never worry about anything because you will be just as untouchable as your other half.

Despite these “truths,” your heart feels so heavy you’re sure it has dropped to your stomach.

Like a frenzy of snakes, your intestines have wrapped themselves around your frantically beating heart; coiling and squeezing because this feeling has not left you the second Lady Gojo had come to discuss what alterations you needed to make for your wedding garbs.

Your breath hitches as your servants carefully tighten the obi around your waist. Your arms are outstretched as the servants busy themselves with tending to you. Those dolls you’ve seen your cousins play dress-up and make-believe with, you’re beginning to pity them. The hands are invasive as they worry about the way the fabric is falling and if there are any wrinkles in sight; your hair was kept neat and out of your face for the hard wig they were putting on, they do this after they painted your face with powders and colours.

The bags under your eyes concealed delicately and your lips pampered so there'd be no imperfections in sight.

All the while, they say nothing about the grimaces of discomfort on your face. Simply nodding in approval once satisfied. They tell you they’ll place another layer of cloth on you and you tell yourself that you’ve been through much worse.

But the second that weight settles, you can smell the incense they burned at your mother's funeral. It’s strange how one's brain can make these correlations. Bridging a memory completely unrelated to now and ruining it.

The smoke glides across your face and up your nose. The burn of them makes your eyes water. That smell — no amount of flowers could ever get rid of that burning smell.

“Young Master, do you need anything?” their voice surprises you enough for tears to fall. The servants gasp quietly, suddenly concerned at the state of you.

As if you’re a doll that had just come to life in the middle of play. This servant has the most unusual hair, inky black but in a way that’s obviously fake as it shines unnaturally blue under the sunlight. You wonder what their real hair colour is, so your watery eyes look at their eyebrows.

Stained, no giveaway to the truth.

Their voice was deep but also gave nothing away. A truly androgynous individual, with the most peculiar haircut. Blinking away the tears, you shake your head and turn away.

“No, I’m alright. Just overwhelmed, and excited,” you chuckle. “It’s my wedding day after all.”

They weren't convinced. Those coral coloured eyes seemed to ripple; as if a stone had been thrown into a calm lake. The servant turns and coldly announces for everyone to leave the room. Your older servants, your mothers, squared their shoulders.

"The young master should not be left alone on his wedding day," she begins. Her voice giving you a minute sense of comfort. She was a kind woman. Loyal to a fault. She cared for you the best she could, offering you her shoulder to weep on when she told you of your mothers sickness.

"You forget your place among us, young one."

The peculiar servant regards her with a placid expression. Yet, when she moves to approach you, they extend their hand out to the side to stop her.

You look between the two of them as they openly glared at each other. They lean in to her ears, hair slipping forward like a curtain, and they whisper. Whatever it is that they murmured makes her skin turn pale. She whips her head, gasping as she stares at them in horror.

Then, you were alone.

"What was that?" your voice was heavy with trepidation. The servant assures you with a polite smile. "My job is to ensure you are alright, Young Master. The room was beginning to get stuffy. Please, allow me to dress you myself."

Themselves?

It took three people in order to create the padding around your body. Essentially mummifying you in white so your shape was not distorted. Then another two servants assisted in your wrapping, securing the padding to your body and tying everything into place.

Like a proper bride.

It was emasculating. But the elders were already unamused by the binding of two men in matrimony — they demanded the wedding remained traditional. You found it hard to care, wanting to get this over and done with already.

The servant tilts your head up, gently pressing a cotton pad to your tear line and offering another smile. They smooth out what they can of your robe, getting behind you and quietly taking off the clips around the rim of your collar. It helps you breathe, if only a little, and your shoulders droop.

You suppose there isn't much else to be added onto your ensemble. But you appreciate the care they're putting in refining the hair accessories on your wig, using the flat sides of a rat tail comb to ensure the lace front was pressed neatly.

"...It feels like a helmet," you confess dryly. "It looks like one, doesn't it?" You gesture to your head.

"A pretty one," their reply makes you chuckle.

"They dress me up like this in order to humiliate me and my clan."

Your fingers curl into fists. They tilt their heads, regarding your fists with a glance then moving to your right to check the state of the lace.

"Do you feel humiliated?"

You twist your head, your expression now warped with simmering anger.

"I'm a man." You seethe.

"A beautiful one." They remind you. Not flinching at the subtle warmth your palms are emanating. "Why should you feel humiliated when you look as beautiful as the rising dawn? Don't do that."

They lean in and your breath hitches. You're so close you can tell they've combed through their lashes with mascara, feel the hardened brush of them on your cheek as they whisper in your ear.

"Don't give those rotting old bastards sorcerers the satisfaction of looking at the top of your head."

When they pull away, you feel like you can breathe again.

"I will be placing the wataboshi for you, Young Master."

You nod, the ache in your shoulders disappearing.

Wearing white is to symbolize your bride's willingness to be dyed in the grooms colours. Satoru thinks that's a bit of a dramatic description. It sounds more ominous than it does romantic.

He grunts as his servants tie the endless seams and cords. Folding it, smoothing it out — Satoru feels more like fresh dough being kneaded than he does a groom. The servants hasten their pace. He feels worn out. A vein on the side of his head pulsing as he reminds himself to unclench his jaw.

He can see himself in the reflection of the tri-fold mirror before him. He looks proper. Dressed in a black haori, with the striking white emblem of his clan on either fold.

Willingness to be dyed in his colours?

He sighs, furrowing his brows to keep his eyes hidden away. A servant asks if he needs anything, he waves their concerns away and tells them to continue.

"Are you sure if this is what you wish to do, Satoru?" his mother's voice echoes in his mind.

"I won't allow him to be humiliated further because of my actions. I have to be responsible. I have to marry him."

"You have to marry him?" she arches a brow his way, lifting the cup of tea to her lips as she watches him.

"You're mistaken, Satoru. The only one with power in deciding if this marriage is not the (L/N) Clan. It's us. It's you."

(Y/N)'s decisions do not matter. You accepted his dowry. Refused any other, is what she's telling him. The Gojo Clan's status is leagues above yours. If you refuse to marry him, Satoru can't imagine the ridicule you'll face. Your father — and his new bride — would cast you out.

It sickens him how weak you are. Your social standing is already so fickle, your clan just beginning to shake the fleas of the lower ringed trash from its fur. You deserve better than this.

You deserved choices.

He had never seen someone more devoted to sorcerer politics than you. You were a good son, a dutiful son.

Yet, your fate is in his hands. If he rejects your hand, you'll be humiliated. If he continues this path, he fears for your happiness. You'll be forever tainted by Satoru regardless of the choices he makes.

Forever dyed in his colours.

He flutters his eyes open, straightening his shoulders as the weight of the kimono reminds him of your red-rimmed eyes. The day of your mother's funeral, your hands healing him and washing him away from grime and filth while Suguru's marks were still so dark and blooming.

What a good husband you'd be.

He can't allow you to be shunned by your family, by sorcerer society.

He has to save you. He has to honour you. He has to.

Because he loves you. He has to.

He has to.

For you.

He'd do this for you.

Satoru looked handsome. You can barely seen him from underneath the hood, keeping your gaze ahead at the back of a shrine servant's head as he leads both you and your soon-to-be-husband towards the shrine.

It rained a little earlier, the sky was no longer gloomy so it provided the scenery with a shimmering quality. The leaves of the old ginkos tree decorating the grounds with its golden and orange leaves; every sway of its branches speckling light onto the puddles of rainwater which makes it shine like a gem.

The servant with the peculiar hair, they held a red umbrella over both you and Satoru's hair as your procession continues.

"You look beautiful," Satoru says. You eyes widen. In all the hubbub, the chaos after your mother's funeral, your father's marriage, preparing for your own, missions slipped between here and there. You'd forgotten this side of Satoru.

This unabashed mouth of his. With that sharp curl and those perfect teeth and blushed lips. His voice sounds so light despite the heavy cloud that'd been lingering over your heads.

The Star Plasma Incident, Geto Suguru's betrayal, your marriage.

Your refuse to let your eyes water. If Satoru can be this strong, then you will be just as strong as he is.

"I'm sure you do to," he turns his head. Not that you can see it. Hence, the joke. Satoru smiles your way and you're glad this hood protects you from more than just wind, dust, and dirt. Because the sight of his smile would make your palms clammy and your heart flutter.

It gives you too much hope. It is your wedding day. Most would say hoping wouldn't be too egregious. You'll be performing your marriage before the shrine gods after all, praying to them for happiness and wealth in your future with your husband.

Satoru reaches for you, slipping his black sleeves through the divot of your elbow and steadying you as you climb the steps. From behind you, your step-mother awws at the display.

You're sure Lady Gojo is curling her nose at her voice behind her handheld fan. This fills you with a little vicious delight.

The gods should hate you for this, but you swallow down that guilt as Satoru hitches you closer.

You enter the Pavilion, admiring the architecture and care of the shrine masters and maidens. You feel hope building in your chest. Despite your best efforts, it begins to lift its head. This shrine has seen so many marriages. Such as the marriage of Satoru's own parents, and his parent's parents.

Despite being arranged, despite being loveless in the beginning, they seemed happy.

Your wedding robes descend on your shoulders again and the scent of incense wafts up your nose.

Your mother's final breath echoes in your ears.

You feel your throat close up.

The priest is announcing to the gods of your marriage with Satoru and all you can feel is nausea. He stands next to you and your head is held high, the elders and higher ups watch from the sides and you hope they can't see the way your mouth presses into a thin line.

Satoru is wearing black. He wore black to the funeral too and your mother, white. Your brain does that thing again — making correlations out of thin air.

You are not not a walking corpse. Satoru was not a man grieving. You are both getting married. You are supposed to celebrate. This is not a funeral. This is not an unfortunate event.

The shrine maiden before you offers Satoru a sakazuki dish filled with sake.

This ritual feels mocking. Satoru doesn't even enjoy drinking. His taste buds were akin to a child's. He prefers sweets, sometimes you marvel at how he hasn't gotten a cavity. So you wonder how his face is like when he takes his sips — despite the eyes on you, you turn to see.

He does not grimace. Not even a twitch in his brows. He takes one sip, the second, then finishes the sake.

His mother had told you that the first sip is to show appreciation to the heavens above and for their ancestors. The shrine maidens hands you a cup and you carefully hold it in your hands.

Fuck your ancestors. What have they ever given you?

Still, you bring the rim of the dish to your lips and take two sips, tipping the cup for the final one.

The second set of cups are supposed to symbolize you. The couple. It's a vow for you to care for each other for as long as you live.

Satoru's lips press over the edge, he drinks and drinks and drinks. He does not grimace, he does not falter. He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly as he hands the maiden his cup.

You watch. Entranced. Hoping to see a frown, a sign that he does not want this.

You take your cup and drink.

The third is meant for fertility. Both you and Satoru drink, ignoring the curl of the elders lips or the disdain in the others.

Fuck them, the both of you thought together.

You're offered a wooden comb and carefully wrap it in cloth before holding it between your palms, holding your pressed thumbs to your chest as you pray.

It is Satoru's turn to watch. He can see your lashes across your cheeks, the colour painted on your lips glimmering like the rain droplets on those golden leaves.

You were breathtaking.

When you stepped out of the car, he knew the old fucks were expecting a good laugh. Seeing you dressed in bridal garbs, with a veil, makeup and effeminate — they did not laugh. They drank you in, eyes widening at your beauty. It fueled Satoru with pride.

You're turning, Satoru blinks for a moment but turns to face you as well. You hold it between your palms and he cups his hands over yours. His large hands covering yours as he accepts the comb in front of the attendees.

This is a symbol of his determination, of his willingness, to make this marriage work.

He connects his gaze with yours and your lips finally part to allow you to breathe. He nods and your finger twitches for a moment but you give him the comb.

He then turns to offer it to the gods.

The sun is beginning to shine, clouds blowing away as you continue the next part; the reading of the vows to the gods.

He unravels the scroll, offering you the other end and you press your shoulders together as you both held it.

He reads;

"On this great day, before the Great Gods, we are wed. We are eternally grateful for this blessed ceremony. From today, we vow to love each other, to trust one another, to be there for each other for the good times and the bad; we promise that this will stay unchanged throughout our lifetime."

He reads out today's date. He reads out his title as your husband, then his name, and you swallow your nausea as you read out your title as his husband, then your name. You help him fold the paper back, hoping he didn't see how your hands tremble.

The shrine maidens come to your sides with a sprig of leaves. You both take it, hold the stem to between your fingers and the leaves to your head. Lady Gojo had told you this sprig would carry your thoughts and prayers through the end to the gods.

You hope they do not hear your cynical thoughts, your fears, your anxieties; you hope they can only feel the little bits of hope for happiness you're desperately wishing for.

Finally, finally, comes the exchanging of wedding bands.

Satoru's eyes softened as you slip his on. It's beautiful, intricate up close and simple from afar. The gem in the centre twinkling shyly under his gaze. You can't help but smile as he holds your hand in his, preciously slipping on your ring.

The silver glinting under the sun, as did the gem embedded in it. It was your favourite colour. He remembered.

The shrine maidens disperse, pouring sake into the cups of the guests and the both of you tenderly hold each others hands as you finally face them.

Gojo's parents watch on proudly, your father looked smug, his wife weepy as she blinks up at the heavens.

"Congratulations!"

They cheer, downing the sake, in celebration for your union and to Satoru's ascension as head of his clan.

You've done it, son. You imagine that's what your fathers expression is trying to convey. A well done nod sent your way.

You slip your fingers loose from Satoru.

"I know you're watching," Satoru grumbles as he slips his sunglasses on. The wedding was still ongoing, families dining together, and he excused himself for some fresh air while you changed into a more comfortable kimono.

"I felt it from the goddamn entrance of the shrine."

"He looked gorgeous," Suguru speaks from behind the body of a tree, twisting a gold leaf in between his fingers. "He's always been handsome, did those old fucks think putting him in white would be funny?"

Satoru does not answer. He simply stares at Suguru and yet, his wedding ring burns. He brings his gaze to it, flexing his fingers in an attempt to get rid of the phantom sensation.

"You here to give a wedding gift?" Satoru asks. Suguru turns and smiles. He had put his hair in a half-up-half-down hairdo. It suited him. A lot.

"Your hairs' gotten longer," Satoru's cheek twitch as the ring warms again. Suguru just offers a laugh, reaching into his robe and pulling out an envelope. He offers it to Satoru, who stares down at it.

"You actually gave us a wedding gift?" Satoru scoffs. Not yet reaching for it.

"It'd be rude of me not to."

"...Keep it."

Satoru tells a servant to speak from behind the sliding doors, effectively making them squeak in alarm as she stutters out that you're ready to step back into the fray.

"I'll be there shortly."

"Mah, Satoru — "

"Don't." He snaps out, glaring at Suguru.

"Don't." He says, softly now.

Suguru's eyes widen, his hurt evident as he gazes up at him.

"I'm sure your new church will need the money more than we do."

They say nothing to each other. Satoru turns to head back inside. Suguru's hands fall.

He hopes the Gods do not see this. He hopes the Gods can't hear how fast his heart is beating and how it breaks as he slides the doors close.

Satoru walks in just as you do. This kimono is less heavy, you move with a lightness in your step and no longer in stark white but instead in a gorgeous blue. The fabric dyed a darker colour at the ends to balance out the bright hues — the colour of your skin harmonizing the colours together just like your hair.

You looked at him, brows pinching at the sight of his sunglasses.

"Are you in pain?"

He should ask you that, shouldn't he?

After all you've been through, he should ask if you were hurt.

He shakes his head, smiling as he takes them off.

You're stronger then that. Pitying you, babying you, reopening the wounds you have — there was no need for that. You were his husband now, he will bare your burdens together. As he vowed to do in front of the gods.

He slips his arm through yours.

"Never. Not with you by my side, beloved."

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring how hot your cheeks feel at his lame attempt.

Maybe...maybe this could work, you tell yourself. Today went by so smoothly, it must be a sign.

Maybe you can be happy.

[peachesofteal]

Dr.Riley’s getting attached. I can see him cancelling his day and slipping out of the back, wanting to make sure Clover gets home in one piece.

psych au - 18+ - tw for mental health, alcohol, ptsd, psych hold, references to suicidal ideation, psychologist Simon Riley losing his grip. Note: where I live, an M1 is a 72 hour psych hold. So that’s how I wrote this. Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

It's not crossing a boundary, it's just taking care of her.

He repeats it over and over in his head, slinking a block behind you in the shadows. Old practices, tactical operations and operating procedures revive in his blood, his steps turning silent, ghostly.

This is fine.

It's not. He knows it. His education, his license, his practice, they're all at risk now. The work he's put in over the years, threatened by your existence. And yet-

He can't stop thinking about you. Like an illness, a cold, ice filling his chest, he can't shake you.

He's this close to putting you on a seventy two hour hold. He could see it in your eyes today, the agony, the decay of your will to keep trying, keep living. You didn't say it out right, but he knows.

He's been there. He recognizes it.

He wants to know how much you're drinking. The rule of thumb is usually what the patient says times three, maybe four, but with you it's hard to tell. Alcohol will only push you to the bottom of your will to live faster, an old rusted chain wrapped around your ankle, attached to an anchor at the bottom.

It's the first time he's hesitated putting someone on an M1. You're not a danger to others, sure. But to yourself? You're lethal.

This is how he convinces himself to follow you home.

Your building is nice. There's a lobby, an elevator, and the floor has been recently waxed, shiny with something reminiscent of chemical and lemon peel. The front door is secure, which gives him a sliver of relief, though it wasn't a challenge for him to get it open.

It would be for others though.

He's not surprised to see your door is bare. No welcome mat, no wreath, not even a door knocker, like everyone else's. Its bare bones, as he expected, not really a home, just a place you come and go.

He should stop.

Instead, his fist bangs against the door on its own accord.

Your eyes are wide when it swings open, fingers curled around the knob in a death grip. You’re a little off balance, tipping against the frame, and he chalks it up to the surprise. “Dr. Riley?”

“I- I needed to follow up with you.” Your mouth tugs into a frown, confusion flickering across your face. You’re in a ratty t shirt, sweatpants, and you look so damn tired.

“You make house calls now?” Fuck.

“I’m concerned.” He’s scrambling, trying to tug free some words that will make this make sense, something that will make this situation professional in any capacity. “Needed to make sure you got home. You said you weren’t feeling well, remember?”

“Oh. Right. I um, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” He peeks around your shoulder. Your apartment is mostly bare, a shell of a home, a place you sleep between missions, he’s sure.

You shiver, and hiccup. His eyes narrow. “Have you been drinking?”

“N-no.” He leans in, pinching your jaw between his fingers and forcing your face upwards to his. This close, he can see the dilation in your pupils, your struggle to focus, but most importantly, he can smell your breath.

Whiskey.

Well, that’s it then.

“Go sit down,” he orders, turning you into the apartment and forcing you over to the couch. “This is over.”

“What’s over?”

“This. ‘m not going to let you self destruct, or die.” He sends a text discreetly, glancing back at the screen when he gets an affirmative.

“What’re you doing to do? Babysit me?” You scoff, but he shakes his head.

“You need help, Clover.” He keeps his voice soft, as soft as he can manage so to not spook you, like you’re a scared animal caught in his path.

“I’m fine.” Your hands are trembling, but you maintain the facade, and he only shakes his head. He needs a distraction, something to eat the time with.

“Let’s talk for a bit.”

When the knock and the door comes, your breath catches. “Who is that?”

“Clover,” he says gently, “we’re going to get you help.” He opens the door to reveal the paramedics, and your face falls.

You know. He knows you know.

“No,” you back away, your head shaking back and forth. “No, you- you can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,” your lower lip trembles, and he approaches slowly, palms out. “Please.” You’re panting, sweating, eyes wild, snapping to the door. He steps in front of your gaze, holding a hand up to the medics, telling them to stop their advance. If he can get through to you he can make this easier, less traumatizing, less terrifying.

“If you run, I will catch you.” He warns sternly, and you gulp.

“Dr. Riley, please.” You’re pleading, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. It burns in his heart, agony ripping through him.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise.” A syringe is passed to the hand behind his back, and he pops the cap off when you’re looking away.

“You can’t do this- please don’t do this to me.”

“Clover, I can’t trust that you won’t hurt yourself baby.” Baby. It slips out and he bites his tongue. “This is for you, and I know you don’t know that right now-“

“NO!” You scream, hands balled at your side. “I’m n-not going, I won’t go. You c-can’t make me.”

“I can. You know I can. I want to come with us willingly, okay? I don’t want to sedate you.” You’re terrified now, still backing away, panicking when your back collides with the wall. You pivot towards the door your bedroom, springing into a leap, but he’s faster, snatching you around your waist and dragging you backwards.

“No! STOP, nonono-“ you kick your feet, twisting, thrashing, trying to knock the back of your head into his nose as he curls around you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers it against your ear-

And plunges the syringe into your arm.

[onlyseokmins]

ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.    

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.    

Cold.    

Lonely.    

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.    

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged. 

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage. 

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge. 

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present. 

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes." 

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand. 

Was that love? 

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice. 

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes." 

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed. 

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption. 

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his. 

And still, he waits. 

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?" 

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright." 

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too." 

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to." 

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself. 

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him. 

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips 

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

[lilacmingi]

HYENA (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Hyena hybrid!Wooyoung x fem reader

Word count: 4,025

Note: I had to make Wooyo the hyenas because of his high-pitched, squeaky laugh lol

Your feet wobbled slightly as you stepped over chunky rocks. Clacking sounds followed after as some were knocked loose by your steps. You took a trip out to the desert to do some exploring, wanting to try something new and different for once, as well as check out a place you had never been to.

You had rented a Land Rover to get around in and were told to stay on a path which was marked by stakes in the ground. You were a fairly good navigator and the instructions were simple, so you weren't worried about getting lost. Plus, it's not like you were gonna go exploring places far off from the path.

The desert was exactly what you expected it to be—deserted. Which, in all honesty, was perfectly fine with you. The last thing you wanted was to run into some animal. You were really only out there to look at the scenery and take photos.

You made it to a slightly higher elevation where you spotted a cave somewhere in the distance, your interest immediately piqued. The main thing that interested you was where this cave was situated. The cavern was located near the ground, seeming almost like a burrow, but with cavelike characteristics; a large rock above the opening and messily clustered along the top and around the entrance of the cavern. Your curiosity got the best of you as you traipsed down the rocky hillside and onto the dusty dirt ground. You moved over to the opening of the cave and peered inside curiously. The opening was large enough for a person to walk in, which was odd.

You stepped inside, nearly slipping on the dirt as the ground sloped downward.

"Incredible." You murmured as you gazed around at the large amount of space inside.

A faint noise caught your attention, pulling your focus away from the well-constructed burrow. You furrowed your brows, unconsciously moving ahead.

The sound of cackling could be heard from somewhere within the cave. As it got louder, it sounded almost hyena-like. The ominous sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Thinking you walked right into some animal's home, you began moving back towards the entrance, keeping your eyes on the endless abyss where the laughter emitted from.

"Well, well, well, look what walked into my cave."

The voice startled you.

Was there a person living in the cave?

"Wh-Who's there?" You stuttered out, taking another step backwards.

A silhouette appeared in the shadows, slowly moving closer. The first thing you saw were bright, yellow irises, staring at you like a piece of meat. The sight was unsettling but it's not what really disturbed you—what really disturbed you were the ears on top of his head and the sharp canines in his mouth. The hybrid grinned wickedly at you as he slinked closer, his claws dragging along the cave wall making a eerie scraping sound that made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I didn't mean to trespass. I didn't know anyone lived here." You apologized, backing away.

"Do you see open caves and go inside as you please?" The man... animal, asked.

"I didn't think anyone lived here." You said, taking a few steps back.

"Why are you trying to run away?"

You couldn't think of an answer.

"Don't worry. I don't bite... hard." His voice was silken, but threatening, as there was an ominous undertone to his words.

You stumbled back into a corner, trying to get away, only to have the hybrid trap you between his arms. His head tilted to the side, his gold irises scanning you before he brought his face close to yours.

"How lucky am I?" He grinned, showing off a pair of sharp canines. "A delicious meal walking right into my cave."

"W-what?" You stuttered, your eyes unable to look away from the hyena's sharp fangs protruding from both his top and bottom rows of teeth.

He ignored you, leaning down to your neck, inhaling deeply, a short, guttural and animalistic growl rumbling in his throat.

"You smell delectable. I could just eat you up."

Your eyes instinctively screwed shut. If you were about to meet your demise, you didn't want the last thing you saw to be razor sharp teeth. His hot breath fanned against your neck as he moved even closer. You trembled, preparing to feel his long fangs dig into your flesh.

"But I won't." He added. "That would be such a waste. After all, a pretty girl like you deserves to be saved."

Your eyes flew open in both shock and fear. Shock, because your life was going to be spared. Fear, because you weren't sure what he was going to do with you.

He brought one of his clawed hands to your chin, holding it between his fingers as he tilted your face up.

Out of pure instinct, you pushed him as hard as you could away from you. To your shock, he stumbled back, hitting the dirt wall on the opposite side of the cavern, staggering slightly. You didn't think you pushed him that hard, but based on the way his jacket was flung off one shoulder by the impact, you'd say you shoved him a lot harder than you assumed.

That's when you noticed his thin figure. Even though he was clad in leather and fur, you could still see how slender he was. He regained his footing and adjusted his jacket, dusting his vest off as he glared at you, his eyes almost glowing with rage. Despite that, all you could think about was his slender figure. Though he was a hybrid, he was still part human. A real person.

"You seem a little underweight." You commented aloud.

He ran his hands through his black and blonde hair out of annoyance. "It's not exactly easy to find food out here, you know." He grumbled, his jaw clenched. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is deserted."

An idea suddenly popped into your head. One that would possibly save your life.

"What if I made you a deal?"

"A deal?" He scoffed. "What could you possibly offer me?"

"Food."

"I'm not interested in granola bars and trail mix, okay?"

"No, I mean a real meal."

"In exchange for what?"

"You letting me go."

"Elaborate."

"Come back to town with me and I'll treat you to a nice meal. Anything you want."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to go into town around people?"

"We'll be eating in my hotel room. It's safer that way."

He stared at you for a few moments, visibly considering his options. Then, he nodded. "Alright. Deal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?" He shrugged.

"Great! Follow me." Your tone was unusually peppy, and rightfully so. You quite literally just bargained your way out of being held captive.

The hybrid followed you to the Land Rover you rented, keeping a close eye on you. Though you seemed friendly, he didn't completely trust you yet. If you show any sign of untrustworthiness even once, he would rip you to shreds... maybe. He was so confused. His instincts told him that you were food and he was in desperate need of sustenance, however, his heart squeezed a little at the thought of hurting you.

"Come on." You beckoned after getting inside the car.

He shook away his thoughts and climbed inside, situating himself in the passenger seat as you started the engine, hearing it roar to life.

"I see these things going up and down this path all the time. I've always wondered what it would be like to ride in one." The hyena commented aloud.

He tried holding back his excitement, but you could see it in his eyes.

"Well, now you get to find out." You smiled, driving down the dirt road. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Wooyoung."

"I'm Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated. "Can this thing go any faster?"

"It sure can." You punched the gas, causing the vehicle to jerk forward before zooming down the path.

The engine thrummed loudly in response to the sudden speed change. The road was straight, allowing you the freedom to do such thrilling things.

You took a moment to glance over at Wooyoung, noticing how he leaned forward in his seat, his hands gripping onto the dashboard. To your surprise, a joyful laugh left him. Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention back to the road.

Wooyoung watched as rocks and trees whizzed by, the warm wind blowing through his hair. It was so liberating and nothing like he'd ever experienced.

Unadulterated joy began bubbling up inside the hybrid and before he could stop it, laughter began spilling out of him. High pitched, hyena-like cackles escaped him without any warning, a bright smile on his face.

The sight was almost heartwarming. A "feral" hybrid like him laughing and having fun was unheard of. You had to remind yourself that the man beside you could was still part hyena and could attack at any given moment.

You returned back to your hotel, leading Wooyoung inside. You got some odd stares from passersby on the street as well as hotel staff, but you paid no mind to it—or tried to, at least. You knew seeing a feral hybrid out in civilization was probably startling to some people.

Once you were back in your hotel room and away from prying eyes, you felt like you could relax a little.

"Alright." You started, grabbing the room service menu. "Here. Pick whatever you want."

He took the menu, glancing down at it. Your eyes lingered on his long claws as he browsed the dishes.

It wasn't long until he chose what he wanted. You chose something for yourself and placed the order.

"It'll be about 20 minutes. You can get a shower while you wait. If you want to."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"No! Not at all." You shook your head. "I just assumed since—"

"Don't try to domesticate me." He snapped, cutting you off.

You backed off, muttering an apology.

The 20 minute wait felt like an eternity. Wooyoung stood in the corner of the hotel room while you sat on the bed. The atmosphere in the room was tense and had you feeling on edge. Relief flooded you when there was a knock on the room's door followed by, "Room service!"

"Oh, good. The food's here." You stood up from the bed, answering the door.

When you brought the food into the room, Wooyoung straightened up, his eyes widening slightly in interest. He sniffed the air a few times before moving closer.

"Come on. You can sit down." You gestured to the desk, placing his food down.

You took a seat on the end of your bed, watching the hybrid. He stared at the utensils for a moment before grabbing the fork, stabbing the thick piece of steak with it. You started to interject and tell him that he could use his knife, but decided against it, allowing him to eat as he pleased.

He began gnawing on the steak, his sharp canines piercing the meat. You could tell he hadn't eaten in quite some time. After a few moments, you looked away and started eating your own food.

"I've never had anything like this before." He commented, mouth full of steak. "It's so good."

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "I'm glad you like it."

Once the two of you finished eating, you took notice of how late it had gotten. You were supposed to take Wooyoung back to his den after you fed him.

"It's almost dark. I don't think I can get you back in time." You told the hybrid.

"But you are taking me back, right?"

"Yes, of course. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow. You'll have to stay the night here."

"You want me to sleep in a bed?"

"Well, yes." You responded.

"Whatever." He muttered.

You tried to look past his snappy behavior and went to get the pullout couch ready. The room you rented was a normal hotel room with a bathroom, one bed, a pullout sofa, an office desk, TV, microwave, and mini fridge. Nothing special, but equipped with all the necessities.

"Here you go." You gestured.

Wooyoung took a seat, testing out the little mattress before lying down, not bothering to get under the sheets. You left the room to change into your pajamas and prepare for bed. When you returned, Wooyoung was still lying in the same spot, his golden-colored irises watching your every move. His eyes followed you as you walked across the small room over to your bed, slipping under the covers.

"I'm not gonna do anything." You told him.

"I don't know that."

You let out a sigh. "Goodnight, Wooyoung."

You clicked off the bedside lamp and laid down, pulling the covers up over you.

It took you a while to get to sleep, as you were a bit nervous sharing a room with a hyena hybrid. Part of you trusted him, thinking that he was just a lonely person, but the other half of you had to remind yourself that he was a feral and would attack you if necessary.

You rolled over in bed, the sun seeping in through the hotel room curtains. You stretched your limbs, turning to check on Wooyoung, not expecting the sight that met your eyes.

The hybrid was lying on his stomach and his face was squished against the pillow, small snores leaving him as he snoozed away. His ear twitched in his sleep, causing you to let out a quiet chuckle. He looked so peaceful and docile. You wanted so badly to squish his cheeks and give him a gentle kiss on the nose, but fought the urge to do so.

Just then, Wooyoung's eyes snapped open, staring directly at you.

"Good morning." You greeted him.

He quickly pushed himself up, seeming a bit frantic. Once he realized everything was fine, he relaxed.

"Well." You started, sitting upright. "I'm gonna get ready. It won't take long."

Wooyoung's eyes followed you as you went to your suitcase, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and going into the bathroom.

His heart felt heavy at the thought of being sent back home. Though he was still on edge around you, something in his chest tightened at the thought of separating from you.

The rental Land Rover came to a stop on the dirt road near the hyena's burrow. You put the car in park and turned to Wooyoung.

"Here we are." You announced.

As much as you didn't want him to leave, you knew he most likely wanted to go back to his den. And you wanted to kept your word. You only promised him a meal, nothing more.

You turned to Wooyoung who stayed in the passenger seat for a moment, staring out in the distance where his den was.

"Thanks for keeping your end of the deal." He told you.

"You're welcome."

He reluctantly got out of the car, walking towards his cave.

You weren't sure what to say. See you around? That would be stupid. You were going home in a couple days. You wouldn't see him.

"Well, goodbye." You finally spoke, putting the vehicle in drive.

"Wait." Wooyoung called out.

You paused, moving the gear shift into park.

"Yes?"

"I feel like I owe you." He told you.

"What? No. You promised to let me go and I promised to give you a nice meal. We're even."

"I still feel like I owe you. There's some nice places the tourists never show. Would you like to see them?"

The offer was nice and he seemed pretty set on making things up to you, so you agreed.

"Hop in." You gestured to the passenger seat.

Wooyoung took his place back in the seat and you took off, letting him lead the way.

The first place he showed you took a while to get to, but once you arrived, it was well worth your time. It was a vast stretch of land dotted with trees. A small herd of zebras stood around a small reservoir having a drink of water. You gasped in awe, pulling your camera out to snap a few photos.

"I haven't seen any animals around since I showed up here. I mainly came here for the scenery, but this is really nice."

"You have to go a little further to get to the good spots." Wooyoung told you.

"This is awesome." You marveled, stepping closer, taking more photos.

You stayed for a while until Wooyoung directed you to the next location. Each place he showed you was stunning. You were able to see all sorts of animals and get fairly close to some. It took a bit of driving to get to these places and sometimes you would have to get out of the car and walk, but you didn't mind. It was all well worth it.

The two of you sat on a large rock, watching a group of elephants walk across the long stretch of land.

"How do you know about all these places?" You asked.

"I get bored and tend to wander around."

"It must be lonely out here."

"Sometimes." He responded, his eyes staring out in the distance.

You were saddened by his response. You can't imagine what it's like to be out in the desert alone. You wanted to ask more, but he looked a little uncomfortable, so you changed the subject.

"Can I touch your claws?" You asked.

It's something you had been wanting to do. You had never encountered a hybrid with claws before so, naturally, you were intrigued.

He seemed amused by that question, letting out a chuckle. "Sure."

You took his hand, staring at his long, sharp nails. Your fingertips gently touched the end of his claws, feeling the sharp points of them.

Wooyoung watched you as you examined his hand, looking intently at his nails. The feeling of your fingertips running over his fingers and hand had him feeling extremely flustered.

He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away, unable to endure it any more.

"Come over here." He gestured, hopping off the rock he was perched on.

You followed behind as the both of you waded through the knee-high grass. He came to a stop at a hillside that overlooked a large part of the desert.

"Wow." You gaped. "This view is stunning."

"It is." Wooyoung smiled, softly.

You moved to stand under a tree, the shade giving you some relief from the heat of the sun's harsh rays. The warm breeze blew through your hair, helping to cool you off a bit.

You snapped a few photos of the scenery, wanting to remember it exactly as it is. You stayed and admired the view for quite some time before before heading back the way you came.

The two of you trekked through the grass, making on your way back to the vehicle. Just as you saw the Land Rover come into view, a low growl emitted from somewhere behind you. You spun around, a gasp leaving you at the horrifying sight; a dark, maroon-toned lion with a dark mane and a nasty scar over his eye slinked through the grass, his amber irises locked on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you took a step back.

Wooyoung's top lip curled back in a snarl as he pulled you behind him, keeping one arm protectively in front of you, shielding you from the predator prowling just mere feet away. The lion didn't seem to want to back down. Wooyoung bravely stepped closer, his claws ready to pierce into the animal as soon as it decided to attack.

You watched over Wooyoung's shoulder as the lion growled, taking a step forward. The hyena hybrid in front of you let out a menacing and threatening growl that rumbled in the back of his throat, warning the animal that if he got closer, it wouldn't be good.

The lion seemed to back off after that. For good measure, Wooyoung moved closer to the beast letting out an animalistic snarl as he bared his fangs. The lion gave an angry roar before turning away, leaving the two of you alone.

Your shoulders sagged in relief as Wooyoung turned towards you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, cupping your cheeks between his hands.

"Just a little shaken up, but I'll be fine." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You reassured him. "The sun is about to go down. I should get you back to your cave and head back to the hotel."

"But you're gonna miss the best part."

"What do you mean?"

"The stars."

"The stars?" You repeated.

"Yeah. I know a really good spot for stargazing. We'll have a great view."

The sun set and you found yourself sitting on the hood of your rental car which was parked off the trail and out in the middle of a grassy area. A myriad of stars hung in the sky above, standing out against the dark blanket that cloaked the atmosphere. Every once in a while, one of the stars would twinkle slightly, flickering for just a moment.

"Thanks for not eating me." You spoke up, cutting through the comfortable silence.

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle. "You're welcome, but I wouldn't have done it, anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why not? Did you think I'd taste bad?" You joked.

"No. It's not that." He shook his head. "I just couldn't do it. You looked too innocent."

You weren't sure if you should be flattered or insulted. Either way, your life was spared, and for that you were thankful.

"Well, that's reassuring. I think." You chuckled.

"Sorry. That came out wrong." He let out a sigh, frustrated about something that you weren't aware of.

"Are you alright?"

"No." He groaned. "My mind is a mess right now."

"Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind, then? It doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense. Just talk it out." You told him.

"Alright. For starters, I had a really good time. These past two days have been amazing and honestly, I don't really wanna go back to my regular life. The thought of it kinda scares me."

Your brows raised slightly in surprise. You kept your composure, but on the inside you were freaking out. This whole time you'd been worried about leaving him to return to his normal life and come to find out, he didn't want to go back. You two were on the same page.

"I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't be attached to you. I shouldn't want to leave my den. I'm a feral hybrid—a wild animal. I'm not supposed to be feeling these things, but I do." He confessed.

"Wooyoung, would you like to come home with me?" You asked.

He seemed caught off guard by your offer.

"You can come live with me. I have an extra room. It'll be different from the life you're used to, but the offer is there if you want it."

"Yes." He answered immediately. "I do."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. After experiencing life away from the desert, I realize that's the life I want. Plus, everything is so much better, especially the food. The bed was nice too."

"That was just a pullout. Wait until you sleep in a real bed."

Wooyoung's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement after hearing that.

"Come on." You beckoned. "Let's head back to the hotel. I'll let you sleep in the big bed tonight." You slid off the hood of the car, Wooyoung following behind.

"Can we share the bed?" He asked, timidly as he got into the passenger seat.

"Only if you shower."

"Do I smell?" He questioned with a pout.

"No, but you've been living out in the wild and I think you should clean up before crawling into a clean bed."

"That's fair." He shrugged.

"Then it's settled." You gave a nod of finality before driving back the way you came.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[ink-n-shadow]

Omg I am so head over heels for your bodyguard!simon AU ;w;

Nah because with my sensitive ass the “M’ not touching you again” would instantly make me sad like SO fast :’3

so, how would he react if she got all pouty because he said that? Because in all actuality she definitely wants him to touch her more often, yknow? Like it ain’t even gotta be sexual…probably-

🍋-

i like the way you think, anon🍋 >:) this one's not sexual (unfortunately) BUT it is cute and a bit angsty so enjoy

CRYBABY

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're drunk and bodyguard!ghost has to comfort you

𝜗𝜚 pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!reader (link to all works in this au) 𝜗𝜚 cw: mean!ghost at first, then soft!ghost, crying for something small, drunk!reader

"what did i say when you were on vacation last month, hmm?" ghost grumbled as he lead you through the lobby of your apartment building, keeping a grip on your upper arm. "m'not. fucking. touching you like that."

you had gone out with the rest of your bandmates, having a few drinks (way more than you needed) to celebrate the upcoming release of your first album. you weren't completely wasted, but you were damn close—your face flushed, steps a bit wobbly, eyes bleary.

ghost kept as much distance between you two as he could, but he knew he had to help you walk. so he gripped your upper arm to steady your steps, walking slow enough to help you keep pace with him. he glared down at you, but when he noticed the pout on your face and the tears beginning to form in your eyes, his eyes softened.

it wasn't the usual bratty pout you'd use—no, this one appeared legitimately sad.

"y-you're so mean, ghost. i just—" your sentence paused in the middle as a hiccuped sob shook your chest, your free hand coming up to wipe at the tears and smearing some mascara down your cheek. "i just wanna hold your hand. but y-you don't like me. why don't you like me?"

ghost let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head a bit as he approached the elevator and pushed the call button. he moved to stand in front of you, his grip on your arm falling away. "dove, c'mon—you're ruinin' that pretty makeup on y'face." he thumbed at the mascara on your cheek, frowning under his mask as the black only smeared more.

you tried to push his hand away, but the amount of alcohol in your veins made your movements slow and uncoordinated. "i don't care, ghost. just like you don't care about me."

"god—would you stop that?" ghost grumbled out in frustration as he ran a hand over his mask, trying to regain his composure before looking back down at your teary face. he lifted a hand up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes on him. "i obviously fuckin' like you. i wouldn't be walkin' you home from the bloody club if i didn't, 'kay? you're just drunk right now—and you get a bit emotional when you're drunk."

you sniffled up the tears lodged in the back of your throat as your unsteady eyes met ghost's, skin warming at the way his gloved fingers trapped your chin in his grip. "t-then why won't you just hold my hand? i-it's not like i'm asking you to kiss me or date me or somethin'. it'll make me feel better."

ghost let out a scoffed breath as he turned away from you, shaking his head and grumbling something under his breath before you felt his leather-covered fingers lace with yours. the elevator dinged and pulled open with a hiss, and ghost gently tugged you inside with a squeeze to your hand. "there—happy now? gonna stop being a little crybaby about it?"

as soon as you felt ghost's hand in yours, a drunken smile smeared across your lips, warmth coating your skin as you stumbled into the elevator behind him. "you have big hands."

"jesus." ghost muttered with a shake of his hand, using his free hand to punch the button for your floor and watching the elevator doors close in front of you two. "don't get used to this, 'kay? m'only doing this because you're bloody cryin' over it."

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .1

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: a young actor moves across the hall from an aspiring ballerina. (college au kinda)

word count: 1562

a/n: i've had this idea knocking around in my brain for a few days and finally got to penning it down -- enjoy!

August 2016

The sun stretched its golden rays across the morning sky in New York City, the last embrace of summer's fading heat lingered in the air. The city bustled under a whispering breeze that carried the promise of change, as tree leaves, once adorned in vibrant green, began their slow transformation into a canvas of crimson and gold. Amidst the streets, a serene anticipation filled the air, capturing the essence of a city transitioning as the summer activities came to a close and the kids were dreading the return to school.

The wheels on Tom's luggage clacked against the cracks and bumps in the concrete sidewalk, bleary and tired eyes scanning between his phone and the address placards on the various condos. He knew he should've taken a cab, but the bus was so much cheaper and Google indicated it was only a five minute walk to his new living quarters anyway.

He finally stopped in front of a brick building, the address placard worn and rusted from the elements but the numbers matched up with that on his itinerary. The other cue that gave it away was the variety of art pieces in windows and hung over bannisters and fire escapes. Tom lugged his bag up the three stone steps and ducked inside.

The lobby was pale, dingy and in dire need of a fresh coat of paint; not to mention the air held hints of mothballs and burnt microwaved popcorn. An older woman was sat behind a desk, reclined in her chair while glazed eyes were focused on her computer screen. Tom approached slowly, hoping his smile could cover the exhaustion hiding in his face.

"Hello,"

The woman's eyes were the last to focus when she turned her head, blinking over her glasses and a warm smile graced her face, "Oh, hello! You must be... erm..." she suddenly grabbed a clipboard and scanned the tiny text, "... Jacob Nielson?" she spoke in the classic Brooklyn accent with exaggerated vowels and nasally undertones.

"No," he shook his head politely, "My name's Tom. Blyth," he replied.

She scanned her list with her pen, gasping aloud when she found his name, "I see, now! Very nice to meet you, my name's Doris -- I'm the super here. You're my renter from London, right?"

"Yeah. Well -- Yorkshire specifically,"

"I didn't do so well in geography, honey. Have mercy," Doris replied as she stood up, heading for the wall of cubbies behind her, "So tell me, which insane asylum are you checking into?"

" -- Excuse me?"

"What school are you attending?" she asked again, her fingers flourishing across the cubbies.

Tom nodded, "I'm starting at Julliard next week. I'm an actor," he replied.

Doris scoffed, "Yeah? You and everybody's dog, honey," she pulled a key from a specific slot and returned to the desk, "But you got a nice face, maybe you'll luck out,"

Tom wasn't sure whether or not he should've taken that as a compliment, so he simply smiled back and accepted the key, "Um, thank you,"

"You're on floor three, room 14. Your roommate should already be moved in, he can give you a tour of the place," she explained, "If you need anything, leaky faucets fixed and whatnot just come down and see me,"

"Thank you, Doris," he took his bag and started for the elevator on the right of the room, but Doris called out to him again.

"Hold on, handsome! Elevator's broke! Hasn't worked since Giuliani was mayor," she pointed to the left, "Stairs are over there,"

Tom huffed under his breath; he was tired and the last thing he wanted was to lug his suitcase up three flights of stairs. Nevertheless, he gave Doris one more polite grin as he started for the staircase.

The sun cast stark patterns across the stairs, the skewed silhouettes of the window panes interrupted by Tom's own shadow as he made his trek up. He hadn't at first registered the thundering of footsteps above him until a group of kids rushed passed him.

"C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" The stairwell was relatively narrow, arms and bodies knocking into Tom until he nearly slipped and his grip loosened on his suitcase. The suitcase went tumbling down the stairs, smacking hard against the opposing wall and the latches burst open. His belongings spilled everywhere.

Tom grumbled to himself, trekking down the stairs again to clean up the mess. One of the kids however hung back, trailing behind her group but she'd witnessed Tom's misfortune. She double backed up the stairs, staring in astonishment at the clothes and knick knacks, then at him.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Tom was crouched over the ground when he looked up, coming face-to-face with the concerned expression of a young brunette. She was lean and petite, dressed down in denim shorts and black tank top. Her converse had two different coloured laces, one red and one yellow. He found that peculiar.

"I'm alright," Tom assured her, "If this is the worst thing that happens to me today, then it's not such a bad day, right?" he tried to laugh it off.

The girl simpered, "Sure," nevertheless she crouched down to help him. One of her friends called out from below.

"Noelle! C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" she shouted.

The girl -- Noelle -- shouted back, "Go ahead, Bianca! I'll catch up with you guys!"

"But the movie starts in an hour! It's take forty five minutes from here, man!"

"It's twenty minutes of previews, anyways!" she turned back to Tom, her cheeks tinting bashfully, "Sorry about that,"

"Don't worry. You should go with your friends, I'll be fine," he replied.

Noelle scoffed, "Can I trust you with a secret?"

"Sure,"

"I hate horror movies,"

Tom smiled, "And lemme' guess: they're going to see a horror movie?"

"Don't Breathe. Some kids break into a blind guy's house and he ends up killing them all and quite frankly -- I can go my whole life without more nightmares," she replied, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"Don't half blame you. I'm not the biggest fan, myself," he said, "Do you live here?"

"Yep. That nutcase shouting at me was my roommate," she replied, "Sorry, I didn't get your name,"

"Tom,"

"Very nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances," she chuckled back.

"Don't worry about it -- Noelle," he grinned.

She helped him clean up and pack his things, leading him back upstairs to his room. He assured her he could manage but Noelle insisted, saying it was the least she could do for his trouble.

"Room 14?" she cocked a brow when he told her, the corners of her lips pulling back to bare her clenched teeth.

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Tom asked apprehensively, "I don't have a serial killer for a roommate, right?"

Noelle shook her head, "No, no, you get Sunny. And he's just like his name -- absolute sunshine human being,"

"... I sense there's a 'but' coming," he trailed.

"He's a scholarship violinist, he's brilliant. And he's so brilliant because he practices at all hours of the night," she explained, "... All hours. You might wanna invest in some noise cancelling ear plugs,"

Tom nodded, relieved that at least his new roomie didn't sound like a dickhead, "Thanks for the advice,"

They stopped in front of the door, a worn brass 14 glinting subtly in the light. Tom fished out the key from his pocket, "I guess this is me,"

"Oh, damn," Noelle huffed, glancing at the door across from them, "You get the insane neighbours,"

His eyes flitted between her and the door, "... Whatcha' mean by that?"

Noelle pulled a key from her pocket, "Well, they're dancers for one. So they're always playing music, talking shit, burning their instant noodles because they're half-daft," with that she shoved the key into the lock and twisted, and sure enough the door opened.

Tom glanced at her, sheer amusement crossing over his face. He simpered under his breath, "You're my half-daft dancer neighbour who burns her instant noodles?"

"Unfortunately for you," she confirmed, half smirking.

"And how does one burn their instant noodles?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she closed and locked the door again, "But I'll let you get settled in. If you need anything at all, you can just pop over,"

"Thank you, Noelle," he smiled, "And thanks again for --" he stopped suddenly when he heard a faint violin melody from the other side of his door. It was a beautiful melody nonetheless, and it had him intrigued, "I suppose that's my roommate?"

Noelle nodded back, "Yep. I promise you, he's a sweetheart," she started walking backwards towards the stairwell, "I'm sorry again about earlier,"

"Don't give it a second thought. Have fun at your movie," he replied.

She giggled sardonically, "Oh trust me, I'll have a blast. I'll see you around, Tom,"

Tom gave her a small wave, watching her until she disappeared around the corner, could hear her shoes squeaking as she trotted down the stairs. He couldn't deny he found her quite a looker, a small part of him giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to know his new neighbour. The violin melody continued to play on the other side of the door, and taking a deep breath for confidence, he pushed the key into the lock and opened the door...

[noorthestar]

His name is party time and 👍

Since he's a regretevator oc (mainly for The AU)

INFO FOR THE AU:

+ not cursed, not apart of The lab

+ appears on The gumball machine floor and happy home

+ friends with : prototype and partynoob

+ has The ability to teleport anywhere he desires

GENERAL INFO :

+ demisexual transmasc! (he/him/xe/party)

+ friends with : poob, prototype, infected, and spud

+ pretty much against The cult of mr (i forgor what its called)

+ Dislikes : chaos, pest, spiders, bad moods

+ likes: parties, dancing, and clocks

+ people he wants to know more about : folly and mark

[shadowsoftheelevatoraskandrp]

"" hiya !! are you hurt ? ""

"" im prototype !! im here to help !! ""

OOC UNDER CUT :

hiya !! its me , @noorthestar again !! this time , its a roleplay blog for my AU , SOTE !! (shadows of the elevator) ^_^ if you want to roleplay here with your own oc , then thats completely fine !! just gotta know if they work in the lab or not , how cursed are they , and whats their role if they DO work in the lab !! a copy paste from my main acc lmao :

~SHADOWS OF THE ELEVATOR AU~

a while back , when all of this chaos started , MR created a curse that will turn anyone into a deadly and unrecognizable "shadow" , as the survivors call it. it had gotten to many people already ! meaning only a few of the NPCs are unaffected . for now. ABOUT THE CURSE :

it has 3 stages ! STAGE 1 : kinda blurry vision , some spots of black will appear on the skin , behavior unaffected. can be healed easily

STAGE 2 : a little more hostile , yet can control themself , more black parts will appear on the skin as there will be a slightly clear black "shadow" around them . can be healed but it might take more time

STAGE 3 : pretty much will attack anyone they see , manipulative , literally a "shadow like creature" . can be healed but it will take alot of time

----

now for the NPCs !!

💙: cannot be cursed / 💚: completely safe / 💛: stage 1 cursed / 🧡: stage 2 cursed / ❤️: stage 3 cursed

BIVE: 💚 SPLIT: ❤️ MARK:🧡 WALLTER:❤️ GNARPY:💛 MACH:💙 PILBY:💛 FOLLY:💙 ENPHOSO:💙 FLESHCOUSIN:🧡 DR RETRO: 💚 INFECTED: 🧡 JERMBO:💛 LAMPERT: 💚 MR MANUEVERER: 💙 MR: 💙 POOB: 💙 PEST: 💛 PROTOTYPE:💚 REDDY: 💚 SCAG: 💚 SPUD: ❤️ UNPLEZ: 💛 EMERSON: 💛 YUM ZLURPLIE: 💚 CREM: 💚 CLOVER: ❤️ JEREMY: 💛 SLIMYIM: 💙 GREGORIAH: 💚 SWIBBLEDIB: 💚 SARAH: 💛

---

theres a lab far away from the ones who are cursed to find a cure for the curse. MR works in that lab and no one thinks he's harmful ; except for bive and dr retro. they both know if they try something against him then everyone will be in danger..

NPCS IN THE LAB : 💉: scientists / 💊: helpers / 🔎: researchers/data finders (?) /🩺: ones getting "healed"

MR: 💉 DR RETRO: 💉 PROTOTYPE: 💊 SCAG: 🔎 BIVE:🔎+💊 PEST: 🩺+🔎 INFECTED: 🩺

---

☆although bive talks about split almost all of the time due to worry , dr retro manages to calm her down somehow ☆even though dr retro and MR fucking HATE eachother , they tolerate eachother in the lab ☆pest and bive work together to find info/data about the curse ☆prototype brings in random useful material whenever he finds it ☆anytime someone needs extra info , scag is there for them ! ---------- now onto the npcs opened/closed for asks !!! PROTOTYPE - OPEN SCAG - CLOSED DR RETRO - CLOSED PEST - CLOSED BIVE - OPEN MR - CLOSED INFECTED - CLOSED ---------- tags : #SOTE asks - asks that the silly guys answer #SOTE anon asks - anon asks that the silly guys answer #SOTE ooc - ooc stuff --------- yeah thats all , have fun and dont send weird shit please !!!

[shad0wvisi0n]

Chapter 1 Static life

AU Created by @b-r-i-n-g-x and @shygirl4991

All art belongs to the rightful artist do not repost

Artist for chapter @b-r-i-n-g-x @merp0515

Shout out to @lizaluvsthis and @theartistisme43 our other assistants!

Next Chapter

Liko Studies Page 1

Summary: A year has passed since PuzzleVision, a year since the crew took back their lives. Anger grew as he recovered and watched the crew move on with their lives, while he lost everything. Weak he explores the remains of Peach’s castle to get an idea, anything that can help him with his plans of revenge. That's when he found it, two locks of hair from the very guardians that defeated him. A new plan was born that day and its name is Shadow Vision.

Tags: Fluff, angst, humor, found family, falling in love, love confessions, slow burn, blood, injury,

SMG4 stretches as he looks up at the sky, humming to himself as he decides to walk over to Three’s coffee n bombs. As he enters the cafe he frowns seeing no one there, he peeks in the back room feeling anxiety grow. Taking out the book, he takes the elevator that leads to SMG3 room. He looks around and frowns noticing even Eggdog wasn't around, panic was growing not seeing his friend around.

A year ago they encountered a villain that was the master of television. He remembers the day they defeated him well, how they had to make their own show to best him. The anger he felt that day as he grabbed mallet Luigi and smashed the television in, while the crew celebrated and after months of therapy from SMG3 things went back to normal. Except it didn't fully, deep down Four had a fear. A fear that the smash didn't truly kill Mr. Puzzles and that he is still around ready to take control of them again. 

He gets back in the elevator then dash out the cafe, closing his eyes he focuses on their cosmic link. Feeling the pull he runs through the woods  “Please be okay Three,” he stops running when it clicks where he was. He looks down letting out a shaky breath as he walks near the hole in the ground “Three?!”

A tentacle comes out of the hole reaching for him, SMG4 screams dodging the grab. Thats when he heard an explosion “THATS WHAT YOU FUCKING GET FOR TOUCHING EGGDOG!”  

Three blinks as he notices SMG4, glaring at the monster he picks up Eggdog, then runs to pick up Four “The hell are you doing here?” Four gives him a sheepish smile “Looking for you.” Avoiding another hit the pair escape running back to the cafe, missing a glimpse of an old enemy.

Once safe SMG3 checks Eggdog before turning his attention to Four,  gently grabbing Fours face to check on him “Hey you okay? That was a close call.” Four nods getting closer to Three “I’m fine, I'm more worried as to why you were over there!” Mario arrives in time to see the pair an inch apart from kissing, his eyes light up from the sight “HEY, ARE YOU TWO FINALLY KISSING?!”

The guardians look at each other and blushes, in a panic they smack each other making sure there is plenty of space between them. “No you ass! We were attacked by those things near Peach’s castle!” Three crosses his arms annoyed by the avatar, Four sighs repeating himself “Why were you over there?” Three pets Eggdog with a loving smile before facing Four “Eggdog was freaking out, it wasn't like him so i went to investigate. Found nothing but those tentacles out which makes me wonder..if someone fell in there.”

They stay silent for a moment lost in thought, Mario seeing his friends sad does what he does best. He wraps his arms around his guardians and smiles at them “Mario is hungry!” the pair roll their eyes letting out soft giggles. With Mario’s push they end up at the castle making spaghetti, dropping the topic all together.

In the woods Mr. Puzzle hums watching them from afar “Now how did you reach the castle so fast?”

Ever since his defeat he spent time recovering and plotting his next grand show, his acquaintance Liko helped nurse him during this time. She was a strange creature, a rare fable that lives in the mushroom kingdom. A few months ago he started to spy on the crew again, with the help of Liko they watched and studied hoping to find any kind of weakness. Once the coast was clear he started to wander around the woods, there his screen flickered showing off a wide smile. There stood an open guardian portal, testing the waters, he removed his head placing it on the floor. Then his body walks in, after a few moments the body returns in perfect condition.  Putting his head back on he goes through, where he is greeted with the  pit he and SMG4 created two years ago. 

He walks close to it and lets out a chuckle “My SMG4, ever the villain keeping an eye on your masterpiece.”

He snaps his fingers getting a tentacle's attention, using it as a lift he gets on it letting it bring him down. He walks through the path that leads to the castle, there he notices something. With a gasp he walks up to a pile of slime pulling out what looked like locks of hair “Hello gorgeous, you look fresh!” quickly he takes out his phone. After a few rings he heard a woman's voice on the other line “No time for chatting, remember how you mention you would love to know how meme guardians work?” he hears a sigh from the woman along with her dropping something in the background. “Alright Mr. Puzzle, what do you have?” 

“Meme guardian hair, fresh. You know what this means don't you? We can make our own guardians!”  he smiles at the hair in his hand.  The time for revenge has finally presented itself, Mr puzzles was excited to do what no network has ever done before. He snaps his fingers to escape the castle,  once away from the pit he heads off to his lair, an abandoned studio lot. 

Liko puts on her coat to get the machines ready “Okay i need to get things ready, shit! We need pods, the meme guardians have USB so what can I use to replace that.”  She searches her lab to find an old portable television. She chuckles opening the device and fixing it up,  meme guardians pods were related to the internet. If they wanted to make their own they need to think outside of the box, given she will need her partners TV powers she knew turning this portable television would be the best bet.  She lets out a wide smile seeing the TV working again, Mr. Puzzles enters the room at that moment watching the scientist “Brought you a gift!” 

Removing the cover on it, Mr. Puzzles walked up to the tank excitedly. Staring at the white orbs he looks down at Liko “This is meme energy, it wasn't easy to learn how to extract it but with this i think we can pull this off!” She takes a step back to give the man room, understanding what she meant he points his finger to the tank. Shooting it with his power the orbs start to bounce around the tank, the TV man steps back then pulls Liko with him as they watch the tank shake. 

Liko takes the locks of hair from him, she puts it through a scanner and laughs “It's hair from both guardians! This is perfect, we can have two guardians if this works!” hearing those words excited the TV man. Not only will he get revenge he will also  have his own actor,one he can command and they will follow his every word. Liko separated the hair locking SMG3 hair away, humming as she studied the hair. “We are lucky guardians work differently from us, this hair sample should be enough to make something!”

She places SMG4 lock of hair on the table, then walks up to a tank “Been saving these bad boys for months!’

The orbs start to change becoming filled with static, Liko screams in joy running to the tank “IT’S WORKING!” She runs to the computer to scan the orbs. What was once filled with pure meme energy was changing into something else, the meme power slowly changing into television energy. Mr Puzzle claps his hands to get the woman's attention, she turns looking up at him in excitement “It's working! Now to place the needed items to make a body…this is the part that can fail. Be ready for disappointment.”

She goes to a secret room taking out a strange jar, she drops some of its contents on the portable TV then the lock of hair. Putting it away she hits the button removing one of the static orbs “We don't know how stable this is so i recommend you get in your head!” She runs for cover as Mr. Puzzles stands there watching. The room is then swallowed by a bright light, Liko peeks out of her hiding spot to see Mr . Puzzles staring at the portable TV in shock. She walks up to up “It…changed? It sorta resembles a portable gaming console, but no mistake it's a portable television.” 

The pod starts to grow causing Liko to panic “SHIT GET IT OUT OF THE LAB ITS GROWING!”

Mr. Puzzles picks up the TV and throws it out,  they watch as it keeps growing. “Uh, now that I think about it we never took into account how big we were making him, did we?” Liko lets out with a sigh, then the pod stops growing as it opens up. They watch as a man comes out all dressed in yellow, his eyes show static until he rubs them. He looks around his dark yellow eyes meeting Mr. Puzzle, he slowly walks up to the man “You're my star! We did it!” the man rolls his eyes looking around again “Where the fuck am i and why is there a talking box here?” 

Mr. Puzzle frowns “Now that kind of language won't work with what we plan on doing, i'm your manager slash director!” he spins giving jazz hands to the man “MR. PUZZLE!” Now that Mr. Puzzle was closer to the man he noticed while the guardian was made from SMG4 DNA, the appearance didn't fully show it. His eyes lay on the sharp teeth he had sticking out of his mouth, he also noticed the pointy ears making the man look more of a fable creature than a full human. “My…pod it said my name is SV4, so call me that.”

Mr.Puzzle watches as the man shrinks his pod, he blinks seeing the portable TV now pocket sized. Interested as to why the portable TV took the form of a portable console he decided to poke more at the guardian “SV4 huh? Do tell me your pod reminds me of something, are you perhaps interested in a different kind of medium that isn't television?” 

SV4 rolls his eyes putting his pod in his pocket “I like video games, which mind you helps shape a lot of media in television.” that's when he notice someone hiding in a bush “Who the fuck is that? Is this some kind of trap,” he glares at Mr.Puzzle. Liko lifted her hand giving a nervous giggle “No trap, im Liko the uh co-director just here to see the star of our shows arrive!” She was thankful that all the years of hearing Mr. Puzzle talk came in handy for once. SV4 gives them both a look before walking away, seeing that the pair walk with him. Mr.Puzzle screen flashes a smile “Do you even know where our home is?” SV4 stops walking, frustrated he turns to the pair. He didn't want to trust him but something in him told him this was right, along with feeling something was missing. 

Liko notices the look that SV4 had “Mr. Puzzle we should start working on SV3, after all meme guardians come in two for a reason.” Mr puzzle lets out a small chuckle “He is the star for this upcoming project, he doesn't need to share the spotlight!” with that he puts his arm around the guardian and walks off to their home. Liko frowns watching them walk away, she walks back to her lab to do more research on meme guardians. She was glad that SMG1 and 2 made a book explaining the basics, with this it could help them figure out how to care for SV4.

They arrive at the location, Mr. Puzzles walks in front of SV4 giving him jazz hands as he shows the man an abandoned movie set. SV4 eyes go wide as he looks around, then he sees an action set and runs to it “MINE!” Mr. Puzzles watches SV4 running around the action set amused. Compared to SMG4 this guardian certainly did take the excitable trait from his counterpart, SV4 pauses opening the dressing room “Fuck man this place is empty, hey box head where is our shit?” Mr. Puzzle sighs. Their huge difference is the fact SV4 swears like a sailor, not to mention the attitude he has on him. 

Seeing the look SV4 knew what they had to do, he steps in front of Liko next to Mr. Puzzle. Liko starts to glare at the pair, Mr. Puzzles then displays footage of a dog giving puppy eyes while SV4 was giving her puppy eyes. Unable to ignore the looks she gives in "FINE I WILL BUY THE STUFF FOR YOUTUBE!"

He walks and looks in the room “Hm we are going to need a little help if we are to get what we need, i have an idea SV4 lets call it your first acting job!”

Liko opens the door to her lab, to her surprise SV4 was standing there he smirks at her “Now Mr. Puzzles hate to do this but I find it funny!” Liko confused steps out of her lab. Mr. Puzzle flashes her a smile “Given i dont have my powers anymore, i need money to get what we need for the show!” Liko shakes her head. SV4 watching the pair lets out a chuckle “Come on Liko, as the co director dont you wanna help your favorite guardian out?” Liko looks at the pair still refusing to help them, Mr Puzzles gives SV4 a look. 

They return home setting everything up, SV4 jumps around lovingly hugging his gaming setup “Daddy is here shhh we will have an all night Spyro marathon don't you worry!”  Mr. Puzzles gives a concerned look towards the guardian “While i would love to…um give you alone time. We need to release our first video soon, otherwise this whole thing would be a waste of time!” SV4 rolls his eyes letting go of the system. He picks up a game and controller, pointing it at Mr. Puzzle “Listen up box head! Gaming is an art and if we are going to have me as the face of the channel we do it my way!” He then sits down hitting records and starts playing games. 

Mr. Puzzle smiles as SV4 cheers, with a sigh she gets her wallet. She walks out giving them a small smile “So what's the channel going to be called?” the pair stare at her with a blank expression, Liko eyes go wide “Wait you ask me to buy you things and you still haven't set up the youtube?!”  SV4 scoffs walking into her lab. Concerned with having the man in her lab she runs in, the man gets on the computer and starts making the account. He smirks as he types away, then he turns the monitor “There problem solved!” 

Liko and Mr. Puzzle look at the account “SV4…perfect! We just have to hope our viewers won't think we are copying anyone.” the man rolls his eyes “From our walk you told me about SMG4, if he can use his name as the channel name who the fuck says i can't!” Mr. Puzzle frowns his screen changing into an expression of annoyance “Language!”

Liko giggles “Let him be, plus if he swears in his videos when it comes to editing he can just remove it!”  SV4 gives a smug look causing the TV man to sigh walking away “Let's just get what we need, it's showtime!” with a nod they get together and start walking into the kingdom. Mr. Puzzle wears a cloak to cover himself, not everyday you see a walking talking television. While he doesnt care if the SMG4 crew learn of his return, he preferred to keep the mystery going on longer just to mess with the meme guardians.  As they go shopping for the items needed, Liko can only watch in horror as she sees the prices of all the items.

After a few hours SV4 tosses a USB toward Mr. Puzzles“There, my footage and commentary on Spyro: Enter the dragonfly. Now if you don't mind, the crash series calls to me!” Mr. Puzzles catches the USB confused, he gets up lifting up SV4 by his overalls. He gives the smaller man a stern look “You mean you didn't edit the video!?” SV4 blinks at him before chuckling “Me? Edit? You're funny, there isn't time for me to edit when I'm behind on the rich history of gaming!” his eyes sparkle as he looks back at his gaming setup.  It was a dangerous sparkle that stirred strange emotions from the Television man, he drops SV4 confused by the emotions. Now free SV4 runs to his room to keep playing, with an annoyed sigh Mr. Puzzle goes off to edit the video himself. 

With a sigh he hits upload, it took hours for him to put together  given how much the man recorded. With a hum he stares at the video “Please let this work,” he refreshes the page and jumps up in surprise “650 VIEWS!?”

He couldn't believe that in a blink everyone was watching, he chuckles darkly as he sees the likes going up. He did it, he made the perfect star that will get him back on the air in no time. He texted the link to Liko and in a moment she called “That’s impossible, how can a video get so popular fast…unless,” he hears typing on the other line for a few moments before silence. 

Liko’s eyes go wide seeing the video now hitting five thousand views and counting, looking around her desk she finds what she is looking for. She sits at her desk taking out a lock of hair she took from SV4, there was no way she would miss a chance to study her creation and now was the perfect time. “Mr. Puzzles using the lock of hair I took when SV4 was shopping for games, I might be able to figure this out!”  scanning the hair she gasps seeing the readings going wild.

“Puzzles, we need to make him a SMG3. The readings are unstable, without something to keep him balanced we don't know what could happen. He could blow up, or just die!” Mr. Puzzle chuckles as he watches the numbers go up. He looks into SV4 room seeing the man playing games “He is the star Liko, he doesn't need to share the stage after all if his power makes this happen! Well…i'm not losing this.” he hangs up the phone without a second thought.

Days passed, while Mr. Puzzle enjoyed seeing the numbers fly; he ended up getting blinded to see SV4 was using gaming as an escape. He was feeling weak, empty, unsure if doing youtube was worth anything.  That's when the content stopped, noticing that he storms into the dinner area as gasp. SV4 was sitting there zoned out playing on a PS Vita, feeling annoyed he takes the system “SV4, it's almost the due date super star. Where is the video?”  SV4 looks up at him, his eyes devoid of life. Seeing his face trigger a small memory of him watching TV, ignoring everything as he enjoys the next episode of scooby doo.

“Oh yeah i didnt..i should,” the world started to spin for man as he passed out. Mr. Puzzle acts fast catching him before he hits the floor.  “The world…is lonely,” hearing his weak words made Mr.Puzzle feel guilty, he let out a soft chuckle looking at the passed out man “Why do you remind me of someone?”

He walks to SV4 room and tucks him into bed, taking out his phone he slowly calls Liko “Let's make the gay sidekick.”

Hearing this she excitedly grabs her fiancée hand “He is finally doing what i said, im both excited and worried on what made that man change his mind. SV4 must be getting worse.” She goes to the computer while her fiancée gets the items together, this was going to be easy just do the same steps as last time. She is thankful she saved the second portable Television after everything with SV4, once everything is set up she goes to pull the lever. 

SV4 wakes up, looking around he sees he is in his room “Huh? Did he put me here…wonder if he is around.” As he leaves his room a strange feeling hits him. His eyes go static, he sees the front of the abandoned movie set and next to the person was Mr.puzzle. Surprised he runs to the front of the building, there his eyes go wide as Mr puzzle shows off a new person “INTRODUCING YOUR NEW CO STAR SV3!” They smile shyly and wave at SV4. The moment their eyes met he felt the emptiness leave, he walked up staring at the man “You play games?” SV3 hums “Not really but if you got fun party games i'm in!” 

“Flordeliza, you keep an eye on the meter as I watch over the pod.” She walks up excited to meet their new friend. Only for alarms to burst, Flordeliza runs up holding on to Liko “What?! Not enough energy, but this is how SV4 was made.” She runs to the back with her partner, together they carry a huge jar of unknown substance. Exchanging looks they dump it, Liko dashes and pulls the lever. The machine lets out a loud sound before blasting the table, Liko runs looking for her partner.  She lets out the breath she was holding seeing Flordeliza holding the pod “Ah you rock Flor! Now take the pod out and let's see if we save it…for SV4.” 

They walk outside watching the pod grow, Liko takes out a clipboard watching and waiting for results. Just then Mr. Puzzles shows his screen flicking to a smile “Ah! The gay sidekick is made!”  noticing Flor he stays a few steps away from her. They all watch as the pod screen goes static, that's when a person climbs out of it confused.  Liko’s eyes go wide “oh no the malfunction messed up one of your eyes.”

The new guardian smiles touching his left eye “Oh don't worry i can see fine! Hello, I'm SV3. It's nice to meet everyone!”  Mr. Puzzles nod, grabbing the man's arm “Three grab your pod we need to hurry home.”  with a nod he shrinks his pod and pockets it before leaving. Liko smiles brightly at her partner “ WE DID IT!”

SV3 giggles making SV4 roll his eyes doing his best to hide the small smile growing on his face “Lets go to my room, i'm sure i got something.”  Mr. Puzzle watches the pair walk off together, the screen changed showing how drained he was. Never did he think creating TV guardians would be this messy, smacking his head he let out a smile “This is fine, these two will bring me closer to stardom!” 

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Four AU)

Threesome Edition

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Threesome (M/M/GN), Jealousy/possessive fighting, Spitroasting, Size difference, Oral sex (reader performing & recieving), Swallowing, Double penetration, PinV sex, Anal sex, Breeding kink, Humiliation kink, Creampie, Aftercare.

Word count: 11k

Notes: Alright you fuckin degenerates HERE YOU GO! I DID IT! Alternate version of chap twenty-four which ends with a bit more s p i c e, aka Miguel is no longer a dumb virgin.

You barrelled into the elevator with Mig at your back. Neither of you could even stomach waiting until the doors were closed; the moment you hit the floor he was pinning you down with his lips and biceps, tonguing your mouth with furious, pining little moans. The doors closed on a handful of curious if horrified onlookers.

‘Mm- mm, come here’ he hissed between kisses, furiously petting your body.

‘M-Mig—’ You barely even got his name out of your mouth before his tongue was back down your throat. The soft ‘ding’ of the elevator, a reminder of the professional, clean-cut environment you were in, was drowned out by the sound of Mig grinding you into the floor.

You dug your nails into his back as you smothered you with his human torso. It was hard to breathe. You felt your lungs expanding in your chest as his muscled chest crushed your ribs. No air could hope to break through the bond he’d made between your lips, that halo of saliva and venom, allowing him to taste you in the most perverse way. His flat, hot tongue was curious as it brushed your own. You felt so delicate. So small. He wanted to eat you up.

You were getting lightheaded.

‘Mm—MM—’

It was right then, as Mig was sliding his tongue down your throat, that a deafening bang filled the elevator. You spun in unison to see the unexpected interruption.

The doors to the elevator had been yanked apart, revealing a tall and imposing shadow in its maw. You both watched in a state of panic as their face came into view.

Miguel’s cold, tired pout stared back at you and Mig from the elevators entrance.

For a moment all three of you went silent. You were too shocked to say a word, as was Mig, and Miguel seemed too exasperated to get a word out. He simply ran a hand down his face and furiously rubbed at his eyes.

‘Ay coño—’ he murmured beneath his breath.

You felt your heart sink into your chest. Oh god. You’d been tricked. Of course, this was all a ruse, wasn’t it? Miguel had set you up, made you feel safe, and now he was going to show you off to everyone. You could faintly see the curious spiders moving about the lobby behind him, all of them in the perfect position to see you beneath Mig.

You locked gazes with Miguel as he stared down at you with cold, red, disdainful eyes. You silently pleaded for him not to do whatever he was about to do, even though you knew it was likely pointless. His eyes narrowed.

‘Everything okay Miguel?’

Someone from outside called to him, and you braced for him to reveal you and Mig in your compromising position. But Miguel didn’t do that.

‘It’s fine! Lyla spotted something off about the elevator. I’m going to check it out’ he said, and before anyone could reply he used his own web to slam the elevator doors shut.

You were too shocked to even get up. ‘You—Miguel, where did you—’

‘Why… did you not USE A PORTAL TO GO HOME?’ he hissed in your face. You stumbled back as Mig pushed his way forward, his teeth defensively bared. The two butted foreheads so hard that it let out a violent cracking noise.

It took you stumbling to your feet to stop them from breaking into an all-out war. Your skin-tight suit had been soaked with slick just from Mig’s sweet kisses, and the smell seemed to have a physical pull on the two men. You stood, sodden and abashed, beneath the joint glow of their eyes.

‘I….’ Miguel grunted and coughed, forcing his aggravated expression back on like a mask. ‘I said, why did you two not make a portal and go back to your universe. Why did you go into the elevator?!’

‘I, ah—I, wasn’t, thinking straight’ you blurted. ‘I just… I needed, to—’

‘Eres estúpido—’ Miguel paused midway through his angry rant to breathe. You watched in real time as he forced that instinctual rage down. ‘I know’ Miguel grunted. ‘I know. God, you both—stink. Just— alright, stand back’ he barked. You hated how you still obediently followed his orders.

Miguel held up his watch and created a portal on the far side of the elevator. He gestured for you both to jump in. ‘Here. Sneak out while you can, I’ll divert the people outside.’

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You wanted to ask what his deal was, where he’d gone, why he was suddenly helping. You had a million questions for this man, though you quickly realized they’d have to wait, as Mig was tugging you towards him. The spider hadn’t blinked since Miguel entered the elevator, and his body was shaking with an innate desire to tear his rival to shreds.

Miguel stared back with cold eyes.

‘Go, now. Out’ he said. Mig bobbed his head. He checked quickly that you were safe and stable at his side, and with his foreleg around your waist he leapt through.

You dove through the portal and stumbled back out into the old woods, your feet right on the verge of your homely little hole in the ground. You let out a low groan as you hit the grass.

The heat was still burning low and strong in your core, thickening with every minute that passed. You’d settled it a little by letting Mig grind on you, but it would soon return. At least you’d be able to quell it at home.

Mig took a moment to collect himself on the grass before grasping your nape between his teeth, his favourite method for carrying you in a rut. It was pleasurable to grasp you in his maw, to show off how small you were and how strong he was. You didn’t need words; his warm, affectionate breath on your neck was enough, as was your willing acceptance of his grip.

You hung limp and allowed him to carry you down into your shared nest. Through the rounded door, down into the dimly lit earthen tunnels where the candlelight danced across your skin. Your belly knotted in anticipation. You knew where he was taking you.

Sure enough, Mig went straight to the bedroom. He widened his jaw and let you drop into the soft, sweet silk covering your shared bed, all of it smelling like him. You breathed in his scent as he began rustling at your back. He was doing his little mating dance, rhythmically shaking to earn your favour.

‘Mi tesoro’ he whined. ‘Mi hermoso tesoro, te necesito.’

You coyly glanced over your shoulder at him. That temptation was bubbling in your gut again, the heat prickling beneath the skin. You wanted that pretty spider to have you.

‘Mm… Mig, come here—’

You rolled and held out your arms, ready to take him in, only to lose sight of him in an explosion of light.

Your arms flew to your face as Mig dived on your body. You could feel him trying to shield you, but from what you didn’t know. You tensed and prepared for some kind of attack.

But nothing happened. Seconds passed without a change in the air, spare for the light you could see dancing beneath your closed lids. When Mig also failed to move or speak, you opened your eyes.

You froze. Miguel was standing in the middle of your bedroom, his silhouette framed by a shifting portal, the culprit of the sudden explosion of light. He ignored you both as you gawked in shock, instead fixing his sleeves as the portal collapsed in on itself.

‘Miguel?’ you blurted. He glanced down at you and froze. He could smell the heat on you even here. That fragrant, tempting musk, the scent of slick dripping from a body ready for him to breed.

He was like a starving man on the brink of death being taunted with an overripe peach; all he wanted to do was tear into that soft flesh, and taste whatever was inside. He bit his tongue to stop flushing.

‘Really? The moment you got back, you start—rubbing on each other again? Not a second to waste? God you are both—’ he paused to hiss beneath his breath. ‘Degenerado. Cochino’ he emphasised as he glanced at Mig. The two locked eyes.

‘You’ Mig hissed, venom bubbling at the corners of his teeth.

‘Cochino’ Mig repeated coldly.

The two jumped at each other before you could even think of stopping them. They went for the throat, teeth gnashing and claws flying, snapping and pushing on each other’s shoulders like dogs. You yanked at Mig’s fur in vain.

‘STOP! MIGUEL, STOP!’ you cried.

After the initial burst of rage Miguel did force himself back. He stumbled away and panted hard, leaving you to grip Mig’s side so he didn’t finish the job. It was clear that the hormones in the room were simply too much for them.

‘Get OUT, OF MY NEST!’ Mig seethed. His body let out a rustling sound like a snake, a fools attempt to scare Miguel away. His variant let out a violent hiss, and you tensed in preparation for another attack, but to your surprise Miguel instead relented.

He drew back and shook his head from side to side, physically smacking the left side of his face with his palm. He continued this pattern until he seemed to have calmed. ‘Look, I—I came, to talk. I need to talk to you both’ he said.

‘You are not welcome in my nest, nor even in this forest’ Mig said, his lip curling with distaste.

‘I just—I need to talk to you!’ Miguel replied cryptically. Mig was having none of it. He stamped and reared his front legs in a territorial display.

‘I have nothing to say to you, spare perhaps that I’m disappointed to see you didn’t—’ Mig froze. He wanted to say ‘die’, but as it reached his lips it petered out into nothing. That wasn’t the truth. His raging, stallion hormones were pushing him into anger unbecoming of himself.

He was, deep down, glad to see Miguel alive. Nothing could quell their past, nor his fundamental morals. He valued life. He valued this man, even if he hated him for what he’d done. Mig swallowed hard and struggled to regain his commanding tone.

‘You… What do you want?’ he barked. ‘If you want them—’

‘Idiot. I’m not here to hurt you, or to touch them, or—anything of the sort. Look, if you’re that paranoid, you can… tie my hands together. You’re a freak, you should enjoy that, right?’ Miguel replied spitefully.

Mig narrowed his eyes. ‘If our shared insecurity taught you anything, it should be that you are not my type’ he said slowly.

Miguel narrowed his eyes back. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grim half-smile. He let out a chuckle. It was just one soft noise, then two, then three. ‘Mhm. Funny. Funny. Just—can we talk? …Please?’

He said ‘please’ like it physically hurt to say, but he said it. Mig glanced around his shoulder at you, and you glanced back.

You weren’t sure what to think. Miguel so far had done three things that surprised you. He’d filed the paperwork so you didn’t get in trouble, which at the time you suspected could have been a secret ploy to ruin you later, but now he’d been given the most perfect chance to embarrass you both in front of the society and he’d instead saved you again.

‘If you wanted to talk you have a funny way of going about it’ you said coldly, nothing the fresh cuts on Miguel’s arm. He sneered at you. He clearly wanted to argue back, but just like before he shook his head until his eyes were a little clearer. It was as if he was physically fighting some demonic possession.

‘We’re—spiders. It’s what we do’ he said in response, only to fold at the sight of your disgusted, disbelieving expression. ‘I mean—the, rut, it… I’m sorry. I will hold my tongue’ he said instead.

‘Do you promise to just… stand, quietly? And not, attack my partner again?’ you asked.

‘Yes. I will- stand here, and not attack. I promise’ he said, and even waved his wrist web mechanisms aside. He held up his hands in surrender.

The distaste in Miguel’s eyes was what you wanted to see. If he’d had something planned he’d have looked cool, collected, perhaps smug even. Right now, he looked angry. He looked annoyed, even, that he had to do this. He was doing this against his will, meaning either someone was forcing him to help you, or he was forcing himself to do this.

You gently patted Mig’s back, urging him to lean around and face you again.

‘Let’s hear him out’ you said. Mig instinctively looked disgusted at the idea, almost betrayed that you’d even suggest it.

‘He—after what he did—’

‘I’m not asking for anything other than to hear him out’ you insisted. ‘If he makes a move, you can kill him. Though, only if I haven’t killed him first. But twice now he’s helped us out. He was given the perfect chance to actually get us kicked out and he rejected it.’

‘He— It’s a, ploy. It has to be’ Mig hissed. You shook your head.

‘No. If he had a plan, he wouldn’t be so angry that he’d done it. He knows he’s getting nothing out of this.’

Miguel raised a brow as you spoke. He seemed begrudgingly impressed at how perceptive you were.

‘Argh…. Very well. Arañita, ask what you must’ Mig grumbled. ‘Just don’t let him stay too long. His- stench is disgusting.’

Miguel opened his mouth to argue back, but a murderous side-eye from you forced his mouth shut again. He curled his lip with petulant disdain as you faced him.

‘Alright. Look, we don’t have much time, unless—well unless you plan to watch again, so let’s be quick. Up front, what do you want?’ you spat. Miguel widened his jaw and snapped as he spun, his body betraying the mannerisms of a cornered animal.

‘I wanted to—apologize.’ He grit his teeth on the word ‘apologize’, and he refused to make eye contact, but he did at least manage to get it out. You paused.

‘You—You want to apologise?’ you said incredulously. He grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

‘Y… Yes. Yes. I want to apologize’ he repeated.

You maintained your pause, your eyebrow slowly raising. Now this was interesting. Interesting enough for you to briefly push your heat aside. ‘Okay’ you said, ‘go on. Do it. Apologize.’

Mig let out a dangerous purr at your back as he watched the man with unblinking eyes, as did you. Miguel felt that gaze like a spotlight.

‘I’m—sorry, for how I acted’ Miguel said. The words seemed to weigh in his mouth like hot coals. It looked like agony. ‘I’m sorry. I am, genuinely, sorry, that I let my distaste for you personally impact their safety.’

‘What about Mig’s safety?’ you pushed.

Miguel bared his teeth. ‘I was getting to tha—uh. Yes, I am sorry that I impacted on your safety too, Miguel. You—whatever issues we have, you were under my care, and… you are one of me. The only one of me I still have contact with. I should have kept you safe.’

‘I don’t need your protecting’ Mig sneered. He reared himself for the second time, fully gripping the roots of the ceiling with his claws to show off his enormous side. Miguel stirred with discomfort at the display. He tried, against all the impulses in his body telling him otherwise, to stand still and finish his apology.

‘I’m sorry I tried to approach you so aggressively while in rut, I—am, disgusted in myself for that. I grabbed you and that was wrong. I’m sorry I acted unprofessionally in trying to tear you apart. I truly, believed, I was doing what was right, that you were in danger in his care, but I—I was wrong’ he said, grimacing on the word ‘wrong’.

‘I know I was wrong. And I hate it, because I can’t afford to be wrong, but that—that isn’t your fault. I just—I am sorry, for how I pushed both of you. You… didn’t, technically, do anything wrong.’

Mig listened in silence. When he spoke, it was cold.

‘I don’t care. I don’t want it.’

‘Mig—’

‘I don’t need, nor want, his apology’ Mig cried, both at you and Miguel. ‘And you shouldn’t either. He is a lying snake!’

‘I can’t—lie! O’Hara’s can’t lie!’ Miguel argued, his hands now clasped to his chest. Mig spat venom at him for the second time.

‘You are not an O’Hara. You are a snake. You are—’

‘YOU’RE being unfair! I apologized, I—I did the thing, this is not my fault anymore!’

Mig let out a sardonic laugh. ‘After all you’ve done? You pathetic, grovelling, creature, begging for my mate, begging for attention—’

‘I’M SORRY’ Miguel blurted. Mig reared himself up to instigate a fight, but this time you held him back. You grabbed a thick fistful of his fur and tugged him back down to the bed beside you.

‘Miggy- stop—’

You heard their teeth clashing above you. You hated, internally, how your hot little body throbbed at the sound. You were still instinctively excited by their violence.

‘YOU ARE A SNAKE—’

‘I’M TRYING—TO FIX THING—’

‘YOU ARE A MONSTER!’ Mig cried, his mouth barely a cm Miguel’s.

‘YES! YES, I AM!’

Miguel’s wailing filled the room as the two fell apart, and for a moment you all paused. He let out another broken sound as he paced back and forth across the dirt floor of your bedroom, his head now hanging in his clawed hands.

‘I am! I am! Why do you have to remind me!?’

Mig paused. He was trembling with the unfulfilled need to fight, coursing with adrenaline, but that noise ruined everything. The sound of a man wailing. He didn’t know what to do with that.

‘You… After, all you’ve done—’

‘Yes! I know! It’s why I--- It’s why, I’m trying’ he whined through gritted teeth. You could feel Mig tapping his feet in discomfort.

‘Is that what—do I have to stand here, and be berated, to fix this!?’

‘Why should I not be allowed to speak to you the way I want?!’ Mig snapped.

‘Because it—GOD, It’s so easy for you!’

‘What do you mean, easy for me?!’

‘Because despite what you are, you—grotesque, beast, you get to be—’ Miguel paused again. Through all that anger, through all that disgust, you thought for a moment that he looked sad. ‘You get… you get…’

He looked pitiable, lost, alone. It flashed over his eyes for just a second before he blinked it away.

‘I have seen, every version of myself’ Miguel said. His voice had dipped now, reflecting that internal sadness you’d sensed. ‘Every. Version. They are all… miserable. They all lose someone, if not everything. Do you know how many Peter Parkers there are, that are happy?’

You shook your head awkwardly, and Miguel let out a sardonic chuckle. ‘Almost 60%. Do you know how many versions of me, are happy?’

Again, you shook your head. You saw that little flash of self-pity again.

‘It’s just… him’ he spat. He raised a claw and pointed it at Mig, who stared back with sombre eyes. ‘It’s just, him, now. The only one happy, and it wasn’t even with someone from his own universe. He’s all that’s left. The only other version of us who got to be happy was the one who wasn’t changed, who got to have a child, but he died before he got to really raise her. Everywhere I went, I was alone, or dead, or a monster. Do you know, what they DOES to a person?’

You felt your body growing small in the face of his spiel. You felt Mig shuffling uncomfortably.

‘You don’t. But he does.’ Miguel pointed again to Mig, who refused to meet his gaze. ‘He knows. He knows what it means to be alone, and for that I needed him.’

For some reason, that sentiment bothered you. ‘You treated Mig worse than anyone else’ you blurted. Miguel didn’t deny it.

‘Because I know why we’re alone! It’s—us! As beings!’ Miguel lamented. ‘It’s the spider in us, this, monster, this animal, with no morals, just—eat, fuck, sleep, kill. I wanted to believe I could be good. That I could be better. But I keep…’

He paused again to let out a long breath. ‘I keep, fucking, up. I keep hurting people, like you. But he fucked up too. I justified, myself, because… well he fucked up too. It must be all of us. But he… You, stayed with him, so long. You ignored peoples disgust, you—ignored his body, and you, stayed. I couldn’t comprehend why. I thought—he had to be using you.’

‘I stayed because he’s good’ you insisted. ‘See, you’re so—cruel to him, just for looking this way. He’s only ever been kind.’

‘Ah. Yep. And there it is.’

You blinked in confusion as Miguel smiled sadly.

‘There it is, that’s what drove me so mad. Like he said. I am—a jealous, man. Why did you care about him, why did you want him, and not me?’

‘I—’

‘It doesn’t matter. Does it? It doesn’t matter why you picked him. All that mattered, to me, is that you didn’t pick me. I… hate, what I am. I despise it. And I just—I wanted, someone, to want me. Even a part of me. I wanted someone to prove me wrong. But they never did.’

‘But, your friend—’ you started to say, until Miguel interrupted you again.

‘Pity’ Miguel grunted. ‘It feels like… pity, when he touches me. It’s why I can’t stand it unless I have to. He’s a good man, but… Nobody touches me because they want me.’

‘How sad’ Mig cruelly noted. Miguel let out another sad laugh, and you noticed then that his red eyes were wavering. They were swimming, like the setting sun over an ocean scape. He was crying. He was trembling as he fought himself.

‘You stood by his side. You stood by him through everything, and I…’

He paused and wiped a hand down his face. ‘I have no excuse anymore. Something is wrong with me. I don’t know what, maybe—it is, the spider, maybe its potency is more in me than him because its hidden, I don’t know. I just know that, he’s doing something right, and—I don’t know what it is, but, I want to know.’

He turned to face the wall, seemingly to hide his emotion. ‘I’m sorry’ Miguel said slowly. ‘I am, sorry.’

Mig took a minute or so to slow his breathing, using your warmth and presence as a comforter to soothe his violently beating heart. His body began to relax as he leant against you for support.

Bit by bit, the tension in the room burnt out. Soon all that was left was the smouldering remnants of a very complicated relationship, lingering within all three of you at once.

‘I… don’t, know, how to trust this’ Mig hissed. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you.’

‘I will prove it’ Miguel said over his shoulder. ‘I will. I want to, help.’

‘Help with what?’ Mig pushed.

Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. ‘We mentioned, ages ago, that the reason you needed to be sanctioned was due to the unknown factors around people from different dimensions having children. Right?’

‘Yes. I remember what you used to keep us apart’ Mig hissed.

‘I…’ Miguel opened his mouth to deny it, but he had to stop himself. He knew it was true. ‘Yes, I did. I used it as an excuse to shame you away from each other. But—it wasn’t, untrue.’

‘What wasn’t?’ you asked.

‘The issue of, inter-dimensional couples’ Miguel explained. ‘That. That is the issue. People from different universes have different DNA, we’re coded to the universe we came from. As far as we know, it’s not changeable. It’s why, without that watch there, you would de-stabilize and your DNA would crumble in another world.’

You blinked, and glanced at the watch on your wrist. As you contemplated what he was saying, you started to feel a little sick. The reminder that you weren’t welcome here, that you were hanging by a thread in this world, it hurt to realize. You and Mig weren’t from the same universe. You were never meant to meet.

‘Because of that, the idea that—well, the possibility of breeding between dimensions, it’s never been touched before. None of our members have tried, until… you, two. There is a very real fear that it could cause an anomaly, or—kill you, one or both of you.’

You were drawn to look at Mig, and he was drawn to look at you. He looked horrified. The intrusive memory of Dana, dead on the ground, filled his head. The idea of that being you, of you dying in an attempt to bring about offspring for him, it made him his heart palpitate.

‘Arañita?’ he whimpered. You touched a hand to his flank to help keep him grounded, and internally you stiffened yourself. He needed you to be strong for him.

‘We… yeah. We know that’ you said slowly. ‘I mean—even if it wasn’t true, we accepted that we might not be able to have kids. It’s fine. I’m happy with him.’

‘That’s fine, but… If we could know for sure, would you want to know?’ Miguel asked.

‘I… I mean, yes, but, how?’ you asked, still in shock.

‘I’ve done some research into this area before. I haven’t conducted anything regarding the creation of new life via different universal donors, but, I think my previous research may be useful. I just—I need help to do it. I wasn’t good enough, on my own, to do anything successfully. I’m too- busy.’

He cracked his knuckles as he spoke. He looked angry to admit it, to acknowledge his failure. You watched his full display with wide and curious eyes. Something in him had undoubtedly changed.

‘You’re, asking for help?’

‘Yes. I need—more of me’ Miguel explained. ‘I will do the bulk, since I’m the only one who can do it, but I need assistance, and the only one who can help is another version of me.’

‘And, you’ll help us find out if we can, stay? Together? Why?’ you asked.

Miguel grunted, his lip curling into a slightly sarcastic smile. ‘After all the failures I saw, I gave up. But… I have convinced myself, perhaps stupidly, to do this one more time. To try, one last time. Maybe I can still prove I’m a good person, maybe—’ Maybe I could love something, he thought, though he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Maybe he could be happy. Maybe, he wasn’t doomed.

Mig grunted at Miguels proposition. He didn’t look pleased, but deep down he had regained some of his sympathy for his variant. This arrogant fool had ruined himself, and now he stood here crying, asking for help.

It felt good to see him so low. It also felt bad. Mig could so easily see himself in his place. He’d done so much, and yet he just kept forgiving him. Perhaps he was stupid for that.

Deep down he did want to regain his connection to Miguel, as the only two people in the multiverse who understood each other. How could he not? But the water was so murky now, he didn’t know if it could ever be fully cleaned.

The hormones certainly didn’t help. While he instinctually wanted to submit to you, in turn he wanted to submit this man. He’d beaten him in a fight, he’d won your favour, and yet it wasn’t enough. He still felt unfulfilled. What more could he need? What could he do to even them?

Either way, what mattered is that Miguel was making an offer that meant the world to him. The chance to be with you long term, to consider having a family, to be a unit. It was all he wanted.

‘Very well’ Mig said slowly. He began to lower his tensed spider legs back to the floor as a sign of clemency. ‘I… accept your proposal. I cannot accept your apology, but I accept it as a… start.’

Miguel gave an awkward nod in response. His eyes betrayed a conflicted admiration for his counterpart, though it was still tinted with self-loathing and jealousy. Mig sighed. His own eyes betrayed the same.

‘Yes, I um—I don’t know if I can forgive, yet, not until I’ve seen some change, but… I mean I appreciate the apology. I do’ you said.

‘Oh, god—don’t pity me too’ Miguel scoffed.

You let out a little sarcastic laugh through your nose. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I—’

You opened your mouth to add something, only to double over with a low groan.

You’d forgotten. In the thick of shock you’d forgotten the heat, still lingering deep within your body, begging for release. Against your will it reared its head, that primal urge bursting forth into your blood. It was hot. It was tight. It was BEGGING.

‘Ah…. F-fuck, ah—’

‘Are they okay?’ Miguel blurted. Against his better judgement he moved to help you, only to get a nose-full of that smell. The sweet, rich musk of your body, the smell of pheromones calling to him. He almost stumbled.

‘Oh… Oh. I—’

He caught Mig’s eye as you whined and shuffled in the sheets. The spider was glowing with dangerous intent. His eyes were wide, red, bloody and smooth, and he was slowly moving to cover your body. He refused to blink as he dragged your little body towards his own, his teeth sinking into your suit to pull you closer.

Miguel felt that usual flood of confusing, conflicting emotion. He felt jealousy, lust, disgust. He wanted to run, to flee, and yet he wanted more than anything to dive in, to bury himself in that mattress and plead for your favour.

‘I see you are—busy’ Miguel said through his teeth.

You managed to look up at him as he spoke, your misty eyes struggling to fixate on his face.

Just as he could smell you, you could smell him. As you breathed in his pheromones you came to a sad realization.

Miguel was still infected. He was still rich with pollen, still rutting, still burning up with heat, and he had no other outlet. You’d needed sex almost ten times a day to soothe your shared rut, but theoretically, Miguel had received nothing. No relief, no saving, just that agonising itch he couldn’t scratch.

Your saw his eyes lingering. He was sniffing, subtly, breathing in the smell of warmth and sex and musk. You saw his fist tighten and noted the subtle squeak of straining leather as it did so.

‘I… I should, go—’

‘Wait.’

You spoke without thinking, ordering him to stay. He did as told, his eyes lingering on your face. You held that gaze.

O’Hara’s couldn’t lie. They could hide the truth, but they couldn’t distort it. You knew he was genuinely sorry for what he’d done. He wouldn’t sound so angry about it if he wasn’t. Whatever he’d done before, right now, he was tame.

You couldn’t forgive him so easily, but your brain was on fire. The heat had burned away all higher thought, and you just couldn’t cope with the need. You saw him standing there, alone, and you thought about when you were crushed during the fight.

You secretly relived that memory often. The thought of being penetrated on both ends, to be utterly subdued by two huge men with their snapping teeth and inhuman pheromones, it was too much to even think about. It made you soft. It made your insides clench around nothing, reminding you of your own need to be filled.

The final, filthiest taboo. The one peak, the one ultimate indulgence. That sweet, rare, unachievable gem.

As you looked up with misty eyes you saw the tension in Miguel. The need bubbling just under the surface, the accumulated denial of relief. That stupid, emotionally constipated man, denying himself the most basic touch, ruining himself for pride.

It was hard to not feel sorry for him. It was hard to not want to see him weep over the faintest touch. It was hard to not want to submit him yourself.

‘I think… I think, I know, how he can start showing, how sorry he is’ you murmured.

You felt Mig shifting above you. He was already hard, unabashedly so even in front of his variant, and he seemed too distracted to have heard you. He was panting while rubbing himself out against your thighs.

‘Uhn… w-what?’ he asked, his voice husky. You licked your bottom lip.

‘I… I know, how he can start, making it up to us. If he agrees’ you repeated slowly. You felt Mig rock to a stop.

‘What— What do you mean?’ Miguel hissed. He was feigning annoyance to avoid revealing how aroused he was, how the smell of your body was tugging at him like a physical rope. You licked your lip a second time, and this time, you bit it. Miguel’s eyes instinctively widened.

‘We made him watch us, that one time, right?’ you said slowly. While Mig purred at the memory Miguel looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must have assumed you were going to make him sit and watch again.

‘Yes, I remember’ Mig replied. ‘Do you—’

‘What if, we—did that again, but this time, we let him help?’ you blurted.

Miguel’s head snapped back to you, his eyes wide and hungry. He seemed confused. Did he think he’d misheard? Did he think his mind was playing tricks? You held his gaze steady, your own eyes starving for touch, and slowly his eyes widened with realization. No, he’d heard right.

‘He could… help us out, with easing the r—’

Mig growled hard, cutting off your proposition. You groaned as his talons sank into your back. He pinned you hard to the bed as he leered around your back, his eyes burning as they narrowed at Miguel.

‘Mine.’

‘No, Mig, I—’ you glanced up and tried to catch Mig’s attention, your eyes darting between him and Miguel. You were gesturing silently your desire, your interest.

‘What—what are you saying, arañita?’ he hissed. You bade for him to come down so you could speak with some semblance of privacy.

‘I… I, look, just hear me out. I’m suggesting, that… maybe, just, one time, it—fuck, this rut is so bad, and, if he owes us, it might help me, to… let him, get, involved.’

For a moment you saw concern flash over Mig’s eyes. ‘You… want, him?’ he asked. You shook your head.

‘No, no, not like that. I don’t want him. Just… what he has on him’ you whispered. ‘This is purely physical, I just… This all started, because—mm—we’re all, messy, hormonal, idiots, and you know that. I-I know, you offered to let him watch again, to—ease himself. I-I’m offering that again, just—different. As weird as it is, he owes us, and I want him—to make up for shaming us. How better than to show him for the hypocrite he is?’

In the corner Miguel was absolutely still. He was trying to cover up how he was almost drooling at the mouth like a starving animal, his venom glands working overtime as his rutting body trembled.

This was wrong, he thought. This was so wrong. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t indulge this. Oh, but god, the idea of touching something, of being touched, it made him dizzy. Despite his brain screaming at him to go, he stayed.

‘I-I don’t want your, pity fuck’ Miguel hissed.

‘It’s not pity’ you hissed back, your own body now trembling. ‘I want—to use you.’

Those words drew him to pause. Being used? That meant being wanted, at least on some level, right? Suddenly all of his reservations melted, leaving only the burning, desperate excitement beneath. He’d be touched. He’d be wanted, even just as a donor. He’d be required.

Mig purred low. His eyes were narrowed, but he seemed curious. ‘You… Wish to, use him?’ he murmured. ‘But, the mating—’

‘No mating’ you panted. ‘Just- I’m proposing just the mouth, for now. No mating. I only mate with you.’

The mouth, Miguel thought with a tremble. He could fuck your mouth.

Mig grunted, his breath condensing in the air. The glow of his eyes turned his smoky breath red. He refused to let anyone else touch you, or inside you, but he couldn’t pretend something inside him wasn’t a little aroused by the idea of you using his counterpart for your own pleasure.

The heat was spiralling you all out of your usual depths.

‘You are, mine?’ he murmured. He spoke so low that only you could hear him.

‘I’m yours’ you whispered back. As if to prove that point you used his foreleg claw to slice your suit open at the crotch, smearing his fur with the seed he’d left dripping from your cunt. He shuddered a little at the reminder.

‘All yours. It’s just… It’ll calm him down, it’ll calm me down, and he’ll have to obey you. I’ll let you be in control of what he does. I think, that might calm you down, too.’

Mig glanced down at the little sticky white strings hanging between his fur and your inner thighs. He fixated on them as he tried to think through the haze of heat, through the violent throbbing pulsing of his cock.

The more he dwelled on the idea, the more it fascinated him. It felt deeply perverse but in this state it was feeding his pleasure. He was disgusting and horrified at the idea of you mating with his variant, or of being affectionate with anyone else, but what you suggested? Using him like a toy to bring him right down to your level, to humble him completely, keeping him in your joint good graces so he never messed with him again? It fed right into his need to assert dominance.

It was tempting. As was the idea of seeing you so desperate, so horny, all while taking his seed alone, it sent a little shiver up his spine. His abdomen rustled.

‘Mm… I will, be in control?’ Mig asked. You nodded.

‘And… you are, mine?’ he repeated. You nodded harder.

‘All yours’ you whined. ‘All, all yours. Always.’

Mig purred again. He let out a low clicking noise before raising his head, and with a neutral expression he gestured for Miguel to approach with one claw. Miguel obeyed.

‘You do not mate with them’ the great spider barked. ‘That is my right only. You do not touch this—’ he paused to gesture at your chest, your clit, and your entrance, ‘Or this, or this. They are mine. You will not speak nor receive any words of affection beyond appreciation for their- hospitality. That is for me alone. You will stand still, and obey, and they’ll do what they want with you. Understand?’

Miguel curled his lips. He seemed aggravated still that he had to tilt his head back to speak with his counterpart, but the need to be touched kept him rooted to the spot. ‘Yes, sir’ he grunted with a crack of his knuckles.

Mig purred. Their eyes glowered in the dark of the den. ‘Good’ he noted. ‘Then, mi arañita, you may show me what you want.’  

You were shaking with anticipation as you nodded up at him. ‘O-Okay. Just—if, if anything bothers you, let me know, okay?’

Mig paused and admired how affectionate your gaze was, how big your eyes looked peering up at him from your precious position, bound and pinned on the bed by his huge hands. ‘Of course’ he purred. ‘Of course. Mi arañita.’

You nodded to Mig before letting him mount you from behind, instead turning your own focus to Miguel. ‘C-Come here’ you panted.

He approached with a slightly curled lip, seemingly annoyed that he had to take orders, but despite his cold face you could see his cock straining beneath his suit. The hologram was sparking at the tip with how hard it was trying to burst forth.

He stopped in front of your face, barely an inch from your lips.

‘You… Are you—a-ah!’ You squeaked and jolted as Mig tore your suit aside, leaving you completely naked. You could feel his tip probing at your cunt, smearing you with pre-cum. Miguel’s eye twitched as he fought not to show he arousing he found your pathetic, needy display.

‘Are you, ready?’ you asked. Miguel looked down at your wide, hot, pleading face, and for the first time, he looked almost shy. He slowly nodded.

You gestured for him to lower his suit. Miguel did so silently, his eyes fixated on your face as you waited impatiently. He waved away the suit at his groin, and you watched as his hefty cock fell free in front of your face. You squeaked at the sight.

You weren’t exactly surprised by the size. He was clearly huge, veiny and uncut, but you’d been rather ruined by Mig’s extraordinary size and structure. His plush, soft, squishy phallus was unmatched.

You were shocked just because you were seeing it at all. What a filthy thing to do. Part of you still wondered if this was wrong, if this was a good idea, but your brain had been melted by lust until it was all that remained.

As Mig angled himself and began coyly puncturing your cunt with just the tip of his cock, you widened your lips into a wet, inviting little circle.

Miguel swallowed hard. He put one finger beneath your chin and slowly moved in, letting his member sit upon your lips. He seemed afraid that at any moment he’d be bitten.

You let out a moan and started to tongue him. He tasted unnervingly different to Mig, clean but slightly sweaty with a faint metallic tinge lingering on the skin from his holographic suit. You flicked on the tip and let his pre-cum smear your tongue. Thick, warm, just a little sweet.

‘Ay, Dios mio’ Miguel whimpered. The stoic monster was already submitting.

You swirled your tongue around his member and gingerly started to suck on him. Immediately, your eyes rolled back into your skull. God it felt so good. You strained for more, hungrily trying to lap at his shaft. His hand flew to your head.

‘Ah, perfecto/a—’

Miguel groaned out loud only for Mig to hiss in his face, instinctively drawing Miguel to hiss back. You had to buck your hips to settle the two down.

‘You—you do as he says’ you panted up at Miguel. He glanced down and eyed up your face in turn, noting the way you were trembling and jolting with each gentle thrust from your partner. The sight made him weak. He swallowed his pride and ducked his head.

‘Yes, sir’ he murmured.

Mig purred low as he pumped himself inside you. He made Miguel wait as punishment, forced to watch you mewl and whimper as the wet sound of your copulation filled the air, but after seeing how horny you were he relented. Mig gestured for Miguel to continue before letting out his own low groan of satisfaction as he pushed in deep.

Miguel grunted and spread his legs for stability. He put his thumb on your smooth, wet lower lip, and slowly pulled it down. He eased your jaw open before pushing his cock towards you.

You tensed up, hard, and caught his eye as he pushed it in. You felt his cock enter your mouth and audibly whined.

He let out a sound like he was being strangled. The pure, inescapable relief, it was overwhelming. Fuck, he was inside your mouth. He was being touched. He was fucking something.

He started to move the moment he felt the velvety lining of your mouth squishing his shaft.

So soft. So wet. Your tongue moving back and forth on the base of his shaft, combined with the soft sucking motion of your lips and throat, it made him want to cry. That big man was reduced to an absolute mess.

His clawed hands flew to your head for stability, but a hiss from Mig forced them back. He put his hands behind his head and internally strained to stay standing as you sucked on him. ‘A-Ah—so, so soft, so soft—'

‘Soft’ Mig repeated. He was fully inside your cunt now, his cock squishing back and forth against your walls as they quivered and clenched. His entire abdomen was bucking hard with each thrust, and the motion was unintentionally pushing you back and forth along Miguel’s shaft.

You were truly spit roasted between the two, penetrated on both sides by those enormous men who could both break your back with ease.

Fuck, it felt so good. This was heaven, and every bodily fluid involved here was your mana.

As you sucked on Miguel, you felt his hips starting to move of their own accord. He started to gingerly pump your throat. He wasn’t as big as Mig, but he was still so much more powerful than you, so rough and strong. You caught his abs tensing as he willed himself not to cum too fast.

He moved one hand from his head to your chin so he could feel it moving in your throat. Your eyes unintentionally locked.

You still retained your distaste for the man, and his smug little groans were grating, but there was something really pleasurable about having him fuck your mouth. You kind of liked submitting to him. You kind of liked this asshole getting his way, especially like this.

As he watched you his lips parted. ‘You like that?’ he whispered, smugly flashing a fang. You moaned in response.

‘Yeah, they like it’ Miguel breathed.

‘Mm… Good arañita’ Mig purred. ‘Are you having fun, mi tesoro? Do you feel better?’

You moaned louder, your cunt unintentionally clenching him tight. Mig’s deep groan resonated through the entire den. ‘A-Ah-- Tú eres el major, aranita. Ah… Is that small thing giving you a mouthful at least?’

His subtle jab made Miguel hiss, but he was quickly humbled once more. Mig withdrew his shaft about halfway out just to measure up against him, forcing Miguel to see the sheer size of that plush red cock dripping in pearly slick. You whined and bucked your hips, begging for him to put it back, and with a smug grunt Mig returned to pumping.

Miguel bit back his desire to bite the man’s throat. He wasn’t used to being the smaller man.

He relented to just being grateful he was being touched. No matter what, he got to fuck your mouth. He got to watch your bratty, difficult little face while you sucked his cock, mewling and moaning submissively, and that was truly enough.

He did a little test by pulling out, and sure enough you whimpered and strained to get it back. He pulled out inch by inch, until just that sweet, curved member was resting on your lips, and only when you pleaded did he slide it back in.

‘Ah… there you go’ he murmured smugly. ‘There you go. I’ll give you what you want.’

He didn’t need to breed you. He just needed you to beg once. He needed to be wanted.

In this messy, tense threesome you all continued to indulge. Miguel remained rigidly still as you played with his cock, coyly sucking and stroking and teasing as you wanted, while Mig pumped in and out of your pussy.

Your home was saturated with a musk so thick you could almost see it, taste it. You were drowning in the smell of sex, the taste of skin and cum, and the obscene soundscape of your own body being ravaged while you choked on Miguel’s shaft.

The tension just kept growing. You were losing all higher thought, dumbifying yourself to be their little breedable catch, relishing in the submission. It had, somehow, breached the divide between the two men, as they fixated solely on you and your pleasure.

At one point Mig pulled out just so he could lift your hips to his mouth and slather you with his affectionate tongue, eagerly lapping at your swollen clit as you continued sucking on Miguel. Your moans vibrated through his soul.

‘Mm.. Tengo un hambre de lobos, arañita. Quiero comerte’ Mig purred between licks. When you bucked your hips for more he chuckled. ‘Mm. Do you like that, mi tesoro?’

Your reply was muffled by Miguel’s cock, but he replied for you. ‘They—mm, they said—y-yes’ he grunted.

Mig paused. An intrusive thought filled his head, and while it disgusted him at first, his hormones pushed him to ask. ‘They… How do they feel?’ he purred.

Miguel whimpered. ‘Ah… a-amazing’ he confessed. ‘So… fucking, amazing—’

Mig rustled with perverse excitement. He began to raise himself back up, his enormous phallus throbbing and twitching in the cold air. He turned and curiously watched you moaning and deep throating Miguel as he slowly pushed his cock back inside you. He watched you squirm, your hips shifting and adjusting to the size, your hands tearing at the sheets as you screamed.

He let out a little rustle of satisfaction.

‘Would you prefer to be sucking on me, arañita?’ he asked, emphasising each word with a slow thrust. You nodded aggressively.

Miguel felt his stomach drop a little at the embarrassment, but Mig wasn’t finished.

‘Are you having fun though, mi tesoro? With your new toy?’ he asked.

Again, you nodded aggressively, your lips widening as you slathered Miguel from base to tip. You allowed your saliva to hang and drip from his veiny cock down onto the silk below.

Miguel almost whined out loud. That’s what he needed. Fuck, it was humiliating, but it was so worth it.

He could be a toy. He could be your toy. He gripped the back of his head and started pumping into your throat again.

‘A-Ah… F-Fuck, I’m—close—’

To his own personal disgust, he looked at you and Mig for permission to cum. You nodded eagerly at the idea, and Mig simply waved his hand. He was too busy riding out his own pleasure to care right now; he was on the verge of cumming inside you, of filling your womb with his hot seed, he didn’t care about that pathetic toy squirting in your mouth.

Miguel sighed with relief as he was given assent. He grabbed your head and started thrusting hard.

‘F-Fuck, oh— más duro, haz que me corra—!’

Miguel came violently, unloading god knows how much pent up cum into your throat. You took it all with nothing but a shocked squeak.

He grabbed and pulled your hair as he slathered your mouth and gullet with that thick load. It slid down hard, and you were forced to swallow the entire time he pumped to stop it overflowing.

And then, right as you were choking on Miguel’s seed, Mig ejaculated inside you. You were thrown between them like a rag doll, like a true little cum dumpster, filled from every angle. Mig thrust hard to paint your cervix with his seed which pushed you forward onto Miguel’s shaft.

It was too much. Even without outside stimulation you managed to shudder into your own brutal orgasm. You clenched Mig so hard he rasped at the feeling, your little body shaking and spasming with pleasure. Your screams were muffled by Miguel’s shaft, but he felt your throat vibrating.

‘Good—good arañita, that’s it’ Mig panted frantically. ‘Good, good little arañita, that’s it. You enjoy yourself.’

When they’d both emptied themselves they slowed and slowly pulled out, leaving you to collapse into the sheets. You were immediately showered with kisses and praise from Mig while Miguel fell to his knees.

He was euphoric. The man almost fell into a full prayer position as he lulled in the sweet relief you’d offered.

You expected that to be it. You’d quelled the beast, you’d achieved a kind of stalemate. But it wasn’t over.

As you lay back and let Mig continue his gentle aftercare, you began to realize that the heat hadn’t passed. It was still in your veins. You continued whining, mewling, wiggling your hips for attention. The two men could feel that brief emptiness beginning to build up again.

It was as if there was a pressure inside their bodies that they had to expel, that they needed to unload into you. It was painful, weighty, a physical need.

The more sweet, wet little noises escaped your mouth, the more they seemed to involuntarily converge on you. You felt Mig at your back gently rustling his abdomen, and you felt Miguel starting to crawl towards your front. You felt their breath on your skin, their hungry eyes gawking.

You were spread out before them, naked and warm, your body coated in little beads of sweat. They could see the pearly strings of slick between your thighs.  It was glistening, smooth. You must be so wet by now.

The tension peaked, like a jar teetering on the edge of a table. The two Miguel’s locked eyes.

The jar fell, and it smashed. They dove at you.

This time there was some snapping and scratching, some territorial hissing as you were tugged back and forth, but your desperate whining and their new-found pack dynamic helped to soothe their instinctive need to fight. Instead, you were grabbed and squished between the two of them at once.

‘Help me prepare them’ Mig barked, and Miguel obeyed.

Miguel held your hips as Mig spread your legs, lifting you up until you were in the right spot for penetration. They used Miguel’s webbing to hang you from the roots above, maintaining your weight in the air, and Mig used his sticky webs to keep your legs stuck to his abdomen. He trapped you in a bondage tie against him, just like when he’d soaked in you, and Miguel used his hands to hold your torso as he positioned himself at your back.

You felt Mig as he forced his cock back up inside you, squishing your overstimulated muscles aside, while Miguel began prepping against your ass. He used his webs to drag over a pot of that pain relieving gel you’d been prescribed. He smeared it over his entire shaft, so thick it dripped off the tip, and with a soft grunt he began lining himself up with your anus.

You let out a soft gasp. You were being distracted by Mig who was already busy slowly moving inside you, so you only barely noticed Miguel’s member probing at your rear. But he didn’t tease for long.

‘Can I—Can I penetrate, here, sir?’ Miguel panted. Mig nodded, clearly too preoccupied with breeding you to care. As you whimpered in their grip Miguel pressed his lips against your neck.

‘May I fuck you, little spider?’ he hissed.

‘Y-Yes.’

‘Has anyone fucked you here before?’ he whispered. Embarrassed, you shook your head.

‘N-No.’

‘Okay. Don’t freak out. I need you, to stay still for me’ Miguel murmured in your ear. ‘Stay still, and try to loosen up’ he purred, before pumping himself inside you.

You immediately tensed up at the sensation. You had to fight to loosen for him, even with that much lube, as his cock’s size was suddenly very noticeable. He forced your muscles to make room from him.

‘MM—mm, that’s it, that’s it, come on—’

He bottomed out with a desperate growl, his claws digging deep into your hips.

You felt everything. The sweat on his abs where they’d pressed into your spine, his muscular hairy thighs against your own, his heavy balls crushed against your ass, and his shaft, gently throbbing inside you. A desperate whimper escaped your lips.

You realized, in your lust, you’d just given your anal virginity to him. Miguel’s groaning let you know that he’d noticed that too. ‘F-Fuck… Fuck, so fucking tight—’

You gasped as his breath hit your neck. You could smell the hunger on him, the desperation, and the allure.

This stupid little spider, this whiny brat, now giving him a taste of what he’d craved for so long. He breathed in your scent and trembled; what a stupidly adorable little thing, he thought. Part of him just wanted to praise you, to berate you, to worship you.

But that part of him was quickly pushed aside. The higher mind was subdued, and all that remained was pure, primal, animal lust. He started to rut the moment he was settled inside you.

‘Uhn—f-fuck, finally—’

His voice peaked as he started thrusting. You felt the power in his hips as they started clapping you from behind, pulsing in and out of that tight hole. The feel of your ass bouncing each time he hit it made him almost weep.

‘Ah—c-careful, please’ you begged.

‘Mm—must, breed you’ he whined. Mig paused and hissed at him again, and this time Miguel willingly backed down. His lust was malforming, adapting to his subservient role just to feed itself.

‘Yes, sir’ he whined. ‘You breed them, sir.’

‘Good’ Mig snapped. He continued humping between your legs as Miguel gently thrust at you from behind. ‘They’re mine.’

The glow of their conjoined gaze was blinding. Red light pulsing in your vision as they skewered you, pumped you, smearing every inch of you with precum and sweat.

‘You want me to breed you, arañita?’ Mig purred.

‘Fuck- breed them good’ Miguel groaned. You felt Mig grasp your jaw in his hand.

‘You were made for O’Hara cum’ he hissed, utterly lost to pleasure. ‘You were made to be stuffed with these genes, arañita. My perfect mate. I want you saturated with it.’

‘You—craved it so much, you couldn’t stand having just one, huh?’ Miguel hissed in tandem, letting out a breathy laugh. You could feel them both crushing you from the front and back as they rhythmically pumped. You were small, helpless, frail between them. You rasped with each shaky moan.

‘Mi arañita’ Mig purred, ‘you sure you don’t want me to breed you for real?’

‘They want to be bred’ Miguel panted. You felt his lips near your neck, his claws on your hips. ‘They need it. I can smell it in them. Their body wants it.’

In the hazy mist of pure degeneracy the two men dissolved into moaning, thrusting animals, grunting and desperately kissing across your face and neck. Mig bent forward to tenderly brush his tongue against your own while Miguel nibbled and kissed your shoulder from behind.

They snapped at each other occasionally, but now even that was a form of sexual gratification. Miguel had lost all boundaries, and he was willing to be the beta if it meant he could vicariously breed you. They had the same DNA, after all, and he was still pumping you regardless.

He’d snap just to get Mig to bare his larger, more terrifying fangs, all for the thrill of backing down.

And you, in the middle, were struggling to even breath. You were being pulverised from both ends, stretched to your limits and fucked until it was all you could feel. Your legs had gone numb, your hands were tingling with pins and needles, and all you could focus on was the two, veiny, weighty cocks twitching and pulsing against your guts.

There was no coming back from this.

‘Can’t- believe, I get to breed with you’ Mig whined. ‘Perfect little spider—’

‘Let—let me take off the patch’ Miguel breathed. Mig purred loudly, his abdomen shaking with excitement. ‘Yes’ he panted, ‘yes, they need breeding properly.’

You squirmed between the two men as they crushed you. They both had elated, almost ravenous expressions, their lips drawn back into the same desperate, dreamlike smile.

‘W-Wait— Mmm, fuck—’

Your face was sweaty from their conjoined breath and the toll this constant movement was taking on your body, and you were struggling to get any word out.

‘We’re gonna breed you, pretty little thing’ Miguel purred, his voice husky as he blurted his most perverse thoughts. ‘Little brood mare, time to grow an O’Hara in you.’

‘F-Fuck—’ You squirmed harder and screamed with pleasure as they both continued to erratically pump you. They were feeding into each other’s delusional fantasies.

‘Mm—Arañita, don’t you want it?’

You were losing your mind like this. There was nothing but them, nothing but their pleading, nothing but the thick, primal drive between the three of you. You felt yourself going dumb.

‘Ah… y-yes’ you blurted.

‘You want to be bred?’

‘Y-Yes’

‘You want my cum in you, arañita?’

‘Y-Yes!’

‘MM—Fuck, give it to them’ Miguel snapped. ‘Fucking pump them—’

‘Oh I will’ Mig panted. ‘Come here, you beautiful little creature—’

The two started thrusting harder, rhythmically rocking your body back and forth between their own. You were totally crushed into stillness, your body moving without any input from you, leaving you to feel in perfect detail what they were about to do.

You could feel them pulsing in and out together, separated by the thinnest bit of skin, nudging at your insides as they quivered from the overstimulation. You could that your thighs were completely sodden at this point. You were dripping with slick, with cum, with pain relief gel, even with sweat, to the point that you looked like you’d just exited a pool.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. You clung tight to Mig as he cradled and fucked you.

‘Shh, shh, here we go—here we go—you just take it, mi tesoro, that’s it, just take it—’

‘F-Fuck I’m close—’ Miguel cried.

In near unison the two men ejaculated inside you.

It was far too much for you to handle, but luckily they were in tune enough with your body and hormones to sense that. Miguel had the sense to pull out and keep only the tip inside you, instead pumping his cock with his own fist as he spurted each thick rope into that tight space.

Mig, too, pulled back a little to make room, and supplied you with short, gentle bursts as each squirt of seed pulsed up through his shaft. You were filled, yes, but not so much as to be unbearable. You were allowed to lull and enjoy the feeling of each fat cock gently expanded and throbbing that warm, soothing seed inside you. You could enjoy their joint, frantic breath on your skin, their pitiable whining and grateful kisses.

Once utterly spent the two pulled out slowly and cut the webs, allowing you to go back down to the mattress. Mig stayed with you, your body safe and cradled in his arms, while Miguel collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

The man fought to catch his breath. It felt as if every scrap of energy he had was gone, but as the fog on his brain cleared, he scraped together what willpower he could to glance at you across the bed. He noticed the patch was still in place.

‘Oh, thank, fuck—you idiot’ he whispered beneath his breath, letting out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t fucked up that badly.

At this point the heat had truly been subdued. He could feel the emptiness at last, the relief of that weight lifted from his shoulders. For all the weird, conflicted feelings he had about what he’d just done, the sheer relief trumped them all. He’d have done so much worse just for this. The feeling of being empty, of having mated, it was all he wanted. He lay back and closed his eyes.

On the other side, Mig was busy nestling your cheek. He was focused on keeping you comfortable, ensuring you smelled healthy and weren’t in any pain. He kissed your jaw and nestled into your hair, and in response you shakily put your hand on his cheek.

‘I-I’m okay’ you whispered. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure, arañita?’

‘Y-Yeah. I’m sure.’

You went quiet for a moment as you nuzzled each other, showing through affectionate that you were both okay and on good terms. His human hands pet at your waist, rubbing you with his calloused thumb, while his sharp nose nestled against your brow.

‘You are… mine?’ he whispered. You nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’m yours, Mig. Always. Are you, okay?’

He nodded as well, his lips still parted as he panted. ‘Y-Yes. Yes, I think so.’

‘Are… are you sure?’

You couldn’t deny that part of you felt a little guilty for what you’d asked them to do, even if they’d gotten into it. It was strange. You felt like you shouldn’t have done it, but it’d felt so good it was hard to understand why you felt that way.

Mig hummed and looked from you to Miguel.

The man wasn’t making any moves towards you. He was laying on his back, breathing in the relief.  

As strange as it was, he did feel like he’d found some state of resolution. They were both satisfied finally, which had by itself eased a large amount of the tension between them. He had, technically, followed orders. He had even broken and supported his desire to mate with you.

It hadn’t solved everything, but seeing Miguel wallow in acknowledgment of his hypocrisy, to have had him bow his head and support you both so strongly as to have participated in your copulation, it was definitely a start.

It still felt a little tense, and undoubtedly awkward now that the thrill was done, but it didn’t feel bad, and perhaps right now that was the best they could ask for.

Miguel must have noticed him looking, as he slowly opened one eye. The two locked gazes.

‘Ah…. Hey. Thank you’ Miguel said. Mig’s eyes widened. He seemed too surprised to even give a reply, so Miguel just let out a breathy chuckle.

‘I can think. Finally, fuck, I can think clearly.’

‘You… This doesn’t mean—’

‘I know. They’re yours’ Miguel said, easily catching Mig’s main concern. The spider growled. ‘I know they don’t want me, and I don’t need them. It’s fine. I just—I needed to stop that, fucking, pain—’

He ran a hand down his face as Mig’s eyes darted across his body. Bit by bit, he lessened the tension in his body. He didn’t need to fight.

‘It is… quite, painful. I still recall very well my seasonal ruts when I was isolated, it was… agony’ Mig replied, offering a branch of sympathy. Miguel took it with a similarly cold grunt. ‘It is… awful. Yeah.’ His eyes turned then from Mig to you, locking onto your exhausted eyes. For just a second, they looked soft.

‘Thank you’ he repeated. You just awkwardly nodded. How else did you respond? It was so strange, just lying in the bedroom beside this man you’d hated, who’s cum was now sliding in pretty streaks down your back after being pumped into your ass.

You caught him admiring your body for a moment, but you saw no hunger in him. He wasn’t starving for you. All you could make out was a kind of quiet gratitude, and maybe a little physical attraction.

‘Ah… Okay. I should go’ Miguel said. He rose to his feet with a couple of stumbling steps before phasing his suit back on, covering up any evidence of what he’d done.

‘You—you’ll still help us, right?’ you asked. Miguel nodded without turning his head.

‘Yes. I don’t lie. I stand by my word. Just, uh—avoid me, please, until your heats over. You could, set me off again, and… I like being satisfied, right now. I want to keep this.’

With those final words he drew up a portal and left you Mig’s aftercare, stepping back out into the cool dusk of Nueva York. He breathed in the empty, city air and sighed.

He wasn’t sure how he’d react. Now out of that haze, that mist, would be guilty? Angry? Unsatisfied? Jealous?

No. He just smiled a little to himself, and then made his way back inside. For now, at least, he was truly satisfied.

Link to next part

[syndrossi]

Had a thought for an AU. Resonant Daemon wakes up in the Regnal verse. After he has been elevated over Viserys due to the twins fireproofness. And Otto Hightower is there at court trying to insert his daughter as a future honeytrap but being faced with the future king's utter loathing of him😅

Wow, what a head trip for Resonant!Daemon. Let's examine the situation:

His father is alive and king? 🥹 Purest of joy.

He's his father's heir? And there's some kind of prophecy? (This is where he puts together what Viserys has been withholding in Resonant and he's furious that his brother didn't trust him enough with matters concerning his sons' future.)

He's still married to Rhea Royce, who is affectionate toward him? What is this madness? And these are her children this time?

Their naaaaames are wrong! But also he's maybe a little secretly happy since it's what he would have named them originally. He slips up sometimes, to everyone's confusion. Since Jon does go by his "Jon" nickname due to Baelon being alive, that's a least a little more familiar.

Otto's gotta go. He can convince his father on this, he's certain. Especially once he notices the resentment Otto's trying to provoke in Viserys.

It's so strange interacting with Viserys? He's been under his power so long, their dynamic one of king and distrusted brother-subject, that it's a difficult adjustment. And his brother has his health, and doesn't seem so burdened. He doesn't know how to shake him and explain to him that this is truly better.

Aemma is alive. Daemon arranges many joint suppers to enjoy her company, because he missed her.

He'd forgotten what it's like to be 22 and injury-free. Nothing hurts or aches.

Daemon has literally zero time for Alicent shenanigans. At least Rhea seems to be loyal enough, even if he has no idea what to do with her.

Caraxes knows something's weird/different.

Daemon being WTF about Volantis being buddy-buddy with the Iron Throne. He knows they're up to something.

His FATHER. Is ALIVE. Bears repeating.

Daemon doesn't know if he wants the crown now, which feels like the height of irony. He's seen what it did to Viserys. We'll see if Baelon wears it gracefully enough to convince him.

His sons aren't babies (drat!) but they're still 5, which is quite little! And huh, guess Jon just IS that intense about arms training. He and Rhaegar being so insistent about starting their training at five is adorable.

Qelebrys and Shadow are HUGE, wtf.

...the list goes on for while lol

[justatypicalwizard]

Weave your own web, my prince

BNHA royal au x reader ❥⋰ Another marital season bears down Katsuki's shoulders. His mother tortures him with a new guard - one that will follow each and every step the prince takes. Soon Katsuki decides, it's time to act on his responsibilities and decides his target will be the guard. Tons of royals flush the corridors of the Bakugo castle, among others Shoto - the Todoroki prince on the make. What will come out of their rivalry? Will Katsuki be able to break out of his mothers web of plans and schemes? Will he be able to claim what he desires or will it run through his fingers? ❥⋰ Reader is referred to as Cat. Word count: 16k ❥⋰ I just want to say I had so much fun writing this piece. I really tried to elevate my language and make something fun. I hope you find it entertaining!

Katsuki hated Spring with all of his heart. He loved the new life peeking out of every corner, he loved the birds that came from far lands with new stories to croak about, he loved the fresh air saturated with the scent of juicy grass and wildflowers. Katsuki hated Spring because Spring meant courting season, the awful marital hunt.

The young, and only, son of queen Mitsuki and king Masaru attained a position on the grand bachelor and maiden list as soon as his 15th Spring approached and has been on it since. Despite the weight of the crown bearing hard on the prince’s temples he refused to find a wife each and every year. The queen was on the verge of forcing someone on him. On March nights Mitsuki cursed at her son’s undeniable masculinity. It would be easier if he was a girl.

The martial aspect of Spring pricked at his side like a thorn but there were other nuisances. It was a time when not only did you have to stand up to your enemies, you also had to let them into your home. Trains of carriages and caravans climb up the steep hill road leading into the Bakugo lands. The castle swole with lace, silk, gossip and scheme. It was full of two-faced ministers, greedy lords, gasping matrons and pale princesses.

Katsuki wondered whether he preferred to travel abroad for courting or let that multitude inside his own stone and gem walls. At least the army was here, some units preparing as if for war. Units like his mothers personal guards.

Day and night, Summer or Winter these soldiers run at top speed, and at top secrecy. They were always in the corner, lingering to the queen like a shadow, flat and easy to miss. Katsuki was supposed to build his own unit such as this, pull it together, brick by brick from desperate, lonely and crazy, ones that would sacrifice their life in the name of loyalty and gratitude. Ones that would sparkle at his side like gems in his crown. Ones that would slice throats without even a blink at his single word. That was, of course, a massive exaggeration but the queen made sure to give him this lecture every time a new rumour could be heard about the assassin known as Denki flirting with a cook or when the archiver and historian girl Mina messed up a few very important dates in the chronicle of Katsuki’s life. At least Kirishima was reliable.

Katsuki stomped towards his mother’s writing room in her open-for-guests chambers. The guests took off and it was once more high time to try to persuade him. Names and oil paintings were hung up in the representative corridors leading to the ballroom. Small noses, corseted waists and absent eyes that gazed up into the sky peeking out through the grand windows. All of these seasons maidens presented like cattle on a Sunday village market. Soon bachelors would accompany the lonely girls on the other side of the hallway.

The angry boy slowed down, his boots finally giving the echo of the corridor a break. Slick black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Diamonds scattering the crown of her head, packed onto a delicate silver web, signalling her worth but also painfully reminding of the lack of a real queens’ crown. At least it matched her eyes.

Yaoyorozu was one of the candidates for Katsuki. Despite her mathematical calmness and chin raised to touch the sky, she fumed every time she saw him. The Yaoyorozu family lacked a crow but swam in wealth. Their banks held and operated on the riches of the neighbourhood kingdom making them important players on the royal courts.

Lord Yaoyorozu tried his luck with the family of his own king but with poor results. Many princes adorned the king’s right hand but none of them would marry with someone of a lower status. At least that’s what they officially said. Next on the list was Katsuki who also refused to take Momo Yaoyorozu. The girl was beautiful, smart and wealthy, but it all meant nothing as her father’s ambitions were too high for her crystal-heel-clad feet.

Another portrait that stung Katsuki’s eyes was yet to be hung. He huffed, a short pathetic laugh. What an irony that the cheeky round face that poked through the messily scattered cloth lay beneath Momo. Someone should quickly gather this portrait or else whatever commoner left this will be punished for offence to a highborn.

Uraraka, a princess well known for Katsuki, smiled cheekily from the frame. Another candidate, this time a real princess. Such a pity her royal family had less funds than the Yaoyorozu. A pity for her, a blessing for Katsuki. She was being held as an option courtesy of friendship rather than position.

Leaving the lifeless faces Katsuki wondered which girl had it worse, which was scattered around more. The wealthy but unprivileged lady or the poor but accepted princess. One thing he knew, he would pick none of them.

Three knocks were enough to be welcomed by his mother. She seemed to be alone in the room. Bookshelves that once were mighty oaks bent under the weight of thousands of books, chronicles and registers. Rugs secured the stone floor giving the room a warmer touch, just as Mitsuki liked. Despite a rather early hour candle flames glistered and twitched around the desk, trapped in glass lanterns. Little daylight was allowed through the narrow windows, always leaving the room in a state of half-shadow.

Katsuki knew that in these elaborately planned out shadows figures lingered in defence of his mother. The prince felt the presence right now but he knew better than to comment on it. Those ears will hear everything but speak of nothing.

“So glad you made it that quick.” The queen turned slightly in her rich chair to face him. The old and well-used wood cracked slightly, though the quiet of the room made it seem like thunder.

“Stop tip-toeing around it and tell me what you have to, old hag.” Katsuki knew what this conversation would be about, he guessed what the bulky volumes in front of his mother were - genealogical trees of high families. It was the same every year.

“Fine. I command you to pick a wife this season. You know the old candidates but there are a few new ones worth taking a look at.” She proceeded to open the book but her son’s harsh voice left her only grazing the cover.

“You can command your little chess pieces of soldiers around, not me. I will not take any of these fake, trained pushovers.” His resistance was hardy.

“You know your responsibilities as a male, and only, heir to the throne. It gets more dangerous each year.” Always the same. Katsuki had enough of it.

“You and dad don’t look like you’re gonna drop dead any moment, which is a pity.” He snarled at his mother like a kid throwing a tantrum - which in fact he was. “I will secure the family line just-” The fierceness of his voice lost its momentum. “Just when I find the right person.”

Did he just admit to his mother that he believed in love? Did he believe in love? He thought about it every Spring, what was it that he was looking for. The princesses were obviously not a match for him because they were all a lifeless mass of similar faces, similar gowns, similar smiles. They were taught to be interested in you, to abide by every need and want, to not ask questions but at the same time to demand the best, tastiest, wealthiest and most luxurious. Katsuki did not wish to play this game. Was he really looking for someone who will make his heart skip a beat? Might as well try.

“Anything else?” He walked around the room grabbing objects and examining them, anything to look away from the disappointed mother in the centre. She sighed.

“Yes. Because of the situation at Todoroki’s I decided to have two of my personal guards watching over you. They have a schedule and will follow your steps for the next months, as long as this farce will take.” Now this, this was new.

Mother was letting two of her dogs off leash. Both excited and annoyed, Katsuki gave her a questioning look. He moved towards her desk, and pushing his abdomen hard into the edge he looked down on his mother. Or so he thought.

“Don’t try to order them around, they already know what to do and they will not abide by a single need of yours.” Though sitting lower she was still looming over him, her shadow longer than his, extended by two additional people.

Finally, he got why she decided such a thing. It was not to keep him safe, it was to make him miserable, push him to his limit and make him succumb to her wants. Who knows what these people will do or how much they will foist themselves on him. Katsuki felt a hand creep up on his throat and ball into a vice grip, suffocating him. He also knew that he will peel those fingers off one by one.

“Meet your daytime guard. Then leave.” Mitsuki gestured to a woman who grew out of the shadow behind her chair.

Katsuki looked the intruder in the eye and let out a short huff, turning on his heel and leaving the writing room in a sour mood.

A few mornings and evenings later Katsuki figured out a bit more about the strange duo following him around. The woman was there during the day while the bulky man with dark wavy hair and a scar on his face guarded his person at nightime. They changed in the evening and morning without much talk.

Those past days the young prince tried to ignore the presence but it became overwhelming, always hearing additional steps behind you. This and the preparation for hosting the ass clapping festival as Katsuki liked to title it.

The castle changed into a busy anthill with servants-ants running back and forth, carrying anything from bouquets to wooden tables all around the place. The prince was needed here and there for very important business such as fitting fancy costumes, giving his opinion on a flower arrangement or signing fifty greeting letters that will be left on the nightstands of the guests’ beds. In simple words, Katsuki had enough.

“Your highness, you are needed in the fitting room.” Shall the white, laced blouses be damned.

Maids jumped around his partially undressed form as they tried to baste a rich red robe around his torso. The loose scraps of material and pins scratched at his skin leaving red marks and giving Katsuki a scowl. The air in the room was stiff and seemed to lack oxygen. The blonde was getting dizzy with all the heavy perfume and powder dancing around in the light of the candles.

“Give me more pins, I need to tighten it here.” One of the seamstresses squeaked.

“Take them yourself, I can’t move right now.” The other one argued

His head slumped down and a deep sigh escaped his lips. How much longer will this take?

“Excuse me. The prince is needed for his evening duties.” A new voice made an interruption.

“We were promised the price will be available today. This fitting was due for a few days.” One of the working women bickered while resting hands on her hips.

“Well, your time has passed.”

The half finished robe was pulled down Katsuki’s arms and shoved into a terrified maid's hands. The prince felt a small hand on the back of his arm. The fingers were so tiny, yet they quickly clasped down in a vice grip, pulling him out of the stuffy fitting room and out into the cold corridor.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” He did not even mind who forced him outside. The preparations, the long days of doing absolute shit, the constant feeling of being watched even in his sleep, Katsuki was too fed up to care.

“Nothing. Or maybe a walk outside would be refreshing if you ask me.”

The prince finally looked up at his companion. It was no one other than the guard woman following him around. She was propped up the corridor wall, arms crossed on her chest, looking out of the window on the ground below.

“Is there something wrong, your highness? Do you wish to go back to the fitting room? You looked rather displeased there and the seamstresses did take their time, didn’t they?” The girl asked with a raised brow.

“Did you really just pull me out of there and lie to them?”

“Are you unhappy with that?”

“Not even a bit. Let’s go outside.”

The evening breeze was refreshing, like a cold shower after a good workout. Katsuki and the guard strolled the park outside of the castle. It was a maze of high hedges, fancy bushes and ponds. The long path led to the grand lake far at the back. The further they got from the castle, the easier it was to mistake the small lights in the windows with stars in the sky. It was peaceful here, sleepy.

“If you wish to know, the name is Cat, my prince.” The guard, Cat, opened her mouth without warning, breaking the melodic tune of night critters.

“Cat is your real name?” He questioned with a brow raised over a scowl. His companion only laughed softly, speaking up no more. Of course it isn’t her name. Of course he would never learn it.

Moonlight shone down on the rich overseas rug giving the warm colours a cold tune. Gold thread twisted and turned forming seemingly endless patterns. Katsuki also twisted in his fur bed sheets, unable to fall asleep. Sweat clung to his overheated body like a second skin. He has to ask for summer sheets, thin like his patience with the restless night.

Pouring himself a goblet of lukewarm water he cursed, exhaustion weighing his shoulders down. Nonetheless, he slipped a soft cotton shirt over his head, pulled on the trousers he left forgotten in the corner and took off in search of some peace in the sleeping castle. The nightguard stalking his every step.

Not finding any relief in his own chambers, Katsuki turned his steps towards his mother’s private rooms and squares. The crushing difference between what was Katsuki’s and what Mitsuki owned was a demonstration of power. Everywhere she could, the queen reminded her son that he was her property. Everywhere he was able to, Katsuki pushed back.

Right now his strategy for enraging the woman was strolling through her chambers at times he shouldn’t. He should be asleep, redying himself for a day packed to the brim with responsibilities. Instead, he opted for passing the scarce guards in silence, looking for a place that would put his nerves at ease.

Far off in the quiet wing of the castle he fished out a familiar figure.

“The fuck you doing there, sneaking around?” He calls out, his voice too loud, cutting through the quiet night like thunder.

There’s a shuffle and Cat turns around to face him fully just as Katsuki enters the square. The smell of flowers is heavy in the air, the queen’s private fruit garden oversaturated with the sweetness of spring life. Katsuki thinks, just for a second, that there’s a glimmer of panic in the guards eye, but her usual polite-jaded expression overtakes her face instantly.

“I am enjoying free time, my prince.” She bows slightly upon his arrival.

“Free time.” The blonde weighs the word on his tongue like a caramel drop. “Sounds exotic.”

“Is there anything you need, my prince?” No response, just blind civility. Noone in this castle, in this world, talked with Katsuki. They obeyed, listened and answered by not one person ever held a conversation with him. Maybe not counting the deliberately selected group of idiots that he called his party. But they are gone now, always seemingly busy during spring. The queen just wanted them away from him, so as not to give him any ideas. Friends were forbidden for a prince.

I need you to shut the fuck up and stop rubbing your free-will into my face. He wanted to shout but the memory of the fitting room, how she freed him of the constricting hands of seamstresses brought Katsuki to a halt. She had more freedom than him, she could do as she pleased when her duty hours were off. Maybe he could use it.

“I need you to speak to me as equals.” He stated, taking a step closer, entering the moonlight square.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, my prince.”

“I don’t want you to suddenly call me by my name, I just want - just talk to me for fuck’s sake.” This is embarrassing. Katsuki cursed the moon’s silver dick for shining so finely today. The pink tinting his cheeks must have been in plain sight. Something shifted in Cat’s expression, relaxation passed over her features, mingling with the usual disinterest.

“Fine.” Her steps were silent as she proceeded to a bench carved out in marble. “I’m listening then.”

“I promise this will stay between us.” The prince dropped down bluntly next to her, swinging his arm over the cool backrest of the uncomfortable bench, his other playing with the loose strings of his cotton shirt, untied, letting his chest breathe fresh night air.

“There is no such thing as a promise here, on court.”

His head whipped her way only to be met with a small smirk. So the woman could speak her mind when she wanted to.

A rich, plump flower sat next to Cat’s head. More of them scattered around the bush leaning on the marble. The one that seemed to nearly graze her cheek was big and flashy, oozing with juices that threatened to spill if you touched it ever so slightly. Katsuki found it repulsive, his mind suddenly drifting off to the thought of wetness.

He looked back, straight ahead to free himself from the shameless flower. His mother tortured him with bees and flower analogies, how he would have to find his flower someday to bear a fruit. It was one of these bushes she made him observe to understand his duty.

Katsuki shook off the nasty feeling.

“So, what do you usually do in your free time?”

“I sleep.”

From the corner of his eye the blonde followed Cat’s movement. She was interested in the flower, poking at it only to get her fingers sticky. Her displeased expression amused him.

“You’re not sleeping now.”

“That’s true.” She stood up and wandered the little maze of flowerbeds and dwarfed trees to find the fountain in the centre. Katsuki following her steps.

A figure appeared in the shadow, leaning on a pillar, watching his every move. The beast of a man, his night time guard, too loud for his own good. A string of curses left Katsuki’s lips. He wasn’t allowed any privacy.

“Cat.” She focused on him, shaking her palm, droplets of water flying in the air. “Switch with the other guy for the night. I want you to guard me.”

It took her a few blinks to think through his order. “And what would I have from it? I would have to be up all night.”

“The next day off. He will take your shift.” The blonde shrugged, as if it was nothing, a mere proposition of business partners too wealthy to mind a single thing. “Besides, if you really care about your rest you would be sleeping right now.” A chuckle left Cat’s lips and Katsuki felt like smiling himself. He did not succumb to the temptation.

“Well, I could use a day off. Have business to take care of.” She came closer and the prince once again thought about the flower. “Did you hear Hound? What do you think about it?”

Hound, the man with messy hair and a messy beard, messy uniform and a crystal clear, sharp look to his eyes stepped onto the square. To Katsuki, he seemed to utterly despise his position, impatience and anger dripping from his face.

“Fine by me.”

“Goodnight then.” Hound huffed at the politeness, turning his back to Katsuki after a short and forced bow, disappearing into the darkness.

“Don’t mind him, my prince, he doesn’t like anyone beside the queen.” Despite Hound’s posture the queen was the real beast here, making a person so blindly loyal.

At once Katsuki felt at ease, alone. He looked up into the sky speckled with stars so very prominent in the moon’s silvery hue. His body felt dry, the sweat of his restless tossing evaporated into the quiet night. He felt fresh and lulled, as if he could fall asleep on the uncomfortable marble bench, his guard sitting on the other side, gazing at the obnoxious flower. He would feel like a still life that hung in the dining room, unmoving and eternal. His life would be still for once, peaceful and silent.

All of it a dream that would never come true.

“What business do you have for tomorrow?” He asked as he sat on the flat surface of the fountain. Every time the light breeze flew by it scooped loose droplets from the fountain, lifting them into the air, letting them dance in the moonlight. It was one of Katsuki’s favourite places to sit as a child, the drops of water hitting his back on hot summer days.

“If I can speak to you as equal for the time being then my business is none of yours, my prince.” Harsh, he thought. He didn’t mind.

“Keep your secrets then.” He scoffed, letting one of his hands dip into the water. It was cool and for a second Katsuki craved nothing more but to tear off his clothes and sink, letting his ears fill up, muffling the sounds of the unbearable world around him. But instead he said. “Just wait until you ask me for something.”

“I would never.” Annoyance forced a scrunch on the bridge of his nose, his pretty face going all ugly. Why didn’t she want to lean on him? He was her ruler. “I would never put more burden on your shoulders, my prince.”

My prince, he was hers but she was not his. She didn’t abide by his needs because she was told to refuse. She was a soldier, a sword in his mothers long-reaching hands that would never be held by him. Her presence reminded Katsuki that he is watched, controlled. Her sharp edge was just underneath his neck, forcing him to hold his chin high, like a prince, and to always look forward, like a future king.

“Why do you have more freedom than I do, huh?” The ugliness never left his face.

“Because I'm nobody.”

“You don’t seem sad about being nobody.”

“Because I’m not.”

Anger bubbled in Katsuki’s veins, promising a night robbed of sleep, one spent twirling in his sheets, gritting his teeth together. Why was this lowborn, this nobody so very free. Why was a capitan, a special guard whose whole existence was dedicated to one painfully narrow task so full of life, so nonchalant. Why did she get to take deep breaths while he was bound to huffs and silent screams. She would never be genuine with him, she did not hold the conversation, she did not answer the questions. She did not talk to him like he wanted, needed. This was a mistake, no longer did he care if it was Hound or Cat at his door tonight. He returned to square one. 

Without another word, Katsuki stood up and left for his chambers. This time the steps following him were silent. The exotic flower leaked its juice onto the marble bench, the sweet stickiness running down to pool at the stone path. It cried silently.

Salty water kissed the shore, although it was running away. The sea wanted to override from the adorned tents and sparkish servants littering the beach. Katsuki’s brows were arched in a nasty frown as he gazed into the endless green and blue and foam, sympathising with it. He would also rather be somewhere else.

While in the castle, the whole party seemed quite peaceful, reserved, safe for a few shallow friendships that were now being brought back to life. The closer they got to the shore, the louder the multitude got. Further away from hawk-like eyes of chaperones and scrutinising queens, the youthful spirit flourished.

Looking to the right Katsuki fished out Ochaco’s round face. She was seemingly discussing some matter with a well known klutz. Oh, how Katsuki despised Midoriya. As much as Ochaco’s dusty wardrobe reminded of her rather pitiful standing in regards to wealth, Midoriya was the embodiment of her kingdom’s woes. The greenish boy was a historian, respected astronomer, mathematician was he also? Katsuki was not interested in what he was seemingly good at. His wandering eyes, never bold enough to look anyone in the face, shaking hands that drop anything they hold, stuttering voice that can’t produce one legible sentence. All that Midoriya was Katsuki hated. If not for the fact that Ochaco’s outright crush on her kingdom’s scholar kept her far from him, maybe he would even mock them.

“If you consider princess Ochaco a valuable cover for your marital affairs, my prince, I’d suggest you tell her not to touch her dear servant’s hand that often.” Capitan cat did not budge a muscle, gazing straight into the sea.

“Half of these people already know. They don’t mind ‘cause she’s not a real player anyway.” Katsuki answered, also keeping his gaze steady. He felt as if they were two predators, wild cats still in tall grass, awaiting prey on the horizon.

At the back of the tent Yaoyorozu burned holes in the back of Katsuki’s head. She sat straight like a stick. No need to hold that head up so high, no one's gonna put a crown on it either way. After a few nasty fights Katsuki knew better than to start with the queen-wannabe. It was enough that he called her princess in front of everyone.

To Momo’s right, drinking the same tea from a finely painted porcelain, sat Jiro. Katsuki pitied the dark haired girl. If not for being Momo’s personal maid, she would be a nice companion. Unfortunately, she had to listen to her lady’s venomous whispering, while also sending Katsuki glances, hers apologetic.

“The Yaoyorozu ladies must have received your letter, my prince.” Cat stated disinterested.

“Glad to hear that.” Katsuki made sure to welcome Momo with a letter clarifying that she is not on his personal list of candidates. This way he saved both of them unnecessary troubles.

Wind blew salt from over the sea, slapping the blonde’s pale cheeks. A gasp and commotion could be heard at the back of the party. A maid of honour slipped on a lace and fell face-flat onto the sand. Despite no harm caused she needed fanning, a chair and at least three people ensuring her safety.

At that moment Katsuki agreed with his mother. This didn’t happen a lot but as he looked his companion up and down he did admit, through gritted teeth, that his mother at least had taste. Cat was dressed in black. Her boots reached her lower thigh, she must have at least a few knives up there. Simple trousers with horse ride edging in the inside on her legs. A jacket, not too official, nothing that would catch unwanted attention. Under the fine, black material a white sheer blouse peaked out.

Katsuki caught her gaze, she was looking at him from the corner of her vigilant eye.

“Is everything alright, my prince.” Her stance was fine, elegant even, with knees together, head high and hands behind a straight back. She did not look like she sported a stick in her butt like Momo, but rather, like she was born to look down on others, despite being shorter than him.

Suddenly, Katsuki wanted to see her in that white blouse. The delicate material would surely dance in the breeze, as if someone draped bed sheets over a statue. Would she look less sharp without the black jacket widening her shoulders.

“Aren’t you hot in that?” It was indeed a hot, spring day.

“I am.” Cat answered with a lazy blink.

“Then take it off, the jacket.”

And she did, and Katsuki, for a moment, felt as excited, as if she was stripping naked in front of him. He was wrong and right. The material was indeed soft and loose around her, dancing in the light breeze, catching salt to scrub out later. Yet, she did not look even a slight bit softer. Her strange pupils were still in the corner of her eyes.

“Thank you, my prince, this does feel better.”

In comparison to all of the clownish servants and maids behind her back, Cat looked like an empress inspecting the sea as if it washed the shore only for her.

“Oh, Captain!” Giggles erupted behind Katsuki and the corner of his red eyes caught an intruder.

In between colourful dresses another gem in the Todoroki’s crown entertained the maids with cheap tricks. Their restless feet tiptoed to see him better. They couldn’t decide whether to look at his handsome face or glamorous crimson wings. The hybrid, the mutant, the eyes and ears of Todoroki, Capitan Hawks. Katsuki wondered how many of those drooling maids with hungry eyes knew what the man really did for a living. Behind the adorned misfit a shadow of a man, a certain Shinso.

“I’ve never seen this… maid with you before.” If not for the proximity of the man, his voice would die out in the salty wind. The Todoroki prince grew out of thin air in front of Katsuki.

Of course Shoto wouldn’t bother with a greeting, how could the ethereal prince mind something as mundane. Right now the blonde didn’t know whether he’d rather look at Hawk’s stupid tricks or at Shoto’s stoic face. Neither, if he could choose. Those two rarely came in pairs.

“Cat’s not a maid, she’s a guard.” Although he would rather sit quietly through the fact that for the last weeks he moved around with a babysitter, Katsuki felt that his captain’s rank should be highlighted in front of the Todoroki prince. If he had to move around with a her he’d at least show her off, make it seem as if she was a precious and deadly decoration, a blade fastened to his hip.

“Oh yes, my brother’s emerging a few months ago has everyone alert.” Shoto sighed as if he was talking about an unfavourable score in a knight tournament, not about a serial killer stalking the highbourns. A serial killer who came from his own royal family. “Nothing I can do about it right now.” The half and half prince looked into the sea.

You could evaporate from the world and that would surely make that psycho of a brother happy. Katsuki thought but couldn’t really say anything, shouldn’t. Talking about the missing brother in broad daylight was taboo. Cat also seemed to know that.

“Beautiful day for some recreation on the beach, your highness.” Her strange pupils, now more round and relaxed, locked on Shoto. “Are you feeling well, is there anything you would fancy?” Suddenly, Katsuki felt as if Cat was a bit too hospitable.

“Hm, I do maybe feel a little bit bored.” If that was true, Shoto’s plain face hid all of his emotions.

“Is there anything we can do to change that, your highness?” We? Of course, Katsuki should be the one asking that and walking around entertaining the guests. “Maybe a horse ride?” The stoic prince perked up for a moment, nodding his head lightly. “Very well, I will send for steed.”

Soon three sizable horses were brought over, stablemen with bowed heads passing the reins into royal hands. Before they took off Shoto gestured for his captain to come over. Nestled in the saddle, he spoke in a disinterested tone. “We’re going off for a ride, I will be in the Bakugo captain’s care.”

“Do you wish for me to fly over you, your highness?” Katsuki swore he heard a few gasps upon the word fly. It was not an everyday view to see the captain use his wings for something else than showing off. Katsuki was certain the blonde mutant was a creature of the night.

“No need Hawks.” Without another word Shoto dug the heels of his boots into the horse’s side.

It wasn’t long before Katsuki felt left out. He rode slowly behind his two companions, comparing their stances and words. They both seemed rather stiff. Cat’s hips swayed with the horse’s movement, similar to his, but her shoulders were tense, hands gripping the rein with a strange focus to it. Shoto looked like he mounted a horse for the first time. Sure, he kept in the saddle but his body lacked the natural movement. Katsuki was sure his ass would hurt in the evening.

Despite their weird riding, the two managed to uphold a shallow conversation. The blonde deemed the words that left their mouth absolute rubbish, but at the same time he couldn’t find a moment to butt in. Cat and Shoto created an awkward but sturdy combination.

“I find it a day too beautiful to talk about my work.” Cat’s voice was soft, as if she was talking to a child.

“You simply can’t talk about it.” Shoto learned no new boundaries since they saw each other last time, still speaking whatever came to his mind.

“I’m content you understand, your highness.” There was no sense for Katsuki to feel threatened by Shoto’s shallow discovery. Everyone on the court had their secrets and no person yielding a sword was without sins. Every guard, especially the one designated to a prince, was there for a reason no ears should ever catch. The same went for Hawks, who was left far behind in the avalanche of satin and lace, Katsuki knew the man did some shady business but what kind exactly, no clue.

“But the day indeed is beautiful.” Shoto was a poor rider and the fact was painfully visible. The Todoroki prince wasn’t looking ahead of him and if not for the slow pace of their ride, he would surely divert off the route. His eyes were locked on Cat who guided the small group.

Katsuki wanted her to put on the coat once again and shield her chest chiselled in stone. The white blouse, swept by the wind, seemed too vague, to see-through for her. Shoto was looking at his mighty guard and she presented herself in a blouse suitable for a lady in distress, who wandered off too far in her nightgown. Cat’s high-waisted trousers hugged her form accentuating the movement of her hips and Shoto was looking.

“Yes, the weather is warm, very warm in fact.” The prince breathed out and let the rein loose. His horse started to turn the moment it felt a lack of a humans’ hand but Cat was quick to bend down and put it in its track.

“Your highness, you shouldn’t let it loose. The Bakugo horses are known for being feisty.” She scolded him softly.

“Oh, sorry, I just got a bit hot.” Shoto answered, no emotions lacing his tone, as he shrugged off his rich coat. How can he feel at ease after just being scolded by a guard. He tucked the garment around his saddle and kept on with his poor ride, taking back the rein from Cat. Now, both of them were only in white, cotton blouses and Katsuki felt it was too intimate for his liking. Kicking his horse, he jammed between the two.

“I was fucking bored back at the picnic but now it’s even worse.” The blonde brute eyed Shoto who looked back at him with a slightly shocked expression. The fuck you staring at.

“What would make you feel better, my prince?” Cat still looked ahead of herself, disregarding the disruption to her conversation.

“Some action.” He grunted in response. “Like a race.”

Oh, how his blood started to rush in his veins at the thought of challenging his guard. What if he could make her sweat and gasp? Would she fight for her breath, biting her lips while trying to win? Was she even competitive?

“To the southern beach gate.” Katsuki grinned, snaring her into a battle. He also wished to get rid of Shoto, leaving him behind in his poor attempts to catch up.

“Okay.” Cat answered, looking at him from the corner of her eye, unfazed.

Digging his heels hard into the horse’s sides the blonde rushed forward, forcing a canter. He lay low, nearly hugging the massive neck of his steed, gripping the rein hard enough to leave marks on his palms. The horse cut through the sweeping shore line, water splashing from under its hooves. Without looking behind, Katsuki pulled the rein, forcing the animal to turn, guiding it towards a more grassy ground. As soon as his steed felt soil instead of sand it rushed forward with confidence, making Katsuki’s golden hair dishelve in the wind.

The prince reached the gate in master time. He raced the beach since he was six or seven. Gasping, he turned the horse around, combing his now unkempt hair back with his hand. Neither Cat nor Shoto showed up from behind the tall cliffs that hugged the beach from one side. Katsuki relaxed in the saddle, unclipping his own coat and taking it off to feel the breeze hit his softly clothed skin. The prince couldn’t wait to see the look of defeat on Cat’s face.

Soon the two figures turned and came in view, but despite starting with two horses they only came back with one. They neared him and Katsuki felt as if he lost, despite winning the short race. Shoto sat behind his captain, due to the slow pace at the finishing line he wasn’t hugging her tightly, rather his hands sat loosely in her tights. He was flushed tightly against her back, the saddle too small for two people to feel comfortable. As Cat guided the horse close to him, she made it stand side-to-side so that they all could look at each other. Katsuki had a perfect view of how Shoto’s crotch pushed into Cat’s butt, the saddle still too small despite Katsuki’s displeased look.

“Congratulations, my prince, you won.” Cat said without a hint of discomfort.

“Why the fuck are you on one horse? This idiot has his own.” The blonde spoke but his gaze was locked onto where their bodies connected.

“It would be an utmost disrespect of my if I left prince Todoroki alone, my highness, as price Todoroki cannot race.” Katsuki felt a dissonance. With the delicate highborn strapped onto her back, she looked like Todoroki's guard rather than Bakugo’s and such sharing did not fit into his mind. Now, the blonde wished for Hawks who could assist his damned useless prince, to set his Cat free. “The third horse should follow us.” But of course, the damn thing didn’t.

After a while they decided to head back, Cat and Shoto even closer than before. Katsuki didn’t know if he preferred to ride behind them to keep watch over Shoto’s hands or rather in front to save himself the sight of their phantom hugging. As soon as they wandered back to the multitude, which didn’t ignore Shoto’s position, Katsuki jumped off the horse shooting the two a hateful glare. Cat slid off of the horse first and lent a hand to Shoto who gracefully accepted it. They looked like a lady and knight but reversed. The blonde scoffed and threw Cat’s jacket into her hands after grabbing it from her saddle. He draped his coat back over his shoulders and his captain followed, without a word.

“My prince.” Hawks seemed to catch interest in the strange situation. Shoto stood there, between the massive horses in his cotton undershirt only, like a lost child. Of course he forgot his coat as it stayed on the steed that wandered off. “What happened?”

“We raced.” The half and half answered his concerned guard. “Cat offered to take me on her horse to ensure my safety.” He began picking at the hem of his sleeves, as if only now realising his attire.

“Captain.” Hawks bowed his head slightly to Cat in a silent ‘thank you’ which she seemed to ignore. “Did you like it, my prince?”

Shoto looked up slightly. The sky reflected in one of his eyes. “No.” He breathed out after a second of silence.

“Gather yourself, we’re heading inside.” Katsuki scoffed having heard enough of this nonsense. Few heads turned his way, displeased frowns springing on their faces.

He felt immense anger burning in his inside and bubbling up in his veins. The blonde was helpless despite his raging. Nothing he did, no action he undertook today went out as planned. Everywhere he went, the captain’s attitude reminded him that he did not rule over her, every move she made screamed of his mother’s doing. She was perfect in every ounce. Steady, royal and polite. Reserved but at the same time sweet and somehow caring for the ones she had to be, to the tip of her fingers that grazed Shoto’s as he slid off of the horse. Katsuki had enough of this court coded, pompous bullshit. Cat still had plenty of hours of her duty, following his steps wherever he went, entering every room he went into in spite of his curses. So he will head back into the castle, back into his chambers. He will close the door behind them and show her that even though she is under his mothers rule, he will be the one holding her lead. She is stuck with him just as much as he is stuck with her and he will prove to her that there is not one person in this kingdom that doesn’t do as he pleases.

One thing that day went as he planned so far as tiny raindrops fell from the sky bringing the picnic to an end.

“I want you to guard me tonight.”

“As you wish, my prince.”

Katsuki’s attitude was visible in plain sight, his boot clad feet stomping angrily on the paved floor of the castle grounds. A pair of silent steps following his every turn. The rain was hammering down by the time the whole multitude reached safety under a roof and it swept up the dust in corridors, barging in through arched doorways. As he passed down his mother’s fruit garden, Katsuki spotted the obnoxiously rich flowers being tossed around, their soft and fleshy petals torn off clean, revealing a juicy weeping core.

Serves them right, die. He thought as a chill crept up his spine. The flowers and bees will haunt him till the end of his days.

Laundry girls and guards jumped off of his route, as the angry prince stormed through corridors. Just a second longer, a few passageways and he will be safe and sound in his chambers, by the fireplace devouring on its warmth. And then… then what?

“Stop right there, brat.” A voice, harsh like the upcoming thunder, made him halt. Not her, not at this moment! “In, now.” She looked down on him, a frown passing through her features, a hand rich in golden rings holding the door open for him. “Alone.” She spat, looking at the guard behind his back.

With a heart full of hate and stomach bursting with anger Katsuki entered one of the endless rooms of the queen’s. Half-shadow seemed to stick to her butt, the places she spent her time in never lit properly. Was it her preference, safety precautions, or was it simply her ruthlessness oozing out, never letting her taste brightness.

Rulers pay high prices for their power. She used to say, Katsuki barely old enough to reach her knee, as he gripped the silky fabric of her dress, the two of them strolling through parks.

Did it backlash, mother? All the years you spent moulding me in the shape you wanted hitting you back with twice the strength. Katsuki will never be the same as her, he will not let her rule over this kingdom, through his hands, after she closes her eyes for the last time.

“What is it this time, you old hag?” The prince didn’t even bother stepping inside the room, opting for standing in the doorway, his back pressing into the oak.

“I’ve heard you’re overusing one of the guards.” So she took an interest in his little nightly escapades with Cat. Look how caring she could be when it came to her own pawns, merely the second night and she already went into action. “I don’t care how many kitchen girls, maids of honour of even stable boys you fuck, but listen to me carefully here.” The queen’s accusation finger darted his way. “Don’t you dare touch that guard, she has her own duties to fulfil.”

A few painfully long seconds passed by as Katsuki mulled over her words. He had no such intentions in the first place. Sure, a foggy image of putting the stubborn and nonchalant capitan in her place played on repeat in his brain, but he never even thought it through. There was no plan, no certainty in his actions, just plain and primal instincts telling him to assess his superiority. God, did her lessons get to me finally?

And then it clicked. What better place for the one who held her chin so high, the one who shone like a finely polished blade in his mother’s secret box of knives, the one that treated him with so little respect, what better place than under him? Your own games will eat you up, mother. He thought, as a grin crept up his poorly lit face. Once again he reached for the scarce reserves of self-discipline and fought off the smile.

“If you’re really interested in my bedding so much then remember this: I’m not a whore.” He spat, turning to grab the handle, nearly shaking with excitement.

“She’s to be conferred a title of nobility. Don’t you dare destroy it!” But he was no longer listening, the heavy doors swinging open to reveal the disinterested capitan.

Mitsuki was left in silence and darkness, free to contemplate and place the conversation deep within her web. He may not listen, that idiot, but she surely will. Out of all, this outcome was one she didn’t think about earlier, but all is not lost. An easy way out of this mess popped up in her head and let her back rest deep within the cushions of her seating. If he does something stupid, she strikes. If he reflects on his actions and takes the right path, she may see it as a small parenting victory. Plans inside plan, Katsuki. You still know so little.

Inside his chambers, Katsuki sat in front of the fireplace. Patting the place next to his, he gestured for Cat to sit. With curiosity written all over her face, she entered the dimly lit room and sat, legs crossed.

“Speak with me, Cat.” He said, no doubt she knew what he wanted. In the fruit garden, Katsuki felt the need to have her be true to him. Now, it was only a game. He didn’t care whether she was forcing, lying or spitting facts about herself, all he needed was for her to feel safe. Could he fool her, lure her like a moth to light, or will he just have to take her by force?

He slowly got why they called her Cat. The captain was agile and quick, silent and with a certain liquid-like laziness to her. Cats’ had claws, sure, but they would not stand a chance in front of a lion.

“So, you’re gonna become a nobility? How generous of my mother.” The blonde nearly laughed. So very generous to me.

“My task requires me to attain that title, yes.” She was looking around the room, from the fur draped bed in the far back, through the windows now obliterated with heavy covers, to the fireplace that cast a warm hue on her features.

“If I was you, I’d rather stay a nobody.” A slight scrunch to her nose and Katsuki knew she wanted to say something but her lips remained a straight line. “Not spilling your secrets, huh?”

“You’re not spilling yours, my prince.” Her turn of tables was sudden, she seemed a master at guiding a conversation away from herself.

“What secrets do I have? There is no such thing as privacy for a prince.” His eyes wandered to her crossed legs, just for a second, not to draw unwanted attention from the vigilant, strange eyes. Will she fight? Will she tear her claws into his back or will she succumb, like a cute little kitten?

“Everyone has secrets.”

“And my mother has the most.”

Cat let out a small, genuine laugh. It was like a warm breeze from over the beach on a spring day that you don’t expect, one that has you thinking about the beauty of summer, glistering water and hot days. One that puts a smile on your face. For a second Katsuki thought that making her hate him could hurt. But then, she rested her hands on the floor behind her, her chest stretching, the adorned buttons reflecting the light of the fireplace, the crest of his royal family. His thought was gone, like a single strand of silk that snaps. It was replaced with the need to tear those buttons, one by one, showing her how deep in his ass he had her duty.

“When will you get the title?”

“In a month.” Her eyes never really landed on him since she entered the room.

“So simultaneously with the first engagements.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

There was a shuffle and one of the covers moved as if a strong wind smacked the side of the castle. In an instant Cat went from relaxed and lazy to high alert. It made Katsuki second guess his strength over her.

“Stay put, my prince, I will check this.” With a knife steady in her hand, the captain crept up to the window, her steps silent as ever. After peaking out her head slowly she let her shoulders slump back. “It’s just a fat owl.”

Cat took her place back beside him, hiding the knife away. Just how many did she hold?

“Speaking of engagements.” Something shifted in the way she was looking at him, from under her lashes, her pupils strangely small. Suddenly, Katsuki felt like a prey. “How is your wife hunt going?”

So he wasn’t the only one titling the whole farce a hunt. Nonetheless, the question took him off guard and the blonde promised himself to punish her for each and every time she’d done that so far.

“Like each year. I’m sending hateful letters and pretending not to see Ochaco’s tries to get pregnant with that useless scholar of hers.” He had to take it slow, getting closer inch by inch.

Cat hummed in response, seemingly falling in deep thought. Turning, she lay down, her cheeks facing the fireplace to catch more of the delicious warmth. “Your mother seems to be displeased with your doings, my prince.”

“Nothing I do ever pleases her.” He scoffed, drinking in her vulnerable position, with hands under her head, one leg propped up.

“That’s because you’re acting like a pawn, not like a player.” The punishment of hers will be severe. “Instead of breaking her rules, challenge them. Make your own plans and put them into action, let them collide with hers to see who can weave a better web.” Cat looked him straight in the eye and what Katsuki saw was some kind of amusement, as if the woman was a spectator in a theatre, watching the play unfold before her.

Once again Katsuki felt like he realised something too late.

“Do you want to be a nobility?” He asked, his voice shaky with excitement and unease.

“I’ve already told you, I was fine as a nobody but my task requires me to be elevated.” Her voice was utterly disinterested, as if she was talking about someone else.

She was forced into things just as much as he was. She was a pawn and how could she not be exasperated with his doings. He was indeed acting like the little chess piece in his mothers arms, able to move only one square each side on his own. All the while he had the potential to become a player. Don’t worry my dear, I will answer your silent prayer. With the way she spoke to him, to the best of her ability given her position, the way she moved, the way she looked at him. It was all a quiet ask for him to use the given situation.

Katsuki didn’t know the details of this supposed mission of hers, why she had to become a nobility, but what he knew, finally caught, was that she looked for a way to wiggle out of it. He was the way.

On all fours, the prince crept up to his capitan. She was just about to question what is it that you need, my prince but he silenced her ask with his lips.

His hands roamed the thick black jacket, tearing the upper buttons just as he wished to, lips clasped tightly around hers, tongue exploring the bratty, nonchalant mouth. As he tore down the jacket and blouse from one of her shoulders, revealing her soft skin and one of her breasts, he spotted little scars scattered every now and then. Without second thought he began marking the uneven skin from the crook of her neck to the soft mound. Katsuki felt the need to grind on her tight, his excitement growing at the taste of her cleavage and then he received a hard kick to his abdomen.

He felt the heat of her body slip from under him as he fell forward, cheek hitting the place where she was just a second ago, the prickly rug damaging the side of his face. A weight on his back forced him down, a dull pain spreading from under one of his shoulder blades. The prince wanted to gasp but there was no air in his lungs, his throat constricted by a tiny hand with nails way too sharp.

“What is it that you’re doing, my prince?” Her voice was venomous, like she wanted to spit on him. Her hand grabbed his fair hair, letting him take in a shaky breath. He was forced to look at her from the corner of his eye, his scalp burning with the way she tugged his strands.

Her jacket and blouse were still undone, now both of her breasts spilling out, revealing a set of marks twin to the one he just gave her. Katsuki started to laugh.

“So you’re allowed to sleep around with others but I’m not good enough for you, huh?” The blonde didn’t know what hurt more, the grip on his hair, the knee in his shoulder blade or the rejection and lack of willpower to throw her off.

“You’re my prince, I could not possibly sleep with you.” She spat.

“Prince this, prince that. Fuck you.” He bared his teeth at her, but all that it gave him was dust in his mouth. “I’m too much of a price to get to dick you down but not prince enough to not treat me like a peasant thief! Let go of me, posing danger to your crown is punished by death.”

“I’m not posing any danger to you, my prince. Just keeping you on the right track. My ass is not beside it.”

“Everyone gets to tell me what to do. Get the hell off of me and fuck off, you and everyone!” His trashing built up. The prince tried to surpass the pain in his back but the more he moved, the harder she pushed. Her knee slid dangerously to his spine and dug in, earning a cry from him.

“Then stop fucking around and start acting. Stop pushing your nose in other peoples’ games and start playing your own, my prince.” With that she let go.

As soon as he felt relief in his back, Katsuki jumped to his knees with a hiss, the bruised muscles burning. He swung around drawing a knife of his own but the captain was already at the door. She pulled the loose material of her blouse making her breasts jiggle and fall back into their constricts. Katsuki wished to grab them as hard as her throat to choke all of her curses right out, fuck her until she couldn’t think of any more.

A look of disgust, one of hatred, fear or at least hurt, anything would be better than the expression she held. Her eyes were focused, crazed, corners of her lips turned upwards in a grin, the overall look apologetic. She traced the hickeys on her neck with a finger before letting her arm loose.

Cat pushed the door open and disappeared into the night. Mere seconds after the knife dug into the wood just where her forehead was. Katsuki stood alone in the dimly lit room unable to throw the look of her face out of his head. Once again he felt like his actions were not his own, like he was a puppet with millions of strings pulled by everyone.

The golden prince asking for a private audience with the queen was nearly as rare as getting struck by lightning twice, or shitting out a diamond. Yet, here he was, opening the door to her sombre writing room, the lowlife soldiers and gardeners whispering behind his back.

Yesterday night had him thinking hard, hard enough to cause a persistent headache. He didn’t give a shit about Cat’s rejection. Truth be told, he did not need overflowing affection to force her into a relationship, which is what he demanded right now.

Katsuki has been beaten in training, thousands of bruises littering his skin after every match with Kirishima. The prince was berated for his attitude by scholars and other hotshots of this kingdom. He was feared and despised by damsels who faked their interest, performing the never ending ritual of fluttering their eyelashes and sparing him glances appropriate for virgins. Katsuki was many things and beard even more every day on the court, but never has he felt as used as he does now.

Stop pushing your nose in other peoples’ games and start playing your own, my prince.

He wished never to play any games, he desired nothing more but a truthful life and even more clear ruling. He promised himself that he would never be like his mother. He was supposed to be a lion, a dragon, not a spider sitting in the dark, weaving never ending strings of lies and deception. Katsuki will achieve what he wants, and he will force the woman that used him so badly last night to finally see with her own eyes that a crystal clear world is possible, under his watchful eye.

She will watch and she will gape in awe. Then, she will thank me.

Was it a simple demonstration of power that he wanted? Did he feel the need to snatch one of his mother’s toys for his own use to anger her? Did he want Cat to sob, kneeling and clutching his cloak, thanking him for breaking her out from the web. Did he want to break her out? Was he seeing a reflection of himself in her so very strange eyes, what he could have been if he let his mother toss him around? Or maybe he simply wanted to silence her, show her that at the end of the day he’s the one dealing the cards of their fate.

Katsuki was not sure what his intentions were. What he did plan though, all night long, was his next step.

“Listen closely ‘cause I’ll only say it once.” The blonde shut the heavy door, leaving all of the whispers and commotion outside. The smell of parchment and ink was heavy in the dusty air.

“What do you want from me today, brat?” Mitsuki sighed.

“I decided on my bride. I want -”

The queen started silencing him, waving a ring-heavy hand in front of her face. This indeed was a strange day because Katsuki listened.

“Let me savour this moment, son.” Son. The word left her lips so rarely it sounded exotic. The queen stood up, shoving the dark adorned chair and straightening her dress. She circled the desk, reached for two goblets and poured wine for both of them, blood red wine. “So, who’s the unlucky one?”.

“Cat, in a month. When she will become a nobility.” The vessel felt odd in his hand. Katsuki never really drank with his mother on other occasions than representative ones. This intimate moment, the two of them sharing good wine, discussing the future, and coming to an agreement, Katsuki could almost get fooled. Almost.

“Not a chance.” She threw disinterested, not interrupting her savouring of the wine.

“One scandal is all I need to make the girl utterly worthless, the only option she - the both of you will have is either give her away to me or have her disgraced for life.” The bloody liquid shook in his golden goblet.

“As if you would be able to corner her.” The queen laughed, a venomous, derogatory snicker. “Don’t even get started. I already know about everything from yesterday.”

Katsuki scoffed. So she did run back to her torturer and spill out everything, just as she promised she wouldn’t.

There is no such thing as a promise here, on court.

Of course, she never even promised anything in the first place.

“And here I was, thinking you got smarter over the night.” The queen sat down by the desk, getting back to her initial position and attitude, cold, closed, and angry.

“What is your problem? Why can’t I get her? She’s strong and seems rather clever, knows a lot about the court and will be free of any family baggage.” Katsuki put the wine on his mother’s desk, restraining himself from dousing her mocking face in it.

“The girl has other duties.” Dipping a long quill in ink, she began to write, not sparing her son even a glance.

“Ones that she doesn’t want.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No. But-”

“Then that is not true.” When Mitsuki finally turned towards Katsuki, her gaze was stern and utterly disappointed. A grimace twisted her face, one that often blemished his. They were so similar. “Make a smart choice, take Ochaco. Her family is too poor to pose any political danger to us and they will gladly agree to whatever we say. If you despise her that much you can beget a son with any whore in this kingdom and we will simply make Ochoco pretend it’s hers. From what it looks like the princess already has a sweetheart so as long as you let her keep that boy in her chambers, you won’t have to even look at her a second time.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth until his jaw cried out in pain.

“Is this the life you want for me?” He asked with unconcealed anger oozing out of every pore in his body.

“That’s a life I don’t want for anyone.” She shoved the quill down the long inkpot and looked at her prince. “But you’re a future king, you don’t get the courtesy of doing what you like or want. You do what’s best for the nation, for all of your people.”

Thousands of thoughts spiralled in Katsuki’s aching head, none of which showed him a route to victory in this war. Either way he will lose something. Now, he has to pick how much damage he will inflict on himself in order to please everybody else, to secure the nation, to become a king.

“And what if I give you a compromise, mother.” Without a doubt the name took her by surprise. For a second she saw her little boy, the fair haired ball of anger, clinging to the hem of her dress, shouting and cursing into the air. Mitsuki knew that time was long gone. If she kept treating him like a child, like a son, she would lose her priorities, their shared priorities - the lineage, the court, the kingdom.

“What compromise would it be?”

“I take Ochaco and you give me Cat as a mother of my children. Ochaco will pretend it’s hers in front of the whole damn world. Inside my chambers I get to savour my real family.”

There was a long while of utter silence. No scolding, snickering or curses left the queen’s lips, much to Katsuki’s surprise. Fear and excitement started to sink into his bones, fear for rejection, excitement for the time glimmer of hope that the silence lit.

“I will think about it. That is-” A long sigh, biting her lower lip and looking at the narrow window. “That’s not the best option but it also ain’t the worst one.”

Their gaze met for the last time this day. Her eyes were distant, calculating something in her head, weighing the options and fitting them into her web.

“I will think about it. For now, Cat is withdrawn from your side due to your abuse. The last outbreak of the Todoroki eldest forces me to strengthen their garda with my own forces. I do not wish to put more of my soldiers into broad daylight than I have to, therefore Cat will be appointed as another guard for Todoroki. Kirishima, who I will bring back, and Hound will guard your side in the daytime. For the night, a new guard will be appointed but do care to keep him out of the picture as much as you can.”

“Did you know that our families would already be connected if not for my sister's holy order?”

“Everyone has their duties.”

The lukewarm conversation between Shoto and his newly appointed babysitter made Katsuki nauseous. They were discussing everything and nothing at the same time. How the weather was nice, who would likely get engaged this year, what tea is the most refreshing for the upcoming summer, how buffed sleeves are going into fashion.

“That’s true, but it would be nice to have Katsuki and my sister married.” Saying this the half and half prince looked at his blonde companion. Biting his tongue, Katsuki forced himself to look away. The Todoroki princess was not needed in this conversation. “We did not suppose that Queen Bakugo would only bear one child. That’s a pity but we are still looking for a way to connect our bloodlines.”

We. Shoto was speaking as if he had a say in his fathers plans. The thought of the ethereal prince having more power in his kingdom than Katsuki had in his angered him further. Kirishima huffed quietly as he always did when his golden bastard of a prince became moody. Hound seemed to be sleeping in the back of the open sun terrace where a small social gathering was being held. Supposedly courtesy of Katsuki, truthly his mother's.

“Creating an alliance between the two neighbourhood kingdoms would be a powerful move, your highness.”

“It would. Do you want to try?” Despite a few wide-eyed stares, Shoto grabbed a golden plate with rich chocolate pralines and offered it to Cat.

“I must refuse, your highness.” With a polite face and a tiny smile, the capitan shook her head.

“Such a pity. You don’t like sweets?”

“I do. I just simply don’t have the appetite right now.” Of course she couldn’t scold him by telling the prince that offering what should be for the royals to a mere guard is a faux pas. Katsuki snickered, catching Cat’s gaze, savouring it as long as she spared it.

“Hawks also likse sweets, don’t you?” The centre of all female attention of the room (maybe beside Ochaco) nodded his head. “You two have something in common. That and the fact that you’re both called with animal names.”

The two guards looked at each other. Hawks flashed his signature grin while Cat answered with lack of interest, looking up into the sky .The warm breeze made loose strands of her hair dance. Katsuki wished to comb his fingers in them and grip tight.

“That’s funny. Birds and cats don’t usually go together.” Shoto laughed and a few other people decided it would be a good idea to accompany, even if the joke was lame.

“It’s just a pseudonym, your highness.”

“Oh, so you do have a name? Hawks also has one.” A few interested heads turned their way. “But sadly I don’t know it. And even if I would, I couldn't really tell you.”

“Likewise, your highness.”

Never in his life has Katsuki experienced such a talkative Shoto. The blonde honestly thought that the lack of expression on the stone-like face of the half and half prince connected with his utter silence was the bane of his existence. A chirping Shoto came out to be even worse.

“Now that you’re in my party-” Katsuki hated the sound of those words. “I should have Hawks take you for a flight. The sea looks magnificent from that height.”

Cat clicked her tongue but shut her mouth, opting for a smile only.

“It would be an honour.” The winged man butted in. “Unless you’re scared of heights.”

“I am not, thank you very much.” The civil smile that Cat graced Shoto with turned ironic when she faced Hawks. Katsuki guessed cats and birds indeed don’t go well together, as the two seemed to hold some kind of grudge.

“You should try now! I want to see Hawks fly. The terrace is a perfect spot to take off.” Shoto pointed at the dead drop that fanned out on the other side of the railing. “Believe me it’s fun.”

Without an appropriate option to say no, Cat was left nearing the edge of the sun terrace, looking over into the ground down below. Every head was turned her way, some glances jealous as the winged capitan’s hands snaked around her waist. She twisted in his grab, placing her arms around his neck.

“Should you feel scared, don’t hesitate to use your legs as well.” A grin sprung on his handsome face and a maid sitting behind Katsuki started to fan herself. Katsuki wished for nothing more than to rip the sticky hands of the capitan away from Cat but any outburst could blow his cover. Shoto looked as pleased as punch.

“Thank you, I’ll see how it goes.” At least Cat’s face made Katsuki less angry as she held a slightly disgusted grimace, looking over her shoulder at the drop. Maybe it could be fun, hearing her bloody scream as they take off.

Nothing like that happened. One second Hawks was standing on the railing, with the captain in his hands, the next they were gone. He fell face-forward into the air and a couple of loud flirts later they were both far away, heading for the sea.

Few girls ran to the edge of the terrace, squinting their eyes in the sun, trying to make out the shrinking figures. Hound puffed out air through his nose, standing up from his sitting point, taking the place of the now gone guards beside Shoto’s back.

“Katsuki.”

“Young prince.”

Young prince. The adjective must have tasted like a well aged wine on the tongue of King Todoroki. He savoured every second of diminishing Katsuki. This, the aggression, dominance, and ruthlessness was a game the golden prince knew how to play, and he was more than happy to compete.

“You are not needed in this conversation.” His mother graced him with a pale cheek and a side eyed look. There was no need for her to go to the extent of turning to face him fully, for he was barely a prince.

“Why so? As a future king he may want to bear witness to changes.” Spite as sweet as sun kissed strawberries.

The Queen sent a dirty look towards King Todoroki, but abided by his unusual invitation. As Katsuki took a step inside the darkened room his gaze met Shoto. Changes? What changes were they talking about?

Suddenly Katsuki was back to his youth. Mitsuki dragged him by the shoulder that stretched painfully with every insistent tug. They nearly ran, passing monumental columns and soaring windows. The small, maybe ten years old Katsuki was thrown into a room, the doors shutting behind them as darkness enveloped his boyish figure.

“You are not to play a king when you are not one!”

She yelled, gritting her teeth. All the young prince did was slam through the door to a council meeting, shouting his ideas to the thousand-year-old ministers, just like his mother did every time she felt the need to be heard.

Was he being stuffed in a costume, with a fake crown and staff just now? Were they going to burst in laughter straight to his face? Were they, once again, leaving him behind, deciding what’s the best for him without bothering to ask the object’s opinion? Was this even going to be about him? With two Todoroki members present nothing was certain.

“What are you discussing?” Katsuki knew better than to allow them such games.

“The possibility of connecting our bloodlines.” The Todoroki King outran Mitsuki in his explanation.

“Have you kept a daughter in hiding all these years?” Katsuki snickered, spreading out in the richly padded chair, the soft cushions embracing his tired back.

“It shall not be a true blood connection but one that will be politically accurate.” His mother swished yet another blood red wine around a crystal glass. Some wondered whether she ever drank them or simply held them as decoration.

“And one that will please Shoto.” Since when did the King care for his childrens’ pleasure?

The ethereal prince kept his cool, the porcelain mask that he seemed to have been born with secured his face, declining Katsuki any chance at guessing what hid under the facade. If anything lay there at all.

Weave your own web.

He will not, Katsuki will stand up to any fight thrown his way. He will clash, head straight, with anything that stands in his way. If he is to become the king he wishes to be, he needs to target the right opponent, one that will one day bear the twin seat of kingship.

“So are you finally getting some bitches, half n’ half?”

“I would certainly not call her that.” Shoto looked down to the floor. He seemed to be tracing the hewed lines of the stone, peaking out of the opulent rugs, as if he longed for their cold in this castle burning with hatred.

“Then what would you?”

“I would like to know if she finally decided to give out her name.”

That sickly sweet, hazy gaze, his ring heavy fingers rubbing mindless circles into the chair’s armrest, the lightness of his shoulders. Shoto, despite being the least persistent, the most insular, the quietest and the most delicate looked like a captor in this very moment. He didn’t even spare Katsuki a glance. Why would he? Shoto already got what Katsuki couldn’t have.

There was always the possibility of a misunderstanding. It couldn’t be the enigmatic Cat he was talking about. As much as the golden prince fought with the idea, his instincts told him otherwise. What other nameless woman caught Shoto’s scarce interest? Who else was soon to bear a political position.

The Queen gazed upon a window, a small one embedded into the sloping ceiling, where the moon showed its palace cheek. It was shamelessly bright this might, no clouds obscuring the view. Katsuki wondered whether his mother was a werewolf or a witch, looking so intensely into the silvery disc, not sparing her son even one glance.

Later that night, away in his chambers Katsuki sought the centre of this labyrinth. He was forcefully removed from the small meeting held between the monarchs, as he started an argument that is and would always be out of his power, his mother’s words.

Was it all planned? Was Cat meant for Shoto from the very beginning? It that why she was getting the title? Was she supposed to get closer to the half and half prince by Katsuki’s means?

That would be pointless. She could just be admitted to the Todoroki prince from the beginning. Katsuki’s involvement in this operation didn’t make sense. He was an additional piece that didn’t fit anywhere. And his mother never used to be futile in her resources.

Ever since Katsuki was fifteen, he was forced into every marital council meeting. They were held in a rather grand room, seating kings and queens, their ministers and right-hands. Servants run round with bowed heads pouring wine to goblets that never seemed to be resting on the table, rather the content was being poured down thirsty throats. The chatter was loud, the whole room buzzing like a bees nest. Or more like hornets with how sharp these peoples’ claws were.

The golden prince paced around the castle looking for such a meeting. Sure as hell he should hear them from one of many open doors, he should smell the rich appetisers resting on the long table, he should get a damned invitation to take part! Just as he got one every year, one that was laced with his mother’s threats. If you don’t come I will kill you. Not this year.

As much as the guards and servants tried to dodge his questions, running away in the halls, hiding in chambers, pretending to be busy, all it took was one, too squeaky, cook’s helper. Katsuki learned the meeting was already being held. His mother sure as hell tried to keep him out of this one.

As he stormed the hallways towards the grand room with the painfully long table he gathered his thoughts. Of course he would burst with his decision - he will be with Cat. Katsuki never before wanted any particular wife, he was never interested in any woman like that. Suddenly, in a matter of a few months, one has given him several reasons to claim her.

Of course it would never be love that would be the thing, the force that pushed him towards someone. Katsuki was not sure whether he even knew what love tasted like. But the thought of taking away one of his mother’s swords excited him as if he was a young boy on his first horse ride. The prince would take the guard, a person so very intimate to his mother, and show her how much better he is. Without the web, the schemes, the grand plans and dirty business, without all this gruesome fakeness she will have the opportunity to be free. And he will savour her freedom as if it was his own. He will hold the decision of her title, he will make her stay a nobody - a sweet, safe and secured nobody.

Together the two of them will rub what best they hold on one another. Her confidence, high held chin and perfect stance, will be the best decoration for his crown, one that she will be in his private chambers - a queen worth her place. Then, Katsuki will grace her with all the time, resources and freedom she will want. Of course as long as she fulfils her duties in the keeping of the lineage, but that is a price she will surely be able to pay. That woman is not stupid.

The golden prince, the golden king will make her pleased and he will spread out a new and better world in front of her - one ruled by lions and cats, not by spiders.

Katsuki will beat Shoto in this game. He will never let the ethereal, thin as air and nonexistent in his own way, take away such a precious gem, one pulsing with life that will surely die out in the cold hands of the Todoroki. He will not let her be taken away from the kingdom she is accustomed to.

Cat will be sharp and nonchalant, lazy and harsh, smiling and teasing all for Katsuki, never for Shoto nor for anyone else.

Was it a pathetic feeling of, once in his life, being phantom close to someone? Was his conqueror nature building up in his veins, ready to overflow any given second? Was it resistance or maybe simply a caprice? With all due respect, Katsuki did not care which he chose to side with, the only thing he was certain as he pushed the door to the meeting room was that he would walk out of here with Cat in hand.

To his utter surprise there were no servants moving around in a mismatched pattern around the room. Wine was scarce as everyone, bunched around the far end of the long table, preferred to keep a sober mind. All the heads darted his way as Katsuki strolled closer to them, hiding his shock at the unusual scene.

“I honestly thought younge prince would be absent today.” King Todoroki laughed shortly, propping both of his elbows on the table, observing Katsuki like a predator.

“How could I miss the council meeting where I announce my bride.”

Despite the king being decision making here, the blonde spoke his words to Shoto. They held a short and intense stare - Katsuki fierce, Shoto not seemingly comprehending.

“And who would that be?” Lord Yaoyorozu peaked from behind the King, his gaze held hope, or rather despair.

“That will be…” For a split second Katsuki looked at his mother. He screamed inside, his ego trashing in the golden cage it was kept hostage. Why from all moments did he have to instinctively look at her? It was his decision, his statement, his milestone and step to take. Why did his gaze wander to her face, and more importantly, why was she nodding? “That will be princess Ochaco.”

Murmurs spread through the small gathering. Someone seemed to pat king Uraraka for he perked up suddenly, whispering prayers.

“That girl is disgraced!” Yaoyorozu seemed too enraged with his defeat, spitting venom on the poor princess. “I want her dignity checked!”

“First of all, her ass is no business of yours, Lord.” As much as he hated himself for this, Katsuki mimicked the manner in which King Todoroki diminished him, piercing the red-faced man with undeniable truth - difference in positions. “Second, I’ve known her for the longest time. That green-haired idiot does not interest me, she can keep him or kill him for all I care. I just want you all off my back and my heir on the way.”

Once again Katsuki mindlessly strayed towards his mother’s gaze. She was eying him intensely, her palms gripping the armrests of her throne. A smirk grazed her sharp features. She threw a quick order at the Yaoyorozu Lord sitting next to her and soon the whole row changed seats, allowing for Katsuki to take place by her side.

“We will play this out just as you wanted.” She whispered when he came close to her and a shiver went up his spine. We, as you wanted. She accepted his compromise. Katsuki came out with a proposition and she heard him, thought it through and let it pass. They were playing on the same side. The prince didn’t know what thrilled him more, the idea of his plan working out or the feeling of having one of the most powerful people next to him, with him for once.

“Very well. Now let’s get back to the matter we were discussing before someone decided it was his turn to speak.” Katsuki remembered, it was the Todoroki King who laughed at his mother hard enough, at the counsil meeting, to make her punish her own son so hard. He started to understand Shoto a bit more - if he had a father like this he would also detach himself from reality.

“Shoto.”

“I ask for the hand of a lady from your kingdom, your highness.” The prince, delicate as a flower, bowed his head slightly, but it quickly sprung up towards the Bakugo Queen. He looked like a kid waiting for a response, whether he can go play outside or not.

“With all due respect, I must decline your offer for now.”

It was the second time this day when the small gathering went rampage with whispers. The men in the room looked around each other in disbelief. The show certainly didn’t go along with the script.

With a hard tug of his father’s hand, Shoto was pushed back into the seat from his standing position. The now disorientated prince looked around the room, at the Queen’s face and finally at Katsuki who was now grinning wide. Something flicked behind his glassy eyes, something like understanding.

“And why is that, your highness?” King Todoroki seemed to send the deadliest looks of them all. At first they were directed at the Queen but soon, he caught Katsuki’s unpleasant smile. “So that’s how you’re playing it out.”

He must have caught the act quickly. The night of Katsuki’s bursting in during the small gathering the four of them held, it gave him out. But it didn’t matter, it had already been decided and no amount of the King’s trashing could override his mother’s words. After all, Cat was a property of the Bakugo’s.

“Bring the girl here.” The King demanded.

“There’s no need for that.”

“If we are to decide on an agreement tonight, the girl will come here. I find it obvious that you suddenly decide to gatekeep a thing that, one way or another, was supposed to connect our kingdoms. I want to, at least, hear the girl say it. I want her to pick!” This time it was the King speaking to Katsuki and not his mother. His nails would surely leave bloody marks with how hard the young prince was digging them into his own palms - all out of excitement. “I want her to come here, look at you, and tell us all she picks you.”

Cold sweat seemed to grow on Katsuki’s skin. One look at his mother and she knew he didn’t talk to the very girl. Yet, he was sure she would pick him over Shoto.

“What is going on, who are you talking about?” King Uraraka seemed as lost as the rest of the people, save for the Bakugos and Todorokis. “Weren’t you just talking about marrying Ochaco, prince?”

“And I will. I will make her my wife and then both of us can go back to our own… picks.”

Finally, the Uraraka king seemed to understand. His gaze lowered slightly as his back plopped against the chair. Despite the rather pitiful look of a man who knew his worthlessness, he did not oppose a single word. Maybe he knew what Katsuki was offering was honestly the best option for his daughter. Even though their royal family would most likely be a mixture of green, blonde and god knows what else.

“Fine. Go get the girl.”

A few long minutes passed in silence. The only sound in the room was the cracking of wood in the big fireplace. The air seemed to buzz with anticipation and unease. No one dared to look at each other. No one except for Katsuki drilling holes in Shoto’s mismatched head.

When the doors opened to reveal Cat all faced her way. She stood by the large, wooden wings.

“Come.” The Queen ordered.

Cat looked into the hallway she just came through as if someone would be there. After a second she came closer, with a few long strides, and was now standing with her hands behind a straight back, waiting for more orders. Despite her confident face she was looking upwards.

“Due to a misunderstanding we wish to ask you something.” The Queen turned directly to her guard and Katsuki followed her gaze. Cat was standing just behind his shoulder. If he reached out his hand he could grab her, touch her, signal to her to give the damn right answer to the upcoming question. But she was looking upwards, avoiding even his mother’s gaze, like a good soldier. “Do you wish to attain a title of nobility and be honoured with the possibility of connecting the Bakugos to the Todorokis in a political agreement, or do you wish to stay lowborned and help to elongate the Bakugo lineage.”

Silence fell upon the room as all awaited for an answer, one that could change the political stability of millions of square kilometres. Some feared, some sought possibilities, others clenched their jaws or bore their eyes into the guard, standing alone like a single strand of grass in a thunderstorm.

Cat took in a sharp breath and for the first time, she looked down on the Queen. At that moment Katsuki knew his world was about to fall apart once again. She never would and never will talk to him, with him, as he needs it.

Slowly, the woman went lower and lower, bending her knees, her back, her neck. She dropped onto the floor silently which made her voice contrast even more. She spoke with reserve and power.

“If I may beg you, your highnesses, I wish to finish the original plan.” I pick Shoto, I wish to be a nobility, I hate you. Katsuki braced himself for one of these, what other reason would she have for not looking at him as she made her decision? Cat picked her head up from next to her knee and looked straight at the Queen. “I missed four breaks in my service.”

The Queen gasped. It was short and unexpected, only for Katsuki and Cat to see. She blinked a few times as if trying to get rid of the shock from her features before she faced the other way, back to the awaiting group.

“Enji, I think we might have overdone ourselves this time.” Both Todorokis turned abruptly towards the Queen. Shoto was shell shocked from hearing his fathers name fall out of the queen's lips. The King looked stunned as his son.

“The original plan.” He muttered.

“What the fuck is the original plan? What break in service?” Katsuki cried out like a madman for truthly, he felt mad. Plans in plans in plans.

“Everyone out!” The Queen rising to her feet was all that it took for the rest of the men to usher out of the room. All they did was look back behind the shoulders and whisper. Weak.

It was only the five of them left and the room felt like a gruesome overkill. Without much comprehension Katsuki switched between looking at his mother and Cat, both of whom didn't spare him a single glance since the enigmatic words. King Todoroki was still seated in his original place, with his face in his palms, calculating something meticulously in his head. Shoto looked as disorientated as he was at the beginning, failing to grasp even a strand of understanding in this strange situation. Now, he opted to look at his father’s cheek, awaiting an explanation.

“What is the original plan?” Katsuki hated the need to repeat himself.

“The original plan can come in, I think.” The Queen sighed, gulping down wine that she greedily clawed at the moment she sat back in her spacious throne. Soon, she repeated the same but this time she was shouting.

The doors began to open slowly, as if someone was testing the waters before jumping into the whirlpool before him. A crimson wing was first to enter, then a halo of golden hair and strange marked eyes that quickly fished out his target in the group. Hawks came to a stop just behind his king, mimicking the way in which Cat was holding herself.

“Did the two of you… proceed with the plan?” Enji Todoroki broke the silence first.

“Yes, my king.” Hawks answered for them both.

“When?”

“First thing when we came here, around four months ago.” Hawks looked somewhere far, into a memory maybe, one that was not brought back to life, wrestled out of the nooks and crannies of his privacy. “We did not expect… such obstacles.”

“Because there shouldn’t have been any obstacles in the first place.” The Queen was looking down, on the table, her eyes darkened. “We got caught up in our sons’ stupid games, Enji.” The king's name felt oddly at home on her tongue. The third person she used, how she removed both of the princes from the conversation. Thai was not meant for their ears, they were only unlocking this secret because someone, by mistake, pushed the keys into their hands in a hurry. They stood in the right place at the right time.

“Then we shall proceed with the plan.” The Todoroki King finally looked up and turned towards Hawks. His ever-scolding gaze felt light right now, like he was testing something, looking for a sign on his guard's face.

“I will ask for the last time…” Katsuki desperately tried to earn some attention, to finally know what the whole farce was about.

“What you will do is shut up and listen, for I will only tell it once.” His mother’s words were sharp but her gaze was apologising when she looked at him. As if she was silently trying to tell him, I’m sorry. And Katsuki will understand her, because in the end even she was stripped down from the possibility of choosing who really dealt the cards.

“The original plan, one that has been going on for years now, was to breed, create two strong people - a man and a woman. Many were tested, many like the ones that consist of my or the King’s personal guards.” Katsuki knew who she meant, not the regular soldiers but the ones like Cat and Hound. “When we found two that would perfectly match each other we were supposed to title them nobility and marry them together to produce even better offspring. Children that would join the two kingdoms with a tie so strong that no one would have the guts to attack and expose oneself to the power.”

“And these people are…” Shoto finally mustered the strength to mutter.

“At this point there is no denying that the plan will succeed. There is no chance Shoto will have Cat and neither can Katsuki. Both of you could ruin the royal lineage if your supposed firstborn came out with red wings.”

From the very beginning, from the moment Katsuki wandered his mother’s garden at night and found Cat shuffling around the bush, she already weaved her web. They already weaved their web. The business she had to take care of at free days, the hickeys he found under her collar, around her breast, maybe even further. The fat owl who sat that night on the windowsill. It was him, him all along, everywhere behind her, inside her, with her.

Her strange pupils that now, finally, found a place in Katsuki’s mind. A cat, elongated and extremely sensitive to light and relaxation. Maybe she didn’t have such grand evidence of her animal nature like Hawks but sure as hell she acted on her instincts.

“We need to arrange the wedding quickly or else you will miraculously bear a child in three months.��� The Queen sighed.

“Best to do it next week, as an opening of the season.” The King answered.

Katsuki lacked the willpower to fight anymore. How could he win her over when he already lost at the beginning. Soon, he will have a seat in the first row to see Cat take the hand of a different man. In a matter of months he will be able to look at the fruit of their… what was it between them? Nature, instincts, orders, loyalty or love? Maybe he would ask her. Maybe she will tell him what’s it like?

As Katsuki looked at Cat, she was already gazing into him, through him. For the first time since he met her she looked taken aback. Her plan worked and all that will have to settle into her brain. Apart from the trouble on her face there was also regret, her eyes spoke a silent apology. Not for Shoto, not for the Queen but for him. She used everyone she could. From the moment she realised Katsuki was after her, she led him to inappropriate actions and ran off to Shoto. Then, the half and half also started to pose as an obstacle, like he always does. But somehow, in this enormous whirlwind of schemes and lies, they found the way to each other.

What else could push people to do things that crazy if not love? And when she could finally face him, face Hawks, Katsuki saw one of the most beautiful smiles he would ever experience in his life. And as the two could finally close into an embrace, Hawks ever so attentive of her abdomen, and seal their feelings with a kiss, Katsuki couldn't look away, no matter how hard he tried.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm thinking about a small continuation of how Katsuki's and everyone's life is after the wedding, but that's a matter for another day.