#she won’t be used and will do her own thing

[emmyrosee]

shhhhHHHHHUTUPIDONTWANTTOTALKABOUTIT

-

The first time you sleep over Katsuki’s, it’s not long after he’s moved into his apartment with the rest of his friends.

Which is bold, the only one who doesn’t flirt with you any chance they get is Mina -mainly because she has her own place- but she’s always telling Katsuki that the minute you get bored with him, she’s there to swoop in.

But his friends waste no time in making sure to rile Katsuki up with cheesy pickup lines that mean nothing to you, but everything to him. He hates the idea of having his friends hit on you, but you’d be lying if riling him up wasn’t exhilarating.

You smile as you hear bare feet pad along the tiling of the kitchen, a massive presence looming behind you; it’s warm, loving, and you feel yourself relaxing at the closeness.

“Morning,” he rasps, arms wrapping around your waist. You smile and curl against him, tipping your head back to look at him.

“You hungry?”

“You didn’t have to make us breakfast,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to the curve of your neck.

You mewl and bend your arm to wrap around him, “I know, I just wanted to do something nice for my man and his friends for being such good company last night.”

He grumbles, “don’t ever refer to my roommates as ‘good.’ Bunch of fucking menaces and creeps.”

“They can’t be too bad,” you hum, turning off the stove. God knows how long you’ll both be drooling with affection. “After all, you let me meet them,” you coo. “And you’d never let your little baby be put in danger.”

“Fucking hate when you call yourself that,” he snaps, spidering his fingers up your side. You squeal and shrink to the side, only to be met with pokes on the other. “Katsuki!”

“Don’t be a little shit and I won’t have to torment you,” he snickers. You’re quick to flick off the stove with what little movement your arms can give you while protecting you from tickles, and you duck as fast as you can under his caging limbs to escape.

He must like the challenge, because he lets you go, only to barrel after you into the living room. A small coffee table separates you both, and you’re at a standstill as you watch each other.

“Katsuki!” You giggle, making a sudden dart to try and throw him off your trail. It doesn’t deter him, like he’s able to predict what you’re going to do before you do. “Y-You’re gonna wake everyone up!”

“I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing,” he snorts. “You’re the one screaming and whining.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Are not-“

“I think it’s bold of you to argue with me instead of sprinting away.” He shrugs, making a dash for you and wasting no time in grabbing you into his big arms. You writhe and laugh in his grip, desperate to not shriek and wake his poor roommates. Giggles bubble wildly over your lips, and he hauls you back into the kitchen before plopping you onto the countertop, distant from the stove. You instinctively move your hands to card his blonde hair, and he leans in to steal the last of your giggles from your lips.

“How much time we got before breakfast burns?” He mumbles, hands smoothing up your thighs. Crimson eyes glimmer with mischief, and he bumps your nose with his.

You chuckle and shake your head, legs wrapping around his thick waist, “it was burning before you came in; I turned off the stove so it wouldn’t burst into flames.”

He snorts, “good.” One of the hands resting on the meat of your thighs comes up to grip your chin, “now I don’t have to rush.”

“Ew,” you giggle, but it dies as quickly as you said it when he connects your kiss, working his lips against yours in this own way, full of passion and love with just enough tease to have you whimper.

The hand on your cheek shifts down to rest on your delicate throat, dangling like a necklace. A subtle act of dominance to make you shiver.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

“I love you more-“

“Ewwwww!!!”

“Who knew he had a weakness?”

“Lookin’ good, Dynamight!”

Immediately, Katsuki’s shoulders hike up as the shrill voices from his friends ring through the air. You let out a string of laughter while the other boys you were visiting peer around the wall of the apartment, Sero with a face of disgust, Kirishima with a playful understanding and Kaminari with a cheesy bite of his lip.

“I’m going to KILL YOU IDIOTS!” He barks, abandoning you to dash over to the trio, mainly targeting Kaminari and Sero, who sprint away as fast as they can. Kirishima chuckles and makes his way over to you, helping you off the counter with a sigh.

“How’s he ever going to keep being Number One if you keep doing this to him?”

You snort and elbow his ribs while somewhere in the house, Katsuki caught Denki, and the screams ring loudly in the walls.

“Shut up and help me remake breakfast, dickhead.”

[cancerian]

The only “dense motherfucker” is one that believes it is women that must do so (make men feel comfortable) for men. You live in a society highly governed by your fellow males, if anyone is making you feel “bad” or “sad” it is because of the rules and laws created by your fellow males. Why should women who have been oppressed and subjugated for years, and are still subjugated by a different name care for your hurt that is caused by other men.

The biggest threat to women is men, the biggest threat to men is other men. At these your big ages, you would think that half a braincell would have formed by now. There is nothing that men will do now that they have not already done in the past. This is why women’s history and their experiences with the men they loved is very important for young girls to know. That way they don’t fall into the trap of “if you show them love, they will change and be kind.” Stop trying to put women in dangerous situations under the guise of loving all humans.

You have to be small minded to think women treat all men the same, your kind needs their ego stroked. Which is why women/girls are required to say “but not all men” when discussing things that disproportionately affect them. No one owes you love, but as humans we owe each other some sense of respect. So, you must respect women’s decisions to interact with you how they feel safest doing. The same way women have learned to respect that not all men are going to respect them. Only a dense pig would think that women do not understand the concept of viewing others as humans. In fact, time and time again it is women that are viewed as less than human by the same group you’re forcing them to care for.

As women (regardless of age), and especially as black women (moving away from the POC bs) you should prioritize your safety, you are not mother Theresa (even she was proven to be a fraud) and should focus on your own wellbeing. Don’t let an idiot calling you “dense” put you in situations many never come out of alive. As someone who has a male in her life that would do anything to see her happy and accomplished (and vice versa), I don’t go around with rose colored glasses trying to change anyone’s opinions because they chose to adopt an ideology that demonizes the living experiences of others. If being called “brother” is the only way you feel welcomed, then you need to rethink your entire life. Once you’re above 25, I implore that you try using at the very least 1/3 of your brain. I know using even half would probably cause a headache, so for now let’s aim to use 1/3.

Also you bring up the fact that men disproportionately hold more seats of power, so maybe direct your sadness to the people actively causing it. Which is the men in power not caring about the broke men (any man not in power). “It won’t pan out great for anyone who is not a male” because this is what males have done throughout history (I know you used man, but I used male for a specific reason and no I’m not a terf, but I don’t care about being called that). What a pathetic thing to say, especially if you’re not the man in power. This is an issue that egotistical idiots have (not calling you an idiot, but it is what it is), claiming men created this and that, when your ancestors are not the men that created it. Stop claiming power you personally don’t have. Stop claiming other men’s hard work as your own, especially when they put in the work to actually be productive members of society.

To the original twitter post, my dude you sound very stupid and seem like the kind that spends more time watching videos than actually reading on your countries history. The win was predictable, not because “men are becoming more right wing” but because this has been a common theme in America. These people are influenced by certain kind of media because deep down they already hold these beliefs, which is why they accept them. Men don’t genuinely want to see equality, hence why when they notice any group they view less than getting more rights they retaliate. The election result only tells us the reality of America as it pertains to race and sex (even more so when we look at the outcome of certain women’s voting history). So, the replies need to stop trying to make women take the blame for actions caused by other men. We should all aim to grow up.

To all the women/girls out there, avoid men that always want to be coddled and victimized. Most importantly find ways to protect yourselves, utilize the 2nd amendment given to you not by all men, but by the men that actually wrote it in. Protect yourselves by all means, and don’t be made to feel guilty for opting for safety over danger and stress.

Edit: have come to the conclusion after reading a substantial number of replies, Tumblr has a significant number of idiots who think they are smart. As a collective, we should all go touch grass.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[darktrashsoulbear]

Exploring Local Treasures

Ewan Mitchell x new girlfriend!reader

Summary: Ewan takes his new girlfriend on a tour of his hometown Derby, on her insistence, and scrambles to find things to do while also just being so incredibly in love.

This was a request sent in by the lovely Freyja @endless-ineffabilities who persuaded me to share a fic that showcased my insider knowledge of Derby!

Actors Masterlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2019

A big thank you to @gwaynesprincess for beta reading this!

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

A/N: The rucksack is filled with your favourite drinks and snacks as well as extra hair bobbles and his own shopping bags to carry whatever the two of you collect during the day!

The sun was nowhere to be seen, instead the sky was littered with grey clouds and the odd pigeon here and there. Many would describe it as bleak, a fitting description for his location. The streets of the city centre were filled with the sounds of construction which would make you think perhaps it’s preparing for the upcoming Christmas Markets, wrong. There aren’t any Christmas Markets over here, only an ice rink if you’re lucky that year. With a grimace plastered across his face he sighed “I still have no idea why you’d want a tour of this place, love, there’s nothing to see. How about I take you to Nottingham tomorrow where they actually do have a Christmas Market hm?”

“Ewan, babe, I’ve come here to see where you grew up which is right here in Derby not half an hour away in Nottingham!” she refuted, eagerly dragging him along – to where, she wasn’t sure.

“Darling, there’s really nothing to see here, only a few pubs and there’s a decent milkshake place over there,” he fired back ready to head back to the lifts to the car park.

Grinning she manoeuvred herself, so she was before him, walking backwards, dragging him by both hands, “excellent, I’m absolutely parched and besides, aren’t you supposed to be calling me duck here baby?”

Letting out yet another sigh, Ewan resigned himself to his fate and a day of boredom before finally giving in and walking with his girl, pulling out his wallet “unless you’d like for us to get the attention of every girl within earshot then I won’t be calling you duck, my love its almost too common here”

“What and my love isn’t,” she teased leaning in to peck him on the cheek and he quickly took the chance to turn his head, earning himself a peck on the lips promptly followed by a reprimanding pat on the chest.

As they ordered their milkshakes Ewan racked his brain on what on earth he was going to do and how he was expected to provide an entertaining day when it was only three o’clock. Don’t get him wrong, Ewan didn’t hate Derby, but he had long made peace with the fact that it offered very little in terms of entertainment when compared to other bigger cities – sure there were still bowling alleys, escape rooms and a pub on every corner but that’s not exactly revolutionary anymore. This usually suited Ewan just fine when he came home from long shoots away from home and all he wanted was the comfort of doing mostly nothing but in this circumstance, it was a nightmare. Because this was her, his girl, the one. Yes, they had only been together for a few months, but things were going great, phenomenally even. She ticked every box of his and every night he’d send a prayer up to the sky that she felt the same about him. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet but he sure as hell felt it and if the way she looked at him was any inclination, then she did too. Which is why he wanted today to be perfect, he had to say it today – he feared he would combust if he didn’t.

His thoughts were interrupted by another soft tug on this hand as his girl led him over to collect their milkshakes, hers a combination of white chocolate and raspberry and his, a plain dairy milk – he was far too preoccupied to be adventurous today. After checking yet again that she was absolutely sure she wanted to stay, he reluctantly led her towards the pub that was a favourite of his brothers and had become the go to pub ever since he’d first been taken their by his parents when he was twelve ‘The Bless”, ensuring he went the long way to give them enough time for them to drink their milkshake, and for her to change her mind.

Stepping into the warmth of the pub after walking around the city centre was welcomed but he received it with a hint of annoyance due to it meaning that his girl unfurled herself from her position wrapped around his arm, body pressed against his. Although the blinding grin she flashed him as they walked to an available table in a corner towards the back made up for it, her opting to sit next to him on the booth, body leaning against his rather than on the chair opposite certainly did. The pub was relatively quiet due to it being a random Wednesday at three-thirty which Ewan was thankful for as it meant he was able to bury his face in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her skin as he responded to her questions without any shame.

Their drinks arrived, a water for his darling and an apple juice for him – a decision made after he advised her that it may be best to stay completely sober for what he has planned later, to which she excitedly probed him with questions and general triumphant remarks at her getting him to co-operate. As they sipped their drinks and made general conversation – gossiped – about anything and everything, Ewan couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous girl next to him, glancing over the eyes he so easily finds himself getting lost in, the slope of her nose and the lips that entice him in without even realising. He glances down to where her body meets his, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other switches between taking sips of her drink and wrapping around his, fingers dancing across his own as she plays with the cool metal of the ring on one of his digits.

“So, then I looked at her like yeah, I completely get it but honestly I have no idea what she was talking... mmph,” she was abruptly cut off by Ewan’s lips finding home and colliding with hers. After recovering from her shock, she eagerly responded thankful for the booth standing tall and curling around them as the arm Ewan wrapped around her shoulders tightened and near enough pulled her onto his lap. Believing she’d indulged him enough, his love pulled away as his hand had begun to snake its way up her soft brown knitted sweater.

Between refilling her lungs with air, she wondered where that had come from, his response came with a smirk that painted his angular face “well if you agree to end our little excursion, I’d be happy to give you the full package.”

To which she responded with a breathy laugh and a simple “as if I wouldn’t get it anyway”, rendering him momentarily speechless – because she wasn’t wrong – and she used the opportunity to pull him up by the lapels of his green coat, perfect for the chill in the air, and guided him back outside before demanding he take her to the next place.

With the thousandth sigh of the day, he did just that wrapping his arm around her waist this time and guiding her back into the centre’s main building to the car park, when he quickly explained they’d have to drive to the next location to narrowly avoid the shove coming his way as she believed he was yet again hoping to end their fun early. Reluctantly she agreed to get in the car but not before making him pinkie promise he wasn’t lying.

As Ewan parked up in what he can only assume is an actual parking spot – the car park was so run down he couldn’t really be sure – he took a quick look around, due to the fact that while this was shared between the ‘Rollerworld’ and the Indian restaurant next door ‘Slice of India’ that was its secondary use especially now that it had started getting dark sooner this time of year. With a light jog, he made his way around the front of the car to open the door for his love before she could even think about doing it herself – chivalry to him was not dead – and he happily accepted the “Cheers, Mitchell” and peck on the cheek, that actually landed on his cheek, he got in return.

Grasping her hand in his own (more like engulfing) he quickly led her around from the back of the building where the car park is to the front entrance, making quick work of paying for their entry before making their way up the steps that were far too steep to have a place so close to where people are roller skating. After giving their sizes to the guy behind the counter, Ewan and his love took a chance to survey the place. He again is thankful that it is a Wednesday and its less busy meaning fewer kids for him to accidentally run over or trample, he looks back over at her and sees she’s yet again grinning from ear to ear and has decided that while this certainly wasn’t how he’d have initially opted to spend the day, every second was worth it to see her so happy and he hopes she looks at him that way every day for the rest of their lives.

He was yet again snapped out of his musings by her dragging him over to the seats to put the skates on practically vibrating with excitement and he takes a moment to hope that his lack of roller skating over the past few years doesn’t catch up to him. Which, of course, it did. Multiple times. Any time he believed he had it, the universe sniggered and proved that he, in fact, did not. He wishes he was able to say that it was made worth it by his sweet girl being there aiding and reassuring him but well, if you looked at her any time he was reacquainted with the floor it would seem as though she had front row tickets to a Ricky Gervais comedy show – although she at least had the decency to attempt to ask if he was alright through her cackles.

Eventually, his legs started co-operating, his girl no longer laughed at him (mostly due to the pain her stomach was in for laughing all that time) and they embarked on a shared rhythm around the rink. Neither would admit to it under questioning due to the major cliché of it all, but they did indeed hold hands as they went – once she was sure he wouldn’t drag her down with him. About an hour after their arrival, they both gravitated towards the exit of the rink deciding to grab food on their way back home. As they debated where to go once they’d walked down the too steep stairs, Ewan suggested just popping over to the Indian buffet next door with the promise that the Chinese styled noodles were to die for. This caused her to softly chuckle while looking up at him through her lashes teasing about how “out of everything at the Indian food buffet his highlight was a different cuisine” and just as he was about to defend himself, he looked down at her. Really looked. He looked at the way she looked at him with the softest gaze he’d ever seen, the way she lightly bit her lip while waiting for a response and at the way the hints of her beautiful smile remained in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He dipped his head making direct eye contact and said the easiest three words of his life. Her face went from shocked, to happy, to elated as she responded with an “I love you” of her own in earnest. The tension that he didn’t even realise was there escaped his shoulders as he grasped the lapels of his own green coat wrapped around her and met her lips in a kiss that had him seeing spots of white behind his eyelids. A minute or five later, they pulled away from one another, took each other’s hands and walked into the restaurant, where the Chinese style noodles were indeed to die for.

Notes:

As I've said, likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated

As is constructive criticism, this is my first time writing so some kind pointers are welcome!

Thank you so much for reading!

[wstviewvidal]

fwb!wanda headcanons

pairing: fwb!wanda maximoff x reader

summary: headcanons based on my two small works breakfast and birthday!

a/n: thank you all so much for your love and support on my past two works! it means the world to me that at least two people like it lol.

minors do not interact

- fwb!wanda who finds herself staring at you with a love struck smile when you get ready at her vanity wearing her sleep clothes (she may or may not have candid pictures of you on your phone in said scenario)

- fwb!wanda who had a crush on you for the longest before the two of you slept together for the first time. she often found herself wondering what you were doing, and if you were doing okay. she usually always called you with a lame excuse of wanting to talk

- fwb!wanda who gives people death stares when they look at you for too long. she hates that she can’t vocalize or act on her jealousy due to the nature of your relationship

- fwb!wanda who laughs at every joke you tell her (even when they suck) and her friends making fun of her for it

- she absolutely loves when you sit on her lap on your own without her having to pull you into her. it makes her feel like you willingly seek her out, that her feelings for you aren’t as one sided as they may seem

- at parties, she knows you don’t like crowded spaces so she makes it a point to check in on you and keep an eye on you from wherever she’s at. she’ll text you from across the room, let me know when you want to leave. we can get food

- has a list of things you’ve said you liked and wanted (she uses this list to buy you gifts every month)

-your parents love wanda (granted they think she’s just your best friend and know nothing about your agreement) and she makes it a point to get to know them personally because she hopes someday she’ll ask for their blessing

- wanda who will make reservations for dinner for the two of you and, if you’re late, will order you whatever she knows you’ll like.

- you gave her a necklace a few years ago as a gift and you’ve yet to see her without it on. she changes all of her jewelry often, always adding to her collection, but this necklace is the one thing that’s never changed

- wanda loves to compliment you because of how flustered you get, the way you roll your eyes and try to look away so she won’t see the blush on your face

- she is a flirt. she will flirt with no shame, doesn’t matter where or who you’re with. she will try to woo you at any moment

- although she’s such a sweetheart to you, she has a dirty mind and will often throw her thoughts at you while doing the most mundane tasks. (innocently, she acts like she didn’t say them after you ask her to repeat herself)

- when you two go out, she never allows you to open a door. she insists that it’s better if only one of you touches the door so it minimizes the risk of the germs getting you two getting sick (but you know better)

- when you two would study together in college, she would try to subtly ask if you were seeing anyone (you know why she was asking but never acknowledged it)

- whenever you two go out to eat, you two always give each other the first bite of whatever you’re eating

- on your way home from work, you always call wanda to ask her how her day went (not because you were dying to hear her voice all day..)

- wanda’s a few inches taller than you and loves it. she loves being able to reach things on the tall shelf for you, she loves being useful

- when you told wanda that a guy was flirting with you at work, she took it upon herself to send you a gigantic bouquet of flowers because she said it was her duty as your friend to protect you (not because she was jealous..)

- wanda who is absolutely head over heels for you and often finds it hard to not act like your girlfriend (not that you mind)

[syluslnd]

Could you maybe do one where reader is a tomboy but decides to wear a skirt in front of Sylus for the first time for a date but is really shy about it? And maybe when he sees how shy she is, he teases her about it? :3

wearing a skirt for the first time in front of sylus

The restaurant was extravagant with glittering chandeliers and white linen tablecloths and you felt out of place as soon as you stepped through the doors. The soft, unfamiliar swish of the skirt you wore made you tug at the fabric, self-conscious. This was the first time you’d ever worn one and it was just for him—Sylus, who had insisted on taking you to this fancy place for a “proper night out.”

As you stood just inside the entrance, nervously smoothing your skirt, you saw Sylus waiting for you near your table. His eyes locked on you immediately, widening just a fraction as he took in your outfit—a soft blouse paired with a modest skirt that fell just above your knees.

“Well, well” he said with a smirk, moving towards you, his gaze practically gleaming. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “It’s just a skirt, Sylus” you muttered, looking down, fidgeting with the hem.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to tip your chin up so you’d look at him. “Oh, I know, sweetie. But it’s on you.” His tone was teasing but there was warmth in his eyes, the usual sharp edge of his gaze softened. “I didn’t even know you owned a skirt. Did you have to raid someone else’s closet for this?”

You scowled, though it lacked any real bite. “No! I… I bought it. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight?” His smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—a glint of genuine appreciation. “Now I feel special.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten. This is more than enough for me.” He took your hand and led you to the table, clearly enjoying every bit of your discomfort.

When you sat down, Sylus didn’t let up. “You keep tugging at that skirt like it’s going to run away” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

You glanced at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “I just… I’m not used to this. That’s all.” You tried to focus on the menu, hoping the red on your face wasn’t too obvious.

He chuckled, setting his menu aside as he leaned in. “I can tell.” His voice dropped, becoming softer, almost… affectionate. “You look beautiful, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—well—” You stumbled over your words, suddenly finding it impossible to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen you in a hundred different things but this… this is something new.” He let his eyes roam over you for a moment and you could feel his gaze even without looking at him. “And I have to say, I think I could get used to this view.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it” he said, his smirk returning. “You get all shy and it’s… cute.” His voice softened, a warmth in it that was hard to ignore.

“Cute?” you repeated, rolling your eyes in a weak attempt to hide your smile. “Right, because I’m so cute.”

“Yes” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours, completely serious for once. “Yes, you are.”

You felt yourself blush all over again, your heart pounding as you met his eyes. There was something more in his gaze, something that went beyond teasing, something that had been simmering under the surface for a while now.

And as you sat there, fidgeting in your skirt and trying to keep your cool, Sylus reached across the table, his fingers brushing over yours in a small, reassuring gesture. “Next time, you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But… if you do, I won’t mind one bit.”

Your heart fluttered and for once, you found yourself smiling back.

[leth-writes]

Some thoughts about Tim and the Batfam

SUMMARY: just thinking about Tim and the batfam

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans. HEAVY discussion of drugging and taking away of autonomy.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Tim is a really interesting person, in general. I’m just obsessed with the idea of him drugging a darling, just keeping them all pliant and sleepy and curled up in his bed, even if he’s platonic. 

He spends a lot of time just…watching you, whether that be through cameras or in real life.

You never find the cameras, even though you know they’re there. If you asked him, he wouldn’t deny it. Why would he? There’s nothing you could do about it, and he honestly doesn’t trust your opinions on your own safety. Tim views you as quite innocent and naive, and that’s part of why he spends so much time building a little cocoon in the bed for you to curl up in, your soft snuffles just barely moving the light sheet he’s laid around you.

Just. UGH. I think at first he’d drug your food.

But you start noticing, and you start avoiding food. This sets the rest of the batfam off; is TIm not taking care of you properly?!

(They sometimes talk about you like a pet. It’s weird. You’ve learned not to mention it.)

In response, you’re tied down with soft satin straps and drugged out of your mind through an IV. You’re on an all-liquid diet, practically seeing stars. Tim doesn’t need you conscious or coherent, just safe from harm, after all.

I could even see him putting you in a temporary coma, at least until the heat from your kidnapping dies down. 

I can’t get  over the idea of you just. Trusting him so much, so naively, and he’s just. Fucking drugging your hot chocolate to get you to the manor, he knows if he doesn’t then Jason will and Jason won’t be as gentle about it.

UGH just imagine him doing those exercises every day with you to keep your muscles from atrophying AGHHHH

You wake up afterwards, it’s dark and your mouth is dry. You try to sit up- and you can’t. You’re too weak, too tired from the still-present drugs coursing through your veins. It’s then you see a bright flash, illuminating the corner and it’s FUCKING TIM JUST STANDING THERE

He uses his best camera, just dedicates it to pictures of you, creates an album.

He shows it to everyone else, they’re all cooing and aweing and you’re just sitting there like HELLO PLEASE LET ME LEAVE 🙁

Eventually he might even give you a bit of a choice. You can eat the food, or you can get an injection. When you take the injection you lose an entire day of time, and who knows what the FUCK happened? (nothing, Tim just. Spent most of the day working, occasionally taking the time to brush a hand over your face, just gently tracing your features.)

The others start to get annoyed Tim’s hogging you, and he gets you a wheelchair. You’re too weak, too drugged to be able to move yourself around, and he somehow manages to put some sort of thing on the wheels that lock if you try to go out the door. Like the fucking Grocery Carts.

He starts wheeling you around, letting you see the garden and the birds and Batcow. You spend a lot of time in the library with Alfred the cat curled in your lap, purring as you try to follow the plot of a simple book, your eyes too blurry to see the words properly.

Jason’ll read to you, he likes the bonding time. Plus, your eyes can’t really focus on anyone’s face too long, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being scared by the scars ripped into his skin by his death.

Cass’ll roll you into her studio, prop you against the wall, and just do a stunning routine. Unfortunately you can’t see it very well, and you clap really slowly because your hands feel like they’re filled with lead. She appreciates the effort.

Dick eventually takes over your stretches, though he does sometimes have to fight Bruce for the right. Both love helping you gently stretch out your limbs, admiring the shaking that only comes from intense effort. You’re cute, like a newborn lamb.

It’s infuriating watching Dick do all these complicated moves, while you can barely lift your head, but oh well, they’re so happy you’re here!!

Damian treats you like a younger sibling, even though you’re significantly older than him. He adores having this position of power over you, and abuses it to spend most of his time with you just. Showing you his animals. Titus is practically your emotional support dog at this point, and he trains Ace to be your guard dog.

Bruce loves having you curled up in the office, snoring slightly on the couch, as he slowly wades his way through work. He’ll throw a blanket over you, even as you whimper and shy away from the food he’s hand-feeding you. You aren’t allowed to feed yourself anymore, hell you can barely lift your hand to your mouth.

You eventually get used to spending all your time just. Hanging around, sleeping and letting everyone else do everything for you.

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - III"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Drugging, Attempted Kidnapping, Stalking

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

No, no. Not happening. Never.

You need money. But you won’t get it through unscrupulous means. You still have your morals, and you’ll abide by them. That’s why you saved Kylar. That’s why you’d save him again, should it happen in the future.

You push the thought out of your mind and exit the temple. As you pass by Danube Street, a thought hits you. 

The spa. Why haven’t you been working at the spa? 

It’s not really an early-game option due to the stat checks required, but those shouldn’t be a problem for you. With your hand skill at C by default and your beauty over the max, working as a masseur is as simple as walking up and asking for work. 

You head over and ask for work, and the lady at the front desk takes one look at your hands and gasps. Her bored demeanor quickly melts away into an excited one as she quickly shows you the ropes. You get the basics down pretty quickly and soon take your first client, a trim woman who looks to be in her early 30s.

“Hello, I’ve not done this before. Do I just lie down?” That makes two of us, you think to yourself. 

“That’s right! Just lie down, and I’ll take care of the rest,” you say, smiling. The trim woman seems reassured and quickly lies down on the table. You get to work on her shoulders and neck first, cautiously looking for knots and tension as you knead her muscles. The woman relaxes under your touch and begins to make small talk. She tells you about her family, how her kids are both bright young boys, and her husband brings her flowers every month. She seems really happy. -Trauma -Stress

She leaves you a tip. You make £75. 

Your next client is less friendly, but you manage to massage her without incident. She leaves you a tip. You make £80 and decide to take a break, feeling a little worn out from standing on your feet for nearly two hours straight. After fifteen minutes, you get up and head back into the spa, where you take on another two clients. They both leave tips, and you make £120. The spa closes after that, and you head outside. 

Someone throws a water balloon at you from a nearby car, soaking your shirt and leaving it near-invisible. You hear cheers as they speed away, leaving you soaked out in the open. +Stress

You look around, but luckily, no one is around to see your predicament. You cover yourself with your arms as best as you can and head home. You take the alleys to avoid passersby seeing you, walking quickly in hopes of getting home sooner. You don’t watch where you’re going and end up walking right into someone. 

“Watch where you’re going, you—!” You look up, about to apologize, when you see icy blue eyes staring back at you. It’s Whitney, his face, only inches from yours, changes from anger to a smug smile.”Well, what do we have here? A slut all out on her own?” Whitney’s friends giggle. 

“Why is she walking around so exposed?” One delinquent asks. “Is she a pervert?” They giggle, crowding around you.

“I wanna get a picture!” Soon, all the delinquents are pulling out their phones. Suddenly torn between the desire to cover your face and your chest, you end up hiding behind the thing closest to you, which ends up being Whitney. He seems taken aback but soon wraps an arm around you protectively. +Love

“Fuck off,” he says, arm still around your waist. “Get your own slut.” The others seem disappointed but comply regardless. When everyone’s phone has been put away, Whitney releases you and shrugs off his jacket. 

“Can’t fuck a sick person,” he says, throwing his jacket over you. “Make sure to give it back. Now fuck off.” He shoves you out of the alleyway, leaving you stunned. Did that really just happen? 

You check your phone.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 5% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40%       Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100% 

You walk home with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. It smells like smoke.

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £729 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are alert Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

After waking up and finishing your morning routine, you go to Robin’s room and play video games with him for an hour. Some of the games remind you of those you used to play back home. +Love -Trauma +Stress 

“It’s almost time for school,” he says. “Do you want to come with me?” You smile and nod. Robin stands up from the bed and puts his controller away. He holds the door open for you as you leave, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks as you pass. You swear you saw him glance down. +Lust

You’re suddenly reminded that you’re in a yandere game and that Robin is a target character. ++Stress

You grimace as you round a corner and resist the urge to cover your butt as Robin walks behind you. Your skirt is so short he can probably see your underwear as you walk. +++Stress

You see Bailey holding a mousy girl by the arms, a bundle of rope in his other hand. 

“You owe me £200 this week,” he says. The girl is holding back tears but still manages to keep a strong look about her. Robin looks away. The other orphans do the same. They all look…resigned. You step forward. 

“I’ll pay,” you say. “Let her go.” Bailey raises an eyebrow but releases the girl. You hand over the £200 without fuss. It’s only after parting with the money that you remember you could have just pepper-sprayed him and gained some catharsis. You don’t really need to be stingy with it, after all. Bailey counts the money and leaves, leaving the mousy girl to dust herself off.

“Thank you,” the mousy girl says. “I was really scared.” 

“Will you be okay?” You ask her. She nods. She seems genuinely okay. 

“Yes, thanks to you. I promise I’ll pay you back for this,” she says, running off. 

“You don’t have to!” You call out after her, but she’s already gone. 

You did a good thing today. -Trauma -Stress

“That was really impressive,” Robin says. “It’s not often people stand up to Bailey.” You shrug, and Robin cracks a smile. +Love

You and Robin chat on the way to school, mostly about the games you played earlier. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. You have to suppress a shiver every time you accidentally meet his gaze. +Stress

“I just don’t understand why they’d make a tutorial so difficult,” Robin says, shaking his head. “Maybe-” He’s cut off by something, eyes widening. You follow his gaze and see two hooded figures approaching rapidly from the alleyway you just passed. You reach for your pepper spray as the figures get closer, unhooking it from its keychain and holding it at the ready. 

“It’s her,” one says. You waste no time and spray them both, then grab Robin’s arm and sprint to safety with him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Crime (Assault) +Stress +Fatigue

You don’t stop running until you reach the school gates and are safely behind them. You and Robin pant heavily as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline. 

“Where did you get that?!” Robin whisper-yells. 

“A kid in my English class makes them,” you say at a normal volume. Robin’s look of concern only grows, and he spends a few minutes lecturing you on the dangers and illegalities of pepper spray. You mostly tune him out. 

The bell rings, finally putting an end to Robin’s monologue, and you head to class. You focus on the lesson, and Sirris calls you up to the front of the class. A student uses a ruler to flash your panties to everyone. To make matters worse, Sirris wanted you to undress for the demonstration. You comply, feeling humiliated as the class leers at your body. +++Stress

The bell rings, and you rush out of the classroom. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you walk. Your ears are ringing, your heartbeat is too loud, the world is spinning, and—

It’s all too much for you. You pass out. 

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You wake up with something soft yet firm under your head and Sydney right above you. 

“You’re awake!” He says. “I was worried. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I brought you back to the library.” “Not the nurse?” You say, getting up. You realize that you’ve been lying on Sydney’s lap. Sydney looks sheepish. 

“I didn’t think of that,” he says, not meeting your gaze. He looks genuine, but you get the feeling he’s not being honest. +Awareness 

Sydney insists you stay with him for another ten minutes so he can monitor your condition. When you ask about going to the nurse again he makes an excuse of not knowing if you’re good to walk. You decide not to push it any further and spend the next ten minutes chatting with Sydney. When the ten minutes are up, he looks hesitant to let you go but relents regardless. +Love +Lust -Sydney’s purity

By the time you leave, it’s already lunch. You missed two classes. ++Deliquency

Feeling stressed from everything, you decide to sit alone in hopes of relaxing. You should have known better, however, as a group of students soon come by to make your day harder. The second they start jeering at you, you unhook your pepper spray and blast them all in the face. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status

The students are screaming and hurling insults, but the ringing in your ears makes it impossible to hear them. You finish your lunch in silence. 

You spend the rest of school zoning out, hoping your stress will subside. It works, kind of. 

You have detention, but you don’t feel like going. Considering all the shit you pulled today, Leighton is probably going to take off your clothes and smack you or something. You don’t have good enough grades to know where the tunnel from school is, so you walk out the front. Leighton tries to stop you, but you pepper spray him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status 

A group of students say they’re going to the lake. You could use a change of scenery. You join them. +Status

Hanging out at the lake is fun enough. No one tries to grope you after what happened at lunch, so you end up having a somewhat enjoyable time. 

Then they start bullying another student, who thankfully isn’t here to listen to them shit-talking them, and what little fun you were having quickly melts away. You stand up and walk away, deciding to go for a swim instead. You think about retrieving the lichen for your science project but push the thought out of your mind. 

You swim for about an hour, and when you exit the water, the sun is already beginning to set. Your fellow classmates are still hanging out, but you don’t really feel like joining them, so you put on your clothes and go for a walk, planning to head back after you’re done.

You hear a bullet firing from afar. Something is hunting you.

Fuck. You whip around, trying to locate the source of the bullet. You heard it shoot from behind you, but you don’t see anyone. Going back the way you came might mean running straight into their arms. You glance around one last time, but a second gunshot has you running on your feet in no time.

You dash through the woods, not bothering to look behind you as the gun fires off in the near distance. You don’t think they’re shooting at you, and running zig-zag like you were taught as a kid just means slowing down. So, you run straight ahead with no clear plan in mind. You unhook your pepper spray again (you should probably thank Kylar), just in case, but you don’t know how much good it will do in a gunfight. Still, something is better than nothing, so you hold onto it, keeping it close to your chest as you run, run, run.

Your foot hits something strange and loses balance. You don’t even have time to process it until you’re lifted upside-down by your heel, face to inverted face with a plant person. 

“I caught one!” The plant girl exclaims. “This one’s wearing lacey panties!” You spray her, and she falls, her vines releasing you instantly. It’s only when you see sap pouring out from a hole on the side of her head that you hear the gunshot and realize it wasn’t you that took her down.

“Got you,” Eden says, a hand on your shoulder. You try to turn around, but the second you move, you’re on the ground, nose pressed into the soil, and arms pinned behind you in a painful grip. You feel your pepper spray being torn from your hand and thrown next to a bush. 

Shit. Shit!

He’s got you in a submission hold. There’s nothing you can do but go along with it and wait for an opportunity. It takes everything in you not to thrash and scream against his hold, but you know that would only make things worse. Eden runs his hand down your back, stopping when he gets to the hem of your skirt. He flips it up, taking a moment to admire it before giving it a light slap. You jump when he hits you, though it’s more about the surprise than the pain.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry, trying your best to sound helpless. “Please let go!” You weakly struggle against his grip for good measure. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, voice gruff. “Can’t do that. You’ll run away.” 

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Please, please, let me go!” You wiggle around, pretending this is as much strength as you can muster up. Eden leans down and studies your expression for a moment. You can feel the outline of his cock on your back as he leans down to look at you. The scrutiny in such a position is near-unbearable, but he releases you without a word. 

You force yourself to be still for a moment, not to do anything that would alert him. Then, slowly, you turn around and, mustering up every bit of courage you have, lean up and kiss him. He seems taken aback but soon reciprocates the gesture. You press into him, stroking and massaging his skin as you cautiously lean him back into a more desirable position. 

Though it costs you your dignity, you’re eventually able to get on top of him, grinding against him through his pants as you lower him to the ground. When you’ve got him completely below you, and you’re straddling his hips, you break the kiss and pull yourself up. 

“I think it's time we get rid of these,” you say, grabbing your panties and lifting your hips, then swaying them suggestively. You shift your weight to one knee and lift your other leg up, then, in a sudden, adrenaline-charged burst of speed, you throw yourself off of him and stagger to your feet. You kick him in the crotch and run towards the bush where your pepper spray landed. 

Eden catches your foot, and you nosedive towards the ground. You fall, but pepper spray is just within reach. You grab it and go limp. Eden drags your body closer to his, and you use it as an opportunity to spray him. He grabs his eyes and recoils, and you quickly gather yourself and run back the way you came. 

Your clothes snag on bushes and branches as you run, but you pay it no mind as you force yourself to run. You can’t hear anything but the wind in your ears, so you have no idea if Eden is chasing you or not. 

Silly you, it shouldn’t have been Eden you were worrying about. 

You feel yourself hit the ground before you even register being knocked down. There’s a growling above you and two hands on either side of your body. You twist around, barely even registering the wolf ears and sharp teeth of the man on top of you. You spray him, and he staggers back. You rush to your feet and keep running until you’re safely out of the forest. Your clothes are practically in scraps by the time you’re out, and at this point, you think it’ll be cheaper to just buy new clothes instead of fixing them. 

Then, it hits you. The pain and exhaustion. 

You drop to your knees, suddenly aware of every scratch, scrape, and bruise you acquired while running through the forest, suddenly aware of the strain on your muscles from the fatigue. You stay sitting for a few minutes, waiting for your muscles to stop hurting or for you to stop caring. When you notice the sun is starting to set, you pull yourself up and drag yourself back home, where you run a bath and then go straight to bed. 

—————————

It is Friday, the 9th of September, 2022. -It has been 5 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You are upset Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You get up and check your socials on your phone.

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible Primary relationships:  Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.              Fascination: 100% Love: 5% Devotion: 30% Lust: 40%         Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Jealousy: 5% Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 10% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100%  Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you.       Fascination: 100% Love: 9% Devotion: 55% Jealousy: 55%        Lust: 90% Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted.       Fascination: 70% Love: 8% Devotion: 25% Purity: 20%        Jealousy: 0% Lust: 70%  Avery The Businessman Avery thinks you’re cute.     Fascination: 55% Love: 1% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 30% Rage: 0% Eden The Hunter Eden wants you back.     Fascination: 80% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 100% Black Wolf The Alpha Black Wolf wants to see you again. Reputation:  The police consider you a person of interest, and have enough evidence for an arrest. The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. You are considered a normal student by teachers. Your fellow students desire you. Lust: 100% Status: 60% Sex: Unknown. Prostitution: Unknown. Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown. Exhibitionism: Obscure. Pregnancy: Unknown. Combat: Low-key. Kindness: Obscure. Business: Unknown. Socialite: Unknown. Overall: Notorious. The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

Your eyes hover over your police reputation. You sigh. You’ll have to visit Landry after school. You throw your covers off of you and climb out of bed, groggily going to your wardrobe. 

Right. Your clothes got torn. You pick up an undamaged skirt and shirt, tossing the tattered garments into the trash. You put on your clothes and pick up your bag, not bothering to stop by Robin’s room this morning. You take a bus to the shopping center, where you do what you should have done on day one: buy clothes that actually cover you. You browse for a few minutes, looking for something as pervert-proof as possible. You settle on a school blouse, shorts, a sports bra, suspenders, and a pair of work boots. 

The shorts provide you protection against people lifting your skirt, the suspenders (which you’ll have to sew on) keep you from being pantsed, the sports bra can’t be unclipped and provides support in case you need to run, and the work boots will help you keep your footing when you need to go to the moor or the woods. 

You buy what you’re wearing as well as a few backups of the shorts and shirt, totaling £215. You pay and leave, arriving at school just in time for your science class. Today’s Friday, so you have a chance to improve your grades if you do well on the tests. 

The lesson pace is a little different from usual. It’s just a review of everything you’ve learned this week. Nothing new is being covered, so you don’t bother to take notes. Not that you’ve had any time to study your notes since coming here.

The test is easy enough, despite your terrible study habits, and you manage to improve your grade to a D. -Stress

The rest of the day continues similarly, and soon you have D’s all across the board. --Stress

You go to the pub after school, looking around for a thin man or woman with black hair and a grey sweater. You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. It’s a tall man you’ve never seen before. He’s covered in tattoos.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, booze on his breath. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you. You’re the talk of the town. Bit surprising not seeing you being fucked raw, though.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “I reckon it’s time I got my slice of the pie. You like it rough, right? That’s what I’ve heard. Come ‘ere, sweetheart.” 

“Am I interrupting?” You hear a man’s voice, and the tall man’s hand on your shoulder loses it’s grip. You look over to see the face of your savior and realize it’s the very person you were looking for. Your face shifts to one of relief. -Stress

“Yeah,” he says. “Piss off.”

“I recognize you.” 

“You should, I come here more often than I-” 

“March 3rd, 2009. Nightingale Street.” The tall man pales. “So you know what I’m talking about. I wasn’t there myself, but I’ve heard the stories. You were the talk of the town.” 

The tall man stutters. “Y-you’re not with the fuzz. You won’t turn me in.”

“You don’t know that. And either way, we both know you’re not hiding from the police. So how about you let her go, and I won’t tip off the Elk about your latest haunt.” The tall man looks at you, then Landry, then you again. Landry smiles. He throws his hands off of you.

“Fine. Shit, fine. You her lover? You picked a damn slutty one.” Landry waits until the man is out of earshot before turning to you. 

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to talk to you in private.”

“Reputation isn’t always a good thing,” Landry says as you sit down. “Word’s spread about you. You’re notorious. That’s why that drunkard went for you. You remember what he said, right?” 

“I haven’t even done anything,” you say. 

“No, but you’re pretty while doing it,” Landry retorts. “Not hitting on you,” he says. 

“Thanks?” 

“It’s not a good thing. You attract attention wherever you go. Where a normal person might have to fuck a hundred people to start getting known as a slut around town, you’d only have to fuck one.” 

“Oh,” you say, slinking in your seat. “So, what can I do?” 

“I think I can help you,” he pauses. “Well, not me. But I think I know someone. This orphan at the home on Domus Street. A computer whiz. Mickey, or McKay, something like that. Best hope is to find this orphan. If you can get them to come work with me, they’ll be able to hook you up. There’ll be some money in it for you, too. Just don’t step on Bailey’s toes.” You nod. 

“Thank you,” you say. Landry smiles.

“There’s another thing, too,” he says. “I’ll be frank. I know you need money. Don’t ask me how I know, word gets around. I think I can help you. If you come across any jewelry or other items you don’t know what to do with, I can take them off your hands. I’ll pay well.” He looks over your shoulder. “As well as can be expected, anyway.” 

“Can you help me get the police off my trail?”

“I can help you,” he says, reclining. “But I need you to do something for me. And no, it’s not about money. I was expecting a package, but it never arrived. Good thing I know where to find it, it had a GPS tracker. It got lost somewhere deep in the moor. Get it for me, and I’ll prevent any of your past misdemeanors being pinned on you. It’s a small black box.” You nod and stand. 

“Oh, and do be careful,” Landry says. “I don’t believe the tales of monsters, but there’s a sensible reason behind some superstitions.” 

You’re already wearing work boots, but you want to wear something that you can afford to tear, too. Preferably something resistant that can protect you. But you don’t have the money for that, so you head back to the orphanage and wear the only other outfit you have, a sundress. You put your pepper spray keychain on your bookbag and take it with you, hoping you won’t run out during this trip. 

After double checking everything is in order, you leave the orphanage and begin to make the long trek to the moor. 

Several people attempt to pick you up along the way. By which you mean literally every person who passes by you has slowed down to talk and ask where you’re headed. Not willing to risk anything, you turn them all down, running when they get too persistent. By the time you finally make it to the farmlands, you’re exhausted. So you sit down near the entrance to rest, knowing you’ll need your energy for the moor. 

“You alright there?” Someone asks. You look up to see a suntanned boy under a straw hat, looking concerned. He looks around your age, with red hair and a boyish appearance. He must be Alex, you realize.

“It was just a really long walk to get here,” you admit sheepishly. 

“You walked all the way from town?” You nod. “Well, Jesus! No wonder you’re so tired. Come in and get some water, my place isn’t far.” 

“Do you own the farm?” 

“Yeah, I do! It’s a work in progress, but it’s home.” You smile. 

Alex is right, and it doesn’t take long to reach the cottage, where he offers you a glass of water. You thank him and gulp it down. +++Drugged

…Huh?

You stare at your phone. The screen seems to shift.

Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged A lewd warmth fills you Your perception is altered

You look back up to Alex, who’s staring at you with a grin. You stand up but nearly fall. Alex stands with you, his hands on your shoulders. 

“Easy, there,” he says as if you’re a horse that needs to calm down. You shove him off of you and  run, reaching for your pepper spray, but in your altered state, you can’t figure out how to unhook it. 

>Try again (Skullduggery: Impossible) >Rip it off (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You rip it off, but the fabric holds firm. Alex is close behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You try again and the fabric doesn’t yield. Alex is right behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

This is taking too long. You spray without unhooking, managing to get Alex, but in your flailing, also manage to spray yourself. +++Pain ++Willpower

You run, you don’t even know where you’re going you just run.

You can’t open your eyes, but you know they wouldn’t be of much help in this state, anyway. You run until you hit what feels like tall grass, then slow. You’re in the moor now. 

You try to quiet your breathing as you listen for anything that may be chasing you or lying in wait. You hear nothing. You go a little further in, just enough to be hidden among the grass and wait. 

Eventually, the pain subsides, and you open your bleary eyes. You still feel unsteady, though, so you wait longer. It takes another forty minutes for you to regain full balance and control of your body. When you do, you trudge deeper into the moor, relying on the map on your phone to guide you to the box. After what feels like two hours of searching, you finally find the box across from some water. 

You grimace as you step in, your shoes and socks instantly soaking with dirty water. The water is about knee-high, so not enough to touch your sundress but just enough to make movement heavily uncomfortable. You hobble over the box, just about to reach it, when you feel something suck you in. 

You look behind you and recognize the thing as a lurker. You waste no time and spray it, freeing yourself and grabbing the box before leaving. 

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and just as you leave the water, you see a terrible shadow overhead. You look up and notice a harpy in the sky. You are being hunted.

You start to run. Your pursuer approaches rapidly. ++Stress

You run faster, pushing yourself to your limits as you sprint across the moor. But luck is never on your side, and your foot sinks into something as you land. You look down, and it’s a fucking foxhole. Not big enough for you to run through or hide in. You pull yourself out, but it’s too late. 

“Found wife,” he says. You spray him and keep running. That should keep him out of commission for a while. 

Eventually, you feel safe enough to walk the rest of the way out of the moor. You sneak around the farmlands and begin to walk the rest of the way home. You’re too tired to make it very far, however, and soon pass out on the road. You feel yourself being lifted onto a stretcher before passing out again.

You’ve unlocked a fragment.

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[myokk]

Hi! I'm still feral for these two, would you mind giving us some art of them in their later years together!?

Hello angel!!!!

Sorry it’s taken so long to respond🫶🫶 but I wanted to draw some new art for this ask💓

We have: Sebastian and Eloise trying out their new fancy camera with a selfie, pictures of them with their daughter, and finally…idk I just always felt like this drawing is when they’re a bit older💓

I want to take this ask as an opportunity as well to talk a little about how I imagine their future (I have no chill & you can ignore this and just enjoy the art if you want😇).

I am a COMPLETE pantser - I never know how a chapter’s going to end when I start writing it (I always just have a few scenes I know I need to include to keep the plot moving forward). Although I have different *big* scenes I’m always writing towards, and themes/plot elements I’m always foreshadowing (shout out to @elliecutte for catching *almost* all of my hints and appreciating my general no chill😆), IM STILL NOT 100% SURE HOW I WILL END THINGS !!! 😳 I have a lot of endings I see as possible, and I think soon it will become more clear to me what will work the best💓

HAPPY ENDING:

Eloise and Sebastian become Unspeakables. I have a LOT of thoughts on this profession that could be its OWN post, and I feel like Unspeakables are generally specialized in one or two departments, but as their interests/research change they also change.

Eloise becomes an Unspeakable in the Mind and Death departments, with the occasional foray into Time. Her ancient magic is connected with all of these things (my version of AM is NOT like the game) & the Department of Mysteries is one of the only places that gives her any useful information about these things. Plus she thinks too much (it IS her hobby after all😆💓) and is very introverted so a hermit job like this is a perfect fit.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable as well, but I feel like it takes him a long time to specialize in anything, if he ever does. I just feel like becoming an Unspeakable is the adult equivalent of sneaking into the Restricted Section🥹🫶

They grow old together (I won’t explain TOO much) & have a lovely little family🥹 at least one daughter that they both dote on. Sebastian had an amazing childhood (idyllic until it wasn’t), and wants to give his daughter the same, and Eloise works hard to make sure their daughter feels the love that she never had growing up🥺

When Sirius is burned off the family tree, Eloise and Sebastian take him in🥹🫶 (they’re like 100 years old but WIZARDS LIVE LONGER…) The same happened to her all those years ago, and she wants him to know that his whole family hasn’t abandoned him.

Eloise LOVED her nieces - Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa - when they were younger, but as Voldemort becomes more powerful & people realize WHAT he’s doing, she has to separate herself from them. Her heart breaks seeing Bellatrix go mad, and seeing Narcissa engaged to a Malfoy out of obligation😔 (iykyk)

I haven’t thought any more about happy ending but I think it’s fun to think about how their future story might weave in with the actual canon events, ESPECIALLY since Eloise is a Black🥹💓

SAD ENDING:

After Sebastian gets his hands on Slytherin’s relic, it really starts to consume him and makes him even MORE obsessive than his natural tendencies - I imagine it similarly “talking” to him like Slytherin’s locket/horcrux did in Deathly Hallows (😳)

Eloise is deathly afraid of the changes she’s seeing in Sebastian and steals it from him (he would never willingly give it to her ESPECIALLY if it starts to feel like a precious item to him)

BUT the relic triggers the latent Black Family Madness in her - the madness that afflicts almost every woman in her family since…🤭 - and she herself starts to lose touch with reality. Her body and soul are already destroying themselves between the curse and the ancient magic inside of her, and the relic is what triggers it in her.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable, focusing on the Mind, in a desperate attempt to find a cure for his Eloise🥺

He never gives up his research, and sometimes when he comes home she is lucid and they talk about his research - otherwise, he just loves and takes care of her.

(He’s never successful in finding a way to reverse what he feels he caused in the first place - his ambition and single-mindedness is, to him, the reason why all of this happened)

Honestly who knows if I end their story either of these ways😌 I just love thinking of AUs and different endings and I have a few others I’ve considered as well!!! And whatever endings I don’t write will be immortalized on this blog and in my art as well🙏

[muffinsin]

i just read this post

https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/739024633405308928/anon-here-my-fav-is-bela-though-i-totally-get

about gp! dimi sisters giving reader just the tip and i loved it!!! so if it’s okay and if not already done, could you do one for donna if you write gp for her?

i love all your stuff btw!

Absolutely, hon!🙇‍♀️ Some more Donna in our lives never hurts XP! Other parts here

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

With a flushed face and a racing heart you look up at her, finding her dark eye at last. She’s hovering just mere inches above you, her breasts pushing down against you, her eye set on you, her thighs brushing against you and her cock- no, only her tip- pushed into you.

You squirm, helpless to do anything else due to the ribbons tying your wrists together. Already, you regret your actions, wishing you had been good instead. Now, you pay the price, all your pleads and whimpers falling onto deaf ears. You want- no, need her. Need all of her.

Alas, your punishment for today is obvious, clear as day to you, and so bittersweet.

You whine, your eyes wide. “Please, my love”, you plead.

“Please, just a little more, my love! I’ll be good now! Just…just a little more, a little…a little more!”, you whine, squirming to try and get her deeper inside. Stopping this abruptly, you gasp when she grabs your hips, her grip strong, her strong, skilled fingers pressing into your flesh.

“Now, Tesoro, I thought you said you’d be good this morning already…”, she coos, her voice low and seductive, enough to make your head spin.

Using her free hand she reaches down, and you can only whine as she begins to jerk herself off, thrusting her hand and occasionally sliding her fingers across her balls. And still, it’s only her tip that she grants you.

Feeling utterly edged and sensitive, you cry and squirm, little pleas slipping from your lips like water from a waterfall.

“Please, my love!”

“I’m sorry, Fiore!”

“Please, just a little bit! Just halfway in, my love!”

“I’ve learned my lesson!”, you insist, flushing when she laughs lowly and merely jerks herself off a little faster.

“Oh…tesoro, mi fai divertire”

You begin to feel more and more flustered, your body held down and in place, your arms restrained, her tip just barely inside of you. Still, you feel precum drool from her, feel how warm and wet she is. You drool, thinking of how she could just push herself inside fully at any time.

Alas, she isn’t, she doesn’t, and she won’t. Not until she feels you have learned your lesson. And you know, Donna is unfortunately, at least in this instance, very, very patient.

You gasp when she leans down, her tongue trailing along your neck, her hair tickling your skin gently.

“I have told you what would happen when you don’t behave, Tesoro”, she whispers, scolding playfully. Yes, she has. Punishment- but she never clarified it would be this, this..this agony! You can only squirm and try to roll your hips to no avail. You’re sure, you could cum instantly if she just pushed herself inside already!

“This isn’t…fair!”, you whine, feeling so terribly needy. Before this, you thought edging was the worst thing she could do, or denying you an orgasm all together. This is worse: this way, you don’t even feel her inside properly, can barely feel her head push and pulse inside of you, drooling precum inside.

She chuckles, the sound low and breathless, a sign she’s getting closer to an orgasm, too.

“Would you like me to pull out entirely, love?”, she asks, then, her voice a little lighter. Oh, she’s teasing you, and you’re helpless in the face of her dominance. You quickly shake your head, begging her not to. You don’t know why, but you just can’t bear to lose the tip, too, you desperately need more of her.

“Please…my love…I need it…!”, you plead instead, trying a different approach.

You gasp when her hand trails up to your neck, then, whereas the other works faster between her own legs, pulling moans and grunts from her.

“Then tell me how bad you need it, my doll”, she coos, arousal pooling in her dark eye.

Oh, and you do.

You moan, you plead, you whine and whimper all about just how bad you want it, how bad you need it.

You squirm and cry out for her, spread your legs, so utterly eager to accept more of her inside. But Donna, teasing as she is, merely continues jerking herself off for a painful while longer.

A little more, a little more.

More moans and grunts come from her that have your body heat up and tingle in anticipation.

You want it.

You need it.

And then,

you get it.

When she pushes herself inside, only to cum, it’s almost beautifully overwhelming. You moan and shriek, crying out for her, rolling your hips, eager to receive all of her. She fills you perfectly, paints your insides white and slick.

And then, just before you get your pleasure, you feel her pull out to the tip again.

“Beg again, little one”

[whereispearlescentmoon]

A ficlet based on the idea that the snails just hang around after the end of the session and also reflect their respective players true feelings. (yes I saw the one someone made earlier about Pearl’s snail with Gem but I had this written already and I’m not gonna not post it just because someone else posted the idea first.)

Pearl was, frankly, sick and tired of the snails. She kept checking the seams of their new base to ensure that nothing can get in. Her fingernails had bits of debris caught underneath them from each time she ran them over the corners, over the grout holding the cobblestone walls together, over everything. Grian said the snails won’t want to kill them anymore, but Pearl wasn’t taking any chances. Cleo and Scott seemed content to have theirs hanging around, and even Impulse wasn’t as wary, but while she thought they were cute at first, it’s a little less cute when they’ve killed you twice.

“Aw look at it! It loves Scott!” Cleo cooed happily. Pearl was actually trying very hard NOT to look at Cleo’s especially. Like Cleo, it was stitched together of green undead flesh. But unlike Cleo, Pearl had no affection for it and thus her disgust overpowered anything else. When she did take a glance at her teammates, Scott was happily patting ZombieSnail’s shell as it snuggled into him. Snailjor was similarly content to curl up against Cleo, who was petting it almost like a cat.

Impulse was reacting a bit more normally in Pearl’s opinion. ISnail was following him around as he changed into a more comfortable set of clothes to sleep in (cargo shorts are very practical, but not very soft), occasionally nudging at Impulse’s ankle. It made Pearl ache to be back on Hermitcraft, with Olive getting in her way as she tidied up. They had to stay the normal length of the session though, even if they had cut the killing short. It would be a few more days before anyone could go anywhere.

Then there was Pearl’s own snail. It was, frankly, nowhere to be seen. It seemed to want as little to do with her as she did with it. Oh well. Another soul bound (that is what Grian had called them, right? It seemed like he was making things up to torment Pearl specifically at this point) rejecting her. Whatever.

Maybe she had spoken too soon, she thought, as a light rustling came from outside the walls. It was followed by the sound of those stupid propellers the things had been using to fly around all session.

“I’m not in the mood, dude,” Pearl called out, as she, like Impulse, searched their chests for the sleep shorts she had brought. As her back was turned, she could hear the snail still approaching, and sighed as its cold and slimy body nudged against her leg. “Seriously, can you just-“

Her words caught in her throat as she looked down at the snail. Instead of the brown shell, navy blue jacket, and oddly long hair that she had been running from all session, there was a light orange shell and little set of overalls. Gem’s then. Pearl crouched beside it, eying it suspiciously. She still really didn’t get why Gem was so angry at her, but it couldn’t be a good sign that her murder snail was here.

“What’s up little Gem?” Pearl asked, putting her hand out. The snail, predictably, bit her, drawing blood with its oddly sharp teeth. Pearl drew back with a yelp, curling the hand into her jacket. “Dang it! Jeez Louise Gem, if you wanted to kill me outside of session time, wait till we’re back home at least,”

And home had been odd, frankly. It seemed like Gem might have been avoiding her on Hermitcraft. The Life Series wasn’t normally like that. It got kind of fuzzy when you weren’t in the server proper. Only a couple of weeks after Pearl had slaughtered them both in Double Life, she had been planning with Impulse and laughing with Cleo. She had done some clean up for Scar the same week she had put up a wall between her and the Clockers. Hell, even right after Secret Life her and Gem had hung out like nothing was the matter, chatting about the series casually. Something about being back here had dug up feelings Gem had clearly chosen not to address with her, and could Pearl really be blamed for that? No, she decided, and she wouldn’t take Gem’s snail letting out those feelings like this either.

“Whoa, what happened?” Scott had come rushing over at Pearl’s yelp. She sighed, gesturing with her now bleeding finger. Scott hissed through his teeth, “Woof, that’s nasty. What did you do to tick off Gem’s snail?”

Pearl growled, frustrating welling up. “The same thing I’ve done to Gem! Nothing! It came up to me to bite me! I literally didn’t do anything!”

Scott put his hands up, looking for all the world like he didn’t believe her.

“Alright, alright, let me look at that finger then, don’t want it to get infected. You’ve already lost more lives than you can afford.” His tone was joking, but Pearl couldn’t help but be a little hurt. She wasn’t trying to lose lives! Really! She didn’t want to win, but she didn’t want to go out first. It was just hard with the wild cards to find her normal footing.

Usually in these games her biggest strength was the ability to hide and outlast her opponents, but the twists had made that impossible. She was a good fighter, could hold her own when inevitably there was only a handful of people left and she had to fight, but she usually avoided getting involved until then. Now, she might be dead before those final bloodbath days, when the whole server was red and all was going to hell, even happened.

While Scott took the time to properly clean out the cut, the snail nudged at Pearl’s ankle again. She shook it off with a frustrated huff.

“See what I mean? It’s trying to come up to me! What am I supposed to do about that?” Scott finished wrapping her finger and looked down at the snail, which seemed frankly uninterested in him, beady green eyes fixated on Pearl alone.

“Maybe it’s like an abused cat,” he proposed, “It wants to show you affection but when you do it back, it starts hissing and biting. You’ve just got to let it come to you and pretend you don’t even notice it,”

“Or, we could leave it outside the base and hope it goes back to Gem?” She suggested, hopefully. Scott gave her an exasperated look.

“Didn’t it fly over the wall to get her in the first place?” Pearl pouted and huffed, crossing her arms.

She titled her head to get a good look at the snail. Her right eye had gone red tinted and it made it harder to see out of, forcing her to crane her neck at odd angles to see with the left. The Gem snail had come crawling back and was circling the log Pearl had sat down on. Every subsequent circle, it got closer and closer, until it was brushing Pearl’s leg. Finally, as Pearl sat still so as to not provoke another attack, it settled on the log beside her, leaning its weight against her thigh. Pearl ignored it pointedly, holding back a shudder at the weird feeling of its slug-like body.

It wasn’t until the next morning that the Gem snail finally left. Pearl had barely been able to sleep, halfway between comforted and afraid of the thing snoozing beside her. She didn’t want to provoke it. She hadn’t wanted to provoke Gem. Maybe she was doing all of this wrong. Or maybe Gem was. Either way, she just wanted to go home and have things be normal again.

Somewhere, in the forest, Pearlescentsnail found a tree and climbed up it to sleep. She looked around, making sure there was no one else there, sank into her shell, and stayed there until the session ended. She went out alone.

[iichfilwypj]

prettyspeak | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader ღ warnings: a minor injury! ღ wc: 698

“Wait –I want to try something!” The words from her boyfriend, who was running after her, caught her off guard, making her nearly stumble to the ground. 

It wasn’t that she had a problem with it –trying new things was great, in her opinion. 

Just... maybe not while they were on a mission. 

Alone. 

Unarmed. 

Being chased by a monster.

“Percy, shut up and keep running!” Without looking back, she darted to the right and kept running, inwardly blaming him for getting her into this situation.

She could be at her cabin, chatting with Silena, Clarisse –please, even Drew would be a better option than this. 

‘There won’t be any monsters, we’ll just go pick up–’ MY ASS, tell that to the five-foot beast chasing us.

She found a rock just big enough to shield her and hid behind it, praying the monster wasn’t on her heels. Percy was probably handling it, and soon they’d be able to get back to camp–

“Hi, baby” 

“Hi, my love- Perseus!” The boy’s body dropped beside her, sending her a smile as a powerful roar reverberated around them. “You said no monsters!” 

She looked at him, noticing how he clutched his side and shot her a look. Not just any look –the look he gave when he needed something. 

“What?” she asked, frightened; Percy wasn’t exactly known for his brilliant ideas.

“I need you to tell the monster to go after you! Use you prettyspeak or whatever.” 

“What?!”

He covered her mouth with his unbloodied hand, silencing her. She quickly pulled his hand away from her face with her own and placed her other hand on his wound, applying pressure, though she didn’t think it was anything serious.

“Hold on! No! The whole reason I’m here is to convince–”

“I know, I know. But right now, your job is to convince that creature,” he gestured toward the beast nearby, “to follow you.” 

He smiled and she was about to laugh, thinking it was a joke. Every fiber of her being told her to say no, to run off and leave him there. 

But she knew she could trust him, she could put her heart in his hands and it would be completely fine: so with a sigh, the foolishly-in-love part of her gave in.

"I love you too much." She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

She stood up in fear, face-to-face with the monster. She had no idea what it was; she’d never seen anything like it. But it was tall, huge, and its mouth was wide open, full of fangs. She would have closed her eyes to pray if she weren’t too scared to look away.

"Come here!" And then it started running toward her, roaring loudly. The sound was like a thousand wails.

She looked at Percy, hoping he would do something. She saw him with his eyes closed and one hand on the ground. 

Great, he was sacrificing me. What a way to get rid of your girlfriend, idiot. I hope he doesn’t find another cute girlfriend.

But when the monster lunged at her and she closed her eyes, she didn’t feel anything. She kept them shut until she felt something near her face; when she opened them, a wall of water separated her from what seemed to be the remnants of the monster.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around, screaming, raising her hand to strike whatever was there –which probably was another monster and would end up getting her killed.

To her surprise, she found herself facing her boyfriend, who was looking at her proudly.

"Wow."

Feeling confident out of nowhere, she brushed her hair back and smiled at him, still trembling a little. "I know, I can be pretty badass-"

"I didn’t know I could do that!" He lunged forward, hugging her tightly and kissing her hair. And as sweet as the gesture was, she was already thinking of a thousand ways to kill him.

She pulled away and looked at him seriously, making Percy look at her, clearly scared and aware that she was mad. "Take me back to camp." She said threateningly. "Now!"

"Okay, dictator.” He quickly grabbed his backpack and started walking toward where they had left Blackjack, his hand holding hers. "I hate it when you use the prettyspeak on me."

"I didn’t."

hii! i hate everything i've been writing :( i've had the worst week in my like i swear AND OMG IT'S NOT EVEN THURSDAY!

[earthfire-75]

Demons have needs too

Genre: Dragon Age Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook, Spite x Rook , Spite!Lucanis, female!Rook, Named Rook, otherwise, non descript

Warnings: smut, just smut PWP , knife play?, no blood, demon possession, dub-con

Notes: purple italics are Spite's thoughts/speaking

Wherein we wonder if Spite isn't actually a Desire demon...

Luna sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Heading into the kitchen, she found Lucanus’ coffee maker next to the stove. She smiled to herself, making herself a cup and a fried egg sandwich for breakfast, then she would head to the training room, where she would also likely find Lucanis. She leaned against the doorway as she watched him, jumping a little when he spoke without looking at her.

“You are improving, my friend. I almost did not hear you.”

Friend? Not friend. Want!

She hid the sadness she felt at his use of friend. She desires so much more than his friendship, had since the last time they had seen each other. But she had only been a teenager then. Now, seeing him again, she knows what she feels isn't infatuation. There is a sexual tension that comes with their sparring, however, and she needs to be careful. She's certain Lucanis Dellamorte is neither ready for any sort of romance yet, nor interested in her that way to begin with.

“Almost only counts in playing horseshoes,” she teased.

“And hand grenades. Or so I ‘ve heard.”

Lucanis turned around, finally facing the girl…no, woman…entertaining the training room. He remembers the teenager he last met years ago. She was beautiful then, but now? Now she made his heart race and his cock twitch, for Makers sake. Now he both looked forward to and dreaded their sparring. The sexual tension it brought…he wanted to …do things to her...

Fuck her, the demon supplied in a whisper. Make her ours! Spite breathed in deep. Smells like…lavender dipped in honey.

Lucanis, for his part, does his best to ignore the demon, giving Luna a smile that's meant to be reassuring as he withdraws his daggers from their sheaths. “Ready for our sparring session, my Moon?” It's a slip, one he deliberately does not acknowledge, in hopes that she missed it. But of course she does not. Still, Luna says nothing, refusing to believe he meant it in the way her heart wishes he did.

* *

He had her pinned against the wall, hands above her head, his dagger pressed firmly against the hollow of her throat. His eyes were ablaze with something she dare not name and something more sinister as he started her down.

Fuck her! The demon was worked up now, more difficult to ignore.

Pretty. Pretty tits, pretty pussy.

Never kissed, never touched

Wants, needs, aches. Aches for us!

The demon tightens their grip on Luna’s wrists. Their eyes drop to her breasts, sliding the blade from her throat down to the first button of her shirt.

We want, we need.

Throb, pulse, ache. Ache for her!

“Lucanis?”

A deep growl - Take, claim, taste, fuck!

Ours! All ours! Fuck her or we will!

At the first sign of hesitation, Spite growls in frustration, shoving Lucanis' consciousness to the side, but not down. The demon wanted its host to remember this.

“We want to see those pretty tits.” The voice that came out of Lucanis was not entirely his own and Luna swallowed around something stuck in her throat as the hand holding his dagger flicked, sending the first button flying. The second and third aren't far behind as Luna's breasts rise and fall heavily.

“Pretty Moon. We won’t hurt you. Well, maybe a little, but we think you'll like.,” the demon spoke as it continued to flick away at the remaining buttons. “But we won't deny ourselves anymore. We want you wrapped around our cock. Not our fist.”

The blade slides back up, between her breasts, cuts through the lacings of her bra, then uses it to move the shirt away from her breasts, exposing them completely. They circle her left breast with the dagger, spiraling closer and closer to Luna's tightening nipple.

“Such lovely, perfect tits.” Spite takes her nipple between its teeth, rolling it until pleasure borders pain.

“We want to tell you, but Lucanis is a coward. Big scary assassin can't tell the pretty how much we want to feel her tits, suck her nipples and ram our cock into her dripping cunt over and over until she's screaming our name, drunk on the absolute fucking we’ll l give her.”

The demon takes the blade to her right breast, offering up the same treatment as its twin. “But no, he leaves that for me to do. So We'll tell you every dirty thing we want to do to you.”

Luna hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop herself from squirming, squeezing her thighs together, arching her breasts forward and moaning as her nipples hardened and her pussy pulsed with desire. The demon breathed in deep, taking in her scent and picking up on her sweet arousal. It dropped their eyes to her still covered bottom half. With the dagger still in hand, the demon cut the ties holding Luna's pants up and watched them fall to her ankles before swiftly and carefully cutting off her panties at the hips.

It slides the blade up her thigh from knee to apex, watching goosebumps form all over her skin, making her nipples tighten even more and a gush of desire floods her. The demon gathers some on the blade carefully, as if gathering something precious. “ We want to taste you,” it whispers before licking her gathered juices from the blade, slow and sensual.

“To fuck you with our tongue and fingers. To fill your dripping, aching cunt in every way you’ll let him…Let us.”

The demon drops the dagger, lifting Lucanis' hand to cup her breast, lowering his head and swirling his tongue around her npple, nipping at the sensitive bud just to hear her cry out, to make another gush of arousal slide down the insides of her thighs.

“We've wanted you like this the longest. Every time we've sparred together, we’ve imagined fucking you into the wall after. Your tits bouncing in our face, your aching cunt squeezing tight around our equally aching cock.” It finally pressed their cock into her thigh as he kicked her legs apart, making her fuck their leg as she feels just how hard they are.

“We’ve imagined bending you over the kitchen table, our hand twisted in your hair, fucking you senseless from behind, not caring who might walk in and see it. Imagined tying you to your bed, legs spread as far apart as possible, arms above your head as you are now, helpless, dripping, begging as blade and tongue trace the shape of your perfect body, especially your tits. Maker, we really love your tits…then we bury our fingers deep into your cunt until you scream out your first and second orgasms. And then, of you’re a really good girl, we fuck your cunt with our cock.” It pressed said cock harder into her thigh to punctuate the point.

It shifted their hips just enough to be right next to her apex and began dry humping. The hand cupping her breast now pinching and pulling at her nipple. It swirled their tongue around the opposite nipple before closing their lips around the hard bud and sucking. The action made Luna moan and her hips jerk. “Please,” she begged, “Lucanis, please…”

“Shhhh, little Moon. Lucanis is…present enough. Point of no return, Pretty. Let us take care of you, let us fuck you, little Moon. Let us…” Frustratingly, the demon found it's host had more influence on them than they thought. They couldn't just fuck her like they wanted. Not without permission.

“Yes!” She couldn't take anymore teasing. Tears stung her eyes thinking her weakness now damned them both, but her hips begged the demon to take her, to fuck her in the ways it described. In a moment she felt the heaviness of his cock before it was teasing at her entrance and sliding all too easily into her, stretching her, filling her.

It did not ease the aching, but heightened it, her cries of pleasure/pain growing louder with each thrust. The demon growls, releasing her wrists to grip her hips in both hands, practically bouncing her on their cock, manipulating how she squeezes around it. She has to grip their shoulders to hold herself up.

“Please…” Luna angles herself to lean back a bit. “I need…” She feels them reach between her legs, thumb finding her clit and rubbing hard, rough circles into it and her pitch becomes higher as she now fucks herself on their cock.

They watch, in awe of her even as they chase their own orgasm. Indeed her breasts bounce, her face twisted in pleasure, sacred and profane all at once. A final thrust of their hips and she screamed out their name as predicted. But their own release comes with a whimper as they bury their head into the crook of her neck.

“You could bring us to our knees, little Moon. You could bring a demon to its knees…”

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

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

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For A Demon, Night 4: The Girl & The Glass Slipper (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

Lucanis,

I’ve nearly finished the preparations for Caterina’s funeral. Meet me at the Diamond when you can, I could use your help with a few things.

-Teia  

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting on his cot, with the letter in his hands. A part of him thinks if he burns it, it won’t be real. Like Caterina’s death could be carried away with embers on the wind. The paper crumples at the edges under the pressure of his grip, and the throbbing in his head won’t stop.

A year in the Ossuary. A year of torture. Of starvation. Of shutting down to his most base instincts. Of Spite.

Then, a light in the darkness. A tiny prickle of hope settled in his chest that Caterina would be waiting for him at the Dellamorte Estate if Rook could break him out. He started to wonder what she would look like after a year. A few more wrinkles on her brow from constantly scowling at everyone (except Teia)? Was her light grey hair wispier and thinner? Would she lose some of her height to age but still stand taller than anyone else in the room?  

There was no time, then, to dwell on those thoughts. They had much to do before he could escape. What had Rook said back then? A prison break, a blood heist, and an assassination just to get her mage killer?

They quickly fought their way through the prison, destroyed his phylactery, and killed Calivan.

And so, a Tevinter mage, a dwarf, and a possessed assassin had walked out of an underwater prison and into a casino. It was like the start to a bad joke.

Unfortunately, he would never get the answers to those questions. Would never see how much or how little she’d changed during his imprisonment. Lucanis learned his grandmother was dead at the hands of the Venatori soon after arriving at the Cantori Diamond with Rook and the others. He missed seeing Caterina again by hours, maybe minutes. Throwing himself into this job with Rook was the only thing that would keep his thoughts on anything but the lingering guilt, and anger, and frustration. It keeps him preoccupied enough that he doesn’t to deal with the fallout of his own emotions.

Lucanis Dellamorte doesn’t need time, he needs a target.

But there’s no target between now and the funeral. There is only time. And he doesn’t know how to fill that time without Madeleina and her stories.

He doesn’t know when she will return from the Grand Necropolis. If she’ll even return in time for the funeral.

Lucanis leans forward on his forearms and faces an uncomfortable truth.

He doesn’t want to return to Treviso without her.

Not for Caterina’s funeral, at least. He knows himself well enough to realize that going alone would be a recipe for disaster. There won’t be a target to bury his sword in. Nowhere for him to escape his thoughts. Nothing to redirect all that pain and anger somewhere else.

Unless she’s beside him, creating wonders with her mind and magic. Sharing a cup of cioccolata, devouring his desserts. Just being there, with no expectation of anything other than good company and trading stories.

I want. To Talk. To Rook. Spite echoes. He’s practically clawing at the back of Lucanis’ eyes. Want. Rook.

The demon’s howling in his head grows louder. It takes every ounce of hard-won self-discipline, hewn from a childhood of starvation and torture, to put up a wall between the echoes of Spite and the rest of him.

“Enough, Spite” He growls, tossing the letter aside and gripping the sides of his head. He shuts his eyes tight, as if that will keep Lucanis in and Spite out.

Find. Rook. NOW.

He squeezes harder until tresses of raven hair are bunched between his fingers.

Find. Rook. Find. Rook. Find. ROOK.

WHERE. IS. ROOK.

“Mierda! Spite! STOP!”

A flash of pain, a gush of blood from his nose. He grunts and wipes the blood dripping down his nose with the back of his hand. Lucanis is used to Spite’s retaliations but that doesn’t make them any less pleasant to deal with.

His tantrum mirrors the one from their first night at the Lighthouse.

The first night that Madeleina insisted they could find a way to help him. Outright rejected, and even seemed a little angry, at the mere mention of killing him to cure his possession.

He now understood why she staunchly defended him and Spite against those in the group that were wearier of them. Lucanis would have never guessed, not in a million years, that the bubbly and joke-slinging Rook was almost possessed by a demon herself once. And not just any demon, despair. It was one of the strongest variants of demons because it feeds from one of the strongest emotions; the antithesis of hope, that small light in the distance that makes one willing to endure any torture, any hardship, for the promise of something better. Despair was a void, an abyss. So easy to sink into and never return.

She almost sank into that void.

Spite was an unpleasant demon to deal with, downright bratty and vindictive most of the time– but he couldn’t imagine pure despair.

It ate up her life until nothing was left.

As his thoughts turn to Madeleina’s story, Spite, miraculously seems to settle.

Only for a moment, because just now, he hears a soft knock at the door. Normally he would have heard the person before their footfalls even reached his doorstep – would have clocked exactly who it was, too, by the sounds of their footsteps.

Short, brisk steps for Harding. Light skips for Bellara. A soft clink and a confident step for Neve. And sure, even steps for Davrin.

Soft, unhurried, leisurely steps for Rook.

“Hey Lucanis, can I come in?” Comes Madeleina’s soft voice from the other side of the door.

Rook. He can feel Spite’s cheshire grin at the edges of his consciousness.

Although they are of one mind, he doesn’t know what the demon’s infatuation with Rook is. What it means for her. What it could mean for both of them. And that scares him. This tenuous reliance he’s building with her - Spite is an unknown variable in that equation. Until he’s solved it, he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep her safe. Even if that means denying what he may feel for her. That thing he still doesn’t have a name for.

“Come in” He answers, quickly wiping clean the last of the blood before it dries down and he has something to explain to Rook.

The door opens, and in she steps. She’s looking much better than a few days ago when he found her in the music room eating Solas’ ancient cheese.

Why was Solas storing cheese in the music room when he had a pantry?

He refocuses. She’s wearing her casual Shadow Dragon armor – a lilac purple ensemble with a red sash around the middle that does her ample curves every favour.

He stops that train of thought with a hello and a forced smile.

Smells like death stink and mothballs. Not. Right.

“Back from the Necropolis already?” He asks, desperate to ignore Spite, “Did you find Bellara’s Fade expert?”

Rook smiles and rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. She’s beaming so hard he worries she might fly through the roof.

“We did!” She gushes, “Professor Emmrich Volkarin. He’s quite the character- you can really tell he’s got a passion for what he does. I’ve never heard someone explain sub-astral manifestation so eloquently! And!”

She excitedly holds a finger up, “He has a skeleton assistant!”

Lucanis takes a pause.

“The Necromancer … brought a skeleton with him…”

Madeleina frowns. “Not just any skeleton. This one moves. Of his own accord! And he speaks – well hisses, but sometimes I think I can tell what he’s saying. His name is Manfred and he’s absolutely delightful. I was just having tea with the Professor and Manfred brought me a nice cup of jasmine – that he made himself!”

When he doesn’t share her excitement, she lifts a brow.

“What? You’re not a fan of necromancy?”

Lucanis sighs and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m a large believer that dead things should stay dead. It’s every assassin’s worst nightmare to plan a kill down to the minute, and the target starts walking again”

Madeleina considers his response and shrugs, “I guess that makes sense. I still think it’s incredible though.” Brows drawn together in thought, she puts a thumb under her chin and looks down “I’ll have to pick his brain later about the metaphysical implications of necromancy and how Fade resonance may impact reanimation…”

“Madeleina?”

She snaps her attention to him once more, “Oh… sorry”

Lucanis shakes his head and gives her a light smile. He doesn’t want to linger on how cute she looks when she’s deep in thought. The way her brows scrunch together. Dark, wispy lashes falling over light green eyes. The corners of her soft, full lips pulling down. Ringlets of brown curls falling over her face. No, he won’t linger on that.

“I … wanted to ask you something. If you have a minute”

Madeleina straightens and smiles. “Of course. What’s going on?”

“Teia wants to meet”

She grins, “That hardly sounds like a bad thing.”

Madeleina and Teia, although having met only briefly, had already become fast friends. There’s something in their easygoing nature that attracts everyone to them. They spin people around their light, catching them in their orbits, like planets circling the sun.

“She wants to plan Caterina’s funeral”

Madeleina’s face falls almost instantly, and she looks like she’s about to kick herself for her comment earlier. “Oh …. Right ….”

He hesitates, and silence falls between them. Madeleina still isn’t looking at him.

He sighs, and builds up the courage to ask her what he was going to seek her out for.

“If you don’t mind, I … could use some back up.” He points to his head, “In case Spite gets out of hand”

Her green eyes meet his own. Sometimes he feels like she’s drowning him with her gaze, pulling him in until there is nothing but her.

“Let’s not keep Teia waiting then”

~*~

They meet Teia and Illario on the top floor of the Cantori Diamond.

“Good! You’re here” Teia smiles warmly.

“Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia” He gives a respectful bow of his head. Lucanis knows what Caterina meant to Teia. The old bird always had a soft spot for her. Then again, he’s certain almost everyone did. Even one prickly, and all-too-peculiar Fifth Talon.

She waves him off, “For Caterina? How could I do otherwise?”

Her pretty features fall into an expression of mixed pity and sorrow.

“I’m so sorry Lucanis…” She starts, turning towards him, “This must be such a blow”

Teia then turns to Rook, and flashes her a dazzling smile.

“Rook, thank you for coming with him. I need one Dellamorte to help plan this” She jerks her head to his cousin, standing behind her like a shadow, “This one has been no help at all”

Illario frowns, not even contesting the point. “I’m sorry Teia. This is just … too much right now”

Illario always caves under pressure. Lucanis reigns in the sigh that desperately wants to escape his lips.

Madeleina gives Teia an earnest smile, and puts a hand on her chest, “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word”

Teia’s smile grows even wider at that. “You’re such a dear. I hope these two are paying attention”, she grins at both Lucanis and Illario.

He’s not sure why he says what he says next, but the second the words fly out he wants to pull them back with his hand and shove them into his mouth.

“Teia, don’t flirt with my … colleague”

Teia gives him a knowing smirk, “Jealous?”

He’s going to protest, but she continues before he has a chance. “Fine, to business then. There’s a lot to plan, but first, I need the ashes”

She casts an expectant glance at Illario, who looks caught off guard. Unusual.

“… Ashes…?” He repeats slowly.

Teia puts a hand on her hip and frowns, annoyed. “Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?”

“Oh, yes, of course” Illario gestures and smiles, but there’s something insincere about it – even for him. “I’ll get them to you rightaway”

He can’t stop himself from asking, “Illario … what happened?”

Madeleina tenses next to him. Illario just looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

Mierda. What else could I mean, he thinks, wondering if his cousin is playing dumb on purpose just to piss him off. “Caterina” he answers, barely hiding the aggravation in his voice, “How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the Estate? In the City”

He wants to stop, but he can’t. His mouth is forming words faster than his brain can think them.

“How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know”

Illario frowns and there’s something almost patronizing in his voice when he speaks next. It frays every nerve in Lucanis’ body. “Cousin. Stop. You can’t dwell on this- it will drive you mad”

“I’m not dwelling” He frowns. Lucanis can hardly believe he even needs to ask for these details. Illario should be offering them up unprompted. “Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how if I’m going to stop her”

“I told you, I’m handling it” The hard, almost defiant edge in Illario’s voice strikes another nerve. Some deep, raw, primal anger he’s trying hard to pull back from, lest he give Spite more fodder.

There is something off about his cousin, and he can’t quite pinpoint what. Was he really acting unusual, or had he truly changed so drastically in the time he’s been away, that Illario may as well be stranger?

Teia interrupts his thoughts with an exasperated sigh, “Boys, enough of this. We have other things to discuss”

“My apologies, Andarateia. Continue without me. I’ll … get you the ashes” Illario says quickly, seemingly desperate for a reason to excuse himself. He all but takes off down the hallway.

Madeleina clears her throat. Lucanis might have forgotten she was standing next to during that odd exchange with Illario, but there’s a certain steadiness she provides him that makes it impossible to do so.

“How are you holding up, Lucanis?” She asks quietly. He can tell there’s more she wants to say but is keeping it to herself- perhaps to divulge later, or, to simply bury away in her own mind.

“I’ll be fine” He nods, “Better once we kill Zara Renata”

Lucanis jerks his head to the spot where Illario stood just moments before, “It’s him I’m worried about”

Teia folds her arms over her chest, and concedes, “Illario can be a handful sometimes”. She shakes her head and turns in the direction he sprinted off in, “But this … the only time I’ve seen him like this is when we thought Lucanis died”

Her expression morphs into something softer, more teasing. Teia grins, slyly, “You’re worrying, aren’t you. What will people say when they learn the ‘Demon of Vyrantium’ has a big, soft heart”

Madeleina looks like she’s holding back a giggle.

You’re more heart than you give yourself credit for.

Now was not the time for this. Lucanis decides to ignore her comment for his own sanity.

“He’s been careless at times, but never when his own life was on the line. Zara took down the First Talon. Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it?”

“You’re right, it’s not like Illario to ignore the knife coming at him …”

Lucanis decides to shift the subject. “What do you need from me for the funeral?”

Teia looks happy for the distraction. She smiles, and motions for the two of them to follow her, “Come” The Seventh Talon says, as she makes for the grand, winding staircase, “I’ll get us some drinks, and we can talk about the arrangements”

~*~

The funeral passes by in a blur.

Madeleina, excited to show off some new spells she’s learned in her short time with the Necromancer, helped set up the decorations for the funeral. She summoned wisps to close all the curtains in the casino – an Antivan tradition thought to keep wayward souls from wandering. The wisps also carted flowers – boughs of deep crimsons, blacks, and purples, to and fro, setting them down gently wherever she commanded.

There are words and prayers from a revered mother of Treviso’s Chantry, from Teia, and a few from him. But none from Illario. He doesn’t know what to make of that but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. Lucanis is dead for a year, shows up, and now Caterina is gone. He supposed to it would be a lot for anyone to take in.

He and Madeleina have found a quiet hallway after the funeral. Most of the attendants have already filtered out of the casino, a sea of black flooding Treviso’s narrow streets.

Madeleina sits beside him, in that familiar, companionable silence they’ve come to enjoy with each other. She plays with a wisp she’s summoned, smiling as the faint green-blue creature of the Fade makes playful circles around her hand.

“Thank you … for being here today” He says quietly.

Madeleina turns to him and smiles, “No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for”

Friends?

This is the first time she’s ever called them… something. He supposed friend was an apt description. He ignores the how the word makes his heart tug lower into his stomach.

“Goodbye little friend, thank you for your assistance” She whispers to the Wisp, and snaps it out of existence. He feels – well, something, at being referred to in the same manner as this little ball of light from the Fade. He’s not sure it’s a good something.

He doesn’t know how to ask her this. If there’s even a normal way to ask what he wants her to do for him. Oh well.

“Madeleina … will you … will you show her to me?” He hopes he doesn’t have to elaborate.

He wants to see what Caterina looks like through Madeleina’s eyes. How much she had changed, how much she stayed the same since his time in the Ossuary.

His faith in her is not misplaced. Madeleina’s expression softens with understanding.

Smells like roses and incense, Spite remarks quietly.  

Madeleina wordlessly conjures an image, with an elegant flourish of her hand, of Caterina. There is much of her that is the same. That familiar stony expression, that fierce, indominatable look in her narrow eyes. But she has changed, too. There’s a faint glimmer of sorrow he can pick out, even in her illusion. Her frown lines are more prominent. Her hair is a bit shorter, thinner than he remembers. She has more age spots. But her cane, her long leather overcoat- those are still as he recalls them.

He can tell from the look on her face that she’s concentrating hard, likely trying to remember every last detail of Caterina.

For him.

Lucanis releases a soft, pained breath. Almost shuddering. Tears prick at the edges of his eyes, and he bites his tongue to keep them from escaping. He can’t look at her anymore.

When he turns away for a moment, Madeleina waves her hand, and the illusion of Caterina vanishes on the wind.

“Lucanis…?”

Her hand is hovering next to his arm. Not touching, but close enough to feel its warmth, the comfort it provides. “Are you alright?”

Lucanis gives her a sidelong glance and forces his mouth to stretch into a tight smile. “Yes – yes, I’m alright. Thank you”

She’s gotten quite good at picking out his lies. Impressive for someone who’s not a trained assassin. Or perhaps he’s merely let too much of himself be free and unrestrained in front of her, that she’s gleaned all of his tells.

Madeleina is quiet for a moment.

“How about a story?” she pulls her hand away from by his shoulder and rests it on her lap. “One with a happy ending today, maybe”

He chuckles bitterly. A small part of him was hoping she would offer that. He’s asked too much of her already to say it himself.

Alone in a dimly lit hallway, sitting on a bench underneath an alcove. He supposes it’s as good a spot as any. This is as quiet as he’s ever heard the casino. Teia must have closed up shop early after the funeral, because there is no raucous laughter from the gambling halls.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Madeleina turns her body slightly, so she’s facing him. “I think I know just the one”

Lucanis lets himself relax for the first time all day. He lets the tension fall from his jaw, his shoulders, his legs, and simply watches and listens.

“This one comes from Starkhaven” she starts, leaning closer for a conspiratorial whisper “Some say it’s actually the story of King Artesian Vael and Queen Wilhemina Vael from all way back in the Exalted age” Madeleina leans back and shrugs, “More than likely she got tied up in it because he was the first King to marry outside of royalty. It’s called ‘The Girl and the Glass Slipper’”

Lucanis can’t tell whether he enjoys her little history lessons for what they are, or he just likes the sound of her voice. He watches intently as her hands glow blue, and with another flourish, conjures her first image.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a happy family”

Three figures spring to life, rotating in the space between them. A tall, lanky man, with a kind countenance. A younger woman – beautiful with long, curly hair, and soft features. A little girl, with her mother’s hair, and her father’s gentle eyes.

“Her father was a travelling merchant, and so his work took him away for long stretches of time. But he always brought his girl back something special, just for her”

Madeleina smiles and the family disappears.

A figurine of a delicate porcelain ballet dancer spins in place. Then, it morphs into a hardcover tome – he can’t make out the title, but it looks far too large and complicated for a child’s bedtime storybook. The book becomes a gilded hair brush, before fading into nothing.

The family appears once again, but the mother is on her knees, with the other two standing behind her. The figure coughs several times and doubles over again.

“But her mother was not well. With time, she kept getting sicker and sicker” Madeleina continues, “As she was dying, she said to her daughter ‘Be good, be pious, be courageous – and above of all, be kind. Do this, and the Maker will take care of you where I cannot’”

The woman holds her daughter’s hand in hers, before she scatters into ashes on some invisible wind.

“And the girl was kind” Madeleina continued wistfully. She raised her hand, and the girl changed into a beautiful young woman. “Kind to others, kind to the animals in her care and those that weren’t” She is visited by all manner of wildlife – squirrels, birds, mice, chickens – even deer. The woman hands out food to each of them – big or small.

“In time” Madeleina waves the girl and the animals out of existence, replacing them with the figure of the father and three others. “Her father decides to remarry.”

The other woman has sharp, elegant features. Her thin lips are set in a permanent sneer. Her two daughters appear to share this feature.

“The Vicomtessa and her daughters quickly make themselves at home. At first… they’re cold, but polite”

The woman is seen trying to befriend the two stepdaughters, but they turn their noses up at her and walk away down some invisible corridor.

“One day, her father has to go away on another business trip. He asks the girls what they would like as presents. ‘Fine clothes!’ answers the first sister. ‘Fine jewels!’ exclaims the other.” The two sisters are practically falling over themselves at their imaginary jewels and clothes.

The scene shifts to the young woman and her father next.

“But his daughter thinks for a moment, before answering. ‘Bring me the first twig, father, that your traveller’s cap strikes on your way home. That is what I should like you to bring me.’”

She and her father embrace briefly, before he disappears into the air.

“But he would never return home. He’d fallen ill on the road back from Orlais. One of the servants who travelled with him brought the girl a hazel twig in a small box. ‘What of my jewels!’ cried the first sister, ‘What of my clothes!’ cried the second.”

Then, the stepmother appears behind them and slaps each on the shoulder. It looks so realistic he swears he can hear the sound of her gloved hand striking skin.

“’Quiet you fools – don’t you see we’re ruined’ The stepmother said. And she began consolidating the father’s remaining assets as her own. She releases all of the staff, that she may take the money meant for their upkeep to enrich herself”

The figure of the woman watches as a few faceless servants leave with rucksacks and little wagons of their belongings. The stepmother appears behind her.

“’But madam – ‘The girl starts, ‘How shall we maintain the estate without our people?’”

Lucanis already doesn’t like where this is going.

The stepmother’s figure boasts a wicked smile, sharp enough to cut glass.

“The girl was forced to take on the role of all the servants who left. They took her bedroom so the sisters may keep their dresses, always in the latest fashion from Orlais, stored away there.”

The young woman is now dressed in a tattered, old kirtle. Her long hair is pulled back into a bun, as she sweeps. Then washes the invisible floor. Then hangs the laundry. Then dutifully feeds the animals. But she never frowns. She always smiles and signs while she works.

“The stepmother and stepsisters treat her terribly. But the girl is always kind, as her mother told her to be”

Want to stab. Spite thinks gleefully. Stab. The sisters.

The sisters point and laugh as she does the chores. The stepmother watches with cruel indifference.

“Every night she lies down by hearth, for she has no bed, and wakes with the marks of cinder ash on her face” Madeleina has the figure of the girl curled up by a ghostly fire. “And so, they call her Cinderella – a cruel joke”

“One day, a proclamation from the palace comes. ‘All maidens of marriageable age are invited to attend a ball, in honour of his Royal Highness, Prince Theodore, that he may find a wife. The stepmother and stepsisters waste no time spending what little coin they have left of their dwindling fortunes on the most expensive dresses they could get their hands on”

The stepmother and stepsisters twirl about in puffy, fancy – gaudy, ballgowns, while the girl watches in her rags.

“’But I am also of age’ Cinderella proclaims. The stepsisters laugh,” The figure of the stepmother cuts them off with a hand, and the girls are silent. “’You may go to the ball if you finish your chores. Sweep the kitchen, the parlor, the bedrooms. Then wash the floors. Afterwards, wash, dry, and fold all of the laundry. Mend all the clothes. Feed the animals. Collect the eggs and milk. Clean the stables.’ On and on the stepmother went with an impossibly long list of chores. And it was meant to be impossible, for she would not allow Cinderella to go to the ball”

Madeleina frowns and waves the figures out of existence. She blinks and rubs her eyes.

“Madeleina – what’s wrong?” Lucanis asks quickly, daring to lean closer.

She pinches her cheek, leaving a red welt in place. “Mmm … yeah. I guess I used a lot of magic to help with Caterina’s funeral” Her eyes blink in and out of focus. She slaps her own cheeks a few times to perk up. “It’s easier to keep the illusions up in the Lighthouse since it’s in the Fade. I don’t need to expend as much mana”

“If you’re tired – “

She cuts him off with a dismissive wave. “No, no… I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I just need a moment. The story’s almost done anyway”

Madeleina sucks in a deep breath and exhales. With a clap of her hands, she’s launching back into her story.

“Where was I? Right”

She waves the figure of Cinderella back into existence, who is sweeping an invisible floor.

“Cinderella, although she tries her best, doesn’t finish all of her chores in time for the ball.”

A carriage, led by two decorated chargers, appears next. The stepmother and stepsisters push Cinderella aside as they climb into the carriage. He watches as it speeds away and vanishes into thin air.

The dejected form of Cinderella drops her broom and starts crying silent tears.

“She can’t help but cry. All she has ever been is kind to her stepmother and stepsisters. Why do they treat her so? What did she ever do to them?”

As the girl cries, he sees the hazel twig from earlier in the story reappear in front of her. The twig transforms into a ghostly figure of the girl’s mother. Cinderella looks up.

“But from far away in the Fade, her mother’s spirit hears her cry for help. ‘My child, you have done as I asked. You have been so courageous and so kind. The Maker bade me return to your side. Fear not Cinderella, for you will go to the ball tonight”

The figure of the mother waves her hands in the air and summons a gilded carriage, with two ghostly chargers – eyes glowing white like burning diamonds, to helm it. Her kirtle transforms into a beautiful gown, with rose appliques decorating the skirts. The figure of Cinderella peaks her foot from underneath the ballgown. Her feet are clad in wooden clogs, the inelegant footwear contrasting her incredible gown.

“’But mother, what of my shoes?’ She asks, and the spirit of her mother smiles. ‘I shall give you the finest shoes this Kingdom has ever seen or will ever see!’” And with a wave of her ghostly hand, the clogs transform into iridescent glass slippers. Lucanis leans in closer to inspect them. Madeleina has even managed to create the illusion of prisms of light reflecting off of them.

Will her wonders ever cease?

The mother shoos her daughter into the carriage quickly, “’Go on now! Time runs late – my magic will only hold until the bell tolls midnight! Fly Cinderella and find your happiness!’”

“’Thank you, mother!’ she cries”

He can’t help but smile as Cinderella is spirited away to the ball.

Madeleina conjures the image of a grand ballroom next. A string quartet in one corner. Nobility and commoners alike spinning about the dancefloor.

When the figure of Cinderella appears, the crowd parts immediately. If the figures could speak, he would be hearing shocked gasps and whispers.

“Cinderella arrives at the ball, and the Prince immediately takes notice”

A handsome young man dressed in an elegant doublet makes his way towards the figure of Cinderella, bows low at the waist, and holds out his arm for her. She takes his arm, and they begin spinning about the dance floor in a slow waltz.

“And when they dance together, it’s like there’s no one else in the world” Madeleina snaps her figure, and the rest of the crowd disappears. “The two quickly fall in love. And just as about the Prince is about to ask her name, the first toll of midnight arrives”

The figure of Cinderella parts from the Prince quickly and begins to run away. He chases after her, only stopping to pick up a glass slipper she left behind. “Cinderella runs to the carriage, and has it take her home. Although she only danced with the Prince for a short while, that little memory was beautiful enough to keep her warm for the rest of her life”

The figure of Cinderella is back at the manor, scrubbing the air below her clean, with a smile on her face.

“The stepmother and stepsisters return home, incensed that the Prince’s eye was caught by someone else. They don’t suspect for a moment the mystery princess was Cinderella. For she had nothing in her possession that beautiful – they had made sure of that”

The scene is now of the prince, staring at the glass slipper.

“Try as he might, Prince Theodore couldn’t forget about the mystery woman he danced with. He had to know who she was. He decided he would have every woman in the kingdom try on the glass slipper. He takes his Guard Captain, Ser Arryn, and rides out to find his true love”

The figure of the prince tries time and again, with girls of all shapes and sizes, to fit the slipper to one of them. All for nought.

“Eventually, he arrives at the home of the Vicomtessa, and her daughters eagerly try to make the glass slipper fit their feet. But the older sister’s feet are far too large, and she is too forceful. She breaks the slipper in half”

The older sister looks on in horror as the broken glass slipper lies in her hands. The Prince sinks to his knees, devastated that he’ll never find his true love now”

But the figure of Cinderella appears in the scene a moment later, smiling brightly.

“’Fear not your highness’ she says, ‘For I have its twin’” Madeleina waves her hand and has the figure of Cinderella pull out the other glass slipper. The Prince gently takes it in his hand, drops to one knee, and places it on her foot. A perfect fit.

The two share an embrace.

“Cinderella and the Prince are married. And they lived happily ever after”

Stab. The sisters? Spite asks.

When he doesn’t react to the ending of her story, Madeleina blinks and waves a hand in front of his face.

“Lucanis?”

He shakes his head and comes to. Lucanis grins sheepishly, “Spite wants to know if anyone stabs the stepsisters”

Madeleina makes a face and chuckles, “No Spite. There’s no stabbing in this story”

Not fair. Want to stab.

“What does happen to the stepmother and stepsisters?” He asks, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah, good question. There’s a few different variations but the most common one seems to be that they are relegated to working as servants when they lose their own fortune”

“I would’ve poisoned them” He adds, with a satisfied grin.

Madeleina laughs, “Well, when you tell the story, you can add that in”

They share a smile and settle back into silence for a few moments. He watches her blink in and out of consciousness. She’s rocking back and forth unsteadily. Lucanis reaches an arm behind her back – not quite touching her.

“Madeleina?”

“Mmm?” Her vision is bleary and unfocused. She’s facing him, but not looking at him.

“Mierda” He whispers. He knew he shouldn’t have let this go on.

She falls face forward against his right shoulder, unconscious. He would be concerned, if not for her gentle, steady breathing. Nothing dangerous, evidently. Just in dire need of some sleep.

A flush creeps on the back of his neck and his ears.

Her head is resting against his shoulder. The rest of her body is practically limp. Lucanis’ heart is pounding in his chest. So loud he can practically hear the frantic pace.

Quiet snores fill the air. He doesn’t know what to do. He keeps his hands laced together, almost afraid they’ll fly away from him if he doesn’t. To her hair, her cheeks, her lips.

To his surprise, relief, and horror, Andarateia Cantori comes sauntering down the hallway and spies the pair in that compromising position.

Mercifully, she doesn’t say anything but gives him a knowing look that he doesn’t like. He can’t find the strength to meet her warm, brown eyes.

Teia turns to Madeleina and gently nudges her awake.

“Come cariña, I’ll show you to your room for the night, hmm?” She whispers to the woman on his shoulder. Madeleina blinks a few times and rubs her eyes, parting from his shoulder. She’s so tired she doesn’t even realize what’s transpired or where she’s been sleeping. She takes Teia’s hand and lets the elf pull her to a standing position. She’s wobbly, but Teia steadies her with a hand on her back.

The two women start making their way down the hallway, leaving Lucanis alone with his thoughts.

That is, before he sees Viago trail after them.

The other Talon stops to give him a look.

“Shut up Viago” Lucanis mutters, pushing himself by his thighs to stand.

“I didn’t say anything” He replies cooly, but the slight quirk in his lips says more than enough.

“Mierda…”

[kurishiri]

02┊Dark If —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: implied dub-con, implied alcohol consumption, invasion of personal space.

(I-I-I...I...)

Alfons the Mirror: You’re rather quick to wake up, aren’t you. Well? Were you able to have a good dream last night?

(Why did I do such a thing... it was like Alfons was my lover...)

(Wait, like one...?)

Kate: Y-you did something to me, didn’t you?

Alfons the Mirror: Why indeed I did. We did a greaaat many things under consent.

A: That said, though, you ended up falling asleep, so we didn’t go all the way.

Kate: That’s not the point...!

Alfons the Mirror: Were you aware of my ability then? Because, yes, I did use it.

A: I am a mirror that reflects wishes and desires. I simply did what you wished for.

Kate: Wh—why would I ever wish for something so dirty...

Alfons the Mirror: Well I’ll be... is that really so?

Though I was intoxicated, I could still remember how I ended up wanting to lean into Alfons’ warmth.

Kate: Y-you’re the utter worst!

Alfons the Mirror: Aha, I do take a fancy to that reaction of yours. I prefer this loads over how you resembled a lost child last night.

Kate: Well, I won’t be seeking any more help from you.

Alfons the Mirror: Well then, how about I make a prediction? You will come to see me... I’m more than sure.

I straightened out my disheveled clothes and stood up as Alfons said while sprawled on the bed...

Alfons the Mirror: Ah, and...

(...?)

Alfons the Mirror: The first cocktail you drank last night is applejack. Despite all appearances, it’s quite some strong liquor.

A: A poisoned apple may not necessarily take the form of an apple itself. Do be careful from now on.

Perhaps out of frustration, or something else entirely, my cheeks grew hot.

Kate: Thanks for the warning! And you take care of that liver of yours too, mister Alfons the Mirror!

Alfons the Mirror: ......... (O_O)

A: ...pfft, ahahaha!

Leaving that shameless parting remark, I burst out of that shady room.

(That guy’s the worst of the worst, I swear to god——!!)

Pub master: Look at you, lady-killer. Did you have a fun time yet again? I’m almost envious.

Alfons the Mirror: Too much fun, in fact. Though she ran away like a cat would in the end.

??? (Harry): ...Hey, don’t go teasing her too much.

Alfons the Mirror: ...?

Sitting in the corner of the pub was a man, and that was all he said before disappearing into the darkness.

Pub master: So, are you gonna have a drink to wake yourself up, Alfons?

Alfons the Mirror: Yes, perhaps I will, with an applejack.

The day after I was played by the mirror, I went around on my own to find the missing thing.

But it seemed the favorite phrase of the people I asked boiled down to ‘maybe you’ll know if you ask Alfons?’

So in the end, I couldn’t get my hands on any information, leaving me to go back to that person, much to my displeasure.

Said person was at the castle, playing on a whim with a black cat.

Alfons the Mirror: Elbie was going to add this cat to his collection, you see... but it’s a relief indeed that you won’t be subject to a taxidermy, isn’t it?

Black cat: Meow...

Alfons the Mirror: And so, what brings you here?

Kate: .........ease.

Alfons the Mirror: I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up a little more, why don’t you.

Kate: ...Help me...please...

Alfons the Mirror: With what, might I ask?

(I-I swear, this man——!)

Kate: I need your insights, so please help me...!

Alfons the Mirror: Very well. I must say you looked quite darling just now.

While I threw him a resentful look, Alfons brought his fingers to his chin in a dramatic gesture.

Alfons the Mirror: For the record, everything I am about to say is mere speculation on my end.

A: But you are Snow White, Elbie is the Queen, Roger the Hunter, and I the Mirror.

A: Don’t you think there is a missing cast member here in the story of Snow White?

(Ah...)

Kate: The prince?

Alfons the Mirror: Indeed, if you find that prince who is somewhere in this world, you may be able to return from whence you came!

Kate: Thank you so much, Alfons! I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Alfons the Mirror: Hardly. Then, I say we head off to search for this prince and whatnot posthaste.

Kate: Wait, you’re going to help?

Alfons the Mirror: Did I not say? I happen to very much enjoy sticking my nose into other people’s business without the need to take an ounce of responsibility.

And so, with Alfons, we started our search for the prince.

Alfons the Mirror: To all the candidates to be Snow White’s prince, over here! Yes, that’s it, line up in a single file.

A: Now, entry number 1. You can come up.

Candidate No.1: I-I would like to take Snow White’s hand in marriage, so I can get close to Queen Elbert——

Queen Elbert: ...Dismissed.

Alfons the Mirror: Thank you for your time. Ah, and over there are some souvenirs, so do take some with you.

Kate: Thank you for helping out so much.

K: ...But, what in the world is this!?

Alfons the Mirror: Thinking it was the most efficient way, I invited candidates from within the country. I am quite good at my job, aren’t I.

Kate: I won’t deny that, but you could’ve confided in me before it happened...

K: Besides, why is Queen Elbert helping as well?

Queen Elbert: ...? Because, I was worried about you?

Alfons the Mirror: Alright then, entry number 2. You may come up.

Candidate No.2: I want to marry Snow White, and every night... hehehe...

Queen Elbert: ...Take him out of the castle grounds.

Alfons the Mirror: Yes yes, right away. Guards, if you please, throw him right out of the castle.

—— Time skip ——

(...That must’ve been close to 300 people, but we couldn’t find even one remotely like a prince.)

The fatigue piling up on me, I started to feel more down.

(At this rate, I won’t be able to find the missing thing, and I probably won’t be able to return back to reality.)

Alfons the Mirror: Kate? Kate.

Kate: Yes... ngh, mn...

Alfons kissed me with a wet sound before he finally parted from my lips.

Kate: W-why a kiss so suddenly?

Alfons the Mirror: I was starting to grow tired of all these worthless men, so call this a cleansing of palate, if you will.

A: Oh, or are you perhaps in need of a more intensely pleasurable ‘cleansing’?

Kate: Ah… no, we can’t…

I remembered the heat from when he fondled me before, and for a moment I recalled the pleasure from that.

(But that… all of that…)

Alfons the Mirror: You can put all the blame on me. I simply had unfulfilled desires, and so I laid my hands upon you.

Kate: In between an audience… that’s bad manners.

Alfons the Mirror: Oh dear, did you truly take me for someone who tries to uphold manners, by any chance?

A: And besides that, with that sort of phrasing, are you meaning to say doing things like this is alright if it’s in a different place?

Kate: Wh—ah…

Alfons the Mirror: We can leave the prince hunt for tomorrow and enjoy ourselves today. How about it?

(That it would make me happy if that smile of his was not apathetic, but rather one that came from his heart…)

(…It’s not like I’m thinking that or anything.)

And then, a few days later, in order to invite real princes, a banquet was held at the castle.

(Urgh, if it’s real princes, that would mean they’re nobility, right? Of course I’d be nervous…)

Alfons the Mirror: Are you finished with preparations? Well, I’ll be, don’t you look wonderful.

A: That is one shameless slit, to be sure. You’ll have the princes on their knees in no time flat, I say.

Kate: H-hold on, don’t touch me.

Alfons the Mirror: Goodness, what’s there to be so stingy about?

At this point, such interactions with Alfons like this had long become a part of my every day.

I had initially felt so anxious, but now such feelings have dissipated more…

Kate: …You know, recently I’ve had times when I’ve thought about what I’m really searching for.

Alfons the Mirror: And that is to say?

Kate: I had thought finding that missing thing and correcting what made this world twisted would be the right thing to do.

K: But it’s just… I can’t help but wonder if that’s really the case.

The people living in this country had gone twisted and mad somewhere along the way.

After all, Queen Elbert was still searching for the most beautiful thing in this world,

and Alfons… he would sometimes have this severely lonely or icy look in his eyes.

But… there wasn’t any person here that was living an entirely proper life.

And I couldn’t help but feel more or less everyone was living at least a little mad.

While thinking that, I felt the sensation of fingertips tickling my back.

Kate: Eek!

Alfons the Mirror: So you no longer wish to return to reality, instead wanting to stay with me?

Kate: No way!

Alfons the Mirror: Hehe, that’s unfortunate. Oh, and would you look at that. It’s almost time, Snow White.

In the dance hall, princes from many different countries were gathered.

Green-eyed prince: Snow White, this dish is delectable.

Kate: Ah, thank you. I’ll partake in some.

(If it was Alfons, I imagine he wouldn’t eat this sort of luxurious dish.)

——How rude. I’ll have you know purposefully eating crudely is what makes a noble.

Blue-eyed prince: Snow White, uhm, could we talk over there later?

Kate: Yes, of course.

(If it were Alfons, he would probably drag me off somewhere without asking first.)

——After all, you don’t dislike this kind of force, do you?

(…W-wait, what…?)

(For a while now, why was I…)

Why was I trying to find Alfons in other people?

Kate: ——!

(I… to Alfons——)

to be continued…

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[xxlady-lunaxx]

“are you ever lonely?” kanae asks. her expression is purely curious. as always, if shown any sign of discomfort, she would pull away. but she finds none in sanemi when he replies.

“no.” he returns her inquiry, tilting his head towards her. “why?”

“you isolate yourself. i was wondering if you ever felt…” she trails off, allowing the context speak for itself.

sanemi raises an eyebrow. “ah. being alone doesn’t make me ‘lonely,’ kocho,” he says pointedly. “it’s just the state of not being surrounded. isolation doesn’t have to be a bad thing. you just say it like it is.”

kanae nods slowly. “i’m glad.”

“what?”

“that you’re not lonely.”

sanemi scowls. “i’m not a child.”

she shakes her head. “you’re still a person. and aren’t you only barely an adult?” she smiles. sanemi’s sigh is exaggerated.

“you are so frustrating, sometimes,” he grumbles. nevertheless, he lets her previous statement float around for a moment. he seems to think about it, at least. “i’m fine. you don’t need to coddle me.”

“i don’t,” kanae agrees. her head dips down slightly, her hair swinging. “you just concern me. but i won’t let it bother you, it is my own problem. i just wanted you to know that i’m always allowed to be used as company, if you want it.”

she waits only a breath before she leaves sanemi alone. it’s all sanemi can do to not follow her. she’s quite intuitive, he realizes. damn kanae and her perceptiveness.

sanemi settles back down. his hands rest on his knees, palms up. his fingers close, curling until his fingernails threaten to dig into his skin. he lets out a breath, eyes closing. he wasn’t lonely, per se. more so solitary.

fucking isolated. he scoffs. craving company doesn’t make him lonely. it just makes him socially incompetent. it definitely doesn’t make kanae right.