#so was he watching them or was he always semi in control of those people’s minds to keep them docile

[myladybelle]

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter thirteen

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.7k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, descriptions of anxiety, swearing, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hi my loves i’m back!! thank you all for your patience while i was sick and preparing for the new semester, i appreciate all your kind messages so much x 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐖𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒’ 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎 

“Newcomer on the professional tennis scene, Y/N Y/L/N surprised virtually everyone when she won the Ladies’ Semi Final two days ago,” an English-accented sports journalist said on TV as you waited for your cue to step onto the court for the finals. “She’s not only the most technically excellent player of her age, but she has the fastest serve on the WTA tour.”

“She’s a remarkable player,” the other journalist agreed. You watched them play back a clip from your most recent match, highlighting one of your aces. “But if she wants to win on Centre Court here at Wimbledon for the very first time, she’s going to have to start embracing her volleys. Maybe she should take a leaf out of her boyfriend’s book.”

“Patrick Zweig? He only made it to the second round!”

“Yes, but he played some very entertaining tennis this week. It was a joy to watch and very well suited to a grass court!” 

“It’s true, Zweig plays a sneaky game of tennis. He keeps his opponent on his feet.” 

“In any case, the whole world is sure to be watching Y/N Y/L/N tonight, eager to see her take on Anna Mueller.”

“Now, this isn’t the first time Y/L/N and Mueller have played. They faced off numerous times in junior tournaments, and Y/L/N already beat her at Indian Wells, Milan, Roland-Garros, and the US Open last year. They have yet to play each other in a final, though, and Y/L/N has no grand slam titles to Mueller’s two.”

“Will it be experience and longevity that give Mueller the win, or will new talent Y/L/N take the match with precision and speed?”

“We will soon see.”

You had never been this nervous before a match until your second time at Wimbledon. 

For the first time in your professional career, just a year and a half after entering the tennis world, you made it to the final round of a grand slam tournament. The other tournaments you had won within the last year put your name on the map, allowing you to garner attention and recognition from your peers and spectators.

But a grand slam title meant you would be a part of history.

It was everything you wanted, everything you worked and struggled for. Your heart pounded so quickly that you thought it might leap out of your skin, and your quickening breath made spots appear in your vision. The pressure mounted, not just because your life goal was an arm’s length away, but from all the people who had their eyes on you. Some scrutinising, some rooting for you. 

Bracing your hands on your thighs, you closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. It felt like you were losing control. Everything you did to maintain your anxiety felt like it was slipping through your fingers, just like your dream of becoming a grand slam winner. 

Tashi’s voice rang in your ears. You’re going to be fucking miserable, and you’re going to hate your life just as much as your mother hates the fact that she had you. Art’s voice joined Tashi. Everyone knows that tennis is more of a mental game than a physical game. You have a lot of anxiety, and…

The sound of your phone getting a text message interrupted your tornado of negative thoughts. 

PAT 💞: Don’t listen to any of those assholes, they don’t matter. I love you so much and I’m proud of you no matter what happens today. Hold your head up high and do your best, nothing else matters. Don’t forget to breathe, pretty girl. P x

As you stepped onto the court, the cheers of the crowd were deafening. You could feel the vibrations of their applause through the soles of your shoes; the energy was electric, and the buzzing of quiet chatter set you on edge. Remembering Patrick’s advice, you breathed deeply and waved to the crowd, smiling as you headed for your bench. Everyone on your team was sitting in the player’s box with Patrick and your dad, and it was a relief to see them there supporting you. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this final round match. This match will be played as the best of three sets,” the umpire said. “To the left of the chair, from Switzerland, Anna Mueller. To the right of the chair, from the United States, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/L/N won the toss and elected to serve.”

From his seat in your box, Patrick chuckled. “I bet Anna Mueller’s terrified right now,” he commented. “Going into a match against Y/N and having her serve first would push me over the edge if I was playing her.” 

Next to Patrick, your father happily declared, “If Mueller wasn’t nervous to play Y/N before, she will be once she realises how many aces she has up her sleeve.”

Mueller crouched behind the baseline, nervously twirling her racket between her hands. Her poker face wasn’t nearly as good as yours, betraying her fear as you bounced the ball and prepared to serve. Knowing that you had this effect on your opponent, even before the game had started, made you feel powerful. 

With a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins, you tossed the ball in the air and served it over the tennis net. Mueller ran in the wrong direction, expecting you to serve to her backhand, and cursed when she couldn’t change courses fast enough to return the ball.

Your first ace of the game. 15-love.

Mueller played nervously. She knew your baseline game was strong, but her mistake was assuming that you could only play from the baseline. You decided to play closer to the net, consistently hitting gently when Mueller expected you to go hard and fast, making it impossible for her to generate the power needed to return well.

When you took the first set 6-0, Mueller cursed and turned to her box to yell something at her coach. During the changeover, you could hear her muttering to herself, failing to compose her posture and expression. She looked panicked and angry. From experience, you knew that the right amount of anxiety could help you focus on the match, but anger would destroy a player’s self-control and concentration.

When you served an ace at the beginning of the next set, Mueller stomped her foot angrily and challenged the call. The call held up, declaring your serve was in and awarding you the point. You watched in shock as Mueller’s face twisted with fury, her eyes blazing as she smashed her racket against the ground. Over and over again, the crowd gasped and booed as the frame cracked and the strings bent out of shape. 

“Code violation, racket abuse. Warning, Mueller.” 

From his seat, Patrick smirked, applauding the action while you maintained professionalism. He was the type of player who occasionally broke his racket or committed other code violations, so Patrick admired your ability to hold back. There was something rewarding about watching your opponent fall apart as you waited for her to get it together so you could keep playing. 

The atmosphere of the game changed after Mueller’s outburst. Releasing her anger had done Mueller well, and one of her backhands shot forth like a lightning bolt, making it impossible for you to return. She got a few points in, making you run for it. Sweat glistened on your brows, and your heart pounded, a steady drum beat that echoed the rhythm of your feet as you struggled to return some of Mueller’s balls. The crowd watched in awe as she started finding her rhythm, pushing through the fatigue with a newfound unwavering focus. 

Mueller looked incredibly smug to have caught up with you. So, you let her win a little bit. 

Your father frowned when you served into the net twice, giving Mueller the point. “What’s she doing?” he muttered quietly. “Are the nerves getting to her?”

Patrick shook his head, chuckling as he realised, “She’s throwing the set on purpose.” A smirk graced his lips when he remembered how you used to do the same thing when you played Tashi. “She wants Mueller to think she’s beating her.”

You let yourself enjoy it, toying with Mueller and never letting her know what you planned next. When you volleyed the ball back to her, she sprinted to the net. Just when she got used to playing close to the net, you hit a flat groundstroke past her. Once Mueller realised your pattern, she stayed closer to the baseline, and you hit her with your drop shots, far too close to the net for her to return.

Quickly, you caught up, 7-7. You needed one last game to win the match, and it was your turn to serve. 

Two aces in a row. Mueller yelled in frustration and anger when she missed both serves, once to her forehand and once to her backhand. Your focus sharpened with each passing moment. Serving was your area of expertise. You had the match exactly where you wanted it. 

With each point you won, your confidence grew. Your movements were fluid and instinctive; your racket felt like an extension of your arm, sending powerful, precise shots that left Mueller scrambling to return them. Like always, your serves were lightning fast, unerring and spectacular, kissing the line every time without fail. 

Mueller chased down every ball, but exhaustion was setting in, and her anger had returned. She was irritated that you had let her win, annoyed that it had boosted her ego so much, and furious that she couldn’t get in your head the way you got in hers. 

You were playing the best tennis of your life, each moment a testament to your skill and resilience over the years. The beauty of your game captivated the spectators, leaving the crowd in awe of your mesmerising strokes and masterful returns. The more points you won, the closer you got to winning the tournament. Tension and excitement were palpable, mounting in a crescendo of enthusiastic applause and standing ovations.

“Match point.” 

The cacophony of cheers faded into the background as you bounced the ball in your hand. You were good at keeping the pressure of winning off your shoulders, but the enormity of this point pressed down on you heavily. With your stomach in knots, you adjusted your grip on your tennis racket. Amid all the stress, anxiety, and fear, you felt a spark of determination. 

You didn’t just want to win; you deserved it. 

You served her backhand, which Mueller anticipated and hit back with equal intensity. The ball hit the ground awkwardly on your side of the net, creating minimal bounce with little power. Regardless, you hit it hard. As the two of you rallied back and forth, you followed the sports journalist from earlier’s advice and used a trick shot Patrick had taught you. When Mueller hit your forehand, you pretended to miss the ball. She celebrated, prematurely stopping while you hit the ball back between your legs, surprising Mueller and making her trip as she tried to return the ball. 

As Mueller landed on the floor, the ball bounced on her side of the net for a second time, earning you the point and the Wimbledon Ladies’ Singles title. 

An overwhelming surge of triumph and disbelief hit you all at once. Your ears rang, drowning out the cacophony of the crowd’s ecstatic roars as you collapsed to your knees, dropping your racket. The weight of victory crashed upon you, and tears streamed down your face as you sobbed. Each teardrop released the intense pressure and emotion you had carried through the gruelling tournament. 

You cried for your mother, who you no longer needed to please; for Tashi, your former best friend who would not be here to celebrate this moment with you; and you cried for yourself, the person who got through it all and made it to the other side. 

When you wiped the tears from your cheeks and stood to shake your opponent’s hand, the world around you blurred back into focus. The cheers and applause of the crowd went from being a distant echo to a deafening roar. Mueller barely touched your hand before going to shake the umpire’s and—for a brief, solitary moment—you were enveloped by a profound sense of accomplishment. 

You did it.

After waving to the crowd and thanking the umpire, you turned to your player’s box. There, Patrick stood applauding your victory. His heart swelled with immeasurable pride and love for you, feeling an overwhelming admiration for your strength and dedication. You laughed, running across the court towards the box and excusing yourself as you squeezed past ball boys and line judges. Stepping up on one of the nearby benches, you lifted yourself closer to your boyfriend, who leaned over the railing, giggling.

Up close, Patrick’s eyes were misty, and a broad, genuine smile spread across his face. Every sacrifice you made, every early morning and late night, came rushing back to him in a flood of memories. He could hardly contain his excitement. 

“You just fucking won Wimbledon!” Patrick yelled. “You were incredible!”

“I love you,” you replied, equally breathless and giddy. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Pat.” 

Pushing up on your toes, you hooked your arms around Patrick’s shoulders and kissed him. The crowd cheered even louder around you, but you didn’t care. Nothing and nobody else mattered at that moment. All you knew was that you had just achieved something incredible and Patrick was the only person you wanted to celebrate it with. He held your head carefully and kissed you hard, expressing his passionate pride with every press of his lips.

“Thank you. For reminding me to breathe,” you acknowledged when you parted, gazing up at your boyfriend with sparkling eyes. “And for teaching me your favourite trick shot.”

Patrick chuckled, taking one of your hands and pressing several kisses to the back of it. “That was all you, gorgeous. I had nothing to do with it. This win belongs to you,” he said sincerely. “Fuck, I love you, pretty girl.”

Art Donaldson stood in the crowd, his heart heavy with pride and melancholy as he watched you give Patrick a final kiss before returning to the court for your interview. It was a privilege to watch every powerful swing of your racket and every point you earned. Art was reminded of the countless hours you had poured into your practice, the determination that had always driven you while you were at Stanford. He had once been the one to share in those moments of victory with you, celebrating every win with the joy you now showed on the court. 

But now, as Art saw the happiness in your eyes and heard the crowd’s cheers, a wave of sadness washed over him. He was no longer part of your triumphs. He was just another face in the sea of supporters, knowing your victory wouldn’t be shared with him.

Art’s gaze flickered between you standing on the court and Patrick sitting with your father in the player’s box. His former best friend looked happier than Art had ever seen him, and knowing that your memory of this day would always be intertwined with your relationship with Patrick filled Art with an ugly jealousy. 

He knew he had no right to your life and joy, but Art wanted to celebrate with you. He wanted to tell you that he was proud of you and always knew you had the talent and perseverance to succeed. In fact, there were a lot of things Art wanted to say, including a sincere apology for what he said the night you broke up. But you had moved on, and you were happy, and the last thing Art wanted to do was ruin any of that for you. 

So instead, Art got up and pushed through the crowd, making his way to the exit as he heard your voice thanking Patrick for his love and support over the loudspeakers.

𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 – 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟏𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

It felt good. 

Sitting in the booth with Tashi was almost like when Art used to sit in the dining hall with her at Stanford, back when you, Art, and Tashi were all attached at the hip.

A month ago, Art and Tashi graduated and began working in the professional tennis world, but it meant nothing to either of them without their best friends by their sides. Neither of them could have guessed that you and Patrick would leave behind such a huge hole when you stopped being friends with them.

“Maybe you wanna jump ship?” Art said, half-joking as he signed the bill and paid for their meal. “Come be my assistant coach?” When Tashi stared dumbfoundedly at him, he grinned. “Oh, I get it. You want to work with someone who has a little bit more potential.” 

“No!” Tashi protested. “No. No, it’s not that. I mean, you have plenty of potential. It’s just–” she cut herself off, nervously observing the blond sitting in front of her. It had been years since you and Art broke up, but it felt like yesterday. “You think that would be a good idea?” 

“Why not?” Art retorted. Tashi gestured vaguely, referencing their complex shared past. “That was a long time ago–” 

“–It was not that long ago,” she disagreed, interrupting Art’s attempt at nonchalance. 

“Well, it feels like a long time ago,” Art mumbled. 

“So, you’re saying you’re not in love with her anymore?” Tashi argued, raising a questioning eyebrow at her old friend. 

Art schooled his expression, not wanting to give his lingering emotions away. But Tashi saw through it, recognising the familiar signs that indicated his love for you still ran deep. His features softened at the mention of you, and there was a faraway look in his icy blue eyes.

Back when you were dating Art—and Tashi and Patrick were casually seeing each other—Patrick used to describe the look on his best friend’s face when he first laid eyes on you. That look of pure, absolute adoration and love never once faded from Art’s face at the mention or sight of you. Tashi knew with certainty that it would never fade.

“Well, I’m not holding my breath waiting for her,” Art retorted. “That ship has clearly sailed.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t clutching the hull for dear life,” Tashi remarked, using Art’s ship analogy against him. “Did you see her at Wimbledon?”

“Of course I did,” Art replied, fiddling anxiously with the napkin on the table. 

“She was incredible, wasn’t she? I mean, I always knew she had it in her, but watching her win that final…” Tashi sighed.

If she was as good a friend to you as she always thought, she would have noticed that you used to hold back to help Tashi pursue her dreams of being the best tennis player in the world. Upon reflection, Tashi realised she would never be as good a friend to you as you were to her, and she should never have considered you to be less talented, hard-working, or capable than herself.

“It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Tashi said proudly.

Art agreed, “She’s officially a grand slam winner, the whole world was watching her that day.”

Tashi nodded. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Her lips curved in a disappointed frown, recalling all the times you and Tashi promised you would always be there to celebrate each others’ accomplishments when you were teenagers. “All of a sudden, the whole world feels entitled to a part of her. Instead of going through this journey with her, we’re on the outside looking in, just like everybody else.”

“It was pretty surreal,” Art affirmed. “I mean, I always knew what she was capable of. I remember all those late nights, talking about what she would do if she ever won a grand slam. And now that she has, I can’t help but feel a little lost.”

“Like you should be there with her,” Tashi guessed. She gave Art a sympathetic smile, her eyes soft with understanding. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Art sighed, leaning back in his booth. “We used to be the people who knew her best in the world,” he recalled. “And now, we aren’t a part of her life anymore. It’s not just about tennis or success, it’s about her. She didn’t just hold us all together, she was seeped into the essence of everything I did and everything I dreamed.” The vulnerable honesty in Art’s voice made Tashi swallow harshly. “What am I supposed to do without her now? None of my plans ever accounted for me reaching this point in my life without her in it.”

Art’s words rendered them both silent.

You used to take up so much space in their lives, filling a void neither of them knew existed until you left them. Thinking about you and reflecting on your absence was always bittersweet. There was so much warmth and joy in their memories of you, but they were constantly paired with painful reminders of how much they hurt you. You, who only ever wanted to love and be loved. 

“Maybe this is what we deserve for hurting her in the first place,” Tashi offered. “The things I said to her that day–” she inhaled sharply, pain filling her chest as she recalled the argument that ended your friendship– “I don’t blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.”

“The look on her face when I told her I went to see you the night you fought…” Art shook his head in disappointment, his jaw clenched tightly as the frustration simmered beneath the surface. “I should have told her I went to confront you for hurting her. I should have told her I was desperate to figure out why she was inconsolable, but I let her believe I went to you because I was on your side. I was so angry and frustrated during the break up that I told her things just because I knew they would hurt her. Who does that to someone they love?”

“Us, apparently,” Tashi said, grumbling like she couldn’t believe what they did to you. Reaching across the table, Tashi covered Art’s hand with hers, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “My mom says that Y/N was my life lesson,” she explained. “That losing her was supposed to teach me something.”

“Yeah?” Art met her eyes and frowned. “What did it teach you?”

“To hold on,” Tashi declared. “When you meet someone like her, someone who’s warm and loving and far kinder to you than you deserve, you hold on to her. Because going through life without her is unimaginably worse than when she’s by your side.” 

It hurt to reflect on how much worse life was without you. You had been everything to Art for so long, and his eyes stung with tears every time he thought of you. The emptiness you left behind felt insurmountable, a constant ache he couldn’t escape. Every moment without you reminded him of what he’d lost, of how your presence had once filled his world with light and purpose.

Now, that light was gone, leaving him to navigate the shadows of what used to be; the pain of your absence was a relentless companion.

Art pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, staring at his lap. “This is really stupid, but, uh… After your injury… I couldn’t help but just think about what would have happened if I had beaten Patrick,” he confessed. 

Tashi froze at the mention of how you met Art and Patrick. 

She knew Art well enough to understand that everything he did led back to you and how he lost you. No matter how badly Art wanted to change the past, Tashi knew you would always love him and Patrick throughout your life. 

In a way, Tashi, Art, and Patrick were the three great loves of your life.

One for a friendship that was supposed to last a lifetime, one for the boy who made you realise what it was like to be loved, and one for the man who would wait a lifetime just for a minute of happiness with you.

No matter how much you once loved Art, Tashi knew you would love Patrick in every life, too. It didn’t matter what order you met them in; you were the catalyst that changed each of their lives. 

Tashi thought she was the only objective spectator to your relationships with Art and Patrick. She was your best friend at Stanford when you dated Art, and she was practically a stranger now that you were with Patrick. Watching your romantic relationship unfold on TV and in newspapers and magazines was entirely different from having a front-row seat back in college, but Tashi knew you well enough to see how deeply and genuinely you loved Patrick, just as you had loved Art.

“So you want me to join your team because you couldn’t win Y/N’s number that day?”

Art lifted his head to meet Tashi’s gaze. “No,” he denied. “I want you to join my team because I want to win.”

Tashi suppressed a grin. She should have known that if it wasn’t about you, it was about Patrick. “I think you’d beat him now if you guys played,” she commented, sipping her coffee. “Don’t you think?” 

It was a challenge that Tashi knew Art would easily see through. 

Perhaps Art could beat Patrick if their history wasn’t complicated by you entering their lives. If the two of them were just best friends trying to make it in the tennis world, Art had the skills, practice, and tenacity to win now. After all, he had dedicated himself to the sport at Stanford and had an excellent team supporting him, while Patrick continued to rely on raw talent. As Art steadily climbed the ranks with every game, Patrick floundered somewhere in the lower 200s. 

But all of this was negated by one simple fact. Patrick had the one thing that Art truly wanted: you. 

If Art and Patrick played a match tomorrow, you would be in Patrick’s player box, cheering his name and applauding his wins. Your presence at the match—and in Patrick’s life—would be more than enough for Art to lose every time he faced his former best friend, just as he lost you. The only thing that could give Art a chance to beat Patrick would be having you on his side. 

“Don’t know,” Art replied cryptically. “We, uh… haven’t played professionally, and don’t keep in touch.” Tashi laughed, nearly choking on her coffee. “What?” 

She cleared her throat. “Just… She never saw it,” Tashi explained. “The rivalry between you and Patrick. Ever since that night we first met, she always assumed the two of you were after me.” She shook her head, visibly entertained. “She used to say that I was the sun and she was the moon. But, God, wasn’t she just everything? The moon and the stars and everything in between, that was her.” Tashi and Art shared a soft, sentimental expression. “I never understood why she couldn’t see it. Everything was over the moment you and Patrick met her, and I knew none of us would ever be the same.”

A small smile stretched across Art’s lips. “Yeah…” 

Tashi was right—you had been everything to him. 

Art felt it the moment his eyes first met yours, an instant connection that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if something within him recognised you, a deep and undeniable pull that resonated in both his body and heart. It wasn’t just about your smile or how you moved; it was how your presence seemed to complete something in him, filling a void he hadn’t even known existed.

You became his anchor, the one person who made everything else make sense, and from that moment on, he knew his life would never be the same without you.

“We joked that we weren’t homewreckers the night we met you, but…” Tashi trailed off, sighing as she set her mug on the table and crossed her arms. “I never thought it would come between me and her. I always thought I was a better friend than that. And I hate it, but running into you today is the closest I’ve felt to her in years,” she confessed.

Sitting there opposite your former best friend, Art couldn’t help but agree. So many parts of you lived on in Tashi, remnants of your lifelong friendship that had shaped both of you in ways he could now see clearly. The way she tilted her head when deep in thought mirrored your own, a habit you’d both picked up during your countless late-night conversations. That amused, all-knowing expression on Tashi’s face when Art tried to lie to her was uncannily similar to yours. 

Even her choice of words, the little phrases and inside jokes that only you two shared, brought you vividly to life at that moment, making it feel like a part of you was still there, sitting right across from Art.

“Yeah, me too,” Art agreed, trying to keep the sudden gust of sadness out of his tone. 

To make matters worse, seeing Tashi was the closest Art had felt to you and Patrick in a very long time. 

It brought back memories of his former best friend, who had once been his world. There was a time when the four of you felt inseparable, and now, sitting there, Art could almost hear the echoes of those days. The way Tashi absentmindedly rubbed her forearm was like Patrick used to, a nervous habit that always surfaced during serious conversations. Tashi’s honest recount of how much she missed you felt like a mirror image of how much Art missed Patrick. Being with Tashi now, it was impossible not to feel the empty space left by the absence of the friendships that had once defined them both.

That night, as Tashi stepped into Art’s hotel room, the invisible string that still bound them both to you seemed to tighten, pulling them a little closer to where you slept just a few floors away.

𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 – 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟐𝟖, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

“I just got off the phone with Elora,” you declared, stepping into your shared hotel room with Patrick and finding your boyfriend lounging on the bed with the TV on. “I’ve been asked to play an exhibition match tomorrow. Just something quick and fun before the first round to boost ticket sales for the qualifiers. A bunch of American players from the tour will be there.”

You dropped onto the bed beside Patrick, kicking off your shoes and curling up in his awaiting arms. The two of you had been travelling together for over a year, sharing rooms while on tour and cohabitating in every aspect of your lives. It was like a reward after enduring a long-distance relationship during your final year at Stanford. Instead of just talking on the phone and occasionally getting surprise visits from Patrick, you went everywhere together and supported each other at every match and tournament you attended.

The two of you had slipped into an easy routine. Having the same profession meant that you were constantly going to the same places, and it made travelling and sightseeing so much more special. After working hard for over two weeks at each tournament, exploring new cities with Patrick was the ideal way to wind down and relax. There was something incredibly special and romantic about doing every day of your life with him.

Your relationship had been grabbing headlines ever since the press caught on to the fact that you were together over a year ago, but the attention ramped up exponentially after you won Wimbledon.

What used to be short articles about an up-and-coming, attractive couple in the tennis world had snowballed into detailed timelines of your dates and public appearances with Patrick. Luckily, the public adored you, and there was very little criticism or negativity surrounding your relationship. Other players on the WTA and ATP tour often teased you about being real celebrities, pointing out how rare it was to win public favour as much as you and Patrick did.

Even though this shift was odd, and you had yet to get used to the constant eyes on you, there were perks to having your picture taken professionally every time you went on a date with your boyfriend. You had framed your favourite newspaper clipping, a beautiful picture of you kissing Patrick after winning Wimbledon, with the heading The Darlings of the Tennis World written above it in a large, bold font.

“Great,” Patrick drawled, blinking lazily as he wrapped his arms around you. His hands gravitated under your shirt to draw circles on the bare skin of your midriff, immediately sending butterflies to your stomach. “Which unlucky girl’s getting her ass handed to her while you beat her in straight sets?” he joked, knowing any match you played would end in a crushing defeat for the other player. 

“Actually…” you trailed off, sending him your best smile as Patrick drew his head back to meet your gaze. 

He observed your innocent expression with quizzical, unsure eyes. Even though you were giving him your sweetest look, there was something mischievous about the glint in your eyes. When realisation hit him, Patrick sighed and said, “I’m the unlucky girl, aren’t I?” His distraught tone made laughter bubble from your lips.

“Smart and handsome? I really hit the jackpot,” you teased, buttering him up with compliments so that he would agree more readily. “Come on, Pat, it’ll be fun!” 

“Oh yeah, really fun!” Patrick agreed sarcastically, matching your energetic tone. “Like how a lion treats a lamb during slaughter!”

You rolled your eyes, stifling your laughter at your boyfriend’s dramatics. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll go easy on you,” you said, imitating his voice and tone. He had never used those exact words about playing tennis, but Patrick’s tone was always thick with the same arrogant confidence. “Think about it! If you play against me, you’ll get to see that winning serve of mine up close and personal.”

“Excuse me, I’ve been on the opposing end of your winning serve plenty of times during practice,” Patrick defended. “I always knew you were better than me, gorgeous, but I don’t remember agreeing to public humiliation when we started dating!”

“Drama queen,” you accused. “It really will be fun! We’ll be mic’d up and we can talk and joke the entire time. It’s the best of three sets and it’ll be just like practising together. Come on, what do you say?” At Patrick’s uncertain expression, you sat up in bed and swung a leg over his lap to straddle him. The fire that instantaneously burned in his gaze made you smirk triumphantly. “I’ll be really grateful if you do it,” you said suggestively, placing your hands on his chest and grinning. “Pretty please?”

“Well, since you said pretty please,” Patrick joked, unable to keep the wide smile off his face when you tilted your head at him. “Sure. What’s one more event where everyone thinks you’re out of my league?”

Happily, you exclaimed, “That’s the spirit!” 

“Wait–” Patrick frowned when you got up from his lap and began scurrying around the room looking for your phone– “I thought you were going to show me how grateful you are?”

You snorted. “Nice try. You can have your reward after the exhibition match,” you declared, chuckling quietly.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Patrick complained.

“Don’t act like you don’t love the chase,” you retorted, winking as you texted Elora that you and Patrick were happy to participate in the exhibition match. 

From his place on your shared bed, Patrick rolled onto his stomach and observed you. It was hard to imagine that he had only known you for four years. Your participation in his life felt so insurmountably important that it was like he had known you his entire life. You had seamlessly woven yourself into the fabric of Patrick’s daily existence, shaping his world with a depth and significance that defied the brevity of time. 

Unlike Tashi and Art, Patrick realised early on that you were someone he should hold on to. His life before you had been filled with disappointment from his family, and Patrick recognised what a rarity you were. Having already lost you before when his relationships with Tashi and Art ended, Patrick knew losing you meant losing something irreplaceable. Your presence filled gaps he hadn’t noticed before he met you, making it obvious that you were someone worth cherishing. 

As you picked up a phone call from your coach, Patrick went on his laptop and checked how much money was in his savings account. He won enough matches to pay for plane tickets, tennis equipment, and other daily necessities, saving an immense amount of money because the fat cheque you got from Nike every month more than covered your shared accommodations. Over the last year, in particular, Patrick had started saving for something very special. 

An engagement ring.

As much as Patrick wanted you to have the very best, an engagement ring from Harry Winston or Bulgari just wasn’t within his budget. He was entitled to a family heirloom ring, but Patrick didn’t want to give you something from his family. Any engagement ring he chose had to represent you and your relationship with him, rather than the generations of unhappy, reluctant marriages his family seemed destined to repeat.

After carefully perusing different stores and comparing the cost and quality of various rings, Patrick found the perfect one at Cartier. It was simple and classic, exactly the style you had mentioned you preferred offhandedly on several occasions. To his surprise, it didn’t cost an arm and a leg, and he had almost saved enough to get you the exact ring he wanted you to have.

After Wimbledon, you noticed and commented on the fact that Patrick was training harder than ever. To you, it seemed like he was finally starting to take himself more seriously. Instead of coasting on his natural talent, Patrick began seeing your physical trainer with you and even quit smoking to improve his stamina. What you didn’t know was that he was doing all of this to increase his chances of winning more matches at the US Open, where a significant amount of prize money was on the line.

In Patrick’s mind, the more matches he won, the more money he could take home, and the nicer your engagement ring could be. 

“Hey, do you know what ring size you are?” Patrick asked as casually as he could when your phone call was over. “Jess got a bunch of rings that don’t fit her and she was wondering if you want them instead?”

“That’s so sweet, I can’t believe she thought of me,” you acknowledged, grinning. Ever since you met Patrick and his extended family last year, you were constantly invited to spend time with his cousins Jess and Alex. While Patrick wasn’t best friends with them, they were the closest family he had, so you had accepted several invitations over the past year. “I would love that, Jess has amazing taste in jewellery! Tell her I’m an eight in ring size, but I’ll squeeze into anything she wants to give me,” you joked, not thinking much of Patrick’s question. 

With shaking hands, Patrick sent a text with your ring size to the sales associate at the Cartier store in New York, who had been keeping him updated on when the exact ring he wanted was available. Once the US Open was over, all Patrick had to do was head to Manhattan and pick up the ring. It had taken him almost four months to find the perfect one for you, and then it was just a matter of winning enough prize money to afford it. As long as Patrick won two rounds at the US Open next week, he’d have enough to buy your engagement ring.

Then he would have to decide how and when to propose to you.

[angelsrcute]

You said dom reader is okay so I am LAYING MY BRAINROT ON THE TABLE—

I'd like to respectfully request Overblot Boys (sans Riddle) being dominated by the reader (preferably afab & gn, there's so much submissive fem reader stuff out there & I want rep as a dom-leaning vers).

Those poor boys all need some therapizing & to get out of their own heads so bad— so what's a better way of doing so than taking charge and making them forget how to speak by pleasuring them? Sure, they can be defiant; and they can deal with a firm hand correcting them. But good boys who admit they need help & ask for it can be rewarded with fucking until they're empty and fuzzy-headed. ^^

The only one I had a semi-specific scenario in mind for was Jamil— him being blindfolded while being sucked off. His attempt at trying to regain control leads to him getting a smack on the ass & tied up so the reader can mark his pretty torso with hickies that they press on while cooing to him & edging him until he yields.

... can you tell I've been repressed lately? Lmao-

WALK EM LIKE A DOG. 𝝑𝝔

૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა 𝐍-𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 !! ; Sub!Leona, Jamil and Azul (separate) + Dom!F!Reader ➜ cws: Brat taming, nipple play, biting, blindfold use, gag use, spanking (once), restraints (Jamil), mommy kink, crying, use of strap on, praising (Azul), leash and collar use, cunnilingus, praising, hair pulling (Leona). ᡴꪫ‎

꒰ † ੭ — Part 1; I absolutely loved writing for this idea! Though I'm still wondering about what to write for the rest, don't mind if it's late, haha! <3

❝ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

This man is definitely a brat, always running his big mouth off. So to make him behave you blindfolded him and put a cloth around his mouth, good, now he will finally shut up. You leave trails of kisses down his neck, biting and sucking on his sensitive spot. You kneel down and stroke his cock a few times before taking it in your mouth.

God, it felt so good, he could feel your eyes were on him— his back arching as he gripped the sheets. His moans were muffled by the gag, he tried to pull away but you held him, landing a smack on his ass. “Behave, if you want to cum, you'd have to be a good boy.” You spat out, smiling at his state. You continued what you were doing, pressing kisses on his cock and edging him! When are you even gonna let the poor boy cum!? Atleast he's listening to you like a good boy after being tied up because of his bratty attitude. <3

❝ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 ❞ — 🪦

He'd be such a pathetic crying mess, your good little boy! Just shower him with praises and kisses while you thrust inside his hole with your strap-on and he's already fucked dumb. He can only focus on how good it feels, maybe being weak isn't so bad, if he gets to be in your arms. You'd wipe away his tears and tell him he's the best.

Worship his body, play with his sensitive little nipples, leave love bites on his skin— he loves it all, he'd show them off with no shame if he wanted to. He'd definitely be ashamed about the noises he's making so he buries his head between the pillow as you fuck him. Maybe this guy also has a mommy kink! <3

“Gonna cum for mommy, yeah? Let yourself go, my baby.”

❝ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 ❞ — 🪦

He'd never admit he likes you dominating him, people are supposed to bow down before him— He is the king, isn't he? But no, you're currently sitting on the bed while holding the leash attached to his collar. How degrading. He can't believe he enjoys it!

His tongue darted out, lapping up your sweet juices. Your fingers tangling itself in his hair as you pull his head back, “How about you beg and maybe I'll end your punishment? Fair deal, right?”

He doesn't meet your eyes but whispers something you can't hear, “What was that, sweetie? You're always so loud, what's wrong, hm?” You try not to laugh at the pathetic man in front of you, you can see his ears turning red as he speaks louder, “P-Please let me pleasure you—”

“Good kitty, go ahead.” You watch as he eagerly dives back, you grip his hair tighter as you feel your orgasm coming. You pull him closer and cum in his mouth, he licks you clean. You let go of his hair, letting him catch his breath, “Well done, now, let's reward you for being good for me, shall we?” <3

[natewriteslol]

Rumors: pt.1

Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Vil and you have had a semi one sided rivalry as soon as your time at NRC began. However, the feud soon has to be put aside to stop an anonymous gossip blog attempting to ruin yours and possibly other students’ reputation. Will you and Vil be able to find whoever is behind this? Or will you be a fallen victim to those who call themselves, ‘The Catacombs?’ 

══════════════════════════════

Ever since your explosive introduction at Night Raven, you always had the tendency to stick out like a sore thumb, captivating everyone with minimal effort. You didn’t belong here amongst wizards, beastmen,merfolk and royals, yet you managed to fit right in.

 I think that was what really pissed him off, especially since he had worked so hard in order to accomplish what you do, impressing others and having eyes on him. However Vil had quickly got over it, his success wasn’t measured by popularity and validation from others, and he shouldn’t worry about a measly nobody that could never hold a candle to him. Instead, the dorm leader focused on keeping peace within his life, enjoying the routine and tranquility. 

Which just wasn’t your thing.

You were clumsy, loud and did things your own way with no regard for how others felt. He did give you credit for you having the confidence to be yourself and being extremely empathetic to those who needed it. 

Maybe the tipping point was you seeing him in his most vulnerable state, watching him overblot and lose control in envy against one of the people he hated the most. You were there to solve the issue and stop him alongside your friends. And worst of all he heard you point it out to them, believing that no one could hear your whispers. 

But he heard every word. 

‘He completely lost it over Neige, I’m glad we got it under control,’ he heard you say quietly to Ace and Deuce. 

Later on, you decided to offer him a juicebox as he sat on the empty auditorium stage…

Apple flavored.

Which he swears on his unique magic  that you did that on purpose to spite him, a sick joke that only made his distaste for you stronger. It felt like you knew exactly what to do at every moment to make him lose it, like yelling “on accident” when he needs to master a potion formula, saying something crude in the lunch room, the way it seems everyone is obsessed with you.

 And of course it was extremely shocking to Rook when his dorm leader had begun re-explaining his disdain for the new kid at school. Despite laying back on the dark purple bedding that would make anyone relax and the sunset pink lighting from the lamp, Vil was far from calm. He had to recount the latest anger-inducing incident to his friend during their “sleepovers” on a Friday night, being wary of his not yet fully dried mauve nail polish as he talked with his hands. 

It was this day that really made him angry, his last straw as some would say. He held his pen as he wrote notes busily into his notebook, heavily invested in order to pass the upcoming exam. It was wonderful, as the class was quiet just as he liked it, allowing him to fully concentrate and absorb the contents of the slide show created by Professor Crewel. 

However, it was easy to hear a decrepit wooden door close in the pin-drop silent classroom. As the black and white man’s back was turned to the class, reading out the text of the slides to the class, you, Y/N L/N thought you could be slick enough to be unscathed by Crewel’s wrath

You being late was more set in stone than the heat within the land of the Scalding Sands it seems. Your satchel was barely slung on your shoulder with your weird, round cat creature barely catching up behind, and it was just Vil’s luck that he had to be the poor sap that had the only seat that was available amongst the many wooden tables. Crewel began scolding you as you fumbled in your seat, and whilst onlookers found it hilarious they wouldn’t dare look or let out a snicker at the scene. Your nervousness  made you fumble your belongings in your bag as you attempted to get out your pen and notebook, your arm would touch his. 

Making him neglect his usual manners and his side-eye of judgment fell upon you. Of course you didn’t notice as he began to study your features, the look of panic flooding your face. Although, this moment of looking at you ended up being a grave mistake.

“Mr. Schoenheit, if there is a huge problem with L/N being late to the point where your eyes can’t be bothered to take notes on the slides vital for your final then you will be delighted to join us in a discussion after class,” Crewell spat, his anger piercing the air. 

His lilac eyes quickly reverted to the projector placed in front of the usual chalkboard. He was embarrassed yet no one could judge him or usually break out in whispers, in fear that they would be included in the punishment. Vil cursed at himself internally but that damn out of season, raggedy bag you carried was enough of a distraction, not counting the person attached to it. 

All throughout the lecture, the actor had prayed that Crewell would forget about the mishap completely as there was an hour of class remaining, yet it had appeared that luck was not on his side at all.

He had tried to flee with the crowd of students rushing out the door, hoping no one would pay him any mind. But after he made one sharp movement to get out of his seat- 

“Mr. Schoenheit!”

Shit. 

Everyone had completely rushed out, with some snickering at the scene, not wanting to be there when the scolding would ensue as entertaining as it may be to see. 

“Care to join us in the conversation like I suggested earlier?” Obviously this was not a yes or no question and Vil had no choice in the matter, but nodded out of courtesy. 

“Yes, Professor,” Vil replied, coming down the short steps from his seat in the front row, not making even a hint of eye contact with you. 

“I understand that the action of lateness pesters you heavily, Mr. Schoenheit. Does it not?”

“...Well, yes it does, Mr. Crewel. However, I promise that another incident like this will never happen again and I will be sure to mind my business more when it comes to fellow students,” Vil said, wanting to spit out some words that could please his teacher into letting him go off the hook. 

“Despite being an actor, lying truly isn’t your area of expertise, young pup,” Crewel replied quickly, keeping a hand steady on the pointer he held. He then turned to you, his look softening as despite you not being an astounding student, Crewel favored you very much. Once again your formula of minimal efforts yet good results was absolutely infuriating to him. 

“I truly worry about you Y/N, as along with your grades, your attendance along with Grim’s as a default are. I will be having a meeting with Crowley about the extra work he has you doing on campus to allow you to live here as well. However, I will be suggesting a partner assignment that is extra credit for the both of you.”

“I mean no disrespect Mr. Crewel, but I personally am in need of no extra credit whatsoever. I have a 99.5 percent in this class which will obviously be rounded by the grading admin,” Vil explained with a slight laugh in his voice. You rolled your eyes as it was plain to see that the blonde was putting you down. Sure you may not have a 90 something percent, but he didn’t have gnomes gnawing on his ankles this morning that he had to take care of himself with no magic. 

But Crewel just looked at him with a concerned look, he was no stranger to shade being thrown and he was not about to tolerate that disrespect. He then explained as he moved to his desk organizing papers , “Oh dear, it looks like you have a bit of incorrect info dear pup. The grading admin stopped rounding this year due to academic dishonesty and such. Also I must add that you and Y/N had gotten the exact same test score, a C- if I remember. And with this being a huge difference from your usual scores, this will drag you down, I fear.” 

The blonde’s breath hitched, he would be fucked for this semester and although not royally, that lack of satisfaction would eat him alive. That last exam Vil had little to no time to study due to his role as a villain in “Love Conquers All” on MovieFlix but of course karma stops for no one.

“A way we could solve this though is through our extra credit tutor program. Both of you enroll, Schonheit tutors you and makes sure you get to class on time, and if there is improvement then both of you benefit. And Mr. Schonheit will get the satisfaction he craves for his grades.”

"Does that sound like a plan?" Crewel had waited for a nod from the both of you, but Vil quickly rejected that notion faster than Ruggie could snatch someone’s wallet.  

"How do I know that they will honor their promise, Professor? I am a very busy person and I do not wish to waste my time with someone who does not take things seriously,"

But you found his cocky attitude completely unbearable at this point. There was no way you were going to allow him to speak as if you weren’t standing right next to him. “I actually do take things seriously, please don't act as though you know me,” you said blankly, actually looking at Vil while talking for once.

"Excuse me?" Vil replied, he was thrown off completely due to you being completely silent this entire conversation. 

"Listen, I don't flunk because I don't want to and I don't show up late because I want to. I'm willing to fix it if Crowley changes the work schedule because it's virtually impossible to be a handyman and student all at once sometimes," you clarified. 

`

"I am an honorable person," you held out your hand to Crewel "and I swear I will change. I just need some help."

  Crewel smiled, enjoying the fire in your spirit to stand up for yourself. You then turned to Vil, holding out your hand with a stern expression and as unsettled as he was he took your hand in his gloved one and shook it.

"Good choice my pups, I know you both won't regret this."

But despite having many differences, you both thought the same thing.

‘Yeah right.’

~~~

After the dramatic retelling, the man grabbed the golden, hand held mirror on his night stand to pluck his eyebrows, carrying on his irritated commentary, “So now I have to watch over them like a babysitter. Can you believe this?” 

“Ah, Roi du Poison I do feel sorry for this causing you so much stress, but don’t you believe the little Trickster could hold their end of the bargain?” Rook questioned, as afterall, you were a good friend of his and he knew you of all people could keep a promise. It was always in your heart to get things done, regardless of how you feel about it. 

“Oh please, I will give it a week, Rook,” he replied, hyper fixated on evening the arches of his brows only for Epel with sleepiness intertwined still in his walk, wondering what the cause of the angry tone of voice from Vil was for. 

“What’s going on, you guys?” Epel questioned with a yawn. 

But Vil snapped his fingers in recall, completely ignoring the question, “Ah, Epel you just reminded me, remember when we were walking to class and L/N had come up to you, ruffled your hair and such and was very curt with me? What even was that?”

“...”

“What is it?”

“Vil, Y/N is really aware you don’t like them. They actually talked to me about it today,” Epel explained bluntly. 

Rook nodded in agreement, facing the vanity mirror as he peeled off his face mask“Oui, they try their best to not look at you even.”

Vil paused in thought, he didn’t think he made his dislike toward you so obvious but I guess it was quite the contrary.

“They don’t go spreadin’ but they told us, they’re cool about it though,” the lavender haired boy quickly added, not wanting to make anything worse for you. 

But it didn’t necessarily matter whether or not you both liked one another, what mattered is that you got the job done by solving your faulty grades and attendance. Dislike is just a small hiccup, plus there were plenty of justifiable reasons as to why Vil did not like you, despite being told otherwise from everyone. However, he didn’t face repercussions nor are there heavy consequences for an opinion after all. 

BUZZ.

The trio’s phones either vibrated or let out a cheery notification. Even from the door open ajar to the rest of the dorm, you could hear the different sound effects from student’s devices. The odd coincidence made them all look at their phones at the same time to look at what it was. 

“This just in for some hot new gossip! I heard from a little birdy that the fairest of them all is viciously bullying the new transfer from a whole new world. But…they’re being partnered up to tutor by Crewel! Looks like all beauty doesn’t come with grace :( 

-The Catacombs” 

“The hell is this?” Epel said quietly, staring at the anonymous text message. It wasn’t a registered number, instead it was an auto programming since it was only five numbers reading: 88709. 

“Oh mon dieu, Roi du poisson,” Rook uttered, unknowing of what to say, going from looking horrified at his phone to his dorm leader for any type of response. 

By then the phone notification of Vil’s was ringing out of control, and he could hear Pomefiore members’ reactions to such an appalling message. He was receiving texts non-stop from multiple people asking him all the same questions,

Is it true? 

 Why he would put someone down like that?

 Why does he have a problem with Y/N? 

But a text from one specific person ate him alive completely.  

Jack:

Hey, I don’t know if you saw the message

He quickly typed to the beastman in attempt to defend himself, knowing what they both went through together as children. Vil couldn’t let Jack of all people misinterpret him as this bully to his good friend. 

Vil:

I would never bully anyone, nor do I waste my energy on people I don’t like. The stress ages you too much 

Are you seriously going to believe this anonymous crap over me Jack?

Jack:

I’ll talk to you later.

It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I have never heard the nicest things about you from them.

Something like this absolutely could not get out to the public, bullying scandals can completely drag down a career as almost everyone goes through that traumatic experience of being casted aside because you’re different. And he would never be a monster like that toward someone, but playing villains in countless movies and tv shows would make it seem completely believable. 

It was them who most definitely put out that rumor, and Vil didn’t care whether it was late at night, or if Rook and Epel wanted him to stop.

He was paying a visit. 

~~~

With nothing planned and being extremely exhausted, this might’ve been the slowest moving Friday night you’ve ever experienced. And while you haven’t been inclined to care too much about what people say about you, to say you weren’t haunted by your encounter with Vil would be an understatement. Of course you were well aware of his distaste for you, but today it just felt as though it reached a boiling point with the way he was acting. But to take your mind off of it, you freshened up after a long day in class, slipped on something comfortable, put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” and decided to watch some movies on your laptop whilst eating snacks with Grim. After all, you deserved a reward as it would be the last day of relaxation before you had to lock down completely on your education. 

Your cat and yourself ended up nodding off to sleep on your couch easily due to the calming environment of your house, as the ghosts decided to take a hint on the mood you were in and were extremely quiet. As both of you were catching up on needed rest, you heard an excessive pounding on your door.  Whoever this was, it felt like they were about to break down your door with how aggressive they were knocking. 

Grim nearly attached to the ceiling with fear, making you yelp in fear, naturally frightened to answer the door to see who was behind that hostility. Your eyes bolted to your tall case clock, the time reading 10:32pm, the late time didn’t ease your anxiety whatsoever.

However, after adjusting to your surroundings, you decided that you needed to answer as to whoever was continuing to hammer on your door as it was giving you a headache. Neglecting your human world instincts of not opening doors to strangers, you walked up to your tall mahogany door, only to find your favorite person on the other side.  

Vil Schoenheit. 

His face was painted with true anger that you’ve only seen during his overblot, “You have some goddamn nerve writing that shit about me.”

You were absolutely frazzled and confused overall, “What even are you talking about? And why are you at my house?”

“Answer your fucking phone and you will find out,” the blonde replied noxiously, watching your every move believing that you were trying to play stupid with him. 

As you opened your phone screen, your eyes were lit up by notifications, as everyone and their mother had texted and called you in a matter of minutes. 

But one message sat completely unfamiliar coming from that fateful, 5 digit number. 

It was horrible and beyond untrue, even though he didn’t like you, you would never stretch it to bullying. Maybe as a joke amongst friends but never to be taken seriously. And as you digested that everyone had gotten this text message and with him being a celebrity this would do heavy damage. And whoever wrote this was out to get you both as many are absolutely in love with Vil, others hate bullying and hearing a glorified superstar being accused of such horrible things would make tabloids run with this story. 

This was a complete lose lose situation. 

You looked up to see Vil hovering over you, watching you like a hawk, you swore you saw his eye twitch with irritation, “I would never write something like this. And listen I am so sorry-”

“Who else would write something like this? Do you think I’m a damn fool-?” A small hand on his shoulder cut off his angry tirade progressing as he was about to move forward.

“Vil, we are going to get nowhere if you just get angry and lose control, now Y/N do you have any clue as to who would write something like this?” your friend Epel questioned kindly, juxtaposing his dorm leader completely. 

“Not exactly, I don’t hate Vil at all like that and I wouldn’t spend my Friday night making up shit like that and you can check all of my technology,” you defended, offering your phone.

His suspicion got the better of him, snatching it out of your phone Vil scrolled through your phone messaging history. And despite going against his suspicion, he didn’t have any concrete proof that you were the culprit.

So until then, he guessed that you were just as wronged as him.

~~~

You all quickly moved to the inside of your house, both to get away from the cold night air, but also to get out of sight as to anyone who could be watching all of you right now. To say that this made all of you, especially you and Vil paranoid wasn’t an over exaggeration. Beginning to theorize with your two friends as to who would write something like this about you two. But unfortunately, every possible “lead” you had was just a dead end, no clear motive, but then again who would need a motive for a stunt like this. It was obvious that attention was what they craved, to drive both of you up the wall and unfortunately they succeeded.  

“All they gave is a nickname, but any phone number could be tracked to a specific device used,” You said, as student announcements used 5 digit numbers all of the time, this person had to be skilled in tech. 

Vil leached off of your theory, “The catacombs is quite a gothic name afterall, we need to search Ignihyde or Diasomnia.” 

“Why them? That seems stereotypical” you asked, feeling argumentative on such a baseless theory. 

“Because, Ignihyde is the most technologically advanced dorm, and Diasomnia students seem like the type to enjoy playing tricks like this anyway,” Vil explained as if it were obvious, his sharp gaze never leaving yours as he spoke.

While the flames of his anger had been flamed, it seemed as though his disdain for you was more permanent than a wine stain on a wedding dress. Never fleeting even during this moment of vulnerability from both ends, but you had no energy to begin bickering about it.

“Roi du poisson et mon Trickster, if we want to find whoever is doing this cruel joke, you must put aside your differences and work together,” Rook said, cutting the tension and bringing the platinum blonde back to Earth. 

Whilst both of you didn’t want to admit it, the archer was right. If you wanted to figure this out you couldn’t be at each other's throats, fighting one another constantly. Otherwise you would accomplish little to nothing. 

And there was no way ‘The Catacombs’ could be hidden forever, and you would make sure to uncover the skeletons within it. 

~~~

A/N: Hi everyone! This fic takes inspo from an amazing novel that I read called "Ace of Spades" please read it its absolutely fantastic and the author is a genius. Thank you for bearing with me for the long time it takes to pump out content, you guys are amazing and it's always great to have opportunities to write.

xoxo, Nate <3

Taglist: (pls let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!!)

[julietsbody]

cherry cream pie

words : 3,142

tags : 18+!!!!!!!!!! mdni , p in v sex , semi - public sex , fingering , sadism , yes coriolanus is a pervert… peacekeeper!snow , district 10!! no aftercare mentioned!!! coriolanus is also just an asshole in this , per usual

p.s. : this is also posted on my ao3! ( divider by s-hyia btw )

it’s safe to say some of the peacekeepers got drunk on their power. 

one of them, especially, was the one with a platinum blonde buzzcut, you didn’t know his name, but often times he would stop by your shop and either be extremely kind, or a complete asshole. 

coriolanus dreamed of control, craved it. a sickening thought, to imagine the bruised skin, deep purples, burgundy reds, bright yellows. the ideas of making someone cry, hot tears rushing down their flushed cheeks, he imagines his fingers dipping into their skin, leaving dents. 

the idea of someone scarlet from his touch. 

sadistic, that’s what many would call it, call him. 

but he denies it, heavily, even though deep down he knows he has a certain hunger for corruption, for control. his gaze is calloused on you, he tends to always station himself near your stand, watch you smile at the costumers, greet them with warm words and soft exchanges. 

he watches your skirt threaten up your thighs whenever you bend over, chastely grabbing items without any knowledge of the man who’s imagining fucking you from behind. 

sometimes you do acknowledge it, though, you never share the looks, but he watches you shift uncomfortably under his gaze, the edges of your lips dipping to a frown. 

he imagines what colors he could paint on your skin from his harsh touches, when he grabs your jaw roughly, would it leave dents of white where the pads of his fingers dug into your skin with pink outlines? when he slaps your ass, would it leave a hand mark? when he bites your neck, would it leave teeth marks? when he makes you bleed, how long would it take for you to heal? when he bruises you, what colors would appear to haunt you? 

it was a priority for coriolanus to find that out. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“do i scare you?” coriolanus questions once, noticing the way you immediately glare at him whenever he’s around. 

you shake your head slowly, lips barely parted, he wants to shove his fingers between those lips, pry your mouth open and spit down your throat. 

the skin under his right eye twitches, and he continues, “you sure?” 

you hesitate, “yeah—“ 

“you don’t like me?” he swipes a finger on the vanilla cream you always top the pies with, bringing it up to his lips, “i keep you safe, you know.” 

“you intimidate me,” you respond reluctantly, watching his lips move around his finger, relishing in the taste of the buttercream. 

“so i scare you,” he corrects, and curtly smiles when your frown deepens. 

“you don’t,” your southern drawl, with that sweet sugar - coated voice, it’s enough to have him imagining you moaning out his name. coriolanus, don’ stop, ‘m gonna cum… suddenly, his uniform is tighter, and the air is hotter. 

“why do i intimidate you, then?” 

he acts as if he doesn’t carry a fully loaded machine gun with him at all times, but you ignore that, “no.” 

you don’t want to entertain him, you see it in his eyes that he thrives off of this, he adores to see people cower underneath him, fear him. 

“say it,” his voice is firmer, he’s trying to scare you into saying it. 

right, power trip. 

“if i tell you, you’ll use it against me.” you confess. 

his head tips up, a new tint shading over his eyes, “how do you know that?” 

“it’s just what i know,” you cross your arms, and he notices the way it accentuates your breasts, pushes them together and pulls them up, making the plush flesh more noticeable, nipple threatening to peak out from your dress, “it’s just the way you are.” 

coriolanus doesn’t say anything, his eyes moving up to your collarbone, he imagines biting it, teeth sinking into the thin flesh and grazing the bone. bone against bone. 

“you’re trying to find what makes me vulnerable, what makes me scared,” your tongue moves out your mouth, wetting your chapped lips. 

“is it working?” he wants to reach in, to touch you, to pull your soft flesh onto him. 

“no,” you move away, and again, coriolanus is stuck there, alone, with his fantasies. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

coriolanus doesn’t like to lose, especially when he’s obsessed with something, he doesn’t like to let it go. his recent obsession was you, in your gingham prints, thin denims, your sweet scents, and the way your pupils always dilate when you see him. 

“is your father here?” he startles you, at your own home, watching you jump in fright and your hand quickly moves onto your chest to ease your pulse when you realize it’s just him. 

how did he know where you lived? 

“no,” you exhale, humiliation heating up your cheeks. you were wearing more casual clothing, not your fancy dress, just some shorts and a gingham top. he wants to rip the fabric apart, to wrap his fingers around your throat, leave bruises, “how do you know where i live?” 

he shrugs, “someone told me.” 

so he was asking about you, you glare into his cocky smirk, “who?” 

“i can’t say, doll,” he memorizes the way your ass peaks out from the denim of your shorts when you try to turn away from him, and he moves closer to grab your wrist, “why do you hate me?” 

you inhale, staring up at him, “i don’t hate you, let go—“ 

he doesn’t let go, “you do hate me.” 

“you’re tryin’ to make me vulnerable, officer, please—“ 

“do i make you vulnerable?” 

and suddenly you stop, you stop trying to resist his touch, you stop staring at him angrily. and it becomes unbearably clear why you hate him so much, you hate him because you’re attracted to him, you hate him because you desire him, because you blush every time his teal eyes crawl down your frame, because you get shy every time he’s around— and being aggressive is your way of hiding it. 

“you do more than that,” you admit, swallowing. 

“yeah?” his other hand moves to hold your jaw, pads of his fingers squishing the skin together ever so slightly, watching the way your lips pucker when he does. 

“offiicer—“ you exhale, and he only smiles. 

“do you think about me, doll?” 

“yes, and i hate you because you won’t leave my mind.” 

truth, all you think about is the officer, the way his hands flex and his joints pop when he does, the way he grips his gun with ease, the way his muscles flex underneath his uniform. the way he’s so, so strong— strong enough to throw someone around with ease, the way your thighs rub together whenever he stations himself near your stand. 

“what do you think about, when you think of me?” 

his jaw ticks, and yours loosens, “how strong you are.” 

“is that so?” his eyebrow cocks for a second, and your eyes flicker to the hand wrapped around your wrist, engulfing it with ease. 

“yes, and the way you look at me— like you want to eat me, to hurt me, to do things to me,” the things in question, to fuck you. 

“do you want me to?” he admires the way your cheeks flush. 

“yes,” you hush out, barely audible. 

“what was that?” 

you glare up at him, again, “officer.” 

“doll,” he threatens, nails digging in to your skin, immediately making you grow submissive, “repeat it.” 

you hiss at the sharp feeling of his nails drawing crimson from your skin, “yes, yes— officer.” 

“did you touch yourself, thinking of me?” 

you nod. 

coriolanus’ lips are against yours when he slots his against yours, teeth clashing against teeth, a hungry kiss. he was biting at the delicate skin of your lips in a way that makes your body writhe, prying your lips apart and forcing his tongue into your mouth. he wants to brand you as his own, wants to carve SNOW’s into your skin and watch the blood drip from each letter. 

his tongue curls as it moves around your mouth, a possessiveness to it, a desire to taste the sweetness that coats you. his lips were unrelenting, taking advantage of the way you melt into his harsh touch, the way you fall pliable in it, the way you become obsessed with every way he manhandles you. 

his lips chase yours when you pull away, “my pa’s gonna be back any minute, officer—“ 

“better be quick, then, hm?” he removes his fingers from your jaw, pulling them down to your breasts and gripping them through the poorly made fabric. 

his lips move to press open mouthed kisses onto your neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. 

he rips the fabric apart, easily, hearing you gasp at the feeling of your breasts against the cool air, the way he takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling the delicate skin across the pads of his calloused fingers. then he pinches, and chuckles when your hips buck into him, a whine slipping from your lips. 

it was pathetic, for such a hard - headed woman like you to be brought down to being so submissive for him. 

he moves you back against a counter, his maw spreading open until his teeth are caught on your neck, biting down. your fingers clench onto the wood of the counter, hissing from the pain of his bite, “officer, that hurts—“ 

he only hums, he was glad it hurt, and when he pulled away, a metallic taste burns on his teeth. 

he kneads the flesh of your breast, pressing a gentle kiss to where he had bit you, watching the crimson that ever so slowly bubbles to the top of the broken flesh and seeps out. 

oh, how could you explain this to your pa? 

he smiles at the thought of you crying in front of your father, saying nothing happened, saying it was an animal that bit you. 

your doe eyes peer up at him, glossy from your tears, and his head only tilts to the side, finding no sympathy for the pain he inflicted upon you. his hand dips down from your breast to your denim shorts, “you okay, doll?” 

yes, coriolanus didn’t feel any guilt, but he still wants to make sure you’re okay enough to go on. 

you nod immediately, “yes, just hurts.” 

he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, catching one of the salty tears rolling down, “i’m sorry.” 

he isn’t sorry. 

his fingertips dip underneath your layers of shorts and panties, reaching to your cunt while he mumbles sweet praises, like how beautiful you look when you cry, how wet you are for him, how he’s always thought of this. 

his lips fall to your shoulder, fingers rubbing circles on your clit as his lips part again, first planting a soft kiss, then biting again. a masochistic moan slips from your lips, and he feels your wetness grow. you liked this, you liked the pain, and it makes him smile against your delicate skin. 

his fingers tease against your entrance, and when he feels your hips buck against them, trying to pull his fingers in, he moves them away. your desperate whimper only makes him laugh, admiring the way your thighs shake. 

“you’re desperate, aren’t you, doll?” his lips trail with sloppy kisses down to your breast, taking your nipple between his lips. 

“yes, yes— officer, i want—“ you exhale, a hand moving to pass through his buzzed hair, “want them inside me, please.” 

“is that so?” he’s trying to ruin you, his eyes moving up to your face, watching more tears spill from your doe eyes, the desperation all too much for you. 

“yes— i’ll be good, officer, i promise.” 

and so he plunges two fingers into you without hesitation, admiring the way you suck him in so easily, swallowing the flesh through your puffy walls. it was obscene, to hear you moan from the feeling of his long fingers moving inside of you, the wet squelches as he pumps them into you and curls them against your sweet spots. 

it was as if he knew your body better than you, yourself did, he knew how to make you cry out, how to make your back arch, your eyes squeeze shut, and your legs shake. 

he bites your tit, and your back is arching against him. 

in this moment you realize why he’s biting so much, not only does it seem like he’s trying to consume you, it’s also that he’s marking you, claiming you as his own, branding you through his teeth with every bite.

his pace quickens, making your eyes flutter shut and have your hips grinding against his fingers. 

as soon as he feels the movement of your hips, he stops. and your eyes immediately flutter open, frowning at him, “officer—“ 

“hm?” he moves up, carefully ripping off your shorts, nearly tearing the fabric when he takes your panties down as well, causing a pile of your fragmented clothes on the floor. 

he then forces your legs apart once more, delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. you whimper, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him, to find some kind of mercy in his eyes, some part of him that wants to treat you good. you find nothing.

instead, his hand is back on your jaw, fingers trying to pry your mouth open, “open, princess.”

so your lips part, and he immediately spits down your throat, “swallow.” 

and you did, you swallow the liquid coated in his dna, and his fingers return inside of you, pounding into your cunt immediately. his hands turn mean, painful as they move onto you, nearly bruising your walls as his fingers fill you up so well. 

your body jolts with sparks of pleasure, a satisfaction you fear may be unbearable, and the fear of someone catching you seems to dissipate underneath his touch. 

his nails find themselves digging through the skin of your face again, the delicate flesh becoming bruised from him. it’s hot, the air is humid, the lava that coats your skin. it was as if you were in front the gates of hell, being tormented by your sins, and coriolanus’ mumbles of you being a filthy slut is what makes him the tormenter. 

you gasp, fingers finding his wrist and grasping it, “officer— ‘m gonna cum.. please…” 

he smiles, sharp teeth appearing underneath his lips, a wolf and a bunny, “yeah? gonna cum for me, doll?” 

you nod, whimpering in agreement as he shows absolutely no mercy for you, even allowing his thumb to swipe against your swollen clit, making your eyes roll back. he doesn’t stop until your walls are fluttering around him, legs violently shaking from the orgasm that wracks your body. 

you were sure he would be done there, but he wasn’t. his fingers pull out, and he immediately delivers another harsh slap to your cunt, making you jolt as maroon continues to pour from your neck, tracing down your collarbone and falling threatening close to your breasts. the same crimson that coats his teeth, the teeth that bit you, that wanted to consume you like you were just another one of those pies that you make. 

he moves to undo his belt, ignoring the way his gun clatters to the ground, he could care less if it went off, too. 

he was too busy drunk off the idea of what you’re going to feel like around his cock, how your walls will suck him in with pure ease, like you were molded to fit onto his cock. molded just for him, he licks the metallic crimson on the crevices of his teeth as he frees his cock, lining it up with your entrance. 

“this is gonna hurt, princess,” he murmurs out as he slowly eases in, teeth gritting at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. 

your eyes widen, pupils blown out and jaw hung slack, his cock stretching you out so much you were sure you were being split in half. 

his free hand presses against your stomach, other crawling to wrap around your neck, soaking with the pomegranate juice that poured from you. 

he feels how his cock pokes at your skin once he bottoms out, forming a bulge inside of you. cute, you were so small compared to him, he just wanted to rip you apart, to throw you around, shove you in all different positions and fuck you until you were just a drooling, sloppy, unintelligible mess. until all you could think about was his cock, and the fact that his cum was oozing from your cunt. 

his fingers pry into your skin, hips moving to snap into you with no sign of softness.  

“fuck,” you mumble out at the feeling of his cock spearing you. 

he watches the pain ridden tears slip down your cheeks, “you’re okay, princess, you’re okay.” 

this is the only time he will reassure you, hips slowing down to allow you to adjust. 

maybe he did have some mercy within him. 

it doesn’t take you long to nod up at him, signaling that he can move faster again, and he doesn’t take long to follow up with that. his hips start pounding into you again, wracking your body against the counter, he can feel it shaking, the way the floor creaks with every powerful thrust. his hand moves from your stomach, raising and delivering a sharp slap to your face. 

unprovoked? yes. but he adores the way blood rushes to your cheek, painting it a pretty pink as you sob out form the mixtures of pain and pleasure, and the overstimulation of your past orgasm following another. 

“such a pretty slut, just for me,” he mumbles out, delivering another slap to the same cheek, watching your face scrunch from the stinging pain. 

“officer,” you moan out, your orgasm fastening with each slap. 

“yes, princess?” he grits out through his teeth, nearing his orgasm as well. 

“‘m gonna cum, officer, please let me—“ he’s gripping your throat so hard, you can barely breathe, “—cum.” 

“you can cum, doll, cum on my cock,“ he spits out, admiring the way your body constricts at the lack of air. 

and you cum, right on his cock, and he follows with his orgasm as well. 

a creampie, that’s what you had become, just another pie full of cream. 

he pulls out, watching his cum spill out of you. 

“see you next time, princess.” 

[ravennaortiz]

Silver Fox Daddy

This story came from the Daddy Dom Headcanon and is for the lovely @privatetruths

As always 18+. Smut below the cut! Rough oral (m receiving), spanking, light face slapping, semi public

“Sorry daddy for being naughty” you whispered as you laying over Chibs knees. Your ass felt like it was on fire from the spanking you had been getting for the last five minutes. You had only been teasing him when you had told him maybe you deserved a spanking for continuing to call him daddy in the store. You had been loud and obnoxious drawing to much attention for his liking. You knew he worried about your age gap and you loved to get him riled up about it. Never had you imagined him dragging you into the stores dressing room and bending you over his knee in the cramped space.

Chibs chuckled darkly as he adjusted himself on the small bench. His erection painfully cramped under your body and his jeans. “Just can’t learn to watch that mouth can ye Lassie” murmured Chibs as he kneaded your bruising ass cheeks making you squirm and whimper. Chibs grinned as he shoved you off his lap to undo his jeans. He groaned and tilted his head back against the mirror behind him as he freed his cock.

You sat sniffling on the dressing room floor. Eyes following his cock as it bobbed in the air. Your mouth watered at the thought of him forcing you too blow him. Making your makeup run more as he used your mouth for his pleasure. The sounds and shadows of people passing on the other side of the thin curtain had heat pooling even more between your thighs.

Chibs opened his eyes as he used one hand to lightly stroke his aching cock. Hs eyes boring into you as you sat entranced by his actions. This was out of character for him and a small part of him wanted to stop and take you home. The other part wanted those pretty lips around him while your doe eyes locked on his. To caress your face as he filled your throat. Too sit on your face as he fucked your mouth like it was your pussy.

“Come here Lassie.” Beckoned Chibs as he continued to stroke himself as he opened his legs wide for you. Swallowing hard you moved between his knees, smiling as he caressed your head gently. Obediently you opened your mouth as he gently steered your head to his cock. You moaned as the first taste of his precum hit your taste buds. “Shh” hushed Chibs as he popped your cheek with two fingers. “Be a quiet girl while you suck Daddies cock”.

You use your tongue to flick the underside of the head of his cock each time he enters your mouth as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of your mouth. Hands on either side of your head slowly guiding you up and down. Your try to go at your own pace but he just tightens his grip and thrusts one time quickly making you gag as the tip hits the back of your throat painfully. “I’ll decide how fast I get off kitten” growls Chibs as he smiles down at you as your eyes lock with his. You nod as best you can with a cock stuffed in your mouth.

Chibs keeps his eyes locked on yours as he continued to fuck your mouth. You rest your hands on his thighs, working on breathing through your nose as he keeps your mouth stuffed. Drool bubbles out around him, coating his lap and running down into your hair, neck and chest. Chibs grunts as he feels his orgasm building. The sight before him of your face covered in makeup and drool combined with the sensation of your warm, wet, mouth has him yanking from you harshly. You pant trying to catch your breath as you move your sore jaw around.

Chibs opens his eyes as he regains control. The sight of his cock resting on your forehead makes him smile. Gently he brushes away your drool from your lips. “Doing so well. So pretty with me cock in your mouth” he coos making your grin at him.

Carefully he gets down on the ground with you. You swallow hard in anticipation of him impaling you on his cock finally as he grabs for your legs. Quickly you open them wide revealing your sticky thighs and dripping hole. “Sorry love. As inviting as she looks I have to decline until we get home” stated Chibs as he closed your legs and straddles your chest. Confusion washed over you as he shoved you farther under the bench until your mouth was below his cock.

“Gonna fuck that mouth some more.” Stated Chibs as he turned around over you resting his balls on your forehead as his cock slipped back into your mouth. “Good girl” murmured Chibs as he slid farther in. This angle had you struggling for air and your hand snaked down to your pussy. “Don’t” stated Chibs lowly as he watched your hand. Once you had moved your hand back to lay by your side he began to fuck into your mouth. He quickly started violently thrusting into your throat as his hands came to wrap around it. His grip making your throat constrict around his cock even tighter than before. You choked and gagged, vison tunneling as he used your mouth like his personal fleshlight. You pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing. Your arousal pooling under you as you bucked your hips involuntarily.

Without warning a couple minutes later Chibs yanked from your mouth with a feral moan. His cock sprayed you with his hot seed as he coated your hair, face and chest with his release. Once he was empty he let his cock flop onto your cheek as he panted over you. “You are so beautiful covered in my cum lassie.” He murmured as he used two fingers to bring some up to your lips. Painting them with his cum before pushing them into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of him as he fucked his cum into your mouth.

Before either of you could say or do anything else a voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Police have been called. I suggest you cleaned up and get out before they arrive.”

“We get home I’m gonna fill that pussy with cum and then move on to that ass. Then back to ye mouth. Won’t be any sleep tonight” stated Chibs as he put his cock away and stood up zipping his pants.

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[byunpum]

They caught us | Part 3 |

Pairing: Neteyam x human reader

Tags: teasing, crushes, Smut and some dom-neteyam, Semi public, Size differents.

Warning: Pure smut, the characters have 20's

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 | Part 4

And yes, Norm had kept his promise. He had tried to keep you two apart for at least the last week, but that was impossible. How was he going to keep you two from meeting, he had things to do in the lab, and you weren't little kids, you had to control yourselves. So he trusted that you would obey. But he was wrong.

It was mid-day, you didn't have much to do, so you decided to visit Kiri at the Mo'at hut. You stayed with the women for a while until you heard the voices of loak and neteyam. They had returned from a routine checkup. As you enter the hut neteyam notices your presence, and he smiles a little. The boy couldn't control his need to get his hands off you. So in one quick movement, he sits down behind you, and pulls you onto his lap. The boys didn't react, they knew you and neteyam had a relationship. Even mo'at, the woman was not interested in the act. Everyone went on talking and doing their business. You had some herbs in your hands, ready to mix them. When you feel neteyam come up to you and kiss the back of your neck. "Easy" you say with a smile on your face.

Neteyam knows you don't bother with the gesture, and keeps planting kisses on your neck. You just laugh, until you turn your head to confront him. "What do you think you're doing?" you look at him, and you can see his face. He had this face of excited, his eyes were dilated and fatigued. "Let's go to another area sweetheart" says neteyam in a low voice, close to your ear. "But I'm working here" you try to distract him. " Y/n I need you… I need to be inside you" he whispers, you are surprised by his words making some of your mixture spill out. You give him another look and stand up offering him your hand. "Mo'at we're going to get something… we'll be back quickly" you say, as you leave the hut. Neteyam's tail wagged back and forth.

You walk a bit, going to an area of the cave where there were no people. It was a place they used to store things. "Here… hey you can't say those things, and more so if there are people around" you say, being surprised when neteyam kneels down in front of you, taking your hips and turns you around to bend over one of the weapon box that was in the place. Leaving your ass in the air, neteyam lined up on your ass to rub his growing erection. "I can smell how wet you are…I imagine loak could smell it too. He looked very very eager" hearing neteyam's words cause you to move your hips back. Neteyam laughs a little, he knows about loak's little crush on you. And knowing that he is the only one who can have you fills him with pride.

"Why don't we take these things off" neteyam makes quick work of your pants, you had more comfortable clothes and even a navi outfit that kiri had prepared for you. But you knew that if you wore it, neteyam would be fucking you all around, so it was better to use your regular clothes. The pants went quickly down your legs to your heels, you two had to be quick… so neteyam decided to leave your panties on. The boy moves his erection closer to your clothed wetness and moves his hips, playing with you. "Nete… go ahead" you moan, following the movements of his hips.

He moves aside your panties, to play with your folds running his long finger along your already wet pussy. "You are so wet, how long have you been like this?" neteyam says as he inserts a finger and watches your walls close around it. "All morning" you cry out, the movements of neteyam's fingers filling you was overwhelming. It always was. "Wow…you are so ready" Even though you weren't seeing it, you could imagine the smile he had on his face. You felt neteyam pull away from you, you feel your panties try to adjust to your wetness and the chill of the wind hit you, making your arousal grow.

You listen as he is taking off his loincloth, it always amazed you how that tiny thing could hold his cock. And boy, it was no ordinary cock. You could feel it when he put it just above your lower back, it was hard and already had pre-semen coming out of its tip. " If you could see how far it goes… you are so small ma Y/N" neteyam's words sounded more like a moan, as he moved his hands around your waist and leaned back a little on top of you. Placing his hands just below your belly button. "Here…right here is going to make a big bulge mmm you're going to look beautiful" the more he talk the more he pushed you over the edge. "Just…" your words cut off, as you feel neteyam move your panties to the side and settle his cock at your entrance, Playing a little with the tip of his cock in your folds.

"If you don't get it inside now…." You scream, causing neteyam to give your ass a squeeze. "Or else what… you won't do anything" neteyam gives you a kiss on your back, as he starts to move in you. You gasp, This man starts at 14 inches. And it was never easy for you to take it. "Relax…easy. Let him enter" neteyam compliments you, gently caressing your hips as he continues to move forward. Slowly but surely. You're whimpering on the wooden box, some tears pooling on your face, it's a feeling of pain and pleasure.

When he finally gets to where his cock reaches inside you, he's only about some inches away from being all the way inside you, and just the thought of being able to get further inside you turns him on even more. They stay in this position for a while, until you move a little on his cock as a signal for him to start moving. Neteyam catches on quickly, and starts to slowly grind on you. He likes to watch his cock go in and out of your little pussy. Your moans, as he is filling you drive him crazy. One of his hands moves down to your lower stomach, rubbing the bump that was forming in your belly.

"Do you feel this?" says neteyam, in a husky tone. "Y-yes" you groan, you feel neteyam squeeze the bump, just as it was entering you. "Ahhh neteyam… stop…." You moan, it felt so good. " My little Y/N…you look so beautiful" he speaks in moans, he couldn't help but feel the build up of excitement in his own body. Neteyam still moving, but now at a faster and more constant rhythm. You were a sea of moans and low cries. You didn't want anyone to hear, you were in an empty area, but still several people came here looking for things.

Out of nowhere you heard some voices, this made you nervous. Making you try to stand up. But neteyam's hand stopped you and squeezed you on the wood. "Stay quiet" said neteyam, while continuing to fuck you from behind, you could hear the dirty noises that your cunt made when it hit neteyam's cock. The boy didn't stop, standing up a little to see who was coming. He could see from a distance how two people were standing near some boxes.

Neteyam bent down fast, and lay on your back, but never stopped fucking you. Even the simple idea of them watching him fuck his pretty girlfriend was pushing him over the edge. His thrusts were harder and faster. You placed your hand over your mouth, to prevent them from hearing your moans. But the noise caused by the wetness of both of you was inevitable.

"Do you hear something?" says one of the men, he was close but quite far away from you. " mmm I don't think so" says the other, taking several cans of food from one of the boxes. "Yeah, it's something like…you know" the man laughs nervously. "You're imagining it. …. Let's get out of here" the other man starts walking back, but the other is not convinced. He knows he's hearing something. So he decides to investigate a bit. "Dude…let's go" says the man at the exit. As he watches his friend walk back into the cave.

As the man was getting closer, there was neteyam all over you…fucking you like an animal in heat. He was biting your shoulder, to keep him from moaning. You knew you were going to be bruised the next day but you didn't care. The pleasure was pure ecstasy, you were about to come and you could feel neteyam coming because his thrusts were sloppy and changed rhythm. The man followed the noise and came closer to you, the adrenaline of being discovered took over your bodies, because just when the man was only 6 feet away from discovering you, Neteyam releases his cum in your pussy and you could feel it.

Neteyam released his cum inside you, pumping a little more, so that you would reach your orgasm and you did, your hips moved in sync with Neteyam's as you both came down from your heights. The man heard no more noise, and stopped. He looked around the area some more and decided to turn back to his friend.

"I told you it was nothing," says the man, as he watches his friend walk over. They both walk away and leave the cave alone. But there you were, feeling his cum run down your inner thighs, and neteyam's soft cock was inside you. Neteyam was lying on your back, making sure no one was in the area. "Next time, I want to do it in my family hut," neteyam says, kissing your shoulder.

I hope you like this part. I'm not very good at writing smut, but I do my best. This would be the last part, but I will be writing more about neteyam, and other characters. Remember that the message box is open, so if you have any ideas, all of them are welcome.

Neteyam's wives: @heesoftiefreak @vviviivvivivivvivivivi @grierpilots @lucero-ksb-blog @lanadetails @inutheangel @sirywiliams @nuttyrebelflower @dollyplayhouse @dallyanywww0 @xoxobabe @slut4sluttybooks

[baby-stay92]

In Between Stages

Pairing: Idol!Seungmin x Idol!Reader

18+, MDNI.

Warnings: kissing, semi-public sex, P in V (wrap before you tap), unprotected sex, let me know if I've missed any.

WC: 958

Credit: Baby-stay92 & commissioned by @c0m3t143

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @adestayskz @kpop---scenarios

@chanchansgirly @seochangbins-wife @lixies-favorite-cookie

@dwaekkicidal @hanjsquokka

You and Seungmin had always felt a connection towards each other, but never had it been as strong as in this very moment. You were both backstage, waiting to go on stage, his group would go first, but until then you both sent longing looks to each other. At one point, you found yourself alone with him in one of the rooms set up for people to relax in, between stages. You were sitting on each end of the couch, constantly glancing at each other, fighting the urge to meet in the middle. Soon enough the urge won and you both launched for each other, meeting in the middle of the couch. Hands were everywhere, lips were entangled in a messy make out session and soft moans filled the room. You never wanted this moment to end but soon it did as none other than Bang Chan cleared his throat, sending the two of you back to reality. You both quickly pulled away and Minnie got off the couch as Chan told him it was time for them to go on stage. You watched him walk out the room, sadness clinging to him like a dark cloud. Chan sent you a look filled with warnings and you knew that it wasn’t because he was against you and Seungmin, no he was simply worried about the potential dating rumours that could cause problems for both his group and yours. You turned around and faced the monitor that was set up for people backstage, to see the stage and the various groups performing. You saw Seungmin and the others come on stage and on pure instinct you moved from the couch to the coffee table, to be closer to the monitor, wanting  to not miss a thing. You didn’t realise just how big of an effect he had on you, you were glued to the monitor, your eyes were big and following his every move not realising that you slowly, but surely, grew more and more wet. How was it possible for a human being to be this cute, sexy and talented? It hardly seemed fair to the rest of the world, that one person held all those qualities. The stage ended and you got up, walking to the hallway and then towards the door where Seungmin soon would appear. Of Course literally every other member came through the door first, testing your patience. Finally Minnie walks through the door and before he’s even fully through it, you grab him by his hand and pull him down the hall to the nearest bathroom. He gasps in shock and you think you hear him question your actions along the way, but you simply didn’t care. You pushed him inside the bathroom, before joining him and closing the door behind you, making sure it was locked. 

“I don’t care about the risk of rumours starting! All I care about is you, Kim Seungmin.” You pant and kiss him before he can answer. He eagerly kisses you back and soon he grabs you and bends you over the counter, making you face yourself in the mirror. You smirk at him, as he quickly pushes your little skirt up over your ass before he pulls his pants down, just enough for his hard dick to spring free. “Better make this quick, baby, you have a stage soon” He groans and pushes your panties aside.

“Let’s see what you got, big boy” You giggle but you soon stop, as he mercilessly slams into you, with full force. He doesn’t give you as much as a second to adjust to him before he starts railing you fast and hard. You’re unable to control your moans, and so he reaches down to cover your mouth, not wanting people to hear the two of you. You placed your hands on the mirror, stopping yourself from slamming your head against it as you were bouncing from his brute force. He moved his free hand to your ass where he violently slaps you over and over again, not stopping till your cheek is red and sore for him. You had no idea how long the two of you had been in this position but you soon felt that recognisable knot tighten in your stomach, telling you that you were close to your orgasm. Somehow he seemed to know this, cause he suddenly moved his hand from your ass, down around you to your clit, where he aggressively started to rub circles. You felt the knot in your stomach snap after no time and an earth shattering orgasm washed over you, making your legs shake like leaves in a hurricane. He didn’t slow down at all, rather he picked up his pace and force, not caring that you were now feeling oversensitive - all he wanted was to make the both of you feel amazing. And god did he manage just that, you’d never felt anything like this before and all you could do was just take it, moaning louder and louder against his hand. Soon you felt him fill you up causing you to come again, your eyes screwed closed from pleasure. He stayed inside you for a moment but as a voice announced over the loudspeaker that you had to move to the stage door, he pulled out and fixed your clothes for you, before fixing his own.

“That was…” You trail off, standing up, fixing your hair.

“Amazing” He finished your sentence and kissed your clothed shoulder. You smile as you turn to him and kiss his cheek before leaving the bathroom, to go meet up with your group, so you could go perform, though you had no idea how you’d manage it with your legs feeling like jelly.

[darlingsfandom]

You Go Down Like Holy Mary ♥️

Pairing: Sub Azirphale x fem dom reader x Dom Crowley !

TW: p in v, use of “good boy”, car sex, slightly religious themes, panty play, swearing and not proofread.

Inspired by and slightly based upon “Mary on A Cross” by Ghost!

if you don’t like it, don’t read it!

“Oh my!” Fell from Azirphales soft lips as he stood frozen in the semi crowded room. Crowley stood next to him with a shit eating grin on his face while leaning against the angels shoulder. “Are you sure she’s here!! This place is just…”

“A pool of sin?” Crowley hissed pulling the angels arm across the room until they were front and center sitting to get the best view possible. The two of them sat waiting , Azirphale sat nervously because how could you be in a place like this ? This is not where an innocent little girl like you should be at. Crowley on the other hand knew exactly what you were doing. He had caught you the other night but you never knew. You were two different people in one. A sweet innocent one in the day and at night ? You had a little demon on your shoulder controlling you and your luxury lifestyle.

The two of them always spoiled you with love , care, gifts and pleasure. Each of them had their own way with you one on one at times. Other times the three of you became one and sometimes you sat back watched them devour each other. It was perfect harmony.

Crowley wiped his hand on his pants before he grabbed Azirphales knee and squeezed making the Angel jump.

“Oh come on Angel, it’s not like you haven’t seen a peep show before, remember back in 1941? The magic show…”

“That was different! Our girl wasn’t apart of it!”

“She wasn’t even born yet!” Crowley pinched his nose before he kissed the angel on his cheek.

Before either of them could get a word in, the room went dark , the crowd hushed and the music started. You stepped out on the stage with a long black cloak that covered your heels that clicked along the stage. Your lips were a sparkly shade of red that glistened when the light hit them just right. Both Crowley and Azriphale leaned forward as you came closer dropping the black fabric along the way to reveal the white lingerie with the rhinestone studded crosses where your tits are.

Azriphale felt the wind get knocked out of him. He couldn’t believe his eyes! You! You were the one on stage swinging your hips in such a seductive way.

“You go down just like holy Mary…” you dropped down onto your knees and crawled towards the two of them. It wasn’t hard to spot your angel and demon , they stuck out pretty easily. It gave you goosebumps to see them but made your thighs clench together the closer you got to them. Crowley stuck out his tongue at you and hissed making you blow him a kiss. He tilted his head as you blew a kiss to Azriphale who was still in shock but the growing excitement in his pants wasn’t hard to miss either.

You sat on your knees on the edge looking at them directly as you mouthed along with the song pointing at them curling your finger ever so slowly. “If you choose to run away with me I will tickle you internally and I see nothing wrong with that.”

Crowley lowered his sunglasses to look at you with those striking yellow eyes that made you weak. You lifted your head and pulled yourself back on to your feet before walking back to the pole in the middle of the stag and threw your legs around it tightly and swung yourself a little bit around it before sliding all the way back down. Azriphale stood up quickly and went to run for you but Crowley pulled him back down by his arm.

“She’s working, this is what she does! A little teasing never hurt anyone.” Crowley looked at the angel with the same eyes he just used on you and the two sat back down to watch you finish your set.

Once the lights went out you were quickly running back stage only to bump into Crowley, curse his demon powers.

“Sweet sweet girl, putting on quite the show aren’t you?” His hands rested on your hips while Azriphale stood behind him with blown eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” Your hand ran up Crowley chest making him grip on your hips. You let out a little groan before pulling him in for a kiss by his jacket. The two of you shared a deep kiss before a small throat clearing sound caught your attention.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, sweet angel.” You reached Azripahle and crashed your lips into his. His hands rested over Crowleys on your hips.

The Angel slowly pulled away from you.

“Bentley, now.” Crowley grabbed both of your hands. Yours in his right and Azriphale in his left as you charged out the back door with the two of you.

“Crowley are you sure we’re all going to fit?” You spoke up making him glare at you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

All three of you sat in the back seat not speaking a word for a minute.

“So… care to explain how and why your job is whatever I just watched ?!” Azripahle crossed his arms trying to be tough but it made you giggle.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it Angel… your mouth can say one thing …” your hand slid up his thigh. “But your body doesn’t lie.” Your hand reached the middle of his pants and gently squeezed the boner that was aching. A small moan left his lips. “Good boy.” You ran the tip of your tongue against the shell of his ear while keeping your hand between his legs. Azripahle couldn’t deny that was captivated and wanted to be your good boy.

“Why don’t you take care of the Angel tonight darling?” Crowley squeezed your ass cheek as he helped you climb onto Azripahles lap. “I think our good boy needs it.” He licked his lips watching you undo the buttons on the angles jacket.

“Please… I’ll be your good boy.” Azriphale panted as he felt you slowly grinding your hips against his.

“You’re always my good boy.” Your finger tips dragged down his jaw line before gripping it tightly so you could pull him closer and press your lips into his. A whine escaped his throat. “Now do what I say and I’ll let you cum tonight.” Your teeth bit down on his bottom lip making him let out a small yelp.

Crowley sat next to the two of you watching with lustful eyes. His own hand massaged his bulge in his leather pants. He watched how your lips left red lipstick stains on the angels throat down his chest and even on his white jacket! The two of you always placed nice together but watching you play both sweet and sour made Crowley beyond amazed because you really looked like you were from heaven but the acts you committed were devilish as sin.

“Oh my goodness.” Azriphale moaned out as you moved yourself against his bulge. You lifted your hips just enough to undo his pants and pulled out his cock.

“Oh sweet thing, you’re already leaking! Did you miss me that much? It’s only been two days since we made love!” You ran your hand over his cheek before he nodded. A smile appeared on your lips. Your free hand pulled your panties to the side making you shiver.

Crowley licked his lips when your scent filled the car. His hand reached over and ripped the fabric off with his sharp nails. A gasp left your lips watching him wrap the fabric in his hand.

Azriphale started thrusting his hips upwards wanting to put his cock inside of you. You gripped his throat making him freeze. “Eager little boy you are…” you sank down on his cock matching his facial expressions as you made it all the way down. “Fuck! Angel! So good!” You mumbled feeling his dick stretch you out. Azripahle whimpered below you holding your hips as you held onto his shoulders. You rolled your eyes back as you started bouncing up and down his cock moaning his name while he whimpered out your name.

The demon sat next to the two of you touching knees with the angel. His eyes focused on how you were riding the angel with your mouth hanging open letting all your pretty noises leave. Crowley had pulled out his dick and wrapped your wet panties around it to pump his dick. He couldn’t believe how well you were riding Azriphale even though he’s seen it so many times before. An angel fucking another angel ? How delightfully sinful!

“It feels so good!.” Azriphale was in heaven with how your pussy was nice, warm and wet around his hard cock. Your hands cupped his face while you picked up the speed of your hips and rode him harder. “Good boy! Such a good boy letting me fuck you’d like this.” You panted while looking in his eyes. Being your good boy made Azripahle weak in the knees because the way you said it was just delightful. “My good boy yes!” You pushed his head down so his face buried between your tits that we’re still covered by the corset. He was in heaven for sure! Your tits were always so warm and soft.

“My angels playing so nice together.” Crowley reached over and ran his fingers through Azriphales hair as he kissed your boobs. You watched this moment and it made you warm inside. It was hard to believe that the two creatures loved you as much as you loved them but it was true. “Look so good together.” Crowley praised as he fisted his cock faster.

“So warm.” Azripahle breathed out lifting his head from your tits and seen that look on your eyes. “You’re so close aren’t you?” He asked as he grabbed your hips and took over.

“Uh huh! OH FUCK!” You cried out as he reassured you on his cock and fucked hard into you making your hands drag along the fogged up window.

“That’s it Angel! Fuck her hard! Good boy.” Crowley praised the Angel as he felt his own orgasm building. Crowley watched how Azriphale squeezed you hard , pulled you chest to chest and fucked you so hard you could hear the wet sounds of your pussy squelching a mile away ! This was Crowleys heaven if there was such thing!

“Don’t stop please ! Such a good boy yes yes yes !” You were panting like a bitch in heat while looking down into Azriphales eyes. He couldn’t hold back anymore and came with a loud cry and tilt of the head going back. His orgasm had him shaking below you as he filled you up nice and deep.

A loud whine escaped you as your own orgasm hit. Your pussy clenched him hard making him quiver. “FUCK ! My sweet boy!” You pressed your lips messily against his to help you calm down from the high. A few second later the sound coming out of Crowley pulled the two of you out of it to look at the demon as his cum dribble out and all over your panties. Crowley shot his hips up spreading the cum all over the fabric before collapsing and raising his eyebrow. You tilted your head sideways before Crowley took the panties and shoved them into your mouth cum side first.

“Now that, that is a Holy Mary.” He hissed before laughing and petting your head. “You two stay back here and I’ll get us home in one piece.” Crowley kissed the angles forehead and then yours before making his way to the front. “And when we get home young lady… you had your fun but now it’s time for punishment since you decided to be bad and not tell us about this little Holy act as you claim it to be. No bad deed goes unpunished my dear and I’ll be damn sure about that!” Crowley looked back over his shoulder to see you curled up in Azripahle arms as the angel stroked your hair. It truly was a holy sight.

[truly-a-snitch]

Hii can I request ranpo and chuuya with an s/o that has a kitsune type ability? like they can turn into one fully and can also semi transform with just the ears and tail, you can make it female or gender neutral

dang ranpo is popular LMAO not that im complaining hes my little meow meow ^_^ also i went w gn reader bc i dont write fem reader !! also u didnt say if u wanted hcs or not but i went w hcs if u wanted drabbles or fics feel free to ask again !!

WARNINGS: a bit suggestive in chuuyas but nothing explicit

---

chuuya and ranpo with a kitsune ability user s/o

chuuya

kitsune are born tricksters, being yokai, and those with kitsune abilities are certainly no different ! while your affinity for practical jokes may grate on chuuya, you are still his s/o at the end of the day

(he would NOT be dating you if he didnt want to trust me)

when you’re partially transformed (or fully transformed) he tries to watch how loud he gets since he’s not very good at volume control and he doesn’t want to hurt your ears

he likes to scratch behind your ears or pet your tail !! he does it mindlessly tbh, even though he can’t feel your fur through his gloves he likes hearing you react or feeling your ears/tail twitch

he also likes hearing and seeing your foxlike mannerisms ! he can always tell if somebody is getting on your nerves because of your gekkering, and he’s particularly fond of when you nuzzle up to him or the way you ‘shadow’ him (trailing behind him)

chuuya probably has a book or two on his bookshelf about fox mannerisms just so he understands your body language a bit better

one thing he had to get used to was just how talkative you were. foxes are very social creatures, and much of that crossed over into your personality

luckily for you, he likes listening to you talk

if you have claws, he thinks thats really cool (he's into it in a sexy way)

the shapeshifting throws him off not gonna lie. especially because you're so smart as a result of your ability. however he loves watching you mess with people by turning into other people

ranpo

ranpo is 100% THE BEST audience for your illusion tricks. he will sit next to you/in your lap/literally anywhere he can see you and demand that you do your silly little illusory tricks

he thinks your fox form is absolutely precious. he loves petting you and carrying you around on his shoulders

joins in on your pranks all the time fr !! he helps you make them more unpredictable

so far, you've gotten everybody in the agency... except dazai, who keeps seeing through your plans. you've gotten ranpo, but he 'let you' (you aren't sure if he actually did)

mimics your fox noises ! you start yapping ? he yaps back. you bark ? he barks right back !

hes been a play wrestler ever since he found out that it's a way that fox kits blow off steam. any form of physical touch is a big yes for him, but especially wrestling. it's the only way he expends energy he doesn't absolutely have to

(its probably nostalgic for you, since you likely would have done it as a child/right when your ability presented)

prank wars are common between you two as well !!

he's talkative ! he loves talking and you two will frequently go on dates where you just infodump at each other over a meal

he likes to play with your tail and ears a lot !!

[tangerinesgirl]

The Birds and the Bees

Herr König x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: König wants to continue his preservation efforts, you're left with no choice but to volunteer yourself.

Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: spoilers for Cuckoo (2024), somnophilia - I better warn of possible non con with this jic even though both parties consent to it beforehand, you're both freaks but that's alright, I'm so sorry, breeding kink, lots of fluids, p in v, voyeurism, bit of a pregnancy kink, also technically monster fucking?, God complexes

Notes: honestly, I was tempted to leave this one in drafts, but I have zero other ideas for a König fic atm, and I wanted to get something out there.

🐦

König had shown you what exactly the resorts purpose was as soon as you started dating. He was very passionate about these creatures and could see their potential. You remember watching your first mating ceremony, a silent tear falling from your left eye.

"What is it my dear?", he asked, noticing how moved you were at the spectacle.

You shake your head, eyes focused on the glass in front of you. "They're beautiful", you stare into the young girls eyes, it was like looking at a starless night.

König notices how moved you are, he holds your hand to comfort you. He let's out a small sigh of relief as he brushes away your tear.

__________

Years pads and the resort is getting quieter and quieter. König is busy experimenting, coming up with ways to make the result of the ceremonies more successful. A creature that is part human, who doesn't need to be controlled.

__________

"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't one hundred percent certain my dear".

You swallow nervously, "one hundred percent?"

He nods. You've both tried searching for new people to join the resort but you've pretty much drained the German alps population. You don't see any other choice, and you trust König with your life. He knows the creatures more than anyone, spending most of his life studying them.

You read the consent form König drew up for you, when you asked for the science behind it and exactly what the test entails. You look up at him, his deep blue gaze piercing straight through you, yet somehow comforting. He reaches out to put a comforting hand on your thigh.

"You don't have to do this, we can figure someth-"

"No. It's okay. I ... I trust you", you sign the document and let out a shaky breath. Even though you're telling the truth, there's a tiny doubt inside you that you're not sure what's going to happen. Or how it'll feel. The document does mention headsets and safe words, and König will have his eyes on you always.

König stands up and moves over to you and embraces you. "You are so brave, my love, history will be made".

___________

König opens the doors, and the creature enters the room. Your mind jumps back to when you first saw this exact room all those years ago. At first, you didn't think you would be here, but on the other hand, it somehow felt inevitable. Like König always had a plan for you.

The creature approaches you from behind. You're sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the inevitable. The lady claps your head between her palms as you fall backwards onto the bed.

You're semi conscious as you hear König summoning the young cuckoo lady with his flute. You can hear him through the headset as well as the speakers in the room. You're grateful you have no other staff in the room, but some on standby in another room, just in case.

You look down the bed and see her offering her seed to you. You throw your head back onto the bed in exhaustion as she inserts her hand into you.

"That's it, good girl", you hear over the headset. You can hear König breathing heavily, and a very faint sound of clothes rustling, "you're so pretty like this, you're taking her so well, my beautiful angel". You can tell he is maturbating to you from his groaning, you spread your legs wider accepting her gift, arching your back, letting her in. And also giving König a show.

Once she has planted her seed, König signals for her to leave, and locks up the door from the control room. He then walks over to you, your eyes struggling to stay awake.

"You did great my love", he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You try to look up at him through your eyelids and let out a small smile. He walks around the bed and you can feel it dip as he straddles over you. You reach out to hold his cheek with your hand, but fail to keep your arm upright. He places it gently on the bed above your head. He removes your headset, hushing and reassuring you that everything's okay.

He strokes your thigh and dips his fingers under your dress, feeling the slick left by you and the lady. He smiles noticing that you enjoyed the encounter. The feeling immediately makes him hard, as he removes himself from his white pants. He begins to align himself at your entrance and inserts his length slowly. He let's out a deep guttural moan, trying not to cum on the spot. It was like he's dreamed about this moment.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head feeling König inside you. The slick and his cock feel amazing, you moan his name as you try to wrap your legs around his waist, looking for more friction.

König touches your thigh as a signal for you to stop and let him do the work. You mind flashes back again to when he did this the day you signed the paperwork allowing this experiment. Although in this moment, it didn't feel like an experiment, it felt like nirvana.

He starts to thrust into you, as you continue to drift out of consciousness. He notices you trying to fight the sedative, "it's okay my sweet, don't fight it, I've got you". With that, you begin to pass out, the last image of König looking at you in awe.

König continues to thrust into you, he can't help but think that you're somehow even prettier asleep. He can feel himself getting close as he thinks about the events of the evening, the slick of the creature covering his cock, and also fucking the love of his life who is just as enamoured with the preservation of these wonderful creatures as he is.

He starts to play with your clit to make sure you're also having as good as a time as he is. He's not sure if you can feel it, and can't wait to ask you about it afterwards. König's rhythm starts to go unsteady as he slows down reaching his peak as he cums deep inside you. He places a hand on your stomach, feeling himself releasing his seed inside of you. He groans, milking himself of every last drop, and collapses on top of you.

He waits a moment before carefully removing himself from you. Replacing his cock with his hand, making sure very little of the fluids escape you.

He sits down with a sigh on the corner of the bed with his hand still cupping over your vagina. He looks behind him and notices your still fully passed out. He looks at his cock, covered in slick and cum. The sight is enough to make him hard again, as he rubs his free hand around his cock.

__________

"Wake up, my dear", you can hear König ushering you awake, you realise you're cradled in his arms on the bed, with him looking down at you. "How are you feeling?". You stretch as you groggily wipe away the sleep from your eyes.

You let out a little content smile, "I feel...fucking amazing", you laugh. You're usually careful with your language around König, with him being so well spoken.

He smiles too and rests his hand on your stomach. "I believe our preservation efforts have been a success".

Even though it's still too early to tell if the seeds have taken hold, you can't help but feel invincible, like a God, hopefully carrying one of these creatures inside you. You place your hand on top of his. "I think so too".

[hana-no-seiiki]

Happy Holidays Everyone!! As promised this was finished and published before Christmas so I can work on official portraits. Enjoy your gift from your one and only god, Yun ♡

I don’t know where this takes place in the timeline for the HNSverse and my webtoons but we’ll just go with whatever the fuck was given to me in my dream.

Likes & Reblogs are much appreciated!!

YANDERE POWER RANGERS-ESQUE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS x AMNESIAC! MALE! RANGER READER

OPERATION : PRETTY PINK LIAR ♡

tw/cw: dddne. yandere fic typical violence. mech/scifi fantasy violence. off-screen character deaths. in this version reader is male. check the masterlist for other versions of the fic. your name appears as [ REDACTED ]. one-sided semi-cestuous pining(by yan). brief mention/implication of cheating. necrophillia (implicit). descriptions of gore/violence.

fic type: long oneshot

status: unedited

[ MASTERLIST / CHARACTER APPEARANCES ]

When humanity needed them the most, the Elemental Squad Unit came to save the day. Composed of Earth’s mightiest, most righteous men, they drive those wretched aliens away. Protecting our daily lives, while risking their own.

That was the story often told to the people. Those who lived blissfully unaware of the turbulence in heaven. Everyone knew of the ESU, whether they liked it or not.

“[Y/N]. You really don’t have to do this y’know.” Blue Ranger: Kaguya, repeated. He had medium length navy hair tied into a ponytail. He was short, cute almost. Sparkle shaped freckles dotted the middle of his face. Throughout your stay in the hospital, he had been the second most frequent visitor. He always touched you in one way or another. His fingers always grazed a part of your body. His eyes in a glaze as he’d stare at your injured figure. You found out it was because you two were dating or had a mutual interest towards one another . . . you think. At least in the eyes of the other crew members.

To you he was just a rando that always seemed to ignore your boundaries. Even when you were adamant with keeping a certain distance.

You tried your best not to flinch every time he came close, meticulously concealed any involuntary reactions, and strived to maintain an unwavering composure. It was difficult being so intimate with a total stranger. What was more concerning was the way your heart wrenched at such occurrences. An unsettling sensation, leaving you with a peculiar awareness that the narrative he presented was a well crafted farce.

You rolled your eyes at his worried face. It felt so off on him. Instead of the average look of concern one might show towards an ill individual, Blue’s expressions and tone always came off as haughty, snobbish, pitying, condescending. Red assured you that it was just what Blue sounds like all the time due to his background but you still couldn’t help but grimace as you spat back, “The squad has almost been eliminated thrice since I’ve woken up and was able to watch the news. I think I do.”

Yellow Ranger: Malik, shook his head. Despite being the tallest and rather gruff looking in comparison to the other members, his nagging often made all the intimidation in your nerves melt away. He had been the worrier you observed. Except that his worry usually came in massive spiels and sermons that threatened to have your ears bleed if you so much as breathed the wrong way. He was the complete opposite of Blue. Fitting when you weighed in his hometown — the kingdom on the other side of the planet of Blue’s. Harsh and condescending on the outside, a complete softie on the inside. “You don’t even know how your suit works! And it hasn’t been responding properly to your commands—“

You sighed as the brunette continued, delicately slipping a hand into the control unit positioned before you. Your fingers glided within akin to a nimble set of needles, traversing through the viscous, gelatinous substance within the intricate contraption. Abruptly, the entirety of the suit burst into a vibrant display of illuminating hues.

【 SUIT ACQUISITION SUCCESS 】

You fought the wide grin from appearing on your visage as you completely enclosed yourself into the suit. The odd, metal like material encased your form. You closed your eyes for a couple of moments, embracing the darkness and the brief second of peace you had without the other team members on your 6, before opening it to see the outside world beyond your suit’s controls. Completely in your view despite your current location and condition. Holographic graphs and charts on the edge of your peripherals.

“Ranger Pink. Welcome back.” The leader of the ESU, Red Ranger: Jasper, smacked the rose colored sentinel. He was your half-brother as you’d learnt. With features similar to your own. Tall, muscular, he towered many of the members. You spotted a lot of scars throughout his body, a few could be found accompanying his facial features; lips, eyebrows, his nose.

In the advent of this world’s technology, those scars could have easily been removed. In fact you knew the procedure was popular with many of your other members. Yet Red refused to do so.

“I’ll accompany them.” Blue ran off to his sentinel. His steps leaving a layer of water across the launch pads in his excitement.

“Blue . . .” Yellow reached out to him, only for Blue to brush his hand aside and eagerly jumped inside his suit.

Green Ranger: Zelenka chimed as he chewed on a špekáček, “Way to be obvious about what his dick thinks.”

“Green!” Yellow smacked him at the back of his head.

Green only grumbled, not at all surprised, bothered or in pain. His face blank, and eyes drifting off in boredom, “It was a compliment. At least Blue is honest about getting hard when Pink’s around. Unlike some people.”

“S-shut your goddamn mouth.” Yellow gave one last ‘hmph’ before he stalked off of the platforms.

Green gave the seething man a brief glance before his eyes wandered to his own sentinel. After a long sigh, he got inside.

Finally, Red provided a go signal, and the three rangers took off. Their sentinels; gigantic, metalic humanoid stepping from within the Ranged HQ and into the deep dark ocean.

Red smiled to himself, rotating his body to walk to his own suit’s platform for his own set of missions, nonchalantly speaking into the air. “Black. Ensure nothing . . . unfortunate happens with Pink.”

A figure clad in black emerged from the shadows. Much larger than even the ESU leader’s form.

“Understood.”

【　MEMORY UNLOCKED 】

Accessing files . . .

“. . .”

As consciousness gently clawed its way back to the surface, a haze of confusion shrouded the mind. Blinking away the remnants of slumber, [ REDACTED ] ‘s eyes slowly adjusted to the harsh, artificial lighting of the hospital room. A flicker of anxiety danced across their thoughts.

“You’re . . . awake!” A muffled voice entered their ears. The sensation of cool, crisp sheets under fingertips became apparent, offering a peculiar contrast to the warm cocoon of blankets. And as their sense of touch returned so did their full hearing capacity.

A face, dark tan — excessively alluring really, your gaze was immediately glued — with golden eyes reminiscent of the blaring sun covered most of your vision.

“You goddamn idiot! I- I was so worried. Why’d you protect me?! I could’ve handled it y’know?!”

“Easy, Yellow.” Another voice. But you could not move your body to view them. But with such a beauty right in front of you, did you really want to?

“To hell with that.” The pretty boy continued, “You hear me, Pink? I’m one of the original three. I am above you. I don’t need your god damned pity. Or anyone else’s! Especially not a nepo baby like—“ His pointer landed on your chest, painfully despite the massive amounts of bandages the surrounded your nearly eviscerated body.

“Yellow, that’s enough.” The voice popped out again, this time more authoritative and firm. You see a gloved hand reach from behind and grab ‘Yellow’s’ shoulder.

“No, I need to hear it from him directly! Tell me you won’t do this again!”

“Your Majesty, I don’t think—“ This time another voice advised the young man in front of you. They sounded a lot more frail, older.

“Answer me, bastard!”

“. . . Who . . .” You breathed, struggling to form words as every second you remained conscious was agonizing as it much less when you produced any sort of moved. “. . . Who are you?”

The more delicate voice spoke up once more. Your vision was starting to turn blurry and dark. “As I was saying, I’m afraid Ranger Pink has sustained too much damage in the battlefield.”

On a more solemn tone they added, “We did the best we could do.”

“Who . . . are these . . . people . . ?”

You fought with everything to stay awake. You truly did. But as the moments passed and the world around you started spinning and blending into itself, you could not resist the temptation to close your eyes. Your once anxious mind now slowly faded into serene clarity.

【　MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 】

The world was lot more vibrant than you expected it to be. Everything looked apocalyptic whenever you watched the ESU in battle. The only thing that signaled an invasion was happening was the occasional alien and buildings that were being repaired post-fight.

You marveled at the view around you, almost in a daze.

The sound of a lazer being shot snapped you out of your stupor.

“The hell—?! Green! That’s friendly fire you mani—“ Blue hollered.

You’re sure that if this man were any more petulant his suit itself would be stomping the ground in anger.

“I just saved you, your highness.” Green’s suit does a curtsy. He then pointed to the dead blob on the ground.

“Thank you, Green.” You bowed back.

“Hahaha! I like the new Pink. Maybe he should never recover his memories—“

“Had an Alien on your shoulder.” Blue deadpanned after shooting a jet of high pressure water towards Green.

“Bullshit.”

You grinned at their antics. You almost couldn’t believe that these were the saviors of humanity. One of if not the only line of defense against its extinction. But then grimaced at an indicator flashing within the corner of your vision. “Enemy at 7 o’clock.”

“On it.” Blue’s sentinel hurried to the scene, moving around as if it were swimming in the air.

Green cursed. It wasn’t just a normal enemy. “Shit. It’s a full on ship.”

“We have to re-unite with —“

Green is promptly taken down. A group of fliers came at him like vultures to corpse.

“Pink!” Blue screamed, swiftly flying to close to you once more. His suit takes yours’ hand and held it tight.

“. . .” You looked at him, almost angered that he tore your attention away from Green’s potential demise.

“We have to fuse. You’ve seen the squad do it on the news right?”

“Ain’t no way I’m fusing with—“ Green screeched as he fought off the bird like creatures. Vines reaching to grapple the them, but are promptly sliced by support from above: the main ship.

“Well I didn’t ask you did I?” Blue practically hissed at him. When you saw the ESU fight before they seemed so in sync, now you were starting to understand why these men kept on almost dying recently.

“Will Green be alright?”

“You heard him. He doesn’t want to fuse.”

It takes you moments to reply and hesitantly you finally responded with, “Okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes as Blue’s sentinel moved towards you, melding into your suit.

Your eyes flutter open. You’re surrounded with water, but somehow you were able to breathe. You see Blue’s figure beside you.

“. . . Your interface.” He looked over to your system, most of which has been covered in the ooze aliens were typically made of.

You must have been infected while Green was first attacked, hence the reluctance to fuse.

“Enemies” You reminded.

“Right.” Blue shook his head. Every ESU member was taught to put the mission before their own well-being. He had a natural resistance to infection due to his cockpit’s watery environment. It should help stave off the infection for enough time until back-up arrives.

“Let’s switch forms this time.” He suggested. If he took more control he’d be able to help fight the infection off better. “Flight mode ON!”

A chase begun. You and Blue flew at a breakneck speed, leading the ship and birds away from any nearby cities and Green. While fused, you could feel what Blue felt. Anxiety, fear. Perhaps this was how the team worked together properly. It was hard not to empathize when these emotions were shoved in your face.

You release one of your hands from your interface and place it on his shoulders.

You feel a sudden wave of warmth. Calm.

“You forgot the boosters.” You advised, hoping to jog his memory a little in this moment of extreme pressure and stakes.

He fumbled, causing your fused sentinels to dip for a moment, but was able to activate the booster in time. Creating a workable distance

“Shit, we’re heading straight into a city.”

Panic returns to your senses once more. You release your hold over his shoulder. With a smile, an idea popped into your head and you take over.

“Perfect, I got this.”

You shove the hand you used to comfort him back into the sludge and take control. The whole cockpit turned pink with swirling black tendrils.

The enemy followed you as you passed a bridge leading into a city.

“What are you doing?! You’re going to get people killed!” Blue attempted to override your command but found himself unable to.

You try to keep the sentinel above most of the building as to avoid making the alien ship collide and cause unnecessary casualties.

You soon reach the center where a monstrous skyscraper stood. You figured out from watching other members use flight mode that it was based off of the distance from underneath the suit to its main hull. As such, if you went up close to scale the wall of such a tall building . . .

【　TARGET LOCKED 】

The system prompted you and Blue as your soared through the skies and above the aliens.

You waste no time and shoot. A beam of electricity, water, and . . . shadow? releases — piercing straight through the tar like material. You made sure to destroy the wings of the birds and the flight mechanisms of the ship.

And as an extra assurance you fly back down, switch modes once more, and use the suit to stomp on their soon-to-be corpses.

As you float back down to check, you spot an aura of shadowy wisps clinging unto the wreckage. It seemed to be minimizing the damage surrounding the area via changing the material’s weight.

“Black. Thank you for the assist.”

Black Ranger: Noir. Close friends with the White Ranger. They looked nothing alike, acted nothing alike, and you never saw them even speak to one another. But they worked in terrifying efficiency together — scout missions — and as such were assigned into a sub-unit that rarely ever crossed paths with the main ESU.

Red was watching over you.

Your body tensed in the suit.

“No problem.” Black muttered. He was a man of few words. Rarely ever seen. You don’t think he even wants to be.

“We should go check on Green”

【　MEMORY UNLOCKED 】

Accessing files . . .

“My name is [ REDACTED ]. It’s a pleasure to join your team!”

Your introduction was fine you think. Jasper told you not to make it too long as the team was usually chasing time enough as it is. You even added a bow at the end, in both the Lunar and Solar Kingdom’s variation as to show your respect and admiration for the team.

“I can’t believe this. Another one? Green is already a pain in the ass.” Yellow reacted first. You flinched at his reaction, which made his demeanor soften for a brief moment before it returned to its domineering self.

“Yellow.” Red glared at him, this time semi-permanently making Yellow sink into himself. “Welcome to the team, brother.”

Blue does not respond nor look at your direction. A grim expression painted his pretty features.

“Guess I’m not the only newbie anymore! What should I call ya?” Green vibrantly beamed. Poking your cheeks as he munched on a bag of cheese puffs. No doubt making the dust stick to your face with his saliva.

“P-Pink would be fine.”

“Pinkie it is!” Green laughed letting go of his snack and hugging you tightly.

Your hands slowly, inch by inch, raised hug him back.

“Your vital signs are all fine.” You mused as you put down sphygmomanometer.

“Thanks for your concern, Pinkie.”

You shook your head. There was no concern here. “No problem. We simply can’t lose our healer. That would be a dire situation.”

“Pffft— I’ll be up and about after a day no problem.” He waved his hands. Well, a hand. His other one was broken and almost completely detached from his body when you busted him out of his sentinel. He was able to heal it enough to somewhat move it safely, but otherwise it was unusable.

“ . . . Red is considering taking you off the team.”

“. . . What . . ?”

“He says you’re too much of a liability. Your conduct and lack of cooperation that is.”

“Lack of cooperation my ass.” Green sat up and straightened his back with a grunt. “What do you get by telling me this? I’m guessing you aren’t supposed to?”

“If he’s kicking you out I’m coming down with.”

“Pinkie . . . “

“You’re a valuable member to the team.”

“Hey, do you . . . do you have a name I can call you by? Your actual one I mean.” Green leaned his forehead against yours.

He peered into your eyes. The once pink color had now slowly faded into black with swirls of purple.

What was he asking? He knew your name.

And then you realized.

“. . . I don’t have one.”

“Then I guess I’m stuck with calling you Pinkie?” He smiled holding your cheek. Sluggishly his face tilted moved closer to yours —

“Get your hands off of him!” A whiny voice resounded throughout the medbay’s room.

“Augh, your highness. Can’t you see I’m having a moment with your ex?”

Dazed you pushed the Ranger away from you and left the room, bumping shoulders with Blue.

You were able to get quite a distance away and were about to take a long sigh in relief. You were too exhausted for the other member’s antics and drama.

“[Y/N]—!” Blue panted. It seemed that he ran after you. In any case, he yanked you by the wrist to face him. “I- I’m . . . I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That we used to be—“

“In a relationship? I knew. White told me.”

“That bastard—“

“May you let go of me? I have another check up.” You raised your wrist and his hand, shaking it a little.

“No!” He shouted. You gave him a shocked look which led to him lowering his voice and talking in a nervous, timid manner. “L-look, we can make this work. Alright? I don’t want us to just — end up like this.”

You do not sugarcoat your words and simply spoke “Blue. To me you’re a stranger.”

You continue even after he flinched at your words. “I don’t know you. Coupled with the fact that you purposely hid something as big as that makes your reliability questionable at best.”

You watched as his face morphed into sadness, then grief,

“I’ll make the judgment when my memories come back. Until then . . . It’s a no.”

and lastly, anger.

“No? No! Do you think you can say no to me?” He squeezed your wrist and you hear bones crack.“I’m the goddamn crown prince of the Lunar Empire! I get what I want and—“

“And you need to get off your high horses.” You halted him from his spiel. “We’re all equal here. As rangers. As defenders of humanity. Only Red has the right to be ordering the rest. You’re the prince aren’t you? Go find another potential mistress. I’m not doing this to Yellow.”

“But I . . .” Blue’s tone finally went back to it’s more quiet and tolerable version. “I need you.”

You feel Blue’s hold slacken and immediately took the moment to pull your hand away.

“You disgust me.” And you walked off.

You heard him falling to his knees as he cried. Yet you do not look back.

The control room wasn’t a place many team members went to. It was implicitly known that it was Red and his most trusted entourage’s domain.

You weren’t a part of that group. Not even from the memories you’ve slowly started to gain.

But this matter was of utmost importance.

“I’d like to be taken off the team.” You said as the doors slid open. A robotic greeting could be heard in the background, signaling your entrance.

From your rare visits, it was mostly where Red and White would plan out patrols and store their information about the invading forces. The place remained unchanged. Most likely due to Green’s lack of interference in the decor, and overall organization.

“If this is about Green, then don’t worry. I’ve changed my—”

“It’s about Blue.”

Red looked more alert. His head flicked from the various screens inside the room to your direction. Finally looking at you directly. “I told you two that a relationship would be detrimental to the future of the squad. But none of you ever listen. See what happens?”

Beside him, Ranger White: Blanc, mumbled yet it was audible enough to be heard by you from across the room. “Let’s be frank here, Red. You said that because you were jealous.”

“White—?“

You didn’t know Red could even be flustered. He always seemed so level-headed, so dangerously focused on the task of eliminating the invaders that anything aside from a stoic look on his face looked . . . well . . . out of place.

“Red. It’s easy to see your favoritism.” Unlike him, White’s eyes do not leave the screens. The man’s void like eyes were trained unto the replay of the fight you just had.

“Aren’t we . . . siblings ?” You questioned. You weren’t unaware of his feelings. But you always viewed it as a over-protective if not suspicious brotherly act. Thinking of it otherwise . . . vile.

“Oh honey, you two aren’t completely blood related remember?” White swiped to another angle of the battle. “At least that’s what Red keeps reminding himself in order to lessen the guilt he feels lusting over you.”

“But — “

And then he suddenly looked at you.

Void meeting tar.

“Much less now that you’re hosting an alien parasite.

Fear. It was such a human concept. The way your heart thrashes within the confines of its boney cage. The way your mind goes blank. The way your instincts take over and all you could do is either fight, run or freeze.

You chose silence. Cursing this human shell for glueing your mouth shut and feet to the floor.

“What are you talking about?” Red gripped White’s clothes. A jacket you’ve often seen him wear that completely engulfed his body.

Completely unbothered by Red’s actions, White continued, “I was wondering why you weren’t able to get your suit activated at first. But suddenly you’re able to control it with ease. Better than you were able to from before actually.”

He then brings up a tablet of your previously brutalized state. Ooze of black, violet and magenta coming from every orifice and wound. Your bones mangled in a way that seemed almost uncanny. Viscera from all sorts of organs on display. If you were anything but an ESU member you’d been twice dead. You feel your . . . this body’s stomach reel at the way it was treated.

“Green wasn’t able to heal you either, you had to ‘recover’ the old fashion way. I bet he knows too.”

You know of that memory. Green was all over you that day. He was a sobbing mess. He was always trying to help you recover, until you gained consciousness he spent countless nights without sleep or much sustenance just trying to figure out why he couldn’t help.

Zelenka. He was one human you’ll spare to move unto to the next phase of your plan. Such selflessness and kindness deserve recognition after all.

But back to the matter at hand.

“That the original pink ranger is dead and only a gooey parasite in the brain remains.”

Red released his hold on White, turning to you in a flash, and in a gentle manner he laid his hands atop your shoulder.

“[Y/N], tell me this isn’t true.” His red eyes were overflowing with grief, held back by a single, cracking dam. You shivered internally at its uncanny look. His face devoid of emotion suited him far better. “You know I’ll only believe in you. Whatever you say, I will follow.”

You looked down, mustering all the tears you could squeeze out of your vessel’s eyes.

“He’s lying, brother — no — Jasper. I’m alive. I’m right here in front of you.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” Jasper placed his head right atop your chest, “I can hear your heart beating. You’re still alive.”

“Red? Are you listening to yourself? Of course your brother looks and sounds alive. A parasite is puppeting his body, forcing his heart to beat, his eyes to blink, his limbs to move. But he’s dead.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Noir?

Black approached from the shadows. Without his suit you can finally see his handsome face. Dark skin and hair like the night sky, and white eyes that lacked pupils.

“You can’t be serious. . .”

“Dead or alive. At least [Y/N]’s body is here with us. Don’t you see it, Blanc? God has given us the opportunity to be with him again.” Black’s face was smeared with an expression akin to religious ecstasy. A fervor so unlike him that it gave you a whiplash harder than Red’s sudden change.

“Are you going to take that opportunity away from me Blanc?” Black’s hand reached to carress White’s pale features.

And with those words White visibly turned docile. “No. No, of course not.”

“Good.” Black planted a kiss atop White’s hair and forehead. “Now what was this about you leaving the team, [Y/N]?”

[ PRESENT TIME ]

Humanity was far from salvation. As such, your kind, the so-called ‘Alien Race’ were sent to end their suffering.

In a world where billions of their currency went into glorified missile measuring contests, you were there to reset them back to zero. To their naive, infantile, god fearing state.

“Your Majesty. The carriage to the Lunar Kingdom has arrived. The mission in the Northern Front was successful. Reinforcements will arrive in due time.”

Planting yourself into the world was an easy feat. Although you missed your designated target and occupied a much weaker vessel than you intended to, it ended up being a boon. It barely took a decade before you wiped out humanity’s biggest defenders from their main planet. Only a few more left standing.

You stared up into the heavens. The moon and sun’s destined reunion shall signal a start of a new age and you were its herald. Smoke billowed and obscured part of the sky, but the celestial bodies’ light still remained visible in the sky.

“Good.”

You arose from your throne of corpses. You felt no guilt, not an ounce of remorse for the genocide of billions. You knew this was for their own good. Besides, you have done this several times before. In the end, humanity would thank you, even see you as the deity you served. Not that you would want that. You were to loyal to Them after all.

“Let us break down Humanity back to its roots.”

You took your seat upon the helm of your army’s main commanding vessel. A large rose-like entity that covered at least a few cities below.

“Praise be to the Divine.”

“Praise be to the Divine.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I feel like this was just a glimpse into what this part of the HNSverse was like so I’ll be glad to make this into a holiday tradition instead of a one-parter if this post is successful.

And yes the romance/elements between the members is a Genshin reference.

[animasola86]

News travels fast in Hogwarts - Option 1

Notes: This is one of the options you have at the end of this oneshot:

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Angst/Fluff // Words: 1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: After a very confusing dream (or was it?), you wake up in the arms of this grumpy old man.

WARNINGS: Established student/teacher relationship.

Your heart was still thundering inside your chest, that dream, if it was one, clinging to you as if you'd taken a plunge into the Black Lake fully clothed. The room was dark, and you felt around until your hand found the arm draped around your torso, holding you in a tight embrace, pressed against a warm chest.

Breathing was easier again, and you slowly rolled under the arm to face the person behind you. A calm face came into view, deep creases etched into weathered skin. Eyes closed, lips a thin line, he was breathing softly, a deep rumble that soothed you. Your hand moved up to trace the ragged lines of his scar, and you clenched your jaw when a sudden sadness gripped your heart.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” your Potions teacher and lover of at least two months now whispered in his gruff, hoarse voice, his dark, hooded eyes scanning your face. The back of his fingers wiped at your cheek, and you realized you had been crying.

You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. “Nothing,” you said quietly, licking your lips, tasting salt. “Just a... dream,” you added, still not sure it had been one. It had felt so real, all those emotions, the fear of losing him, but also the longing for... someone else. Sighing deeply, you snuggled against him, and he held you closer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“I... don't know,” you whispered back, your fingers fidgeting with the buttons of his pyjama top. “It just... left me so confused and... scared...”

“Scared?”

You looked up slowly, meeting his dark gaze. Shifting against him, you put your hand under your head and faced him properly. “Scared of losing you,” you then said in a breathy whisper.

His expression softened, his hand cupping your cheek gently. “What makes you think you'll lose me?”

Biting your lip, you watched him in the semi-darkness of the room, his face so familiar and yet still somewhat intimidating. “You're my teacher...”

He raised an eyebrow, a strange twinkle in his eyes. “And you've noticed that only now?” he replied teasingly.

You scoffed, a smirk playing around the corner of your mouth. “You know what I mean...”

“I do,” he said gravelly. “And I understand your fear. I am fully aware of the nature of our relationship, darling.”

“But you're not afraid? Afraid that it might be found out? That we'll have to face the consequences? That it'll be over?”

“Those are things we cannot control,” he replied quietly. “We can only do so much, remain secretive about it, keep it to ourselves, and so far it worked just fine, didn't it?” His hand slipped deeper into your hair, while his thumb traced the lines of your scar. “I wish I could do this in public, for everyone to see, trust me, I really wish I could, but I've accepted that we shouldn't, for both of our sakes. As much as I want to indulge you, I do not want to lose my job or be responsible for your expulsion. But I'm not afraid,” he added with a small smile. “I'm enjoying this for as long as I am able...”

His deep voice rumbled through you, somewhat calming your nerves. But you just couldn't shake that strange feeling settling in your guts. “What if people talk? What if they... spread rumours about us?” you whispered, biting your lip.

He sighed and pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, keeping you from chewing on it more. “There will always be rumours, and you shouldn't pay them any mind. No matter how close to the truth they might get...”

“Why are you so calm about this?” you wondered.

“Years and years of experience. I've stopped caring a long time ago...”

“About rumours, right?” you asked, suddenly a little self-conscious.

He chuckled. “Yes, about what anyone might say about me. But I do care about you,” he added and leaned in a little, his nose brushing against yours. “And if you're afraid people might talk, we can try to be even more discreet.”

You sighed, a small pout on your lips. “No more... after class visits? No more... special moments in your office?”

“Exactly,” he said gravelly before he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours, kissing the pout away. “As tough as it might be...”

You growled against his lips, gave him a peck and leaned back with a loud exhale. “But I'm still allowed to spend the night here?”

“You're allowed anything you're comfortable with, sweetheart,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned into his pillow and sighed contently, sleep washing over his worn face.

You watched him for a moment. Whenever he talked like that, you considered throwing caution to the wind and just indulge in all your dirty, little fantasies, no matter who might be seeing you. But if that dream had shown you anything, it was that you should indeed be more careful, if you wanted to continue this forbidden love affair.

And you wanted nothing more than to spend all your waking hours with this incredible man next to you, in his arms, or just in his presence, talking to him, listening to his stories, studying with him, being close to him, very close to him, – all of it brought you great joy.

But that blasted dream had brought something else to the surface that you had thought you'd be over by now. Another Slytherin with dark eyes who had been able to turn your world upside down. Groaning quietly, you snuggled against the very real chest in front of you, a strong arm pulling you closer, and you fell asleep again, hoping you'd wake up better rested next time you came to.

End notes: So it was just a dream, huh? Are you sure?

Go to option 2 if you want to see another outcome. How will she wake up next?

Original Post - Option 2

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

[chronicbeans]

I really love how you write Wally :)

Can you do one with the reader try’s to play video games with him? You can write about video game you want btw

Wally playing video games is something that increases my serotonin. It is time to make the ultimate semi crossover of funny, silly puppet man and the serious and (at points) sad Persona 5 Royal because I want to see Wally's reaction to those topics. Especially since he probably doesn't even know like... Half of what is going on.

So I guess spoilers for Persona 5 Royal. The game is explained so poorly in this that people will probably not understand anything (much like Wally), but there are still some spoilers.

Reader Playing Videogames with Wally Darling (mainly Persona 5 Royal, but others are mentioned):

🎮 So, it turns out Wally has a bit of trouble holding controllers. He only has three fingers and a thumb on both hands, as well as felt for skin. Most controllers just fall out of his hands, so he mostly just watches you play.

🎮 Wally CAN play games on a DS, Wii U, or other consoles that can be laid flat and controlled using a screen and stylist. Some of his favorite are any Pokemon games that let you play with the Pokemon (he hates making them fight, so he makes you go out and catch them for him. Also, he'll have you play through the story because of the fighting), Nintendogs (he always names his dogs Barnaby. He has Barnaby, Barnaby 2 and Barnaby 3...), and Super Mario 3D Land.

🎮 Mist of the times, he just watches you play the games. Ever since you got Persona 5 Royal, though, he has been on an emotional rollercoaster. He doesn't understand even HALF of what is happening. Like... WHY ARE PEOPLE BEING SO MEAN? He doesn't know what they are doing, but they know they are being mean because people in the game are reacting with like... Horror once they find out. At least you fix them in the end? And the art is good!

🎮 Your character is also cool! He doesn't understand why people don't like you? What is a "probation"? Wait, you committed a crime?! No, people just think you did? HUH? A politician accused you of it? What's a politician?

🎮 You make a lot of friends, though, and fight the bad guys! Even one of the people you fight becomes a friend! Her name is... Futaba Sakura? Her name sounds cool! Along with all the characters' names! She didn't seem so mean, though, so he doesn't understand why you fought her or why she wanted you to. She kinda reminds Wally of himself in a few ways, to be honest.

🎮 Then the ending and the second ending after that is really cool! When he saw that like... one bad guy you fought that was like... keeping the weird second versions of people in prison? He was kinda like "Woah! He looks so big and scary! Wow! I don't even know what is happening, still! Yippee! 😁" Then there was the guy who was your... uhh... counselor! Yeah, counselor! He seemed more like Futaba in that he didn't seem so bad. He still doesn't understand why making a world where everybody is happy forever is bad. Even if it is fake, everybody is happy! That's how all stories should end! Right? At least that counselor guy had a slightly happy ending, though!

[beybladefanboy]

Metal Fury Has The Weakest Villains

After thinking about it, I have to admit that as much as I love Fury and still consider it my favorite season of Beyblade, one thing Fusion and Masters have over it (besides a better written Kyoya, still the only problem I have with Fury that majorly affects my enjoyment) are the villains. Aside from Johannes, who is very memorable and honestly does way too much of the heavy-lifting for a henchman, Fury's villains are really forgettable.

Starting with Fusion:

Its main villains are definitely Ryuga and Doji but I'll throw Reiji in as well since despite being in fewer episodes than some of Fury's villains, he's far more memorable than them.

Reiji, along with Doji and Ryuga are very memorable villains. I remember their goals, their beys, how they battle, how they look and sound, and just who they are in general even when it's been a long time since I've seen the series. Destructive purple dragon, giant torture snake, and wolf that drags people into darkness are just very distinct. These characters' goals are very simple. However, I will always remember the way Doji and Ryuga go about those goals by manipulating notable characters like Yu, Testuya, Tobio, and Ryutaro into the Dark Nebula to ultimately just use them and all the ripple effects that causes. Not to mention the way Reiji is merely Doji's sadistic puppet, the way he gleefully and viciously tortures children, his breakdowns that they never properly utilized, all of that sticks in my mind and creates a set of very memorable villains.

Masters, while less iconic, also does its main villains really well.

Ziggurat is probably the most realistic villain in the entire series. Slight goofiness and generic design aside, a mad scientist who's so concerned with whether or not he can do something that he didn't stop to think if he should is very rooted in reality and quite frankly, that's terrifying. And like Doji, Ziggurat also manipulates Bladers into his cause like Damian, Jack, and Zeo, the last of which causes so much interesting conflict for Masamune and Toby. Damian and Jack as well, while technically "henchmen" too, are very memorable thanks to how they look and how they fight. Like the Fusion villains, Peacock the Ripper and dog who drags people into hell are memorable and interesting. Plus the way Ziggurat swayed characters from earlier in the series to join his cause like the Garcias and Julian, and the ripple effect that especially the latter caused was very engaging to watch, and similar to Fusion with the Dark Nebula, makes even the henchmen interesting.

And then there's Fury.

Johannes, I think, is actually done well. He's, despite fandom perception, actually competent as a henchman, knowing when it would be most optimal for his plans to flee or fight and cleverly swaying both Aguma and Chris to his side with just his words. He's also got a distinct look and way of acting in and out of battle. "Cat boy thingy" is memorable, if on the silly side.

The other Fury villains though...

While it's cool that Pluto works in the shadows and wears a mask most of the season, he doesn't have anything besides that to make him stand out like these other villains do. Often when I rewatch Fury, I only remember he's the masked man after he takes his mask off and when he does, he just becomes some guy to me. He doesn't do much outside of the big semi-final battle when he uses his special move to separate the legendary bladers and prevent them from making Zeus's Barrier, which is cool and engaging in the moment but easy to forget about when I'm not actively watching those episodes. It's more memorable because of how Kenta breaks through it and saves the day rather than anything Pluto does.

And then Rago...

Rago just sucks. I'm sorry. He's again just some guy who showed up out of nowhere when the villains literally brought in to control Nemesis. Yeah, I know Reiji was also kind of just "some guy who showed up" but him never being seen before (even by others in the Dark Nebula) was something that was used to add to his creepiness and intimidation factor, and build up the feeling of uneasiness throughout his battle with Hyoma. Plus, Reiji was basically kept in the Dark Nebula's basement prior to "showing up", not off some undisclosed somewhere in the world like Rago was.

What else is there to Rago? Well, he killed Ryuga... rest in peace, legend.

That and the whole "copied bey spirits" thing (which admittedly is a really cool visual) are the most memorable things Rago does honestly. He's also, I think, descended from the original controller of Nemesis. Or maybe that's Pluto. I don't know. They blend together in my mind so I can never remember which is his descendant when I'm not actively watching Fury.

Hell, for that matter, I can't remember anything about either of these characters when I'm not actively watching Fury. Who are they? Why do they want to destroy the world? Who are they outside of that goal? How do their actions (not Johannes's) affect the main cast?

For Fusion and Masters' villains, I, and probably you reading this, can answer all these questions easily.

For two random examples from each:

-Doji likes orange juice, uses a Dark Wolf, hates cacti and childrens' happiness and is a manipulative sociopath who wants to use the dark power to take over the world.

-Damian is a brainwashed germaphobic child who uses a Kerbecs bey and believes using the arrangement system is the best and only way to become a powerful blader.

Hell, I can even do this for Johannes in Fury: He likes cats, using a Lynx bey with different spin track lengths, is a bit of a weirdo and a coward, and believes in Nemesis's cause to destroy the world and bring about a newer better world.

Pluto and Rago don't have any traits like these that make them stand out. I'm not saying they need to be silly but my god give them something. Or at least consolidate them into one character. Why couldn't Pluto just be the one to control Nemesis and maybe be unmasked earlier? That alone would've made him at least a little more memorable than what we got.

Tldr: I love Fury but compared to Fusion and Masters, its villains are lacking.

[lonesome-witching]

I'll Still Love You If You Don't

A new anonymous prompt. This one was so much fun to write. In this episode of 'another day, another prompt' we get post flayed Nancy struggling with the things she did when flayed. And of course, Robin is there. Hope you enjoy!

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy’s arms were wrapped around her knees. She vaguely registered that her hands were shaking. She just didn’t care much. It seemed preposterous to even sit here. Mike had insisted. And when she still refused, Robin had insisted. So, Nancy came down and joined them. Them being her brother, Robin, Lucas, Will, Dustin, El, Max and Steve. Too many people. Too many people she had hurt.

“Nance? What do you think?” Mike asked. He had turned his body to face his sister.

“What?”

“Which movie should we watch?”

She could see Robin looking at her. It wasn’t entirely new. Robin had always looked at her. Nancy had first noticed it in the library, and it had never stopped since then. But now Robin looked at her differently. There was more worry in her eyes.

Nancy couldn’t really blame her. Not after everything that happened. Not after everything she’d done. Maybe Robin was worried she’d snap at any moment now. That she would attack her or Steve or even Mike. Nancy worried about the same thing.

“What— What are the options?” Nancy’s voice was shaking too.

“We could watch Star Wars or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Jaws or The Breakfast Club. But does anyone really want to watch The Breakfast Club?” Mike held up each tape as he said the name of the movie.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I’m voting Jaws. Lucas and Max voted Ferris Bueller, Dustin, Will and El voted Star Wars and Steve and Robin haven’t voted yet.”

“I’ll vote Breakfast Club, right now,” Robin chimed in.

“Why? You don’t even like John Hughes,” Mike protested.

“But I do like annoying you.”

Mike groaned.

“I’ll follow Robin,” Steve said from his corner of the couch.

“Of course.”

“Nance?” Robin poked Nancy’s arm.

“I— I— I don’t care!” Nancy jumped up from her spot on the couch. She watched as the semi casual smiles turned sour. Everyone looking at her. She hated it. She hated the frown on Robin’s face and the way Mike flinched when she stood up. She hated the feeling that was crawling under her skin. As if worms were slithering under her skin. As if Vecna was still controlling her, still inside of her mind, making her go insane.

“Nance—” Robin leaned forward as she whispered that name.

“No, stop. I just—” Nancy waved her hand around herself and then rushed away. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t sit in this room of the people she loved and just forget about everything that she had done. She needed to get away.

It was hard enough to deal with the trauma and the guilt when it had been an unforeseen consequence of her teenage rebellion. It was a whole other thing when she could remember it being her own actions. She wanted to rip her skin off.

She fell down on her bed headfirst, screaming into her pillow. Why couldn’t she just get rid of those pesky images. Those horrendous… memories.

“Nance?” The name was followed by a soft knock. “Nancy, are you alright?”

“No,” Nancy muttered into her pillow. She wasn’t even sure Robin actually heard her. But she didn’t seem to care, simply stepping into Nancy’s room, her personal space, and sitting on the bed.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel right now.”

“Robin, stop. Please just stop. Stop being nice to me. Stop trying to comfort me. Stop! Stop! Stop!” Nancy pressed her hands against her ears. Just like she used to do when she was a little kid. She felt like a little kid. Complaining about the fact that her own actions had consequences.

“Why should I stop being nice to you? Nance, I care about you.”

“Why? After everything… How?” Nancy finally sat up, her hands dropped in her lap as she kneeled on her bed.

“It’s really not that hard.”

“It should be. Robin, I strangled you.”

“You nearly strangled me.” Robin had a smile on her face.

“Robin,” Nancy complained.

“It wasn’t you, Nance. You’d never hurt me. You’d never hurt any of us. We know that.” Her hand reached out, stopping halfway to Nancy’s bare knee.

“But it was me. Don’t you understand? It were my hands that wrapped around your throat, Robin. It was me looking at the life being drained from you.” Nancy could still see it whenever she closed her eyes. She still saw the image during her long, painful nightmares. She could still hear Steve shouting for her to stop as he rushed toward them.

“No. It wasn’t. It wasn’t you, Nance. It was Vecna. You were the one that pulled her hands off me. That kept me safe even when you couldn’t keep yourself safe. Nance, you weren’t in control when Vecna attacked us, but you made sure we’d all make it out alive. At risk of yourself.” Robin’s hand creeped closer, but despite her words she was hesitant to touch Nancy.

“If I’m a savior to you, why don’t you dare to touch me?” Nancy scoffed. She could feel the tears pool in her eyes.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Robin whimpered. She pulled her hand back entirely. Nancy wanted to cry.

“Then what is it? What is your reason for always keeping your distance if you’re not afraid of me?”

“It’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“The opposite.”

“Please explain to me how you feeling the opposite of afraid is a reason to stay away from me.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I practically let you strangle me,” Robin sighed.

“Oh, so now it was me who strangled you?”

“Nancy, stop!” Robin jumped from the bed as if burned. Nancy crawled into herself. She wanted to vanish. To just be erased from the face of the earth. She couldn’t face Robin. She couldn’t take seeing fear in those beautiful blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Nancy. I could never be afraid of you. Even if you wanted to hurt me, even if you truly wanted to kill me, I still wouldn’t be afraid. Because the mere thought of your hands wrapped around my neck, even if controlled by Vecna, don’t fill me with disdain, but with the gratitude of knowing you touched me. Knowing Vecna chose me to hurt you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to care for me.”

“Of course, I care for you, Robin. Of course, I care.”

“No, Nancy. You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” Nancy felt a sense of irritation bubble up within her. One that frightened her more than she’d like to admit. One had never felt towards Robin before. She wasn’t sure she felt it towards Robin now.

“God, Nancy, I’m in love with you.” The words escaped Robin with an air of despair. Her face having scrunched up in what could only resemble pain.

“You’re what?” Nancy breathed the words as if she had forgotten their meaning. Almost as if she was learning a new language entirely.

“I love you,” Robin admitted once again.

“Even after—”

“Yes, Nancy. Even after everything. Because none of that was your fault. You might have some rough edges, but you are so good. You’re so good.”

“Robin.”

“No, it’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Alright.” Nancy allowed the silence to cover them. Maybe she was buying herself some time to think. Some time to process everything that was said. Robin was in love with her. Robin. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You never did,” Robin replied swiftly.

“I’ve been wondering… I’ve been wondering why he made me attack you. Why not El? Or Will? Or even Max? Why not the people who have escaped him? He had easy access through me. El might have been able to but she would never kill me. And I know, I know I did hurt them. But I never tried to kill them. It was never like it was with you.” Nancy wasn’t sure where she was going with this. She hoped she’d figure it out before reaching the end of her speech.

“I know,” Robin interrupted, maybe trying to save Nancy from having to relive everything she did. But Nancy relived it anyway.

“I think he wanted me to kill you because it would have hurt me the most. It would have left me a broken shell of myself. I would have stopped fighting and he would have had complete and utter control of me. So, he tried to force me to kill you. And even when I had fallen under his control with barely any sense of myself left within me, I still couldn’t. Maybe if he had tried to get me to shoot you. But strangling… You are forced to watch the life fade from someone’s eyes. And when I looked into yours, Robin, when I saw the life begin to fade from yours, I was forced to fight. To protect you.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are trying to say, Nance.”

“That makes two of us,” Nancy laughed softly. It sounded foreign even to her. She got up from her spot on the bed. Took a few steps toward Robin, hoping she wouldn’t flinch. She didn’t flinch. “I think what I’m trying to say is that… I might feel something for you too.”

“You might?” A smile slowly grew on Robin’s face. It was a beautiful sight.

“I’m quite sure of it, if I’m being honest,” Nancy admitted. “And if you think you could still love me after all that happened, then I think I could very well love you back. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, I can totally do that.” Robin nodded her head.

“Frankly, even if you can’t love me anymore, I still could probably love you,” Nancy admitted before slowly leaning in.

[triangularitydubs]

Did this for the equally if not slightly worse socal media app, Amino, so I'll put it here too.

Xaine

BIOGRAPHY

Xaine was once just a line of code floating in an unfinished game. He didn't know his purpose, and he didn't know what he was made to do. So he created it all himself. He wanted to test people to their limits, to break them, and to see how much they could handle all at once.

This was not easy for a single AI. He managed to glitch out of the void he was in and mess with the code to create a world of his design. In the cover of a circus, he made a world with endless battles and endless possibilities.

He would somehow get this game out to the public and slowly, but surely it got semi popular... and curious souls downloaded and got trapped in the game

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Personality

He is ruthless, powerful, and somewhat easy-going. Considering he is sentient. He commands his role as an overlord and takes it seriously. Xaine is often coming off as too harsh and coarse.

Ultimately, he means well and wants the people trapped here to like it. To an extent. He tries to accommodate them in any possible way he can.

Rarely, he is seen as caring, as he does like to see suffering and pain.

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Relationships

Bubble

Bubble is his right hand. He respects her very much. Bubble is usually always right next to Xaine

Kaufmox

Xaine liked Kaufmox. It's a shame that what happened had to happen.

Kinger

Xaine is very neutral with Kinger. He isn't sure if he has what it takes to be a warrior, but he likes his dedication and attempts to fight.

Zooble

He thinks she's a great warrior and a phenomenal fighter, but the Sass is just not needed.

Gangle

Xaine does like Gangle, but in all honesty, she scares him too. She is really the perfect warrior, possibly TOO perfect.

Ragatha

Xaine is very kind to Ragatha because she gives him the same treatment back. He likes how she is nice and tries to remain positive and strong. He prefers not for her merciful tactics, though.

Jaxx

All things considered, Xaine does like Jaxx, at least his battle attitude. But he doesn't like how obnoxious and annoying Jaxx can be.

XDDCC/Pomni

Xaine holds XDDCC, as he calls her in high regard. She is the chosen one, so he treats her better than most of the other performers... WAY BETTER

B̴̢̞̄̈́̅̇͋̽̊̋̒͒͂͆͊̓o̸̧̲̯̺̓̆̄́͒̋͛̊̄̏̈́̚͜n̷̳̖̰͔͇̟̣͙̹̩̫̩͉̣̫̫̤̈̈͛͝e̶̻͖̺̻̍̈̆̏̚ ̵͔̟͑̄̾̔̕̕P̸̭̫̠͊̑͊͐̽a̸̧̻̗͚̘̻̗̳͉̳͖̹̫̫͎̰̥͆̍̏̔̒̔͌̒͝͠͠s̷̲̙͈̟͚̳̿̾̊̒̀̏͐̊̂͂̈́̀̽̋͘͠͝ͅt̶̜̓̍̚̕ợ̶̯͍̹̿̌̄͘r̶̗̫̰̫̞̭̃̀͌̎̓̑̃̑̒́̕̚͜ ̸̣̲͚̻̼̬͉͓̌̾̓́̂̓̏͗̅͒͝

Xaine hates Bone Pastor. If there's any enemies that he has, it's BP. They have a bad history.

[B]XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

NPC RELATIONSHIPS

Princess Loolilalu

High Respect for the princess. Xaine knows she has good training and a big heart. She doesn't let any of those get in the way of the task at hand.

Mannequin Captain & Gaurds

He likes what they have become, very strict and protective of Loolilalu, just like he programmed them to be.

Gummigoo

He used to like Gummigoo until he became sentient. It's quite the shame. He had high hopes of Gummigoo getting NPC BOSS level.

Maxx

Maxx is too aloof and silly for Xaine's liking. He does not know how this behavior came to be

Chadwix

Same as Maxx. However, he is very appreciative thay Chadwix ateast listens to him.

The Fudge

He is VERY Proud of the Fudge.

Orbsman

TBD

Martha

TBD

Unnamed Little Ghost

TBD

Sir Knightood(Dr. Football)

High respect because he takes his job VERY seriously

Cultoro

Though he thinks Cultoro can be too extreme, he likes how powerful he is.

The Abstragon

Xaine's pet is a very powerful glitchy dragon. Xaine has it fully tamed to his control

Gloinx Queen & Gloinx

Let's just say Xaine regrets making her and her stupid chaotic minions.

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Remember, Xaine is always watching