#stress relief embroidery

[nettlesandvines]

A piece, I like to call "Anxiety"

Yarn, embroidery floss, felt, jasper beading stones.

ETSY | INSTAGRAM | FACEBOOK | KO-FI

[astheforcewillsit]

thinking of the Jedi's self sufficiency , and specifically about how they sew their own clothes. And I have ideas floating in my head of Anakin using Padme's dress patterns to sew something for Sister, or during the war Obi-Wan making clothes for Cody when he's on shore leave.

Quinlan sewing fox toys for Fox.

Ahsoka's dresses making more sense as she gets older because she made them herself. And as ridiculous as it was, a tube top & skirt was the easiest combo a 14 year old could make.

(In a happier world, thinking about the Jedi teaching their clones how to sew after the war, because while the clones can sew it wasn't for aesthetic purposes. Just for survival. The Kaminoans never really taught them how.

And when the clones are eventually do make their own money, and are granted their rights, refusing gifts from the Jedi when they can and actually buying their work. Because it's good fucking work.)

Imagining hours where the Jedi will sit in silence and just sew and embroidery their work. Sew together, alone.

Sew blankets, sew clothes, sew dolls, sew every and anything. Embroidery when they're done.

Teach sewing as stress relief. Teach their troopers sewing as stress relief. Do it themselves.

And years after the Fall of the Jedi, their embroidery and clothing being put in museums, respected. years of handmade and handsewn art and clothing displayed for all to see.

"Jedi Cloak by Jedi Master Shaak-Ti" "Obi-Wan Kenobi's thimble" "Stuffed Animal for a youngling by Yoda" "Mace Windu's portable sewing kit" "Gift to a trooper by Plo Koon"

etc, things that make me sad

[redcoralpot]

Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader

Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.

Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.

A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.

Word Count: 1.8K

-

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Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.

The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink. 

“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”

Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”

“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”

A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.” 

She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”

You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice. 

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”

As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”

Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.

“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.

You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”

“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”

“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”

Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.

You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”

“Like you?”

“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”

He paused, “Ah.”

“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”

Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”

…

“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.

He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right. 

Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.

Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.

Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss. 

You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”

“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.

His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color. 

Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”

Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.

The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.

You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?

In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”

Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.

“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”

For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.

You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”

“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”

“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate. 

The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.

Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.

When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare. 

-

Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas

[bokettochild]

Random Legend Headcanons that haunt my brain at stupid hours <3

He has a big sweet tooth, but less so for sugary things and mostly more for fruits

greatest seemingly "irrational" fear is dogs, he has never liked them even since childhood, and the only dog he can stand is the old sheepdog his grandparent's kept to keep track of the goats

Sky is his favorite. Sky is real with him and doesn't dismiss him as an asshole = automatic favorite. They also share a lot in common

he and Sky like gossiping when no one is paying attention to them. Not about the other heroes necessarily, they just both find it fun

oral stims: he likes his hands free, but chewing/sucking on things helps him focus better and stay calm. He refuses to admit how many times he's found himself chewing on his medallions

he loves puzzles. You'd think he'd gotten enough of them in his adventures, but nope! Hes been doing this long enough that going WITHOUT puzzles to solve actually makes him feel bored. He likes the challenge of it, it keeps his brain ticking

history nerd. A lot of Hyrule's culture/history/tradition was lost because the people were just trying to survive after Ganon killed the hero, so Legend really likes trying to hunt down the pieces of the past to put together what it was like. It's a big puzzle for him, and he loves talking about it if he feels he'll actually be listened too

he knits. He doesn't know many patterns, but he knows some basic stitches and the repetition calms him down

good at most needlework, sucks at embroidery. He likes it, it's just too stressful for him. He's in awe of the fact that Sky's so good at it.

he actually loves the sea I know most writers have him scared of it, but he's got far more happy memories than bad ones, so while it's bittersweet, he still enjoys being near the water (as log as it's not storming)

hates lightning storms with a passion. Storms in general make his arthritis worse, but the lightning trauma sucks a lot more

actually enjoys light rain showers. it still effects his pain levels, but not super bad, and it's worth it to him

has the most un-attractive laugh ever. He tends to snort and cackle like a madman. He does have a "polite laugh" but it's far less genuine.

he CAN cook, he just doesn't care to. Food is an annoying requirement and necessity for him most of the time, and more of a chore than he's willing to admit

he has the biggest soft spot for kids, partially because of Gully, partially by nature

the most susceptible to Baby Therapy (the effect of feeling at peace, content, happy, or relief while holding a small child) Ulli figured this out early on and now abuses it.

he loves stargazing. Stars are a constant no matter where he goes and they're like old friends (got this from the manga)

he's an artist and a perfectionist, his preferred medium is paints, but he does carry a sketchbook

loves physical contact, but is hesitant about others boundaries, so he rarely initiates or maintains it

I have more, but yeah, this is getting pretty long :')

[nausikaaa]

2024 Roundup

hello! it's that hazy period between christmas and new years, so i didn't even know what day it was until i got tagged for SSS by @that-disabled-princess. i don't have anything to share presently, but Rose, @run-for-chamo-miles @forabeatofadrum and @confused-bi-queer also tagged me for a writing roundup, so here i am!

i wrote 8 fics in 2024, and as i looked through them i realised i wrote literally all of them for events or as gifts. i also worked a lot on an original wip, and started another! however this still leaves the months pretty spotty, so i decided to add in some other achievements hehe.

this is long, but i added photos!

January

i started writing a fantasy novel i have been rotating in my brain for literally years, featuring beloved OCs i've also had for years. it got to 7k words by the end of the month. however i was also attacked by a new novel idea.

books read: Percy Jackson- The Chalice Of The Gods by Rick Riordan, Atalanta by Jennifer Saint, All The Violet Tiaras by Jean Menzies.

February

this is the month where i really knuckled down and got to grinding on my greek myth retelling. i sat in a wetherspoons for an entire day, edited everything i had so far, and wrote until i finished part 2 of 7 (the parts aren't equal lengths) i ended up with 37k words.

books read: The House With The Golden Door by Elodie Harper, Emperor Of Rome by Mary Beard, American Hippo by Sarah Gailey.

March

no writing in March, but i did visit Whitby for my birthday and help with lambing. i also saw Natalie Haynes talk about her newest book in York.

books read: Dragged Up Proppa by Pip Fallow, Helen Of Troy by Bettany Hughes, The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes, Divine Might by Natalie Haynes.

April

i wrote two fics for @carry-on-sapphic-week!

Spitfire- In the morning, someone will come to collect me, and I will have to leave Niamh, and Simon, Baz, Penelope, Shepard. The friends I have made, and the love I have forged. Back on dry land. How am I supposed to return to the life I had led before, how am I supposed to agree to some other arranged marriage, to another man I have never met, who cares nothing for me? How am I supposed to give up the pistol I have kept close for over a month and pick up my embroidery again? 1.9k words.

Rosebud Girl- I never thought it would be an art class that finished me off. I had hoped it would be a bit of stress relief, a creative outlet sorely needed between my real classes. It’s at a community centre on campus, a short walk from my morning law class. I should have just stuck to football, and said fuck creativity. We’ve moved on from fruit to figures, and the table in the centre of the room has been replaced by a model. A nude model. A nude Simone Snow, my first year roommate. 2.7k words.

books read: The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman, The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman, The Last Devil To Die by Richard Osman, Great Goddesses by Nikita Gill.

May

my goat Juno had her kids, Olive and Jem, but decided she didn't like them very much, so i became their second mother, topping them up with milk. this was a sleepless, stressful month, so i didn't write very much.

books read: Caligula by Simon Turney, In The Shadow Of Vesuvius by Daisy Dunn.

June

my OC wip got to 14k words! and that's about it. i didn't even manage to go to pride this year. i mostly just continued to bottle feed the goats.

books read: Protest- Britain On The March by Mirrorpix Photo Archive, A History Of The Roman Empire In 21 Women by Emma Southon.

July

i wrote two fics for @carryon-disability-week!

comfortable coats, calico cats, and collapsible canes- Simon plans a spontaneous date, but Baz is worried his bad leg will put a damper on things. Luckily, Simon has come prepared. 2.4k words.

a fist amidst the hands- Simon can wield a sword, but not a pen. Baz thinks he's figured out why, and wants to help. Simon just wants to sleep. 2.5k words.

books read: A Short History Of The World According To Sheep by Sally Coulthard, Facing Down The Furies- Suicide, The Ancient Greeks, And Me by Edith Hall.

August

i wrote a fic as a friend's birthday present. i also visited Edinburgh for the fringe, saw the best production of Antigone in my life, and visited the art gallery while i was there.

A Day In Epirus- Pyrrhus is running late. Hermione has a way of distracting him, when today of all days she should really know better. Not that he can hold it against her, when he was so enthusiastic himself. But it’s Molossus’s fourth birthday, and he has a full itinerary to cross off. 2.3k words.

books read: Roman Mysteries- The Thieves Of Ostia by Caroline Lawrence, Roman Woman by Lindsay Allason Jones, From A Rock To A Hard Place- Memories Of The 1984/85 Miners' Strike by Beverley Trounce, Dynasty- The Rise And Fall Of The House Of Caesar by Tom Holland.

September

no writing except for chipping away at my original works. my trojan war retelling hit 60k words!

we also got a new puppy, her name is Suzie. she's mad as a box of frogs.

books read: We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, Percy Jackson- The Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan.

October

again, just writing my original stuff. it was my nephew's first birthday though! not really my achievement, but still. we went pumpkin picking to celebrate.

i also saw Terry Deary and Edith Hall give talks at Durham Book Festival, and Terry Deary answered my question!

books read: A History Of Britain In Ten Enemies by Terry Deary, Alcestis by Katharine Beutner.

November

i wrote a sequel to my previous year's fic for @carryonthroughtheages! honestly, shoulder to shoulder is probably my favourite fic to have written, and this was a close second.

give them hope, give them strength, give them life- A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. 7.9k words.

books read: Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, The Sheep's Tale by John Lewis Stempel.

December

my OC wip stands at 15k words.

my trojan war retelling stands at 65k words!! my goal for the end of the year was 69k, because that sounds funnier and less daunting than 70k, but there are only two days left. let's see if i can manage it, 2k a day?

i got to see my friends for christmas, we met in Manchester. all of us simply making it through this year is the achievement i'm proudest of.

i also wrote a fic for a secret santa exchange in a classics discord server i'm in, it was a lot of fun!

sweet music playing in the dark- Penelope and Odysseus, throughout the years, together or apart. 3.8k words.

books read: Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan.

this has been so fun, it's nice to reflect! i tag @cutestkilla @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @ninemagicks @otherworldsivelivedin @meanjeansjeans @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @carryonmylovelies and anyone else who wants to do this! sorry if i hit anyone who has already done so.

[clippetty]

i love you (i'm sorry)

astarion x half-drow!male!bard! tav

sum. altair has a panic attack in the underdark (being an ex-slave does that to you) and astarion is the one who keeps him together. he also has some conflicting feelings on his relationship with altair.

an. first altair piece i ever wrote, all of it will be posted here but if you want to find the rest of it its posted on ao3 under the user grapesplease. i love writing for my tav and will be writing much more :)

wc. 2.1k

The silence was deafening.

Astarion knew that something was wrong with Altair, he’d be a horrible partner(?) otherwise. Gods, he’d be an idiot to not notice, whatever was going on with him was obvious to the whole party.

Shadowheart sends him a glare, “Say something to him!” She mouths.

He glares back, mouthing, “What?”

She groans, and Astarion huffs out an exasperated sigh. What would he even say to him? There wasn’t any doubt that he was close to Altair, that was made clear after their first rendezvous at the tiefling’s party, and with how the party expressed their annoyance at them, he knew that they knew too. He still wasn’t even sure that their relationship was anything more than the flirty banter and the occasional late-night tryst.

“I think we should set up camp.” Lae’zel, surprisingly, was the first to speak, breaking what felt like hours-long silence, “I think everyone can agree that a night’s rest is needed.”

Altair’s eyes scanned the area, and he acquiesced, only giving a nod and a quiet, “Alright then..” to the rest of the group.

The elf can’t help but worry, as much as he hates to admit it. Everyone is, as he’d wormed (no pun intended) his way into everyone’s hearts. Astarion doesn’t know if he should go and talk to him, and he doesn’t have the opportunity to. As Lae’zel is, again, the first to speak up.

“Altair.” She stands in front of his tent, Altair flinching as he turns to face her, “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awfully alert, is there something wrong with this place? Or is there something wrong with you?”

Astarion cringes at the face Altair makes when Lae’zel asks if there’s something wrong with him.

“It’s nothing. Lae’zel, I’m just feeling a little off being here."

Astarion scoffs, a little off? As if he wasn’t making the “I’m going to murder someone” face for like three hours straight.

“Underdark doesn’t exactly bring back fond memories, you know, with the whole forced servitude thing..”

She only sighs, grumbling but taking that as a satisfactory answer. “Just don’t let it endanger us, istik.”

Altair lets out a sigh of relief as she walks off, and his gaze flits over to Astarion, realizing he was watching the whole thing. He lets out an exasperated groan, and motions for Astarion to come over. He shuts his book, plastering a flirty smirk on his face and sauntering over.

“So, is there ‘something wrong with you’, dear?” He jokes, mimicking the cadence of Lae’zel’s voice, “You have been awfully on edge, darling.”

“That obvious?”

“Very.”

He groans, sinking down to the ground, his face buried in his hands. “Fuuuck. Gods, I’m stressed.”

“That much is clear.” Astarion retorts, moving to sit down next to him. “Good to know that it’s stress, I couldn't tell if you were wanting to kill me or needed a drink.”

“I go for either right now, to be honest.” He jokes, looking up at Astarion, “I found something here, Astarion.”

He doesn't like the tone that Altair takes, it sends an uncomfortable jolt up his spine. He follows him into his tent, spotting an journal atop Altair’s makeshift desk. The journal's a pretty little thing, its gold embroidery shimmering against the light of Altair's lamp.

“Oh, is it cursed? Is this one for Gale or for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the embroidery. He would've appreciated the work more, if not for how grave Altair sounded.

“It might as well be.” He grabs the journal, flipping through its pages. “I haven't been all too honest with my background, Astarion. I don't think I can hide it anymore, either.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow, “So you're telling me that you aren't just a bard from Baldur’s Gate? What a surprise!”

“I’m being serious, Astarion!” He snaps, flipping to the most recent page of the journal. Astarion tenses up, frowning at him.

“The writer of this journal, she's out to fucking kill me! She found me back then, when I was in Baldur’s Gate, she- she found where I lived, and she's found me here too! Gods-”

His hands grip tightly at the edges of the journal, his breathing getting ragged and uneven. Astarion softly places his hands on his shoulders, trying to ground him.

“Breathe, darling.” He hasn't had much experience calming people, but he hopes that this is working. This is a new side to Altair, one that he’d hid well up until this point. “She's not here, we're safe, and even if she finds us, we can take her, I’m sure of it.”

“No! No, that's how she gets you!” Altair chokes out, looking up at him with fearful eyes. “She pretends, she acts all nice, getting you to trust her- then she tears it all away! Everything! She's already done it once to me, and now she's going to do it again! She’s going to torture you- and everyone here, and she's going to make me watch.”

A sob falls from his throat, his tears leave dark splotches on his pants, “And she's going to do it because she owns me- and- fuck, she’s going to find out I care about you! She’s going to make me fucking miserable, going to make me beg and grovel under the heel of her boot for forgiveness, and then she’s going to kill me.”

What?

..He cares for him?

What a mistake, he thinks, a stupid mistake, putting faith into someone like him.

But this is exactly what he wanted, right? To have Altair, the poor sod, the easiest target, his victim, care for him enough to protect him. To be willing to fight and inevitably die to Cazador or the Absolute for him.

It was the same stupid charade, one he’d done for 200 hundred years.

He forces those thoughts back down, looking Altair in the eye. This- This he could deal with later, his newfound guilt wasn't what was important here. The sobbing mess in front of him was, the sobbing mess that foolishly cares about him was what was important right now.

“Listen, she isn't here. I’m not going to die, I promise. She would've been here ages ago if she wanted to kill me.” He forces back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat as he comforts him, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world, “We’re safe, dear.”

Altair only sharply inhales, shaking his head, his long hair falling over his face.

“No- no, she's here, I can feel it, I know. She's fucking hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike!”

“Look at me.” Astarion brushes away the hair from his face, his voice lowering to a whisper. “We're okay, I’m safe, everyone’s safe, I’m not dying today. No one is going to die. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I- I..” Altair tries to steady his breathing, despite how his heart thumps wildly in his chest. “You promise?”

Astarion tries to hide his guilt.

“Yes love, I’m not going anywhere.”

Altair heaves out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears. Gods above, this was all too much for him, too many of his feelings laid bare for a man who he wasn't even sure really loved him. His true feelings had been unceremoniously spilled, his heart exposed for Astarion to see.

He wasn't a bard who told beautiful tales of romance or adventure, nor a gladiator who fought valiantly for his own freedom. He wasn't any of those fucking things. But gods! He wishes he was! He wishes he had the strength he pretends to have in front of everyone, but now Astarion knows.

He knows that he’s just a scared man, constantly running and hiding from everything that scared him. He knows that he cries like a child, forever terrified of his past.

Altair isn’t someone who confronts his past, he hides like a coward, running away to the far corners of the world thinking that he can hide. He wants to love Astarion, wants to care, he wants to do all of that without the looming fear that it’d be taken from him.

That his past would eventually catch up to him and it’d all disappear.

“Astarion, I..” His face is flush with embarrassment, head hanging in shame, he feels like he could die on the spot, “I’m sorry, for all of this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He calmly replies, “I think we’ve all been stressed, and it's not like you haven't seen me panic every once and a while.”

Altair snorts, letting out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, last time you did, you ended up killing a man.”

“He deserved it!” Astarion retorts, gasping dramatically.

“Sure, sure..” He wipes at his eyes, but realizes that Astarion is already moving to exit his tent. Was he just going to leave, now that Altair had calmed down? No, he couldn't be alone yet.

He tugs at Astarion’s sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.

The man turns and tilts his head, giving Altair a sultry smirk, “What? You just got your breath back, and now you want me to take it away again? Darling, if you wanted to sleep with me, this is a cute way to ask~”

“No! No, I just want-” He groans, refusing to meet Astarion’s amused gaze, “I wanted you to stay.”

“That’s what I’m offering?”

“Not like that!” His head snaps up to look at him, seeing a brief flash of surprise from the elf, “I don't want to be alone, not yet.”

“Not yet” Astarion feels a pang of familiarity, Altair sounded like he was resigned to being lonely forever, like Astarion himself would be temporary and he’d never talk to him again after this night.

He hates how he can relate so much to that feeling. It only worsens the pit of guilt in his stomach. He wishes he could just leave, but he knows he can’t.

He can scarcely believe that Altair just wanted him to just- be there? To what, cuddle in his bedroll and fall asleep together? He hasn’t done that in centuries, nevertheless with someone else.

“So you just want me to…” he makes a vague hand motion, “to just be here?”

“If you want.” Altair sputters out, a nervous panic seeping into his voice, “I just- I don't want to be alone, I still feel like she's there, and I'm- I’m scared, Astarion.”

It takes a great deal of effort to admit this to him, and Altair feels so vulnerable. Fuck, he's so, so scared, scared of Astarion saying no, scared that the moment he takes his eyes off of him that he's going to disappear, and that the next time he sees him, all that's left is a mangled corpse.

He’s scared that the man he’s starting to love is going to disappear, and leave him all alone with his feelings for him.

“I’ll.. of course I’ll stay, if you're scared. I did promise, after all.”

Altair shakily laughs, glad that Astarion didn't reject him. Moving to his bedroll, he motions for Astarion to join him, and he obliges, laying down beside him.

“Can we cuddle?”

“You don't have to ask, darling.”

“I know.” The drow turns on his side, burying his face in Astarion’s neck.

“Sappy.”

Astarion’s fingers thread through his white locks, messing with the long strands. It really was sweet of him, and he comes to the dreadful realization that Altair is slowly becoming more to him than just protection.

He wants to ask more about Altair’s past, who was this woman he was so afraid of? Was she really so strong that she’d kill the whole party in one fell swoop? Is she someone who’d torture him, for the sole fact that Altair cares about him?

Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that.

He's still a bit in denial about it, the fact that Altair cares for him, and that he might also care for him back. But he knows that he would never do this much for anyone else, gods, cuddling in the night? Sharing gentle touches while patching each other up and longing glances between battles? He knows that Altair is so much more than just protection.

He knows that he has to reveal his true intentions to him, but whatever confession he has dies on his tongue. The half-drow is sound asleep in his arms, softly snoring into his chest. His heartbeat calm as he buries himself further into the fabric of his shirt.

Astarion knows that he has to confess his real intentions to Altair eventually, but it could wait a little longer. He could wait a little longer to reveal how horrible of a person he was, how he was no different from Altair’s tormentor.

“Good night, love.”

It could wait.

[blue-cat-ter-flies-blog]

Self-indulgent head-canon but as I'm frequently making mistakes on my first sweater (since I'm not using an established/published pattern and I wanted one with a Totoro belly that I can't seem to find online), I think Satoru should have some sort of fiber art as a hobby. Knitting/crochet as default but something like it should allow Satoru to realise that it's okay if it doesn't go to plan or the end result is a fucking mess. Or maybe just an artsy hobby in general.

Basically the JJK version of this Naruto fic.

This would probably be more suited for a No Curses!AU but Satoru should be allowed to have a (more or less) stress-free hobby that has no serious stakes to it. He does shit because he wants to and if it ends up with something beautiful or delicious then he should have it.

If we're going to make this an entire thing then he becomes internet famous for his photos of his beautiful work that he occasionally sells or donates, depending on his moods. No one knows that it's Satoru who makes these things because, to him, this is a stress relief hobby and he wants to separate it from his usual day job (teacher).

And it stays that way until Sukuna sees a photo of the suit vest that Satoru made on a whim with a more traditional Japanese print/embroidery and immediately decided he wanted more clothes made by Satoru and only by Satoru.

Cue a personal man hunt that somehow ended up with Sukuna eventually gaining a tailor/spouse and Satoru an occasional muse/model/spouse.

[samfosho]

I hate to do this, but not asking for help is how I ended up with tens of thousands in medical debt to begin with and I'm getting desperate.

So, hi. I'm Sam. I'm a queer, autistic & ADHD living with mountains of medical debt that has accrued after working a decade at a job I believed in for just pennies, with nothing to show for it but burnout and depression. (Yes, I know there are charities that buy medical debt. I did not know about them before I took advice from An Adult That I Trusted and Thought Was Smart years ago now, who said just put it on a credit card. I have learned and suffered for that mistake)

Fortunately, I've got a good job now. Unfortunately, that doesn't solve all my problems overnight. Currently, I have about $36 to my name, which isn't even mine if you think about it (see: debt), and I don't get paid for a week. I'm working on the Big Shit, but there are two things I really need help with:

Immediate: I have a car payment coming out today for $156 that I can't cover

Less Immediate, but still looming: I NEED to have my wisdom teeth out. I've put them off for a long time, and I'm currently dealing with a lot of pain as I wait for the appointment next month. Insurance came back with them covering half, but that still leaves $1400 out of pocket.

I thought I had everything budgeted a little better this month, and all I had to worry about was the upcoming wisdom teeth appointment. I had a small car issue (tires needed replaced) and I forgot my rent went up this month and not next.

This is a huge ask, and I know we're all struggling, so I'm not asking for that full amount.

That dental appointment is the soonest I can get in, at the least expensive office that takes my insurance, so moving to a different doc isn't an option. They DO offer payment plans, however they only offer 6 months, and the full amount is too much of a monthly payment for me to make and still pay rent/make car payments/feed my cats.

If I can make that first payment on the day as big as I can, and cut the monthly payments, that would be an immense relief.

SO, my goal is $600, if at all possible, in the long run, so I don't lose everything

But my immediate, PLEASE if you can, so I don't lose my car or miss rent or get hit with overdraft fees that will just hit me even harder goal is:

$200

This would get my car payment and a little extra to get as many cheap, non perishable groceries as I can so I don't have to worry about what I'll eating the next few months.

If possible, literally anything is a huge help and amazing. If not possible, a little boost would be amazing.

If you would like to receive an actual, physical thing—like, say, a cussy piece of embroidery—you can go buy something from my Etsy store. Stock is limited, cuz I have been working enough that I haven't had time to make a lot of things or get new supplies, but I have some stupid mushroom earrings I can add to the shop, too, when I get a moment, and some stone jewelry that I made and have been meaning to sell for YEARS.

I also have a comic that I haven't updated in forever, because of the aforementioned busyness, burnout and stress. So I will draw you a little robot or something if you donate if you want

Here is a pic of my cats, they would also appreciate eating

Thanks for taking the time to read, I greatly appreciate that, too 💚

I put my links under the cut, so they're not just out there in case this post travels past my need of it

Venmo @ SamFoShoBro

cashapp $SamFoShoBro

Message for paypal. I have it, I just don't like using it.

[yellowcry]

Madrigal Grandkids and cooking headcanons.

Isabela

Isn't allowed in kitchen.

Seriously, she will start a fire.

You can give her only ice and she'll still start a fire

Constantly tries to cook everything she sees. Everything that you can't eat.

Frying rocks and fabrics just because she can.

Dolores

Isn't really interested in cooking.

At least is able to make a basic meal without causing the end of a world

Secretly has enough knowledge to cook good because of her hearing. But she doesn't enjoy it

Also heavy dislikes the sound of boiling water or sizzling oil. Tries to avoid being near it. Never comes into the kitchen if someone is at the oven

Side note: If she's here, there's a good chance Isabela is around. They come in complect

Luisa

Didn't have cooking skills pre-movie, who has time for it?

Learns cooking. It comes with... difficulty

Has broken several plates, bows and other things after getting into the moment.

Gets relief from stress while cooking, and doesn't really try to make a food, she's more into the process

Make Sire Isabela doesn't try to annoy her.

Camilo

Much to everyone's surprise, an actually decent cook. When he isn't stupid/chaotic. Comes with taking care of kids.

If you managed to eat his food, you're lucky. He probably eats 90% during the process

Probably the best out of grandkids. Again, if he's not chaotic in the moment. Which is rare.

You probably need to steal food from the kids he babysits to try it. Or be a kid he babysits

Mirabel

Another good cook. Learnt from helping her mother

Will put on the most closed apron so her embroidery won't get dirty. Then complains because it's too hot.

If it wasn't for self-esteem issues, she would try to put cheese in everything she makes

Constantly washes her hands.

Side note: If she's here, Luisa will definitely join. If Luisa's here, Isabela has 50% to come and become a gremlin

[nostalgic-sunflowers]

My Scene Headcanons - Chelsea (Part 1)

In honor of the rereleases for the My Scene dolls, and as a means of fun and stress relief, I've decided to write in-depth headcanons for the original trio- Chelsea, Madison, and Barbie. For context, when I got sick last month, I decided to delve right into everything related to My Scene and it was a lot of fun, I love the vibe of those webisodes and I wanted more. I haven't gotten around to watching the Spanish language exclusive ones yet, but when I have time I will sit down and do so and maybe add more info to these later.

So here are some headcanons for Chelsea based on the webisodes, and the additional diary content that existed on the website back in the day (and is available on the wiki page now).

Age: 23

I'm going to put the My Scene crowd in their early twenties. Yes, I know a bunch of canon content labels them as teenagers and even puts them in school, but come on. They went clubbing for god's sake. I'm going to pretend that any mention of them being in school is actually college.

I don't know, maybe when I'm really bored I can try to fix this into an extended timeline showing the "real" chronological order of the webisodes, for now, just run with it.

Also, I feel like the people in this friend group would be of different ages due to possibly taking gap year(s), working, being rich socialites, etc.

Personality:

The webisodes and her journal don't really give me much to work with so I'm going to speculate/stretch for the most part.

While all the girls are very flirty in the webisodes, she's absolutely the most flirty and just outwardly confident when it comes to guys. She knows what she deserves and will call you out for bad behavior. A real girl's girl, she will stand up for herself and for you as well (she knows that women have to stick together).

She's very extroverted and friendly, she'll talk to anyone really. That's how she knows a bunch of people, seemingly almost everyone

She's not one to be cliquey or exclude people for the heck of it

A huge fan of couture, she pays attention not just to the New York runways but also to smaller indie brands, and other up-and-coming designers like herself in the New York scene. (She meets many people at the weekly flea market where she canonically sells her creations).

She can get really hyper-focused when it comes to her creative work and often can go hours into her projects be it sewing, drawing, painting on embellishments, doing embroidery, leather work with handbags, or any number of things. This is how she's able to randomly alter her clothes on the subway without it being an issue

Her diary basically states that she also carries around a huge sketchbook with all sorts of ideas (and maybe even fabric scraps? I'm calling it) with her constantly.

Her Relationship with Hudson, Friendships with Barbie and Madison:

She went to high school with Barbie, Madison, and Hudson

This is my attempt at consolidating canon (there's one episode where Hudson's being a jerk to Madison and then he gets shoved in a locker. No one said it had to be chronological)

Let's steal one thing and only one thing from Masquerade Madness and say that she struggled with geometry and math in general, but was really into humanities stuff (Especially english and history) a lot. She was into Bio too, but hated organic chemistry

She was considering becoming a teacher at one point

loved dissecting different stories, she loves being able to tell different stories and also writes a lot of poetry and random short stories but is too shy to show them to anyone

Barbie and Madison had a longer history/friendship, but instantly hit it off with Chelsea when the three attended the same high school

Chelsea doesn't hesitate to compliment people on their outfits (even with complete strangers on the train) so that's how she first started talking to Madison, and then Barbie, who even in high school had fits that were on point.

Chelsea's style wasn't quite as y2k my bling bling chic yet, but she was introduced to that because of Barbie and Madison's influence

But also, she was already into it even if she didn't dress like that herself with a love of music icons like Cher and Diana Ross

Her style really focused more on being sort of an amalgamation of more casual dresswear from the 1970s and late 60s as well as the 90s. Basically, I see her being inspired by both Selena and Jane Birkin at the same time

She and Hudson dated on and off during this time, but broke it off after they both wanted to attend senior prom with other people and have been more like bros than romantic partners since.

He's like the annoying brother of the friend group who occasionally tags along with the trio basically.

I don't really ship her and Husdon, and to be honest, Masquerade Madness didn't help with this. It's just not interesting to me for a relationship. More on Chelsea's romantic life later.

Family:

Delancy and Chelsea are second cousins.

They seem distant enough in relation that of course they'd be weirded out by their moms trying to set up a hang-out for them when they're adults

But their moms would have to be close enough to think it was a good idea, so I'm calling it, their moms are the ones who are related. (Not their dads). They were first cousins who were close friends, and wanted to see their daughters also have that type of friendship.

This makes sense to me.

Delancy is Irish-Italian according to the wiki, so I thought that their moms had Italian heritage.

When I was a kid, I always thought that Chelsea was Latina, since she had the same name as a childhood friend of mine (and even sort of looked like her)

So I honestly think it fits for her to be Puerto Rican on her dad's side.

You're allowed to imagine her as just a brunette/red-headed/auburn girl from a number of different places, this is just what's in my head from the vague descriptions that are provided to us

Compared to the rest of the friend group, Chelsea grew up upper-middle class. So still very comfortable financially, but her family wouldn't spend like crazy or purposefully flaunt their wealth (which is why she's jealous of Delancy's family being able to afford a lot of things like a quick move to New York or a whole mansion in Jammin in Jamaica)

She's always been obsessed with high fashion and with couture - stuff her parents would never let her buy

So she saved up money for a sewing machine and got down to business- she learned how to from her Nonna, who also taught her some basics for drawing and painting and even bought her

(Chelsea learned a lot of other things like embroidery and leather work through her other connections in the smaller indie fashion scene, and also through taking various classes)

Love Life:

The webisodes always hone in on this for the girls, so how could I leave it out?

At the moment, she's single but happy with where she's at. Very much Cher, "A man is like a dessert, absolutely not a necessity"

However, Chelsea doesn't miss the opportunity to flirt with a cute guy if they seem single and available. (If they're not, she wouldn't do another woman dirty like that)

She does want something lasting though in the long run, even if she has fun with these guys

Her type is artsy, expressive guys

She canonically dated Enrique from Madrid with a nose piercing and went to galleries and coffee shops with him so

Her diary on the wiki said that she had a crush on River. So I honestly kind of vibe with that more than the canon couplings (please don't come after me)

It fits so much better than the girl who is into artsy soulful thoughtful guys to ends up with the singer and main songwriter of an up and coming rock band rather with a jock who pulled Madison's hair

She'd be a lot less jealous than Barbie is and it would make more sense for her to make clothes for the band then- she knows how important image is within the music industry even if she's a pop girlie

She'd never be like "wow Madison is cheating with him" when Madison is the band's manager and the brains of the logistical operation

There's not a lot of reasoning for Barbie and River to be together other than they both find each other hot. Same for Chelsea and Hudson.

Barbie fully says "And did I mention that Mads is sweet on Sutton? They’ve spent some serious quality time together. But…hmm…I’m still not sure about River. I think we may be better off as friends – at least for now."

So they're not convincing to me

And then after River rejects Chelsea the writers do a hard pivot and have her say "I guess I'm into Hudson now" No it was not properly built up

"I never really noticed before, but Hudson is one babe-alicious boy!"

Yeah no.

She and Hudson do actually hang out one-on-one according to the diary entries and she's intrigued by how quiet and (I suppose) sensitive he is

Yes I'm aware this was a webisode series designed to sell dolls I don't care this is for fun. I think that this was sloppy in the diary entries.

My headcanon is that Chelsea would eventually be a fashion designer heavily associated with the band as a muse (which they would first try and hide and say that they're purely professional because River would be against it and want the relationship to be private, but the tabloids are vultures so eventually Madison leverages it for PR)

The fashion designer and the rock star

She'd so be like Alexa Chung but more behind the scenes on the fashion side of things

River would be kinda pretentious about his taste in rock music and she'd make him respect pop

also through her love of literature and poetry I think she'd give him more creative ideas for lyrics, at least inadvertently

A lot of people would be curious about this mysterious woman with red hair and dark eyes that he keeps mentioning in his songs

Chelsea actually knows a lot of rock music through Madison, it's just not her favorite

Unless it's like No Doubt in which case she's obsessed

Don't worry, I have other shipping ideas for Barbie

Misc:

Favorite decorations: Her apartment is filled with various CDs of pop icons and corresponding posters and album art

It's also crowded with various projects, sketches, and clothes that she's altering

Favorite random topic: She loves art history almost as much as fashion. Almost. She will geek out to you about the surrealists, even their more meandering works

Favorite music: Cher, Selena, Stevie Nicks, Mariah Carey, Lauryn Hill, ABBA, No Doubt, Mary J. Blige, finds Ricky Martin to be catchy but overrated, she finds JLO to be in the same boat, Madonna, the Cardigans, Diana Ross, Celia Cruz, her mom would not stop playing Adriano Celentano so she unfortunately also picked it up, begrudgingly some reggeaton though not all of it (granted if someone plays Gasolina she's coming onto the dance floor no matter what)

I'm trying to keep this to artists that existed in the 90s/2000s but I feel like she'd vibe with both Sabrina Carpenter and Kali Uchis

Favorite perfumes: Marc Jacob's Daisy line

Favorite hot drink: latte, nothing too strong. She prefers more milk in her coffee

Favorite book: Anna Karenina because of the amount of political and psychological themes that Tolstoy included

Favorite drink: she likes fruity cocktails in general but especially a Long Island iced tea

Favorite lipstick: MAC's Ruby Woo

Her dog's name is Mambo and not Churro. I think it's cuter with the original name. It's apparently supposed to be a combination of Madison and Barbie's names who seem to have inspired this adoption, which again, is cuter than "I renamed the dog when Madison brought Churros one time and asked him if he wanted one"

Her parents instilled a love of partner dancing in her, it's brought up in her diary that she's forced Hudson to go salsa/cha cha/rumba/tango lessons

She takes the subway because it's the fastest way around the city, Barbie and Madison are picky and prefer not to (one diary entry mentioned that they once had to take the bus and the two of the looked very out of place. There's no way those two take the subway).

She dyes her hair with Henna so that's why it's red sometimes

Career Aspirations:

To become a fashion designer, but not for fame or fortune, out of a legitimate love of what she does

She has so many concepts for different designs and how to make clothes that are upcycled and insanely stylish

At the moment, she's attending design school

Her handbags have been taking off for their eccentric, yet practical designs

Ex: she has taken old cigar boxes before and refurbished them into usable handbags (this is canon based on her diary)

She wants to start a sustainable upcycling business, rather than always buying a bunch of new materials every single time. There's something cool about the creative challenge of taking an existing piece and adding to it

[alter1412]

I have realized that I never posted the pebbles plushie finished. So here it is!!!!

Here is the reason it took me so long

That embroidery I did it by hand. In the weeks that I was having exams. Funnily enough, it was a good stress relief.

[loartacc]

Hee hee hoo hoo

For your Spotify game

78 with V'ero my friend V'ero

I'm gonna use this challenge to kinda experiment with these guys so, Sparring V'ero! Mans is trying out a new stress relief and it is Not Working. He doesn't super love sparring especially since if he hurts his hands too bad sewing and embroidery is a pain. (Literally and figuratively)

(Lyrics in the picture:

You stay 'cause you think you want me

Pray when you need advice

Hey keep your sickness off me I'm tryin' to get through

Shame you could take this from me

Bane on an empty mind

Hey keep your fingers off me, why can't I get through?

End Lyrics)

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 5 - Anti-Thesis

One would think Katrina's life couldn't border away from the limits of perfection; What more was for her to desire? She's already gotten her freedom, some kind of excitement in her life in the form of the demon and how he was able to catch her interest so; Her wholesome reunion with her fiance, and her friendship with the prefects was very much appreciated also.

Being able to study so many subjects, especially her main area of interest, and then going hang out with Edgar by the flower field, with him playing with her hair, and she would read her medical textbooks, resting her head on his lap. At some point, she even was gifted a beautifully embroidered handkerchief, done with his own hands - She was going to cherish it forever. It was the first time she was able to learn what camaraderie truly was, as she received and offered help to peers, older or younger than her.

To think that her simple yet equally brilliant idea of going to Undertaker would upturn her whole life, and would make her experience happiness at its peak. The ignorant bliss of an ordinary life. She was compelled to write weekly letters to her benefactor, expressing her gratitude and telling him all the gossips and stories that she wanted to tell him over a cup of tea, but could not.

However, all fairy tales have some kind of dark twist of events, and for Katrina, said critical point of ultimate distress materialised as Derek Arden, the Duke of Clemens' son... Otherwise known as the cousin of the Queen herself. From an outside perspective, Derek was the embodiment of perfection, without the littlest flaw to him.

Of course, being a vixen herself, she could sense the cunning lies that hid behind the seraphic mask he was hiding behind - Much like Sebastian himself, a butler without a flaw is suspicious without a speck of doubt, yet unlike the demon, Arden was the devil only in an adjective sense, a devil in human's skin.

He bullies people, he beats them, accuses them baselessly, he makes them do his homework, his embroideries, his poems... He does nothing except blackmail people into doing his bidding, and of course, Katrina, with her detective sense, without even meaning to, found him out. Adrian Crevan, however, was the protegee of the Prefects, a seemingly perfect young gentleman himself who excelled in various studies - The perfect victim for the privileged young man who had it all.

But during one of Adrian Crevan's nights of berating, degradation and physical altercations, one of Arden's own goonies manhandled him so roughly that he managed to rip the expensive textile of his clothing, revealing his secret - Adrian Crevan was actually a cross-dressing lady with no right to study in a men's only college. Much was the Duke's son's delight as he had something to extort and threaten to reveal her secret - He was gracious enough not to report her, of course, with the right price of working for him, just like everyone else.

Not only that, but he found out her true identity and that she was engaged to Edgar Redmond; Adding that to knowing the prefects already knew of her, their reputation was going to be tarnished if these things were to be made public - A huge scandal was going to take place. The daughter of the High Court Judge making a mockery of the tradition of London's most prestigious college, and the nephew of the renowned Viscount Druitt - While he, the son of Duke Clemens, the cousin of the Queen herself, will be shown in a graceful light as he did the righteous thing of revealing the truth he uncovered.

Katrina had just gotten a taste of happiness, she didn't want it to be so harshly taken away from her like that. She couldn't have that. She had to be saved somehow, to unmask the devilry of his actions and get justice without also being brought down the drain herself. She couldn't even get back home to get some relief, some kind of de-stressing, laugh with the Undertaker, flirt and give a hard time to Sebastian, beat Grell up and spew slander at William - There was nothing more she needed than to be allowed the comfort of her little home, and perhaps something to sooth her bruised skin.

Every day, without fail, late at night when she was sure there was no one spying, she would send a line into the complaint box, written in golden ink on an elegant black stationary paper. 

"𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝓂𝒶𝓁ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓍'𝓈 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒶𝓀ℯ𝓃 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉ℴ 𝓌ℯ𝒶𝓇. 𝒲𝒽ℴ'𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓁 𝓋𝒾𝓍ℯ𝓃 𝓃ℴ𝓌, ℐ 𝓌ℴ𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇?"

Likewise, it seemed as though Edgar was able to figure out there was something wrong with, based on her speaking less than usual, and even flinching at the slightest of touches; The poor blond would flash confused, worried glances her way - At the same time, Derek would smirk at her, reminding her of their unspeakable deal. How long would it take for either of the Prefects would realise, she wondered.

She hoped soon, because she wasn't sure how long her body could take this frequent abuse before her milky complexion would turn blue, purple, black and yellow, and every other shade in-between. She was supposed to be a lady, how in the world could she possibly show herself with bruises and marks all all over her arms. Not only for her sake, but for everyone else who was in the same situation, she hoped this nightmare would end soon... Though she doubted that would be the case, as she noticed even the Vice-Principal being an accomplice, an arrogant man, bribed with alcohol and favour.

Weeks passed at an alarming pace, and nothing was being done. Realising that the Prefects still had no idea of the horrors and corruption happening right under their noses, she came up with the idea of dedicating a poem to them. Along with the other bullied boys, they came up with the perfect key-words that would have just the perfect amount of vagueness that it would attract the eye and wonder their enigma. She was almost proud of the way she was capable of writing coded lines - Blue ink instead of black, to subtly highlight the words of interest. Kat knew her fiance the best - Him, of all people, should be able to pick up on such a difference; His keen sight was always attentive to detail, and there was none like him, capable of deciphering the true meaning of the poem.

"𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒯𝒽ℴ𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒷ℯ𝓈𝒾𝒹ℯ𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓀ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯℊ𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝒷𝓎 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝒹ℯ, ℒℯ𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒽𝒾𝓈 ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝓉ℴ 𝒶 𝒷ℯ𝓃ℯ𝓋ℴ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓅ℴ𝓈𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓅 ℴ𝒻 𝒷ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓁, 𝒜 𝓃𝒶𝓊ℊ𝒽𝓉𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓉ℴ𝓈𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝓃𝓉ℴ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓀ℯ. 𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒽ℯ 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈ℴ, 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝓌ℯ𝓃𝓉 ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁ℯ𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈. 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒸𝒶𝓂ℯ 𝓁ℯℊℯ𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓅ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓇𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓉, 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒢ℴ𝒹 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝒹ℯ𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋ℯ𝒹 ℴ𝒻 𝓁𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 ℴ𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊ℊ𝒽 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓃𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉."

Derek Arden was Deprived of Light... They will understand it when they sees it.

As expected, that jerk, along with his friends, got three of the bullied kids beaten up and on the ground, and everyone was making fun of then, as they watched. Katrina, also was there, and though she wasn't being hit with the cricket paddle, Arden's hand was tightly gripping her hair, slammed her into the wall, her clothes pulled to ripping point, so close that she had to meekly hold her arms to hold the cloth properly over her chest. She daren't even attempt to fight back or claw her way out of his grasp, fearing being physically exposed in all her shame. Thankfully, the scene was interrupted by the door opening, and through it stepped Edgar himself, his eyes wide, shocked, and pained at the display before him. "Derek...?" there was nothing but horror in his eyes, as the culprit looked back, feeling busted. His grip loosened, allowing the lady room to wiggle away, but she couldn't fight him off. "Deprived of light... All results were fake. You took other's talents through despicable means and used them to make yourself shine... I should have known when you couldn't decipher that poem..." Edgar gritted his teeth in anger and guilt whilst Bluewer ushered everyone to their dorms.

"Sheesh... I ONLY NEEDED ONE MORE YEAR!" Derek yelled, grabbing Katrina and putting her in a choke hold with one arm, while the other oscillated between holding her tightly by the waist, or gesticulating. "I'm the heir to a famous Marquis house, right? My family have been prefects here for generations and all. I'm so over that. I didn't even want to go, but they just threw me into this place. So, can't you just overlook it when I want to let off some steam? In return, I'll supply you with a much bigger donation than everyone else, from my dad. If you like, I'll even accept a Y so..." Derek kept talking cockily, but Herman had none of it.

"STOP FOOLING AROUND, AND LET HER GO! The principal will hear about this from the Vice-Principal! Be prepared for a fitting punishment!" Herman yelled at him, hating this injustice, but he was unaware of the true corruption at hand.

"Did you hear that?" he called out, revealing the Vice-Principal himself, looking down with sheer arrogance at them.

"Vice-Principal Agares?! What is the meaning of this?! Why are you...?" Edgar blinked in confusion and betrayal.

"I see the situation. Derek and four others... You will receive 2 Y for being out at night." the VP spoke sternly, making Derek push her away and let out a fake and slurred apology.

"To think that even in the most prestigious London College, such inconceivable corruption could take place. Bullying, beating, blackmail, corruption, physical, verbal and sexual harassment, alcohol and drug dealing, getting out of the school premises, manipulating, extorting, forgery... And so many more... And yet you, Vice-Principal, would rather sell yourself for a bottle of whiskey and the grace of the Duke's family. You are as despicable for accepting it, as he is, for being the mastermind behind all this." seeing as the truth was revealed and there was little she could do anymore except speak out, considering she may get kicked out school.

She struggled to keep her clothes intact and still properly covering them, though the VP had no mercy hearing her talk back to him like that. He backhanded her so bad, she stumbled away. "The only thing I can see needing to be reported to the principal is that a nosy, impertinent woman found her way inside an all boys' school, and Derek was righteous enough to speak against rule-breaking." his eyes were bored and cold, looking down at her as though she was less than scum, and even lesser.

"The principal had already accepted me. You cannot take that away from me." she glared at him, seething through her teeth. 

"B-But...! We can't let this get swept under the rug just like that!" Edgar tried to speak once again, only to feel the harshness of the VP.

"This year's prefects are quite rude and hide so many important secrets. Even more, you dare voice your opinions against the Vice-Principal? If you don't want to follow her route and be expelled for rule-breaking, I suggest you shut up and go on with your lives as you've done so far." he glared at his, making Katrina gasp at his words.

"Expelled?! You have no right to expel me! I can have you thrown out of here - There are enough witnesses who saw you selling yourself for a bottle of whiskey and some money, you disgusting, arrogant bastard!" she barked back at him, only to see the VP smirking wretchedly at her, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

"That's what rule-breakers deserve, you insolent woman." was the VP's response, as Derek started stretching next to him.

"Ah, man, I feel so down. Next year I'll have to be a prefect, huh?" he whined as Edgar rushed to her side, holding her to his chest protectively. Not only was the shock of the discovery enough to shake him to the core, but he had to watch his fiance being belittled and oppressed to an unimaginable degree.

Things turned a far different turn than they expected however, as Herman, in an impulsive fit of angry rage, used his Cricket paddle to hit Derek Arden over the head, as hard as his muscles could muster up strength. The first to grasp the gravity of the situation were the too Violet Wolves who rushed to the doors to block everyone from leaving the room, whilst Bluewer and Edgar held down the Vice-Principal... Allowing the Lion to kill everyone.

Many minutes were needed for everything to settle down with a graveyard silence; Violet took off his cloak and covered the lady, hiding her form carefully. Katrina went to each and every one of the victims, taking their pulse - She confirmed they were all dead. There was no way anyone could survive taking a paddle to the head, if it came from that musclehead Greenhill.

"I-It's all my fault... What did I do..." the poor boy was shaking, his grip tightening on the paddle.

"No." Katrina sighed. "This is all on me." her fingers went deep into her locks. "For weeks now, Arden had known my secret, and took advantage of it. I had reached the limit point of despair, and realised there was something I needed to do - It was either giving up my education... And the other, unmasking his sins. I knew the VP was involved, but... Damn." she sighed once again. "If I knew this was going to happen... If I knew I would implicate all of you... That this would happen... I wouldn't have bothered... I would have simply continued to take it for as long as needed. I am so sorry... I... I'm so sorry I got you in this mess."

"You didn't have a choice - Either of you. It was right of you to report the crimes, and they had to be punished accordingly." Bluewer shook his head, reassuring the two that neither of them was baring any ill-will. "As it stands, Greenhill will get the blame and Miss Raymond will be expelled."

"...I have an idea. Will you leave it to me?" Edgar sighed, having a plan.

"No... I can't have you commit a crime as well." Herman shook his head, almost crying.

"And I can't have you punished for being the mastermind of this reveal. I called you here, so I created this domino effect." Katrina crouched to grasp the bloody paddle from his hands.

"Katrina, not only as a Prefect, but the Prefect of your own house no less, it was me who should have protected you, and all the other Violet Wolves. I failed. We all did." Gregory got next to her, one hand on her shoulder, squeezing it, while the other was holding the handle of the murder weapon. "We're all in this together. You are not the only Prefect here, Greenhill." Violet said, walking next to me and grasping the handle as well.

"Yes. We are sworn to protect this school." Bluewer nodded, joining in.

"For that purpose we will proudly commit a crime." Edgar joined as well, making the poor Green Prefect gasp in emotion.

Kat, also, couldn't help but look down, biting her lip. Sooner rather than later, this crime will be revealed, and the Queen will be sending her Dog to investigate the situation, with her trailing behind shamelessly, playing dumb of the whole ordeal. It was going to be a great mess. If she thought dealing with Derek's abuse was the epitome of bad, the moment the Queen suspects foul play, it's all over.

After finding out the principal was conveniently on a trip around the world, Edgar admitted the potential plan of human resuscitation could potentially work. Though she wanted to ask more about such a ridiculous ordeal - How could dead humans come back to life, after all? That went beyond the laws of nature! - Her fiance placed a kiss on her forehead, begging her to forget everything that happened. It wasn't for a lovely lady like her to deal with. He was the man, and he was going to be dealing with this mess, one way or another.

Just as conveniently, Katrina received a letter from the Undertaker, stating that Ciel was ready to investigate the Noah Circus, so it was time for yet another well-deserved break. Honestly, after such hellish chaos, she wanted to get out of there faster. In spite of her dreadful feeling when thinking of the College, knowing that her dear fiance was there to protect her was rather endearing. A warm feeling was always engulfing her heart, whenever she thought of Edgar. How lucky she was, having such a kind, reliable man as her future husband. If all else fails in life, perhaps hiding inside his manor for the rest of her days and becoming that pretty eye-candy lady accessory at his side, batting her lashes and fanning herself lazily didn't sound as bad anymore.

Finally arrived at home, Katrina slept through the whole day - It felt so good, finally able to relax properly and take a hot bath in the comfort of her own home, where there was no risk of getting caught for being a man. Truly, she's accidentally seen enough male private parts when passing the showers, and she was pretty sure she needn't see one more for a few lifetimes.  Concerned for her health, the mortician checked on the sleeping lady every two hours, and though he'd softly called out her name and ask if she wanted to eat something or drink some tea, he was met with not even a tweak of her body. The poor girl was entirely defeated. Once she did open her eyes, however, she was met with a tray with lots of food and tea - The Undertaker was ready to have a jovial late breakfast with his cute, little fox - There was, after all, so much gossip to catch up to!

His easy-going grin faltered however, as he put down his cup and extended his hands to grasp her arm, his long, black nails gently trailing up her arm, rolling up the fabric of her sleeve, revealing the large spots of unnatural colour painting her skin. "What in the world could have happened, my dear?" his voice was unexpectedly somber, at least an octave lower than usual.

"O-Oh... Don't worry too much about that. I... Got injured during cricket practice. Violet wants me in the team. Needless to say, Greenhill doesn't exactly know when to play casually." her awkward chuckle, however, didn't impress the man.

"There is something you haven't told me, isn't it? What is it that you're hiding?" he asked, his face leaning closer to her, weirdly intimidating.

"It's really not something to be concerned about. Not anymore, at least. The, uh... The rotten part of the golden apple had been cut off and thrown in the trash." despite saying that, she couldn't look at him directly.

"And would the Queen miss that golden apple, or is she not interested in fruit?" it was always uncomfortable almost, speaking in metaphors like that, especially with him.

"The Queen has always been rather fond of apple pie... But nobody was aware that those apples were poisoned and were parasiting every other fruit in the orchard." she muttered softly. "I only hope no animals will be thrown around to find this golden apple."

"Don't you worry, my sweetling. Even if that were to happen, the single, most appealing sweet cherry will be guarded, and far away from any harm of any kind." though it was supposed to serve as reassuring, the statement sounded more ominous than she expected, and if Katrina suspected some kind of involvement from the mortician, now she was almost sure he must be a relative or best friend of the principal, otherwise, he wouldn't have any base for such a bold declaration.

In spite of feeling nearly threatened, not only by the menacing words of the parlor owner, but of his creepy grin... She actually did feel more comforted knowing that, no matter what may come out of that mess, her future may still have some ground. "I don't deserve your kindness." though the comment made the man bark a laugh, the carefree and cheerful atmosphere returned, and the gossips and stories were in bloom.

Two of three days later, perhaps almost as though he was called, Ciel came by the parlor, just as Katrina finished baking a cake. She was very proud of the way it ended up, especially considering she had to learn everything about cooking from scratch. Undertaker was fine with eating actual dog biscuits, but she wasn't. Though, she still couldn't brew a tea as good as he did.  In spite of all the try-hard attempts at cooking proper meals that were, well... Not poisonous... Katrina still wanted to go by the Phantomhive mansion and get to taste Sebastian's cooking and baking. That man was ironically Godly when it came to food. 

"Hehehehe.... Did you finally want to get into one of my special coffins? Have a seat, I've just baked a cake." Undertaker giggled creepily as Katrina walked into the room as well, holding the small cake on a large platter.

"Actually, I did, so it's safe to eat... I hope." she smirked vaguely, waiting for Ciel and Sebastian to settle down and talk. "I've never baked before."

The Undertaker grinned, getting behind the lady and leaning down over her shoulder, taking a long sniff of the cake, as though he was some kind of animal. "Smells good!" he chirped enthusiastically, eagerly taking out a knife and cutting a large cake slice for himself - How greedy.

"Might not be the best looking, but as long as it's eatable, I think that's good enough for a first try." out of courtesy, she cut slices for the two new-comers, though not without having to stifle a chuckle when handing the plate to the demon. "Forgive me, I do not think it is going to be quite to your liking though."

"It's... Decent." Ciel muttered, though Kat knew it was nothing compared to every delicacy he was used to, done by his butler.

"Decently magnificent!" Undertaker wolfed down the whole slice, which was portioned rather as almost half of the whole cake.

"No need to flatter me, I have taste buds for myself. It's fine, I'm rather proud of how it came out. Suppose I should continue trying out new recipes, after all." Kat hummed, smiling cutely after taking a first taste of her cake.

"Wonderful news, my darling~!" of course he'd like the news of Katrina cooking - He needn't live on tea and dog biscuits anymore. What an exploiter.

"What do you say, Sebastian? A little ashy, innit?" she teased the demon slightly, recalling the curry nudge.

"Not at all, My Lady; In fact, I can taste the sweet taste of chocolate." his answer seemed to pleasantly surprise the girl. "If you wish for guidance, I would be honoured to provide help for your culinary journey."

"I would very much appreciate it, Sebastian. There is no one who cooks and bakes better than you." Katrina offered a shy smile - The demon couldn't help but feel a short wave of scorching fire wash over him for a split second - The little vixen can be such an adorable little lamb sometimes, how endearing. To think the one going out of her way to tease and taunt him with every chance she got, would smile like such a sweet little kitten; It only made him want her more.

"Now that we've got all sweetened up by our adorable little lady; I'm sure the Young Earl wants to get down to business already. Not one to mess around and waste time, is it?" the mortician mused with mock hilarity. "I know why you are here, earl. Children's corpses... The surface world has not yet found the missing corpses, it seems. And in the underworld, children's corpses are my everyday occurrence, after all, which the earl knows veeeeeeeery well, doesn't he?" the Undertaker slurred with a grin, sipping from the tea that Katrina poured for them.

"We've brought you the documents. Are there any children you've 'Tidied up' amongst them?" Ciel asked, all business, and she could only chuckle, realising what the goofy man was waiting for.

"Nothing's for free, Ciel." Kat winked at the blue eyed boy.

"I wonder~! Were they there~? If I saw something interesting, I think I'd remember~. A first rate laugh, if you do thaaaaat, I'l tell you anything you want ~! You understand, don't you, earl~? You'll have to give me that~!" the silver haired man was almost drooling with anticipation, until the young boy called out his butler's name. 

"Are you always going to rely on others to do everything for you, Ciel? Don't you know sometimes you have to do the field work yourself? You couldn't be helpless without Sebastian... Could you~?" she innocently sipped from the tea, knowing she hit quite the nerve.

"...I'll do it." Katrina was sure poor Ciel almost popped a vein from anger as he said that.

"Young Master, are you certain?" Sebastian looked with surprise at the young one.

"Leave. And don't you DARE peek. That's an order. Both of you - Get out!" Ciel looked very dangerously at his butler, who could only bow and leave.

"But Ciel, I live here. You can't possibly kick me out of my house, can you?" the red haired lady hummed at him, making the earl flustered up violently.

"Now, now, dear, surely, we can accommodate the Young Earl a little. After all, it's his first time dabbling in comedy. With that butler of his always doing his bidding, the earl is trying to grow up, for once~!" though the child protested like a brat throwing a tantrum, all frowny and bothered, Katrina couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head, stepping outside of the parlor.

"I got kicked out of my house, how's that?" she smiled playfully, sitting down on the porch. "I hope you're wearing comfortable clothes, Sebastian. We're going to be out here for quite a while."

"If My Lady thinks we might be waiting for long, then perhaps she should have brought a jacket with her." the man teased her softly, though at once, he had already placed his coat carefully over her shoulders.

"Yes, I suppose I should be practicing what I've been preaching, yes? I am just like a pastor - A complete hypocrite." she hummed in amusement. "Regardless, I hadn't expected to be kicked out like that. Took me by surprise, really. Ciel got really embarrassed at the mere thought of me seeing him struggle with his comedy skit." Sebastian was crouched down by her side, his eyes, so warm and tender, yet holding such devilish mischief seemed to be staring intently at her. Katrina rose a quizzical eyebrow at him, unsure of his uncharacteristic silence. Usually, he'd retort with some witty reply to her playful banter - Now, however, he said nothing. "Sebastian? Is there something bothering or upset you? I would have expected you to find entertainment in me slandering the so-called messengers from God."

"Yes, you are correct, My Lady - I cannot take away from your unique sense of humour, and how much the irony of it amuses me so - However, I have to wonder..." the demon bit away his white glove, cold fingertips trailing down her neck artery and down to her cleavage, gently pushing away the thin material of her dress to reveal the traces of poorly covered bruises with fading make up powder. "What kind of savage brute you have encountered in the time we were away, that he could inflict such atrocious marks on a damsel like yourself." 

Katrina's first instinct was to hide away her damaged skin with her hands, but somehow, being fixed by that demonic gaze rendered her unable to move; She felt so little, so defenseless, hearing him make such a big deal out of what happened. For a woman who beat up a Shinigami with a crowbar, she sure allowed weak humans to do away with harming her. "I..." her eyes were unable to focus on him; Instead, they seemed to search some kind of nothingness, away, to the side. "I suppose not all men are as gentlemanly as they'd wish to appear." she mumbled softly. "The real monsters have never been demons or whatever horrifying shape the shadow takes in the night. Humans are humanity's worst nightmare, Sebastian."

"And if this particular monster was to be disposed of? Would your nightmares turn to sweet dreams, My Lady?" the demon's hand gently picked her chin, making her look at him.

"Nightmares might be dispelled with the sudden disappearance of one's reason for distress... But, Sebastian..." Katrina leaned closer to him, her hands gingerly holding his hand so that she could cutely nuzzle into his palm like a little kitten, before placing a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist. "Only with a proper, loving treatment, may one achieve pleasant dreams."

The butler, though amazed by her mellow demeanour, couldn't help an almost shameless smirk from tugging at his lips. Coddling up to a demon like that, how endearing, and so different from the otherwise pleasantly feisty and provoking lady. For how long was she going to tempt him, until he finally gave in to his nefarious greed and he claimed what was rightfully his? "You are playing with fire, my dear Lady, and as it stands, you might just get your fur singed."

"I don't see a huge problem, Sebastian, after all, I am getting rather cold, and I am in dire need of some warming up." Katrina rose her hands to his face. "See? My fingers are turning blue from this dreadful weather, and your Master is taking so long in his task. Surely, you have to be somewhat responsible for the action of the one you're serving... Thus, you should be held accountable."

"Held accountable, you say~?" Sebastian's wicked simper widened enough to show off his devilish, elongated canines. "There are plenty of ways to warm up a brazzen little kitten such as yourself, to the point of suffocating even from the heat; There are ways that would leave you craving the scorch of hell, as the tongues of flame caress every inch of your skin..." the man trailed on, only to switch positions with the woman, as he was now sitting with Katrina placed on his lap - His arms were cradling her small form into his chest; He was burning with warmth and desire. "But I am not cruel, nor unfair with kittens like yourself - Not unless you've earned the need for some discipline for scraping away the drapes." 

Katrina snuggled into his embrace, her face leaning in the crook of his neck, as her body was eagerly welcoming the comforting heat of his body; He felt like a furnace. Rather boldly, one of her hands found its rightful place on his chest, where his heart would be. "I never imagined demons were as alive as you are." she absent-mindedly wondered out loud. "You bleed, just like any creature alive; You have a pulse, and it is quite rapid. I wonder your heart, also, how it feels listening to it beat. I heard it is supposed to be calming, just like a cat's purr."

"If you promise to purr for me sweetly, My Lady, then I might not be opposed to allowing you to test that theory yourself." even the soft rumble of his velvety, soothing voice seemed to comfort the girl into relaxing in his arms, though her hand cutely remained over his hear, despite being unable to feel it through so many layers of clothing. Katrina purred into neck, lazily teasing the demon. "Sounds like a fair compromise, and very much in my favour. Have I mellowed you, demon?"

"I am guilty of being unable to resist the charm of beautiful cats, such as yourself." one of his hands started petting her hair, as he would to a cat. "You are being awfully tender yourself, My Lady."

"I am unable to resist you." she so daringly declared. "I have never felt anything quite like this. It is... Addicting. And you, demon, should know how greedy humans are with their pleasures."

"I am rather amazed with your forwardness, though I have to admit, I find your innocent honesty rather... Adorable." the man hummed, knowing very well the effect of his voice's vibration.

"I was wondering, Sebastian." Katrina never once let her lazy smile disappear. "Can demons die from a death scythe?"

"What an unexpected question you ask, My Lady. Yes, I suppose, I have to agree, something as ridiculous as a gardening tool is capable of bringing our demise - Nothing else." the demon answered her.

"You were bleeding rather heavily when fighting against that fool - Grell, was it? Not that his name matters - But were you close to your death? Even your breathing was affected, and you looked exhausted for a while." she recalled the events of that dreadful night.

"It takes more than that to kill a demon - I will have to ask you not to underestimate my kin so." the man could barely hold himself from scoffing in irritation.

"Why haven't you used a weapon to defend against that chainsaw?" the lady asked innocently.

"A Death Scythe can cut through anything, even the toughest material, without fail." that notion stiffened her body, as she slowly shifted her position to look at him. "I see you figured out also."

"It did not cut through my sword." she breathed out silently. "If two Death Scythes were to clash... Would they cut each other, or remain unscathed?"

"I think we both found out the answer to that, My Lady." from her genuine confusion and bewilderment as she regained her rightful spot cuddled in his arms, Sebastian easily concluded, whoever offered her that sword, hadn't quite told her of its spectacular properties.

It was already late into the evening when the door opened, signaling Ciel's success in grasping the smallest giggle out of the mortician. With some help from the butler, he guided her back inside the parlor, revealing the poor boy in a rather disheveled state. Katrina simply HAD to ask Undertaker later the full story - Now THAT was going to garner an endless stream of laughs.

"What on Earth did you do?" Sebastian asked, trying to fix his clothes.

"Don't ask." the poor boy grumbled in annoyance.

"But, for the sake of the Queen, you'll perform and even do this kind of thing. You really are a dog." Sebastian chuckled at the irony.

"Shut the hell up." Ciel gritted his teeth at his cheeky butler. "There, I gave you your reward. Now tell me about the children." he glared at the Undertaker, who grinned like the cheshire cat, throwing the documents in Kat's lap, urging her to look through the files.

"None of these children were our clients." she noticed.

"And I haven't heard any rumours from the underworld companies." Undertaker, also, spoke out.

"So, in other words, you know nothing about this case?" Ciel scowled at the man.

"You are getting rusty, Ciel." Kat smirked, theatrically throwing the folder up into the air, the papers flying around aimlessly around them. "If even the Undertaker doesn't know of the missing children, it means they weren't killed - Not only the possibility of them being alive arises... But it also means you finally get to do some legwork and investigate the circus yourself!" she barked a mocking laugh at the boy, who still was tired from his comedic skit.

"What, you aren't coming?" the Earl asked, walking towards the exit.

"And miss out on the fun? Not a chance." Katrina smirked, rushing after them as the carriage got them to Noah's Ark Circus.

The short walk from the street and to the tent itself seemed nothing out of the ordinary - People seemed joyful, there were circus artists performing idly, mascots and jesters all around. The three went inside the tent, having their tickets cut and allowed to seat themselves, awaiting the beginning of the show. As expected, some jokes were thrown around, there were people breathing fire or jumping the trapeze, acrobats showing off, others were dagger-throwing at a rotating target with another human tied to it; A lovely girl was rope-walking, a cute, silver haired snake-hybrid looking man was manipulating numerous snakes hanging around his scaly body. Sebastian mentioned he couldn't sense any of the children, just as a lasciviously dressed woman showed off her leather whip, taming a tiger. 

The leader of the circus asked for a volunteer from the public, and of course, Sebastian had to get up and march up to the ring. Tigers were felines, and only Hell knows how much he adores felines. How adorable of him. He crouched down in front of the tiger, fluffing it up, admiring it, taking its paw in his hands... Until it bit his head and Katrina could only facepalm at his idiocy. He really was so cute. The woman tried to whip the tiger to let him go, but of course, Sebastian had to show off and stop the whip, while saying the feline had no fault in it - He even scolded the woman! The audacity! The tiger bit him again. Sebastian truly was one hell... Of a fool.

"Who said you could go that far?!" Ciel growled at his butler as the trio exited the circus tent.

"My apologies. I've lived for such a long time, but it's only cats whose fickle emotions I cannot read." Sebastian smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Ah - Look at you, blushing so cutely - How can I resist the charm of such an angelic being like yourself?" Katrina couldn't help but tease him.

"YOU KNOW I'M ALLERGIC TO CATS! Walk further back!" Ciel kept sneezing violently.

Though Katrina was dearly enjoying seeing the butler being so innocently cute, she was unable to continue half-teasing and half-gushing over his love for all kinds of cats, as the ginger-haired presenter of the circus stopped them, pleading to the man to get checked by their doctor and make sure he was as fine as he said he was. It hadn't dawned initially, but Kat noticed, from the corner of her eye, how Ciel hid himself, allowing only the two of them to follow the man calling himself Joker to the medical tent - Still, they had to pass a rather menacing walk, where everyone was eerily glaring at them - What a disconcerting feeling the lady was feeling, she couldn't help but shiver softly, clinging to the sleeve of his coat until they reached the safety of the medical tent, and meeting the messy-looking doctor in a wheelchair.

The blond boy who looked around Finny's age asked if Sebastian was the one bitten by Betty, the gorgeous tiger, making the doctor immediately grab the butler, searching his head for any injury - Surprise surprise, there was no wound, how absolutely miraculous.  During the check-up, the eccentric ginger man let it slip that he wasn't truly the ring leader, but something closer to a hired shop manager, and that the real ring leader was actually a pretty scary guy. Out of nowhere, the woman garbed in the succubus outfit of black leather strutted inside, tired, asking to have her leg looked at - Only to notice and glare at Sebastian, even scold him for ruining her show - All whilst the blond was on his knees, confessing his undying love for her. 

How absolutely tragic.

"You are the mad gentleman from earlier! Why are you here?! Thanks to you, the show was--" the woman, Beast, pointed accusatory at Sebastian, while the doctor, on the other end, was scolding her, making the butler be at the middle of this banter... Quite literally.

"What are you saying to our guest?! In this case, if you weren't able to control Betty, wasn't that your own carelessness?" the doc pointed out her mistake.

"But he carelessly -" she tried to defend herself, but to no avail.

"There's no buts about it! You're a pro, aren't you?" the doctor shot right back, only to have the two men intervene.

"Now, now, doc, don't yell in front of the customer!" the ginger one grinned carefree.

"That's right! Instead of that, please take a look at my big sis's leg!" the blond one changed the subject quickly.

"Ahh, fine... After this, Beast must discipline Betty again. Right, then, let me see the prosthetic." the doctor agreed, as the brunette sat on the table. 

"Prosthetic?" Sebastian blinked in surprise.

"There's a bit of a reason behind this circus. Folks with some sorta problem gather together here. I'm amissing an arm too, but thanks to doc, I've got this. Pretty cool, huh?" this one called Joker explained, showing off his skeleton hand.

"Oh, it looks lovely!" Katrina quickly threw herself into the equation, gingerly taking his hand into her own and caressing all of his phalanx... They really felt like actual human bone phalanx, she realised, though she simply plastered a sweet, bashful smile as she looked up at the man. "I think it makes you look really cool!"

"It may look cool, but that hand goes bad so quickly! Makes me want to readjust his whole body, too!" the doc scoffed at the boy.

"You're the one who made the prosthetics for this circus?" Sebastian asked, faking surprise.

"Yeah, that's right. It's hard work, since I do everything from the carving onwards." the doctor explained simply.

"Carving? Doesn't that usually involve wood? They seem much finer than simple wood - More like fine porcelain." Kat raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It's ceramic. Well, I say ceramic, but they're made of special materials that make them light and durable." the man explained, which made her question the true materials used for these prosthetics.

"I see. It also feels good." Sebastian nodded as he started feeling the woman's leg from her ankle up - He was so close, between her legs; So very close to the most private part of her body, which she only his with the tiniest skirt, leaving little to the imagination.

"Right? So that they move smoothly, I use ball-jointed doll parts." the doc continued his explanation, almost cheerful to have someone in awe at his work, completely unaware of the awfully intimate position the two were into.

"This is truly finely made." the butler agreed... But he raised the leg up so much above his shoulder, getting in a rather perverted situation - Though he looked seemingly unaware, Katrina knew very well he was trying to get a rise out of her - And it worked, as the woman named Beast blushed like crazy; It wasn't until the butler's hand touched and trailed down her ceramic thigh that people around realised the uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding them. "This hallmark is...?" Kat heard him muttering - She couldn't help but wonder whose hallmark did she see engraved in that prosthetic?

"U-Uhm... Sebastian..." the red head cleared her throat, hoping he'd pick the hint and not push boundaries, but the woman reacted much quicker and violent.

"What're you doing, you pervert?!" she shrieked, using her prosthetic to attempt a hit on Sebastian; but since he's a demon, he moved out of the way quick enough.

"Ahh, that was rude of me. I've never seen someone so shameless react so modestly, so..." but this is how the mayhem continued with the dagger boy throwing his blades at Sebastian, who did some flips and somehow found himself up on a rope for hanging clothes, holding all daggers between his fingers, a smug smile plastered on his face. Show off.

As soon as Beast tried to hit her whip at the demon, Joker used his baton to create flower and stop her,mildly flirting with her as a warning, before asking Sebastian if he wanted to be recruited. The jerk started berating Ciel, which made his companion barely able to stifle her chuckle, before asking if she could be scouted as well.

"You see, I used to work as the Governess of the little Lady of a Manor in another country. She was very cute, but incredibly spoiled. I don't know if I can do physical tricks, but I'm ambitious and I can try! Besides, I know how to play various instruments, so if anything, I can provide with the music for every circus act!" Katrina's voice turned so comically soft and tender, Sebastian noted, as she enthusiastically clapped her hands together, smiling sweetly at the ginger haired man, who grinned from ear to ear.

Clearly, if he was going to win his way into the circus by proving his prowess, she had to charm her way there and play by her best abilities. What a sly little lady, Sebastian smirked, though he couldn't stand the idea of any other man getting so close and personal with his little kitten - It was him, she wanted. Him, and none else. There was no one else better than him, he was a demon after all. He had felt enough foreign scents lingering on her skin, all of them, having belonged to men - He wanted to rip them all apart limb from limb, eviscerate them and make it rain blood - Alas, he couldn't behave in such a way. "That's amazing! We could really do with someone so lovely that can create atmosphere and lighten up the mood!" Joker said, and Kat could swear she hit the jackpot. She chirped an adorable cheer, making the ginger laugh lightly in glee at her reaction.

"What are you deciding so quickly?!" Beast was already fuming... Was Kat sensing a bit of jealousy? How perfect, she thought - If she was able to charm Joker, Beast's crush, she would be an easy prey for Sebastian to lure in and exploit. Oh, how astonishingly well things fall into place.

"Now, now, they've got outstanding talent!" he chuckled sheepishly, as he bowed to the red head lady, making a pink flower come out of his baton, before putting it in her hair, watching her cheeks turn red like her hair. "There, a pretty flower for a pretty girl! I can't wait to be working with you two!" he smiled so cheerfully, so, to get in the game, she smiled back, her hands clasped together at her chest, looking down bashfully like the angelic, innocent little maiden that she was. 

"I can't wait to work with you as well, Joker!" she confessed, making her voice softer and a tiny bit higher than it usually was. If Lizzie were to see her like this, she'd get jealous.

"Ah, that reminds me. The truth is, there is someone else I'd like to introduce to you." Sebastian smiled innocently, and Kat knew things were going to get so chaotic.

Hearing that, Joker explained how they will have an entrance test, and the next day, things were going to get messy as hell. As the duo exited the medical tent, they started analysing the layout of the circus, as on the way to this place, there were nine tents and ten wagons, but, as Sebastian stated, there was still no sign of any children. Their search came to an abrupt halt though, as the snake boy stopped them, warning them they were going the wrong way, and guided them towards the exit.

As they returned to the carriage where Ciel was, Sebastian explained everything there was to know on their way to the Phantomhive manor, where she will be residing for the duration of the mission. They were greeted by the obnoxious Indian Prince whose presence surprised the lady - He was so loud because he wanted to learn chess, of all things. Though Katrina was exhausted, she waved a dismissive hand for Ciel and Sebastian to leave him in her hands and do whatever they needed to be doing before going to sleep, and she proceeded to teach the basics of Chess to the young lad. Finally, too much intellectual exertion got Soma sleepy, so his butler, Agni, urged him to go sleep.

Finally, Katrina could get ready to sleep, and though Mey-Rin was kind enough to offer her assistance at that late hour, considering she needed a change of clothes and especially a nightgown to sleep in, and to take a long, relaxing bath. When she was finally done, she used some sweet perfume and scented oils, ready to go to her temporary bedroom and get to sleep. 

To her surprise, the butler was there, preparing the bed for her and fluffing up the pillows. Yes, that bed looked as comfortable as a cloud, she noted. It was the single luxury she missed from back at the Raymond Manor. "A pretty flower for a pretty lady, hm~?" the demon hummed tauntingly. "What a precious little angel we have here, who would have thought." he jabbed at her, straightening up. His coat was long since discarded, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up painfully attractive.

"You know what they say, Sebastian, opposites attract, and for a hedonistic, sinful demon like yourself, I was sure the innocence of a seraphic maiden like myself would entice you." she mused vaguely at him.

"A pure soul like yours only serves as a beacon for creatures like myself - Your personality simply shines as a much welcomed addition." the butler admitted.

"Seductive, yet also innocent - What an oxymoron. Surely, that sounds rather like a demon, tempting another into falling into the abyss of their own indulgence... But I cannot help but wonder - Can a demon fall, the same as a human does? Grow so depraved, so frustrated, so greedy and denied that you cannot restrain yourself to your pristine aesthetics, and you take what's yours to claim?" Sebastian's devilish grin displayed his lustful canines, his tongue flicking over them like a starving beast - He was so very amused by her words, he couldn't help but play into her game. 

"Are you calling yourself a Demoness, my dear Lady? A temptress? A seductress?" he tilted his head playfully to the side, his eyes sinfully flashing fuchsia, stepping, prowling towards her like a panther backing its prey against the wall.

"I am certainly not calling myself a Saint." the woman shrugged, smiling defiantly, one foot back, and another, with each one he took forwards towards her, as though they were waltzing so intimately.

"Saints aren't as Holy as most think they are." he mocked the divine.

"Says the one whose last name was given based on the Archangel. You are nothing more than a walking irony, Sebastian, and I will say so with every occasion." she chuckled, leaning her back against the wall, strategically standing at arm's length to the door.

"Your sharp eye never escapes anything, does it... Kitten?" his voice got much lower and slurred, as he spoke that nickname into her ear. He breathed in her scent, feeling not only that sickly sweet floral perfume that suited her so well, but her own inviting heat.

"I wonder, Sebastian - Do demons get jealous? Or, perhaps a better word would be - Territorial? Possessive?" his hot breath on her neck made her grin, despite feeling her heart beat aggressively faster. "You seemed awfully irked when Joker flirted with me. To be the reason you lose, of your own accord, at your own game - A blotch on your flawless, pristine clean demon record, how insanely entertaining, how very satisfying!" she looked at him through the hooded lids of a mischievous little vixen. "That is what demons do, don't they? Throw humans an almost broken thread of hope, and then pleasure themselves on seeing them struggle? Break themselves with needless emotions? No, don't deny it, Sebastian, for in this pitch black that you've created, the only thing I can see is that bewitching pair of glowing, magenta eyes of yours that look oddly similar to those of the felines you love so much - Such as myself." Sebastian slammed one of his hands besides her head, feeling such desire as she didn't even flinch; And instead, continue gazing deep into his soul.

"My Lady, are you attempting to become a demon expert?" he asked, snatching away the pink flower from her hair, making it glow so she could see him burning it, turning it to ashes in his palm, only to create a gorgeous black flower, shimmering other-worldly, and placing it back in her hair. "Demons and sin - They are one and the same. We don't sin - We ARE sin. Jealousy on some puny mortal in unspeakable, though I cannot stand my possessions being touched; Their filthy bodies have no place anywhere near my naughty little kitten who craves only my touch - Isn't that right, Katrina? It is as though your name was accurately chosen to be my sweet little thing, and oh, how you entertain me so. Greed, Lust, Gluttony, and so many other subcategories of these despicable deadly sins - I am them all, when it concerns you." the red head couldn't help but let a laugh out.

"Then, could it be, you were attempting to make me jealous, as you were inspecting Beast's hallmark and taunting her so ruthlessly? Despicable until the end, aren't you? As if I would ever stoop so low and degrade myself to that peasant's level. Ha! Hear that." she sardonically chuckled at him. "If getting a quick fix from someone like her can offer you a second of release and satisfaction, by all means, indulge - But I have to warn you, Sebastian... If you entertain the lower class, well... Cats like being the singular means of one's affection. Surely, a feline expert like yourself would know best, wouldn't you?" Sebastian's both hands were place on either side of her head, caging her so devilishly, so vile, with his adonis body.

"You, little Vixen, are enjoying every little word you're spitting with so much acid. You want to be my spoiled little Kitten, and mewl for me? You purr even from the simplest caress of your hair - I cannot help but be curious what kind of sounds you are capable of, should I pamper you as you deserve." his snake tongue dripped with paralysing poison. "Clearly, that woman has no class, and no worth. She is undeserving of working with such a gorgeous creature. One needs only figure out the important parts, and then leave her like the broken doll she is. There is truly no need to waste time with her." Kat could feel herself smirking with delight as his finger, now ungloved, traced her carotid artery slowly, as if feeling for her spiking pulse.

"Wooden doll, porcelain doll, ceramic doll... Human bone doll?" Kat spoke as in a melody. "You, vile incubus, felt her leg up and down, yet your hands were gloved. Not that I mind. I would rather you take your gloves off only when in my presence." she provoked. "Still... I touched every phalanx from Joker's hand. Every carpus, every metacarpus, every little joint, one by one, very thoroughly. I do like taking my time with such things, you know?" the double entendre wasn't missed on the butler. "I truly wonder though, what that miracle doctor uses for his prosthetic materials. It would be so very ironic should he, Heavens-Forbid, use those children's bones for those prosthetics, wouldn't you agree?" she accentuated the very same ironic phrase he loves using so much.

"Your pure soul is brighter than the moon, and yet, your words are darker than the darkest pits of Tartarus. You call me a walking irony, and yet, you are a true anti-thesis yourself. I have to say, I haven't had such a... Delicious challenge in a long time. I am thrilled to be in your presence." he tried to sound suave, but Kat could only laugh sarcastically.

"Oh, darling, but that's as close as you'll ever get to my soul. We have no contract. I am not Ciel. No matter how appetising my soul is... The truth is... You will never get to touch it! Haha, isn't that amusing?" Katrina giggled nefariously at him. "All you'll be able to do is drool and starve, waiting for Ciel's tarnished, tainted soul, while mine will still be here, glowing with purity and innocence, an infinite times better than his! You're working sooo hard trying to please a child, when the real challenge... The real temptation, the object of your most burning desire, is right here, in front of you. Sooo, close, and yet, farther away than you will ever dream of reaching." she grinned mockingly at him, leaning her face dangerously close to the predator's. "Only able to touch when allowed, only close enough to feel the faint aroma of the most delicious soul you've ever met, yet unable to even get the littlest taste - I may almost start pitying you... But I won't! Sweet dreams, demon~!" she roughly pushed him away, opening the door for him to leave.

"Perhaps one day you will learn that tempting demons is more dangerous than you'll ever imagine, and yet, even then, I'm sure you won't stop playing with fire, for you are a greedy little Kitten, desperate for attention." the man grabbed her chin, raising it, moving so close to her that she could feel his lips brushing against her, and the chilling breath shuddering her very core. "Before I leave, and wish you pleasant dreams, I will give you a little insight..." he inched even closer, whispering into her ear the words of the devil himself. "Devouring isn't the only way of tasting one's appetising soul." his voice was sending chills down her spine as his thumb trailed seductively across her bottom lip, hinting at a most anticipated kiss.

No matter how much her body betrayed her, she still couldn't deny how much she enjoyed every interaction she had with the demon - She truly felt alive, aflame with emotions of all kinds - And as a spoiled human, of course, she craved more. And she was going to get more, even if it meant teasing the miserable demon into losing any sort of self-restraint.

"Don't forget, Sebastian, teasing can only get you so far. When it's too much, however... I wonder how will you behave? Will you be able to control yourself... Or will the temptation be too strong, even for you, and you'll give in, fall to your knees before me, and beg for just one more little lick~?" the woman dared get an inch closer, their noses touching, their breathes getting lost on each other's skin - Yet Katrina disallowed the man from replying, or even acting any more to his flaming desires - As she pushed him out of the room. "For your sake, I hope you dream of me tonight." she waved her finger in mock-goodbye, before slamming the door shut in his face.

Sebastian was right with his wish however. Katrina slept very well, and dreamt even better that night.

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[carnivorousyandeere]

Werewolf Pack Masterlist

Polyam/Multiple:

Intro:

Intro

Intro Part 2

Character Descriptions and Such

Heights

Ages + Ethnicities

Hana + Mateo Style

Smut:

Mason + Hunter Smut Short

Hunter + Darling + Ace Smut Idea; Hunter Catches Darling + Ace Dirtying the Kitchen

Ace + Darling Dirtying Hunter's Sheets

Ace + Cyrus Sniffing Your Undies

Scenarios/HCs:

So you want to escape…

Trying to Escape Part 2

Driving and Group Vacay HCs

Watching Horror Movies with the Pack

Date Nights with the Pack (Separate and Together)

Cuddle Pile Logistics

Palm Reading + Some Astrology~

Cyrus and Mason in the Mall of America

Hospital Visit

This Place Haunted??

DIY Piercings and Tats

Research Facility AU

Valentine's with Hunter and Ace

Pregnancy/Raising Children

New Pack Coming Around

Types of Darlings:

Hunter with Ace, Mateo, + Brat Darling

Insecure Darling

MILF/MILF Vibes

PILF

Rich

Mason the Sheriff (he/him):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Teasing Mason at Work (Smutty)

Scenarios/HCs:

Watching Horror Movies With Mason

Mason in the Morning

He....

Roleplay

Types of Darlings:

Hunter (he/him):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Hide and Seek (Short Smut)

Chasing Transmasc Darling Through the Woods (Smut)

Scenarios/HCs:

Short HC

Running up to Hunter and Kissing His Face All Over

Hiding in a Tree, Part 2

You Want to Go on a Rollercoaster

Playfighting

Types of Darlings:

Hunter with a Transfem Darling

Hunter with Insecure Darling (Smut)

Bratty Darling, Part 2

Ace the Delinquent (he/him):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Piss Drinking

Masochist (HC)

Stress Relief (gn, Dom Darling)

Scenarios/HCs:

First Choices to Commit Crimes With

Nipple Piercing Woes

Scent HCs

Types of Darlings:

Cyrus the Nerd (he/him):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Embroidery Hobby Gone Sexual (Not Clickbait)

Smut 😌✨

Scenarios/HCs:

Cyrus as a Naga

Types of Darlings:

Hana the Wannabe Girlboss (she/her):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Scenarios/HCs:

Hana + Her Rabbit Plush

Hana Kidnapping Her Darling~

Naga Hana

Meme

Tats

Types of Darlings:

MILF; More MILF

Mateo the Brat (He/her):

Intro:

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Smut:

Scenarios/HCs:

Types of Darlings:

[alpydk]

Tattered Souls

Gale x Rugan - Pining, strangers (mostly) to lovers, angst, romance

So, the part from yesterday and this one already went up on Ao3 but didn't put the rest here, so have the other 1200 words of it. Then I can start posting properly... Currently, at 7000 words. Oops.

Days passed, and the markets of Waterdeep were busy, the perfect location for picking pockets and making an easy bit of gold. Stall owners haggled with the tourists, regular city folk looked for the best deals on fruit and vegetables, and Rugan watched as a young woman opened her purse, taking out a few gold pieces to pay for some overpriced tat which lay on the bench before her. He ignored the ache in his stomach, his last gold piece wasted on the ale at the tavern the night before. He knew it had been a stupid decision, but then he seemed to have been full of them in the recent months since leaving the Sword Coast. Watching the way the purse weighted down at her side, he guessed her to have around twenty gold pieces, maybe a little more, if he was lucky. He sided up next to her, his gaze passing over the trinkets in front of them both, and then, with no hesitation, turned suddenly towards her as he leant over the stall, knowingly bashing into her. “Oh, my apologies, lass. Eyes just aren’t what they used to be.” She looked into his pale blue eyes, his gravelly voice an instant distraction from the way his hand clutched at her purse. “No, it’s quite alright.”

He nodded his head politely, the charming smile working its magic upon her and with it he pulled himself away from her and the vendor, the small bag of gold tucked between his hand and the leather of his belt. He walked away into the crowd of bustling market goers, his mind already working out where to spend the money, what he felt like to eat and, more importantly, drink.

It was as he passed the darkened alley he felt the hand on his arm, warm and firm, pulling him out of the flow of people and into the narrow-sheltered passage between the towering buildings of the city. The gold he’d been counting in his palm was clutched tightly to avoid losing it; more of a worry over where the next coin would come from next rather than the fear that the Zhentarim he’d escaped from had found him.

Rugan felt his body uncomfortably pulled close to that of another, the broad shoulders and grip upon him warning him this was not going to be some nimble prostitute he’d run out on weeks prior. His instincts kicked in, his muscles tensing and holding him firm in position to avoid being captured or beaten. The gold was held tightly as his other hand reached for the steel dagger at his side. The one upon him loosened ever so slightly, an acknowledgement that he was armed and would not be taken so easily, and he breathed a small sigh of relief, trying to back up towards the crowds again.

“Wait.”

Rugan knew the voice, and with it recognised the smell of musty tomes and black coffee, not one he was used to when in so close a proximity to another person. He’d expected one of his former associates, perhaps even the Guild to be after him. What he hadn’t expected as he looked up and focussed through the shadows was to see that of the dark-haired wizard, a navy suit adorned with silver embroidery, standing in the dingy alleyway with a palm resting upon his upper arm. The hand fell from his side and although the stress left him with the knowledge he wouldn’t be captured today, a fleeting sense of loss passed by as he felt the warmth disappear from his body. “The exploding wizard returns. Didn’t think kidnapping was your style, though.”

Gale scoffed at him. “Someone must keep you in check, unless you’ve taken to adorning yourself with women’s purses now?”

A delicate finger was pointed towards the now empty purse, the knowing look, one making Rugan feeling judged for his actions. It was a feeling he was used to over his years of mercenary work, but from Gale, it made him almost feel…guilty. “A gift from a friend, none of your business, that’s for damn sure.”

Gale took a step closer to him, cracks of light shining over his features, his eyes almost glowing as if the Weave danced within and he gave a subtle smile. “So not pilfered from the young lady I saw you with?”

“Even it was; got nothing to do with you.”

Trying to step back a little was met with reflected steps, almost a dance within the confines of the shadows. Rugan halted his steps, Gale halted his, neither wanting the cat and mouse between them to end and yet neither wanting to point out the very clear hollyphant in the room. The air felt charged between them, the silence heavy, and neither moved as they waited for each to take the next step in their unspoken tango.

It was the sound of a woman shouting in the market that drew both from the tension. Rugan pocketed the gold in his palm, turning to look out from the alleyway. He could see the guards in the sunlight, the young woman he had stolen from explaining all she had lost and trying to recount where she’d been previously. It was only a matter of time before she figured out it was him. He considered merging himself into the crowd again and then finding a bar a little further away from the marketplace, possibly a brothel for the night if luck went his way, though it would need to be cheap. The hand on his shoulder pulled him back and the stern voice of Gale drew his senses.

“Give her back the gold and inform her you found her purse in the near vicinity.”

“Or, and this is just an idea, I could not.” Rugan could feel hunger stirring again, his temper fraying the more time he wasted. He wanted to slip into the crowd and vanish again, but something held him back, a whisper in the back of his mind, a longing stirring within that he tried to ignore. “Why did you even grab me anyhow? Was it just to lecture me on the ethics of pick pocketing?”

Gale stood close, his dark eyes reading the situation, knowing that no matter what he said, Rugan wouldn’t hand back that gold taken unless given something else in return. His heart beat a little quicker, a fleeting memory of his control the other night passing through him. “Lecturing is one of my better qualities, I’ll admit, otherwise it was to barter with you. You hand back the gold and I will, with copious amounts of wine, cook for you.”

The guards began to patrol the marketplace looking for anyone suspicious and Rugan knew his chance of getting away without drawing attention had gone. He could feel the rumble of his stomach, the thought of something home cooked and not just cheap salted pork being on the menu, a very tempting choice after so long in murky taverns. He looked over at Gale and sighed. “Just food, little conversation.”

“Of that, you have my good word.”

Pulling the gold from his pocket, he eyed it up one last time, seeing the night of the brothel vanish before his eyes, and slipped it back into the purse. “You better be a decent cook.”

Y al final nada queda por perder Nada queda por saber, ya lo vez La soledad se convertira en tu hogar Y en la calle aprenderas la verdad

Y al final que queda por saber Ya lo vez,lo vez, lo vez

---

And in the end nothing is left to lose Nothing remains to be known, now Solitude will become your home And in the street you will learn the truth

And in the end what remains to be known You see it, you see it, you see it

[the-lights-are-loud]

The Moon

They all had examined the image on the back of the thick, hooded tunic that Del wore when she was cold or particularly stressed. The thin silver thread outlined a quiet scene. A winding and twisting tree with dainty leaves that draped over a calm pond. What they always wondered was what the strange orb that hung above the pond was. Alec’s theory was that it was a lantern.

As Del gathered her notes from their last council meeting, Konrad’s eyes were trained on her back. Alec smirked. This wasn’t the first time he had caught the young king staring at his newly appointed seer.

“Delphie?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” The forced politeness grated on Alec. She was still angry at what had happened the week prior. The irritation was masterfully hidden, but it still radiated off of her in waves that Alec easily picked up on.

“What is...” Konrad sighed and looked back down at the hardwood desk he sat at. “That image...on your...” He gestured to the item of beloved clothing.

“Yes?” Del gave him a concerned look. The fresh scar above her brow quirked up. Since receiving that injury, her expression had become more guarded around his Majesty. A well-deserved expression, in Alec’s opinion.

Konrad swallowed thickly, kingly confidence now fleeing when faced with the mistake of a night of terror. He had become a new person to her. The harsh distrust that he treated her with had melted away following the days since the attack. Alec was secretly proud of the change.

“What is the silver circle on the embroidery supposed to be? Is it a light of some sort?”

The tightness in Del’s jaw melted away, much to both Alec's and Konrad’s relief. She even smiled. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Oh. That’s...That’s the moon.” Del suddenly looked puzzled. “Right...you don’t know what that is.”

“Describe it!” Konrad quickly replied. Alec cracked a large smile at his enthusiasm.

Del sat back down and hummed thoughtfully. “Well...the moon is...maybe I should start with the sky. Your sky is dark and purple all the time. My sky changes. It’s beautiful...and violent and striking... Y’know those glowing rocks and the animals who light up the top of the cave? Well, back home, we have something similar. We call them stars. They are these massive balls of fire, millions of miles away in our sky. They sparkle and brighten the night sky. That’s the sky that is the most like yours.”

Del’s expression was excited yet wistful. Alec was enraptured by the description. Konrad, however, could only see her in each word.

“We have a big star, that’s the one that changes the sky. It’s the closest to us. When you go outside, it feels like you’re sitting by the fire. Warm and inviting. But it’s powerful too. I get burned every summer. My skin turns pink all over where it sees the sun. It’s breathtaking...”

She quieted down and blinked rapidly, almost in surprise. Her breathing was shaky and her cheeks became rosy with emotion. Alec perked up at the signs of emotional distress and was prepared to lead her out of the room if needed.

The worried expression was the first thing that Alec noticed on Konrad’s face. Then the way his hand enveloped hers.

The seer stared at the king’s large hand surrounding hers. Her watery eyes dried before she swallowed and pulled her hand away.

“R-right, the moon. So the moon is this massive stone in the sky that reflects the light of the sun.”

Alec noticed the bitter embarrassment in Konrad’s demeanor. Del looked uncomfortable and strained. Her hands quietly tucked themselves away into her pockets.

“When it is full, um, when it completely reflects the sun like a silver mirror...” Del rubbed the back of her neck before gathering up her notes once again and standing.

The tension in the room was soon directed at Alec once she left.

“Your Majesty, you’re an idiot if you don’t apologize soon.”