#that’s the tag I’m using for my slender au

[canidaria]

POV you and your cousin who is autistic abt ghostbusters are looking for ghosts (you’re abt to find slenderman)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[charmandabear]

No Sandra Dee

Summary:

One quick little lie to your parents, and you and your hot vampire greaser boyfriend have the entire night to yourselves.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: reader is in high school but age isn't specified, reckless driving, 1950s greaser au, loss of virginity/innocence, vaginal fingering, piv sex, blood drinking, degredation if you squint, rough sex if you squint, praise kink if you squint, reader is a bit of a needy slut (affectionate)

I tell you the way this idea grabbed me by the collar and shoved me up against a locker and told me to give it my lunch money... I wrote it over the course of a few hours and it refused to let me go until I finished. I saw dovah_vakarian's Greaser Astarion and with some egging on from the lovely folks in the Rabid House server (join if you want a good hang) this little ditty was born. No thoughts, just greaser Astarion. (Dovah was kind enough to let me use their render for the cover photo are you SEEING IT? Are you KIDDING ME? Go give them a follow, right fucking now.)

Read on AO3

“Alright, Ma, Pa, I’m off to Suzie’s for the night!” Your heart is pounding in your ears as you shout the lie, and you can only hope it’s not in your voice, too. 

“Alright dear, have fun! Don’t forget to remind Mr. and Mrs. Johnson about the church potluck on Sunday!” your mother calls back, and without another word you slip out the front door and into the cool night air. You adjust your poodle skirt and bound down the front steps of your home, turning down the street where he’s waiting. He looks like an absolute treat, too, leaning against his shiny black convertible, the collar of his leather jacket popped, cigarette held delicately between long slender fingers. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of those fingers. You know better than anyone what they’re capable of.

“Darling,” he greets you with that adorable foreign lilt of his. You can already feel your cheeks beginning to flush as he looks you up and down, sizing you up like a piece of meat. “Ready to leave?”

You nod vigorously. “Ma and Pa think I’m at Suzie’s, and she has strict instructions for what to say if they call.” Your mouth grows dry at the sight of his devastating smile.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, running a knuckle down your jaw and under your chin. He takes one last drag off his cigarette and drops it, grinding it into the pavement with the heel of his boot. He breathes out the cloud of smoke that obscures his features, and you inhale instinctively. The acrid smell is one that you used to absolutely hate, but now that you’re starting to associate it with him, it sends a little thrill down your spine every time. He slides into the driver’s seat and you throw your overnight bag in the back. 

“So, Astarion, where are we going?” You try to keep your tone light, but the quaver in your voice gives away your nervous excitement. He slides his red eyes over to you and a mischievous smile plays on his lips as he revs up the t-bird’s loud engine.

“Can’t some things remain a surprise?” he says slyly, and the sultry tone of his voice makes you unconsciously lick your lips. You keep your hands in your lap as he fiddles with the radio, and soon the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole fill the car. 

It’s not long before he’s speeding down the highway, and you haven’t the faintest clue where he could possibly be taking you. He pulls out the cigarette from behind his ear and pops it into his mouth.

“Sweetheart, can you grab my lighter? It’s in the pocket of my jeans,” he mumbles around the cigarette, and you glance nervously at the tight denim on his hips.

“Um, sure, just keep your eyes on the road,” you say automatically, feeling like you could kick yourself for sounding like such a square. But he just chuckles as you lean over and wiggle your fingers into his pocket. You can smell his cologne from here, a heady spiced smell that makes your chest ache. After a bit of struggling, you pull the zippo out from his pocket and flip it open for him to light his cigarette. You assume he’s going to let you bring the flame to him, but instead he fully turns his head toward you, red eyes boring into yours as you light it. 

“Astarion, careful,” you hiss nervously, your fingers shaking as you try to light the cigarette as quickly as possible. There isn’t another car in sight, but you’ve heard too many stories of reckless joyrides turning fatal.

He takes a puff and laughs, a cool, velvety sound. Your eyes trace his profile, his perfect nose and jawline, and the two small puncture wounds on his neck. You’ve fooled around with him a bit before, but you’ve never gone all the way. And you’ve always been morbidly curious about what it would be like for him to bite you. His eyes flick towards you and you flush, feeling like you’ve been caught. 

“Someone is having naughty thoughts,” he sings, and a timid giggle bubbles out of your lips. 

“What?” you squeak, and then clear your throat to try to sound more cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so?” He takes a hand off the steering wheel and gently runs his fingers down the side of your neck, and you can’t suppress the moan his touch elicits. “So you’re not thinking about…” His hand continues its journey downward and stops right at your breast, fondling lightly over your sweater. You bite your lip as he squeezes the flesh, and even through the two layers of wool and satin, your nipples grow stiff with arousal. He pinches it between his fingers and you need to press your thighs together. You can already feel the cotton gusset of your panties growing wet, and with his heightened sense of smell, he knows it, too. 

“A-Astarion, eyes on the r-road,” you stammer, but he just grins wickedly before pressing his foot down on the gas, inching up dangerously over the speed limit. 

“Darling, I promise I won’t take my eyes off the road for a second,” he says with a wicked grin, lit cigarette bouncing with every word. He keeps his promise, but his hand continues to wander southward, brushing against your thigh. You squirm and whimper, simultaneously desperate for his touch and wanting him to stop. You wrestle with your conflicting desires for a moment, before temptation wins and you let your knees fall open for him. “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs as he pulls up the hem of your skirt, and even you can smell the debauchery wafting from between your legs. 

“Just please,” you whine as his fingers skate across your inner thigh, teasing you mercilessly.

“Please what, darling?” His voice is infuriatingly innocent while he’s making the dirtiest thoughts run through your mind.

“Please be careful,” you plead, your hips bucking forward to chase his touch. He steps on the gas again, increasing the speed even more. Your heart begins to pound loudly, and you can’t tell if it’s from hurtling down the highway or his fingers dancing just outside your panties.

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I can do both,” he pouts as the pad of his thumb runs up the length of your slit, and you grip the bar on the door as a moan escapes your lips. He begins to retract his hand and slows the car down slightly, causing you to whine instinctually in protest. “So love, which will it be?”

You stare in horror at your beautiful vampire boyfriend’s face. He doesn’t have the same stakes as you, he’d be able to walk away from a car wreck just fine, but you, not so much. But your cunt is aching from his relentless teasing, and your judgment is clouded with lust.

“Just… quickly, please,” you whine, and his lips stretch wide into a satisfied grin. He slams his foot down on the gas pedal as his fingers return to your soaked panties, tearing an unseemly groan from your throat. He pushes the gusset aside and slides his fingers along your slick folds as you grip the seat. You have no idea if your primary emotion is fear or arousal, but either way it's exhilarating.

“So wet, you dirty girl,” he tuts, and you can only cant your hips into his hand in response. “If only Ma and Pa could see their darling daughter now.” He inserts a slender digit and you push a saddle shoe against the dashboard to brace yourself.

“Ah- ‘starion,” you moan, your knuckles beginning to turn white from how hard you're clutching the leather seat. He pumps his finger lazily, still looking at the dark road ahead as it flies by. 

“What would Pastor Tom say if he knew you were getting fingered by your greaser boyfriend in the front seat of his t-bird.” He punctuates the filthy statement by inserting another digit, and you squirm into his hand needily. “Such a perfect little slut for me.” He curls his fingers and palms your clit, and you rock back and forth in the seat trying to push yourself down on him deeper.

“Please, ‘starion, I need more,” you pant and you catch the speedometer breaching 100 mph as he increases the pace of his fingers. He uses the heel of his hand to rub against your clit and you can feel your orgasm building deep in your core. “Yes, please, just like that.”

“My filthy girl, so good for me,” he praises you as you whimper and moan, and you grip his wrist to control his touch. You buck desperately against him, and your hand not holding his begins to pinch and fondle your breast, chasing your pleasure. “You hungry little slut, you can’t get enough, can you?”

You’re so close, and through your half-lidded eyes you see Astarion take his other hand off the steering wheel to take a drag on his cigarette. You cry out in both horror and pleasure as you crash over the edge, fucking yourself on his hand and gripping the back of the seat. Ripples of pleasure reverberate through your body offset by your heart pounding in fear. As the waves subside, Astarion pulls his fingers out and you can feel the car slowing. You’re still breathing heavily as he pulls off at an exit, driving deeper into the woods. 

As soon as the car rolls to a stop, he growls, “Get out,” as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray. You scramble out of the car and before you can get your bearings he’s got you pushed up against the trunk of the car, kissing you forcefully. You paw wantonly at his neck, just barely keeping up.

“Please, defile me,” you groan as he pushes his bulge into your mound. You slide your fingers into his curls and guide his mouth towards your neck. “Bite me, Astarion.”

“What a disappointment you are to your parents,” he grunts into your ear before sinking his fangs into your jugular. The pain is exactly as exquisite as you had imagined, like icy shards that melt into a warm serenity. He takes deep gulps of your blood, and with each swig his erection grows harder against you. You grind into him, desperate to know what it’s like to feel him inside you.

He pulls away from your neck all too soon, but it’s worth it to see him panting, hair disheveled, and a monstrous bloody grin on his face. “Turn around,” he snarls, but before you can comply he’s grabbed you roughly by the waist and done it for you. He bends you over the trunk and rucks your poodle skirt up to your waist. It doesn’t take him long to pull himself out of his jeans, his cock hard and glistening. You try to turn around to see it but he grabs a hold of your ponytail, keeping your head firmly forward. 

“P-please, Astarion, I need it,” you beg, standing on your toes as you present your throbbing cunt to him. He pushes your panties to the side and aligns himself with your entrance, teasing it lightly with the head of his cock.

“Their perfect little cheerleader with the perfect grades,” he growls and you can only mewl helplessly in response. He pushes into you and you both groan, the sound mixing amongst the ambience of the forest. “You’re all mine, now,” he hisses as he bottoms out, and you claw at the shiny surface of his car. He shoves your face against the cold metal and begins to thrust into you. You cry out with every stretch, the mixture of pain and pleasure becoming quickly overwhelming. 

“Harder, Astarion,” you grunt and he yanks your ponytail back further, stretching out your neck and forcing you to look at him above and behind you. He obliges your request, pounding you into the car forcefully. His face contorts with pleasure as he slides in and out of your tight cunt, and you can already feel yourself building up to a second orgasm. You push yourself back into him, desperate to feel more, when suddenly he pulls out and you whimper from sudden emptiness. But before you can protest, he forcefully turns you around again and shoves himself back into you.

“I want to see your face when I make you cum,” he growls, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him in closer. You grab onto the back of his leather jacket as he fucks you mercilessly against the back of his car. 

“Please, Astarion,” you whimper, each thrust of his cock pushing your breath out of you. “Please don’t stop.” His rutting hips begin to grow uneven, he pounds into you a few more times before you feel the pulsing of his cock against your walls. His face in the throws of passion, his mouth still slightly bloody and his hair falling into his eyes are enough to set off your second climax. You don’t hold anything back, your cries mixed with swears and his name repeated over and over echoing off the trees.

You cling to the back of his neck as you both slow, taking your time to regain control over your breathing. Eventually he pulls out and sets you back down onto your feet. Your legs quake and he laughs as you need to grab his arms to stay steady.

“You said you wanted to be defiled,” he concedes, and you pull him into a comparatively chaste kiss.

“My parents don’t expect me home until morning,” you hum against his lips, “and I can think of a few more ways to defile me until then.”

[crushedsweets]

SUCKER'S FAQ

i'll add onto this as needed! updated 8/14/24

GENERAL

What do you use for your timeline? miro.com!

What do you use for your website? google sites!

Will you be adding new characters to Creeped? as of right now, nope!

Can I draw/use your AU/designs as inspo? YAH!!! but if u draw anything... u should show me after :3

Can I be (insert emoji) anon? yes! but i dont keep very good track of my emoji anons... so there might be a double..... LOL

Do you do commissions/art trades? No I’m sorry!!! At most I'll occasionally do a request, but no promises!

How do you feel about shipping with your designs/versions/OCs?Fine w/ it EXCEPT for Bonnie! She's a self insert so its kinda awkward LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

CREEPED SPECIFIC

What is your au? Quick tumblr explanation here + my website here!

What is everyone's birthday/ages? link here + timelines!

What is O/S syndrome? Basically slender sickness, but I named it 'Operator/Slender syndrome' cuz it sounds and fits my lore better! Someone has to be infected by the Operator FIRST, and then Slendy takes over!

What are zalgoids? explanation here! Powers/weapons? link here!

What is everyones ethnicities/races/nationalities? link here!

Do you have faceclaims? Nope!

Throwing in their designs/heights cuz i think that's relevant too, even if people dont ask for them.. LMAO

my creeped tag is the best place to find miscellaneous info on my AU, but theres like 150 posts so if you genuinely cant find something, dont be afraid to ask!

[resowrites]

Bell Ringers - oneshot.

Summary: Henry’s taken aback by a surprise revelation…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, dialogue heavy, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1230

A/N: *Sigh* Let’s see if this one manages to stay under tags lol If not then enjoy while you can!

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Bell Ringers - oneshot.

“Oh bollocks and arse.” Henry lowered the PC back onto the desk and stood observing it for a moment. “Well there’s nothing for it, I shall have to fetch Lady Cavill.” He plodded into the hallway, turning his head from side to side. “Ollie? Ollieee... where is she? Ollieeeeee...” Still no reply. “MRS CAVILLLLLL!” A minute or two later he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hark, a woman draws near...”

“What you foghorn?! I was upstairs making up the bloody bed. And Mrs. Cavill’s your mum.”

“… Oh yeah, I never thought of that. And no you weren’t, you’re eating crisps.”

“I was taking a break.” Henry laughed.

“Well now I require your assistance.” He swept his arms toward the den.

“For what? Henry, I don’t have time for any naughtiness—”

“No, no naughtiness, though it’s a task of equal importance—”

“I can guarantee it isn’t. Now be gone, I still haven’t started dinner—”

“Alarming though that is, I really do need your help.” She groaned as Henry led her by the hand and into the den. 

“… Why’s your PC on its side? Did you slam a door too hard?”

“No, it went kaput while I was gaming so I tipped it forward to have a look at the wiring and a cable’s slipped down one of the shafts. I need you to try and fish it out.”

“What? Why? You’ve got small enough hands, you do it—”

“Whoa, hang on… did you just say I have small hands?” She stopped still, blinking at him.

“Well, not small exactly. More... slender.” Henry’s mouth fell open.

“Slender?!”

“Mmm.” She shoved a thick stack of crisps into her mouth.

“I... I don’t believe this...”

“I mean to be fair, the rest of you is rather large… so that doesn’t help—”

“No, don’t backtrack, have you always felt this way? Or did someone point it out to you?!”

“… I think the better question is how do you not know the answer to that?” His eyebrows almost hit the ceiling.

“Are you being serious?!”

“Oh for God’s sake, they’re not sideshow small—”

“No, just small enough for you to avoid saying anything for nearly ten years!”

“Well I didn’t want to rub it in.”

“Right, well thanks for all your help, don’t worry about dinner.” Henry picked up a screwdriver and began to undo the casing.

“Wow, are you that upset? Well I can’t leave you to starve, here have some Frazzles…” She held out the bag of crisps. “There we are, stick your little fingers in there.” He let the tool clatter onto the table.

“Okay, apologise please.”

“For what?”

“For this affront to my manhood.” She clucked her tongue. “No, I mean it. You have before you a man so masculine he could even impregnate himself, and all you can do is make blithe statements.”

“Do manly men say ‘blithe?’” Henry pursed his lips. “And I don’t know that fiddling with a computer best illustrates your point…”

“I’m not fiddling with it—”

“No… more like tinkering.” He tried to wipe the smile from his face.

“Say sorry.”

“No, you didn’t hesitate to tell me I’ve got a big arse, so why should I? Although now that I think of it, it probably just feels bigger cos you can’t get a proper grip.”

“Well carry on and it’ll be getting a smack.”

“Except I won’t really feel it will I?”

“Yes you will. Trust me.”

“Nah. It’ll be more like a slight pinch… which is fine as I’m used to a tiny prick.”

“Alright, out. Now.” 

“Why? You said you wanted my help?!” 

“Not anymore. Off you fuck.” Henry signalled towards the door.

“What? Are you pointing at something? I can’t tell.” He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Oh darling, it’s really just a matter of perspective. I mean, if you took up the piano you could get really good...”

“Mm-hmm. If you’re gunna stick around hand me that duct tape.”

“What for?”

“Your gob. And this wire, come hold it for me.” She dutifully obliged, taking her time to look over his features.

“What? What flaws have you discovered now?”

“Were you after a list?” Henry tutted. “You know you really are making a fuss over nothing. You’ve got plenty of role models. What’s that Paul Newman film? Small Hand Luke?” He sighed.

“It’s Cool Hand Luke. Right, let me just align the casing and we’ll see if this bloody thing turns on.” 

“Righty-ho. Use both hands.” 

“Ollie, that’s your last warning.”

“Or what?”

“Okay, you asked for it.” Henry finished tightening the last screw and stood back to admire his handiwork. 

“… Oh my God, am I trapped in here? I can’t get my hand out!”

“Oh, that’s odd. Tell me, can you see these now?” He stuck two fingers up at her.

“Henry, let me out please—“

“Nope.” He pilfered the pack of crisps off the desk and made for the door.

“Wait! If you don’t let me out, who’s gunna do dinner?” Henry shrugged.

“I’ll get pizza.”

“But what about me?!”

“Well if you’re good I’ll bring you the crusts.” She sighed. “You could, of course, just apologise…”

“Never.”

“Nighty night, then.” Once again he headed for the door, this time stopping to turn off the light.

“HENRY!”

“What?”

“Don’t leave.” 

“Why not?” Henry still hadn't turned the light back on and all she could hear was him munching away in the dark.

“… Cos it’s scary.” He chuckled.

“Then say sorry.”

“Okay, just turn the sodding light back on and let me out!” Henry did as he was told, though he held down the casing once it was finally unscrewed.

“Well?” She sighed again. “Come on, I know you’ve got it in you. Dig deep.”

“… I’m sorry Henry.”

“For what?”

“For making the observation—“

“Nope. Try again.”

“For saying you have small hands. Though true, it wasn’t my place to point it out.” He shook his head and began screwing the casing back in place.

“Okay, okay… you’re right. Size is subjective.”

“Yes, but we both agree my hands are massive, both in proportion to my body and generally speaking. As are my cock and brains. Correct?” She pursed her lips.

“… What about your balls?”

“Ollie—”

“Can’t we just meet halfway and say average?” 

“No, cos that would be untruthful.”

“Fine. Just let me out.”

“Ah-ah. Apologise one last time. God knows when I’ll get to hear it again.” She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry…” Henry smiled and finally released her. “That you’re small.” She tried to dart around him, but he was too quick and lifted her into his arms. “PUT ME DOWN KNOBHEADDD.”

“Nope. Come on now, don’t wriggle! Stop, stop, stop. Shhh, you’re not getting away!” Though she certainly tried. “Shush now, there we are,” Henry rocked her gently back and forth, “if you needed attention all you had to do was ask for it.” She gritted her teeth.

“Henry I will bite you.”

“No you won’t. Gimme a kiss and I’ll let go.” She wriggled harder and managed to get one foot on the floor. Eventually, she wrestled free.

“Ha! You can’t even handle me with two hands!” She staggered her way to the door, breathless but triumphant. “Oh, and your feet are small too.” Moments later he was carrying her over his shoulders. 

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@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69

[mauvecherie-writes]

Roses Can Be Pink.

pairing: Rue Bennett x Black FOC!Monique.

Euphoria AU.

summary: parties can be fun with the right person.

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, wlw, euphoria AU, rue is over 21, rue is in recovery, instant connections, fingering, oral sex, mention of toys.

notes: this is the first time I’ve written queer content in a long, long time so when I say I’m RUSTY, I mean it! This one is dedicated to my best girl @melodicheauxxo I love you and I hope you love it!

word count: 1.8K

tip jar 💕 taglist 💕

“Aren’t you glad you came to the party? You’re having fun aren’t you.” Your friend, Sammie

gloats as she hands you a glass of wine spritz. You roll your eyes trying to refuse a smile from spreading across your face. You gently shrug your shoulders before bringing your glass close to your mouth.

“It’s aight, don’t get too big headed. I could leave any time to go enjoy Bob’s Burgers.” You say before taking a sip of your drink, the cool liquid soothing your throat. She rolls her eyes before linking her arm with yours and pulling you the rest of the people away from the kitchen.

It was more of a kickback than an outright party with some old college buddies. It’s been over a year since graduating from film school and you have been working in the industry since, doing what you love and you met most of the people here through college except for your best friend - who was currently dragging you to meet some new people.

Entering the room, there’s a few people already inside with an anime you’re unfamiliar with playing on the tv as they huddled close as they played UNO.

“Hey guys!” Sammie breaks their concentration and brings it to you guys as you stand underneath the door frame. There’s one person who immediately draws your attention though. Their honey brown curls unruly but they fall perfectly around her face and rest on her shoulders. Her eyes trail down your body as she leans back into the couch. They come back to your face and a smile is hidden behind her cup as you bashfully break eye contact and squirm beside Sammie.

“This is my best friend Monique! She finally left her house and grace us with her presence.”

“I’m not that bad.” You nudge her shoulder. “I’ve been busy.” You defend yourself with a smile and a roll of your eyes - a habit you happen to always do around her. You love Sammie and it’s not like you were avoiding her on purpose but her parties (parties in general) always overwhelm you so typically just stay away from them.

“Whatever!” She replies before she smiles, taking your hand and sitting you close to the woman you had been eyeing up. The warmth of your blush still tainting your cheeks. You’re a little tense but you take in her soft yet musky scent as you try to lean back into the couch.

“Please keep my friend entertained and comfortable. I’ll be back for her later.” Sammie winked at you before leaving you with the small group. You’re not a shy person so the introductions are swift and quick but the lady sitting beside you is causing your nervousness to spike which isn’t normal.

What’s worse, you think she can notice the affect she’s having on you.

“I’m Rue.” Her voice is soft and melodious. It’s kind of low in pitch but it suits her perfectly. You scold yourself for thinking too much about how her voice sounds but you can’t help it but the instant attraction is wrecking you.

“Nice to meet you.” You shake her hand that was in front of her. Like her voice, her skin is so soft, her fingers are long and slender but her nails are neatly trimmed, painted black. Absentmindedly you lick your lips thinking about her fingers and god you’re such a creep, you’ve just met her and your mind is already going there.

Fortunately the rest of the night, things go really well. The conversation flows so naturally between the two of you that you couldn’t believe you’ve only met today. She’s a friend of Maddy’s who works with Sammie and have been since childhood really and in not so many words, she had let you know that she wasn’t much of a drinker anymore due to previous substance issues from her past. She had been sipping on cranberry and blackberry juice all night as to not draw attention to herself. People were nosy and if they saw her drinking from a red solo cup, she knew no one was going to ask questions.

At some point of the night, you decide to give Rue a tour of your friend’s house finally reaching the guest room that’s your designated room wherever you slept over.

“So what made you choose film?” Rue asks you as you guys had settled on the floor, rolling a ball to each other as the muffled music from the party filtered into your room.

“I love the arts you know? I live for them. They’ve changed and influenced my life and I just felt like I want to be a part of that you know? Like being a part of something that influence change and be positive in someone’s life is a great deal.” As you speak so passionately you could feel her eyes on you which doesn’t stop the feelings she’s enticing within you. It was so strange to get such a visceral reaction to Rue and for the most part, the last few hours have been heavenly.

“Why are you staring at me.” You whisper. You chew on your bottom lip as you let your body fall to one side.

“I like watching you talk.” Rue answers candidly. “You become really animated and there’s this glow to you that makes you more attractive than I already think you are.”

You hold onto your cheeks as your shoulders pull up bashfully.

“Don’t get shy on me.” Rue licks her lips as she pulls your hands away from your face. You still turn your head away from her but with her fingers, she directs your gaze back onto hers. Rue’s eyes are sparkling in the dark as you bear into each other’s souls. The connection that you’re feeling towards her could not be denied.

“Do you feel that?” She asks as she intertwines your fingers with hers, pulling you closer to her body. You shift your bodies so that your legs are overlapping each other and the warmth of your core is radiating onto her thigh.

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I thought I was going a little crazy but I feel so … good around you, it’s insane.” Rue chuckles at your response as she cups your chubby cheeks and rubs your skin with the pad of her thumbs.

“Can I kiss you Monique? I really, really want to kiss you.”

“Yes. Please.” You breathe out before you can utter something else, her lips are on yours. Your stomach erupts in a fever of flatters, nervousness swimming in your veins as your eyes close as your softly kiss her back. However, as the kiss deepens, the lesser you were nervous and enjoyed the kiss. Slow and passionate, in no rush whatsoever and it makes you feel desired. Your hands trail down from the back of her neck to her waist and you pull on her tighter, wanting to feel more of her.

Her tongue swirls around yours which sends a shiver down your spine and your cunt clenches around nothing as your arousal sparks your body into a frenzy of need, a need Rue easily picks up on.

“Lay down.” She whispers to you and you follow the instruction without hesitation. Rue brings your legs to your waist, caressing your thighs as she hovers above you.

“Can I go on?” She asks and you inaudibly nod your head. You’re quiet as she strips your trousers and panties away from your body. “Fuck. I knew your pussy would be so beautiful.” She rasps as her hands travel back up your thighs and her thumbs part your heated core. A shiver runs down your spine as your cunt aches, you wanted more, you anticipate the next move. Rue slides the straps of your cami top down until your breasts are exposed.

Her long fingers tease and pinch your nipples which causes you to squirm. Begging for attention, Rue leans forward and wraps her lips around your areola and shoves two fingers into your cunt. Your gasp at the intrusion is loud but you welcome her finger nonetheless.

“You’re so tight.” Rue mumbles against your chest as you whimper and roll your hips. Her fingers move a bit faster, the sound of your wetness beginning to echo within the confines of your room. Your self control was slowly beginning to slip as Rue fucks you nice and hard with her fingers to the point of orgasm.

“What!-.” You exclaim as Rue suddenly withdraw her fingers from your pussy.

“I need to taste you.” She whispers before she brings her drenched fingers to her mouth. Rue sucks on her digits feverishly which turns you even more. She drops her fingers away from her mouth before she quickly shifts so that her face is hovering closer to your pussy. You try and look down at Rue but with her fingers tracing the opening of your pussy, your head falls back and your eyes close shut.

“Rue, I need you. Please.” You beg.

“Don’t worry baby, I got you.” With that, she wraps her lips around your clit which causes a loud moan to ring out from you. Her tongue is warm as she laps at your cunt.

It had been a while for you but the way Rue was making you feel, wreaked your brain but you didn’t focus on it too much as you ride her face with abandon. She’s eating you so good and you were losing your breath trying to keep up with her pace. Rue rolls her tongue around your clit over and over again before pushing her fingers back into your pussy and stroking your g-spot with hoe she curled her digits.

“Oh shit! I’m gonna cum!” Your hips are rolling to the pace of her fingers thrusting in and out of you. You fear suffocating her but your high is creeping near as you focus on your orgasm. A third finger is introduced which causes you to cry out even louder. You’re desperate now and you can’t stop yourself as you use her to reach your climax. The stretch of her fingers deepen your cunt and her tongue on your clit is sending you into overdrive.

Your release slams against you full force and your thighs threaten to close around her head but Rue keeps them from collapsing around her head by pressing one of your thighs down with her arm. She doesn’t pull away from you as she continues to lick you clean.

Your body trembles with aftershocks of pleasure as Rue finally moves away from your pussy and trails her lips back up your body. She captures your mouth and you moan softly tasting yourself on her lips. The kiss moves slow and sweet with your tongues clashing against each other as your core begs for more.

“You got any toys I can use on you in here?” Rue asks you which causes your cheeks to warm in slight embarrassment.

“Yeah.” You admit.

“Bring them out, I’m not done with you just yet.” Rue whispers. “Want to explore every part of you.”

@dhlfastestlap @queenshikongo3 @kindan3rdy951 @ricciardosheart @lewiscrown @sarah-ev @mercedesjpg @playgurlxoxo @scorpiobleue @leilaxaliel @amorestevens @nomnombibblenibble @honey-prinxess @ohkapten @aisharmi @bahatibloom @chaneajoyyy @melodicheauxxo @olyvoyl @paradisehamilton @lewisthot @mimihopie @blowmymbackout @write-fromthe-start

[vodika-vibes]

Trials of the Goddess

Summary: It's been over a year since the eternal winter has been broken on Pabu, and you've finally adjusted to the new normal. Unfortunately, there are some things about Pabu that Crosshair doesn't know about.

Pairing: Merc!Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: 5366

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: The most recent installment of my Magic and Knights AU. I've never written Crosshair before, well, not a lot of Crosshair, but I like to think I sort of know what I'm doing now, lol.

Divider by Saradika

It’s been over a year since the curse of Eternal Winter was broken over Pabu, and slowly life has returned to normal. Or, as normal as it could be since there are so few people who remember what life was like before the Winter Queen.

But things have returned to normal. 

Though you’re not sure you’re a big fan of this new normal.

Oh, you definitely don’t miss the snow and the cold. You much prefer the tropical weather, and the fact that it never gets cold anymore. You also greatly enjoyed donating all of your cold weather clothes to more northern nations that needed them.

And you really, really enjoy being able to have a wardrobe that's mostly swimsuits, shorts, tank tops, and sundresses. 

The cons are that you eat so much fish now. So much. It’s awful. Almost every meal has some sort of fish, and you’re so tired of fish. Also, you hate having to repair the fishing nets.

At least the ones your family uses are made of rope, though that does mean that you’re repairing them weekly. And you’re talented enough with net repair, that the neighbors have started paying you to repair theirs as well.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, if it wasn’t for the fact that one of your neighbors uses wire in his fishing nets, and the wire has cut your fingers to shreds.

You scowl at your bandage covered fingers, and then shake your head, “I’m heading out!” You call over your shoulder to your family.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Your older cousin asks gleefully, “It’ll be fun!”

“No thanks.” You reply as you make a face, “Have fun though.” You wave at your extended family, and then hurry out of the house before someone can come up with some reason you should go fishing with them.

As soon as you’re on the street you veer left, and follow the walkway to a small set of wooden stairs that lead up the cliffside. You kick off your sandals, and pick them up, before you run up the stairs. 

At the top of the stairs you follow the trail for about a mile, and then you step over a small stone wall and follow a path that you only know about because you know the man you’re meeting.

You duck under a fallen tree, and grin when you see a hammock stretched between two trees. A hammock with a slender man with silver hair laying on it. You hurry over to him, not bothering to try and make yourself sneaky. 

You lean over the hammock and grin at him, “Found you~” You say in a singsong voice.

He doesn’t bother to open his eyes, but he does roll his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, “It’s not like I was hiding from you.” Crosshair replies dryly, and then he pulls his toothpick from his mouth and flicks it at you, “You’re in my sun, sweetheart.”

You make a disgusted face as his toothpick bounces off your cheek, “There is no sun, Cross. You’re surrounded by trees.”

He sighs, “You know, I came up here to be alone.”

“Great! I’ll be alone with you!” You counter cheerfully, that finally makes him open his eyes, and he pins you with a glare.

“You’re incredibly annoying, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” You reply, before you lightly grip his arm and tug, “Now, come on!”

“What? No. I don’t want to go anywhere,” Crosshair grumbles as he settles more firmly in the hammock, and slips a new toothpick into his mouth.

“But Cross,” You lean over him and pout, “They finally reopened the stairs to the Lookout!”

“Don’t care.”

You pout even more and he just closes his eyes, “If you want to go to the Lookout, then go. Don’t get me involved.”

You huff and reach out to poke his cheek, “I bet Tech would go with me.” You say.

“I recognize that you’re trying to manipulate me, and it’s not going to work, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Then I’m going to go get Tech. Right now. Here I gooo-” You say cheerfully, as you spin on your heel and start walking away.

You don’t even get three steps before you hear the hammock creak loudly, and his hand wraps tightly around your wrist. He tugs you back against his chest and you muffle a laugh when you feel his breath against your ear, “You’re such a fucking pain, kitten.” He grumbles, “Put your damned shoes on, the steps up to the lookout are stone.”

“Aww, I thought you said I couldn’t manipulate you,” You tease as you tilt your head to look at him.

He rolls his eyes and reaches out to flick your nose, “I’m saving you from having to spend an afternoon listening to my twin. You should be thanking me.”

You laugh, “Oh, my hero~”

“Yeah, yeah. Shoes, sweetheart.”

You grin at him and drop your sandals to the ground, before you slide them on, “There. Shoes.”

“Those aren’t shoes. They’re deathtraps.”

“You’re just grumpy that I’m making you walk.” You reply, “I think they make my legs look amazing. What do you think?”

Crosshair sighs, as though you’re asking him for a huge favor, and he takes a step back to stare at your legs. “Hm…” He tilts his head, and drags his gaze down your legs, and then back up, “Not bad. Maybe if you had some heels-”

You bump him with your shoulder, “Maybe you should wear some heels,” You grumble good naturedly, before you skip ahead of him, forcing him to take several long strides to keep up with you. 

“I thought we were going to the lookout together,” Crosshair chides as he flings his arm over your shoulder.

“We are! But you’re so slow-” You yelp when he tugs you and you stumble for a moment, “Mean! Mean Crosshair!”

“Not my fault that you don’t know how to walk, sweetheart.” He counters as he moves to walk in front of you, and he smirks at you over his shoulder, “Keep up, why are you walking so slow?”

You pout at his back, and jog over to him so you’re able to wrap your arms around one of his. He grumbles a little, but doesn’t shake you off, which you take as a win.

It’s not a far walk to the stairs leading to the lookout, and you frown when you see the stairs. Like Crosshair said earlier, they are made out of stone, but there’s no railing.

“Worried about falling, kitten?” He asks in your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Of course not,” You shoot him a bemused look, “I’m with you, after all.”

He blinks at you, slowly, and then he huffs and tugs on some of your hair, “Disgusting. That’s the grossest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You’re so dramatic,” You reply as you tug him over to the stairs and start to climb them.

“You know I can leave right?” He points out, as he climbs the stairs behind you. 

“But we’re already here!” You say cheerfully as you bounce from the stairs onto the landing at the top of the stairs, “The Lookout!” You spread your arms wide, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Why’s this place so great anyway?” He asks.

“Because-” You take his arm and pull him away from the edges of the cliff, and further inland, “There’s a lake.”

“Pabu is literally a peninsula. There’s water everywhere.” Crosshair replies.

“But this is special water!” You lead him further in, until you come to a crystalline lake. It’s peaceful, and there, in the center of the lake, on a small man-made island, is a massive statue of a woman. “Ta-dah!”

Crosshair looks around, and then he sighs, “Alright. I’ll bite. What’s with the statue?”

“Hm?” You turn and look at the statue, “Oh, right. It’s a Goddess of Love.”

“A goddess,” He repeats, deadpan, “of love.”

“Yep.” You tug him over to the shore, and then sit down on the white sand. You take a moment to pull your sandals off and then bury your feet. “The story goes that a pair of lovers came up here to meet up in secret, against the wishes of their families.” You explain, “And the goddess was so moved by their devotion, she gave them the chance to prove their love to each other, and her, by giving them a series of trials.”

“Lame.”

You glare at him and fling a handful of seaweed at him, “Not lame! Romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m not about to let anyone, let alone a goddess who doesn’t exist, determine if my love is real or not.” Crosshair flicks the second toothpick of the day at you, and you squawk indignantly as it lands in your hair.

You flick the toothpick away from you, once you pick it out of your hair, “Come on, Cross. It is romantic! Sticking together through thick and thin, proving your love-”

“It isn’t romantic.” He says the word like it’s a curse and you don’t bother to muffle your laugh, “It’s condescending at best.”

“I think it’s romantic,” You reply.

“Yeah, until you’re the one having to prove your love to someone who doesn’t know you.” 

You roll your eyes at him, and reach up to tug him down onto the sand next to you, “Will you stop being a grouch for 10 minutes and just enjoy the atmosphere with me?”

“I suppose it is kind of nice that there’s no one around,” Crosshair admits after he folds himself, gracelessly, on the sand next to you.

“See, I told you-”

“It means that I can do this,” He adds with a small smirk as he leans in and steals a quick kiss, before he pulls away and settles comfortably on the sand.

You squeak, and then scramble to your knees, “No! Wait! I wasn’t ready!”

“You snooze, you lose, kitten.” He replies.

You fling your arms around his neck, “but Cross, don’t you want a kiss too?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Wha-” You’re unable to finish your word when there’s a loud crash of thunder, causing you to flinch against him. 

Crosshair straightens, and he taps your arm twice, causing you to drop them to your side. His sharp gaze is locked on the island with the statue. “Time to go, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” You push yourself to your feet, only to yelp as the ground gives way beneath you, and you fall. It’s some comfort that you see Crosshair falling too. Though it’s only some comfort.

You hope that he doesn’t get hurt.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the dizzying array of lights and colors threatens to make you sick, and then you’re hitting solid ground, and you huff out a breath of pain as you land hard on the sand.

Slowly you roll from your back to your side, and then push yourself into a sitting position.

You’re still at the lake, though you’re alone now. You nervously clutch at your hands, and flicker your gaze around, “Cross?” You call, “are you here?”

You gingerly get to your feet, and inch towards the treeline, “Crosshair?”

“Ah, there you are.” You jump at the familiar voice coming from the opposite side of the clearing.

You spin on your heels and sigh in relief. “There you are. What happened?” You duck down to grab your sandals, only they’re not sitting in the sand. You stare at the sand, bewildered for a moment. You could have sworn…

“Sweetheart?” You jump again, and whip around to look at Crosshair.

“Sorry?”

He smiles at you, a proper smile, and you fold your arms over your chest, “I asked if you’re alright, sweetheart.”

Your blood runs cold.

Crosshair calls you sweetheart like it’s an insult. He’s rude and crass, and flicks toothpicks at you because he thinks it’s funny. He’s never smiled at you, and he’s never verbally asked if you were alright before.

He also calls you kitten when you’re alone, and likes to whisper in your ear like you’re the only two people in the world. And sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to him. And he always knows if you’re alright or not, because he’s Crosshair.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, taking a step closer to you.

You stumble back away from him, “Who are you?”

He pauses, and then smiles warmly, and you fight to hide your tremors, “It’s me. Your Crosshair.”

Trap. Traptraptrap. You take several large steps back, until you’re standing in the water, “You’re not Crosshair.”

He blinks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes! You…what did you do to him!?”

He tilts his head to the side, “He’s not hurt.” He takes several steps towards you, only to stop when you step further back into the water, the water now coming up to your knees. “I could be Crosshair, if you wanted.” He cajoles, “I would make you happy, and safe.”

You shake your head mutely, your arms folding tightly around yourself.

His face twists for a moment, something dark and dangerous crossing his features as he takes a stalking step towards you. 

You yelp and stumble further backwards, just as three arrows fly from the treeline and slam into Fake Crosshair’s chest. He releases a noise that no human throat could ever make, and then dissolves into goo on the sand.

“Get over here!” Crosshair’s voice is sharp, and your head snaps to the treeline, where he’s crouching in a tree.

“Cross-” You wade out of the water, and half run over to him, “I can’t find my shoes,” you blurt as you reach his side, the fact seeming very, very important for some reason, “They were there and now they’re not and-”

“I have them.” Crosshair interrupts, his gaze flickers over all of your exposed skin, likely looking for any injuries, “They were with me…and the fake you I had to deal with.”

“I…fake me?” You ask.

“Yeah, she was acting like me, and it pissed me off, so I stabbed her.” Crosshair replies as he hands you your shoes. “Well, and because she was trying to convince me that she was you.”

You slide your sandals back on, and then look up at him, “Can we go now?” you ask.

His gaze scans your face for a moment, and he nods, “That’s the plan, stay behind me.” He pauses when you grip the back of his shirt, and he glances at you over his shoulder.

“Sorry, do you need me to let go?”

“Hold on to the hem of my shirt, not the middle of the back,” is all Crosshair says in return. He waits until your grip shifts, and then he starts walking. 

He carefully leads you to where the stairs are, only for him to stop and curse loudly. “Cross?” You poke your head from around him and look up at him.

“The stairs are gone.” He says.

You release his shirt and step around him so you’re standing next to him, and you peer over the edge of the cliff and you frown. “I don’t even see the ground.”

Crosshair grabs your shoulder and pulls you away from the edge, “I noticed,” he says shortly.

“Okay, so…so maybe we have to go back to the statue?” You offer as you nervously wring your hands. 

Crosshair reaches out and grabs your hands, “Stop that. If you’re going to worry anything, worry my shirt.”

You immediately grab the hem of his shirt, and start rolling the soft material between your fingers. 

“And your suggestion is a valid one, I suppose. Though I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything,” You quip weakly, a small smile lifting your lips.

His hand comes up and presses lightly against the top of your head, a small bit of tenderness to help settle your nerves, and then he moves his hand back to the stock of his crossbow, “Stay behind me.”

You slide your hands to the back of his shirt, “I will.”

He glances at you, a small smirk on his lips, “Good girl.”

You flash a small smile up at him, and allow him to lead you back towards the lake.

The pair of you stop on the shore, and look out at  the statue, and Crosshair releases a frustrated sigh, “Do we need to get to the statue?” He glances at you, “What happened, in the story?”

“Um…the couple disappeared and were never seen again.” You admit.

“You could have mentioned that this was a horror story, kitten.”

You duck your head, “It wasn’t supposed to be real, Cross.”

He scoffs, “Any other stories that we should probably know about?”

“Um…there’s a couple of others,” You admit sheepishly.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“Sorry.”

He sighs deeply and pinches his nose, “Alright. It’s fine.” Crosshair looks around for a moment, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

You nod and release his shirt.

Crosshair is only a few feet away when you see something alarming. Dozens of weapons, all of them aimed at Crosshair.

You move before you can even think it through. Your hands come out and press against his back, and you push with all of your strength. Crosshair stumbles out of the way, annoyance crossing his face as he turns to yell at you, only the words die in his throat as he watches the first volley of arrows slam into you.

You crumple to the ground, still and silent. 

Crosshair rounds on the attackers, and fires off a series of arrows, moving faster and his aim truer than ever before. 

And then he’s kneeling next to you, his touch is gentle as he rolls you from your side onto your back.

“Come on, kitten.” He growls, fury warring with fear on his face.

A warm glow envelopes you, and then fades away into nothing, and you release a gasp, rolling back onto your side and coughing loudly. “C-Cross-?”

He roughly pulls you to a sitting position, “What the fuck were you thinking?!” He snaps, he runs his hands down your arms and sides, checking for injuries.

“They,” You cough again as you try to catch your breath, “they were going to hurt you.”

“I don’t care! You don’t do that. You don’t get to do that. Never again.” Crosshair orders. 

“But-”

“No. No buts. You will give me your word that you won’t do that ever again.” His hands are painful on your shoulders.

You stare at him, eyes wide, “Okay. Okay, I won’t do that again.”

His grip loosens around your shoulders, “You promise.” He demands.

“...yeah, I promise.” He releases a shaky breath and his forehead drops against yours, “Sorry for scaring you.” You whisper.

“It’s fine,” He says gruffly, his hand pressing against the back of your head, “Come on. We need to get to the island.”

You nod your agreement, but before you get to your feet, you pull him in for a kiss. Slow and lazy and proper. You’re pretty sure you just died, you feel like you’ve earned it.

Crosshair chuckles under his breath, “Alright, kitten. Feeling better?”

“...actually, yes.” You admit.

Crosshair helps you to your feet, his grip just a little too tight for comfort. You scared him, so you don’t begrudge him his anxiety.

“Good. Now, how do we get to the isla-?” He pauses mid sentence, his gaze locked on the lake. There, right next to where you’re standing, is a small boat. 

“This feels like a trap,” You whisper to him.

He grimaces, “Get in the fucking boat.” Crosshair says shortly.

Oh, good, he agrees.

You climb into the boat with little hesitance, after all, you are with Crosshair, and he’d never let anything hurt you. You sit on one of the benches in the boat, and dig around the bottom for some oars. 

The ease of several months of practice is the only reason you didn’t topple over when the boat started moving as Crosshair pushes the boat from the shore into deeper water.

You offer him one of the oars you found, “You do know how to use this, right?” You tease lightly.

He raises a single brow, takes an oar, and dips it into the water. And then he smirks and flicks water at you causing you to let out a disgruntled noise, “I think I can figure it out.”

The pair of you manage to cross the lake in short order, and you hop out of the boat to help Crosshair pull it out of the water. You ensure that the oars are stored in the boat, and then you turn to him with a nervous smile, “I think the statue is up there,” You motion to a ridge that was not noticeable from the shoreline.

Crosshair was scowling up at the ridge, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s seen something that you haven’t.

“Cross?”

He glances at you, and his frown deepens. “Stay with the boat.”

You blink in surprise, “Shouldn’t I go with you?” You ask, “I mean, if this is a trial, like from the story-”

You stop when he presses his hand over your mouth, “Absolutely not. There’s something unnatural happening here, and you will stay here until I figure out what it is.”

“What if you get hurt?” You ask, your voice muffled by his hand.

“Then I get hurt.” He replies unconcerned.

“But-”

“Are you going to stay here?” Crosshair asks, “Or do I need to put you back in the boat and push it into the lake?”

You whine low in the back of your throat, “Are those my only options?”

“Yes.”

You shoot him an unhappy look, “Then I’ll stay here.”

He guides you over to a rock and firmly sits you down, “Good girl.” He checks his weapons, “I’ll be back shortly. Probably.”

A petulant pout crosses your face as he walks away, following the trail up to the ridge. 

“Aww, he cares about you a lot,” 

You yelp and topple off of the rock at the sudden voice to your left.

“Oh! Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!”

You gape up at the strange woman standing over you. She’s stunning, though her features seem to shift and change as you stare at her, “Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh, I’m Poppy. Hello!”

“...hi?”

Poppy beams at you and you feel guilty for having been startled by her, “Do you think you can help me?” She asks as she folds her hands, pleadingly, under her chin.

“I…Crosshair was very specific about me staying here.”

“He was!” Poppy beams even more, “And it was very adorable, but I really do need your help. And so does he.”

You slowly get to your feet and Poppy lightly takes your arm, “What do you need my help with?”

“You’ll see! It’s not far, I promise.” Poppy half drags you out of the clearing, and down a thin path that you wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t shown you. “Just down here.”

She leads you to a cave, and then she leads you into a cave. The walls are covered with dark green ivy, and there’s flowers of all sorts growing across the floor and ceiling, “What…what is this place?”

“This is my home,” Poppy leads you to the very back, where a stunning marble statue sits…covered in wicked looking purple vines, “My shrine.”

“Wait, you’re-?”

Poppy smiles, “Many years ago, I chose to watch over this island and the people here with my partner. But one day these vines appeared…” She gestured to the vines, “And my power waned to the point I wasn’t able to stop that awful winter.” She sniffles, “The only good thing about that awful winter is that fake me wasn’t able to hurt anyone, but then the winter left, and she killed you! So naturally I had to save you!”

“Oh, uh…thank you, then.”

“You’re very welcome!” Poppy beams, though it fades quickly, “I gifted you a fraction of my power, just a fraction, enough to heal you, but it drained me something awful, so now I need your help.”

“With what?”

“The vines. I need you to remove the vines. Please.” Poppy lightly touches your arm, “It’ll hurt, little one. But, please-”

You come to a decision immediately. You can’t not help someone who needs help, it’s not your nature.

So you walk over to the statue, reach out, and grab a vine. 

It’s like grabbing a red hot wire; the vine sears into your skin, and you can hear the skin of your hands burning, but you don’t let go. Instead you tighten your grip, and you rip.

The smaller vines pull away with ease, dissolving into ash as soon as they land on the consecrated ground, but the larger vines are more troublesome. They twine around your arms as you rip them out, searing dark burns into your skin. Each one is more painful than the last.

But finally, finally, the last vine falls to the ground and dissolves into ash. The cave fills with a warm light, as though the sun has finally risen after a very long night, and Poppy laughs. 

“Finally,” She says through her laughter. She reaches out and touches you, and the pain fades, and the burns slowly turn into a delicate looking ivy tattoo, “There, my brave little ivy, no more pain. No more fear.” She leans in and kisses your forehead. “All will be well. Stay in here…you will be safe.”

“But…Crosshair?”

Poppy smiles, “All will be well.” She promises, and then she’s gone, leaving behind the delicate scent of flowers. 

**************

Crosshair grunts in pain as he dodges another blow from the so-called Goddess his Kitten told him about. His lips curl in disdain as he moves out of the way from another attack.

Had he known that his day was going to devolve from spending time with his person to fighting demons, he would have brought more than just his crossbow and hunting knife.

What’s the saying, hindsight is 20-20?

At least his kitten is safe, the demons seem to have no interest in her. Though, he’s willing to bet that if he doesn’t survive, then that will change. All that means is that he better not die.

The demon he’s fighting stumbles back for a moment, even though Crosshair isn’t anywhere near her. “No.” She hisses, “NO! Go and find the girl!” She shouts to her shadows, which take the form of him and his brothers, “Kill her!”

“Shit.” Crosshair turns his attention away from the main demon, to dealing with her underlings, only the moment demon!Hunter tries to leave the ridge, he’s cut in two.

“There’s no need to fret,” A strange man stands on the edges of the clearing, something coldly smug on his face, “You’re little lady is just fine. She’s somewhere where these fiends can’t touch her.”

“No…no. You cannot be here. You’re sealed away!” The demon snarls.

The man’s grin becomes vicious, “Crosshair, is it?”

Crosshair raises a single brow, but doesn’t bother to answer.

“I need you to shoot the statue. Right in the heart, if you would.”

It’s a weird ask, but he’s done weirder things, all things considered. So Crosshair lifts his crossbow, takes aim, and fires.

His bolt flies true, and slams into the statue’s heart.

The granite cracks, crumbles, and then completely shatters. And Crosshair blinks in surprise. The statue of the woman was gone, and in its place was a statue of a man, wielding a sword and dressed in armor. 

Crosshair lowers his bow, and the strange man chuckles and steps into the sunlight. “Well done, lad. Well done indeed.” The man stops next to Crosshair, his smile is kind, though there’s a hint of danger in his gaze, “You’ve done enough for now. Let’s send you to where you belong.”

“Where I-?”

There’s a flash of light, and Crosshair swears, as he immediately closes his eyes.

************

You scramble to your feet when the cave fills with a cold light. Cold, but somehow you know it’s not a threat. The light fades, and you heave out a sigh of relief when you see who’s standing in the cave with you.

“Cross?” You hurry over to him and fling your arms around his neck, and he grunts in surprise. “Are you okay?”

His hand comes up and presses between your shoulder blades, “Yeah. I’m fine.” Crosshair extracts himself from your grip, making you whine, “What’s this?” His fingers trail over the ivy tattooed on your arms.

“Um…the statue,” You motion to the gleaming white statue, “Was being smothered in vines, so I removed them, but they burned me really badly. So Poppy turned the scars into tattoos.”

“...who the fuck is Poppy?”

You blink up at him, and then you point to the statue, “That’s Poppy. She went somewhere else, though.”

“I did indeed,” Crosshair instinctively shoves you behind him, and Poppy giggles, “Oh, darling, he reminds me of you.”

There’s a man standing next to her, tall and broad, “That he does. Those demons won’t trouble anyone ever again.” He says firmly, “And, thanks to you both, this nation will never have to worry about an eternal winter again.”

“Because we’re awake now,” Poppy says warmly, “Which means we can go back to protecting what is ours.” She claps her hands, “But, we need to get you both home.”

The man smiles slowly, “But I think we can take care of that.”

There’s a bright flash of light, and everything fades away.

*********

“I’m heading out!” You call over your shoulder to your family.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Your older cousin asks gleefully, “It’ll be fun!”

“No thanks.” You reply as you make a face, “Have fun though.” You wave at your extended family, and then hurry out of the house before someone can come up with some reason you should go fishing with them.

Once you’re on the street, you turn and follow the road. You hurry past the forest, and over to the stone staircase that leads to the lookout. You carefully go up the stairs, and as soon as you’re standing on the grass at the top, you kick your sandals off. 

You duck down and pick them up, and then you follow the path lined by pretty white flowers away from the lookout, and towards the lake. You stop on the shore of the lake and you turn your attention to the island in the middle of the lake.

Alight with dozens of different flowering trees, the pair of statues looking out over the lake, and over Pabu as a whole, radiate a sense of warmth and love, and you grin at the statues.

And then you turn and race along the edge of the lake, until you’ve circled half of the lake, and only then do you dip into the dense trees. 

There, hanging from two massive trees, is a hammock. And laying on the hammock, is Crosshair. You drop your shoes on the ground next to the hammock, and lean over him, a grin on your face, “Found you!”

Crosshair doesn’t bother opening his eyes, instead he just snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you so you topple over on top of him. He then adjusts you so that your head is tucked under his chin, “No more adventures, kitten.”

You giggle and bury your face against his neck, “But I haven’t told you about the Volcan-”

“Shhh.” He presses his hand over your mouth, “We’re sleeping now.”

You giggle even more, and press your nose against him, “I suppose I can take a short nap.” You close your eyes, as the soft, delicate, scent of flowers fills the forest around you.

And you know that if you were to open your eyes, the forest around you would be blossoming with every flower known to man. After all, you and Crosshair are Poppy's favorite people.

[malue-505]

Hiya!

Introduction

About Me

Hello I am Malue_505 or simply just Malue or Mal! I go by She/Her pronouns (any pronouns are fine really but those are the ones I primarily use) and I’m demiromantic/demisexual

I mostly write for fandoms, Creepypasta and Slenderverse being my main focus! I mostly write my headcanons for my CrP AU, answer asks about it and hopefully write some fanfics when I get to doing that. I don’t have a strict schedule but I try to not take so long with posts

What to expect!

I can write for pretty much most characters. If a character has a trait I do not like, I simply make a version of them where they do not have that trait (Characters like Offenderman for example)

Lore for my main Creepypasta AU: Eyquolore! (Co-owned and named by @linhfoxmoive <3)

Possibly some OC stuff

Ships that I personally ship (Feel free to ask!)

Fluff and angst

No stuff on my DNI list framed positively (Will add warnings)

Boundaries

Ask box: Open

Requests: Closed

DNI: Anti-LGBTQ, racists, neo-nazis, MAPs, zionists, etc.

Welcomed: LGBTQ+ folks, systems, age discretion is advised since I do dabble in the horror genre and sensitive topics are likely to be brought up!

You can ask to be friends or mutuals! My DMs are open just don’t be a creep obviously. No flirting please, I only jokingly flirt if you’re a close mutual of mine!

I don’t mind spam liking or being tagged in posts. All my headcanons are free to use/implement in your AU or fanfic just make sure to credit me and let me know because I wanna see!

Socials

My socials are below, just make sure to clarify who you are so I don’t think you’re a bot

Tumblr: You’re already here dingus

Instagram: I don’t post as often but I update my stories sometimes, feel free to DM!

Discord: My username is also malue_505, you can send a friend request!

(Old introduction post)

Master List

OCs

The Pacifier - CrP OC (#crp the pacifier)

(Template by @the-slender-doll)

1043 - CrP/SV OC (#crp 1043)

Creepypasta/Slenderverse

General introduction post of my main AU

Proxism HC (Will post soon)

Slenderman’s Species (Operators)

Slenderman Proxy Ranks

Slenderman Proxy Organization

Amount of Slenderman Proxies

Slenderman Mansion HCs

List of Mansion Residents

Ages of the Mansion Residents

General CrP HCs

Relations between Creepypastas and Proxies

Slender Brother relations

Why Jane lives at the mansion with Jeff

Why Lazari grew up

Why Slenderman adopted Sally

General Jeff HCs

General BEN HCs

General Sally HCs

General Lazari HCs

General Slender Doll Ally HCs

General Laughing Jack HCs

General Bartender 1941 HCs

Tim and Brian Personality HCs

Wholesome Brim HCs

Toby’s Relationship with Tim and Brian HCs

(Outdated) CrP Sexuality HCs + Proxy dating policies

(Updated) CrP Sexuality HCs

Zalgo’s enemies and servants

Zalgo as a teenager

Puppet Strings Slenderman meets Eyquolore Slenderman

Semi-introduction to species categories

Semi-introduction to other species lore

Small explanation of what Operator blood can do

Cuphead

Cup People Race

That’s all folks!

- Malue <3

(Art by @linhfoxmoive)

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Part 2 of this nonsense. If you want to read the summary just check out part 1.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash pairing OK Janny has my heart in a steel grip

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY!!!, sexual content, oral (m receiving), slash of course (future SamXDanny so if that will freak you out in later chapters maybe just skip this all together), unrequited love, angst, third person POV Jake and Danny, restaurant AU, brief talk about sexuality, very little bit of crying, masturbation

Word count: 6k

Black non-slip shoes, black pants ever so slightly too short so that bony ridges of the ankle were always on display. Tucked neatly into the slender waist was a wrinkle free black cotton button down with the sleeves expertly rolled up to the elbows. A singular gold chain around the wrist catching the light as the hand jotted down orders onto a small notepad. Nearly black hair, in tight coils twisted up at the back of the head and clasped together in a black metal clip.

That was Danny every day at work, and every day Jake caught himself watching, waiting for Danny to approach him and say something.

It had been nearly a week since the party, and a week since Jake and Danny hadn’t spoken outside of saying goodnight to each other that evening, and the very rare and little conversation they needed to have while at the restaurant together.

He could call or text him, but Jake’s mornings had been filled with helping Josh pack for his move. The days and nights filled with menu planning, supply ordering, then the crazy thrill of running the kitchen line.

By this point Jake had two fears, either of which were completely plausible and he’d spent every night laying in bed thinking about how to prepare himself for either outcome.

The first fear was that Danny regretted their heated night together, having been fueled by alcohol and lured into a snake's den. Jake could deal with that, he’d offer him an apology and pretend like he too had been way too drunk to have been thinking clearly, and just hope they could both forget it.

The second fear was that Danny had taken him seriously when Jake said it didn’t have to mean anything. That Danny could come to work everyday and look at Jake the same, unphased by their passionate night together. Jake hadn’t yet worked out how he was going to deal with that, because that meant he was the one catching feelings that he wasn’t supposed to.

Tonight was finally nearing its end, and Jake had two days off as soon as this shift was over. Well a day and a half, he’d almost forgotten that he’d agreed to come in tomorrow morning and help with inventory until the restaurant manager reminded him while double checking he was staying to witness the cash drop.

“Yeah, I’ll be here” he replied, meaning he could be counted on for both tonight and tomorrow.

Although Jake was dead beat, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to going home so soon. Tonight and tomorrow morning we’re going to be his first he’d spend alone in what used to be his shared apartment with his twin.

Josh had left for New York just before Jake came into work. The thought of him coming in with bloodshot eyes was the only thing that kept him from crying as he watched Josh load the last of his things into the back of his Jeep. Guess it was a good thing he had to come in tomorrow anyways.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?” Jake heard the manager question someone, then a familiar voice reply.

“I’m just waiting on my ride”.

The manager and Jake were the only ones left at the restaurant, so Jake had to be ‘the ride’ that they were referring to.

“Alright, well we will finish this up quickly then. You better not be on the clock”.

Jake tried to hide his nerves as he put some last minute cleaning touches on the kitchen before heading to the office.

Tonight has been slow compared to the rest of the week, so thankfully there wasn’t much cash to count. He signed his name next to the dozen other signatures of his on the log then gathered his bag.

When he returned to the kitchen so he could go out the back door and lock up behind him, Danny was leaned against the counters waiting.

“Hey” was all he said as he pushed off the counter and followed Jake out the door.

“Hey” Jake replied as nonchalantly as he could manage, suddenly thinking his voice sounded weird in the cold fresh air compared to the yelling he’d done tonight in the stuffy kitchen.

“I saw Sam take Savanna home. Don’t really want to go there while they’re, you know”.

“Yeah, sure” Jake fumbled with his key fob to get his car unlocked. “Josh’s old bed is still in his room. You can crash in there if you want”.

“In Josh's room? I’ve shared beds with a lot of Kiszkas in my day, but I can’t say that Josh was ever one of them”. Danny was trying to joke around, either he was anxious about inviting himself over without discussing it first (Jake would have said yes if Danny had just talked to him), or Jake’s second fear was true.

“He won’t mind, it’s not like he’s using it anymore” Jake reminded Danny that today was the day he officially moved out. With the party having already been a week ago, it must have slipped his mind.

Part of him wanted to twist the metaphorical knife he knew was wedged into Danny’s side right now, and ask him why he hadn’t cared enough to check in. He couldn’t do that to Danny though, surely the guy had a lot on his plate as well with school and having to put up with Sam and his antics everyday.

“Shit, so he’s really gone then?”

Jake just stared out the windshield, the flashing yellow lights outside periodically revealing his somber expression the only indication of how he was truly feeling inside.

“How are you holding up?” Danny knew the answer to that question, he just didn’t know how to console him. It was an odd feeling, like he couldn’t help, because usually he was the one playing the mediator role.

Maybe he was good at that because he was good at golfing. Patience was key when on the green, each course requiring its own calculated method of playing if you wanted to overcome it. Danny had each Kiszka pinned in their own little hole.

Josh was the easiest, all he had to do was remind him that the universe needed balance and too much negative Kiszka energy was sure to disrupt a few things and cause a rift or some bullshit like that (he just sort of made something up on the spot each time) and he’d get Josh's attention turned on explaining a philosophy or theory he had instead.

He used to think that Sam was the worst, because he was the brattiest, poutiest, most throw a tantrum if he didn’t get what he wanted of them all. Nonetheless, Danny had accumulated an arsenal of Samdy as he called it in his head. Metaphorical ‘candy’ that he used to calm Sam down.

First there was food, Sam could be a hell of a brat when he was hungry. If food didn’t work then he would move on to something else.

There was usually always one sure fire way to get Sam to calm down though, and that was to just hold him and let him vent.

Having grown up as the youngest between Josh and Jake he often felt like his opinion was overshadowed by the two, a solo voice instead of a pair. Danny picked up on that not too long after sticking around, and found that when they got into arguments Sam would sometimes pick the opposite point of view from the twins just to see if he could outdo them. It was in those cases Danny would separate Sam, sit him down, and just wrap his arms around him until he was done saying whatever piece he’d meant to get out.

The first time it happened Sam was taken aback. He and Danny had already gotten pretty close by then, close to the point where they felt like they could tell each other anything, but to be so physical even in a platonic way was a big step. From that point on though Sam glued himself to Danny and Danny didn’t mind one bit.

It had taken some time for Danny to fully come to grips with the extent of his feelings for Sam. Even when he did realize that they ran a little deeper than just best buds, having Sam the way he did was enough for him. Or so he thought.

Then there was Jake.

He was truly the most difficult one to crack. Jake didn’t get mad easily, but when he did you could be sure the wrath of all the seven seas was to be unleashed on you. Danny had yet to be the direct object of such threatening instances, but he’d been near and witnessed the aftermath of literal broken property.

Jake being sad was a whole other typhoon in itself, swirling and enveloping others in its torrent path until it eventually died down and dissipated.

With Josh gone for the time being, Danny only hoped a storm wasn’t brewing.

A sigh coming from the driver caused Danny to refocus his attention. Daring to look back over he saw Jake was still lost in thought. He had that look about him ever since the party, so Danny thought it best to give him some space. Exact opposite of what he did for Sam because what else was he supposed to do?

“I could definitely use a distraction tonight” Jake admit. The first hint that he’d wanted what happened between the two of them to happen again. “But, I’m a little too tired, might just pass out as soon as we get inside”.

“Of course, it’s been a long week” Danny agreed, trying to just go with the flow. Whatever Jake was comfortable with he was, whatever Jake wanted to do he would.

Sooner than he’d expected since he had momentarily been lost in thought they were already pulling into Jake's apartment lot. His body went stiff but he still managed to swing his long legs out of the car and follow Jake up the concrete sidewalk to his front door. He hoped once they were inside Jake would just do his thing and amble off to his room, because if he did stop for even just a brief moment Danny didn’t know what he’d do.

“I’ll grab some extra sheets and a blanket from the closet, there’s only one person who ever really uses them” Jake mentioned as he ascended the stairs. Danny should have pieced two together and realized who the ‘one other’ person that ever stayed over at this apartment was, but as he kept a few paces behind him he had an excellent view of Jake’s ass and that sort of made his mind liquify.

He wondered if Jake would come into the room and help him put the sheets on the bed, but then again that would be weird right? In Josh’s room? Not that it was really Josh's room anymore or that anything was more weird than wanting to tackle your best friend's older brother to the nearest bed.

Seemingly unphased by the panic in Danny’s eyes, Jake handed him the stack of bedding and turned towards his room. Crisis averted.

After setting the pile onto the edge of the bed, Danny re-emerged to find the door to Jake’s room still open. He peeked inside and Jake stared back at him with wide wishful eyes. “I’m going to take a shower before heading to bed if you don’t mind” Danny informed him, looking everywhere in the room but the deep red bed, the color of temptation.

Jake stood from where he had collapsed into his chair at his desk, having not been able to sit for the majority of the night had really done a number on his knees.

“Yeah, let me get you a towel” he tried to brush past the figure in his doorway, but Danny’s hand caught his shoulder.

“Are they in the closet? I can get one myself, go sit you said you were tired”.

Jake wanted to obey, but he was frozen in place, Danny’s hand still warm on his shoulder the only heat source keeping him from breaking into a thousand tiny ice cubes.

“They are” he gulped, trying not to imagine Danny undressing just across the hall. Then he realized Danny hadn’t brought anything clean to change into. “Would you get me one too, I’ll take one after you”. While Danny showered he could rummage through his things to try and find something that would fit him.

He watched as Danny walked over to the same closet he was just in, making sure there were two fresh towels in there before he’d leave him to it.

Danny was stopped in front of the closet though, shit maybe Josh had taken all the towels with him. He was very picky about the types of towels he used so Jake could easily see him doing something stupid like that.

Jake stepped out of his room into the hallway, and Danny turned to face him with a curious expression.

“Maybe, you would like to help me with these?” His hand traced the row of black acrylic buttons that held the front of his shirt together.

Jake scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the wall. “No, I think you’re quite capable of doing it yourself”. What Jake really meant was fuck yes but if I come over there right now I’ll rip those buttons right out of their place.

“Hmm, that’s funny, because the way you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from across the dining room every night says otherwise” Danny looked away from Jake and down at the collar of his shirt, starting to loosen it up with the first two buttons, then pausing.

“I thought that we could save a little time by showering together? I know you’re tired, don’t want to make you wait on me”.

“How thoughtful of you” Jake gathered his wits. He'd been waiting for Danny to talk to him for a week and now here he was, alone in his apartment with him, and Danny was offering to shower together. He approached the man carefully, willing his hands not to tremble as he undid the rest of the buttons on Danny’s shirt, letting the fabric fall to the side.

“Can I touch you a little first?” Unlike the other night when Jake was able to maintain eye contact with Danny, his eyes were now fixated on the vast expanse skin so delicately stretched over lean muscle and broad bone structure. Bone? Yeah, he was trying not to get a boner right now.

He’d been so concentrated on drinking up the image, Danny’s perfectly shaded skin peppered with curly dark hair. His torso was in a black frame with his shirt still hanging from his shoulders. Jake was taking a picture with his eyes and hanging it in his mind. Then Danny chuckled, making Jake suddenly feel embarrassed he’d asked something so inane.

A hand slipped around Jake's waist, not pulling him forward, but also not pushing him away, just holding him there by the small of his back. “Go ahead”.

Jake ran his palm across Danny’s pecks, letting his fingertips feel the coarseness of his hairs compared to the smooth panes. One of his thumbs brushed against a nipple, and Danny sucked in a deep breath causing his chest to expand out towards Jake.

Encouraged by the response the simple accidental touch made, without asking for permission this time, Jake leaned forward and lapped his tongue over the perky bud.

A restrained moan slipped from Danny’s mouth, the intensity of it muffled by him pulling his lips between his teeth.

Jake imagined how good Danny must sound letting his voice free to resonate in the acoustics of the shower. He wondered how loud he’d have to make Danny cry to hear him over the sound of the water pounding the tile, and Jake pounding him.

Fuck being tired because now he was so incredibly horny and all it took was one little sassy comment from Danny to make him turn completely feral.

“Shower. Now.” Jake growled into the tiny concave of chest above his sternum, pulling away to make haste at starting to remove his own clothes right there in the hallway.

Without looking away, Danny reached back around and blindly grabbed whatever towels his hand could find, following Jake into the bathroom with a pleased look.

As soon as they were both clothing free and under the lukewarm stream, Jake’s hungry hands returned to Danny’s body, blindly slipping and caressing over every surface just like the beads of water that rolled down him.

His lips found a temporary home nestled deep within the cave of Danny’s neck, tucking open mouthed kisses underneath his jaw tasting the slight saltiness of his sweat being washed away.

The tip of his nose found his earlobe, easily recognizable by the feeling of the delicate hoop earrings brushing against the ridge. Then he tasted the metal as his teeth nipped at them.

His head was everywhere and nowhere all at once, his sense of hearing being dulled while his sense of touch was being heightened.

He’d played around with sense deprivation play before, but he’d always been the one being touched. Now he was finding that it was just as thrilling doing the touching as well, trying to match everything he felt with his hands to the framed picture in his mind as he held his eyes closed to keep the water dripping through Danny’s hair from getting in them.

“Jake” Danny groaned. He could feel the vibration of his vocal cords against his cheek now. “Jake” he was sending a warning, because Jake's hands were getting lower and lower.

His hand brushed up against the base of Danny and was happy to find that he was hard. Jake's lips pulled into a smirk, but retreated his touch by digging the tips of his fingers into his tuff of public hair and dragging them up through his happy trail leaving four soft pink scratch marks behind.

If Jake hadn’t been so close he might not have heard the whimper that broke Danny, but he did, and he went back for more. That was until Danny took possession of both his lithe wrists and backed Jake up against the wall, pinning his hands above his head.

Jake gasped at the shock of the feeling of the cold tile against his back compared to the warm water, lurching his hips forward and bumping his own unbearably hard cock against Danny’s. His breath caught at the top of his throat as his mouth was attacked with hungry kisses.

Danny only needed one hand to hold Jake's crossed wrists in place. Sure if Jake wanted to escape him he could pull away, but he didn’t, he wanted to see where this would go. Danny used his free hand to take him by the hip and pull him back towards him until they were grinding on each other again, only this time without any clothes in the way to dull the sensations.

Jake showed Danny how badly he wanted it by moaning into his mouth, letting his tongue come out to lick a vertical stripe up Danny’s lips to beckon him back when he pulled away all too soon.

“Don’t move” Danny instructed him as he slowly let him go and began a trail of kisses down his chest. Carefully, he descended onto his knees in front of him, stopping his kisses right at Jake's pelvis. “I have a favor to return to you”.

Letting his arms come back to rest at his sides, Jake looked down at this glorious saint below him knowing he’d tainted him. He wondered if Danny had worked himself up by thinking about getting him into his mouth just as much as Jake had fantasized about his size inside his again.

Reaching over, he placed one palm on Danny’s jaw and guided his face closer, knowing all he needed was just a little nudge to begin.

Starting with a few licks up his length, Danny sized him up before wrapping his lips completely around him. Jake moved his hand to Danny’s hair, collecting as much of the soaking wet strands as he could with his fidgety fingers.

“Feels good” Jake encouraged him when Danny’s eyes flickered upward.

Building confidence, he began to suck harder, adding in some flicks of his tongue against his slit when he came up.

He wanted to pull off, wipe himself clean of the excess saliva his mouth was working up while being stuffed, but from experience he knew he shouldn’t. Doing this in the shower was honestly a good idea on his part, because he wouldn’t have to worry about being messy, the water would wash all evidence of their transgression away in due time. First he had to focus, hoping he’d have the skill and willpower to get Jake just where he wanted him.

Jake was being so gentle with him, standing obediently still besides every so often running his thumb across Danny’s forehead in a futile attempt to wipe some of the water away.

Feeling some sort of way about the kind gesture, but unable to speak, he thanked him in another way. Removing his fist from his base, Danny bobbed his head as far as he could.

The feeling of another man’s length hitting the back of his throat was unnerving at first, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. So he bobbed again, going a little overboard this time when a gag raked through him in a reflective response.

He didn’t stop though, because Jake was really moaning now, his fingers pulling at his hair from their roots as he tightened his grip.

After setting a motion Danny remained hyper aware of everything that was happening from the way Jake couldn’t help but buck his hips now that he was taking him all the way, to the screaming pain in his knees from the hard floor of the shower.

“Feels s’good” Jake repeated, slurring his words now. Danny looked up at him again, trying to push away all the thoughts and just revel in this moment. As soon as he locked eyes with Jake though, he knew what was coming. Well, Jake was, soon by the looks of it.

He had his brows furrowed, his mouth hung open like he was subconsciously mimicking the way Danny stayed open wide for him. “Fuck, I’m gonna-”.

There was a moment of uncertainty. Danny knew Jake wanted to cum in his mouth, but even after all he’d already done, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet.

Without having to make the decision for himself, Jake tugged so hard on his hair he winced and pulled back. Then Jake was bent over to help him up, connecting their mouths as soon as he was upright again.

Danny cupped Jake’s face in both hands as he kissed him back with just as much energy. Jake’s grip was on Danny’s hips now, anchoring him in place as he began rolling his hips upwards.

The knot that had wound itself in the pit of Jake’s stomach tightened. All the tiredness he’d been feeling up until about 20 minutes ago came flooding back to him, but his body was still so tense. He knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he’d climaxed and he’d been so close. With one more squeeze on Danny and a haphazard thrust, his body was going limp. Hot spurts of his release mixed with the shower and ran down the drain just like his last sense of self-control had the moment he saw Danny undressed again.

The kiss never stopped even after the movement in his lower half did and Jake came down. Danny held his face steady as he came at him from every angle until he was completely blissed out.

“Can I borrow your shampoo?”

Jake's eyes snapped open. He hadn’t even realized he’d gone back to holding himself up all on his own until he saw Danny turned around, rummaging through the few bottles of product he had.

As Jake watched he had the sudden realization that the usually crowded shower recess was now empty of Josh’s abundant arrangement.

The sadness he’d been preventing himself from feeling all day started to catch up to him. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the vulnerability of the act they’d just committed, but he felt tears prickling at his eyes.

Trying to keep himself from completely unraveling to his core, he wiped the tears away and refocused his attention on the man before him.

Pressing his front along Danny’s back, he reached around and felt for him. “I do not recommend using shampoo as lube if that’s what you’re aiming at”. He tried to sound unphased, but with his recent tear fit his voice came out shaky instead.

Danny caught his hand and pulled it away, turning back around to face him. He gave Jake a tender look, clearly Jake wasn’t hiding it as well as he thought, and popped open the shampoo bottle.

After squeezing an appropriate amount into his palm he reached over and started to work circles into the crown of Jake's hair, getting the suds all the way into his scalp with his fingers.

“Danny, don’t you want to?” He looked down to see he was still halfway hard, but calming down by the second with the untimely shift in mood.

“I’m fine. You’ve had a hard day. Let’s get you washed up so you can get to bed”. He was concentrating on getting every strand of hair coated while trying to keep the runoff from getting the other’s eyes.

Danny’s ability to be so empathetic was one Jake often found himself envious of. It’s not like Jake was heartless, quite the opposite actually, he just found it hard sometimes to outwardly show his emotions. That’s why the older he got, he found he enjoyed sex so much. Where he thought he failed in communicating, he found he could make up for in physically worshiping another’s body.

Being desired by somebody was another high all on its own. He loved his brother indefinitely, but a lifetime of sharing everything had left him feeling like half a person. When he was desired, just him, it was freeing, and he’d oftentimes chase that euphoria.

“Okay, now rinse” Danny waited for Jake to get all of the shampoo out of his hair, thinking it was the longest he had seen it, especially now weighted down with the water. He reached over and rubbed the ends of it through his fingers, his knuckles brushing against Jake's chest where the length lay.

“What?” Jake questioned his silent movements with an uneasy chuckle.

“Nothing” Danny let his hair go and helped brush it over his shoulder before backing away from the stream to start lathering up his own. “Just thought Sam was the one who cared about his hair, looks like he’s not the only one”. He handed over Jake the bottle of body wash and they swapped places.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake narrowed his gaze. That was ballsy to say coming from the man he knew had a whole curl routine now.

Danny smiled back but kept silent until they’d both finished washing just as the water started to get a little too cold for comfort. Damn apartment water heater, if Jake ever got his own place he’d be sure to get a really good one since he often found himself taking extra long showers just standing under the stream trying to get the soreness to melt out of his back and shoulders from all the long shifts he’d put in.

Jake was the first to leave the bathroom, grabbing one of the towels that had been thrown onto the vanity in their hurry to get undressed earlier.

Dripping all over his room since he hadn’t stopped to properly dry off he searched through his drawers for anything that might fit Danny, throwing on a few things himself along the way.

When he found a pair of boxers and shorts that might work he peaked back out into the hallway, but the door to Josh’s room was still closed and the light in the bathroom was still on.

“Hey, you can try these on” Jake spoke as he approached so he wouldn’t startle him. Because Jake didn’t go around trying to sneak up on people like others did.

He found Danny still in just a towel wrapped around his waist, standing in front of the mirror brushing his hair out and coiling strands around his finger.

“Oh, thanks. Guess I didn’t really think that through when I invited myself over” he was laughing softly, but Jake could tell he was feeling a little guilty about it still.

“You’re welcome over anytime, it’s not even a question” he assured him. The two made eye contact in the mirror and Danny smiled before going back to what he was doing.

“That looks tedious” he watched as he worked through his mane lock by lock.

“The work we go through to be pretty” he laughed for real this time, because he felt foolish calling himself pretty.

“I can help you, with the back at least, so it doesn’t take you so long” Jake offered, stepping up behind him and picking up a wet strand. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it didn’t look too hard.

“Sure, Sam usually helps me actually”.

Jake’s hands froze hearing Sam, the Sam he was so used to being idiotic and self-serving, was so kindly and helpful with Danny in the comfort of their own home together sent a pang of doubt through him.

“You just hold the strand and push upwards gently to see which direction the natural curl goes, like this” Danny picked up another lock of his hair from the side he was working on and showed Jake what to do. “When you know which direction it wants to go, you twist it around your finger that way, not too tight, so you can slide your finger back out and let it fall. Then voila”. Danny was going slower than he was capable of, watching Jake's eyes on his hands through the mirror to make sure he was keeping up.

Jake gave it a go, selectively repeating his words as he went “not too tight, slide the finger out, okay sounds like something I can do”.

“Jaaaake” Danny whined, if he was just going to fuck around with him then he could do it himself.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jake smirked, picking up the next lock and going through the motions again. This piece fell the opposite way as the last, so he struggled slightly with getting it to wrap around his finger that way, but he managed. He slipped his finger out and let it fall next to the other one, then took a step back to examine them. They weren’t as perfect as Danny’s side, but hopefully that was alright.

They both worked on their respective places in Danny’s hair, Danny moving over to the other side since he’d been nearly done with the first when Jake interrupted him.

Jake again found himself lost in his thoughts. Even if Danny was a little bit weary about inviting himself, he felt comfortable enough to decide to come home with Jake instead of back to his apartment. Not to mention the daringness of his advances that had led to Jake reaping all the benefits of Danny’s presence. Fuck it was also really nice to smell Jake’s shampoo in Danny’s hair. “You are pretty” he let slip.

Danny’s eyes met his in the mirror again, but flickered away quickly when he saw a bashful blush appear on his cheeks. Feeling exposed all of a sudden, he decided he might as well confess while they were being honest with each other. “You know I’ve never done that before... Given another guy head before I mean”.

Jake hummed, letting his fingers brush across the top of Danny’s shoulders as he moved the strands he’d already done to get to the ones that were already starting to curl on their own in the back. “I figured, but that’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’m sure there’s a lot of guys out there who have never done that before”.

“But you have? Since before the other night?”

Jake didn’t feel awkward talking about sex, he was confident in his abilities in the bedroom, and there were still plenty of things he wanted to try with the right person. “Yeah, not the first and probably not the last time”. He shrugged and stepped away showing that he was done.

“How many guys have you been with?” Danny questioned further, turning around to face Jake and lean on the counter.

“Not many, just a couple, but enough to learn what I like”.

Danny looked like he was lost in thought, having some sort of internal debate with himself no doubt over his sexuality. Jake could have offered some more words of advice, it would have been the older brotherly thing to do, but again he was tired tonight and this really seemed like something he was going to eventually have to figure out on his own.

He clasped his hand onto Danny's shoulder and gave it a tug. “Come on, let’s go to bed”.

Danny collected the few clothes Jake brought him and they parted ways in the hallway, Jake going back into his room, and Danny into what was now the spare bedroom in solely Jake's apartment.

He couldn’t imagine living comfortably alone, having gone from living with his parents straight into moving and living with Sam. Living with Sam was better than he’d imagined, up until Savanna. Of course Sam had brought girls home before, so had Danny in times of need, but something about Savanna rubbed Danny wrong. The way Sam doted on her like she walked on water. It was the way Danny wanted to treat Sam if only he’d ever give him the chance.

He pulled on the boxers and shorts. They were a little small, but would do the job for the night, and made up the bed.

It was late, he could feel it in the way his entire body gave out the moment he laid down and pulled the blanket up, tucking it under his chin.

A familiar scent caught his attention just before he could drift off to sleep. A scent that felt so common and comforting, but he was keeping himself up going crazy trying to figure out where he had smelled it so often.

Lifting the blanket to his nose he inhaled deeply, and then it hit him. Only one other person ever uses this, Sam.

Sam was the only other person who ever stayed over at this apartment, and he had used this blanket rather recently too. He inhaled again, feeling the shorts he borrowed getting even tighter.

Keeping the blanket pulled up over half of his face, he slipped his hand down his chest and into the elastic of the shorts, giving himself an exploratory tug over the boxers.

When a wave of arousal hit him, he tugged the two layers of clothing down and started working himself over bare. It was fast, carnal, the way he gripped and stroked, his skin still warm from the heat of the shower.

Finding himself nearing his climax so soon, he stopped for a second to think about what he was doing. What was the most inconspicuous way to do this? He didn’t want to return Jake's clothes or sheets back to him soiled. He could sneak back off into the bathroom, but he wanted it now, wrapped up in this blanket. Wrapped up in Sam.

The towel was his next thought, he could use that to clean himself up and just throw it away in the morning. He could buy Jake a new towel, that was going to have to work.

He got out of the bed just long enough to retrieve the towel, laying it over his lower half as he covered himself back up and began again.

A few more minutes in and his body was writhing under the blanket, hips bucking up into his tightened fist until he was cumming.

Danny cleaned himself up and fixed the shorts back where they belonged.

Laying there in the dark afterwards he felt aware of himself. Aware of his feelings, and it was getting increasingly harder to keep them at bay.

@psychedelicsprinkles

[princessofxianle]

through a fractured existence (oh god i wish you were here)

~ a "Xie Lian dies in book 4" AU ~

| 2.0k | as always, formatting is better to read on ao3 | based on this post |

Tag requests: @kiba-chan27 @fandoom-strikes @maryqueenofmurder @iixie

Summary:

The man sighs in disappointment. “I’m sorry I must have stumbled into the wrong sedan.”

Nan Yang furrows his brows. “Were you expecting to find his highness here?”

The man chuckles. “I had hoped.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Believe me, I have my ways.”

“I’m telling you now. Stop looking for him. You will never find him.”

The man in red shoots a piercing glare at Nan Yang.

Only now does the general notice he wears an eyepatch. The presence of this ghost is great. Even a god has to suppress a shudder at the aura of intimidation it is emitting.

“Why? You think you can protect him from me?” The man chuckles as he takes a step back toward the ex-bodyguard.

Feng Xin’s heart sinks.

He doesn’t know?

or

800 years after the fall of Xianle, Feng Xin finds a ghost looking for the same crown prince he lost all those years ago. There's something he knows that this red-clad ghost does not

...

General Nan Yang sits quietly in the bridal sedan making its way across Mount Yu Jun.

He reminds himself that this isn’t the worst or most embarrassing thing he’s done. He pushes away old memories of busking for money during the years after his kingdom fell.

It’s of no use thinking about that now.

The sounds of fighting just outside his sedan from their earlier encounter with a swarm of flesh-eating binu have gone unsettlingly silent.

“Mu Qing?” he calls to outside the sedan.

There is no answer.

Suddenly there is a tintinnabulation of what sounds to be a jostling collection of small silver bells.

General Nan Yang freezes.

An indescribably harrowing shadow of a man stands immediately outside the red curtain of the sedan. The shadow approaches and extends a hand toward the barrier of the curtain. When the barrier is passed, the shadow becomes a human hand.

Except it’s not human, is it? Pale skin, slender fingers. And a red string tied around his third finger.

General Nan Yang hesitates but still reaches out and grabs the steady support of the hand. It, in turn, helps him up and out of the sedan. All clues point to this being the ghost groom, but something isn’t right. He steps out of the sedan and trips.

The man catches him. He’s wearing a red robe, embellished head to toe in silver jewelry. An intricate network of small silver bells adorns his boots from calf to ankle.

Nan Yang is a bit too on edge to feel embarrassment when his veil falls from his face. So he takes the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the face of this mysterious ghost groom.

Suddenly the man freezes and steps back.

“You aren’t his highness.” He utters surprised.

His highness?

His Highness

The Crown Prince.

Taizi Dianxia.

How does this ghost know of his highness?

“I am indeed not.” Nan Yang replies matter-of-factly. “What business do you have with the Crown Prince of Xianle?”

The man sighs in disappointment. “I’m sorry I must have stumbled into the wrong sedan.”

Nan Yang furrows his brows. “Were you expecting to find his highness here?”

The man chuckles. “I had hoped.”

“You won’t find him.”

“Believe me, I have my ways.”

“I’m telling you now. Stop looking for him. You will never find him.”

The man in red shoots a piercing glare at Nan Yang.

Only now does the general notice he wears an eyepatch. The presence of this ghost is great. Even a god has to suppress a shudder at the aura of intimidation it is emitting.

“Why? You think you can protect him from me?” The man chuckles as he takes a step back toward the ex-bodyguard.

Feng Xin’s heart sinks.

He doesn’t know?

“Protect Xie Lian?” Feng Xin inquires back. Best eliminate any possibility that they weren’t talking about the same crown prince.

“Who else?” The man hisses and takes another step toward Feng Xin. It becomes apparent how much taller this man is.

Feng Xin swallows. “I do not have the ability to protect his highness any longer…”

“Glad to see you know your place,” and with the grand flip of a red sleeve, he turns to leave.

But Feng Xin continues, “…because I’ve already failed.”

The man stops abruptly. And turns ever so slowly back toward Feng Xin.

Feng Xin notices that the aura of intimidation from this ghost shakes like an earthquake. If this man is indeed as old as himself, Feng Xin decides he should at least allow him the courtesy of the truth.

“The Crown Prince of Xianle died. 800 years ago. After his first banishment from heaven.”

The man fully turns back around toward Feng Xin. “Liar.”

“A ghost as strong as yourself should know I’m not deceiving you. It would be imbecilic for me to even try,” Feng Xin deduces, growing slowly more aware of the killing intent from this red clad ghost.

The man takes a breath. It isn’t labored, but it isn’t calm either. Ghosts don’t need to breathe. It seems to be more of a reaction than a simple need for air.

“You were his bodyguard, right?”

Feng Xin can’t tell if that is an educated guess or if he has met this soul before. But at the moment, the reasoning is not of importance.

“I was. Yes.”

“You didn’t protect him?” he prods. The killing aura around this ghost spikes once again.

Feng Xin is taken aback, 800 years of grief rushing back to him in a moment.

“How did he die?” This question isn’t an insult. Feng Xin thinks it to be more of a plea.

The failed bodyguard cannot answer. He shudders as more memories come rushing back. Words fail him, so his hand instinctively moves to roll up the sleeve of his robes.

A silk bandage is wrapped around his right arm. It’s old, stained with blood, but seemingly not covering a recent wound.

Well, not a physical one.

Feng Xin removes the bandage.

The red clad ghost stands frozen in place, eyes fixating on Feng Xin’s movements. Specifically on the dirty silk bandage. It is not a judgmental look. It’s more one of… worry.

The bandage swiftly ties itself into a noose.

Feng Xin takes a breath, trusting his voice not to fail him before he attempts to speak.

He looks down at the bandage noose in his hands.

He recalls the day he found his highness’s body.

Cold.

Lifeless.

Dead.

Hanging from a beam.

His parents nowhere to be found. And likely also deceased.

Feng Xin had taken the body down immediately, but he couldn’t quite recall how long it had taken him. He only remembered that when he shakily lowered him to the ground, he held his Crown Prince with no intention of ever letting go, cradling him with all the care in the world.

He had called the name Xie Lian so many times the sensation of the words on his tongue almost lost all meaning to him. Eventually his voice failed him anyway, beginning to crack in the middle of his words, and he simply cried into Xie Lian’s hair. His body was already stiff. His soul was long gone.

Feng Xin just prayed that he was dreaming.

Until he realized his god would never receive his prayer.

He clutched Xie Lian’s face to his shoulder, protected under his neck, even though he knew protecting him was utterly useless now.

The Crown Prince of Xianle’s bodyguard had utterly and completely failed.

He had exhausted himself. In strength due to his sobs. And in love due to the fact he no longer had anywhere for it to flow into. He felt it pour out of him until he was empty. And then he felt his grief wring the rest of it out of him like a wet towel. He was surprised a person could still be alive with all of it gone. If it weren’t for his shivering awareness of the cold nighttime air around him, he may have believed he had died and become a ghost.

Feng Xin was never cold, as Xie Lian had told him. His skin had always burned. Xie Lian was normally the cold one.

Then again…

Xie Lian had never been this cold.

He had fallen asleep holding Xie Lian, resting his head on top of his hair. His last conscious thoughts were wishing it all was a dream.

Unfortunately, upon waking, Xie Lian was still in his arms. Xie Lian was still cold.

Xie Lian was still dead.

All of this comes rushing back to Feng Xin in an instant. But the man is still awaiting his answer.

“Tell me how he died.” The ghost reaches for his saber but not to unsheathe it. The red stone settled into the hilt of this terrifying saber greatly resembles the shape of an eye. If it even is a stone. The ghost keeps his grip on it steady, but the sword shakes. Its eye spinning furiously, as if it were crying.

Feng Xin swears he sees the eye of this calamity sparkle in irrational hope. The pure absurd hope of a child waiting to poke holes in a stranger’s story.

But only for an instant.

It breaks Feng Xin to shatter that hope. “He took his own life,” motioning to the noose in his hand.

It almost feels like half an incense time passes before either of them moves again.

Feng Xin watches in horror as the ghost recognizes the faint trace of Xie Lian on the bandage. Just like how Feng Xin did after taking the body down, this ghost sees the shadow of Xie Lian’s life energy woven into the bandage. This type of residue is only ever imbued into weapons that have taken lives. Shadows of the souls it’s taken reflected in its essence until the day the weapon is destroyed.

Feng Xin could never mistake the presence of Xie Lian’s soul.

This ghost appears to react in the same way.

There is no mistaking it. Because he somehow sees a bit himself in this ghost. The bit he hides. And he hides it well.

Self-inflicted or not. This bandage killed Xie Lian.

Feng Xin realizes all too late how this could be taken the wrong way. He worries this ghost won’t believe him. Or worse. That he would assume that he himself had killed Xie Lian and kept the bandage as a souvenir.

Feng Xin inwardly recoils at his own thoughts, he would never… could never.

But this ghost doesn’t know him. And being in the immediate path of an impossibly strong and angry ghost is simply dancing with death.

The red clad man is the first to break the silence. His killing intent skyrockets much higher than it had before.

Feng Xin prepares himself to react.

But the man doesn’t attack. “You failed him indeed,” he deadpans.

Then he wordlessly removes something small from the ends of his hair and tosses it at Feng Xin as he turns to leave.

Feng Xin lets him. He has the briefest of thoughts to call out to him. To the part of himself that he sees in him.

I’m sorry.

But he doesn’t.

He catches the object while he lets the ghost go. He looks down at the tiny round ball that pricked his hand and stares in disbelief. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was the matching pair to the coral pearl earring currently pierced in own his left ear. The earring that went missing all those years ago. The second of Xie Lian’s coral pearl earrings.

This failed bodyguard stands alone on Mount Yu Jun holding a bandage in his hand tied in the shape of a noose. The same bandage that killed his prince. And the only person he had ever really loved with his own heart.

Only just now does Feng Xin realize that he is silently crying. He doesn’t know for how long he has been though.

He remembers that ghost’s reaction to his words. Did the tears start then? Could that have influenced the ghost’s decision to leave? Or maybe the ghost recognized the pearl in his own ear?

Why?

Feng Xin is then yanked from his stupor as a loud *CRACK* erupts from the exact direction the ghost had left.

He bolts to follow the source of the noise but finds no one.

Upon further investigation there is only one thing out of place. A brief reflection of moonlight on metal from the ground catches his eye.

He kneels down to look closer.

His fingers card through the grass to find the source. He picks it up between three fingers.

A silver chain.

And next to it, a white ceramic ring, fractured largely into two pieces.

Feng Xin catches a different flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head.

Only a few chi away, a single small ghostly silver butterfly crumbles into glittering ash before it can fly away.

He remembers the silver butterflies on the ghost’s red robes.

Oh.

You miss him too, huh?

Maybe if Feng Xin wasn’t such a coward and a failure, he would’ve taken that way out years ago. But now the idea is more prominent in his mind.

After all, he doesn’t have a piercing for that second earring yet.

.

.

.

fin

[odetothestars]

Once again a very incoherent, not spell checked, all over the place ramble that might not make any sense (lmk if I need to clarify something)

But I think this one is kinda important? At least, it is to me. Before you decide how you feel about this, do me a favour and at least try to actually read/digest it first!

Something I think desperately needs to happen within multiple fandoms is working through your internalized misogyny…because people on this app are a little too comfortable stereotyping, belittling, sexualizing, devaluing, and just generally disrespecting women or fem presenting people. It’s usually pretty subtle, but the micro aggressions are definitely there.

I see fics where the only time female characters are mentioned is if they pipe in to say something snarky or when male characters are talking about their appearance/desire to sleep with them.

The example of misogyny that I see the most often is in mlm ship writing where one of the characters tagged as fem!x and that character is very often portrayed/described as:

- “Emotional, dramatic, whiny, clingy, soft, delicate, fragile”

- They’re dependent, usually being provided for by someone else

- They’re the subordinate/“beta” in a relationship

- They’re “helpless” and need protecting

- They’re interested shallow things (appearance, money, class, etc.)

- They have an “attitude”

- Their hobbies consist of baking, shopping, decorating

- They’re looked at like a trophy, something pretty to win and own

- There’s a strong emphasis of their appearance (slender, rosy cheeks, sharp features) and sexuality especially

I’m sure many of you have read at least one fic tagged as fem!*insert male chatacter name here* and this is the character description you were shown, no?

Before you yell at me, there is nothing inherently wrong about that characterization! It’s completely fine to live your life that way, it’s okay to be into superficial things, it’s okay to want to be protected, it’s okay to have someone provide for you, etc. Slay however you want!

My problem is that this characterization is NOT A TRUE REFLECTION OF WHAT FEMININITY IS. The issue isn’t in these traits themselves, I have some of those traits myself, the problem is using these traits to prove that a character is more feminine. It’s so stereotypical, surface level, and old-fashioned, and reduces the beauty of being feminine to a caricature. Whether you like it or not, whether you mean it or not, this is misogyny. Feminine people/characters can be strong, brave, intelligent, hardworking, independent. Being feminine is something that I’m very proud of, and I hate seeing it be reduced to something it isn’t. This is deeper than just not personally liking the way a character is written. This is misogyny.

Not to mention the super masc x super fem characterization is super heteronormative and also a stereotype in itself but I digress.

I’m not telling anyone they need to drop these kinds of characterizations, I’m just saying you should probably take a good minute to reflect on your motives and how you really feel think about femininity deep down. Is it something you truly views as inferior? Why? Do you want to change that? What are some ways can you?

Don’t even get me started on the literal abuse of fem characters in fics and novels. Yes, there are pieces of fiction where masc characters are victims, which is horrifying, I just see it the most often against fem characters. It’s absolutely disgusting that people are romanticizing and glorifying abuse of anyone, but that’s a topic for another time.

I typically subscribe to “don’t like don’t read” unless we’re talking about stuff the is genuinely offensive or harmful to an entire group of people. If I see an au, ship, plot, or general writing style I don’t particularly like, I will simply swipe passed and move on with my day (you should to). But when fics are written with any kind of internal bias (misogyny, homophobia *including heteronormativity*, transphobia, racism, etc.) behind them or have elements of glorified abuse, there is a genuine issue and I’m not just gonna scroll and pretend that it isn’t super fucked up, because it is. It’s fucked up! Touch grass and breath fresh air PLEASE.

Sure, I can’t stop anyone from writing or reading what they want, they’re free to do so, but that means they are also free to deal with criticisms of it.

If this upset anyone, I genuinely am very sorry, it wasn’t be intention to offend you. Unpacking things like internalized bias can be really difficult, but I think it’s important to have conversations like this so we can learn and grow from each other. Feel free to share you thoughts, try to be respectful if you can:)

*Tags are not a direct call out to any ship or fandom. I have seen this in multiple different fandoms with multiple different ships. This is just a primarily HP blog, hence why tags are HP*

[deadandwalking]

some things for Fen’s blog because it’s my favourite thing rn i have never been happier than pretending to be this gooby guy.

Roleplay

not much is changing in the roleplay aspects! you’re free to start whatever you want :) although now i am welcoming dms here or there if you’d like to plot a story with me before you begin, or need some help with starting an rp!

also, the intro post will now include a list of characters! if i enjoyed your roleplay enough to consider it canon to this au, you and your character will be listed and all our posts will have a special tag!

i do also accept cross-fandom roleplay, but unless you can think of a way to interlink them, you will not be canon!

canon characters and ocs are welcome!

also, i do character building! if you need help making an oc, i will do that! i can help with stories, species, powers/abilities, appearances, and more! <3

you do not HAVE to have a character!! if you are only sending asks or are part of a non-canon roleplay, you can just be yourself!

Asks

as before, you can ask Fen anything! the questions can be silly or serious. asks can also be interpreted as requests: you can ask him to do something, say something, or complete tasks for you! you can also use the ask box to chat to him :)

i will probably respond to asks as soon as you send them if i’m not sleeping or busy because i am lonely :’)

Lore

as previously stated, you people can alter this au’s lore!

but i will be dropping bits of Fen’s lore and character through asks and roleplay :)

if you would like a roleplay to include your lore, then let me know ahead of time, and give me a vague idea of what that looks like!

Other Things

Fen is not opposed to things like venting or infodumping, but please note the answers will be in character! and if i myself am not able to handle venting at the time you will be ignored until i am ready

if you say anything purposefully triggering to Fen that is not related to a current roleplay and that is relevant, i will ignore you

if you are treating him like his canon equivalent, you will be ignored

you will be blocked if the issue is recurring.

Asking as Creepypastas

this is allowed! as long as you sign off as whatever pasta you are playing, Fen will interact with you as such! but note, he will treat you as his versions of the pasta unless we have a previously established roleplay/au or something in which they are different :)

Roleplaying Creepypastas

this is also allowed! you can make a sideblog or have a specific tag/sign off/something else if you wish to roleplay a canon character!

if it is one of Fen’s siblings, we may need to establish some things first - either you will have to follow certain headcanons to the best of your abilities or we will establish some au thing

if you have a creepypasta oc, then that’s free game! you’ll follow the same rules as any other character in this case.

if it’s a slender creature thingy oc that is related, we will need to figure something out! i doubt Fen just forgot a brother or something!!

[beacansidhe]

An AU where homesteader and bird enthusiast Diluc finally indulges in his lifelong dream of raising peafowl, starting with a beautiful peacock he drove halfway across Teyvat to pick up. He dotes upon the gorgeous bird for three days, until he goes to check up on a suspicious sound on the third night and discovers not his new, beloved pet, but a slender, naked, breathtakingly beautiful man lounging in his enclosure instead.

“Oh, hello.” The man, who had been stretched out across the bench in the enclosure, displaying every curve and angle of his sculpted body like an artist’s muse, sits up and stretches. “I didn’t expect to see you here so late. I don’t suppose you have something more substantial to eat, do you? I don’t like this kind of thing.” He gestures to the birdfeed in the dish across the enclosure, hardly pecked at. “Also, it’s very cold in Mondstadt. I’m used to much warmer temperatures. Your attempt at heating the enclosure is a good start, but look at my skin. I’m freezing!”

Diluc’s breath comes out in a gust. “Clothes?”

“Hm? Oh, well, I suppose.”

“You need to put on clothes.”

“I’m afraid those would be within your purview, dear owner.”

“You need to put on clothes and get the fuck off my property before I call the Knights.”

The man looks stunned. His surprise morphs into fear as Diluc stalks into the enclosure, fists balled at his side, rage eclipsing his red, red eyes.  

“Where is my bird? What the fuck did you do to him, you creep?”

“I feel there has been some sort of misunderstanding here—”

“I haven’t misunderstood a damn thing. Get out before I make you get out, and tell me where you put the bird. I am more than capable of making your life hell.”

The strange, beautiful man backs himself into a wall as Diluc approaches with speed, and shoves out his hand, signaling him to stop.

“Wait!” He pushes back his stunning blue hair, iridescent in the bright lamplight much like a peacock’s plumage, and gestures to his right eye—which is scarred conspicuously just like his beloved bird’s.  

Diluc stops in his tracks, all the ire he had been carrying in his body draining out of him instantly.

“Yes, do you see? I am the bird.”

When Diluc makes no further attempts to charge at him, the man relaxes somewhat, next gesturing to his right ankle, which is red and indented in the same general shape as the broken leg tag he picks up out of the bedding. Diluc had put that tag on him this morning.

“Name,” he says curtly.

“Pardon?”

“What is the name of my peacock?”

The man sighs dramatically, as if displeased. “Dawn.”

He should continue interrogating this man making such an outrageous claim, but he is distracted by a much more pressing thought. “Is there something wrong with the name?”

The man—Dawn?—shrugged, looking blasé. “I think it’s a good name in theory, but for a peacock? I think you could have done a bit better, don’t you?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Dawn’?” Diluc sounds petulant even to his own ears.

“Have you ever seen a sunrise with these colours?” ‘Dawn’ gestures to his body—still distractingly nude—and picks up a loose feather from the ground, twirling it between his fingers. “I certainly haven’t.”

“Well, if it’s such a bad name, what would you have chosen?”

“Kaeya,” the man says, without even thinking about it, and graces Diluc with a charming smile so arresting it makes his heart skip a beat. “At least, that’s what my parents named me.”

Diluc trudges over to the bench, utterly dazed, and collapses onto the seat with his head in his hands, trying to process this absurd turn of events.

“You’ve heard of werewolves, I’m sure?”

Diluc covers his mouth, staring into the middle distance. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Well, wolves are not the only animal capable of changing form as the moon wills it. I come from a long, proud lineage of peafowl who take a human form once the sun falls. Or perhaps it was the other way around. It’s a curse, you see, from many moons ago…”

Diluc lets Dawn—Kaeya—prattle on, tuning him out as he considers the situation. How could he even consider believing this? He considers himself quite the rational person, but perhaps it’s that very rationality making him accept this as fact. The evidence—the scar, the leg, a name that no one but himself and his bird could know—is compelling, and why would someone trespass on his property, steal his bird, then hunker down, nude, in its enclosure? Surely no one was that mad.

“…But I got a little bit rambunctious, you see, and found myself caught up with that strange little rancher you purchased me from. I suppose it could have been worse, though. You drove from so far away, just for me! I was flattered.”

Diluc takes another glance at this man and looks away when he sees him sitting very improperly in the corner, knees up and legs spread. He’s never seen—he’s never been in this close proximity with a naked man before. A man whom he is very attracted to. His thoughts wander, his eyes unfocused.

“Were you planning on breeding me, by the way?”

Diluc nearly faints, and his freckled cheeks flare crimson. “Pardon me?!”

Kaeya stares at him like he knows something about Diluc that Diluc does not know.

“Were you planning on purchasing hens for me to breed with? Because I have to say, that might be a bit difficult for me. Not quite to my tastes, you see.”

Diluc opens his mouth, searches for words, finds none. Closes it again.

“Though, if your heart is set upon breeding me…” Kaeya rises to his feet, and prowls over to Diluc, more akin to a limber cat than a bird. He slides next to him on the bench, and Diluc lets him nuzzle into the crook of his neck, where he places his soft, human lips at the shell of his ear, and whispers in the husk of a vixen, “There is another option you could choose that I think might suit us both perfectly.”

And that is how Diluc acquired a housemate, a muse, a lover—and still does not own any peafowl.   

[xblubotx]

The Similarities in two FNAF fan works, canon and fanon. DSAF.

Just kinda wanna bring something up, because it’s something I recognize and not many people really bring it up. If you are reading this, I’m assuming you aware of the Day Shift at Freddy’s series and remember the Rebornica AU, aka veteran fan or knowledgeable fan. If not, go look them up because I’m not explaining what they are here.

Anyways, if you know your timeline, you know the Rebornica AU came first, then DSAF. Something that caught my attention in DSAF back in the day was the phone guy, being his head was a red dial phone, just like Scott from the Rebornica AU. I always thought that was maybe a reference to the AU, like a fan work referencing another fan work. I don’t know how true that is, nor do I know if there has been confirmation from the creator. Though I will say DSAF is more appealing with its phone guys, as they later explain where they come from, how they are made, and the different types of phone heads. Where as the R AU just had Scott wearing a phone head as part of the job, never really explained. But that’s the only canon part of this I have.

The next one is on the fanon side, that is people’s varies human depictions of Dave Miller in fanart. Now, looking through the #dsaf dave miller tag on tumblr gives you many different types of Daveys. Some I prefer more than others. No offense, but I just don’t think Dave would like a cute anime boy I’m sorry, I imagine he’s older. But one thing that MOST (not all just a majority that give him hair) of these depictions have in common is the LONG HAIR/Ponytail. Now, I don’t know if it’s our collective consciousness or that it’s on Tumblr or what but it’s clear most of us blatantly pull this from one of the earliest and most well known fan depictions of the Purple Guy in general and former Tumblr Sexyman, Vincent. Going all the way down to the red hair tie. With that said, because of Dave’s slender body type, I think people tend to give him much longer hair/ponytails Vincent could only dream of. Personally, I think it depends on the design, and for most of what I’ve seen it works well, and plus, I need my dose of men with long hair anyway.

But if you are one of the few artists who go for the biblical accurate Dave Miller, god fucking bless you, I’m still trying to find a way to make that work.

[vanilla-lavender17]

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring All Might and a male reader in an Aladdin AU with gags and servitude please? In the fic Toshinori is a street rat who gets caught by a powerful lord. But rather then turning him in, the lord offers to keep him fed and safe in exchange for his services. So Toshi would have his hands and barefeet shackled and his mouth cloth gagged. You can decide on the chores he'd do along with any intimate acts. What do you think?

Love this idea! I worked hard and procrastinated this so much. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Male reader(He/him used), Reader is a top, Mild dub-con (blink and you miss it), bondage, power dynamics. (Lmk if I missed some)

Ao3 tags: Alternate universe-fantasy, Alternate universe, Inspired by Aladdin, Alternate universe-Aladdin(Disney movies) Fusion, Gay male character, Male slash, Male protag, Anal sex, Anal, Mild dubious content, No lube, spit as lube, come as lube, Power dynamics, Power play, Bottom Yagi Toshinori | All might, porn with plot, some plot, alternate universe-porn, I wrote this instead of sleeping

Thieves and Locks

Miserable. Just miserable. The day was Miserable. It was hot, a blazing sun hidden amidst the busy streets. The markets were full, children running around as their parents hushed them, business men and merchants charming and manipulating their way through sales, buskers singing and swaying to the music of their drums.

For and average person, this would seem typical, but for a street rat, it was miserable. No shelter from the sun, no food, and the worst of it, no way to make or steal a dime. Not with the crowds, the musicians, the authorities, not with the busyness. Not with anything. But that didn’t stop people from trying.

There stood a hooded man with a slender body, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. His name, Toshinori. He stumbled through the streets, looking for anything he could get his hands on. Bread, apples, wheats, vegetables, anything that could be of value. Anything.

The man sped up, his search was unsuccessful thus far, nothing nothing nothing. He walked faster, growing annoyed. Annoyed at his hunger, annoyed at his discomfort, annoyed at everything. Everything-

The man stopped; something caught his eye. Something….shiny. It was new, it was beautiful, it was expensive. A bracelet, tied prettily around someone’s wrist. Toshinori gazed up, looking for the owner. What he saw, however, was…unexpected. His eyes widened, panic filled him.

It was the prince.

He gulped, surely the lord could spare a bracelet, make a new one perhaps? Toshinori didn’t know. He just needed something to justify taking it. Something to combat his moral. His mind raced, his thoughts a war zone. Each idea being quickly debunked, each image, each concept, quickly ceased to exist. What did it matter? Toshinori was a street rat, a worthless being without money, food, or even a job. So, what did it matter. What could he ever have to lose?

And thus he approached the lord, pretending to crash into him. The lord fell suddenly and Toshinori faked his worry.

“Ah! My Lord! My apologies! I am deeply sorry!” Toshinori bowed, reaching a hand out to help the lord up. The nobleman took it and pulled himself up with force. His gaze locked into Toshinori’s. Toshinori smiled, looking the prince in the eye as he quickly undid the tie or the jewels. The prince didn’t seem to notice, focused on the rat in front of him. Toshinori pulled his hand as quick as it reached, swiftly shoving the jewels in his pocket.

“Are you alright my lord?” The street rat condoled, causing the nobility to cock an eyebrow. “I’m quite all right, now get out of my face. I wish not to be seen with such…Filth.” The prince turned his body, shunning the rat, and Toshinori slid away.

The prince scoffed. Such filth in his country. It was disgusting. The lord’s hand reached down to fidget with the gold of his wrist, but has he grasped his wrist, he felt nothing. The man’s eyes filled with realization, anger swelling in his stomach. “That little-!” He spun around, searching for the figure of the man.

“That man stole my bracelet!!” The lord screamed, authorities rushing over to the lord. “Well???? Didn’t you hear me! He stole my bracelet! Get him!” Yowled the nobleman, his gaze never leaving the figure.

The authorities rushed over, running after the silhouette. Toshinori spun around, eyes filling with panic, he sprinted. Hopping through buildings and stairwells, ducking under fallen planks and low roofs. Toshinori swung his head back to gaze upon the men chasing him, and thus he hadn’t noticed the group of people cornering him.

Hearing a voice, he whipped his head around, and then that was it. A swift punch to the face and he was out cold. His head ringing as he desperately held onto his consciousness, blood dripping down his face. His body collapsed; the rat went limp.

The lord ran over, his eyes glaring down the thief. In an instant, he reached down and snatched the jewelry, tying it around his wrist.

“Take him to the palace. I’ll be back soon. Assure me he won’t wake up before I get back.”

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Toshinori slowly awoke, his eyes peeking open. Toshinori’s mind was hazy in his semi-conscious state. His body felt numb, a faint aching pain in his lower abdomen. His gaze searched the room, where was he? It was certainly not Agrabah[1], no, it was the palace.

The walls were neatly patterned with limestone and brick, the floor of stone. Marbled patterns formed pillars and thrones, the floor decorated with exquisite rugs and furs. Only the best of the best could afford this magnificent castle.

Suddenly Toshinori was aware of his surroundings, a voice pulling him from his thoughts. “Well, rat, are you going to speak or what? Are you suddenly braindead?” The voice spoke. Toshinori threw his head up, it was the lord, covered in a magnificent Sherwani, decorated with jewels and lace, sitting down on a marbled chair. The lord scoffed. “Quit staring.” The nobleman’s voice ringing throughout the enchanting room. The prince crossed his legs and arms, his gaze piercing through the street rat. “Have anything to say for yourself?” The lord taunted, untying the jewelry around his wrist. His hand rose and he swayed the precious bracelet high in the air for all eyes to see.

Toshinori gulped, shamefully staring back at the prince. He opened his mouth to speak, and yet, no words came. Sheepishly, he shook his head, his gaze never leaving the lord’s. A smirk formed on the lord’s lips; eyes tainted with malice.

“With that little stunt, I could get you killed. In fact, its required by law you die. However, I’m nice. Therefore, I’m giving you options.” Toshinori shifted, suddenly aware of the tight bounds on his wrists. The lord laughed, placing the bracelet back on his wrist.

“I’m assuming you’re questioning what said options are? Well, in truth, its one or the other. You can chose to have me turn you in to be executed, or..” The lord paused, standing up from his seat, he lowered down to Toshinori’s level, a hand gently placed under the thief’s chin. “You could repay me in a more.. obscene fashion.” The lord leaned closer to Toshinori. “I could tie you up all pretty and make you my little servant, hm?”

Toshinori’s eyes widened, it felt unreal. A man he had stolen from, the prince no less, had just asked him that? It was unreal. It had to be. This must just be a dream, he’s probably still unconscious from that punch, right?

And yet it was real. Real, real, real. He had just been asked to be a sex slave of the prince.

It was more uncomfortable than anything; shackles tightened around his wrists and ankles, holding him in place. It was cool where he was, conflicting with the hot air outside. Toshinori squirmed in his place, grunting as the metal strained against his wrist.

“So cute. It’s funny, really. Seeing you all tied up, at my mercy.” The lord’s finger traced along the edge of the shackles. Digits ghosting along pale skin. They went farther, and farther, and farther.. until they stopped right before..

“Thievery has no place in royalty. Attempting to steal from a prince, how unsavory.” His fingers pulled away as quick as they came, leaving Toshinori hanging..Literally. The lord laughed.

“One thing before we start, dear.” The prince grabbed a piece of cloth and rolled it into a ball. “Open.”

Toshinori unclenched his jaw and opened it, the feeling of cotton in his mouth was enough to make him gag, and yet he bit down, fearful of what the prince might do. The lord ran a hand along Toshinori’s jaw, feeling the rough texture from years of damage.

The lord smiled, a sinister glint .hidden in his eyes. The lord’s hands once again traced Toshinori’s body, this time however, he didn’t stop. The prince roughly grasped Toshinori’s leaking cock, harshly stroking it. The street rat moaned, muffled by the cloth, hips jerking forward.

The prince scoffed, his hand pulling forcefully away. “Pathetic, really. That desperate for my touch?” The nobleman chuckled, his hand returning to Toshinori’s aching cock. The lord’s fingers traced the tip, his index rubbing it’s opening. “My my, you’re leaking so much. You must be enjoying this? Ha, how pitiful.” The lord continued his ministrations, abusing the poor tip of Toshinori’s cock.

Toshinori began to squirm in his place, muffled moans and whines echoing through the lord’s ears like sweet honey. The prince began to stroke the street rat’s cock once more, gently this time. For a moment, the prince stopped. He walked behind Toshinori, crotch against the rat’s ass, then he continued.

The lord ground himself into the rat, letting his own moans and grunts fill the room. With each roll of his hips, he would stroke Toshinori faster. It didn’t take long for the lord to begin to grow inpatient, opting to take his pants and underwear off. Simultaneously, he began to stroke both of them, the lord’s moans growing louder. The lord kept stroking them faster, and faster, and faster. Until, with a final stroke, he came. Ropes of white spurting out onto Toshinori’s back, grunts and moans as loud as ever.

The lord continued to ride out his high, still stroking Toshinori. Toshinori’s eyes widened as he came, hips shaking in their place. The two stood still for a moment, the lord silently getting undressed all the way.

“You ready, rat?” The lord questioned, spitting on his hand. Using the mix of semen and spit, he slid into Toshinori. Toshinori’s muffled groans of pain filling the lord’s ears. The lord held still for a minute, resting his head on Toshinori’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath, I wouldn't want this to be too uncomfortable. I might be a sadist but I’m not a monster.”

Toshinori groaned, squirming around in his confinements. The prince laughed, before slowly beginning to move his hips, his tempo slow yet steady. Toshinori cried, it felt so..weird. He continued to take deep breaths, although it wasn’t very useful considering The lord’s slowly fastening speed.

The lord continued to buck his hips desperately into Toshinori. It was so good..! He was so tight. The lord’s arms wrapped around Toshinori’s waist, pulling him closer, his speed growing quicker by the moment.

Eventually, all sense of discomfort had disappeared from Toshinori, the only thing he could focus on was the lord’s harsh and swift thrusts. The lord’s heavy breaths turned into moans. “Hah! You’re so- ngh! Tight.” The lord praised, his hips beginning to sputter with every thrust. “Mm..I’m close! Hah.” The prince buried his head deep into Toshinori’s neck, his teeth biting through the rough flesh, causing Toshinori to throw his head back.

“Hah! My god! I’m cumming! Hah- ah!” With one final thrust, the lord plunged deep inside Toshinori, releasing inside. The lord paused for a moment, his body still. Soon, though, he pulled out, a trail of cum following.

“You did well, rat. Maybe next time ill remove that pretty little gag, hm?”

[1] Agrabah- The city where Aladdin is set to take place.

[merryfortune]

After the Storm (in the Backyard)

Written for Multiamory March 2023

Day 2: Supernatural

Title: After the Storm (in the Backyard)

Ship: Saviorshipping | Ryoken/Spectre/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,497

Tags: Alternate Universe - Youkai, Meet Cute, Childhood Friends

AN: I’ve had this AU in mind for a year or two so it was nice to finally write it down

   It had rained all through the night but now, come morning, the skies were clear and an azure blue. Not a cloud to be seen, nor was it even overly windy. Instead, it was fresh and balmy with puddles on the ground, with a breeze that was a charming and cool spritz down below. There were birds singing, their nests having survived the storm but, for all the serenity of the morning, there was a stranger in the backyard.

   He was dressed in a pale purple kimono and standing by the far tree which had taken quite the beating during the storm. It was missing a branch, maybe two, all its foliage had fallen off and already, it looked worse for wear.

   From their vantage point in the kitchen, Ryoken and Spectre had no idea what to do. They were currently hiding behind the kitchen sink, the morning sunlight coming in through the window just above, the curtains fluttered slightly as they tried not to panic. Occasionally, they ducked up and popped out in order to see if he was still there. 

   He was.

   Lingering, almost, looking around left to right, as though waiting for something, his hands hidden in the billowing sleeves of his garb that he wore - and it was rather pretty garb.

   “Where did he come from?” Spectre hissed.

   “I don’t know.” Ryoken hissed back.

   “Should we call the police?” Spectre asked.

   “And tell them what? We have someone peacefully loitering in our backyard? I’m sure they would just tell us to get him to move along on our own.” Ryoken replied.

   “Then… should we try to ask him to leave?” Spectre grimaced.

   “I - I suppose, so.” Ryoken stiltedly replied.

   Neither liked the idea very much but it was the only idea they had so. They rose to the occasion and to their full heights. Together, they slunk out the sliding door and made no sudden movements as they approached the young man in the kimono.

   His serious expression lightened, but only slightly. The corners of his mouth upturned, not in a smile but it was certainly a kinder expression to the dour look he wore before. There was even an expectant light in the green of his eyes.

   “I was wondering when you’d come outside. I didn’t want to be rude and go inside since we’ve never been inside together.” he said.

   Ryoken and Spectre exchanged a very concerned look. With just their eyes alone they asked one another and replied: “Do you know this person?” 

   And a resounding, “No, absolutely not.”

   With just the strain of their pupils and then back unto the youth. He did not look familiar at all, one would absolutely remember someone with such a dashing streak of pink in his hair or his slender frame. His countenance, as well, was rather unique, too, in that it was distant yet overly familiar - on one side.

   He closed his eyes as he bowed forward, “Though we’ve known each other all our lives, please, allow me to introduce myself properly, Ryo-chan, Spe-chan. My name is Yusaku and it is a pleasure to finally say so.” He opened his eyes as he released his courtesy. He blinked, confused, by

   Ryoken and Spectre were very taken aback by Yusaku’s introduction. The pet names, in particular, were not only gauche and embarrassing but were exclusively between themselves. Though, they hadn’t used those pet names at all, in recent memory, and now called forth memories of their halcyon childhood days, playing chaseys in the backyard and playing red-light, green-light��� in front of this very tree.

   The one which was now all but dead and had Yusaku standing in front of it.

   Spectre glanced at Ryoken. No, it couldn’t be. Surely that was too odd even for him to say but he had to take that chance.

   “Yusaku, just who are you?” Spectre asked, his suspicions furled in the furrow of his brow.

   “Fujiki Yusaku, the spirit of this wisteria tree.” Yusaku replied.

   “I thought so.” Spectre said but he seemed - and sounded - quite concerned.

   Ryoken glanced between them both. Surely it was not possible but Yusaku’s eerie appearance. It became more obvious as he turned, just slightly, so that he could place his hand on the tree. It was at this profile that the sharpness of his ears were shown off, they were elfin. His hands, too, were odd. There was a glimpse of impossibly purple veins on the inside of his wrists and his nails were more like claws, too.

   So, perhaps it was possible. Spirits, ghosts, and other phantasms in this day and age. Not just horror stories from the frivolity of the past long since gone. Yet Ryoken’s practical mind kept him from entertaining the notion. He was the son of a scientist and that impacted him. He wasn’t ready to take hearsay on such a top. 

   He wasn’t as open to the idea of it, not like Spectre was. Spectre was completely unlike him that way. He had been an abandoned baby, left in the wilderness, and by all accounts, he should have died in those circumstances. From frostbite or starvation but something had kept him protected and he always felt it was the spirit of a tree.

   To have one - in the spiritual flesh and bone, in pure visage like Yusaku right now - it was both a miracle and comforting to him. Thus, Spectre listened intently as Yusaku explained his origins. 

   “I came of age approximately twenty years ago, that’s when my consciousness surfaced and I became aware of my surroundings,” Yusaku explained, he sounded a little airy to be speaking about himself, “and I got to watch you both grow and play. Now, at one hundred years of age, I’ve fully manifested and shed my original vessel. It's sad to be parted from my own being but, look,” Yusaku turned his head, “now my wish has come true.”

   “Your wish?” Ryoken echoed. “Just what exactly is your wish?”

   “I wanted to be with you both.” Yusaku replied, blithe. He reached out and took both Ryoken and Spectre’s hands. “I’ve watched you both grow up and without realising it, I was always there so I’m very happy to have my wish come true.”

   Spectre frowned, he ripped his hand out of Yusaku’s, “So our wisteria tree? Will it recover from having you parted from it?”

   Ryoken wanted to sigh and chide Spectre. There were more pressing questions to ask but it was Spectre and he had to admit. Looking at how the wisteria tree had become so withered, a husk, behind Yusaku, it did sadden him. He could all too easily imagine it in its prime, in its beauty.

   The hanging, purple flowers that made for the perfect shade in a hot summer’s day, a place to play. When it wasn’t in flower, it was a good post for them to involve in their games. Ryoken’s heart ached for those childhood memories with his lover. It even ached, bittersweet, for stories he had been told of previous generations of his family caring and tending for this tree, of picnics his grandparents had had and even his own Father had proposed to his Mother under this tree. 

   A gesture that he had even replicated with Spectre, not just when they were playing house but far more recently than that. He had been so thrilled when Spectre had accepted his proposal but now, he had an inkling something was about to change if the truth really was as the tree spirit said it was.

   All in all, the wisteria tree was an important centrepiece of their little world. And when Yusaku spoke, it snapped Ryoken from his reverie. Though he was still unconvinced that Yusaku wasn’t some sort of intruder or charlatan. 

   “If I remain here, it will recuperate, I promise.” Yusaku said.

   “Good.” Spectre replied, he didn’t exactly perk up but he was pleased with that answer. “Now, would you like to come inside for breakfast? I was just about to begin preparing it before Ryoken and I noticed you out here.”

   “I would like that, thank you.” Yusaku said.

   “Wh-What?” Ryoken stammered. “We don’t know for sure if he is pulling the wool over our eyes or not.”

   “Well, we can’t be perceptive on empty stomachs then.” Spectre said. “But, for what it's worth, I believe him. I’ve always thought trees had spirits, after all.”

   “That’s true.” Ryoken reluctantly grumbled.

   “Come on now.” Spectre said.

   “Yeah, we have a lot of catching up to do.” Yusaku added.

   Spectre turned around and Yusaku padded along behind him, Ryoken was entirely outnumbered. Arriving at the dining room table, whilst Spectre made breakfast and Yusaku seemed quietly excited to be inside at all with the two people he loved most.

   And so beginning, a new and quirky, supernatural love story of two childhood friends and the tree spirit determined to insert himself into their lives after watching for so long. The End.