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sanstropfremir · 4 years ago

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Hey love, hope you're having a nice day

My mom strongly believes Taemin has a thing for using some sort of element to cover his head in most of his MVs. Obviously we're both too dumb to catch the symbolism (if any) so I thought why not ask someone who knows?

So what do you think? Is there any deep reason behind the head bags or is it just an aesthetic thing?

anon!!!! mwah!!! i'm having a better day because you sent this in!!!!

your mom is right, taemin absolutely has a thing for covering his head, specifically his face! you can see masks and/or veils (under the cut):

in the hit the stage performance of sayonara hitori

in the offsick concert teaser

in the nippon budokan performance of i’m crying

in the move mv here (there are several shots from this scene), and here

in the want mv here

there’s a quick shot of him pulling off a veil in criminal

and of course, advice. and again.

also some other images:

1. from the ngda act 1 promo photos

2. from the 2kids promo photos

3. from the move album scans

4. the cover of ngda act 2 messiah version

5. an actual bag over his head in the criminal mv

6. from the most recent short vcr in the ngda beyond live

7. from the sayonara hitori album scans

this is not an exhaustive list because i know i’ve missed some; i'm 80% sure there was a mask with the red outfit in the ngda act 1 scans but this is enough examples i think to show that it’s definitely deliberate. and i'm not even bringing up all the times he physically covers his face with a body part or it’s obscured through an effect, because then we gotta talk about the famous choreography, the idea choreography, the just me and you vcr, and countless promo photos and album scans from essentially every era in his entire solo career.

the backbone of the kpop industry in its current state is the idols' faces. human nature has proven time and time again that the easiest way to catch an audience is through a pretty face (by whatever the standards are at the time), and in an industry built on militant commercialism, of course the emphasis is going to be on those faces. you can see it in every bit of content. turning physical albums into mass collectibles, with multiple versions, giant photobooks, photocards. an idol’s face IS their uniform. when an idol doesn’t want to be seen, what's the first thing they do? cover their face. (and people still take pictures of them anyways). i’ve seen countless times on vlives and ig lives where an idol is wearing a mask and there will be a stream of “show us your face <3”’s until they do. their face is their brand. every decision a stylist, a publicist, a company makes is to optimize exactly how beautiful they can make their idols look, because that’s by and large what the fans want. obviously it's a product of the larger trend in unattainable beauty standards fueled by social media, but i'm not going to talk much about that, because it's a lot. if you’ve followed me for long enough (probably just for more than a few days tbh, since i talk about it constantly), you’ll have noticed that i'm a huge proponent of ‘ugly’ hair trends, and i'm a huge proponent of ugly styling in general. when idols have to be fashion models as well as inhuman performing machines, you’re setting them up to everything that plagues that industry as well, which means massive complexes about their faces and bodies, in the most mild of terms.

‘ugliness’ has freedom in it. part of the reason why i’ve gone extra insane for advice as a whole is because it IS ugly. taemin’s extensions ARE awful. his hands are blackened and dirty the whole mv, and so are portions of his body. he’s visibly flaunting his real tattoos*, which are still deeply stigmatized in the east. we see him get in a car crash. in arguably the most flattering/conventionally attractive outfit, he’s got heavy mascara tear tracks. the song isn’t particularly melodic, the choreography is childish and jerky, the lyrics directly call out the people that treat him like an object. and of course, the mask. all of these are cracks in the facade, confronting us, on purpose, with the crumbling of his perpetually pretty, perfect persona. he's hurt, he's angry, he's got his hands deep in the grime of living in the public eye that the public refuses to see, and now he's going to smear it all over himself until you DO see it. at the end of the mv his triumph is not that he washes himself clean, but that he paints overtop. gesso on an old canvas; a fresh start, but fundamentally informed by the things underneath.

taemin uses masks as a way to deface himself. both in the literal sense of removing his face from the equation but also in the synonomic sense of the destruction, the obliteration, the vandalization of himself. of his brand. known as sm’s pretty boy since he was 14, who is he if he doesn’t have his face?

as a general device the masks are an entreaty to address him on his own artistic merit. but they do often have specific meanings within their contexts. in the i’m crying performance it is to remove himself as an entity all together; he is anonymous now, an unseen narrator to the performers on stage.** in move and want it’s for emphasis on his body; proof that he can still ensnare you with his limbs alone. pulling off the veil/reversing it back on in criminal as a revealing/concealing of the two sides of himself on display in the mv. the literal suffocation of one of those sides with a plastic bag. the voice in idea says ‘you are my messiah,’ but the cover of the album denies confirmation of that identity.

there’s more to be dug into here, especially with the ngda act 2 photos but i’d have to go back through my catholic iconography notes again and this would be a lot longer than it already is. i’m also looking at this from a western perspective, there are undoubtedly double meanings specific to a korean context that i haven’t clocked. but that’s the reason i love his work so much! it stands up to a lot of rigorous analysis and there’s always going to be something that i don’t catch right away, something more to learn.

---

* we learned like yesterday that his hip tattoo is a peony, which he named as symbolizing freedom. peonies tend to have primarily positive meanings across east asian cultures, but in victorian floriography, they mean shame and sometimes anger.

** this style of performance is very common in cirque du soleil shows, especially the older ones from the early 2000s. it's pretty common to have a ballad or operatic singer featured as a ‘narrator’ to a specific story section of routine. i’m sure this is probably frequent in other places as well, but i’m naming cirque specifically because that’s where i’ve seen it the most, and also because there is an actual circus performer on stage during this. plus there’s a guy in a pierrot costume, who is probably the most famous clown***. (although the costume is technically wrong because pierrot is supposed to be unmasked. (ironic plays loudly in the distance))

*** clown of the technical variety and not clown of the honk honk birthday variety.

#taemin #im not just saying i like ugly hair because i have a neon orange mullet with an undercut #but also i do have a neon orange mullet with an undercut so that should give you a pretty good indication of my opinions #frankly im just for ugly clothes in general because im tired of looking at the same types of faces/outfits/whatever #thats been propagated by instagram and tiktok #also by celebrity culture and beauty standards in general #that being said none of what taemin is doing is actually ugly ugly #he definitely has waaaaay too much pride to deface himself physically that far and i doubt sm would ever allow it #this is just looking at his public persona and how it interacts with his art #his solo career in particular i think you would be hard pressed to find anything of shinee's that covers their faces #the odd concept photos are the only ones i can think of that come close #i think youd be hard pressed to find any group that willingly has covered or distorted faces in their main promotional material #without the purpose of like 'oh who is this going to be~~~' surprise type reveals #ok tags and the post are very long now i will stop #anon please give your mom a kiss for me i think it sweet you talk about kpop with her!!!#taemin meta #kpop analysis #text #anonymous #fun additional fact about me which is very indicative of my current path in life #i used to make my parents tape cbc broadcasts of cirque shows #those tapes and art attack were the only tv i watched with any consistency until i was like #12 #i didnt watch a single disney movie until i was like 14 maybe?#did watching only art attack and cirque irreparably fuck me up as a child? yea probably #but at least i dont have a sentimental relationship to the disney corporation so i won in the long run #kpop questions #group analysis

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im-frickin-trying-okay · 4 years ago

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Random BNHA Headcanons

(This is my first time doing this 😭)

Summary: A bunch of random BNHA headcanons. So, basically the title. The only reason I’m adding a read more is because I want it to be easier to navigate my page, lol

Bakugo is oddly nice when he first wakes up, but he's not exactly a morning person. He's less "I hate the world, why am I awake???" And more like "I'm extremely comfortable and the only thing that can ruin my mood is becoming less comfortable." He likes hovering between awake and asleep, y'know? Which is why if he's sleepy, his guard drops. When leaving the dorms, if he hasn't fully woken up, he goes from "outta my way, shitty-hair," to "mornin' Eijirou," and by the time he's actually aware of what he said, Kiri's already freaking out. If he's in bed all day for any reason other than being sick, he's probably soft for at least a few hours.

Kaminari's the type to wake up at 2 AM with an idea, go to jot it down, and then realize that he wrote a ten chapter book and now he's late for class. He'll probably put it into a google doc or something, so he can continue to add onto it throughout the day. I also feel like he probably will also randomly get a question and then spend hours researching it and any surrounding topics, before rambling to Kiri about "bro, if I went to the beach, I could make a bunch of glass! Probably! Maybe!" And then have to try and convince his friends that he can just make windows if anyone needs them.

Sero had added moves to his skill set, and practiced particular actions, with the sole intention of mimicking Spiderman. When Kirishima questions him on it, he compares Spiderman to Crimson Riot. They have a conversation that's essentially fanboying, both of them saying "we are not bringing All Might into this," and then more fanboying.

Jirou has an extremely eclectic music taste. If you can name a song, she probably knows it. She can memorize full melodies and all the lyrics within two or three listens, because she's just that good. Some people call her the human Shazam, because if you play the first five seconds of a song she likes, she'll immediately know what it is. She's also called out artists if they made a clear rip-off of a much better song. Her music taste is all over the place, which therefore makes it superior. However. This does not stop her from listening to the same six songs on repeat for a week. The six change a lot, though.

Koda has trouble with bugs, especially big ones. They scare him. But he has pretty much no issues with tigers, lions, horses, or even wolves. He loves animals, he really does. If you just showed up at his doorstep and shoved a bear cub in his arms, he wouldn't really question it, because he'd be happy to have a cute animal to play with.

Todoroki believes himself to be the opposite of moody. His definition of moody is switching emotions for no reason. He, personally, doesn't feel any emotion until something happens that day, be it a thought or an event, and his emotions stay fixed like that until something else happens. He could be having a great day, and then suddenly, it's a horrible day, and he can't figure out how people just "get over it." He does, however, find that unless something REALLY bad or REALLY good happens, his brain does a little emotional reset when he goes to sleep. Like, go to sleep feeling down, wake up feeling kinda meh.

Kirishima has considered re-dying his hair. Come on, hot pink is so manly! How could he not consider it? But he eventually resigns himself, because red just is his color now. Also, I feel like once, before dorms, he was really out of it, so he went to class with his hair down, and this was the first time anyone had seen him like that, and everyone was just confused as hell. Especially Bakugo. "Your hair's less shitty today. What the fuck."

Uraraka takes part in stupid bets all the time. Partially for the fun, and partially for the profit. She once floated Bakugo to the ceiling for 26 minutes before she had to put him down, because Kiri said that if she survived, he'd give her a dollar per minute. She ended up having to go to the recovery girl's office, but at least she got her money.

Mina is one of the few people who can understand and keep up with Deku's mumbling. This is not because she specifically tries to, (like Uraraka) or because she's known him long enough, (like Bakugo.) She's just used to gossipping with Hagakure at 4 AM, and therefore can understand high-speed low-volume speech. She's called him out on things before, but only when she's interested. She completely tunes out things about All Might and heroes and whatnot, but if he ever has anything to say about his classmates, specifically about Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugo, (because she, Hagakure, and Denki placed bets,) she hears every word.

Iida secretly loves to break the rules. He acts strict in front of anyone who he respects, or wants respect from, but after he thinks everyone's asleep, he relaxes, doing things that he considers rule-breaking without any remorse. Denki heard someone walking around outside while on one of his late-night internet searches. After finally willing himself to break away from an article about pandas, he popped his head out of the door to find Iida sneaking around. After some silent observation, Denki realized that not only did Iida just get back from breaking curfew, but he casually stole Hot Cheetos from Bakugo's room on the way back to his dorm. He said nothing the next day, at least not directly, but he sorta shoved Sero and Iida in the same room so that they could be bad influences on each other.

Despite it being a major part of her quirk, Hagakure almost never feels invisible. She has a lot of friends to talk to, she can wear cool outfits to stand out, and she is always talking. The only time she's not talking is during stealth training, and when she's using said stealth training to spy on people.

Tsu's little "ribbit" thing is actually just for fun. It feels right to do it, so she does it. Nothing wrong with that. However, pretty much everyone else assumed it was a part of her quirk. It took an insane amount of convincing to get that idea out of their heads. Deku was proud to be one of the few who never actually associated it with her quirk. He could prove it if he wanted to, actually, but that would require showing someone his notebook, which would open a whole other can of worms.

Oh yeah, speaking of Deku's notebook, he has multiple. Six to be exact. One is on his fellow classmates, one is on most pros, one is on the LOV, one is specifically on All Might, one is on his own quirk development, and the last one is a narrative of what's happening in his life, which is why he's constantly thinking as if he's telling a story. He mentally narrates everything that happens in his life, although he sometimes wonders if he's dramatizing things because of that. His internal monologue is constantly running its mouth, and sometimes he ends up speaking over it.

Tokoyami really likes plague doctors. He just does. He wants a plague doctor mask so he can walk around with less judgement, or maybe more, who knows? He just loved the concept. He claims that they're just really cool, which most people agree with, but he's never told any of them that he likes them because he saw a plague doctor mask for the first time at the age of six, and immediately thought bird man.

Sato likes baking, but he can't cook normally to save his life. Well, he can, but he can't. He hasn't burned water, and he knows how to do the very basics, but he can't function without a recipe, not to mention the fact that he's googled how to saute mushrooms three times and still doesn't get it. Baking comes pretty naturally. Exact measurements, precise times and temperatures. Cooking does not. Eyeballing ingredient amounts, guessing if the flame is high enough, trying to figure out how often 'stir occasionally' is. He actually once asked Bakugo if he had advice, to which he responded, "Why the hell are you asking me?!"

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straymackerel · 4 years ago

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shopaholic s/o hcs

akutagawa ryunosuke

• sweet mother of “what the FUCK do i do”

• the man’s coat is an ability ffs how is he gonna know what to do in an actual clothing store

• ps. the 17th century called, they want their ruffled blouse and cravat back

• gin tries to give him advice, like that he should hold stuff for you when you’re shopping, but he’s too embarrassed to actually do so (especially if you’re buying women’s clothes––toxic masculinity check ✨✨)

• akutagawa will either stand in the middle of the aisle or in the very very corner of the stores you go to, and he will NOT move for anyone except you.

• if you bring him to one of those cutesy millennial gift shops, he’ll be tempted to tear the place to shreds… but if it brings you joy, he’ll suck it up just for you.

• blushes and looks away when you come out of the dressing room. “what do you think?” “...tch, it serves its function.”

• akutagawa bristles when he sees a coat like dazai’s on the men’s side of the department store, and he’s quite obvious about it

• follows you like a dog when you finally leave the store

• will ONLY vibe in hot topic 🖤 but even then would not be caught dead holding anything colorful

• the only thing he feels comfortable picking out in front of you are new shades though

• generally admires your outfits in silence. might give a grunt or nod of approval towards your ensemble once in a while, but that’s all you’re getting out of him.

akutagawa gin

• you are exactly what she needs in her life oml

• she’d love to spice up her casual wear but she doesn’t have lots of time to do so between her job and taking care of her brother

• for the love of god you are not allowed to tell him that

• please please pleaseee help her find hair accessories, bracelets, lacy gloves, etc.

• maybe some lipstick? she has no “practical” use for it under a mask so she doesn’t own any yet (she would totally put it on for work though, it’ll be like her little secret)

• when buying new clothes, she comes out of the dressing room quite flustered so you BEST tell her she looks amazing

• gin is v soft and wants to hold your hand while browsing ksdfksksd ❤️❤️

• silently stares at certain mannequins before you finally ask if she wants to check them out

• is always super psyched when you notice (since ryu is always oblivious or just pretending to be...)

• also wants to go to hot topic, specifically for more masks and chokers

• pulls you into the dressing room so no one but you sees her transform with her hair up

• people often give compliments to gin (or the both of you as a couple) in public and she’ll run to hide behind you because AHHHHHHH

• you must nurture and protect this side of her at all costs..!

edgar allan poe

• also part of the hot topic gang™

• entertains you by coming out of the dressing room with the most gothic outfits he could manage to put together

• can we talk about how fabulous this guy dresses??? manga poe popped off with those layers and patterns

• also has impeccable taste in shoes. feast your eyes on those knee-high heeled boots with the tops folded over

• absolutely loves to thrift; won’t even notice musty vintage smells

• unfortunately has to hide karl in his coat so the store staff doesn’t kick him out

• poe will tell you fun facts about the differences between the clothing of japan and america (ex. japanese sizes run small, leggings are considered pants in america but not japan)

• the only obstacle between him and shopping is his shyness. he’ll avoid workers and other customers like the plague

• he’s given up on asking for his size because people never hear him... you may need to “translate” for him once in a while.

• different clothes will make him a different person. he’ll get really into his element if he’s in the right outfit, so he’s down to experiment.

• going out and shopping with you gives him writing inspiration. you might get a poem or two based on such endeavors

• karl isn’t very taken up with the whole ordeal so he might not like you very much

yosano akiko

• a match made in heaven? 😇

• the two of you are constantly asking each other where the other got those pants, that nail polish, those heels, etc.

• yosano gives amazing fashion advice, but never unsolicited. she approves of all of your purchases, believing that there are no hard and fast rules to dressing up. overall just supportive of your shared hobby.

• you will never make more purchases/spend more money than her in any given trip.

• the two of you have to bring a shopping trolley or two or three or four on every trip to the mall (otherwise it’s impossible to bring all the loot home)

• she might still drag an ada member along to help out, and you’ve learned not to question it

• yosano knows all the deals, carries all the coupons, and has all the 5% back credit cards for pretty much everywhere

• fashion magazines littering your shared apartment? probably.

• want her to do your makeup? she’s a doctor, she has steady hands~

• matching outfits? you’ll be the cutest couple.

• the two of you declutter together and always give the excess to charity, shelters, and projects that recycle fabric

• she will never buy new hair accessories to replace her butterfly clip––and it will be a long time before she explains why, if ever.

#bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd poe #akutagawa headcanons #akutagawa gin #akutagawa hcs #akutagawa ryunosuke #yosano hcs #yosano headcanons #edgar allan poe hcs #edgar allen poe hcs #queue

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strafethesesinners · 4 years ago

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Tagged by @blissfulalchemist to post a fic from a year or more ago (? I think that’s how it goes). None of my Far Cry 5 is a year old yet, but I’ll take this opportunity to post this Dishonored oneshot I did back in 2016.

(I’ll tag some people if you want to do it or just want to read @risenlucifer @nightwingshero @chazz-anova @smithandrogers @madsismad @amistrio @chyrstis @consumedkings @faithchel @shallow-gravy)

Spoilers for the Knife of Dunwall Dishonored DLC Warnings for violence and gore Words: 2392 also on AO3

Daud was drowning. The icy, stinking water of the Wrenhaven River grew darker and darker above his head as he sank further into its depths. Daud was a strong swimmer, but something had a hold of his legs, pulling him down. He looked below him and screamed. Hundreds, thousands of corpses clogged the riverbed, clinging to his legs, his arms, and tearing at his clothes with rotting claws. Water rushed into his throat, but he could not close his mouth or his eyes. The more he struggled, the harder the bodies gripped him. They were screaming, moaning, begging for mercy. The water became blood: the blood of every person he had ever killed. It was choking him, yet he could not die. The pleading eyes of the corpses turned black and Daud understood: he was already dead and this was his hell. Still he fought against it, trying in vain to break free and reach the surface, but the ghosts clung on, all of them wailing as one.

“Mommy!”

Daud woke up shaking, his stomach curdling. He sat up and dry heaved over his blankets, but nothing came up. He tore off his sweat soaked shirt and tried to stand. It took him several minutes to regulate his breathing and bring his mind back to reality. It was barely after sunset, judging by the faint light coming through the glass-less windows. Daud lit a cigarette and walked out onto his small balcony on the top floor of the Chamber of Commerce building. He took a deep breath, welcoming the cool air on his sweaty face. The Flooded District smelled of Weepers, dead rats, and whale oil, but it was a familiar smell, and lately, Daud had been latching onto anything even vaguely comforting. He was starting to think his assassins were right, and he was losing it. He could sense them losing confidence in him day by day, and he was grateful none of them were here right now to see him trembling, and sweating, wearing only his trousers: terrified of a dream. But as his mind grew clearer, it seemed odd that no one was around. Daud’s eyes scanned the rooftops carefully. There were no Whalers in sight. A different sort of unease pricked at the back of his mind, as he tossed his cigarette butt away. Instantly, he was alert: listening, watching. He tensed. His scarred hands gripped the iron railing, the Outsider’s Mark glowing faintly on the back of his left hand. Daud was about to turn back into his room when he heard a click behind him, and the cold metal of a pistol pressed against the base of his skull.

He froze. There were only two people in the world that could sneak up on him undetected. Not sure which one he was dreading more, he spoke.

“Billie?”

“Yes.”

The shock of hearing her voice was colder than the hands of the nightmare ghosts. Daud now knew he would have gladly taken the Royal Protector over this; he would have taken anything over this. Daud’s mind was reeling, but he kept himself absolutely still, and his voice calm.

“You’re here to kill me.”

“Yes,” she said again, although it had not been a question. His dream came rushing back to him, and he was suddenly afraid. All these years he had often longed to die, but now a terrible thought occurred to him. What if these dreams were glimpses of what was to come? He never asked the Outsider, but he assumed that his spirit would go to the Void after his death. What if his fate was an eternity drowning in blood in the Void; tormented forever by those he had slain?

I don’t want to die, he thought, almost frantically, I can’t die. His heart was beating hard, but still he remained outwardly calm. Billie kept her pistol at his head, but had not moved to pull the trigger. Daud took her hesitation as a good sign. This would not be an easy thing for her. Daud had not become the most feared man in the Empire through violence alone; he was as cunning as he was ruthless, and he had talked himself out of sticky situations almost as much as he had fought his way out. If he could somehow convince her to spare him…..

“Billie…” he began.

“Don’t try to talk your way out of this one, Daud,” Billie said. Her voice was clear; she wasn’t wearing her mask.

“You know me too well, Lurk,” he said wryly.

“Shut up, I know what I’m doing and you’re not going to change my mind.” The slightest tremor ran up her arm; Daud could feel it through the pistol point.

“Kill me then,” Daud said. She did nothing. Daud took a chance, and turned slowly around to face her. She did not lower the pistol, but neither did she fire. Billie’s eyes were wide, but there was a determined set to her jaw. It was an expression he knew well. She had the same look when they had first met, and she had dared to face him: clearly frightened and yet too stubborn to back down.

“Can at least ask why I’m about to die?” He looked her in the eye.

“You’re weak,” she replied coldly, “and old. This outfit needs a new leader. Someone to get us through this plague, and the chaos you caused by killing the Empress. I don’t want to do this, but it has to be done.”

“Does it now?” Daud snapped. There was an awful pain in his chest. Worse than any physical wound he’d ever had. It was a pain he hadn’t felt since he realized he would never see his mother again. “I always assumed one of you would kill me and take my place,” he said more softly, “ I just never thought…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He knew he was too compromised to get out of this one by talking, Billie was much too close to him and had learned all his tricks over the years; the realization made him sick. He had never felt so vulnerable.

“You’re right, Billie,” he said, “I always thought of myself as clever, but clearly I was a fool for ever trusting you.”

Billie smiled her little apologetic smile; the one she would wear when he scolded her for killing one guard too many, and she knew he didn’t really mean it.

“There’s more to it,” she said, “you deserve to know the truth. The woman you’ve been seeking, Delilah,”

“What about her?”

“She…..came to me, a while back. She offered me so much…...showed me a new way to see; she gave me so much more than you ever did. More than you could ever hope to give.”

Daud could hear the contempt in her speech and it hurt. But now anger was starting to burn in his veins. Of course it all came back to her. Delilah. She had taken his best fighter, his best friend even, certainly the only person he cared about in the world, and turned her against him. A familiar itch clawed it’s way down his arms, making his fingers twitch and ache for a blade. The sun went down behind the buildings, and the Flooded District was doused in the cool grey glow of twilight.

“The power she has, Daud,” Billie was saying, “you can’t even imagine. She’s stronger than you, stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. And all I have to do to be at her side is…..get rid of you.”

She stared at him and her eyes were sad. Daud’s head was pounding.

“I’m sorry, Daud,” Billie said.

“Me too,” he said.

Daud’s hand flashed up and grabbed Billie’s arm, forcing it to the side. Her shot went wide, and he twisted her arm hard. She gave a gasp of pain, and the pistol fell over the railing into the muddy water far below. Daud transversed past her back into his room. He snatched his sword up from beside his bed, there was no time to grab anything else. Billie drew her sword. The metal floor was cold on Daud’s bare feet as they circled each other for a moment; the Outsider’s Mark burned hot. Billie sent a wristbow bolt at his head, and he dodged, then drove forward with a quick thrust at her midriff. She blocked it just in time, and pushed back against his blade. She stomped down on the top of his right foot with her boot, the pain made him falter and she beat his sword aside and punched him in the face. Daud hopped backward, ducking as another bolt flew over his head. He spat out a mouthful of blood with a curse, and then transversed behind her and struck. She turned and parried, and he blocked her retaliatory slash. They battled back and forth across the metal walkway that served as Daud’s bedroom for what seemed like an hour. It was hard to measure time during a fight. But Daud was the better swordsman, and he was closing on Billie when she crouched, opened her mouth, and screamed.

The sound was like a physical force. It lifted Daud up off his feet and sent him tumbling over the railing into his office below. He landed hard on his desk. For a brief moment he lay stunned; the air knocked out of him. Then her heard the sound of Billie blinking down next to him and jumped up as quickly as he could. He wasn’t quite fast enough. Her sword missed its target of his neck, but cut his shoulder to the bone. The pain of it spurred his desperation, and he attacked with everything he had left. Billie was never taken off guard, but his fury did seem to rattle her some. He managed to get in a few cuts of his own in as her first few blocks came too slow. But against her padded leather whaler suit, the damage was nowhere near as bad as when she hit him. Soon he was bleeding heavily from wounds to his forearms and chest, in addition to his shoulder,and his strength was starting to fade. He could barely lift his sword arm high enough to parry her strikes. He curled his Marked hand into a fist and sent a call out through the Void, but no assassins appeared. Billie must’ve told them ahead of time what she planned, and killed anyone who objected. Daud wondered if Thomas was dead, or if he had also turned against him. He retreated across the room. He tried one of the doors, thinking of escape, but they were barred from the other side.

Of course he thought grimly. He spied the open window behind his desk, and blinked over to it, using the last of his energy. He turned to locate her before he jumped. Billie was standing in the middle of the office. She raised her hand, and sent a shower of several shadowy darts flying at him. He blocked some with his sword, and covered his face with his other arm. But there were too many. One went through his thigh, three into his unprotected guts, and one into his chest. It had missed his heart he know, or he would already be dead, but he could tell it had punctured his lung. He fell to one knee, struggling to breathe. Billie came towards him, but stopped at his desk, just out of reach. Daud still gripped his sword tightly. She approached him slowly. He attempted one last weak slash, but she grabbed his wrist and wrenched the sword from his hand. Gently, she set it down on his desk.

“It’s over, Daud,” she said quietly.

“Looks like it, huh? I taught you too well,” he laughed, and blood came bubbling up his throat. He choked and coughed, the blood spattering down his bare chest and onto the wooden floorboards. He slumped back against his bookshelf. Billie stood watching him. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were wet. Daud had never once seen her cry. And yet, staring into her eyes, Daud knew she was still going to go through with it. He wasn’t ready to face the Void, but, now that it seemed inevitable, he wasn’t so afraid as before. There was no point. The best he could hope for was that he was wrong, and that there was nothing after death. And the worst…..Daud wondered if it was possible to fight ghosts in hell. He wanted to laugh again, but it hurt too much. Blood leaked steadily from the holes in his gut.

“It was always going to end this way, Daud,” she said, “You and me. It’s our nature. But you’re not as weak as I thought.”

“Thanks,” Daud coughed again. The pain was agonizing. “Could you find it in you to end it quickly?” he gasped out. Billie continued to stare at him, unmoving. Daud didn’t know how long it was going to take to die, maybe up to an hour depending on how bad the wound in his chest was, maybe even longer. But maybe that was all part of it. He never thought Billie hated him so much. He tried to reach up to her and she flinched back, still wary.

“I’m not going to fight you anymore, Billie, I just need you to do it now. If you ever had any….feeling for me at all, don’t let me die like this, make it a clean death.” She still did nothing, looking at him almost in disbelief now, as if she didn’t quite trust what she was seeing. “Billie, please,” Daud said, “don’t make me beg.”

Without a word, Billie took his sword from the desk and knelt down so she was level with him. She reached out and cupped his face in her gloved hand, and then drove his sword into his heart with all her strength. He convulsed once as his life bled away.

“Sorry, Daud,” Billie whispered.

Her whisper went on and on and turned into the haunting hiss of runesong, which became the mournful cry of whales. The pale blue light of the Void crept over his sight, obliterating everything else, and the Knife of Dunwall was dead.

#Dishonored #Daud #Billie Lurk #the knife of dunwall #dishonored fic #ok so I read this again and #y'all it's pretty damn good #if I do say so myself #Sorry about tumblr making it all single space i know it makes it hard to read #my writing #fanfic tag game #posting in the middle of the night but I'll reblog later

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a-wayne-at-heart-too · 5 years ago

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The Robins as...

DICK:

Glam rock / Heartland rock ; goes by the pseudonym “Azul”; the Artist Formerly Known as Nightsing

He’s an incredible all-around performer, so it should come as no surprise that he’s a natural frontman (or solo act).

He’s constantly reinventing his look (short, long, mullet - you name it, he’s probably sported the hairstyle). And Discowing’s got nothing on the outfits he wears onstage.

People love booking or working with him because he’s very professional (but does have a volatile temper from time to time).

The only thing that he requests for in his hotel room or trailer? A poster of The Flying Graysons. Oh, and cereal. Lots of it.

He actually uses the Cirque-du-Soleil-ish set design, blowing minds all over the world.

He likes calling audience members onto the stage, and never forgets to introduce his bandmates and give credit to those who made the concert possible.

His bodyguards don’t get paid enough for the number (and level of aggression) of fans who throw themselves at him.

He actually responds to fan mail, loves visiting sick fans in the hospitals, and gives warm hugs during meet-and-greets.

A substantial part of the proceeds from all his concerts go to the Martha Wayne Foundation, which supports many schools and orphanages.

His “entourage”? His long-term girlfriend, Kory Anders ( “Azul! Over here! Gotham Gazette! Why haven’t you proposed yet?”), and his childhood best friend, Wally West.

For all his showmanship, he’s notoriously private about his personal life. And, honestly? The spotlight does make him tired.

JASON:

Folk rock / Grunge rock ; goes by the pseudonym “Rason Rodd”

He sings and plays rhythm guitar, while Roy Harper’s on either bass or drums and Lady Artemis slays on lead guitar. Together they’re known as The Outlaws, managed by Mr. Am Not Bizarro.

He sounds so much like Eddie Vedder that it’s eerie. Eerily beautiful.

His debut solo album “I Ain’t No Joker” went straight to #1 on the world charts.

He’s found that music can be an effective political tool, so expect to find him lending his talents, free of charge, to various charities and advocacies. (On that note, he’s already done jail time for his blatantly subversive lyrics.)

He’s on the road so much that he practically lives on the tour bus (that’s always stocked with beer and cigarettes). At this point, he’s... trying not to mind. He’s been away from what he used to consider “home” for so long that he’s not sure where to go.

With The Outlaws and their connections, he holds free music workshops and provides informal foster care for Gotham’s street children, who often don’t have proper adult supervision.

During his downtime, he visits prisons in Gotham City to perform for the inmates, hoping to encourage them. Then he’ll anonymously send their low-income families some groceries every now and then.

It’s either you’ll barely recognize him on the streets because he’s so low-key or know it’s him because he’s wearing something outrageous, like a tinted gas mask or a plague doctor getup, on a grocery run.

TIM:

Rap rock / Electronic rock ; goes simply by his last name, “Drake” (not to be confused with other famous artist Drake or Gotham vigilante Drake or male fowl -- "I'm not any of them, alright!")

He’s moved on from his punk rock roots and has been experimenting with fusion subgenres.

Once in a while, he’ll do reunion performances with former bandmates Bart Allen and Cassandra Sandsmark.

Nowadays, he frequently collaborates with other artists with different musical backgrounds, such as rapper D.u.k.e. T and country crooner Conner “Kon” Kent.

He’s notoriously hardworking (and his PA’s got some toned legs from all those coffee runs).

His albums are a hit among the younger demographic, but his famous adoptive father says that he “is extremely proud of my son, but I... I don’t really understand his music.” (Hmm. Makes you wonder if billionaire Bruce Wayne’s got a closet full of Drake’s “Sedimentary / Metamorphic / Igneous - The Anthology”.)

He’s developed his own state-of-the-art software for composing music and even performs live as a hologram (through the help of information technology magnate Barbara Gordon’s company, Oracle).

He’s made the said software, which makes it possible to produce professional-quality music using little to no equipment other than a mobile phone, free and accessible so that aspiring musicians who can’t afford to work in studios can pursue their dreams.

He enjoys discovering new talent, especially among young people who haven’t had as many opportunities as he’s had, and offers to manage them for free.

His on-again-off-again relationship with pop star Stephy Brown has made him a tabloid staple.

When asked by a reporter what he likes to do for fun, he answered, “Sleep” while slowly sinking into the couch.

DAMIAN:

Heavy metal meets orchestra music (think Metallica’s “S&M”concert) ; goes by the pseudonym “Habibi”

He’s a musical prodigy who can play practically any instrument from percussion to wind, but the need for control led him to being a conductor.

Like Timothy, he likes to experiment. His latest project, which he’s very secretive to the media about, has to do with oriental influences. He’s called upon the help of his sister, a musical prodigy like him, Cassandra Cain.

He’s notoriously a perfectionist, which makes it challenging to work with him. (But no one argues that he’s a musical genius, so they put up with it.)

He owns the Wayne Conservatory of Music, which offers full educational scholarships and training programs to the poor youth in Gotham who are musically gifted.

He once told a news reporter that his greatest dream is to conduct the ultimate performance -- his obra maestra -- starring Azul, Rason Rodd, and Drake.

When he’s not busy in the studio or mentoring budding musicians, he’s just in his mahal (palace), hanging out with his best friend Jon Kent, practicing martial arts, or enjoying the company of his pets.

And in the quiet moments of their famous lives, they dial one number that always brings them back down to earth...

Alfred: *picks up* Hello? I’ve missed you, too, Master -- What’s the matter? Why are you crying? Oh, bullocks, don’t listen to what they’re saying... In which part of the world are you right no-- Ah, never mind. I’ll just follow the tracker Master Bruce has put on you. I’ll see you in a bit.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

For you, @xellexavierxau.

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goodluckdetective · 5 years ago

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TMA 164: Horror From History

Hello everyone!

Today’s TMA was super interesting to me in particular, as the study of historical outbreaks and pandemics is a special interest of mine (that I plan to go to grad school for). Listening to this episode, I was struck about the amount of historical references in this episode and felt a need to highlight the clear hard work and research the team put in for those interested. Those references are below the cut.

Below the cut are spoilers as well as discussion of all the trigger warnings in said episode along with discussions of historical imperialism and anti-semitism. I’m not going to get too gory or descriptive but just a heads up!

If you notice any errors with my facts or want to add something I missed , please let me know so I can correct them:

Onward we go!

The “sickness” symptoms: don’t worry, the illness described is not a real disease but some symptoms listed did allude to diseases that are responsible for outbreaks. Pox-marked is likely a reference to smallpox (more on that later), and they various symptoms mentioned are pretty much the “greatest hits” of outbreaks, add in some fungus and blended together. Gross.

The burning of “outsiders” at the stake (anti-semitism tw): Sadly, the burning of Ms. Kim is rooted in history. During the plague years, some areas and towns burned Jewish people at the stake, whom they blamed for the illness (a common assertion being that they poisoned the wells). Often Jewish residents were used as scapegoats and labeled as “outsiders” due to anti-Semitic beliefs. It’s a real atrocity about the plague that isn’t discussed enough.

Mold, Illness and Mass Hysteria: I don’t know if this was on purpose, but I don’t think so just given the ties. A theory of the cause of the Salem Witch trials is that the girls got sick and hallucinated due to infected grain. The grain was theorized to be contaminated with rye ergot, a fungus, which in fact is also used to make LSD for its hallucinogenic properties. Salem, of course, turned in upon itself, blaming their own neighbors as witches and burning them at the stake. Interesting considering the statement is also about mold that causes people to turn on one another.

UK/European Imperialism and Disease: European imperialism was responsible for one of the worst disease outbreaks in the Americas: smallpox. Smallpox was endemic to Europe but to the Native Nations of the Americas, smallpox was a new pathogen which their immune systems had no experience to. Smallpox is very deadly even to populations with historical exposure (1/3 is an estimate) but to these populations with no exposure, it caused fatality rates up to 90%. It’s an atrocity that many ignore in American History books, especially the fact that some of these infections were purposeful bio warfare against Native civilizations. The fact the villagers are blaming outsiders for disease while wearing masks with the colors of the Union Jack seems to allude to this in some capacity.

The part with skin (tw self harm): Western Medicine was rough for a long time, and often people had no idea what caused disease let alone how to treat it. Disease was sometimes chalked up to God’s punishment and during the plague years, a group of religious monks began whipping themselves from town to town as a sign of penance. Bloodletting was also a “cure” that falls in a similar vein (pun not intended, I honestly couldn’t think of a better word and I am sorry.)

Outfits: this one is pretty obvious but the all black covered from head to toe also is reminiscent of the plague.

Painting Doors with a red cross: This was also a common plague practice to identify those who had died or were currently suffering from plague. In fact, this can be considered an early form of disease tracing.

Xenophobia and Disease: xenophobia and disease sadly go hand and hand but the best classical example is the STD syphilis which countries often nicknamed based on countries they were at war with. People who were at war with the French called it “The French Disease,” people who were at war with Italy called it “The Italian Disease” and so on and so forth. Diseases being blamed upon a people or a place is not uncommon, and WHO guidelines ban naming new diseases after places for this very reason. “Typhoid Mary” who was also mentioned in this episode, while actually a carrier of Typhoid, had her Irish ancestry used to label her as “unclean.” There were “health checks” of immigrants at Ellis Island and people would be turned away if inspectors considered them “diseased.”

#tma spoilers #the magnus archives spoilers #disease cw #tma #tma 164 #iz rambles

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morguenecrosis · 4 years ago

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Some Asks hehe🤺

1. If you were a bowling ball what would you look like? Describe it in detail and provide a picture if you can find one.

2. Leopard print, floral print, or camo?

3. Gel pen, felt tip pen, or ballpoint pen? Choose wisely...

4. Flamingos? Frogs? Fog? Fungi? Flies? Fiends? Friends? Flora? Fauna? Flames?

5. Are you plagued by the random craving for french fries at midnight?

6. Do you believe in ghosts? Have you had any paranormal experiences? Tell me.

7. Shoe size?

8. If you have pinterest, respond with the first image that loads when you open pinterest.

9. How often do you do laundry?

10. You've been invited to a masquerade party, describe your mask and outfit, provide pictures if you can find any.

11. How sharp are your canine teeth on a scale from one to ten? For real...

12. Make a top 10 list of people to guillotine. For legal reasons this is a joke.

13. If you were a teacher what class would you teach?

14. Make a short playlist (abt 5 songs) that captures your personality.

15. Tell me the code, DAMNIT! 🔫

16. Favourite Jack Stauber song?

17. Provide a picture of your rock... I know you have one 👁️👁️

18. Write a haiku. Do it.

19. Would you wear a full suit of armour to prom? And go alone?

20. Release your inner emo and tell me your favourite MCR song.

21. You ever dance with the devil the pale moon light?

22. How gay are you on a scale from James Dean to Mullets?

23. If you got a buzz cut, what colour would you dye your hair?

24. Long nails, average length, or bitten past the skin?

25. Have you hydrated today? Be honest.

26. ACAB?

27. Have you ever smoked? I mean cigarettes/vapes btw (this question may be triggering or intrusive to some and you don't have to answer it)

28. Could you afford things at the scholastic book fair as a kid?

29. Do you enjoy the crunch of a decaying leaf under your foot?

30. When's the last time you climbed a tree? If you ever have that is...

31. Your standing in the parking lot of a convenience store when...

32. How many fights have you witnessed in person in you life so far? How many fights have your gotten in yourself so far?

33. Do your prefer to run in shoes, socks, or bare foot?

34. Are you an Old Spice or a Axe kind of bastard?

35. Howdy!

36 have you watched "Possibly in Michigan"? If not why?

37. Should we just go back to wearing cloths that are basically just sheets with hole cut in them that are draped differently? The answer should be yes

38. Heaven, hell, nirvana, purgatory, the void, or some other option?

39. Little feet... W-wittle feet... WITTLE FEET!!!! *cries uncontrollably*

40. *Slurp*

#ask game #shitpost #asks welcome #anons welcome

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 5 years ago

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The “Rescue”

Slade Wilson x reader

Summary: Arkham Knight era, the boy needs a hand after he gets caught

Word Count: 1830

If someone had asked that morning how he thought this whole “attack Gotham on Halloween” thing was going to go, Slade probably would have said literally anything other than the way it actually had gone. Months of careful planning somehow ended with him sitting in a cell at the police station with every crazed idiot that plagued the cesspool they called a city. The man poorly singing opera in the middle of said cell especially grated on his already frayed nerves.

It hadn’t helped that all of those irritating criminals had gotten especially antsy about ten minutes prior when damn near every cop in the precinct rushed out with whispers of something happening at Wayne Manor on their lips. Slade could only hope the Knight made it out okay. But it didn’t matter, not much he could do to help the kid until after he got himself out of here. An annoying task in and of itself considering that his gear had been confiscated upon arrival; he was lucky no one had had the balls to try and take his mask. So he chose to bide his time, head leaned back against the bars as he sat on the ground and tried to ignore the other prisoners around him.

The phrase ‘Time is an illusion’ came to mind while Slade sat waiting for something to happen, something that would give him the chance to escape. Cops weren’t back yet, so it hadn’t been too long. Still, he was getting antsy, eager to leave the company of Gotham’s Craziest. Though, he wasn’t so eager that he was happy when the power suddenly cut out. Predictably, there was a sudden hush among the prisoners before the chatter returned twofold.

This can’t be good.

“You look like shit, Wilson.”

His eyes slid closed and he sighed, automatically recognizing that voice. He’d better after all the times and contexts in which he’d heard it.

“He’s wearing a mask!” Cobblepot argued. “How the hell can she know that?”

“Shut up!” Dent snarled. “You fucking idiot. Do you not recognize her mask? She’s almost as bad as him!”

Ignoring them, Slade turned to look at her. Sure enough, her mask (one much like the Knight’s) was blocking whatever facial expression she had, but her body language spoke volumes about her attitude. The outfit she was wearing fit poorly; something she’d stolen from a militia member to blend in most likely. “Why are you here?”

You crossed your arms, weight falling to one hip. There was a little time to spare before the skeleton police crew came to check on this particular group of criminals. “A mutual friend of ours asked me to make sure you made it out of town.”

“I don’t need your help, Y/N.”

“Like it or not, you’ve got it. The Bat’s dead; his manor blew sky high with him in it.”

That sent a wave of murmurs through everyone that was openly listening to the two of them argue.

The crowd was loud enough to cover the quiet, “Allegedly,” that was for Slade’s ears only. “So, do you want out of here or not?”

“Suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” he grumbled, rising to his feet slowly.

“Who are you callin’ a horse, Wilson?” you challenged even as you pried the door open.

None of his cellmates were stupid enough to challenge Deathstroke as he exited the cell and closed the door behind him. “The woman that felt the need to break her ex-husband out of jail without even getting paid for it, Ms. Wilson.” It was always amusing to him, the fact that you never bothered to change your name back to what it was before. Well, it amused him about as much as it hurt him.

“Well, everybody always says I have shit judgement, so I figured I’d say ‘fuck it’ and lean into it this time.”

It was only once both of them were in one of the militia’s armored transports that Slade started to relax the slightest bit, and even then it was in no small part due to the fact that you’d handed him a duffel full of his gear. Apparently you’d made a pit-stop by the evidence lockup before grabbing him.

“So the Knight sent you?” he asked as she drove, the vehicle headed out of the city. He wasn’t leaving your presence anytime soon as far as he could tell, so he might as well make nice in the meantime.

You nodded, eyes remaining carefully trained on the road. Looking at him . . . well, it was never a good idea for you. “He messaged me as soon as things went sideways with the Bat. Took me a few hours to get here.”

“Little shit had no faith that I’d get the job done?”

A smirk tugged at your lips. “You don’t exactly have a winning track record going against Batman alone, and your thugs--trained or not--stood no chance. Don’t get mad at him though; he was worried about you.”

“And you’d do anything for him.”

You nodded, and out of the corner of your eye you saw him echo the gesture. It was against your better judgement, but you couldn’t stop the admission from sliding from your lips as easily as curses normally did. “And for you.”

Every muscle in Slade’s body froze at that; for once he had no idea what to say. “Y/N. . .”

You just sighed.

There was a reason for your relationship in the first place, after all, as well as your divorce. The love you two had was a dangerous one; there were no lengths one of you wouldn’t go to if it meant saving the other. The only people that could claim something similar from Slade were his children, and that was only after you helped them reconcile. And the love you shared had never faded. In fact, the problem was the exact opposite. You two had hated to be apart, hated that your separate contracts often made you go weeks without seeing the other, and more importantly each of your enemies started going after the other in an endless search for weaknesses. For Slade it was no problem. For you . . . Let’s just say it was a shame that you didn’t have his enhancements.

So the two of you staged a massive fight and ended it between you. That was ten years ago, and not a day went by that you didn’t wish things were different.

When you glanced over, you saw that he’d removed his mask, and yeah looking at him was never a great idea for you. Confirmed. It only reminded you how much you loved him. And the fact that he was still handsome even years after all the years since he was the young brunet mercenary you met so long ago.

Slade found himself in a similar situation over in the passenger seat. As much as his first wife taught him he was bad at the whole feelings thing, you taught him that he could be more than that. His cold heart gave a solid thud at the sight of you removing your own mask with the smooth familiarity of someone who’d done it a thousand times and carelessly tossing the marvel of mechanical headwear into the back seat. You’d gained some wrinkles over the years you’d spent away from him as well as some grey hairs, but you were still stunning. Maybe it was a good thing you never took it off around him while the two of you were working with the militia down in Venezuela . . .

“I thought we agreed . . .” he muttered, normal confidence put aside for honesty just like it always was when talking to you.

“Do you remember what it was like back then?”

“When?”

“That trip when we stayed in that backwater beach house in South America.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Second honeymoon. Rose wanted to kill us for getting her to dogsit.”

You nodded, fingers flexing on the steering wheel as you fought the urge to reach over and touch him. “She agreed, and I paid her.”

“It was a wolfhound you trained to help you on jobs; it was a beast.”

“Rover was a good boy, and you loved him.”

“You knew she couldn’t say no to you.”

“Okay, that I can’t argue.”

There was a moment of amused silence where Slade simply enjoyed your company for a moment. But all good things in his life had to end, so, “Why do you bring it up?”

You hesitated, face nervous, a rare thing when you were talking to him even after the divorce. “I miss it.” Even someone as emotionally stunted as Slade Wilson could hear the unsaid, “I miss you,” in your tone.

“Did something happen?”

You shook your head. “Been thinking about it for a while, actually. Ever since we started helping the Knight.”

It really had been a while, then, since Jason Todd hired both of you over a year ago to help gather and train his army. You buying and programming the drones and equipment as well as building the Knight’s mask in a style similar to your own, Slade training the people how to actually fight. Crossing paths had been both inevitable and painful.

“What you’re thinking . . . Y/N, it isn’t a good idea.”

Abruptly, you slammed on the brakes. Slade absolutely would have hit the windshield if his reflexes had been any slower and he hadn’t been able to brace himself in time. Your eyes were practically blazing when you turned to glare at him. “Slade Wilson, if you can look me in the eye right now and convince me that you don’t want the same thing, I’ll drop it and you’ll never see me again.”

The thing was he couldn’t do that. You knew how to hit him where it mattered, that was sure. Mentioning his kids (both of which still loved and looked up to you), that trip . . . Yeah . . . He wanted you around just as much as you wanted him around. God only knows why she wants me.

He sighed heavily. “If we do this, we’ll have to be partners. None of that working separately shit that got us in trouble before.”

“Lucky for us, we already know how each other works.”

Slade rolled his eyes, relaxing into his seat once more as you started driving again. “Why do I feel like the kid set this up?”

“Because he’s a manipulative little shit just like the rest of our kids except he has the Bat’s subtlety?” you offered ‘helpfully.’

Meaning that he has none? Slade chose to focus on that instead of the way a little thrum of pleasure passed through him at the way you talked about his children like they were your own; though, he supposed you were right to address Jason as one of them. Despite himself, he’d grown pretty damn fond of the little bird. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

#slade wilson x reader #slade wilson imagine #deathstroke imagine #deathstroke x reader #batman: arkham knight imagine #reader insert #slade x reader #slade imagine

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suncatchr · 4 years ago

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some updated designs!! lots to say about these!!

Emilia and Mateo’s “Imaginary” Designs

I have a plot update for them ;w; I thought, since their whole motif is arts and performance, that it would be cute to write in a playground roleplay element to their story! Besically as kids, they make up a fantasy world that they play in together whenever they get a free second! In off-time, Mateo writes stories and makes art of their characters, and Emilia starts learning to play music so that she can compose theme songs for them. Emilia’s character is a fire witch who’s able to comfortably use her powers bc they live in a more magical world. Mateo’s character is a healer who follows Emilia on her quests to save the places she defends. I thought it would be a nice place to kick off their obsessions with creativity, and also that it would be kinda fun to do a plot within a plot and kinda try to make up a story that two kids would.

These outfts are the designs they thought up in their game. Mateo later drew up the designs, this being most obvious from the rose on Emilia’s belt. Her gloves keep her magic in when she doesn’t need it, and the cloak is fireproof. Mateo’s outfit is based on a plague doctor’s, but for ease, the mask is just a piece of thick fabric that can be lifted up over his nose when he needs it. The rest of his body is covered to prevent him from contracting infections from fluids.

Holly and Masei

Nothing too new about these designs, their original designs were just way too simplistic bc i didn’t have much of an idea. Holly is a warrior, so his outfit is very lacking in layers and fabric. On the other hand, Masei is a prince, so his clothes are dumb layered and the little translucent piece is supposed to drive home just how extravagant he is.

Khauai, Haven, and Hakeem

I wanted their outfits to be more like their animal motifs! Cevon didn’t get a redesign because his current outfit is civilian clothes which. suits the fact that he gets his power taken away. Khauai is an owl, so his cloak is meant to reflect his wings and the puffy pants + slim boots mimic the legs of an owl. Haven is a selkie, so I gave him his seal coat to wear over his human form. I left the sweater, though, since it kinda melds both worlds for him as opposed to him only wearing his seal coat and Yearning for the Sea. Hakeem’s outfit is supposed to be lionlike, so I gave him the furry collar to be the mane and the furry boots to be his paws. It’s also a little more form-fitting bc he steals Cevon’s powers and as such becomes an incubus. I think he’d embrace that fully.

The Major Arcana

These characters have 3 things each that are part of their designs: an album, a Tarot card, and their name. I decided that the Tarot card would be more involved witht heir demeanour and how they present themselves, so the outfits are based on their album and their name.

Crow, obviously, is named for a crow. His clothing is layered to represent the feathers of a bird’s wing, and his cloak is ruffled to be shaped like the wings themselves. His album is After Hours. His heavy layers also represent him often blocking people out because he feels like he’ll just let them all down (a la Save Your Tears). At the same time, his outer cloak is open, because what he really wants is to be better, but it’s hard to make that go to the inner layers of himself (a la Faith). His clothes are all black.

Harley’s name means “meadow of hares.” His spikey hair is meant to represent windswept grass, while his inner vest is meant to be a little white bunny tumby and his boots are white at the toes to represent paws. His album is Beauty Behind the Madness. BBTM is a little sluttier than AH, so I had to kinda work around that, since Major Arcana generally wear old-fashioned clothing and lots of layers. Underneath his jacket, Harley’s arms are bare and his jeans are high-waisted so that when he’s free to do so, he can shift into hotboy mode. BBTM’s narration is also more smug and more detached, so I felt like that it made sense to give Harley a more modern outfit than everyone else, because he couldn’t care less about the customs of Major Arcana dress or how anyone feels about it. His clothes are brown and white.

Nakoa’s name means “warrior.” I gave him the harnesses on his back and leg to look like he’d be carrying weapons around, even though he never would. His album is Transmissions. The ablum gives off a very aching, yearning vibe, with the narrator sounding alone throughout the whole thing. His mission seems to be to find and protect someone else, while sticking staunchly to one’s ideals and values throughout the quest. Nakoa dresses like Major Arcana should, with his clothes being the most traditional of anyone’s. The lock necklace represents his loyalty to the Major Arcana (as in, he’s locked in) and the heart necklace (while in canon it represents his card: The Lovers), represents the person that the album’s narrator is talking about. I wanted to make him look very “tied up” in his clothes, so everything runs across him. This represents the loneliness at the album’s core; Nakoa is tied up in himself and effectively has no one but the cause to be loyal to. His clothes are purple and blue.

Sunday’s outfit is supposed to contrast Nakoa’s heavily. They don’t wear all of the ties and layers he does. Their design is meant to be open and welcoming, because their album is Dreamland. The narrator of Dreamland describes a troubled past in an expressive and upbeat way, and I thought I’d reflect that in the fact that Sunday is the eldest and effectively the most responsible for the whole group, yet they remain open and their layers stripped despite all that. Their name obviously reflects the sun, so the main colours of their outfit along w the sun at their collar represent the sunrise. Their outfit is iridescent (another ref to Dreamland’s aes), with bases of pale pink and yellow.

Arwen’s name means “royal maiden.” Her outfit is based on the most practical layer of mediaeval royal clothing, with her hood able to pull up to look like a victorian maiden’s bonnet. Her album is Hozier, but I’m going to be hinest and say most of her outfit was designed before this, so I couldn’t find a place to mix in the album..? So the colours of her clothing are the album cover’s colours: orange, blue, and brown.

Elio means sun. I have enough characters designed after the sun, so I went entirely album-based with him. His album is DIVISIONS, a rebellious, anticapitalist love letter to no one. The album is about adventure, love, and the future, so I wanted to give Elio a v futuristic and punky outfit. His outfit is my favourite out of all of them, but I don’t actually have much to say about it? I think it looks exactly how I envisioned, like Elio’s a punk from the future. His clothes are black, white, and silver.

Dawn’s name meaning is obvious, and again w the sun. I went all-album with him too. His album is Meteora, an album that’s essentially about hating yourself, your past, and everyone around you. I wanted to go more emo with Dawn’s design bc of that, but emo style actually doesn’t... appeal to me, plus it’s not very Major Arcana. I gave him some gay little boots to be his choice piece of emo clothing, and then emo’d up a regular outfit instead. His clothes are layered, again representing him building up walls. He has lots of elements that are tied around him, this time to look like he’s sealed himself in, hence them all being horizontal. He burned the edges of his cloak himself and also sliced into his pants so that he looked imperfect and everyone around him would know that he’s imperfect. His clothes are, in contrast, pink, yellow, and blue.

Dovey’s name obviously means dove. Her cloak, like Crow’s is ruffled at the edge to represent bird wings. Doves are much fluffier than crows, though, so in her outfit, feathers are represented by the ruffles in her dress. Now, uh, her album is Wasteland, Baby! and the outfit very much misses the vibe. Dovey is another character whose outfit I had planned before hand, and it wasn’t desidned with music in mind. The one song I did think of while designing her was As It Was, which reminds me of Red Riding Hood bc of the way it opens?? I feel like even though I can’t pinpoint any one vibe that matches her look, I can see her as the narrator slash star of all the songs in this outfit. So IDK, it vibes w me, fjkdshdsfd. Her outfit is grey and brown, like a mourning dove.

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kylosupremeimagines · 4 years ago

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Kylo Ren X Reader: Only Everyone Can Judge Me {Chapter 11}

Summary: As you learn to adjust to your new life in the First Order, Kylo fits you with the proper gear of a Knight of Ren. Alone with him, you now have another opportunity to talk about serious things that must be addressed.

Warnings: Hints of abuse/trauma

Word Count: 1619

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As Kylo stood behind you, he glanced up and down your form in the mirror. His honey brown eyes returned up to observe your facial expression out of curiosity, searching for any ounce of emotion to reveal to him your feelings without digging into your mind for answers. “How does it feel? The fit?” He inquired. As expected, you were to be outfitted just as your fellow Knights of Ren were to assert your position in the First Order. A helmet had yet to be constructed for you, but to sport the same black and grey colors as them was necessary.

“It… it’s different from what I’m used to but I suppose that I have to get used to it,” you came to admit. You pulled at the sleeve of your shirt, the article of clothing rather form fitting yet still breathable. In the Resistance, you often were allowed to wear what suited you best, so long as it allowed for you to jump into battle if the time called for it.

For years you were relied upon to protect the less fortunate and skilled, as well as to take on the most grueling of missions that would cost the First Order greatly. There was no telling exactly how long you conformed to their desires, acting much like a pawn for them to control. Rarely were you able to speak your mind, with no strategic input you had to offer taken into consideration. Instead, they would often tell you where to be and what to do according to what they wanted.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the changes after a while,” Kylo tried to assure you, massaging your right shoulder soothingly. You hummed in acknowledgement, almost losing yourself to your thoughts. “it took me a bit but I know with me here, there’s no reason why you can’t either. I’m here for you through this change, I promise.”

“That means that Galaxy to me… Kylo,” you breathed out. Still, that name barely rolled off of your tongue as you were left to accept his new name. Although parts of you still recognized him as Ben, he wasn’t the same person from years ago. He changed.

The light in him had been dissipating over the years, barely could you sense the same warmth. However, there was still a spark of that flame burning so brightly as it had when he was a Padawan. It was all the more reason to care for him, and be there for Kylo no matter what hardships you had to work through.

“The only thing that’s left is for you to get your helmet. We have a welder who takes care of our armor needs, one of the next few days he should be finished with it. None of us have an idea what it will be like, though it will have all the necessary alterations, such as filtration for toxins and yes, a cooling system. We get the best that the First Order has to offer,” Kylo told you.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he hummed in confirmation. “he sees mask construction as an art, so he will be putting a lot of work into it. If he could make one for Zira - a Togruta - then there is no reason he can’t perfect one for you,” he added, leaving you to wonder how it would compare to that of other Knights of Ren. Stars, when you first met Volgoth, Dralin, and even Zira, they had not been sporting their masks, thus you had nothing to compare to.

“That… I suppose that I’ll have to look forward to that.”

“I’ll be here for you, for anything else that you need, too,” he explained to you.

“Well, there are a few things I still need to know,” you mentioned under your breath.

“What is it?” Kylo asked, raising a brow of curiosity. As you pulled from his touch, you sighed to yourself and rubbed your hands together. A million thoughts raced through your mind, almost impossible for you to piece together what you wanted to inquire. “you’ve told me about my training, but what else should I expect? I know nothing about what else is going to be expected of me.”

“You cannot forget that you’re a Knight of Ren, just like the rest of us. I am the highest ranked, and you are only starting out. The others will have to get used to having you around, but from what I’ve heard, most of them haven’t questioned the sudden change. However,, first and foremost, you’re the newest apprentice to the Supreme Leader. Even above my own orders, what he commands is to come first and remain your priority,” Kylo explained to you, the corners of his plush lips curling into a faint frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that-” he began but cut himself short, biting his bottom lip in thought for a few moments. He clenched his fists, squeezing them into tight balls. “there are things that I’m terrified he’ll have you do that will put you in danger. I won’t always be there for you… to protect you,” he finished.

Kylo’s silence left a chill in the air, a silence that would only arise as he was plagued with overwhelming thoughts. Your (Y/C) orbs remained focused on him as his gaze fell to the floor, eyes darting from one tile to another. “Do you ever wish that you chose a different path and didn’t go this way?” you had to ask in a small breath, sensing the conflict within him.

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours, tears welling up. “Some things have made me regret it, yes,” he reluctantly confessed. “when I found out that you were coming, I was terrified and thought of ways to keep you away, but now that you’re under Snoke’s control, there’s nothing that I can do other than to protect you,” he choked.

“Oh, Kylo…” you whispered softly, snaking your arms around him. Your head rested on his back gently, taking in his Force aura. “there’s nothing to worry about, I can take care of myself,” you tried to assure him. Of course, there were a plethora of things that happened to him that you were unaware of, things he was far too frightened and ashamed to confess.

“You don’t get it,” he tried to tell you.

“Kylo, for now, I want you to breathe for me,” you soothed. Pulling away for a moment, you twirled Kylo around to glance up at his freckled features. Your hand trailed up his arm to cup his cheek. “do you remember back at the temple when we would always promise each other that we would only be happy with each other?” you inquired.

“Yes…”

“Think about that now, then,” you began. “we will find a way to get you away from this. We can be happy, maybe do things on our own with no concern for the First Order. Stars, maybe you could even open up that restaurant on Coruscant that you would always joke about. I know part of you was serious about that. If your cooking is as good as it was back then, I’m sure that everyone would die for your food.”

At the mention of his long lost dream, Kylo couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle, a smile forming to reveal his teeth. “(Y/N), stop it,” he tried.

“No, you know that you’d like that,” you kept on going. As a Padawan, distracting him with the most obscure topics seemed to get his mind off what was bothering him. “a diner, wasn’t it? A place for families to enjoy,” you mentioned. To him, although he did not have the best childhood growing up, he could have given other families a night to remember while eating at the restaurant he pictured.

“Now that’s just some stupid dream that I can’t ever reach. It’s best if we just forget about that, alright?”

“No, we don’t need to forget about it,” you shook your head. “I won’t let you be controlled by whatever the First Order wants you to do. I’ll do whatever I can to free you from this control. Even if that’s not the way you want to go, you deserve the right to choose for yourself.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Don’t ever doubt yourself, alright?” you looked up at him with warm eyes, smile as bright as the twin Tatooine suns. “you deserve the galaxy and nothing less. The best that it has to give you, you deserve and more. I can sense that there is still good in you and you’ve got to hold on to that.”

Kylo gazed into your mesmerizing eyes, placing a hand over yours as he leaned into your touch. “As much as I don’t want you to be here in the Order, please, don’t ever leave again.”

“I won’t,” you promised. As you stood for a moment with Kylo, you were caught off guard as he leaned down to capture you in a kiss. His arm wrapped around you to lift you up closer to him by the small of your back. His lips danced against yours in the kiss, taking in the comfort of your energy. “Kylo…” you spoke against his lips as you retracted from the kiss for a quick breath.

“I-” he started, but was cut off as the datapad in his pocket buzzed. Kylo groaned out and pulled away from you and took out the small device. As the screen brightened, his face flushed of all color upon reading over the notification.

“What’s wrong?”

“He wants to speak with us, now,” he muttered out, gaze returning to meet yours. “Snoke’s summoning our presence…”

Tag List: @lovinghufflepuffgirl @emeraldsiren19 @fallinallinmendes @brujademente @tashastrange89 @bellaren18 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ashleykaiba @lysaalovely @ottjord @reylokisses @voraciousslut @scheherazades-horcrux

#Kylo Ren X Reader #KYlo Ren Reader Inserts #Kylo Ren Headcanons #Kylo Ren #Adam Driver

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veryberrybrenda · 5 years ago

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A Vacation Away from Wayhaven

I decided to write a snippet about if Unit Bravo ever decided to take a vacation. This is my first time ever writing something like this, so I hope you guys enjoy. I might do a part 2 where they l hang out in town. I couldn’t resist the angst of the Love Triangle :D This takes place a month or two after Book 2 by @seraphinitegames

“I spy…something green.” Felix’s words were laced with boredom as he stared past Mason out at the car window from the middle seat.

“If it’s another palm tree, I’m going to throw you out of this car!,” Mason growled. His grey eyes glowered at the young vampire.

I silently smiled at the comfortable banter surrounding me in the back seat of the Agency’s SUV. It had taken quite a bit of convincing by the others for me to use the Agency’s black SUV in favor of my silver hatchback.

Most of the arguing had been done by Adam.

“Your safety cannot be guaranteed in a car such a state as yours. Your life is far too valuable to be taken by that car,” Adam said with a heavy tone while his green eyes stared at me with such intensity that made me forget the whole insult and the fact that the rest of the team was also in the room.

Our gaze was only broken when I saw the corner of my eye Felix, who had the smile the size of the Cheshire cat plastered on his face, and Nate who had a look of confusion on his usually calm face. Adam having realized too that there were others watching him, shifted his gaze over to the nearby window of the warehouse searching for non-existent intruders.

I thought a weekend getaway for the team to my family vacation house would be a good idea for all of us. We are all strung as tight as a rope from all the tension from our failure at recapturing Murphy. The source of most of the tension came from Adam and Nate who shifted uneasily whenever Murphy was mentioned. After the relocation of the Maa-alused, the team had been focused on trying to locate Murphy once more after he escaped from the abandoned warehouse, which has been proving more difficult than I thought.

That name no longer sent shudders through my core since it had been months since he had last plagued my nightmares. It also helped that Nate was always comforting me and listening to my recollection of my nightmares when I had trouble sleeping.

Nate isn’t the only one that made the nightmares disappear.

It was true that Adam did comfort me too in my nightly walks when Murphy filled my sleep. We often would spar in the training rooms to get me to tire, so that sleep would come easier. Although we would sometimes end up on the benches talking. Our conversation seemed to flow easier at night. I don’t know if it’s the tiredness of training, but Adam was more open. Smiles were more common and once… I might’ve imagined it, but I swear I saw a flash of dimples on Adam’s pale cheeks after recounting the tale of my rebellious youth. But every time we got close, Adam would push me away by suggesting I head back to sleep, or he would exit the room. I will never get used to that habit and my heart sinking every time it happened.

I ran my fingers over the almost unnoticeable scar on my neck. It’s been an unconscious habit that I picked up after my near-death experience with Murphy. I try not to think about it that much since it will only slow me down in the investigation to bring that bastard to justice.

The vacation house hadn’t been visited by Mum and I for awhile now. Her job at the Agency had been keeping her busier these past couple of years and partly because I think the house reminds her too much of Dad. There are pictures of him all over the vacation house, which contrasts the amount in the family house, which was none.

“Do you visit this house often, Surina?” I looked up to see Nate’s warm brown eyes turned to face me from the passenger seat, which was the only seat that could contain his mile-long legs. He opted out of his usual neutral color clothing and brown jacket in favor for a cream cotton shirt that sleeves ended at his elbow. He also traded his jeans for tan Bermuda shorts. His whole outfit was simple and casual, yet very fitting considering our destination.

Emerald Coast.

It’s a tourist town known for its beautiful crystal-clear beaches. The water-- pristine. The sand -- so white that the light reflects off of it and makes for a beautiful scene and a popular settling for weddings.

The Emerald water is just as mesmerizing as Adam’s eyes.

I quickly shook the thought away as I turned my full attention towards Nate. “Not as often as I hoped, but I’m glad I get to share it with you guys,” I said with a bright smile while I ran my hands along the fabric my white romper. “There are so many secrets wonders hidden in the forest next to the house.”

“One I hope to explore with you.” Nate said in a sultry tone that had my body rank up a few degrees. It didn’t help that his eyes had gone dark with desire pulsating through them and he was staring at me with such a gaze that could melt the toughest of steel.

“Ahem.”

Both Nate and I broke our hypnotizing gaze from each other to look at Adam who was clearing his throat. He wore his usual attire of his green combat pants, but this time sporting his rare, blue tee-shirt that barely stretched over his hard muscles. His eyes were glued to the road with his aviator sunglasses reflecting the sun’s harsh rays.

Adam insisted that he drive because he was “better suited at reacting to unknown dangers on the road.” I agreed because I admit, vampires do have their benefits and also because it was a two-hour drive and driving too long makes my legs numb.

“I still don’t see how a vacation is any bit helpful in our mission,” Adam stated with a sneer.

“Well, spending time together will help build better trust in the team and so make us much more efficient in recapturing Murphy.” My voice confident as I gave a smirk.

That was the excuse I used on Mum and it had thankfully worked on her. She agreed that some down-time would be beneficial in seeing a new perspective on our case.

I gazed at the rearview mirror hoping to gauge at Adam’s reaction. My hopes fell short when I forgot he was wearing his sunglasses and I couldn’t view his eyes.

His icy green eyes that let me see the cracks in stoic mask.

However, I did see his body tense at my sudden attention towards him. What surprised me even more was his reply.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that logic,” Adam said with a teasing tone and gave a small smile that had my heart rate go up a few beats.

“My logic was the one who convinced you to go on this vacation,” I quipped.

“You like more than just her logic. Right Adam?” Felix flashed a wide smile as he leaned forward in his seat and brushed a black curl away from his amber eyes and into his purple cap while looking at both Adam and me with such a glee that only a toddler can possess.

Adam growled and his grip tighten on the steering wheel and I felt heat settle on my cheeks as I tucked a black strand of hair behind my ear. Nate placed a hand on his old friend’s shoulder in concern. The touch had the intended effect Nate wanted when Adam loosen his grip on the steering wheel.

Felix having been contented in the reaction from the leader and from me, lounged back in his seat with his hands behind his head. The buttons on his rather colorful tropical shirt stretched to accommodate his movements. He also lifted his legs, which was covered by brown cargo shorts that matched his dark skin and crisscrossed them in his seat. His right knee was now touching Mason’s side, which caused a growl to escape from the quiet vampire. Felix’s colorful shirt contrasted Mason’s usual dark attire. Felix threw a toothy grin before lowering his legs back to the ground.

“Who knows,” Felix shrugged. “You might even come to enjoy more time with our lovely Surina, almighty leader,” Felix threw a meaningful look at Adam as he spoke those words with a genuine, and surprising serious tone that made me ark a brow at the true meaning behind those words.

Nate who was distracted from the conversation with the map in his lap turned his gaze towards Adam. “We’re almost there. Just turn at this exit and we should be there in about twenty minutes.”

A contented sigh escaped from Mason who had been staring out at the window. “Finally. I can’t take much more of Felix’s chatter.”

We all laughed at Mason’s comment. Adam gave more of a small chuckle that made me smile even wider. That sound was something I wish I could hear more often.

I gazed out at the window, happy that I was growing closer to the team that had threw my world upside down. My thoughts then shifted to Adam and Nate and a frown made its way to my lips.

The more time I spend with both of them, the more uncertain my feelings become around them.

Especially Adam.

No, this vacation is about relaxing. Not about some feelings I have for a guy that pushes me away every time there are cracks in his walls. But what about the guy that is so warm and open and makes me feel like I could take on the whole world.

I quickly push these thoughts aside as I see the familiar view of the colorful town getting closer in my vision.

#The Wayhaven Chronicles #love triangle #twc #snippet

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beyondconfessor · 5 years ago

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Divine Transgressions

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: On Zelda’s wedding night, it’s not the Dark Lord that visits her, but Lilith.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

"The Dark Lord is growing inpatient," Lilith said, drawing the whiskey glass to her lips. "I'm doing everything from my end, but if what I hear from your end is even half true, well..." she trailed off.

Faustus looked up from his desk, unimpressed. "Her name is in the Book of the Beast, what more could he want?"

Lilith shrugged, "I don't presume to question the Dark Lord's will. Do you, Faustus?" she asked so sweetly that his face froze, a sharp glare in his eyes.

"It will have to wait. His unholy eminence will be here soon and I'd rather a demon was not lurking in my office's shadows when he arrives."

"The anti-pope?" Lilith questioned, trying to remember which dullard of a warlock was the current Pontifex Maximus. "Shouldn't he be..." she trailed off, not sure of what he and the council did. Sometimes, she would visit them in glamour and make them do all sorts of things for her amusement, but their intended purpose was to do something they perceived as judicial importance in the name of the Dark Lord.

As if Lucifer care either way, so as long as thy will was done.

"I'm to be married," Faustus said, a strange smile on his face. "We can discuss Sabrina after my honeymoon when-"

"Married?" Lilith echoed. "Didn't your last one die only a few days ago?"

"Months," he corrected, his irritation growing. "And it's no business of yours what I do with my life."

Lilith smiled dryly, "I see. Well blessings to you and...?"

Faustus put his pen down, finally realising that the paperwork wasn't going to get done while she was present. "Zelda. If you must know."

"Zelda." Lilith's smiled widened as she walked up to Faustus desk, placing her crystal glass down onto his paperwork. "A Spellman, Faustus?" she asked and drew in a long, deep breath. There was no lingering perfume that she could smell, only his cologne. "Must be love."

A faint blush coloured his cheeks as he sat back in his chair and awkwardly ran his hands down the leather arms of the chair. "Yes, well a position like this requires an adequate..."

Lilith laughed and pushed off his desk, taking the crystal glass with her to finish the last of the drink and set it back beside the other, clean crystalware, her lipstick a lovely stain on its side as she twisted it away from present view. "Ever so faithful, Zelda," Lilith said, looking to Faustus' carefully masked face as he shuffled through the papers on his desk. "Maybe the Dark Lord will visit her on this auspicious occasion."

"Maybe," Faustus nodded, and for just the briefest flash, Lilith saw jealousy flare in his eyes at the idea of the Dark Lord visiting his Bride-to-be.

Interesting.

"Well, happy tidings all the same. I'll watch over Sabrina in your absence then, shall I?"

Faustus nodded, picking up his pen again to return to his work. "Until next time, demon."

"Of course," she said, before slipping out from his office.

------

Lilith knew the Dark Lord would not visit the future Lady Blackwood. Lucifer hadn't visited a witch on her wedding night since...well she couldn't exactly remember when, but there had been all sorts of lovely lingerie to remove. Garters and stockings and stays.

Lilith sighed, remembering the feeling of silk beneath her fingers, of crumpling lace and tearing hosiery with her teeth that had taken someone weeks to make; the decadence of it all, hiding the ugliness of the rot and plague that seeped through the mortal streets.

But here, watching Faustus greet the anti-pope – how Zelda's eyes glimmered at the attention the pope showed, and how Faustus' jealousy grew as the anti-Pope reached out to take her hand solely in his grip – Lilith longed for Hell. For its courts and its lesser kings, the deceits and dances they wove around one another, toppling each other for power.

"Arise, Sister, you please both Satan and myself," the anti-Pope directed.

Zelda rose to her feet, glowing with excitement that Lilith, as Mary Wardwell, had never seen.

Was this Faustus' doing, she wondered?

No, Lilith decided. Zelda's eyes did not turn to Faustus for approval or guidance. They watched the anti-pope, and they listened, and the witch's smile grew and grew as the anti-pope, in turn, had himself guided in her hands through to the entrance of the Academy.

Power, Lilith realised, and her smile grew in turn. What fun.

She followed them inside, slinking through the shadows, but while Faustus showed off the art collection that decorated the halls towards the centre chambers, Lilith diverted her path and moved to where she knew the bed chambers would be.

The anti-pope would take the grandest ones, of course. Faustus would keep to his own, but Zelda. Zelda would have an elegant, adjoining room to her Maid of Dishonour (no doubt her niece and if not, her sister) down the hall from Faustus but not so near the anti-Pope.

Slipping through the chambers, she wandered until she found one that had a dark, golden coloured dress hanging on the door of a wardrobe that could only belong to Zelda Spellman. It was too modest and sensual for either of the two young Spellmans.

Lilith clicked the door shut and wandered to the lingerie. She reached out and ran a hand down the soft material, watching the light shimmer over it.

It would not only compliment against Zelda's hair but her complexion too, and as such Lilith admired its buttons and thought to herself that maybe, she wouldn't tear this apart.

Putting the dress aside, she moved across the room, finger over the dressing table and play with jewellery and cosmetics that had been laid out for Zelda to change into.

How long, would Zelda wait for the Dark Lord? Lilith wondered, as she picked up a red hue of lipstick, and removed its lid, marking it on her wrist. No, not her shade. She took another one and did the same. Much better, she thought and leant forward in the mirror, applying to her mouth.

Lilith had worn many skins and many faces. It was more comfortable to wear a woman's, both for her sanity and the ease it provided to be underestimated by warlocks. But despite all the face she'd worn, this was one of her favourites. It'd been wasted on the dowdy Mary Wardwell, and really, a look like this was hard to beat.

Lilith took the eyeliner, re-applying her own.

Happy with how she presented, she stepped away from the dressing table and moved to the task at hand. Down the back of the room, beside the bed to where the doorway was for the adjoining room.

Lilith pushed the door open into the unlit room and slipped inside.

She couldn't have anyone interrupting.

Pulling out a piece of chalk, she marked the door with her magic, sealing it to be a one-way door only.

Then, she sat at the end of the bed and waited. It wasn't long before she heard the shuffling of people turning in. Then Lilith listened to a familiar sound of heels clicking down the halls, her speculation confirmed when the adjacent room's door opened and closed with a creak.

"Cyanide Hilda?" she could hear Zelda click her tongue. "Well, a dishonourable death is well deserved after what she did to poor Constance."

"Oh, yes, well I've buried out in the forest. Took a few bits, of course, for that-"

"Do I need to remind you of where we are?"

"Oh, sorry. Just a bit nervous, I suppose."

"Of course you are. It's your big day tomorrow, after all," Zelda dryly reminded. "Now help me out of this heaven forsaken dress."

Lilith hummed, pushing off the end of the bed to walk over to the wall and press her ear to it. Zelda had looked rather lovely in the figure-hugging dark dress. There was always a sense of poise and grace she wore in her usual day outfits.

Oh, what she would have done to her if chance had arisen in that delightful parlour room. But appearances had to be kept, and certain people had been around.

"Now, love, are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"With the marriage? Hilda, I've told you and Sabrina both-"

"No, no, I mean tonight. I-I've heard stories, Zelds."

Lilith rolled her eyes, pushing from the wall. She didn't care to listen to any cautionary tale or Zelda's urgency of honour to be chosen by the Dark Lord. Instead, she opened the sister's wardrobe and flicked through the contents, looking for something.

She could still hear the muffled berating from Zelda and the apologetic whine that came from the young sister.

Hilda had only hung up her wedding attire, a cotton nightgown, and a satin black dressing gown.

Lilith fingered the thick sash, and then pulled it from the gown's loops into her hands as all sorts of thoughts came to mind.

She measured out a length and then used her teeth to tear it from the remainder of the sash. Then, folding up the two pieces, she stuffed them into her bra for later.

Soon would come her moment, but first, she wanted to see how long Zelda would wait before the excitement turned to apprehension.

Sitting back down on the throw of the guest bed, Lilith cocked her head and listened as the chatter between sisters died down to brief moments of conversation. She waited longer until there was the gentle patter of bare feet pacing the floor.

There was her moment.

Slipping into the hall, she spelled a simple keep-away charm down its length and took a moment to poise herself before the doorway.

It'd been a while since she glamoured herself in a way, but where others often failed in the disguise, Lilith was intimately familiar with the Dark Lord and graced with more powerful magics that your standard witch. It wasn't challenging to thunder the door open and step inside the room, watching as Zelda froze and Hilda shook at the very sight of her Dark Lord standing in the entrance.

"I...I'll just slip on out then," Hilda said before nearly tripping over herself to exit to the very same adjacent room that Lilith had just exited. There was a pop, and Lilith felt her ward snap into place on that doorway.

Lilith watched as Zelda lifted her skirts and gracefully kneeled before the bed, a very slight tremor in her hands that she flexed and then pushed away until she knelt with a tall back, her shoulders back.

It was so mean, so terribly cruel to step closer, her feet heavy on the ground as she summoned the door shut, a quick seal upon it to deafen the room to outside noises.

"My Lord," Zelda bowed her head. "I am honoured."

Lilith's smile widened, pleased with the trick she played as the tremble started again in the woman's hands as Lilith stepped behind her.

Before her perfume could give her away, Lilith sunk behind the woman and then snatched out - grabbing the woman's jaw in her grip before she brought her own face gently to the witch's ear and nudged her nose against it. The woman shivered.

"Hello Zelda," she whispered, holding her still as she brushed the hair over one shoulder, revealing the witch's neck. Lilith leant down, breathing in the scent of Zelda's perfume and magic before she kissed the throat.

"Who-" Zelda began audaciously before Lilith bit down on where the witch's shoulder met neck.

"It's not only the Dark Lord who visits His most faithful," she whispered, pressing a faint kiss over the imprinted bite mark.

She watched, from the very corner of Zelda's face, as the woman's lips pressed, first in thought, before parting open with a soft breath, whispering her name so sweetly. "Lilith."

"Aren't you clever," she said, and snaked a hand over Zelda's waist and felt the witch's breath exhale out slowly, her body loosening from its tight coil as if she was almost...relieved? Oh, what divine blasphemy.

"What are you doing here?" Zelda asked, as Lilith pressed another kiss, higher on the neck, and then higher again, still holding the woman's jaw with her other hand. "Ah," the woman swallowed, looking for the words, "What I intended to say-"

"Do you not want me here?" she asked, splaying her hand across the witch's abdomen to feel her intake a breath as Lilith sucked against her pulse-point. "I could leave you alone on your wedding night, never to be seen again. But I had thought you might want to...enjoy your last night of freedom, so to speak."

She could feel the breath-hold as if Zelda was refraining from making some noise, or simply holding her tongue.

"Hmm?" Lilith prompted kissing on the underside of her jaw.

"You should stay," Zelda said, her voice low and husky before she swallowed and the quietest, "please," whispered out.

Lilith grinned, a quiver slipping down low into her body. The Great Zelda Spellman, whispering please of her own free will? How very unheard of. "At your request," Lilith said and gently slid a hand down to the woman's knee and began slowly drawing the dress up as she returned to marking the woman's throat a lovely new shade of bite marks and bruises just to feel the moans Zelda was holding back from escaping her vocal cords.

The witch's head tilted, turning to look for her and Lilith held it tighter in her grip before she could see the all too familiar face of Mary Wardwell. "Uh-uh," she tsked. "Eyes forward witch."

Zelda followed her instruction and Lilith let her fingers ease on the jawline and then drop away altogether as the woman continued to obey. (How delicious).

Reaching into the bust of her dress, she pulled out one of the pieces of the satin sash she'd stolen from the adjacent room and unspooled it. Taking its length, she slipped it over Zelda's eyes, before charming it to fall flush over the witch's vision, knotting it to the back of her head - the charm would hold better if it was genuine silk, but satin would do well enough. There it would remain in place until Lilith otherwise undid the knot.

With Zelda still kneeling before her, Lilith came to rest beside her, drawing fingers through the copper hair. In the firelight, the hair looked aflame, glimmering like gold in her touch.

"When you were young, you would pray to me nightly, whispering all sorts of pretty words under your breath so your mother wouldn't hear." Her hand continued to unravel the curls, drawing the hair down the woman's back. "And then every so slowly, you stopped, until only a flutter of words were spoken here and there."

"My Lady, I still provide offerings during the Midsummer-"

"Yes, yes. I'm not mad. Eventually, the Dark Lord eclipses everything in our lives," she said, nevertheless combing her fingers through Zelda's hair, watching the woman melt in the sensation. "But I can't say that I'm a little hurt to barely become a footnote to your prayers. To be only enacted to provide strength to withstand your dear, dear niece, as she defies your every wish for her."

At those words, Zelda stilled, her breath pausing as Lilith began to loop the hair around her fingers.

"Tell me, Zelda, what would you do if I told you it was the Dark Lord's will to extinguish the girl from your life?"

Zelda's lips parted, her chest rising as she fumbled for some lie. "I-I would d-"

Lilith yanked the woman's head back by her hair, cutting her words off with a gasp.

"No need to lie, it's just us girls here."

Zelda bit her tongue, with a defiant press of her lips. Well, if that's how she wanted to play...

Lilith looked over the compliant body in her grip. Zelda had arched her back, her fingers gripping at the throw on the bed. Still, she remained on her knees, but with a gentle flush blooming over her chest against the pale skin.

With her left hand, Lilith reached up and touched against the pink spilling across the clavicle. She could feel the woman's magic, crackling just beneath the surface of the woman's skin as it reached for her.

Shifting her dress up, Lilith slid one leg over the woman's thighs and settled herself atop of them. She tilted Zelda's head back (her right hand still holding her in her grip) and looked over the witch's lips.

With a ruby red nail, she fixed the very edge of lipstick that wasn't entirely even of the bottom of Zelda's lip, watching the mouth part and the woman's tongue flicker against teeth. There was a brief rise of her chin tilting towards her before Lilith gripped her hair tighter, reminding Zelda of who was in charge here.

"Marriage isn't a nice colour on you."

"We do what we must to rise."

Lilith smiled, finding particular resonance in it. How many dozens of centuries had she spent serving her Lord now? All the things she'd done, all the humiliation and pain she faced in the name of service.

"Be careful he doesn't fracture you," she said. "Men will ask it of you, bit by bit until there's nothing left of what you were."

"Faustus is just a man."

Lilith laughed. Wasn't that just true, she thought as she leant forward and pressed her lips to the witch's own. Zelda's responded, parting to taste her and with it, Lilith felt the witch's magic grow as the energy pulled between them.

Zelda tasted of red wine and smoke, and the coppery taste of magic at the very edges of it. Most witches, you could barely feel the magic until the very heat of sex (and sometimes, even then), but the Spellmans were not just any witches.

They were an old, powerful lineage, and as Lilith bit Zelda's lips, she could taste something ancient in their blood.

Were they descended from Nephilim, she wondered, sucking on the lip as she curled her hand tighter into Zelda's hair. Or were they from the aes sídhe, across the waters? A crossing between druids and the Unseelie courts?

Zelda moaned against her mouth and Lilith bit harder, her free hand slipping down the witch's body and tugging her closer, trying to draw their magic together to discover what she was, what the Spellmans were.

Zelda's hand had found her waist, then they had trailed up and found her back, nails pressing through the material of the dress as Lilith moved from the witch's mouth, down to the opposing side of the neck that she hadn't festered with her mark.

The hands dug in her back and then drew higher as Zelda reached for the zipper.

"Eager are we?" Lilith asked.

"Forgive me, but if I can't see you, I would very much like to feel..." she said, momentarily lapsing to hush a moan.

Zelda tugged the dress down Lilith's shoulders, before seeming to forget what she was doing as she grew taught as the demon teeth sunk into her shoulder. The witch always held herself so tense that it was no wonder the pressure on her shoulder caused her to nearly dissolve in Lilith's grasp.

And with such sweet sighs, too.

Lilith grinned against the pale skin, watching it bloom with wine-coloured bruises. When Zelda rose the next morning, she would find that her spells and cosmetics would be unwilling to hide the damages, so that when Faustus undressed his bride, he would see Lilith's mark all over Zelda's body.

"Lilith," Zelda sang into her ear, pushing their bodies closer.

Lilith rather enjoyed the woman keening in her hands, that as she moved her mouth to hers and felt the hushed moans against her lips, it was like drowning within the moment, as everything slipped away.

Until doors gave a cracking noise as something tried to pass her wards.

Naughty, naughty, she glared, casting a curse to the entrance so that those that touched it found themselves searing back with pain. For good measure, she marked the doorway with the Dark Lord's sign, making it quite apparent that Zelda was otherwise occupied on her pre-wedding night.

She could only imagine the trouble lurking outside.

"Did you say something?" Zelda asked, tilting her head as if to look at her through the blindfold.

Lilith ran her eyes over the witch: from the hair already tangled by her embrace and smudged lipstick across swollen lips to the bruises that littered across the witch's throat and finally the dressing gown that was slipping down her shoulders. "What an awful mess," she said, proud of herself.

"A mess?" Zelda retorted tightly.

Lilith shoved at the woman's shoulders, throwing Zelda onto her back. Before the witch could react, she tugged at the sleeves of the gown and tore the material down to her waist, popping the buttons she promised herself earlier she would look after –– but really, they were in the way, and it was much more fun to do it like this.

Lilith bent forward, kissing down Zelda's cleavage to where the corset curved up, pressing over the breasts.

Zelda's hand had come up to tangle in her hair, curling into the dark mass of Mary Wardwell's curls. "Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?" Lilith asked as she felt the movement of Zelda's knees parting behind her.

"No, I-"

Lilith hushed her objection, kissing her once more.

The hand in her hair tangled tighter as Zelda's other slid down the exposed skin from her unzipped dress (the dress its self still hanging from her arms, but she'd get to that soon).

With a wave of her hand, the bridal corset popped open, and Lilith grabbed the material, discarding it to the other side of the room. Now, Zelda's abdomen was clear of any unwanted clothing, leaving Lilith free to mark her skin down her sternum, over her ribs and the across until she rose up again to where the breast was.

Lilith drew her mouth close, feeling Zelda arch towards her, anticipating what was to come.

She drew her teeth over the contour of the breast, nipping at the edge of the areola.

Zelda began to squirm underneath her, growing annoyed at the lack of attention to other parts of her body.

"Patience," she warned, and then, knowing it would annoy her, Lilith pulled away from Zelda, moving to stand-up. There was a shuddered breath as she rose, moving so that her heels pressing to either side of the witch's hips and effectively held Zelda in place so that Lilith could look down, entertained by the mess she was creating.

Zelda laid on her back, her arms splayed out on either side of her, the gold gown had been ripped down to her waist, leaving her upper half beautifully exposed with her hair tossed around her like a halo as firelight danced across her skin. She looked divine, in the literal sense and Lilith felt her self leaning to the idea of Nephilim Spellman history.

She stepped away from Zelda and unzipped the last of dress, before allowing it to drop to the ground.

Zelda's head rolled, turning to the source of the noise with a mischievous smirk.

Noticing the witch was still overdressed for the occasion, Lilith grabbed at the skirts of the golden gown and gave a gentle tug, pleased as she watched the witch lift her hips and allow the dress to slide over her thighs and down her calves to where she raised her bare feet to let the material to slip away, tossed somewhere behind them both.

She rather enjoyed the fairer sex for many reasons, but undressing them was something that was exceptionally more fun.

Where Lilith stood tall, still in heels and stockings hooked to a rather lovely garter belt with a matching lingerie set (wholly wasted on the blindfolded Zelda, but oh well, dressing the part was half the fun), Zelda, in turn, was as stripped bare as Eve had been in the garden, with her knees and calves pressed together in a show of modesty.

She eyed the legs, the gentle curve of the calves and swell of thighs to backside. Oh, dear. We can't have that.

Lilith pressed the toe of her shoe between the woman's knees and nudged the legs apart. Zelda drew in a breath, the ribs expanding before she complied.

"Much better," Lilith said to her. Not only could she now smell her arousal, but she could also now see just how excited she was. The wetness was already slipping down the witch's thighs, glistening in the golden hue coming from the hearth.

Maybe the Spellman blood was divinity. A child of Persephone, perhaps. Freyja, she considered, as she moved to kneel between the spread legs and run her hands up the woman's calves, across the supple thighs. Venus, born from sea-foam.

Hooking her hands underneath the witch's legs, she tugged the woman's hips up and against her abdomen, so Zelda's backside and lower back rested against her thighs, almost straddling her, except that the rest of her remained spread out on the floorboards, her head tilting towards her, once again making Lilith wonder if she could see through the material.

Unlikely. If Zelda could, she would have had a temper tantrum about what face was before her.

"Comfortable?"

"Not in the least," Zelda answered, with a rather impertinent smile on her lips, Lilith thought. They were swollen from her bites, and a lovely cut marked to the left side of the bottom lip where Lilith's teeth had punctured, and yet the witch wasn't the least bit bothered by it.

Lilith was beginning to like her more and more.

If only the Dark Lord had sent her to guard this Spellman and mould her to be the Herald. Lilith would have only half-minded, she thought. And this Spellman was much more amiable to her own desires.

Drawing her fingers over Zelda's hips, into the dip of her waist before she took the woman into her grip and lifted her onto her lap, properly having the woman straddle her.

Zelda's hands rested on her shoulders before her thumbs looped over the straps of her bra and then slid down, across its cups, down her waist to the garter belt and stockings attached. She dipped her head, and Lilith could see a single eyebrow rising above the blindfold as Zelda snapped at the garter belt, seemingly unimpressed.

"So you tear my clothes asunder but keep yours immaculate?"

"You have a change of clothes, and I have places to be once I'm done with you."

"Done with me?" Zelda said, chuckling. "You and I both know that you will not come out of this 'done with me'."

Lilith glared. Then, realising Zelda couldn't see it, she pinched at the skin on the witch's hips.

Zelda's hands slapped at hers, and Lilith could feel the glare trying to penetrate through the satin sash.

"Striking a lady, Zelda?" she teased, grabbing the woman's wrists. "We can't have that."

She wrenched the witch's hands to her face, and then laid a soft kiss to the inside of each wrist, before pressing them together. Zelda's shoulders eased as Lilith let go, which gave Lilith the pleasure of watching the woman draw her hands back, before realising that they wouldn't separate from each other.

"What-?" Zelda asked, before a brief hiss as she tried to glare at her again as Lilith began laughing. "Is this how you play with others?"

Lilith shrugged, making a noncommital noise as she reached into her bra and pulled out the remaining length of the sash. Taking Zelda's hands in hers again, she wound the material around the wrists and knotted them prettily with a tight, even bow at the end.

"Is this really necessary after the witch's epoxy?"

"No. But neither is the black lace that I'm wearing, and I must say, I look rather ravishing in it."

"Truly? Perhaps I-?"

"No," Lilith interrupted. "I rather quite like you blind and bound. Makes for a very nice package to unwrap."

Zelda huffed again, shuffling against Lilith's legs. "With how you're going, I imagine you're the type that likes to delicately peel off the wrapping to save for later."

Definitely not, but Lilith knew Zelda was trying to get things to move at a faster pace.

"Zelda, Zelda, Zelda. You must have patience if you want to enjoy this. I could very much well be a warlock and dive right in, have my way and finish terribly fast, but I'm sure you'll get enough of that during the rest of your miserable marriage."

"Faustus is-"

Lilith dug her nails into the woman's hips, deep enough to begin to pierce the skin and get a lovely gasp that eased into a soft hush from Zelda. "Let's not spend the rest of our evening speaking of warlocks," she said. "Especially when there are such...lovely other things we could be doing with our time." To make her point clear, she began drawing the tips of her nails softly over the marks, teasing the skin just...

Lilith blinked, watching the woman's muscles contract, her back give a small spasm as if she had tried to contain a more significant movement.

"Are you ticklish, Zelda?"

"Of course not," she lied as her body did it again.

Lilith watched in fascination as she bluntly ran her nails over the skin, ever so slightly, wishing she had a Wartenberg wheel to use instead. Gooseflesh broke out over the skin she touched, the muscles contracting as Zelda tried and failed to remain composed.

Lilith played ran her fingers over the thighs, up her lower back, then upper back and across the shoulders, watching the witch squirm as specific patterns caused the woman's nerves to electrify.

Perhaps it was their magic, or merely the nerve ends sparking from the touch. Either way, Lilith rather enjoyed the delicious torture of the blindfolded and bound woman squirming on her lap, soaking through her stocking as she tried to hold back her whimpers.

"Yes, fine. Fine!" Zelda said, using her elbow to try to push Lilith's hands away. "If you must know I am ticklish and it's rather embarrassing. So could you please stop, because, mm..." she trailed off, holding back what should have been a rather lovely mewl.

Lilith grinned, trailing her fingers back down to the woman's thighs as she used her mouth to press bite at her shoulder once more. Zelda bowed her head, her lips by Lilith's ear as she sucked in small breaths.

"It's..." Zelda tried to explain, as her hips rocked against her thigh.

"Too much? Not enough? Not where it's...needed, perhaps?" and Lilith pressed one thigh against Zelda's sex, before sliding it deliberately to let friction spark against it.

Zelda licked her lips and then drew her self to sit up tall on Lilith's lap, every bit the poised witch she'd been raised to be, though Lilith could see the woman's hands were clenched together, knuckles turning white.

"Must you tease?"

"Would you rather I was the Dark Lord?"

"I thought we weren't talking of men," Zelda clipped back at her.

"We weren't talking about warlocks, but the Dark Lord is not a warlock, so..." she trailed off, beginning to rerun circles on the woman's thighs.

"Stop it."

"As you wish," Lilith said and drew her hands away to rest on the ground as she leant back against the bed.

A part of her really would like to see Zelda's eyes, see her pupils expand and contract with desire, her lashes flutter as she drifted between sensation, but she couldn't reveal herself just yet. Maybe one day she'll seduce her as Mary Wardwell and do this all over again.

Lilith hummed, running her hands up the lovely body, coming to cup the breasts, her thumbs running over the erected nipples. All the things she wanted to do and only a single night to do it. Maybe she'll visit dear Zelda in a pretty glamour.

No, she was too shrewd for that. She'd have to do something else then.

Pinching both nipples, Lilith laughed as Zelda yelped and tried to push her hands away.

"You're as bad as-"

"Yes?" Lilith waited, watching as Zelda seemed to remember who she was speaking to and pressed her lips shut.

"A cat," Zelda answered, but Lilith knew it wasn't the word she'd been thinking of before. "Playing with its prize before it eats it."

"And are you done being played with?" Lilith asked. She drew one hand away from Zelda's body, carefully watching the woman's response. "Would you like to be eaten?"

Zelda's lips were pursed again, holding her tongue.

Lilith leant forward and kissed her sweetly, feeling the woman's body ease against her. "Tell me you want me," Lilith said between a kiss.

"I want you," Zelda said against her mouth, her voice lighter than it had been before. There was an earnest desire to it, and Lilith felt her own magic thrum through her body in response.

She kissed Zelda again, eager and hungry to taste the words and see if they were as sweet as they had sounded. With one hand, she grasped at Zelda's jaw, fingers tangling in locks of her hair as she tried to hold her as close as possible to herself.

And as Zelda's body pressed to hers, Lilith slipped two fingers between the straddling thighs and slid inside of her, feeling the witch clench around her fingers.

Zelda's moan reverberated into her mouth, her hips rocking at the pace Lilith had set.

"Good girl," Lilith said against her lips and was rewarded with the witch growling as she adjusted her position, slipping from a straddle to kneeling before her.

Zelda's bound arms had slung over Lilith's shoulders, her knees on either side of the demoness, against the wooden floor. It made it easier to slip a third finger inside of her and cup her sex. It also made it easier for Zelda to ride her hand.

Zelda was unlike most beings that Lilith had been with, mortal and witch kind alike. Zelda wasn't just allowing herself to be fucked, she was actively participating in the fucking, placing on a whole performance as if she was running the show.

Her mouth was hot against Lilith's, with the most divine noises slipping between gasps and Lilith wondered if she'd been right.

If she would ever be done with this.

Even as she felt the witch tense, her body beginning to tremble in hands, Zelda's endurance continued as she rode through the first orgasm with barely a break in pace, and persisted into another. Her mouth fell away from Lilith's to slump against the demoness' shoulder as she came again, this time with a high keening noise as her muscles all seemed to contract and quiver.

The was a pulse of magic, and Lilith felt it thunder through the air dispersing, utterly wasted without a spell to expand.

She slid her fingers out, feeling the body tremble against her as Zelda's breath came ragged in her ear. A hushed, "Praise Satan."

Lilith's hand was drenched as she sat it against the witch's hip, hearing the words echo in ears. "Praise Satan?" Lilith asked as Zelda tried to steady herself.

The witch made a brief hummed agreement, and Lilith narrowed her eyes, a low growl in the back of her throat rising.

She pushed Zelda's arm away from her and then shoved the woman back to the ground, before pulling the witch's legs open and drew her mouth over thighs, biting where she saw fit as Zelda's hands came up to tangle in her air, her hips already rising towards her.

Lilith wasn't sweet this time. Holding the woman's hips steady, she pressed her mouth against the drenched slit and ate her as promised. Her tongue licking out the arousal greedily before moving to the woman's swollen clit.

She slid three fingers inside of Zelda again and felt as the witch's hands tangled tighter in her hair, trying to pull her to where she needed attention.

Zelda came again, fast, but as her body faltered, Lilith's pace increased.

She could feel the witch's legs over her shoulders, her thighs quivering on either side, but Lilith wasn't finished with her yet.

As one orgasm finished, her fingers continued to thrust inside Zelda, feeling the walls clench around her. Her teeth grazing against the clit as she licked and sucked around the hood and across the slickened folds.

Zelda's nails were digging into her scalp, her bare heels pressing hard into her back as simultaneously drew Lilith closer while trying to push her away.

Her moans would grow loud, before turning to a high keen as she cried out a "Praise...Sa-," and Lilith nipped at the flesh in her mouth in warning, chuckling as Zelda's moan cut off with a yelp.

With each rush of wetness on her tongue, the clenching against her fingers and the trembling of Zelda's thighs, Lilith continued to not just fuck the witch, but absolutely ravish her through the night until Zelda's cries of delights turned to a panted, "enough, Lilith. Please. I can't...I ––"

Lilith stroked her tongue, fingers thrusting until a hard cry spilled from Zelda's mouth before she let go and fell against the hardwood floor, her breaths coming out in a tired pant.

There, Lilith rose, slipping her fingers out from the woman.

Zelda's skin was no longer pale, but a flushed pink with lipstick smudges, bruises and bite marks across every length of the front of her body. Her chest rose and fell with fast breaths, a tugging smile on her swollen lips as she let out a weak chuckle.

Lilith felt proud of the ravaged mess. She did that, she was the cause of Zelda's exhausted muscles and trembling limbs.

"Well," Zelda said, catching her breath.

"Well," Lilith echoed, bringing her drenched hand to her lips. She licked them clean one-by-one, again wishing that Zelda could see her.

On shaky limbs, Zelda tried to sit up, but the decorum of grace was lost as she stumbled back to the ground and then seemed to lie there, realising she didn't have the strength to get up.

Lilith smirked, enjoying the witch fumble like a helpless kitten. Perhaps that will teach her as to who she should praise for her orgasms.

Lilith rose and kicked off her heels. Walking over to Zelda, she placed one arm underneath shoulders, and the other hooking under the back of her knees before lifting the witch into the air.

Zelda didn't argue, her body going lax in the firm grip as Lilith carried her onto the bed that, aside from the very end of the bedspread, was still finely made-up.

"I didn't-" Zelda went to say before Lilith hushed her, bending down to press lips to hers.

"Another time," she promised.

Zelda chuckled against her lips. "Told you you wouldn't be done with me."

Lilith cocked an eyebrow at her. "If you're going to act like that, I won't come back."

"Yes, you will."

Lilith felt her annoyance with the witch return and with it arousal. She was right, she would probably find another way, but it didn't mean that she had to know that.

Running a hand over the woman's hair, she whispered a sleep spell and was satisfied to watch Zelda's head dropped against the pillow, her breaths turning low and deep as she fell asleep.

Dawn was close and as such Lilith re-dressed, going to the dresser table to fix her hair and make-up, and re-apply the lipstick she'd borrowed earlier. Touching up the edges of her lips, she twisted her head left then right, looking over her neck and shoulder to see what marks she'd have to cover up before attending Baxter High.

Lilith's fingers dragged over a particular mark on her shoulder, before adjusting the dress sleeve to cover it, a smile on her lips as she rose and placed her heels back on.

It had been a while since she had enjoyed herself like this.

Before she left, she walked over to the sleeping witch and with a tug, undid both the witch's epoxy and blindfold, spooling the pieces of material up to leave them on the bedside table as a reminder of their night.

Though the bite marks she'd left would undoubtedly remain a much sweeter reminder, they would fade with time. Which was a shame, she thought, trailing her fingers over the four different marks exposed on Zelda's bare neck and shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, pleased with how the room smelt of sex, sweat and magic. Lilith walked over to the fire and placed another log onto it so it would keep until the witch awoke enough to drag the covers over herself.

Exiting the bed-chamber, she allowed her ward to crumble, before she slipped into the shadows of the Academy.

The Academy halls smelt of freshly spilt blood and Lilith could only imagine what fresh Hell Faustus was digging around in, but she'd worry about that later. She had matters to attend to.

And future seductions to plan. After all, she wasn't done with Zelda Spellman just yet.

#zelda spellman #lilith #madam spellman #zelith #caos fanfic #caos #morgans fics

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 5 years ago

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Killer Queen - Chapter 10: Dreamers Ball

Summary: Life is easy when things go your way. I know this from experience. I also know that that can disappear in an instant and that you have to be able to rely on your friends. Luckily my name is Arabella Ruth White and I’m the fifth marauder. But I want to show you the girl behind the mask. It takes a lot of work to be this fabulous, darling. (This story is also on Wattpad and AO3 of the same name.)

A/N: So, I recently binge-read all of Lore Olympus on Webtoons and if you haven’t read it, then I highly recommend it. It’s about the Greek Gods (mainly Persephone and Hades) but it deals with some mature themes just to warn you. The chapter title comes from Queen’s 1978 album, Jazz.

Warning(s): alcohol, drugs, swearing, implied sex

Word Count: 4.3k+ (this was one word off of being 4400 words so that’s annoying)

Inspiration: random headcanons I found on Tumblr and Pinterest, The Boy Who Killed God by SeraMGrigori on AO3, All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 on AO3, Sweet Things by Cocomouse on AO3

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26

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Throwing a birthday ball might just have been my best idea thus far, if I did say so myself, and it hadn’t even started yet. I was gradually walking through the doors of the Great Hall, embracing my dramatic entrance for every little millisecond that it was worth. All eyes were on me, as they should be since it was my birthday and I bloody love attention, and suddenly I understood what brides must feel like when they walk down the aisle. The train of my sparkling golden gown trailed along behind me, leaving a stream of glitter in my wake. It had been both a style choice and a way to infuriate Filch when he had to clean it up. Have fun with that, you miserable bastard. The Great Hall was decorated from top to bottom in gold, gold streamers, gold glitter, gold balloons. It was akin to the Emerald City from The Wizard Of Oz but, well, gold. Anyone who was anyone was among the crowd watching me, providing they were at least a fifth year; I didn’t want little kids at my birthday party, thank you very much. The only ones I would even consider would be Rhea and Luke, but they weren’t at Hogwarts yet and right now, I was grateful for that. As far as I could see, everyone had a glass of amber-coloured liquid in their hand, which I assumed was butterbeer for the far majority of people in the hall. Some minuscule part of me wanted to squirm under all of the attention, but I suppressed it as best as I could. I had a reputation to keep up, after all.

You may be wondering how on earth I got access to the Great Hall for my birthday party, and honestly, I can’t blame you for pondering such a thing. It had been a complete stroke of luck which had come in the form of good old Minnie McGee. I’d been explaining my plan for the ball to the lads during one breakfast back in September, yes my plans for it have been in the works for that long what are you going to do about it, and Minnie had overhead while she was walking past our usual spot. I’m quite sure she has some kind of hearing superpower, even though that particular sense should be decaying with her old age rather than growing. And just in case you’ve somehow found this, naturally, I mean no offence, Minerva, so please don’t give me another detention I really don’t want one please and thank you. She’d then gone on to offer the Great Hall for the party but with three conditions. One, she could go and bring Dumbledore as her ‘date’, two, we served nothing stronger than butterbeer and three, we actually worked hard for our OWLs which were just around the corner. Initially, we all thought that she was joking but it turned out that she was deadly serious (naturally Sirius had interrupted her with his classic pun) and that she was, in fact, rather looking forward to going to a party for the first time in a while. James had then asked if she was on drugs, because quite frankly this was one of the nicest things she had ever done for us, and she came very close to whacking him upside the head for even suggesting such a thing. But she never actually denied it, so I still secretly think she does weed. I don’t know about you, but I can most certainly see it.

Now, as you’d expect, I was rather disappointed at Minnie’s suggestion of a near total absence of alcohol, but it hadn’t been long before Sirius, always searching for an excuse to drink to the point where I often wondered if he was addicted, had suggested something quite marvellous: an afterparty. Such a seemingly straightforward idea quickly turned into something so much more. We decided to hold it later on in the night in the Room of Requirement, and only the elite people knew about it and, subsequently, invited. And by ‘elite’, I mean the male specimens I call friends, the females who I love and cherish and a couple of other people. And that was bound to be very much alcohol-fuelled. As long as I had that to look forward to, I could endure a much more age-appropriate evening, just not for too long.

Finally, I reached the platform where the teachers would usually sit during meals, and bear in mind that I had been milking the moment for way longer than necessary, so this did take some time. I cleared my throat for effect before speaking in an impossibly posh voice, “Thank you all for attending my ball this evening. I won’t talk for too long because I would hate to bore you to tears, I’ll leave that job to Professor Binns. Now, Minnie, don’t look at me like that, we all know it’s true. Look, even Dumbledore agrees with me and you can’t argue with Dumbledore. Moving on, I would like to say a couple of things so entertain me for a moment. One, if any of you are caught drinking anything stronger than butterbeer, then I will happily leave you to face the wrath of our dear Minerva on your own, I have no intention of arguing with any teacher tonight.” A few giggles rippled throughout the crowd as well as a few pouty faces from people who were doing a shockingly awful job at hiding mini bottles of firewhiskey behind their backs. It wasn’t my problem, I did say this on the invites I sent out, if they chose to go against that then they would deal with the consequences, not me. I continued, “Two, I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight and remember, it ends at precisely eleven o’clock, which means don’t hang around. Frank and Alice, I’m looking at you.” The couple in question blushed furiously and Alice gave me a death stare that could rival the one I get from Remus when I gather enough courage to steal some of his chocolate. I then clapped twice to signal the official start of the ball and music began to blast from the speakers I’d linked up to my record player which was enchanted to start playing a record whenever I clapped my hands.

It took a second, but people were soon dancing and mingling and doing whatever else people do at parties. I made a beeline straight for the boys but ignored their greetings, instead, I grabbed two, I wasn’t sure which ones, and, hoping that they were all following if they weren’t being dragged, marched over to the drinks table. I let go of whoever I had been holding to pour myself a much-needed butterbeer, but in a wine glass because I’m classy like that, leaving two boys to rub their arms in pain.

“Bloody hell, Ruth, you could have just asked us to come with you, that really wasn’t necessary,” Remus muttered as he got his own drink.

“Why is your grip that damn strong?” James pouted, whining like the little child that he is.

Sirius just smirked evilly, “I think we all know where she gets her practice with her grip.”

Naturally, I wasn’t going to have that, so I swatted him on the arm as if he was a fly, but then I decided that that just wasn’t enough, so I kicked him in the shin. Not too hard because I was feeling nice for some strange reason, but you get the idea. He then howled suspiciously like a dog, causing us all to give him strange looks that pretty much read dude what the fuck.

Sirius, then desperate to change the subject to literally anything else, went on to ask, “Ruth, are Snivellus and his mates supposed to be here? Because I don’t have a problem with physically throwing them out,” he shrugged.

I sighed, knowing my response wasn’t going to be immensely popular amongst the group. I muttered quietly, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, “I invited them.” As expected, I was met with outcries and protests from the cloud of testosterone surrounding me, such as but they’re such pricks and why would you want to infect your own party with the human equivalent of the goddamn plague, so I was quick to defend myself, “I didn’t want to! It’s just that Lily said that she wouldn’t go if I didn’t at least give Snivellus the option. But then I worried that he’d hang around Lily the whole time, and I wasn’t going to allow that, so I invited a couple of his friends too. I didn’t think they’d actually show up though,” I peered over Peter’s shoulder to observe him talking to Lily, grimacing at his choice of outfit if you could even call that monstrosity an outfit. I’d specified in the invites that you had to wear muggle ballgown-wear and you had to make it yourself using magic. I guess blood supremacists don’t even want to wear muggle-style clothes these days. They really are that shallow and it surprised me how Lily couldn’t see that.

Sirius huffed and made a comment that sounded like it should have come from James’s mouth instead of his, “Fine, but only because Lily is a treasure and I’m also terrified to death of her.” When he was met with blank stares for the second time in five minutes, he blushed furiously, only just clocking what he had just revealed.

I smirked at him, “Since when were you such good friends with my dear Lily?”

It was just a widely accepted fact that the girls weren’t huge fans of the boys, and while those attitudes weren’t reciprocated by the other side, it was practically unheard of for the girls to be anything more than civil with the boys. Well, only if you don’t count Lily and Remus’s strange friendship. I’d often promoted a union of sorts between my two friendship groups, holding out in my firm belief that some epic bonds could be formed if they just tried, but I was usually shot down with objections of but they’re arrogant toe rags. I think that that’s complete and utter bullshit but each to their own, I guess. I just carried on in the hope that one day they’d come round and see how silly they were being.

While James was appearing to have a mental breakdown right there and then, Sirius slowly explained, “Since a couple of weeks ago? I went down to the common room because I couldn’t sleep and I found Lily and she looked quite upset, so I asked her what was wrong, thinking she would just tell me to piss off or something, but she just burst into tears and she told me a lot of stuff that I won’t tell you because I think it’s private. Anyway, long story short, we had a rather profound conversation at two in the morning, followed by a couple of games of chess because neither of us wanted to go back to bed. We’ve had some rather thought-provoking conversations in Charms because we sit next to each other this year. She’s actually really cool.”

I grinned broadly at him, “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you for four whole years!” We then high-fived because why the fuck not. Remus gave us a look of wholehearted betrayal, which is understandable because he had been assisting me in my quest to get them to appreciate Lily properly, so I gave him a high-five too, and so did Sirius. Then Peter and James high-fived for no reason other than they were feeling left out, as they should be. So, we all looked like fucking crackheads already but that was to be expected of us.

“Anyway, just because Sniv is allowed to be here, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to fight him the second he does something fucked up, right?” Sirius asked.

“You and I both know you’ll fuck him up regardless of whether I allow it or not, so yes, yes you can. In fact, please do.”

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

By around midnight we were drunk off our asses in the Room of Requirement, the civilisation of the ball long gone. It was total carnage, although you probably worked that one out for yourself, but it wasn’t all bad seeing as my two friend groups don’t try to murder each other every five seconds when under the influence of my lovely friend alcohol. Most of us were sprawled out on various sofas, still in our ball attire, with Hunky Dory playing on my record player at a much lower volume because our drunk asses couldn’t deal with too much noise. I was lying on a sofa with my head in Marlene’s lap and my feet in Dorcas’s while James and Peter shared a sofa. Alice and Frank were, as I had predicted earlier on, making out in some darkened corner, thinking that they were being subtle because no one was gawping at them. In reality, the only reason we all refused to look was because they were being more than a bit gross and no one wanted to see that, to be frank. Pun absolutely intended. Dorcas didn’t drink because of her religion, which meant she was the only sober one in the room, and that meant it was her job to make sure we didn’t get ourselves killed or anything like that. Lily was actually a bit tipsy, but only due to Sirius’s incessant nagging that she was missing out on the finer things in life. I mean there were certainly finer things than knock-off elf wine we smuggled in from Hogsmeade, but Lily didn’t need to know that. Meanwhile, Sirius was stumbling on a table he’d conjured for this exact reason, wearing Marlene’s stiletto heels and ranting about society’s many problems as he usually did when drunk. Tonight’s topic was for discussion was feminism.

“But why is the world like this? We shouldn’t just accept it for how it is! Shouldn’t we try and change it or something?” he slurred, finishing his drink and promptly refilling it with his wand. Several amens could be heard from almost everyone in the room, as is what happened every time Sirius made a point. It was strongly reminiscent of the church service my mum would drag me along to from time to time.

“Sirius, not that I don’t agree with you, but maybe you should get down before you break your neck?” Lily suggested, looking at him in sheer terror.

He just pouted down at her, “I will only get down when the patriarchy falls, and you girls don’t have to live in fear of boys who have the audacity to call themselves men!”

“If a boy comes anywhere near me, I’ll just smack him round the face, I don’t give a shit,” I piped up, swinging my hand around as if I was actually punching someone, and coming very close to actually hitting Marlene in the face.

“That’s alright though because self-defence and shit,” James grinned at me, running over to clink his glass against mine, then running back to his sofa and sitting down as if nothing happened, leaving me confused, to say the least.

“Has anyone seen Remus?” Sirius suddenly changed the subject. When all he got in response was shrugs and confused looks, he started walking up and down the table like it was a catwalk, shouting, “Remus! Remus, where are you, you little shit? Remu-” he suddenly fell straight off of the table but stood up and brushed himself off as if he hadn’t just nearly died, “Reeeeeeemuuuuuuuus!”

“I think he’s with Idania. I don’t know where though,” Peter offered.

Marlene and I gave each other a knowing look and bumped arms, “I think we all know what they’re getting up to,” she raised an eyebrow at me suggestively.

“Ooooooh, Remus you saucy boy,” I snorted, making James cackle so much that he fell off of his chair and also making Lily fake-vomit so much that I was seriously expecting her to actually throw up right there and then.

I think it’s important to update you on the whole Idania-Remus situation. It’s been a tricky one, I won’t lie to you about that. They only started talking again a couple of days ago, making it nearly three weeks of silent treatment from both parties. Even I thought that that was a bit much, and we all know that I can be a dramatic little shit at the best of times. After copious amounts of persuasion from us, way more than would have been necessary if he wasn’t a stubborn bastard, a rather miserable Remus had finally apologised for some things he’d said in the heat of the argument that he hadn’t really meant. He didn’t disclose exactly what he’d said, but I have to be honest, I was just glad that he got over himself and talked to her because it was painful to sit behind them in History of Magic while they were being that damn ridiculous. Not only had he said that he was sorry, but he’d wanted to do something for her to show her how sorry he was. He’d done some research, which meant he’d spent twelve hours straight in the library. James, forever the mother hen of the group, was far from pleased to find out that he’d missed two whole meals, so naturally, that had led to him lecturing poor Remus on the importance of eating properly. He argued that that it doesn’t matter that it’s for love, you need to eat, for Merlin’s sake, which was saying something when you remember how James was a closeted romantic himself. He’d eventually found a spell that was a variant on the translation spells Peter was rather fond of for uncomplicated pranks. Usually with those spells, you speak whatever you mean to say in English, but when it comes out, everyone hears the language you’re cursed to speak. This one, however, worked with sign language; he would say what he wanted to say, and his hands would automatically sign what he’s saying. It didn’t solve everything, he still had to keep studying the language so he could understand Idania, but it was a sure start, and a massive help for the both of them. According to Remus when he’d returned to tell us how it went, she’d been so grateful that she’d almost started crying, though she denied it every time we asked her about it.

While I had been simultaneously amusing and horrifying my friends with mental images of Remus doing unholy things, Sirius had been on a mission to find him, and seemed to have returned triumphant. At some point, he must have left the room even though I had no memory of seeing him leave, as he was now dragging Remus behind him by the hand, who was dragging Idania somewhat gentler. “I found them!” he proclaimed with a stupid grin on his face, in a way similar to how a child would announce such a thing.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock,” Peter muttered with no actual malice behind his words.

“You’re welcome, Pete,” Sirius bowed but then stumbled forwards, crashing headfirst onto the ground. He didn’t bother getting up, choosing to sit cross-legged on the floor once he got his bearings.

Lily plonked herself down next to him and gazed at him quizzically, “Why are you saying, ‘you’re welcome’, when you’re the one who wanted to know where they were?”

He covered her mouth with his hand to prevent her from speaking, “Shhh, Lily-flower, shhh.”

She scowled at him while Marlene mouthed ‘Lily-flower’ at me in confusion. I just shrugged, desperately trying not to laugh at James who was clearly dying of embarrassment while trying to hide from Lily. We once heard him murmur the nickname in his sleep during our second year, and even though he hasn’t said it since, we refused to let him forget it. Lily must have licked Sirius’s hand or something for he retracted his hand as quickly as he would if he’d had an electric shock, wiping it on his trousers while staring at her in disgust and betrayal. Lily didn’t show an inch of sympathy towards his pain.

“So, what were you two actually doing?” Dorcas asked, directing the conversation back to Idania and Remus.

Idania smirked evilly and looked up at Remus, looking awfully glad that she didn’t have to be the one to explain. I still thought they hooked up finally, but Remus didn’t look nearly as mortified as I imagined he would.

Remus opened his mouth to speak but Lily cut him off, “I can smell weed.”

“How the fuck do you of all people know what weed smells like?” I laughed.

She glared at me in a way that had me quaking in my heels, “Please, you know what Cokeworth’s like, so you can trust me when I say I know what weed smells like.” I had to give it to her, that town wasn’t exactly the poshest in the UK, and I would know seeing as I used to live in the damn place.

We locked eyes for a second, then slowly looked up at Remus and Idania’s slightly guilty but overall chilled-out faces.

Well shit.

Once it clicked in my head as to what they had been doing, I started giggling uncontrollably for a good minute, and everyone else started looking at me really worriedly. I can’t say I blamed them if I’m honest, I did look like something of a lunatic. I quickly put the spell that Remus had found on myself, suddenly feeling really bad that Idania probably didn’t have much of an idea of what had just been said.

“Idania, how dare you corrupt our sweet, innocent Remus?” I laughed, shaking my head like a disapproving parent.

“Excuse you, Remus hasn’t been innocent since before he met us,” James grinned lopsidedly.

“I wasn’t that innocent before I met you,” the boy in question tried to defend himself, only to be met with about seven people saying, ‘you were’.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point. The point is you smoked weed?” I asked incredulously.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he said, “It’s not that big of a deal, no one really cares about that kind of thing these days, well not in the muggle world at least. Live a little, Ruth.”

“That doesn’t make it any less weird that it’s coming from you, mate,” James shook his head.

“But here’s the question nobody else is brave enough to ask, apparently,” Marlene raised a finger and then pointed it at the couple, “Is it nice? And if so, may we have some?”

Most of us, excluding Dorcas and Lily, made some sort of noise of agreement to which Remus just laughed, “Well, it’s Idania’s, not mine, so it’s up to her really…” he trailed off, leaving his girlfriend to make up her mind.

I didn’t actually know much sign language, except for the odd word or phrase I’d picked up (naturally fuck off was on of them), but whatever Idania had signed in response put a devilish smirk on Remus’s face that was all too familiar, “I think that’s a yes, just not too much. Ida doesn’t think you’ll be able to handle it.” The girl in question lightly breathed through her nose, which I’d come to learn was her laugh.

I gaped at her with mock outrage on my face, “I am offended but at least I’ll get to try some, right?”

A couple of blunts went round during the next however long we were high for, while Lily and, to some extent, Dorcas looked on disapprovingly. I think it’s safe to say that the concept of time was non-existent for the rest of the night. I have to say it was one of the most relaxing yet insane experiences I’ve ever had, and it wasn’t long until long after it had worn off did I start to wonder how Idania had access to that kind of thing. She must have been even more of a badass than we first thought.

When I had first started holding parties like these last year, I had made an offer to Dorcas which had involved me making drinks that had no alcohol in them but still had the same effect. She’d been grateful for the suggestion, but she’d pointed out that doing that kind of defeats the whole point of not drinking alcohol in the first place. We’d then settled on making non-alcoholic drinks that still tasted like their alcoholic counterparts but had no effect whatsoever, and we were constantly trying different recipes. Word caught soon after we started, and our non-alcoholic drinks were in almost as high demand as the alcoholic black market I’d created with the boys. They proved to be popular among students who either didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to drink, but didn’t want to miss out on a party or something like that, as well as older students who needed a form of stress relief from their exams, but didn’t want to develop some kind of addiction. I couldn’t blame them, seeing as they used to drink a lot as a really unhealthy coping mechanism. I’d much rather they drink something else, so I was glad to have been of service. As you can imagine, the business really boomed around springtime.

“You know, trying to keep track of you all is like herding a load of cats,” she huffed, taking a sip of her not-quite-firewhiskey.

“Hey, Dorcas,” I mumbled in the most serious voice I could muster, which was quite the feat considering I was both drunk and high at that point. She leaned in to listen, only to hear me say, “Meow.”

Her brows furrowed sceptically, “Meow?”

I nodded, not breaking my composure though I desperately wanted to just dissolve into giggles like a child, “Meow. Because you said we’re cats.”

Dorcas sighed with a resigned look on her face,” Sure, Ari.”

A chorus of meows sounded throughout the room, much to Dorcas’s confusion and exasperation. I could only imagine what it must be like to have to deal with all of us unaided when we were like this.

A/N: By the way, I’m not trying to promote the use of drugs, personally I think things like marijuana should be decriminalised but that’s a story for another day. Just to remind you, this is set in 1975 at the moment, which means that drugs were more common, and more people did things like weed. It makes more sense when you consider the context. Also, they’re only human, shit like this happens.

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