#they all should be just entering young adult territory

[pasteilian]

How long after the Kraang invasion does your au take place?

2/3 years after all the brothers should be around 19/18/17

[lalunanymph]

BLACKMAIL KISS — h. ran

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a single night of rebellion against your husband, the mayor of Tokyo, in an underground Roppongi club, traps you right in Haitani Ran's web of blackmail and deceit—where every move you make could potentially be your last one.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a bonten!haitani ran miniseries inspired by hametsu no itte

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bonten timeline, fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is feminine coded (wears dresses, heels, makeup), heavy tones of cheating/infidelity, DARK CONTENT, blackmail, political drama, non-con recording, drugging, mentions of cigarettes, mentions of alcohol & drugs, edging training, tease and denial, orgasm control, phone sex, petnames (princess, good girl, whore, slut), coercion, reader is forced to take nudes, HEAVY TOPICS PROCEED WITH CAUTION

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bittersweet blackmail with this playlist

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── masterlist

#1: i made another mistake

As a child, growing up with any lack of good direction or faith gave Haitani Ran an almost scary sixth sense when a person was completely foreign to his world of sin and greed. 

Ran liked to think it was also his entire adult life spent in Kanto Manji, and now, Bonten which helped him discern the different types of brokenness in this messed up world. 

It was a game he played with himself; observing the way some of them walked—an errant glance away or a quirk which would draw his sleepy-sharp lilac eyes to their floundering presence. He could almost always tell which girls in his club were the runaways. The druggies. The ones with abusive boyfriends. Sometimes, he liked to make a bet with his brother, Rindou, and see which one of them could get close enough—fast enough—to fuck the truth out of these crummy girls. 

But, in all fairness, Ran’s game must be growing weak because the woman who had just entered his club was a complete enigma. 

The taste of Hennesy was strong on his tongue; his hand clawing the warming glass with an uncharacteristic tension. Mikey had just expressed his suspicions of a mole in the organisation this afternoon, and Ran was on edge from figuring out which of the newly onboarded goons seemed the most suspicious. 

In his heightened state of paranoia, he couldn’t be faulted for immediately spotting you from his perch in the VIP room the very second you stepped in. 

Neatly styled hair, with press on nails clutching a small Balenciaga bag to your chest. A dress which fitted you perfectly and looked to be cut from a designer’s hand. 

You definitely weren't the usual type of girl who swam with the sharks in these tanks. And so, the infamous older Haitani brother called over one of his men, nodding in your direction. “Keep an eye on the prissy one. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

His bodyguard bowed, exiting down to keep an eye on this suspicious young woman who had caught his underboss’ attention. Ran lit up a cigarette, wishing he had something stronger with him besides menthol sticks when he noticed you crossing paths with someone in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes were quick to catch it. 

A cordial nod. Something passed in a tiny ziplock bag into your hand. 

Your smile which fractured a bouncing neon light across your surprisingly white teeth.  

Ran immediately stood up, cigarette clenched between his teeth. Maybe this kind of attitude would cut it in other territories, but the King of Roppongi would never allow such an offence right under his nose. The people of this neonscape should only be taking meth from his supplies and his supplies only. 

This could result in a potential gang war once word leaks out. 

Ran took matters into his own hands, stubbing out his cigarette, beckoning another guard to him. 

“Bring her up,” he pointed towards you. “And tell her the boss of the club wants to meet her up here for drinks. But, don’t scare her. I don’t want too much trouble tonight.” 

The goon nodded, marching out of the room. Ran pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it firmly. Already, he could hear your protests coming up the stairs, and mentally braced himself to thoroughly search you. This was going to be a long night. 

“—I’m innocent!” 

“He just wants to have drinks with you, miss.”

“But, I can order it downstairs—” 

“—just for a minute, miss—”

“I have a husband—” 

Feisty. Ran was intrigued by your fire. Without warning, he stood up and pried the VIP door open, stumbling you into a halt mid-tirade. After years of honing his charisma and working on his natural good looks, Ran sensed more than knew when a woman was succumbing to his charms. Their wide eyes would inevitably look him up and down, like you did, lingering on his broad chest, the slicked-back lilac hair. The piercing purple gaze and the sharp, handsome lines of his face.

He plastered on his most charming smile. “You must be the woman who has captured my attention. Please—join me for a drink.” His presence was dazzling, like a Venus Flytrap opening up boldly and brightly to seduce its bug-eyed prey before devouring them. 

You were taken by the hand, deep into the heart of Roppongi’s most notorious club. Like entering a lion’s den, you didn’t know where to look first—the seedy velvet couches, the lines of white still dotting the glass tables, or the sight of empty gun holsters upturned carelessly on the cushion seats. 

Ran sensed your increasing panic and slung a long arm around your shoulder, drawing you deeper into his side. “Don’t be afraid,” he grinned, all sharp knives for teeth and false promises. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you here. I promise.” You looked like you didn’t believe him, not for one second, and Ran rushed forward to introduce himself, playing the part of the flustered club owner who was enamoured by you. 

“My name is Haitani. Ran Haitani. I couldn’t help but notice someone like you entering my club and I just had to know you.” 

“Why?” you were sceptical. Disbelieving. 

Ran hummed. From the corner of his eye, his bodyguard was tapping away on his screen, pretending to look bored when everyone in the room knew he had the most important job of all. It wasn’t hard to coax you into the velvet seat—you looked like you would bolt at any second, but at the mention of gin on the house, you visibly relaxed. 

There was a look to you that was familiar, Ran decided. You had a face someone would’ve seen somewhere in magazines. Pretty, but not pretentious. Just conventionally attractive enough to hold his eye but not to indulge in it. Someone like a Chief of Justice’s wife, or a President’s mistress. Maybe he shouldn’t think so lowly of your position just because you were here—you could’ve been a CEO of your own company, except most girl bosses he knew would be asleep at this time of the night to prepare for another day in their obnoxious offices. 

You sipped on a glass, careful to keep a distance from him. Ran noticed your lips never fully touched the glass rim, like you had practised all of your life to not leave a mark anywhere you went. 

Most definitely someone related to a politician. His mind was racing, sifting through the sudden wickedness arising in his putrid thoughts.

A daddy’s girl turned rebellious. A trust fund granddaughter looking to blow off steam. 

Something about you was familiar. And, you had mentioned a husband. 

Ran pursed his lips, and he was about to straight up ask you who you were, when his bodyguard passed him the phone he had been casually typing on. Those sleepy lilac eyes widened infinitesimally, his breathing stuttering.

He had seen your name before—it rang in the recesses of his memory.

But, that would mean…

Tsunake. Tsunake Y/N. 

It seemed like fate decided to extend a kind hand the years he spent trying to avenge his one and only best friend. 

Ran’s grin became predatory—tinged with a hint of excitement. 

“So… what’s the mayor’s wife doing in this part of the town?” 

Having blown your cover off, Ran was left with your comically alarmed expression. You nervously set your glass down, tittering through tight, red lips. “What makes you think I have a reason to be here?” 

Without warning, he slung his arm around your waist. It happened too fast—fading into a blur. One second, you thought he was going to force himself on you, and before you could even scream, this mysterious man had managed to flip open your purse and pry out the ziplock pouch of drugs. 

“H-hey—!”

“Ecstasy,” Ran pried open the bag, taking one sniff of the contents. “Mixed with a little bit of molly. Are you looking to have a cardiac arrest tonight, Princess?” 

You bristled, baring your teeth. Despite being filled with two glasses of gin, you were surprisingly still sprightly on your feet. “Give that back,” you muttered hotly, glaring daggers into his skull. “It’s none of your fucking business what I take—you have no right to search me like that.” 

“Oh, but I do.” Standing to his full height, Ran resisted smirking when you flinched and took a step back, bowed by his sheer size that towered over you. “I’m the owner of this club, sweetheart, and thanks to your stupidity, I now have you recorded through CCTVs picking up a trade on the dancefloor. I’m sure your husband—the Mayor of Tokyo—would hate to see pictures of his sweet wife blowing up in the tabloids in the middle of a buyoff, would he?” 

The fire in your eyes dimmed, and if it was possible, even your diamond earrings dangling from your lobes lost their lustre. “You… how did you know?” 

Ran shrugged. “I know a lot of things.” 

A snarl decorated your blush red lips. “Are you blackmailing me?” 

This time, Ran couldn’t help but grin. “You catch on fast.” 

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, your withering gaze alternated between faux contempt and dread. Your mind worked quickly, Ran observed. Those pretty eyes darted back and forth, between the languid stances of his men trained to lunge at your throat in a moment’s notice, to the gangly, smug man who held your reputation in his depraved hands. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

You expected him to list off money and favours, not to snort and say, “What do you think I would want?” 

“If it’s money you’re looking for, you won’t find it with me. My husband is not the generous kind,” you argued back hotly. 

“Pass. Not what I had in mind.”

You wracked your brain. “I don’t have many connections outside of my home. I can’t give you political leverage and my husband doesn’t listen to me.” Your hands were beginning to sweat, hoping with all your might he bought your shoddy lie. Ran appeared like he didn’t.

“Come on. A husband who doesn't listen to his wife? Impossible.” 

Sauntering towards you, his grin was a cocky curve standing out from the garish neon lights. Those half-mast eyes held a surprising gleam of reprehensible intent when they bore straight into your wide ones. “You’re lying to me. I bet you had to sneak out of your own castle to get here, Princess.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You bit down on your tongue to avoid blurting out those incriminating words. “I told you. I don’t have the kind of power and influence you’re looking for.” 

“Well,” Ran tilted his head to the side. “Seems like we’re at an impasse here. But, no matter. I’ve learned a lot in this life, Princess. And one thing that I can’t deny? How someone’s hand can move their own fate if they tried hard enough… or, they’re given a big enough shitstorm to wade through.”

You almost asked him what he meant when he pressed a hand onto your bare waist. The cold from his silver rings seeped into your skin, and you would’ve jerked backwards into the wall if it wasn’t for his grip tightening around you. 

“Easy,” Ran murmured, pinning those heavy eyes onto you. He looked like he would’ve nodded off to sleep if you hadn’t felt the steel in his grip—how easily he could overpower you. “I’m not here to hurt you. I want you to trust me.” 

Trust him? You almost spat back how stupid that idea was when he was steering you back to the velvet couches. Passing you a drink, he pressed it firmly into your hand with more force than necessary, and you sensed that you had no choice in refusing his offer. 

Ran tipped his glass to clink yours, downing his gin and tonic in one go. You tentatively sipped on yours, wincing at the alcohol burn when it went down. The music changed, and without much reason why, the room felt more at ease. Those guards went back to their corners, playing poker, talking loudly, laughing rowdily. None of them were paying you two any attention, and even the lights felt warmer somehow. More welcoming. 

You felt pleasantly sleepy, and Ran took your glass before it could spill onto the carpeted ground. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mhm, tired,” you slurred, slumping forward to rest your head on his shoulder. He smelled nice—like warmed vanilla bourbon on a rainy day. “I dunno why. I think I need to… to close my eyes…” 

You had no idea how you ended up in his lap. Why his lips were on yours, tongue slowly tangling with yours in the deepest kiss of your life. You tasted the gin he downed, skin and something musky which reminded you of sweaty bodies writhing together. It made you wet; made you gasp into his mouth which heatedly spilled hoarse praises right down your throat. You were gripping his hair, his shoulders, his jacket. Trying to find an anchor to the sensations threatening to drag you under. 

Ran kissed down your neck, sucking and mouthing on the skin hard enough that you could feel throbbing marks left behind.

“Can I touch you?” he breathed into the shell of your ear. You had no idea what compelled you to nod, but the second you did, his hand was between your legs, prying the seat of your thong aside.

He cursed under his breath when he felt how slick you were; how your folds were all glistening and ready just for him. 

You started to rock your hips needily, little whimpers trickling past your clenched teeth. “Ran… Ran…” 

His name sounded like a chime—a mantra you repeated over and over again as your thighs shook and your head lolled back. His slender, nimble fingers were too good. They were made for edging a girl right to a cresting orgasm; those cold rings touching your heated flesh left goosebumps at their wake, the contrasting sensations enough to make you even dizzier.

“Ran—” you cried out, back arching and clutching his hair in your death grip. He kissed the rise of your chest, sticky and glittering with sweat.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, hooking his finger against a tender spot inside of you which made your hips twitch—a minute tick signalling your desperation. “Let go for me, Princess.” 

Every fibre of your being held no resistance; falling for his silky command. You remembered the searing heat, the tears beading on your lash line, how your hips were rocking to his mesmerising fingers which bullied more pleasure into your wrecked body. 

Ran kissed you deeply while you came all over his fingers, your sobs and gasps reverberating around the strangely still room. 

The last thing you heard was his voice in your ear, asking if he should call you a cab, and the next, your eyelids fluttered shut, the entire world going black. 

You felt more than heard someone coming into a room. 

Blinking your eyes awake, a weight settled at the foot of a soft bed, shirtless except for a pair of boxers clinging around his narrow hips. Silvery pale moonlight brushed strokes of pearlescent streaks on his inked torso, and slowly, the half-body of a dragon was coming into focus. Rushing to your senses, you gasped, sitting up, patting every inch of your body only to find you were still in your sparkly dress from last night.

“Morning, sunshine,” Ran mused, turning towards you with a cheeky grin on his handsome face. In your throes of deciphering the tattoos on his torso, you hadn’t noticed the ink at the base of his throat—a geometrical design which looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you had seen it before. 

“Where am I?” your hoarse voice sounded crass even to your own ears. You cleared your throat, and he passed you a glass of water by his bedside table. 

“My penthouse,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious answer. “I took you home after you passed out on top of me.”  

Blinking, you set the glass down. A crawling sensation was growing in the back of your throat, slithering down your belly and settling right in the base of your body frozen to this bed. You glanced at the doors, windows and crevices of this room, looking for a place to hide—to run. 

You had no idea what this man could want with you, but you sensed it was nothing good. 

As if he could read your uneasy thoughts, Ran chuckled. “I’m not here to hurt you. After all, I already got what I wanted from you.” 

Before you could prod deeper, Ran pulled up his phone, tapping on the screen. A grainy video of you straddling his lap while he kissed you with feverish lust came up, and you watched, struck with horror as your entire body fell apart for him, crying out his name with your toes curled in the periphery and back arched. All while you were already married to another man.

“No—” you swiped at the phone and he held it back, standing up tall and dangling it over your head. 

Tears streaked down your face, joined with snot and a cacophony of your bitter protests. “Please, don’t do this!” 

Your bleats barely phased him; after all, Ran Haitani was a man who had many begging at his feet to spare them or give them their sanity back. “No.”

The word devastated you, and you swore you felt your soul break into two. If word of this ever reached back to your husband…

District elections were just around the corner and your husband’s record had to be spotless. Any word of your actions tonight in the club, or even a whiff of your involvement with a man such as Ran, would ruin the airtight politically perfect reputation he had. 

I have to protect him. You tried to make a grab for the phone again, but Ran jerked it away, shark-like grin growing wider, amused by this little game you two were playing. 

“Ran, please—”

“I won’t tell him,” the bastard promised, a purple cowlick falling against his smooth forehead. Those neatly plucked brows furrowed together, and you could sense a ‘but’ somewhere behind his false reassurances. “But—I want you to do something for me.”

Here it was. In your mind, you pictured bribes. judging from his gang tattoo—shipments of drugs. A place to hide dead bodies. 

You never expected what he would’ve said next. 

“I want you to try and stop your husband from raiding our warehouses.” 

Stupefied, your shoulders slumped forward. Tears beaded in your lash line. “How do you expect me to do that? I told you, he doesn’t listen to me—”

“Mayor Tsunake is a reasonable man,” Ran eyed you down the length of his nose. “Don’t you think so, Mrs. Tsunake?” 

The sound of your married name coming from his rancid lips made you want to hurtle a fist right into his smug face. But, you sensed more than knew that Ran was a fucked up man in a position of high power—any sign of your rebellion will be met with consequences you couldn’t begin to fathom. 

You eyed the tattoo on his neck again. “I can’t make that promise. I’m sorry,” you added, hoping he would let you go and forget about this entire night. All you wanted to do was head back home, ransack your alcohol supply and drink the memories of this horrible meeting away. Maybe you were locked in a dream—tucked safely in your Queen-sized bed while your imagination presented you with your worst nightmare. 

But, this was more than just a figment of your nighttime terrors. Ran was real. This shitstorm you were in was real. 

And it was waiting for you to step into its eye. 

You swallowed. “What else do you want?” 

Ran’s smirk tightened around the edges. “Good girl. I knew you would see reason.” Putting his phone down on the bed, he patted the edge, asking you without words to sit next to him. The mattress sank under both of your weight, and you kept a distance from him, jaw tight and fists balled on your lap.

One heavily ringed hand reached towards you, and you tried not to flinch when he gently patted your cheek. 

“I want you to make yourself available to me. I’ve slept with plenty of women before, but never a mayor’s wife. It’s thrilling—this joy of trying not to get caught.” Those nimble fingers formed a loose cage around your throat, flexing them as if he were taken by a sudden, raunchy memory. “You were such a little slut in the club,” he crooned. “I want to push you harder—see what you’re capable of. All while you don’t let Mr. Mayor himself hear a peep from our little agreement, hmm?” 

Heat soused down your spine, dusting your cheeks. I’m dreaming. You were in a complete daze. I must be dreaming because this isn’t real. 

“Why are you doing this?” was all you could whisper, trying not to lapse into a tearful rage; your roaring emotions held behind a glass wall. You felt like the entire world could smell your shame—judge your stupidity. 

Ran moved his hand down the column of your throat, skimming just above the rise of your left breast. He palmed it without a single word, satisfied how you squirmed in distress but didn’t make a move to stop his groping. Fondling the plump flesh, he squeezed it, flickering those lackadaisical lilac eyes to your mortified expression.

“Why?” He asked nonchalantly, slowly playing with your stiffening nipple underneath the flimsy silk and lace. The sharp edge of his thumb nail dragged along the perky bud, and he flicked it once, as if reprimanding your instant arousal. You flinched, soft gasp echoing around the spacious room, and his grin widened.

“Well, why not?” 

Waking up alone in your large mansion, your entire body felt too heavy. 

After the events of last night, you had stumbled back home, tiptoeing past the maids’ rooms, careful to not wake anyone before you succumbed to your deluge of raging sobs.

You must’ve fallen asleep sometime in the middle of your temper tantrum. 

The space beside you was empty, and Makko must’ve still been out with his entire PR team, strategizing his winning message to blaze through campaign season. You barely noticed his absence last night—who would’ve thought a single excursion out to relieve your tension of being the perfect political wife resulted in your ensnaring tanglement with a dangerous, dark man.

Picking up your phone, you squinted at the sudden bright light on the screen, finding an unknown message. 

It was an attachment, and you dread pooled deep in your belly when you read the text.

Until next time — H.R 

Tapping open the picture, you nearly choked on your spit when you noticed your thong peeking through his clenched fist which was casually resting on the half of his inked chest. Your eyes burned as they scanned through the dips and divots of his muscles, and your throat ran dry, remembering how he had moved your body in ways you hadn’t expected a stranger could.

It was like he knew you—knew what you liked and what you wanted.

Without warning, his next text chimed in. 

Are you awake? 

He was waiting for an answer.

Heart in your throat, you texted back. 

Yes, I am. 

His reply came a second later. Good. Take off your clothes if you’re wearing any and lay back in bed. 

Glancing at your modest cotton nightgown, you felt a shiver run down your spine which had nothing to do with the wind-free AC humming above you. 

Why?

His answer was instantaneous.

Why not? Or did you forget our agreement? 

The video. He was dangling it over your head like your deepest scarlet letter—goading you to deny him so he could make your marriage and husband’s career burn. It was with this single note of love towards the man whose ring was on your finger that you followed his instructions. 

Once you were naked and lying back on your bed, you texted him a terse: 

I did what you asked. 

Send a picture. 

The humiliation could’ve skinned you alive, but you complied. Angling your phone high up so your face was cut off, you snapped a picture of your bare body and sent it to another man who wasn’t your husband as you were perched right on your marital bed, fighting back the urge to find that bastard and kick him right in the balls. 

Ran replied a second later.

Good girl. I’m going to call you now.

Without another second to spare, your phone vibrated.

You quickly grabbed your wireless buds, slotting them into your ears and pressed answer. 

“Those sheets look comfortable,” he hummed, as a way of greeting. Your sour silence made him laugh. “Oh, lighten up. At least look a little happy. I did give you a huge orgasm last night.” 

Ran was shirtless, the dips of his collarbones gleaming in the low light of what appeared to be his bedroom—the tattoo on his throat strikingly dark and haunting. His duvet was a downy white colour, the pillows under his head plush and inviting. 

You spared a glance at your locked door before flitting your gaze back to his half-mast purple eyes. “What do you want?” 

Ran hummed. “Is your husband there?” 

Your brow furrowed, and he had his answer. 

“Angle the camera to your pussy. Show me how you touch yourself.” Your minute hesitation earned you a hard glare. “Now, Y/N. Or, yesterday night’s video will be in the mayor’s inbox in less than 5 minutes.” 

The tattoo gleaming from his throat made you shiver, and you hastened to follow his orders. Lifting your phone and balancing it on your sternum, you aimed the camera right between your legs, thighs still chastely clasped together. 

“Good girl,” he purred. “Now, spread your folds. Touch yourself.”

You obeyed him, like a puppet to a demented master—you touched yourself for Haitani Ran to enjoy, your forced submission a feast which he devoured upon. Ran’s breathing grew heavier from the other end of the line, and you heard the hitch in his groan when you parted your slick folds, showing off the strands of arousal webbing in between your middle and index fingers.

“Taste yourself.” 

Your cheeks burned, and humiliation once again trampled all over your common sense to put a stop to this. In a sick, twisted way, the pain of not having control over your own body—your own reactions—was downright heady. 

A blissful buzz hummed in your mind, and you barely gave another lucid thought before your fingers were stuck down your throat, lapping at your own sweet and salty nectar. Ran couldn’t see you deepthroating your own digits, but he heard the soft squelch of your tongue and mouth. 

“Fuck—touch yourself again.” 

His command was met with little resistance. You rubbed your clit, mouth falling open, your soft pants filling the space of this luscious bedroom. 

“Are you close?” Ran’s husky voice filled your ears, and you suddenly came to the realisation of how pleasant his voice sounded. Not too brash or low. Just the right amount of husky and baritone.

“Mhm,” you murmured. So far, you hadn’t moaned or mewled—too stubborn to let yourself admit to your body’s baser needs and how Ran was adeptly pleasuring you, even when he was far away. You kept your teeth clamped onto your lower lip, only allowing yourself a few trembling breaths.

“I can see your hips twitching.” His voice was going to drive you insane. “Look at how hard those nipples are. They’re so aroused.” You glanced down at the buds straining in the cool air, and something about his casual observations on your body made your walls clench—sucking in your fingers deeper.

Without warning, a soft moan slipped past your clenched teeth.

Ran was quick to react—to swallow down on your shame. “What was that? Is the little slut getting turned on from this? That’s pathetic. I’m not even touching you.” He continued with his parade of casual cruelty, making you feel both small and desirable. “Come on. Moan for me again. You can show me you’re a whore again, yeah?”

What is wrong with me? It was like you had zero control over yourself; your body was responding to such blatant degradation—nipples circling and hips twitching. You could taste your orgasm in the back of your throat. 

“Mhm!” you cried out, glad he wasn’t here to see your mouth falling further open, or the saliva pooling down the corner of your lips. “S-Shit…” 

Your hips had a life of their own; they swirled, twitched and pushed against your furious fingers, pumping to try and take you down your high. You’ve never squirmed this badly for a man—never shamelessly moaned for him to release you from ecstasy’s hostage. 

“Please,” you gasped out. Ran chuckled softly. “I-I need—”

“No,” his voice, silky smooth, was deceptively drenched with pity. “You can’t come, baby. You know I won’t give you that so easily. Stop touching.” 

Your fingers couldn't seem to cooperate. Your whine was saturated with absolute need. “Wh-why? Please…” 

“No. Stop right now or I’ll release the video.” 

That threat was enough to throw cold water on your arousal, and you immediately ripped your hand away from your thighs, crying out softly in protest and embarrassment. Ran was quiet as your pants turned into ragged breaths, your thighs twitching like someone was running aftershocks through your veins.

“Turn the camera back to your face.”

You knew better than to disobey him. The second the front camera switched on, you almost flinched in shock. Your eyes were red-rimmed, like you had been crying—they were wide and glossy, not a hint of defensiveness in them. It was like Ran had stripped you free of your prickliness, leaving you in a ball of your own vulnerability. The shame and hormones coasting in your system left your cheeks flushed and mouth wet with spit.

You looked like a woman who had been purely ravaged, all desperate and teary.

Ran, in contrast, barely had a hair out of place. He still wore that same easy smirk, though the apples of his cheeks were a bit pinker than you recalled. 

“Go and take a picture of yourself and send it to me. I’ll be waiting, Y/N.” He didn’t give you a chance to protest, clicking the call off and leaving you stewing in your thoughts.

Your mind was on overdrive, the tips of your fingers tingling. Ran must’ve given you a choice to send in the picture when he left you alone to your devices; as a way for him to gauge how serious you took his threat. 

The burning shame pooled in the back of your eyelids, and you let your head fall back into the pillows, exhaling a hitched breath that sounded almost like a sob.

Why is he doing this? What does he want? 

Ran had taken your body through the wringer; testing both your patience and determination to protect your husband’s reputation at the expense of your sanity. 

But, was it worth it? 

The ticking clock on your wall counted down your minutes of procrastination. Ran had never mentioned when he expected you to send in the picture—did he want it now? A spike of anxiety clobbered your chest. Oh god, what if he had been expecting it a few minutes ago and was already about to send the video of you grinding on his fingers to your poor, loyal husband? 

Quickly, you sprang to your feet, ignoring the throb of neglect between your thighs to pose in front of the mirror. The morning sun splayed itself across your bare stomach, speckling across your chest and arms. In this angle, you were an erotic painting come to life; the spark of desire you felt had dimmed after all these years of being the steadfast, politically stable wife was flickering back up into a small flame, deep within your chest.

What is happening to me? Your thoughts were in a spiral as you angled your body, showing off your shapeliness and the feminine submissiveness dripping down your thighs. Am I going insane? 

You snapped one photo. Then two, for good measure. You kept your face hidden by your phone, smartly avoiding any chance of recognition. 

Tapping on the screen, you sent the photos to his number, praying he wouldn’t ask you for more—to push yourself further for his sick, pervasive delight. But, your hopes were dashed when he replied a second later, with a string of terse instructions. 

I want your face in them, Y/N. Kneel on the bed and spread your thighs. Take a higher angled photo so your face is in it. Do not disappoint me again. 

Unbidden, you felt like shards of glass were stabbing your soul.

Do not disappoint me again.

If your shame could be seen, it would be curling its shoulders into itself—whether out of self-preservation or despondency, you dared not uncover. 

But, you followed his instructions clearly. The photo came out better than you hoped for. Your flushed folds were the centre of attention, your fleshy clit fully out in the open as a reminder of your denied orgasm pulsing through you. 

Your expression, however, was the one which took you completely by surprise. There was open want in the curve of your brow, how your lips parted to reveal a glossy ring of spit. Shame and desperation shone from your eyes, giving you a coquette look which you hadn’t expected to see from a woman of your age. 

You wanted to touch yourself—hoped he would be kind enough to give you your release when he saw that you were trying. You were trying to be good for Ran; you were trying to follow his orders the best you could.

His response came a second later.

Good girl. I want you to repeat this again tomorrow. And again the day after. Deny yourself for me, and take a picture for me every time you do. Don’t cum until I give you permission to. 

Dread coursed through your veins, heady and pure. Did he expect you to never experience pleasure? What about if your husband fucked you and you accidentally came? The horror solidified in your stomach like a cold, festering fist. It was impossible to do this to you—to control you so harshly when your life was never his to own in the first place. 

Anger came next—coarse and bitter. Who did Haitani Ran think he was to blackmail and push you around? You were the mayor’s wife. You could get a cop on his ass faster than anyone in the district could. If you wanted to destroy his life, all you could do was lift a finger and it would be done.

But, as if he could read your mind, his response came in, timely and concise. 

I would advise you to not let anyone know you’re fucking a Bonten executive. It won’t look good for your husband’s records. 

Bonten. The fear crested, taking you down under. You dropped your phone onto the bed, slapping a palm to your mouth. 

Bonten. No wonder the tattoo under his neck was familiar—you had seen it before in your husband’s civil report, under the tab Illegal establishments: Yakuzas. 

Bonten. 

Japan’s most feared organised crime syndicate. 

A ruthless band of unknown men who controlled the vast underworld with a tight, iron fist. This is bad, you started to heave, the panic clamping down on your throat. This is really, really bad. 

Before you could spiral into your mind and start panicking, your screen flashed with another message, this one solidifying how utterly fucked your situation was; how you had unwittingly ruined your own life in one single, careless night. 

Don’t forget that your orgasms belong to me now, slut. This is our little secret now. 

Shit. 

Shit. 

Just what exactly had you gotten yourself into? 

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy the concept, sentence structures and scenes without prior permission from the creator.

[trickbxbes]

𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫: [𝗖𝗵𝗽 𝟭] 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗼

Summary: Drowning in your father's debt, it didn't seem like there was a way out. Until a suited man offers you a lifesaver. But you soon realize it's nothing of the sort, but neither is your life on the outside. Stuck between two evils, which will you choose?

Warnings: Reader is an exotic dancer, violence, death, the usual Squid Game territory stuff, slowburn,

Word Count: 2,360

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          You’re greeted with the distasteful scent of old rainwater and garbage as you enter an alleyway. You carefully pull your jacket closer to your body. Your nerves were on fire. That terrible anxiety that you couldn’t ignore, as this was your survival instinct. You gulp, clutching your purse tightly. 

“Ah, there she is!” 

A male enters the alley from behind you, making you turn and look. There was not one, but two men. The sound of pebbles being crushed under footsteps made you look to the other exit in the alleyway. Two more men approached, having you surrounded. You didn’t flee, recognizing them and knowing what they were here for. The first man gestures ahead at you. “Not polite to leave a girl waiting, we know.” 

You adjust your posture, feigning confidence. 

“I didn’t mind.”

You remain still as the four men surround you, waiting. The main man holds his hand out expectantly. “Now, you gonna make this easy on us? Hm?” 

Without another word, you take out a stack of cash from your bag and place it in his hands. The man scoffs, skimming through the thin paper to briefly count. He holds up the stack, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Where’s the rest?” 

That anxiety doubled in your gut, your skin crawling. With a dry mouth, you say, 

“T-that’s all I have right now.” 

The man sighs, handing the cash to his associate. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“This is even less than last time.” You’re quick to defend yourself.

 “I-It was a slow week at Jenny’s. But we’re hosting a big birthday party next week, that’ll certainly bring in some well paying customers.” 

You take a shaky step back and are met with a mucky cement wall. The men close in, like a pride of lions stalking their prey. Your eyes dart about, trying to calculate a way to get out of this. It didn’t look like these men were going to listen though. The head man tilts his head, taking out a switchblade. You whimper slightly in fear, your heart dropping at the sight of silver. Two men grab your arms, keeping you still. You’re barely able to attempt to jerk free before you feel the cold blade on your cheek. 

“This isn’t even your problem, you know. Your deadbeat dad should be paying up, not you.” 

At the mere mention of your father in that form, you’re filled with anger. Your eyebrows furrow, your face contorted in rage. What the hell did these loan sharks know about you and your father? But your nerves were too high for you to act tough. 

“Look, I-I even came all the way out here to meet you. Just give me—“

“Hey!”

A new voice enters the fray. All of you look over to see a young adult man. He was tall, and had medium length black hair that reached his lower neck. He looks in between you and the men, and started to jog over. “Get the hell away from her!”

 His shouting was bound to draw the attention of more people, the goons harassing you knew that. They look to the man with their own displeasure. “We’ll see you soon.” That’s all you’re ended with before they leave. Despite them being gone, you didn’t feel the relief you were owed. You knew this was only a temporary release. You needed money, fast. 

“Are you okay?” 

The mysterious man asks you kindly. You look up into his dark eyes and force a smile. 

“Yeah, yeah! Thanks for that, hero.” 

You reply sweetly. He seemed surprised by the title and rubs the back of his neck. “I-It’s what anybody decent would’ve done.” He deflects the subject back to something more urgent. “Who were those guys? Did you know them?” 

If you were to explain the complexities of the truth, you’d probably overshare the boy to death. You didn’t have time for that. So instead, you come up with a quick lie. 

“I-I dunno. I think they were trying to mug me or something. Assholes.” You cross your arms. Thankfully, the man seemed to believe your claim. 

“Well… hopefully they’re gone now. Oh-! D-Do you want me to walk you to wherever you’re going?” 

Ah, a gentleman. As you’re about to speak, you feel a raindrop touch your cheek. You make a small noise of surprise, wiping the droplet and casting your eyes to the sky. The clouds were thick with dark gray. You smile nervously at the man. 

“Ah, no no, no need. I don’t wanna bother. I’m just headed back to the subway station and that’s right around the corner.” 

He visibly loosens up at your words, perhaps finding relief that you would be out of harm’s way sooner rather than later. 

“Ah, okay, okay. Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’d better get going now. But, thanks again.” 

You and the man go your separate ways, heading in opposite directions. You weren’t lying about the distance to the station, it really wasn’t far at all. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

           Eventually, you’d find yourself sitting down at a bench down below. The subway track was empty, almost like the venue itself. There were maybe four or five people lurking about. But three were walking away, while two men were sitting on a bench on the other side of the tracks. 

But just as you were about to take a second to actually breathe, you’re greeted by someone stopping right in front of you. 

A tall man wearing a suit held a briefcase while staring down at you, an empty but somehow friendly smile on his face. 

“Hello, do you have a moment? I’d like to ask you something.” 

You recognized his mannerisms and general output as a salesman. Why he was in a dirty subway to advertise was beyond you. You give a halfway smile, about to have him move along. But your voice is caught in your throat when you spot people from the corner of your eye. 

The loan sharks from before. 

“Yep! Yep, what’s up?” You didn’t have the luxury to deny his invitation. 

The man seemingly smiled a little wider, just a smidge. He sets his briefcase beside you on the bench, just as the goons catch up. The leader smirks lightly in your direction, stopping with his men. 

“Right then, let’s go finish our conversation, hm?” 

Your jaw tightens, you weren’t able to hide behind someone this time. You had to face the music. What horrors awaited? Were they going to make you sign a contract to sell your kidneys? Your eyes? Your limbs? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. But just as you were to stand up, the Salesman turns and faces the men. 

“We’re in the middle of our own conversation. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I’d like to speak with her first.” 

Your jaw drops. Were the Gods feeling extra merciful today? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You sit up and put your hands in your lap. You wait patiently and politely for the goons reply, knowing how pissed off they were. They glare slightly at the taller man, and go sit at a bench a little ways away silently. 

“Shit…” You sigh under your breath. When you lift your head, you see the man waiting for your attention, making you regain your composure. “Uh—uh… so, what’s up?”  

The man opens up his briefcase and, to your surprise, holds up two envelopes. One red one blue. Ddakji. 

“Would you like to play a game?” 

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         You sat on the subway, thinking about the events that just occured. 

Slap after slap in the face, you kept going. It wasn’t even about the money anymore, it was pure determination. But you had actually managed to win a few rounds. The thrill of the possible win was greater than the risk of the slap. It was a high better than any drug you could imagine. So, when the male stopped and handed you a card, you were more than a little shocked. 

The next events pass by like a blur. The subway that would take you back to your city arriving. Somehow, the man seemingly knew this. 

You scrambling to get onto the tram before the goons from earlier could catch up. The salesman handing you your purse that you nearly forgot in the panic. You remember him giving you a faint wink as you get on the subway, clutching your purse tightly as you leave all the men behind. 

You look at the card he gave to you. It was so simple, but somehow eerie as all hell. You didn’t trust it as far as you could throw it. But the idea was intriguing to say the least. Playing simple games to make enough money to pay off all your debt? It sounded too good to be true. You knew better, it definitely was too good to be true. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

         Jenny’s. You didn’t know if you hated the scent of the club or not. It reminded you of all you had to endure just doing this job alone. Being an exotic dancer was no easy feat. An extremely straining job, both physically and mentally. But the money was more than you’d normally get at a minimum wage joint. That’s what kept you here in this hellhole. 

You finished up your time on the stage, now walking the floor with other women. You’ve got a knack for picking out customers who tip well. Everyone’s got a tell. Whether it’s their hair, their shoes or their demeanor, you could see it. You needed to find someone egotistical, someone you could milk out a good 500 won from at minimum.  

Then, you spot him. A man making his way to the VIP section of Jenny’s. His shoes were one of a kind, and they didn’t look bad either. His bright purple hair was a clear indicator for the demeanor you were looking for. An easy target. 

You sashay your way there, security letting you pass. Your heels clack with the staircase floors till you reach the top. The man was sitting back amongst a black cushion couch. He wasn’t alone, a few other men sitting around. Blinged out men, one might add. Now here’s where you might’ve struck jackpot. But, you’re no stranger to this, you needed to play it safe. You didn’t want to bite off more than you could chew. 

Stopping in front, you lean down, pushing your hands against your knees. You made sure to set all your attention onto the purple haired individual. He sits up a little, taking in your beauty. 

“Hola, señorita.” His language change catches you off guard. You give him an easy smile. 

“Designer.” You reach to touch the jacket he wore, but purposefully stop yourself. You leave a faint hint of desire to want more. He seemingly takes the bait, beckoning you closer. “You can touch it.” He smirks softly. It was almost too easy, he was too confident for his own good. “You wanna go somewhere? It must be hard being the most interesting person here.” Your hand gently brushes his hair, making the male lean into your touch with an inhale. 

But then, he grabs your hand. 

“No, beautiful.” He says in English, making you blink in confusion. After a few moments, you’re able to understand what he said. He continues, 

“I’m afraid I’m only here to look, no private dances. But I’m about to come to a huge influx of cash, gorgeous. And when I do, I’ll be sure to return to you, my lovely.” He finishes with another English phrase, giving you a thumb finger heart. 

You knew there was no point in trying to mooch off his ‘friends’, they’d know they were second choice sloppy seconds. This was a bust. So, you click your tongue and force a smile. 

“I look forward to it.” 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

         When you finally made it home for the night, you’re careful to not make too much noise. The television was still on. It emanated the only light in the room. Your father was passed out on the couch, his snores being louder than the volume of the tv. Empty bottles of soju took the space of the once clean coffee table. 

Taking off your shoes, you set down your stuff. You walk to the dining table, where a yellow paper lies remained.

 “EVICTION NOTICE” 

It was hardly a comforting reminder. You had left it there to make sure you and your dad didn’t forget. Today, you haven’t made nearly enough to get the sharks to back off. You were screwed. You knew you were lucky they haven’t showed up to your house to kidnap you yet. 

Maybe some sort of miracle would happen and your dad would get his job back. Maybe you’d acquire some sort of cash that could solve all your problems. 

The thought leads you to shuffle through your purse, pulling out the card again. As you hold it, you limp to the kitchen and open the fridge. On the door was a photo held there by a cheap magnet. It was of you and your father when you were but a child. Both of you smiling brightly at a playground. 

Hissing softly, you hold your leg. You lift your foot and rotate your ankle. Your job was physically very taxing. 

You’re pleasantly greeted with an empty fridge. Today was your dad’s turn to get some food, but it seemed his priorities stopped him from doing so. You sigh, sort of expecting this, and close the fridge again. 

You flip the card over and read the number written out. Your eyes linger on the pages a moment, trying to see if this was really what you were going to do. But, did you even have a choice? 

Taking your phone out of your purse, you take a deep breath, and dial the number. There’s a few seconds of ringing before you’re told to state your name. With a heavy heart, and a shaky voice, you set your fate in stone. 

“(L,n) (Y,n).”

[kvotheunkvothe]

Should I get a kitten?

I have 3 cats: Medusa (age 7, Russian Blue mix), Ophelia (age 5, calico domestic shorthair), and Leviathan (age 1, domestic shorthair).

I acquired Leviathan while I was heartsick over losing Pendragon (who was age 3) April of last year to illness. all my kitties love being around me, but they can be JEALOUS. especially when Leviathan sees Medusa cuddling with me--he chases her off. at bedtime, I often have to choose one to kick out or he'll stalk her in the room. they don't injure one another beyond some minor scratching, but Medusa will growl a lot and be extremely unhappy when he's stalking her.

he also chases her when he's bored. Ophelia will wrassle with him a bit, but he (and Ophelia, when she was younger and rowdier) like to go after Medusa because she hisses and REACTS and can be chased. Ophelia might run a bit, but then she flops over and swats, and ultimately isn't spooked if he pulls the same stunts on her. also, she LOVES to get loved on, so she'll happily let him lick her until it turns to bites. Medusa doesn't want them to approach her unless they're clearly focused on something else (like all staring at a bird, or all being fed).

Leviathan is also kind of neurotic: sometimes he gets overstimulated and wanders from toy to toy trilling to himself, then might cause mischief with Medusa. he's always been prone to getting overstimulated like this, and I play with him a lot to try to combat this--but sometimes he JUST wants to mess with Medusa. Ophelia is a bit lazy and snoozes in between eating, so she doesn't run around enough to satisfy him.

if I got a kitten, I think its playful nature could distract Leviathan and get some of his energy out. in my experience cats can be in their terrible teens like this up until even age 5, so he's got years where he could use another little friend. a kitten might also be a good friend to the others: both Medusa and Ophelia were buddies with Pendragon because he was a sweetheart who just loved other cats and people and was an absolute gentleman.

on the other hand, the kitten could end up the target of jealousy, and Leviathan could also get territorial and start spraying (yes, neutered animals can still spray). Medusa could also feel neglected with yet another animal in the house--she was my first cat and my only for about a year until I had to return to the office in the pandemic and felt bad with her home alone. I'd gotten Ophelia initially as a buddy to Medusa, and Medusa did used to like holding her down to lick her ears, but they've never gotten along since Ophelia entered her own terrible teen years (note the above chasing she did to Medusa as well).

other factors: I have my own house (space is not an issue), I work from home (and so can be present during the transition and intervene if there's an emergency, although I also really am working), and I would want a fairly young kitten (under 6 months) for easier integration. all my cats are adopted and spayed/neutered, also, and I'd be acquiring a kitten from the local shelter. I would love an adult cat, but I don't think an adult would fulfill this niche OR be accepted by the others like a kitten would.

also also: all are indoor-only cats, and I play with them, and I have toys that move when touched and birdfeeders to attract birds to the windows. my cats are spoiled lil gremlins is what I'm saying.

[eruden-writes]

Strictly Pleasure - Part 23 (orc x human)

Summary: An awkward fresh-out-of-a-relationship woman and an orc that owns a sex store enter an adult theater together. She, intent on pushing her own boundaries. He, just looking to give her some sense of safety. Well, that and he wouldn’t complain about having a bit of fun himself.

After they inevitably get interrupted, Jek deals with the problem while Heidi flees. Resigned, he believes he’ll never see her again.

Thus begins Jek and Heidi’s sporadic interactions until, eventually, they find themselves fumbling around each other daily at the very place it started: Strictly Pleasure.

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Part 1 - Master List - Previous

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Side by side, Jek and Di wandered down the great corridor of the museum. A few others passed them as they meandered, but the later the hour grew the less others seemed to be about.

“I’m serious, I’m not sad. Must be the superior company.” This time, it was Jek’s turn to move further along the wall while Di watched him carefully, curiosity lighting up her eyes as he approached a painting. He knew the inspiration for this particular work of art.

“This one reminds me of you,” he announced, glancing over his shoulder at Di.

Heidi couldn’t silence her snort of laughter as she stood beside him. The work he indicated depicted a strong orc woman, straddling an orc man – pinning him down with her knees on his shoulders – and driving a sword through his throat. Nearby, nymphs in various states of dress and undress watched, anger angled toward the man and relief toward the woman. “How does that remind you of me?”

“You gotta know orcish lore, but Teaka,” he motioned to the orc woman before pointing to the orc man, “is slicing this guy’s head off, because he was trying to assault the nymphs.” Jek turned back to Di, a grin back on his lips as he leaned toward her, counting off adjectives on his fingertips. “Badass, beautiful, and caring.”

“I’m not sure about all that.” Heidi made a disbelieving sound, though her lips quirked in a way that betrayed her smile. Despite knowing Gujek Korgak was a famed flirt – at least, according to her ex – something in his earnest gaze felt sincere. It was hard not to feel flattered.

“Trust me. If I’m sad, you’re badass and beautiful and caring. I can go on, if you like. I’m good with my words.” He’d almost said ‘tongue’ in place of ‘words’ but caught himself. Straightening from leaning toward her, he started to count off further words on his fingers. “Stunning, benevolent, kind, earth-shatteringly banging, gorgeous.”

The more he said, the warmer Heidi felt her cheeks grow and the broader his smile grew. Near the end of his list, he waggled his eyebrows at her.

In an effort to hide her blush, she raised the informative pamphlet to obscure her face. She could hardly think with his intent eyes on her. Turning on her heel, away from the representation of womanly power, she gave a fake gasp of surprise. “Oh look, they have an exhibit on statuary. I think it’s this way.”

Behind her, Jek gave a little chuckle, but he followed after her.

“I remember the statues.” Heidi was grateful to have something else to focus on, other than the potential realizations tripping about her head. The world around them melted again, before reassembling to show the first statue. She crossed her arms, sighing as she lightly shook her head. “You started mimicking the poses and dragged me into it.”

“You agreed!” Another flare of embarrassing heat climbed through Jek as he pointed to their counterparts. His younger self held out a hand to Di as he stood posed similar to the statue they stood in front of. There was another half of the statue to mimic and, with a nod of his head, he wordlessly indicated she should aid his recreation. After a glance from Jek to the statue and back, young Heidi sighed, smiled, and took his hand.

Despite Jek’s best efforts, he could feel his lips tilting into ‘pout’ territory while staring down at the woman beside him. She had edged closer to him while they spoke. As soon as statues were mentioned, he’d recalled the moment with fondness and, now, he worried Heidi didn’t feel the same.

“I did agree to it,” she replied lightly, casting him a sidelong look while their younger selves angled themselves just right to copy the stone poses. A teasing smile curled at her lips, noting his expression. Unable to help herself, she leaned closer to him, almost pressing her head against the side of his arm. “You were too cute to say no to.”

Yet another flare of heat crawled over him at the minor contact and her words. Faintly, he wondered if he should get his hormones tested considering how his temperature was undulating. His hands flexed, wanting nothing more but to pull Heidi closer and show her something else she couldn’t say no to. But he stopped the thought. She might be teasing him, might be at ease with him for the moment.

That didn’t mean she wanted more to do with him. They were taking a literal trip down memory lane. Fond feelings were bound to be rekindled, though not necessarily true. With a scoff, he crossed his arms and turned away from her to watch their old selves make fools of themselves. Though he feared his lips were certainly bunched into a pout now.

She snickered but turned back to the show as well. With dread and delight, she knew the finale was coming.  

Anticipation strained between them both as, with each passing statue, they were coming closer to the last one. It had been lingering like a specter over their heads.

Finally, finally, they came to it. The last statue of the exhibit, a masterpiece among masterpieces, housed in a room to itself with two hallways branching off from the room. It was an old bit of lycanthrope mythology, carved into stone.

Fen, the Wolf to End All, in a humanoid form with broken shackles trailing from his wrists and ankles. He clutched a mer woman with fins for ears, scales speckled over her skin. Depending on the viewing angle, the woman – Merathea, daughter of Seidon the Sea God – could be viewed with legs or a fish-like bottom half. Even now, years after viewing it, Heidi found it clever.

It had been one of her favorite sculptures, even before meeting Jek.

“We don’t need to copy this one,” Di said stiffly as they came into the room. The pose was, by far, the most intimate. It would have made keeping her heart’s distance from his flirtatious words difficult. She walked from one side to the other, viewing the illusion of the legs versus the tail, avoiding looking at Jek.

“Wait,” he said as he grabbed for her.

Heidi’s heart skittered as Jek grabbed her wrist, spun her around. Her body instinctively leaned a little away, but not so much as it should have. A lump rose in her throat, making it hard to swallow as she stared up at the orc man. His green eyes pinned her, a look in them that made her insides tangle up as he leaned over her. It was only when his gaze flicked away, and he gently guided her hand up to the back of his neck, that she remembered the statue.

Her body relaxed, though a small drip of disappointment slid through her thoughts. “You’re copying the statue.”

His attention jumped back to her face as he nodded to the statue, a smile plastered across his lips. “This is the best one! The detail and the tenderness. The look he’s giving her. Everything!”

Heidi made a sound, her eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips framed by his tusks. A crooked smile tilted at her lips as her nose wrinkled, before she held up the pamphlet and pointed to the title of the sculpture. “You do realize this piece is called the Coercion of Merathea?”

By this point, Jek dragged both his hands over his burning face, groaning. Heidi had to stifle her amusement, watching him from the corner of her eye as his younger self blanched.

A look of horror melted over Jek’s face as his attention flicked up to the statue. He couldn’t see the coercion. Merathea had her hand clutched to the back of Fen’s neck, seemingly pulling his face closer to hers. Fen’s grip dipped into Merathea’s thigh and hips, but it was needy, scared, not wanting to let go. But that was his interpretation and, apparently, an incorrect one.

Swallowing, his eyes fell back to Di, his fingers nervously readjusting against her. A rush of static filled his brain, wondering what else he had misinterpreted. “I’m not forcing you into anything. Am I?”

A soft smile twitched across her lips at his uncharacteristic soft tone. His fidgeting fingers and the heat from his firm, muscled form were vaguely distracting. Against her better judgement, her heart thrummed excitedly. Giving a little shake of her head, Heidi admitted, “No, you’re not forcing me into anything.”

“That’s a relief. I’m not known for my awareness,” he laughed, the tension in his shoulders visibly melting away. His hold on Di solidified, his gaze half tilted toward the statue to correct the placement of his hands.

She rolled her eyes, though the amused curl of her lips remained as he continued to minutely adjust their positions. “No, you’re known for flirtation and talent, I know.”

Something in Di’s voice triggered something in his brain. A breathlessness that sunk straight to his core. Slowly, his eyes slid to her, finding the young woman peering up at him from beneath dark lashes behind her glasses lenses. All of a sudden, he was very aware of where they touched.

One hand on the swell of her hip, the other cradling the back of her neck. Her hand on his upper arm and the other at the back of his neck. The desire to feel her dig her nails in, to pull him closer, flared through him. He had her tugged at a slight angle, too close to be appropriate for essential strangers. His knee slightly wedged between her thighs. How he’d managed to ignore her soft heat until that moment, he didn’t know.

Jek leaned toward her, tugging her closer and causing her to arch her back a little further. The heat spiked between them as Di’s eyes widened a fraction. His voice dipped suggestively, “And being good with my mouth.”

Following his lead, Heidi’s own voice softened as she locked eyes with him, “Are you talking about your words or something else?”

He tilted his head again, leaning a smidgen closer. “Wanna find out?”

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Part 24 is available on my Patreon now!

[seungkwanslowqualityenglish]

Whispers Within The Woods

✿ Synopsis: Nana always told you stories of the mythological creatures that lived in the world. Some were of the kindness and joy held by some, while others were of the pain and suffering caused by others. You however never really listened to those stories, but as you end up in his territory, you really wish you would have.

✿ Who: Nakakita Yuma (&Team) x Reader ✿ Word Count: 7,629 ✿ Genre: Fantasy(specifically fae)/Angst ✿ Warnings: Grandparent death, forced kissing, parent death, beheading, blood, mythical creatures, forced relationship. ✿ Request: No ✿ I've been inactive for a while, but I'm back and writing again. Not proofread. Just a little Yuma fic I came up with when I had writers block from my other fic I'm writing. Enjoy Luné, also in need of Luné friends so hmu.

Nana’s bedtime stories were never conventional. Instead of hearing epics about princes going to the ends of the earth to save their princess or about anthropomorphic animals, you often heard a totally different type of story. The tales were not about how love can conquer all or how love can survive in a hopeless place. No stories about commoners falling love with royals or people finding out there is more to life than material greed. Instead, your nana told you stories about things others would call mythology or mystical creatures. Tales of fairies and their deeds, epics of dragons and phoenixes, and stories about werewolves and vampires. All the creatures of mythical creation, the stories that started centuries ago, are oftentimes told as ways to terrify children from acting out, or to keep people from going where they should not.

As a child, others heard stories about Tinkerbell and her legion of fairies, the kind and benevolent fairies that do all they can to help others. However, the ones in your Nana’s stories were anything but helpful or kind or benevolent. The tales of the seelie and unseelie courts were her favorite to tell, as you laid in bed drifting to sleep. She would tell you of the kind seelie faeries, how they help those who help them, the tales of how they protect children from danger, and how once they protect you, you will forever have their protection. When crossing into seelie territory, it is best to make an offering of something sweet, specifically sweets or berries, or something shiny, like jewelry, that will show them that you mean no harm, and if they take a liking to you luck and happiness will follow you. The seelie fairies were always kind to children, and kind to adults who leave offerings to them, she always said if you pass into a fairy ring, you better hope it is of the seelie, for they are more forgiving and will accept a heartfelt apology.

The tales she told of the unseelie were drastically different. Nana often said little regarding the unseelie, only what she felt was necessary, just enough to keep you terrified of them, to keep you away from them. They were the exact opposite of the seelie, just as unkind and rude as one would expect. They take pleasure in causing pain on others, will lead children into danger, and adults into harm. When crossing into unseelie territory, make an offering of something different, things like wine or beer, maybe bread or jewelry, but nothing too sweet or too shiny, and just hope and pray they accept the offering and do you no harm. If they reject your offering, you will be plagued with bad luck and misfortune, sorrow and misery will follow you around until you get yourself expunged of the unseelie curse.

Nana talked about the second hand accounts of those who have entered unseelie reigned territory and had offerings rejected, stories of mischief and violence that followed those poor people. The stories were enough to warrant you to keep your distance, thankfully Nana seemed to know which places were claimed to be seelie and unseelie territory. It was odd, however you did not question it. A more inquisitive child would have questioned it, but from a young age you found it best to not question Nana nor her delusions. Since, after all, any sane person would not be telling their children and grandchildren to avoid massive parts of the forest due to little fairies, creatures that do not even exist.

Despite your skepticism, you never once questioned her, listening intently, even as you aged, to her stories. Nana’s tales of the kindness of the fairies, she would claim the seelie court protected the Kim’s kid from being majorly injured when he wrecked his bicycle, when the truth was he just fell off the road onto the grass, not really something to injure himself badly on. She also had tales of the opposite, claiming that Mr. Park’s failure at obtaining and keeping a job, being terminated from three positions within five months, was because he angered the unseelie court and the fae followed him causing misfortune.

At the age of fifteen, Nana’s stories intensified, no longer was it just the faes are bad and fairies are good, avoid the fae and befriend the fairies. The tales to never take anything from a fae, how it is a trick. That was how they apparently tricked people into staying in their territory, by consuming something of fae origin, usually a treat or drink they made, it would be infused with a nectar that once consuming it you would be unable to leave their territory, stuck, bound to whichever fae decided to make you their pet. It was only after telling you all of these stories, that she told you about her own father, Nana never spoke about her dad, and you never met your great grandfather, he having died before your birth. But, she had a good reason for mentioning him to you, telling you his story, letting you know just why she was so worried about you as a child being in the forest behind the house, why she was so worried about the fairies and faes.

“Your great grandfather, my dad, he was a great man, but he was not the brightest, he often did things without thinking, and he did something incomprehensibly stupid. Just before your birth, he was sick, he knew he did not have long left, he did something unthinkable when he found out he only had days to live. When my father was younger, he was collecting firewood and for our woodstove, he unknowingly walked into the seelie’s territory. He made an offering of the only thing he had on him that wasn’t his ax, it was a necklace, he had bought it for my mother, and planned to give it to her that night. It was due to that necklace that he made it home that night, but when he found out he only had days to live, he did the unthinkable. He went into the unseelie territory, he stole it right from under the fae’s noses. Usually they would have just cursed him and caused him misery, but seeing how he was dying, he was dead before they could really cause him any pain. You must never go out into the forest, not near where they reign, they must never find out who you are related to, for if they knew, they would cause the most horrible of fates to befall you, and would avenge their loss. The Unseelie Court is unforgiving, they will never forget those who wronged them, and do everything in their power to get revenge.” Nana said, her delusions getting worse and worse, now she believed they had cursed her father and wanted revenge. “You must promise me to never cross the bramble bush surrounded river, to cross those brambles would put you in grave danger.”

It was easier to promise the elderly lady than try to make sense of her nonsensical ramblings. Avenge their loss, revenge against your great grandfather, a stolen necklace, all pure malarkey. As you aged, you wondered why you had to get a delusional grandmother like this, other’s grandmothers drowned their delusion in the bottle or with pills, but yours instead let hers run free.

By the age of eighteen the tales and stories she would tell you were nothing more than distant memories and thoughts. You were consumed with much more important things, colleges and applications, your future, more than just the silly stories your Nana would tell you. As you planned to move away, start your life, attend college, get a degree, get a job, and leave this small forest town, it was a dream to be away from all of this, the crazy stories, and just everything.

Moving away however did not last long, being called back into your hometown not even a year after making the move. It was your father’s insistence that brought you back, he was never an emotional man, and when he is close to tears, it is a signal that something is bad or something is getting bad. As you entered the house you so willingly vacated a year prior, you saw the chaotic scene. Dad running around, mom trying to calm him, some random person in scrubs attempting to calm him as well, and a second person in scrubs leaving a specific room, your Nana’s room. It only took a minute for your mother to catch sight of you, quickly pulling you aside, destined to catch you up to date of what was happening.

Initially unable to even start, your mother was hasty with her words, “Your Nana, she’s fallen ill. They say it was sudden, they never saw it coming, she has days if even that to live. She has asked for nothing but you this whole time, we worried you would not get home in time to see her. Please, go to her, there’s not long.” With that, the usually strong woman in front of you burst into tears, this time it was your father trying to calm her down, as he simply nodded your way, even his own cheeks were tear stained.

Entering your grandmother’s room the scene was a sight for sore eyes. The vibrant and lively woman that once used to talk for hours on the fae and fairies, she had sullen, sunken eyes, and boney features looking ghostly compared to the image of her that remained in your mind. The once bright woman now seemed as though she could barely sit, watching as she slowly lifted her frail hand, you knew that your thoughts were true, she could not sit up on her own accord. She was so lively when you last saw her, within the past year it was like she had aged tenfold, easily looking twice the age she was when you parted ways last year.

Quickly sitting by her bedside, she clutched your hands as harshly as she could. “My dear,” Nana started, pausing to look at the nurse still in the room. With that cue, you were left alone with the aging relative. “It seems my hourglass is running out, but I’m glad to see you one last time.” She said, her frail hand quickly coming up, caressing the side of your face before falling once more. Reaching into her pocket, she fished something out of it, as her hand joined her other, grasping your hand. “I must give you this. You must hide it. Don’t let them see you wearing it. You must remember everything I’ve taught you, those stories were all true, and you must hand them down to your children when it’s time, as I have with you. This necklace as well, it must be given to the one who will care for it the most. I have faith in you my dear. You won’t let your dear Nana down.”

You were unable to even start talking to her, as she removed her hands from yours, you put the necklace in your jacket pocket. Starting to open your mouth, ready to say something, anything back. The soft aged voice of your grandmother cut through the silence, “Will you go get my nurse, I’m in need of some more medicine.”

With a nod, you stood, “Of course,” you replied, quickly starting to exit the room, hearing your Nana mutter something about how her last few grains of sand have passed through the hourglass. Leaving the room, you notified the nurses, one of them entered the room, and started working. It was not even two minutes later that the nurse called for the other two, as they ran into the room, everyone knew something was going wrong, everyone knew that Nana was gone. It took ten minutes before any of the nurses exited the room, confirming what the three of you already knew, she was gone.

Tears flowed for the next few days, the stage of mourning was horrible for everyone. Nana was deeply loved within the family and within the community. Even after a month passed, you found yourself unable to return to college, the future you once dreamed of seemed worthless if you did not have your Nana there to cheer you on. Instead of returning to the city, you decided to stay home, claiming it was to help your parents.

One day after helping your mother clean the house, you found yourself outside after she left for work. Slipping your jacket on, you did something for the first time in your life, you took a walk throughout the forest. Nana’s stories of the dangers and frights were forgotten as you passed throughout the trees. Fingertips grazing the green leaves on the tree branches, the birds chirping made the ambiance a wonderful place. Shoving one hand into your jacket pocket, you started to wonder why you never went into the forest before. As you thought, a cold metallic item hit your finger, pulling the item out, it was the necklace that your grandmother had given you. Without a second thought of her words or her warning, you simply put the item on. The metal was cold against your skin, but it felt welcome as you stood in the bright sunlight.

Unbeknownst to you, despite the deep trek into the forest, you were not alone. As you stood sunbathing in the sunlight, a figure watched you from afar. They were absolutely enamored by your beauty, fascinated by what stood in front of them, their mind only had one desire in it at that moment to see you on your knees by his side for eternity, his eternal little plaything, since once he has his hands on you, you will never be able to get away from him. The male figure continued to observe you from his spot hidden amongst the trees, the vines and bramble giving him a wonderful spot to remain hidden from. As he stared, something caught his eye, something shiny. Eyes nearing in on it, and he realized what it was, the necklace that adorned the neck of the beautiful person he was watching. Staring more, he started to make the small item out, a wave of realization washed over him, that necklace, it had to be the one that was stolen from his father all those years ago. His father always told him about it, it was stolen before he was born, but he had heard about it so much, it was like seeing something that had been explained in such explicit detail. In that moment, he knew there would be no chance you would get away from him, once he had the chance, you would be his.

The sunlight started to fade, it grew colder and darker as you tried to find your way out of the forest. If this was the reason your Nana told you to stay from the forest, you would have understood it. The darkness was hard to navigate, but instead she told you ridiculous stories, fairies and fae, what nonsense. It was nothing other than old wives tales, like those who said their children were stolen by wolves and foxes to explain why their young children disappeared or passed. Finally finding your way out, had you heeded Nana’s warning, you would have realized long ago you set foot into his territory, but he let you leave for now, since before long you will find your way to him, and then he will not let you leave.

Returning home, you found yourself desiring to return to the forest, to the trees. They were calling you, it was unexpected, and confusing. You had spent your whole life in fear of those trees, in fear of the fae that lived within them, or at least the fae your Nana claimed lived within them. But here you were, desiring to be under the treetops once more, a need to venture further and further into the darkness within the branches. A desire to get lost within the trees, and a fleeting idea of getting lost and never coming back.

As you fell asleep, the ideas filled your mind, calling you back into the trees, back into the darkness. Your dream was plagued with visions of the trees, you walking further and further into the trees, easily going three times further than you had today. You found yourself in a stream, crystal clear water running through your fingertips, as the wind blew your hair around, but then there was a feeling placing your hair back. Turning, you saw no one, but you could have sworn someone was fixing your hair from the wind’s actions. Fingers intertwined with another’s fingers, but their face unknown, their figure escaping your vision. The feeling was fleeting, the hand left yours, before the sound of leaves moving met your ears. They were running, soon you were as well, running after them, a game, a chase, something, you were unsure of what, but you were doing it. As you felt the tree branches scraping your skin, and then brambles tearing small holes in your clothing, you found yourself in front of a river, on the other side stood a man. The man’s features were a blur, the only thing you could tell for certain was his dark black hair and his sharp cat like eyes peering at you from behind the veil of bangs. Unable to stop yourself, you crossed the river, it was not as deep as you thought it should be, oddly enough it also was not running, the water stagnant and unmoving. As the water seeped into your shoes, you realized, on your feet were no shoes, instead the water washed away dirt and blood from them, caused by your trek through the forest with no shoes on. The water mesmerized momentarily, before you felt the water slowly crawling up your pants, soaking the material that was underwater, and dampening what was not. Looking up, you saw him once more, something was drawing you to him, it was like a rope pulling you closer and closer to the unknown man. Unable to stop the pull, you were like a moth to a flame, despite the cool sooth of the water, your feet started to move once more. The stones in the river stabbed at your feet as you crossed, but that slowed you down none. Stepping onto the dirt, your down damp feet struggled to find their footing, slipping on the mud you had created. Hitting the ground never came however, as arms were around you, keeping you from falling. Despite having not hit the ground, your mind however did hit a wall, fading into darkness as your body went limp.

Upon waking you immediately knew something was off, the thing you were laid on was not your bed, it was hard and felt like a bed of sticks. As you opened your eyes, it was what you had felt, the sharp edges of discarded branches stabbed you in the back as you shifted, starting to sit up. The odd dream the night before came to mind, it felt so realistic and lifelike. Running through the forest, standing in the water, the wind blowing your hair; but one part of it was a mystery, a figure you believed accompanied you; yet, he was just that, a figure in the shadows.

As you attempt to stand, a harsh pain stops the attempt, gazing downwards, you see your feet, dirt covered, and small cuts that were no longer bleeding visible. The thought it was reality caused you to fall to the ground, all the memories flooding your mind as though it was just a dream. The mild crisis you were undergoing was cut short however, as you heard footsteps of another. Finally assessing where you were, it looked like a little hideaway made of fallen branches and leaves. Attempting to hide, you hoped whatever it was would pass on, hopefully not get a scent of the human here and leave without a word. As attempts to remain silent were made, the thought of how did you get here filled your thoughts. The river was the last place you were, and now you were here, in someone’s little hideaway. Someone had to be with you previously, and they brought you here. The man you felt compelled to go around, it had to have been him, if only you could remember what he looked like, if only your mind had not cursed you by only bringing up the memory of a shadow like figure.

The footsteps stopped as someone stood at the entrance of the hideaway. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” called out a soft male voice. Before you saw the face behind the voice, unconsciously your body shifted back, trying to hide slightly more against the tree branches and leaves. His hand entered before his body, a bottle of what looked like water in it, almost like he was offering you a peace offering, before finally fully entering within the space you were in. He did not set off any red flags in your mind, he had soft looking fluffy black hair, and his smile featured a snaggletooth. If you had met him in one of your classes or out on the streets, you would have thought he was pretty attractive, but having met him in this situation, it was quite different.

You made no motion towards him, and he seemed to expect that, instead of moving towards you, he just sat where he stood. “I think you may have been sleepwalking or something,” He started, almost like he was trying to explain to you what happened. “I just found you on the side of the river bank asleep.” He added, as though it would bring any more comfort to his words. “I didn’t want to just leave you there, so I brought you here, so you wouldn’t be exposed to all the elements.” He continued, nothing he said brought you comfort, despite the beauty of the face saying them. “I just went to grab you this, I thought you might be thirsty, you seemed really out of it earlier.”

There was no attempt made to grab the bottle. Despite the explanations, it still made no sense. At no point in life had sleepwalking been a trait within anyone in your family, and unless stress brought it on, you had no idea how else you ended up out here. The refusal to move towards him and refusal to respond to him must have irritated the boy, as instead of trying to get you to take the bottle again, he simply sat it down, and stood up. “I’ll just give you some time then.” He said, before making his exit as quickly as he did his entrance.

You sat, silent, still, and thirsty for about ten minutes. Only then did it get the best of you, you reached over, grabbing the bottle without a second thought. Had you been in a better state of mind, you would have tried to run, but with everything happening, it seemed like your brain was just not functioning as normal. As the bottle met your hands, you quickly pulled the cap off, not even taking note of how it had already been opened previously. The bottle was immediately drained as it met your lips, after the first sip, you found yourself unable to stop, and soon the bottle was empty. With that, you finally found yourself able to stand and walk somewhat. Exiting the hideaway, looking around, you found yourself unable to pinpoint where you were in the forest. Deciding you might as well just start walking, you would find home or someone else soon.

Not even three minutes into walking, you saw him again, he was sitting there on a large rock with his back to you. Had he been facing you, the first thing that would have caught your eye was the large smirk gracing his face. He had known the moment you drank the bottle of liquid, he also knew it now meant you were unable to leave him. As he turned, his eyes immediately found yours. “Thank you,” You softly muttered, watching as he stood up. He started to walk near you, as he did you felt a warm feeling start to fill your chest, it butterflying out and spreading throughout your body, filling each and every crevice with this warm feeling. The warm feeling desired one thing and one thing only, the feeling of being in this man’s arms. You felt no fight as he neared you, a hand soft brushing hair from your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, as the warm feeling turned to burning. The burning started within your chest and took over your whole body like a wildfire, it was not gently building like the warmth did, instead it was a raging storm that was unstoppable. Unable to hold your own body weight up, you collapsed, only to be caught by two very familiar arms. “Stupid little one, you should know better than to take drinks from strangers.” He said, carrying the figure in his arms back to the hideaway.

The darkness fading from your mind this time, you did not awaken to the sharp branches stabbing your back, instead you awoke to what felt like warmth. A warmth behind you, an arm around you, a hand on your forehead, almost as though someone was concerned for you. Sitting up with a start, desire to rid yourself of whoever it was on you, you turned to see the man again. “What.” You started, unable to continue your thought as you felt his hand on your forehead once more.

The man had taken to playing the role, the concerned stranger, he knew he would not reveal the truth until later, it was almost too much fun to play you like this. “Are you okay?” He questioned, “You took a nasty fall. You just passed out. I guess everything is just a bit too much for you. Luckily I was there to catch you. I’d hate for you to fall onto the cold hard ground.” He seemed almost concerned, as he reached over, to grab another bottle, passing it to you without much being said.

Taking the bottle, some desire overcame you, you opened it, draining it as you had the one before. “Thank you,” You said, watching as the male nodded. You were still unsure of what was going on, sleep walking, fainting, it was just all unlike you, but it must be the stress. It had to be all the stress caused by your grandmother’s passing. “Thank you,” You started again, stopping before giving him a confused look, realizing you did not even know his name, to thank him for his kindness.

It was almost as though he could read your mind however, since he quickly told you what you had been wondering. “Yuma,” He said, “My name is Yuma.” He told you. As he watched you pass the bottle back over to him, he grabbed another. “I brought a few once you passed out, I assumed you’d be really thirsty, since you are pretty far out here.” He explained, watching as you drank bottle after bottle. One bottle was enough to make you never be able to leave him, but he would make sure you never wanted to leave him. While, sadly he knew it could take a while to take effect, he would just have to keep you preoccupied until it did.

Yuma was one to never be told no, growing up as the Fae Prince, everyone feared what his father might do to them if they told the fair prince no, and those who did found out with a slow and painful death. When he wanted to take his father’s throne, his own father told him no, only then had he faced this blind rage that left his hands blood covered and his father’s head rolling on the floor. He always got what he wanted, and he would not change now. He would make sure not only would you not leave him, but that you would want him, you would be able to deny any part of him, and he would be the only thing occupying your simple little mind.

“Yuma,” You repeated, before telling him your own name, watching as he nodded, a look on his face seemed like he already knew your name, but you did not question it. As you sat on the ground, you wanted to ask him something, just anything, moving the bottle from one hand to another, you found yourself staring up at him. “How did you find me? You said you found me on the river bank. Why were you out this far?” It took all your courage to ask the obvious, but part of your mind told you that it was stupid to ask, and that you should instead just be thankful he found you.

Yuma had expected this, the middle of the forest was not exactly the place most people hang out for fun, at least where humans stay. “Oh, I was just out on a morning walk, I don’t live too far from here,” He started, which while it was a lie, it also was not, he did not live far from here, and he technically was on a walk in the morning. “I think you’ve made it a lot farther into the woods than you think you did, since we aren’t that far from some other houses.”

Nodding, you accepted the answer, despite something in your mind telling you to not. After that, the silence remained for several moments, you not saying anything, and neither did he. It was an uncomfortable silence however, as your mind was on red alert, he was a stranger, he was in the middle of the woods, and he was just odd. But, those red flags soon started to fade, from pink to white, as your mind started to become fuzzy. The warmth from earlier happened again, but instead of growing, it immediately became a blazing fire, consuming your entire being. The heat however did not last, as quickly as it came, it was replaced with a freezing chill. The chill drains each and every bit of energy from your body. “I don’t feel so well.” You muttered, as you felt your head sway. The feeling was as though you were fainting, but you were sitting on the ground, confused as to how this was happening. It did not take long for Yuma’s arms to wrap around you, his forearms enveloping your waist being the last thing you remember, before everything went black once more.

Yuma could not keep the smile from coming upon his face as you fell forward into his chest. Soon, you would never want to leave him, you would never want to see your silly little mother or father again, you would never want to be far from him, you would be his and his alone. His gaze was almost cat like, staring at your passed out figure almost as though you were his prey, and he was the predator. Which, in all honesty, he was; you were the stupid little bunny that fell into his trap, and now he would have fun playing with his little toy forevermore. Raising a hand, he brushed the hair from your face, pressing his lips against your forehead. Had you been awake it would have been a sweet kiss, yet, seeing how you were not, it was menacing instead. He sat there for who knows how long, just petting your hair, pressing various kisses to your face, save for your lips, he decided that he would wait until you were awakened for him to do that. His heart swelled as he stared at the image in front of him, the object of his affection in his arms, moving unconsciously into his chest, even in your unawake state you desired to be with him, just like he desired you to be.

Awaking, you felt a warmth around you, it was Yuma’s arms holding you tight, your head laying on his chest as though it was a pillow. “What happened?” You muttered, your face still pressed against the male’s chest. Despite the thought he would immediately respond, Yuma remained silent, instead just rubbing your back and petting your hair as he had been. It was soothing though, part of you wanted him to do more, while the rational part of your mind was hanging on by a thread, telling you to run, telling you this was not normal, telling you to escape while you could. If only your mind knew it was already too late, it had been too late hours ago when you sleepwalked into the forest, you had been long been screwed.

As you shifted, moving back from his chest, you asked again, “What happened?” But as you did, your eyes locked with his. His eyes were enthralling, drawing you in, they were like a whirlpool and with each second you were being pulled in deeper and deeper, unable to escape. As you stared into his eyes, you felt compelled to do something that normal you would have never thought of, you felt compelled to kiss him. It was almost like you were being told to abandon all your morals and do as he says, to abandon all you knew for him, to abandon everything for Yuma. Give up everything for Yuma. You only love Yuma. Unable to stop the thoughts flooding your mind, you leaned in closer to him, connecting your lips with his.

Smiling into the kiss, Yuma was happy that it was working. He was quick to respond, deepening the kiss, pulling you further onto his lap. His tongue was quick to breach the divide between your lips, exploring your mouth, as you found yourself unable to stop yourself from moaning into his mouth, as you responded to the kiss. His lips moved against yours until you found yourself pulling back, lightheaded once more, only this time it was from the feeling of his mouth against yours. Labored breathing slipped past your lips as his mouth moved downwards, finding its way to the side of your neck. The high you felt continued as he started to suck deep purple marks along your neck, the euphoria of submitting to Yuma was like no other. How you felt could not compare to how you felt with others, not any other boyfriend or girlfriend had made you feel the way Yuma was, the warmth radiating throughout your body, the euphoria that came just from connecting your lips to his.

The high came crashing down however, as Yuma started to mutter against your neck. “Took fucking long enough, I shouldn’t have diluted it so much.” He muttered, forgetting that you were awake and able to hear him. He was reckless to assume you would have not heard his statement, especially seeing how he was kissing just under your ear, it would have been impossible for you to not hear him.

A rush of anger took over you, the string worth of rationality quickly becoming a rope, as your headstrongness overwhelmed what little effect his nectar had taken on you thus far. With a quick movement, you had pushed Yuma off of you, an uppercut to his jaw taking him by surprise as you ran out of the hideaway. As you found yourself more within your proper state of mind, you ran, running before he could have reacted to your little stunt and followed you. Seeing how dark it was already, you assumed it was mid evening at earliest, meaning he had been drugging you for who knows how many hours.

Running through the forest, you were harshly reminded of your shoeless feet, as you stumbled and stepped on sharp branches shards. You continued running, even once you heard him behind you, at least you assumed it was him. It could have been a wild animal, and honestly you would have rather let the wild animal get you, than be around him once more. Running, you found yourself passing things you had sworn you had seen before, but it did not stop you, instead you pressed forward continuing on.

Yuma had been taken aback the moment you pushed him, his mind was thinking you wanted something else, something he was completely willing to give you, he wanted to own both your soul and body. But, instead as a fist met his jaw, he was shocked. It was not the reaction he had expected, especially as the nectar was seeming to have taken over your body. But, as he said, he must have diluted it too much, allowing your original mindstate to take over.

As you ran, he could not stop himself from laughing, funny you thought you could escape him. He could have instantly been by your side, but instead he decided to have a little fun. What is a predator without his prey to chase, after all you were his pretty little bunny that fell into his trap. He felt joy watching the attempts to escape, you would near the river just for him to teleport you right back to where you had started five minutes ago. The joy was euphoric to him, giving him an idea of what kind of fun he would have with his little toy, once your mind fully submitted to him. Which, it would, it was not like you could escape him anyways.

You finally found yourself by the river, assuming this was the river that Yuma claimed to have found you by this morning. As you tried to step into the cold waters, you were unable to do so. Your foot, it was like it hit an invisible wall, something was preventing you from moving. First you tried your feet, both hit an invisible barrier. Then your hands, the same result. You however had no time to run elsewhere when you heard his laugh behind you. It was like you were in a small invisible hall, no longer the barrier just in front of you, but it was also beside you, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go so easily, did you sweetheart?” His voice, easily holding a mocking tone. Watching as you hit the barrier only visible to his eyes, trying to escape. Yuma could sense your stress, the fear, the anger within your being. It caused him to do nothing more than to laugh, laugh at your tries, he knew you would be unable to escape. His hand found your neck, wrapping around it as he tightened his grip, starting to pull you away from the barrier. “Now, now, now, let’s quit that, hitting my barrier won’t get you anywhere sweetheart.” He mockingly said, his other hand coming up to play with the necklace resting on your neck.

Eyes were focused on the other side of the river, it was only then that you saw it, the brambles. You were on the other side of the bramble covered river. It was only then that all the stories flooded back to your brain. Once you enter their territory you can not leave without an offering unless you want to be cursed. His hand playing with the necklace resting on your chest let you know he recognized the charm, the necklace she said to keep hidden. Never cross the bramble surrounded river, for the other side is the unseelie territory. And the most important one that you failed to heed, fae will trick you into eating something, for their nectar will be used to bind you to themselves. But there was one thing Nana could never tell you, since even she herself did not know it, once bound, you are not their plaything until death, you are their plaything forever more, since unlike fairies, the evil magic the fae practice, keeps them immortal. They only die when they desire to pass on, or through being killed by another, the latter being just how Yuma claimed his throne from his father.

As everything started to make sense, you felt the grip on your neck tighten Yuma pulling your head to lay against his shoulder. A harsh kiss was placed on your lips before the hand on your necklace moved. Suddenly a black teacup appeared in his hand, within the cup was a thick viscous liquid. Yuma wasted no time diluting it or disguising it as water this time, he wanted to make sure it took, and he would make sure to force feed it to you as many times as it took. He would not have another scene like you put on today. He would completely and totally mind break you, leaving you unable to think about anything but him, unable to want anything but him. No longer would you crave human goods or desires, you would desire him and him alone. You would willingly submit to him, and until the nectar corrupted your mind, he would force you to submit with as much cruelty as it took to break your spirit.

Despite attempts to move, his hand tightened, the grip on your neck causing you to feel lightheaded. As he felt your body start to fade, his hand moved from your neck to your mouth, quickly opening your lips to pour the contents of the teacup in. This was not enough for him however, his hand moving back to your neck as you started to regain your breathing and thoughts. He repeated the process twice more, three teacups full of nectar should be more than enough to make you nothing but his pliable plaything within minutes. Yet, at that moment, your sanity remained, and you started to struggle once more.

In a bright flash of light, you find yourself immobilized and in a black dimly lit room, the blood red carpet under your feet being the only thing you see. As a hand takes your own, you feel it dragging you along behind the owner of the hand. The carpet changes to black tile, before long you are at a large black door, being led through it. Whatever desire you had to fight, to run, disappeared, as they drained every bit of energy from your form, leaving you with just enough to keep standing and awake. The nectar starting to flood your mind, thoughts of Yuma being all that remained. The joy feeling of his lips on yours, the high you felt from his lips upon your neck, and fantasies of the euphoria you would feel upon giving him your body being all that your mind was filled with. Legs were numb as the walking continued, from tile to another swatch of blood red carpet, this time, it followed along the floor and up a short set of stairs, where a throne sat.

If your mind was working, you would be confused about this all, you would be fighting this all, but instead here you were subservient, following the man leading you towards the throne. Unsure of when it happened, it felt like you were not fully there for a while, only coming to when you felt a hand playing with the hair on the top of your head. Here you sat on your knees, wrist and ankles chained to the throne besides you, as your head rested against the arm of the throne. The sanity that remained by a thread was trying one last effort to get you out, but it was failing, and soon would be replaced with nothing but thoughts of Yuma. Thoughts of kissing Yuma. Thoughts of serving Yuma. Thoughts of nothing but Yuma. It is not that bad though, after all Yuma is your everything.

“Don’t get any frivolous ideas my love, you can’t escape me now my dear.” Yuma said, his voice slipping easily into your brain, the words smooth as velvet, despite actions saying the opposite. With a quick grip on the back of your head, Yuma yanked your head back, so your half closed eyes would focus on him. “Open your eyes.” He harshly said with a quick slap being administered to your cheek. The force of the slap woke you up slightly, causing both your eyes to be fully open and on him, he continued. “And this is where you will stay my queen/king, by my side, where you belong.” Pausing he pulled you into a forceful kiss, teeth clattering against yours as he dominated your movements in that moment. Pulling away, he pushed you back, making sure you were kneeling by his side, before his hand found its way back into your hair, making you focus on him once more, before his other hand gently caressed your chin. The nectar started to fully flood your brain, no longer being any thoughts of your own. All thoughts were of Yuma, what you wanted to do to Yuma, what you wanted Yuma to do to you. All was Yuma. Watching as the fight drained from your eyes, becoming glossy with desire, he leaned down, connecting his lips to yours once more, only this time, it was returned. Nothing filled your mind except the desire to please Yuma, to do as he likes, and you kissed him back. “This is right where you belong?” He questioned, watching as you nodded your head enthusiastically, he started to chuckle. His hand found its way back to your hair, petting it as you leaned into his touch. “Right little pet.”

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Su

CR 8

Chaotic Evil Medium Magical Beast

Bestiary 5, pg. 238

Miserable and filled with hate, the Su stalk through thick forests they call home in search of meat and insects to quiet their irritating, mewling young, for whom they hold paradoxical amounts of disgust, envy, and adoration. The disconcertingly humanoid Whelp Family the beasts carry on their back are their own offspring, creatures with immense psychic power but no ability to use it without their parent’s direction. As a Su whelp grows, it gradually changes shape and loses access to its psionic powers, gaining the intelligence needed to use them just as they begin to slip away, something that causes them no end of horrid frustration. By the time they’re an adult, a Su has just enough psionic power to use 100ft of telepathy... and nothing else, relying on the screaming infants that crawl around their bodies--eternal reminders of what they once had but lacked the awareness to appreciate--for psychic defense.

Despite the resentment they may feel for their young, the Whelp Magic they possess is incredibly potent, though the younglings can only use their power as a cudgel with no finesse. Each Whelp (to a maximum of 6) grants their parent 3 points of Psychic Energy (max 18), and they can use these points to cast Id Insinuation II to confuse a single target, Thought Shield II to grant themselves +6 to Will saves against mind-affecting effects (bringing them to a +12 to Will), or most dangerously Mind Thrust III to deal 10d8 typeless damage to any creature with an Intelligence score. What’s worse is that due to the Whelps technically being separate beings than the Su, the parent can command them to use their psionic magic as a swift action even while it’s occupied elsewhere.

Thus it can blast two different targets for 10d8 damage, the same target twice, or inflict confusion on two targets, or any combination of offense. The Whelps can also hold concentration on a spell for their parent, allowing both uses of Id Insinuation stick if it needs them to. Scary! And unfortunately for travelers that may be traipsing through Su territory, the beasts are unable to bring themselves to directly harm their own children... so they tend to take out their fury and annoyance on any Humanoid they see, eager to have an outlet for their negativity. With a +19 to their Stealth while in forests, the ability to climb just as swiftly as they walk (40ft) for added cover, and no obvious components when using their psychic magic, a Su can remain hidden and cause a caravan to attack one another or themselves with Id Insinuation, or simply crumple up the weakest-looking creature it sees with Mind Thrust, leaving everyone else struggling to explain what the hell just happened. Though each spell normally casts 3 PE and thus restricts the Su to 6 casts each day, all of its spells can be undercast, a mechanic that allows a psychic caster to use a lesser version of a spell they know and thus use up less energy. Since there’s little difference between Id Insinuation I and II, the beast may elect to just use the first version for only 2 of its PE, stretching its daily reserve a little further. Mind Thrust II also deals a modest 5d8 damage and costs just 2 PE, though the beasts will rarely opt for less damage.

Should a Su feel confident about entering melee, or if it’s exhausted its PE for the day and is thus forced to, it’s no less dangerous. They possess Pounce and a CCB attack to make full use of it, their claws dealing 1d6+4 damage and their bite 1d8+4. Anyone successfully Grabbed by their bite is not only Raked for 1d6+4 extra damage every round the victim can’t break free, but the Su's tearing teeth also inflict 1d6 bleed damage even if the victims DO get away. Though their swift actions tend to be eaten up by their psychic spells, they can use their Prehensile Tails as a swift action instead to make a steal, disarm, dirty trick, OR trip combat maneuver against an adjacent foe without triggering an AoO, giving them significantly more complex tactics than one would expect against such a bestial creature.

Their DR 10 can only be pierced with magic, so the first order of business is typically to disarm foes that possess magic weapons (or turn such enemies against each other with confusion), though tripping foes so they have to waste time getting back up (robbing them of their Full-Attack) is also viable. Pilfering valuable-looking trinkets and potions and having them off to the Whelps for them to investigate/destroy/use is another reason not to near the mischievous and malicious carnivores while wearing your potion belt. Dirty trick is the most versatile, robbing a target of one of its senses for several rounds or inflicting all manner of negative status ailments... like just whacking some poor soul in the family jewels to sicken them before following it up with a Full-Attack or a Mind Thrust while they’re still reeling. Hey, it’s a dirty trick for a reason! And Su have no desire nor need to fight honorably. They’re here for a meal! ...and to let off some steam.

You can read more about them here. 

[joylinda-hawks]

I know how to get back to my chambers. I can do it myself. You don't have to take me back, big brother. WOH, episode 8, part 6. ZCL is walking up the stairs in the GC estate. One of the sect disciples runs after him and stops the boy. ZCL says that he can handle it himself and doesn't have to be taken back by his big brother. The sect disciple says that it can't be like this and grabs ZCL by the arm and explains that the master said that ZCL is a very important guest. Someone should always accompany ZCL. ZCL asks if he is really a guest or a criminal and pulls his hand out of his grip. The sect disciple is nervous and wants to say something, but GXL's appearance causes him to do nothing. GXL puts the containers of food on the table and approaches the two young men. She asks Xie Wu Yang why he is arguing with ZCL. XWY explains that he only wanted to take ZCL to his chambers, but ZCL doesn't want his company. The girl replies that she understands and tells him to go away because now she will take care of ZCL. When the student leaves, GXL tells ZCL that Yueyang City has been unsettled lately and her father wants ZCL to be safe. She adds that she can't leave either. The girl asks if the boy got scared because her father was speaking anger. She explains that when she gets to know him better, he’ll understand one thing, GC seems to be a cold person but deep down he's a warm person. A regular GC treats everyone very well. This time, GXL grabs ZCL by the arm. ZCL is silent the whole time, wondering what to do and say. The girl leads ZCL to another courtyard where young students train. She explains that the Yueyang Sect is used to a modest life. There are none of the luxuries the boy had at home. GXL says that's why they prepared chambers for him and shows ZCL his rooms. The girl also says that if ZCL needs anything, he should let her know and while saying this, she strokes his hair, which makes the boy feel uncomfortable. Seeing this, the girl quickly withdraws her hand, saying that it's okay and that it's her fault and that she knows that ZCL is not a little boy. ZCL gently smiles when GXL says that he is already an adult. One of the students of the sect runs up to GXL and says hey, that CWN is looking for her. GC's daughter replies that it's okay and she'll take care of it. The student leaves and GXL explains to ZCL that these students are about his age and that he will soon be learning martial arts with them. After a while, she calls all the students and when they come up, she introduces ZCL to them and asks them to take care of him. The students agree to this. GXL hands ZCL a container of food and says that he will be training martial arts here and then leaves immediately. One of the students comments that ZCL won't withstand even one punch. The other confirms this and says that just a few punches and the boy will fall. ZCL does not react to the provocations. Although ZCL seems lost, he is a wise and sensible young boy. He knows perfectly well that when he entered the sect's territory he will be under the control of many people. There is no support here, his father's sworn brothers only want Glazed Armor and they don't care about the rest. GC is trying to make the boy feel guilty. And the sect's disciples don't take their eyes off him. ZCL understands that he has ended up in a golden cage. Only GC's daughter shows him sympathy, but he is unable to trust her. Meeting the younger disciples of the sect shows that his life in this place will not be easy. He knows one thing, that he must survive and learn to be strong. He no longer has support from his family and no one will show him concern. This is the fate of all orphans.

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 15 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

I think I'm freaking out a little... or a lot.

Tomorrow's my birthday... I'll be eighteen... I'll be able to detect my Mate.

'Why am I freaking out? I've been waiting for this forever.'

Frowning at my naked form in the mirror, I turned from side to side before looking down at my groin.

I'm not very big in that department.

'What if I can't satisfy my mate? What if I'm not attractive to him?'

I mean, everyone has always picked on me because I'm a small blond Omega.

They make it seem like those features are unattractive.

What if my mate thinks the same?

I don't have much body hair, my leg and armpit hair is more of a strawberry blond and can't really be seen unless you're looking closely.

Should I shave my legs like my Mom? Maybe I should shave my pubic hair, it's strawberry blond like the hair on my head.

Shrieking, I shifted into my small wolf and took off out of my room.

While I was running down the stairs to the first floor, I tumbled and ended up falling the rest of the way down.

Landing with a thud, I grunted and laid their unmoving for a moment before pushing myself up.

Mom and Dad were in the living room and I went to Mom whimpering.

She looked up from her Kindle and I jumped up on the couch beside her.

I was unconsciously yipping like a young pup for its Mom as I pressed my head against her side.

Dad was watching curiously but I hid my face.

Mom sighed and started running her fingers through my copper fur which had an immediate effect and calmed me down some.

Like in my Human form, I'm not very big... I'm a runt.

My wolf is about as small as a medium sized dog and my fur is still kind of fluffy like a pups.

I looked like a house pet but at least I could curl up on the couch beside Mom as she scratched behind my ears.

She was reading again and I slowly wiggled until I was laying half on her lap so she could scratch my belly... I liked that the most.

My leg involuntarily kicked as she scratched some spots but I didn't mind, it felt good.

I woke a few hours later alone and to the smell of food that made my tummy grumbled.

Slipping off the couch, I went upstairs to my room knowing Mom would yell if I went into her kitchen with my fur.

Shifting and quickly dressing in pajamas, I went back downstairs and found my parents in the kitchen.

They were talking lowly but stopped and looked at me when I entered.

Looking away embarrassed by how I'd acted, I climbed up onto a barstool.

"Hungry?" Mom asked knowingly and I nodded.

"Good, I'm making your favorite since I can't tomorrow."

I frowned at that and looked up.

My birthdays usually weren't happy days for me... especially after all those years mom made me hand out invitations to my whole class.

I'd spend the day on the couch waiting for at least one classmate to show up... no one ever did.

I finally got the nerve when I was eleven to tell mom I didn't want to celebrate my birthday anymore.

So we compromised and mom decided she'd make me a birthday dinner with only immediate family.

"Don't look at me like that. I have to be at the pack house tomorrow, the Alpha is having guest from another pack for dinner."

"What? Why?" I asked, curious.

The Alpha doesn't just allow anyone on his territory, it'd have to be someone important.

"Who?"

Mom shrugged and I looked at Dad who pretended not to notice.

"It doesn't matter, you're going to stay away," she said, looking up to glare at me.

They must be really important... maybe another Alpha?

"Yes ma'am," I said after realizing she was waiting for a response.

"Now, are you going to tell us what that was about earlier?"

I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned.

"Nothing," I said lowly.

"Sit up and answer your mother."

I did as Dad said and sighed.

"It was nothing. I was just being stupid."

It was stupid of me to worry about my Mate not liking me, even if he doesn't, he's stuck with me for life.

"Just... I was just thinking about tomorrow."

Mom looked up from the noodles she was boiling, a smile stretching across her face.

"Thinking about your Mate weren't you?" she giggled excitedly and I looked at her weirdly.

"Any idea who it could be?"

I shrugged and Dad laughed.

"There's someone you'd like it to be," Dad said knowingly, making my face burn.

Before they could gang up on me, the front door opened and they both sniffed before looking at each other.

Clearly speaking through their bond link.

I didn't smell anything but I heard two sets of footsteps and I dreaded the thought of Robert being with him.

I didn't want to see him at all and was about to get up and run upstairs to hide until Calvin entered the kitchen.

That dark haired female I remembered from the fair following closely behind.

"Calvin," Mom said putting on a fake smile.

"Who's your friend?"

Calvin seemed hesitant before he grabbed the female's hand and pulled her to his side.

My eyes widened in surprise as I got an idea of where this was going.

"Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you."

'Oh this was not going to go good... Mom lost her smile as if knowing this too.'

"This is Carmen, my girlfriend."

Calvin looked down at the female and then back to our parents.

"And she's pregnant... with my pup."

[minkmousesworld]

But what I miss more Mousie!! ;; Is lovely raccoon dog Tanjiro ;;; I miss our lovely lil pup

Raccoon dog Tanjiro who steps into the territory of a very sneaky fox. His parents always reminding him to never go far inside the forest, because there lurks beings that is stronger....and sly.

Tanjiro who didn't realize he entered an shrine, that houses a kitsune that is hungry. Maybe little Tanjiro should have listened to his parents warnings, but all those concerns slipped his mind...

With the way how this kitsune gently touches him, but has such a possessive feeling. The way how the kitsune carefully bites him, claiming the trembling raccoon dog underneath them.

So tender and gentle, yet so painfully close. The way it promises it to take care of him, to make sure he carries their puppies and to keep the bad monsters away from him and their puppies.

Tanjiro is just very happy that he ignored the warnings <333

- kitsune anon

#note: lately whenever I hear "raccoon dog tanjirou" I feel like saying I know what to do with him and I'm sure you honeymice know it too <3 'thank you' for our foxking again♡♡♡

warnings... interspecies relationship, predator/prey dynamic, power imbalance, mention of pregnancy, mention of killing; a bit of a confused narrative

dub-con, sex with a stranger, mention of mating season, heavy petting, rough treatment (biting / marking, scratching), talk about puppies, breeding implied [penetration giving?], very light size kink

raccoon dog! tanjirou kamado x kitsuhe! reader

The young usually die in the first winter; unable to find shelter and stock up on food in time — or untimely crawled out of a hole and found themselves in the claws of eternally wandering and hungry predators. This was not a sad event, but a fact.

However, those who manage to survive hibernation can call themselves adults, ready to create their own nest. It was a "selection" in which the most adaptable survive, and Tanjirou doesn't want to sound cocky, but he is confident that he will survive. He must survive — his family is waiting to hear from him after the winter. They expect him to survive and create a nest... but they do not guess where exactly he plans to start a family. Even deeper in the forest, even closer to the heart — where, according to rumors, the ever-blooming spring, warm summer and well-fed autumn.

Maybe he's overconfident, but somehow he's confident that can find this place.

If he wants the best for his puppies, then he must go even further — to where his parents asked him not to go, no matter what the cost. The deeper, the more dangerous. There are dangerous and wild animals, there are ugly monsters, there are poisonous plants, there is everything that protects the heart of the forest from any unexpected guest. What's left of the ancestors who tried to hide something there — or someone.

Everything that lives only to kill everyone who is reckless or too brave, feeding their heart with blood.

... But Tanjirou's goal, however, was not the heart — of course, he is brave, but not to this extent! He just wants to have a nest in a nicer place, warmer and full of food. Able to shelter from rain, snow, thunderstorms. Which will fit both him and his mate, and their puppies. Dry, warm and full. It's not too much or greedy, right? He had heard that there must be a lot of abandoned burrows of those who had not returned, so it shouldn't be such a problem.

This is a rule of nature: in order to survive, they must be able to bite, pinch, scratch and growl. If he wants to come back, then he has to be ready to fight. If he wants to find a mate, then he must be strong. If he wants to have a family, he must be able to be aggressive. If he continues to be so gentle and gentle, he won't survive. And he understood that.

Tanjirou just couldn't not.

hot.

it's too hot.

his heart is beating so hard that he does not know if is still conscious or not — the claws burn the skin with a light touch. they almost gently descend on his bare chest, but he knows that the slightest movement and he will be dead.

and he shouldn't react so excitedly.

but it's too hot. it's too wet. too rough.

too too too

“A-ah-H!”

it really shouldn't have been like that. parents did not say that everything would be like this. are some predators so cunning? he didn't even know anyone was there- no, more precisely, he knew that someone was here, but it smelled so sweet and gentle that he couldn't help but-

is this an ambush? but don't predators ambush outside?

is this the predator living at the heart of the forest?

“S-sorry!.. Sorry- I'm sorry! I-”

it was just an old structure- he just wanted to see! he didn't mean that he was attacking, or that he wanted to attack, or that he was eager to fight-

“P-please...”

everything inside him burns, as if his skin is scratched and immediately licked.

when their paw rests on his chest and draws lines, then caressing his cheek, then going down to his stomach, as if looking for where to start — but he can't resist.

when his tail can't stop moving and his cheeks burn so much — not because he's scared, but because- because he's so ashamed that he feels so good.

when they squeeze him like a toy,

or coo something,

looking into his eyes with their predatory glittering, and he can only whine, pressing his ears to his head, as if they see through him — he will never recover from these sensations... if they let him go...

... why did he feel even more excited?

When you gently purr "what a sweet one got into temple" — hmm, what should you do with him, eat him or let him go, and raccoon dog only whines plaintively, trying to squeeze his hips together, like a trapped rabbit, not even trying to resist you and your claws.

Fragile and warm, like a small ember that has climbed into your lonely shelter; so small compared to you, especially when you force him to spread his legs, and he moans, obediently spreading thighs before belatedly trying to bring them together again. His body shudders so charmingly when he realizes how indecent looks, lying in front of you, so sensitive and open, but obediently letting you bend lower to his ruddy, wet face, as if he has a fever — he smells so sweet and sexually excited, as if in heat.

What a lecherous prey you've come across this time.

“What do you think happens to the cute ones when they climb into the shelter with a fox during the mating season?”

“I — ha! — d- on't kno-now...”

His hips are trembling — they tremble so sweetly, even when you leave marks on his neck and shoulders to make sure that he will not forget about what happened even after a month. And he accepts them so obediently and well, as if he was born to be bitten by you. Would he accept your puppies as well if you decided to breed him? So gentle and sensitive, surely he would make such cute moans while you fill him up — tiny and defenseless in front of you, how much would he be able to take until he loses consciousness? What would his body be like if you gave him your cubs?

... You don't have to flirt. These are just threats. Of course, you are above breeding all sorts of cute ones just because they are like that-

“I g-guess they... they give the cute on-nes their puppies?... So, shouldn-n't you g- give them to m- me— t-too?”

His tail twitches so sharply and excitedly that it almost hits the tip against you, but for some reason you just freeze, looking at how he excitedly licks his lips before continuing.

“... Or... Or you can't?”

he doesn't have time to say a feigned nervous "poor thing".

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

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     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[bangtan]

BTS Shares Message Of Hope For The Future Generation, Performs “Permission To Dance” At The United Nations

On September 20 local time, BTS and South Korean President Moon Jae In spoke at the Sustainable Development Goals Moment (SDG Moment) at the 76th session of the United Nations General Assembly.

This was BTS’s first official event after being officially appointed special presidential envoys by President Moon Jae In last week.

At the SDG Moment, the BTS members spoke from the perspective of young people living through the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic and shared a message of hope for the future.

RM said, “We are here today to share the stories of the future generation. Before we came here, we asked young people in their teens and 20s around the world about the past two years and about the world they’re living in today.” Jin said, “There were times during the past two years when we too felt confused and troubled. But here, there are people who cry out, ‘Let’s live on, let’s live the best of this moment.'” Jimin continued, “They couldn’t just stand still during this time of their lives. There was no one we could blame. We were the same as we were yesterday, but the world had changed like we had suddenly entered a parallel world.”

Jungkook said, “We were saddened to hear the news of entrance and graduation ceremonies being canceled. It is upsetting to lose the moments that should be celebrated moments in one’s life. As for us, we were disappointed to have to cancel the concert tour that we had prepared for so long, and for a long time we missed the moments that we wanted to complete.” Suga said, “We needed time to mourn for the things that we lost to COVID-19, and time to discover how precious the moments that we took for granted were.”

Jimin showed the results of BTS’s #youthtoday campaign that they ran on social media, where people would send in photos of their precious moments. He said, “There were many people who showed themselves in nature. It seems that for the past two years, the time that we spent in nature felt more special.”

J-Hope referred to environmental issues when he said, “We just spoke about mourning, but it’s hard to even think about the mourning for the Earth. Everyone agrees that climate change is an important problem, but it’s not easy to talk about what the best solution might be.”

RM added, “While we were preparing to come here today, we learned that there are many young people who are taking an interest in environmental issues and that there are many students who have taken this on as their field of study. The future is unexplored territory, and we will be the ones who spend the most time in it, so I think that these young people are trying to find for themselves the ways that we can live in it.”

V continued, “I hope we don’t consider the future as nothing but darkness. We have people who are concerned for the world and are searching for the answers. There are still many pages left in the story about us, so I hope we don’t just talk about it like the ending is already written.” Jungkook added, “Sometimes the world seems stopped in place even if we’re ready to go. Sometimes it feels like you’ve lost your way. There were times when we felt the same way.”

RM continued, “I have heard people in their teens and 20s now are called the ‘COVID lost generation.’ It means that at a time when they need the most opportunities and challenges, they’ve lost their way. But just because adults cannot see the road for themselves, it doesn’t mean that they’ve lost their way.”

Jimin shared photos of students who have continued their studies and activities despite the pandemic and said, “In online spaces, they have continued to meet with their friends in new ways, started learning new things, and have tried to live more healthy lives. Rather than looking lost, they’ve found new courage and are taking on new challenges.”

Jin said, “Therefore, I think that instead of the ‘lost generation,’ the ‘welcome generation’ is a more appropriate name. Instead of being afraid of change, this generation says ‘welcome’ as they walk forward into the future.” RM said, “If we continue to believe in possibility and hope, we will not lose our way but discover new ones.” Suga added, “We will not always make perfect choices, but that will not mean that there is nothing we can do.”

J-Hope said, “What’s important are the choices we make when faced with change. Upon the news of us coming to the UN, many people wondered whether we had been vaccinated. I will take this opportunity to say that all seven of us have been vaccinated.” RM went on, “Vaccination was like the ticket for meeting our fans and being able to stand here today. Just like we said today, we too are doing the things that we’re able to do right now.”

V said, “Like the vaccination efforts, people are continuing to work on moving this new reality forward. I believe the day that we can meet face-to-face is not far away. I hope that until that day comes, we can continue to fill each day with positive energy.” RM concluded, “We thought that the world had stopped, but it continues to move forward. I believe that each choice is the beginning of change, not the end. I hope that in this new world, we can all say to each other, ‘Welcome.'”

BTS then shared a video performance of the group performing “Permission to Dance” at the United Nations General Assembly.

Source (1) (2)

[baku-bowl]

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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

Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart. 

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?" 

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

Or

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

Or

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

[waveypedia]

The Family We Make

Companion piece to Leaving the Nest (can be read in any order)

Ao3

After Bradford is defeated, it takes hours for the adrenaline of the day to wear off.

Fenton calls his mother, who brings half of Duckburg’s police force over much sooner than should be humanly possible. Any questioning stares are met with amused shrugs and Gyro’s passionate declaration to never get between Officer M.A.M.A. Cabrera and her son. Spoken from experience, of course. Officer Cabrera’s officers and the superheroes present arrest FOWL’s goons. (Pepper gives May and June goodbye hugs.) 

The villains are gone, of course, having split with the help of Magica’s sorcery and a harmless raven on her shoulder. They’d left with winks and playful smiles tossed over their shoulders. Almost friendly, but not quite. Familiar. The promises of future tussles and battles left unsaid in the desert air. No one says anything outright, but the villains’ smooth departure puts a smile on everyone’s faces. It’s the promise of a next time. Of countless adventures to come. Bradford, for all his meticulous and careful planning, lost.

Goldie steals Manny away to ride into the nearest town and comes back with a cooler of snacks. Uncle Scrooge - Dad (Dad!) - and Granny level their fiercest glares at her and pointedly ask if she paid for them. Goldie giggles behind her hand and avoids the question, dropping a packaged ice cream cone in Dewey’s hands. He lights up, and Dad melts just like the ice cream under the hot desert sun.

Webby, sitting blissfully between Dad and Granny, has a perfect view of their conversation with Goldie. She keeps shooting Webby weird looks, like she isn’t quite sure what to make of her. Honestly, Webby doesn’t really blame her. Webby has always been Granny’s granddaughter through and through, and she inherited Granny’s disdain for Goldie and protectiveness of Dad. 

Webby leans against Dad, and he puts an arm around her. Steady and protective, although she can feel his heart fluttering in his chest. He’s exhausted too - he went through perhaps the most today, at least physically. They’re both too tired to speak, at least right now, but they’re content enough to be in each others’ presence. 

Dewey leads the other kids to the ice cream, and they wave her over. Gosalyn passes a cone to her, and Huey hands her a napkin. She sits sandwiched between Boyd and June, eating ice cream on the ramp of the plane. Violet is holding Lena’s cone because Lena is busy weaving friendship bracelets for May and June.

Webby glances back to where Dad and Granny have set up camp. Members of their family are filtering through, offering assistance and comfort. Donald’s leading a team to fix the plane, and Ludwig is bringing a group through FOWL’s headquarters like a tour guide, to pick up any evidence and missing mysteries. Gyro is off to the side, painstakingly fixing Boyd’s body and the Gizmosuit, with Della hovering over his shoulder and making snarky remarks he pretends to be bothered by.

Soon they’ll be in the air, and she still hasn’t talked to Dad. Really talked to him.

Fear starts to pool in Webby’s gut. He seemed to take it well enough, but that was in the middle of the fight. What if he doesn’t want to be her father? What if this changes her relationship with her other family members?

Webby squeezes her cone so hard it cracks and melted ice cream spills onto her hand.

Why should a piece of parchment, magic or not, decide her family, when she’s spent years cultivating and choosing the perfect family of her own? For better or for worse?

A familiar hand waves in front of her face, green sleeves flapping in the slight breeze, and Webby jumps, startled. Her family, no longer contentedly eating their ice cream, are all staring at her with varying degrees of worry.

“Hey, Webs?” Louie blinks at her and shoves his hands back in the pocket. “You were kinda spacing out there.”

Webby shakes herself back into the present and grins sheepishly at him. “Sorry. What’s up?”

Louie jerks a thumb inside the plane. “Mom just came by. We’re about ready to start heading back. Reinforcements just got here, and they’re going to take everyone else home.”

Webby blinks and casts a quick glance around the desert, cultivated by years of spy training and adventuring. Della is indeed a few paces away, talking to Launchpad, next to the broken plane wing looking as good as new. On the other side of the plane, Amunet and D’jinn are talking to Goldie and Storkules as they enter Gladstone’s blimp. The desert is clearing out, and those who haven’t already left are busy packing up any supplies. 

Dad and Granny amble over with the rest of the adults into the plane. Dad stops in front of them, placing his cane on the ground with a clink and folding his hands over it. He’s smiling, tired but fond. His eyes rest on Webby for a moment longer than everyone else before moving on. 

“All ready, kids?” Dad asks, his beak quirking up in a familiar cocky smirk, and something fond settles in Webby’s gut.

“Ready,” she replies firmly with the rest of them, smiling, and enters the plane, ignoring her growing nervousness. She’s with her family now. She’s safe.

--

When they’re all safe and settled in the belly of the Sunchaser once again,  after Launchpad’s little snafu with the emergency hatch release, Webby seeks Dad out.

He’s sitting in the seat closest to the cockpit, talking with Aunt Daisy. Webby’s full to bursting with nervous energy, but, as she knows, it’s all for naught. His face lights up when he sees Webby coming. Aunt Daisy, as savvy and clever as she is, gives Webby a fond, knowing smile and slips away with a pat on Dad’s knee and a ruffle of Webby’s hair.

Hesitantly, Webby jumps into Aunt Daisy’s chair and maneuvers herself to face Dad. She busies herself for a few moments by fidgeting with her friendship bracelet.

Dad rearranges himself to face Webby, too. “What can I do for you, lass?” he asks, but she can tell from his tone he already knows where this conversation is going.

“So. Um.” Webby tugs at the hem of her skirt, bunching it up in her fists and hurriedly smoothing it out again. “Dad.”

“Dad,” he repeats, his voice full of wonder and amazement. A small smile tugs at his grin, threatening to burst and split his face.

“Can we talk?” Webby asks nervously. Her voice breaks a little on the word talk, and Dad noticeably winces.

“Of course,” he replies, awkward and stilted. “Go ahead.”

“Well…” Webby stares down at her skirt, then back up at Dad with glassy eyes. “Do you love me?”

Dad jerks, shocked. It’s clear that of all her questions, he certainly wasn’t expecting that one.

“Like a daughter,” Webby clarifies. “Do you love me like a daughter?”

Dad’s face changes, softens. It’s unreadable, but not unkind. 

“Of course,” he replies softly.

Webby flinches and glances to the side, at the wall of the plane. Anywhere but Dad’s face. She tries to hide her discomfort, but it’s clear he notices.

“Do you… not want me to?” he tries.

Webby shakes her head. “Of course I do,” she replies softly.

“Then why…” he trails off. He has a million clauses he could finish the sentence with, but they all hang heavy in the air between them, unsaid.

Webby can’t look at him. “I… I don’t want you to only love me because I’m your daughter,” she replies. Her voice breaks on the word daughter. “I want you to love me because I’m me.”

“Webbigail Vanderquack.” Dad stares at her incredulously. “I paid full price for your birthday party. And it was only a front! How can you think I don’t love you?!”

A shocked giggle bursts out of Webby. After a moment, Dad joins her in his own giggling fit.

“I know you love me,” Webby replies quietly after their giggles have died down. Dad’s smile sags, and his expression turns serious and forlorn. “But it’s not the same. I- I know I’ve always been Granny’s granddaughter. It’s a little different. I love you, but I hate that we’re family because a missing mystery said so, and not because we love each other.”

Dad’s expression softens. “Oh, lassie.” He opens his arms, and Webby crawls into his embrace without a second thought.

Dad smooths her hair and tucks his chin onto her head. “Did you know,” he says, his voice muffled by the embrace, “that technically, May and June are my daughters too?”

Webby’s eyes burn. “Hmm?”

“Aye,” Dad continues. “If you were made from my DNA, and May and June were made from yours, then they’re a part of me too. Maybe they’re more like my granddaughters, but the point stands.”

Webby buries her face further into Dad’s coat and doesn’t respond. She’s not sure how too.

“Point being, May and June are my family, and I will treat them as such. I’m sure they’re marvelous young girls, and lovely sisters for you, my dear.”

Dad shifts his embrace so he can see her face. He holds her gaze with a steady and serious look.

“But they’re not my daughters. You, Webby darlin’, are. Do you know why?”

Webby shakes her head.

Dad hugs her tighter. “Because you always have been,” he replies, his voice thick, and oh. “Maybe not with that exact label, but, as Lena would say, labels are weird. You’re my family. You’re one of my kids. I know you, and I love you, Webby darlin’.”

“I… I know I didn’t make the effort to get to know you when you were young,” Dad continues. “I will be the first to admit I regret that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to family. But I’ve had the honor of watching you grow these past years, and of being your family. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Webby nods. She knows they’re both thinking of earlier that day, when Scrooge’s declaration was put to the test, and won, but only narrowly. He doesn’t make that statement lightly.

Dad shifts, and his embrace loosens. His expression turns troubled and almost… nervous? It scares Webby by osmosis, but a part of her that she hasn’t processed yet thinks it’s comforting that he’s just as scared as she is. It’s new territory for both of them, but they’ll conquer it together.

“Webby, lass,” Dad begins, hesitantly. “Do you… not want me to be your father?”

Webby hums thoughtfully. Out of all the questions that had arisen in the wake of the Papyrus’ reveal, she hadn’t directly considered this one. It had been at the back of her mind, waiting, lingering.

Despite the lack of deliberation time, Webby knows the answer. She’s always known it, from the moment Bradford had confirmed her ancestry.

“Yes,” she says confidently, so firmly that it startles Dad. “It’s like you said. You’re my family, and that didn’t change.”

Dad’s face softens, and his shoulders slump with relief, and his grin threatens to split his face. Webby grins back, a mirror of his own.

“But,” she continues. “I… I like calling you Uncle Scrooge, too. It feels right to call myself your daughter, but it also feels right to call myself your niece. Does… is that okay? Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Dad replies, shifting his arms. “I think I know how you feel. You are my daughter, and my niece. You’re one of my kids, and that will never change.”

He smiles wryly. “I do like having this special connection to you, though, lass. I have many heirs, but you’re the heir of Clan McDuck. That’s not something to take lightly. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve never had a father,” she says after a minute. “Granny told me about a father, and a mother, too, but I never really knew them. But I’ve always had you.”

“Aye, Blaise,” Dad replies. “Your so-called ‘mother’ was your grandmother’s niece, if I remember correctly. Arianna. She and Blaise were sweet, if a bit airheaded, from what your grandmother’s told me. They were in a car crash shortly before you were bo- before your grandmother brought you home.”

Webby hums. “I didn’t know they were real.”

“Aye, they were very real,” Dad confirms. “As I’m sure Louie or Goldie will tell you, the best lies are closest to the truth. I’m sure they would love you, dear.”

“I don’t know them,” Webby counters softly. She tilts her head back to look Dad in the eyes. “I never will. But I know you.”

He beams at her. “Exactly, lassie.”

Webby shifts back into his embrace, and they sit together for a minute, the plane’s rumblings shaking them both slightly. 

“Does this mean Goldie is my mom now?” Webby asks suddenly, her beak quirking into a grin.

Dad startles and squawks. “Ack, no! I know Louie calls her Aunt Goldie, for all the blasted- but now. Er, I suppose, that’s up to you, lassie,” he finishes somewhat awkwardly.

Webby smiles contentedly and leans her cheek against the fabric of his coat. “That’s okay,” she replies. “It’s my family and I get to choose the members.”

Dad grins proudly, and they lapse back into silence for another few minutes. The adrenaline, both from the harrowing events of the day and the nerve-wracking yet highly anticipated conversation with dad, slips out of her veins, and the heaviness of sleep tugs at Webby’s eyes.

Dad eventually breaks the drowsy, comfortable silence. “I’m proud to call you my daughter.” he murmurs into her hair, and Webby beams. “I’m proud you’re my family, not because that blasted Papyrus says so, but because you chose me. That means more to me than all the money in my Money Bin.”

Webby snuggles deeper into his embrace, her eyelids drifting closed. “Likewise, Dad. I love you.”

He smooths her hair down. The last thing she hears before she falls asleep, blissful and safe, is: “I love you too, Webby darlin’.”

~

god i. finale came out today and anyone who’s talked to me can verify that i’ve been in constant Duck Mode all day. head full only ducks. i’ve been struggling with motivation lately (as always lmao) but it struck today in the form of my absolute favorite dynamic in the entire show.

if you were in my circles back in 2018, around when confidential casefiles aired, you might remember that i talked a lot about webby and scrooge. i remember requesting them in almost every writing prompt request i was offered. i don’t talk about them much nowaways, and i’m not sure why, because i still love them. regardless of how you feel about the twist in the finale, the pure, unconditional love that webby and scrooge show each other makes me so, so happy. I almost added a section with beakley, because she's an important part of webby's family as well and they need to have a conversation, but webby and scrooge needed their moment. i'll write it later.

this is a bit of trying to make sense of how the theme of found and chosen family fits in with webby’s new biological relation to scrooge and a bit closure. scrooge isn’t the best at having these important conversations, but webby’s pretty good at sticking up for herself when need be.

arianna and blaise are actually based on my OC versions of webby’s parents i made a long, long time ago! arianna was a shush-turned-fowl agent, and blaise was a fowl technician. my plan for them was that they were working for fowl (which was, at the time, based on darkwing duck’s fowl) and eventually, they both cut ties and became freelance villains in st. canard and duckburg. the duck family would fight them, they’d recognize webby and beakley, and the truth would come out. the arianna and blaise mentioned here aren’t my old versions of them, but i wanted to pay tribute to that little picture webby had on her board of her parents. i figured they had to be someone, especially since the woman looked a lot like beakley. my headcanon is that they really were a librarian and an artist, and that beakley raised webby in their images as a tribute to the family she’d lost. also, it didn’t come up in the fic, but blaise is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns!

when watching and rewatching the finale and watching gifs of it, something that struck me was how awestruck and euphoric scrooge acted when he found out. i think most of us focused on webby’s reaction, and beakley’s, but man, scrooge gets so quietly emotional and it means everything to me. this is basically a love letter to that quiet joy, scrooge and webby’s relationship, webby’s beautiful relationship with family, the finale, and ducktales as a whole. i love this goddamn show, and i’m going to miss it so much. see you, space cowboy.

[the12thnightproject]

Dear Kitsune and O.E.D, There was an adorable fox pup who appeared in my garden, and, like any good person, I fed the hungry pup. Since the pup appeared to be quite skinny, I assumed that it did not have a mother, so every time the pup came around, I continued to feed it. Big mistake. It started with one, but then more fox pups showed up. Even some adult foxes started to show in my yard, and they all are making a big mess, and ruining my garden! As if that wasn’t bad enough, every time I go to scold one of them, they just flop on their backs, bushy tail wagging, and make this peculiar sound as if they are laughing at me! I beseech of you, how do I get these foxes to leave my garden in peace? They are too adorable to exterminate, so that is not an option for me. The foxes also get into spats with the resident cat and weasel, and I fear one day it will get out of hand. -Disgruntled monk (Anon request)

Dear K, er DM,

I must commend you for providing sustenance for the hungry fox pup. The average person cannot tell the difference between a true vulpine, or a young shape-shifter. It is best to err on the side of caution, lest you end up on the wrong side of a Kitsune some time in the future.

Although the Kitsune has no specific information as to the provenance of your own garden tourists (none at all), given the above information do you want to risk antagonizing a being inclined to someday return the favor? Consider. One day you may be traveling through enemy territory, only to be led into a swamp by a beacon of foxfire. Or, perhaps the Kitsune will enter your hideout while you are away, and steal your weapons. A Kitsune bent on revenge, might enter your mind via a dream, possess your loved ones, or even bend time and space around you.

If the above does not frighten you, consider the following. Wouldn’t you prefer to have a garden full of adorable, friendly creatures, to a field of dull, uninteresting vegetables? Keep your resident animals safely inside, where they, and you, will be treated to days of entertainment.

The decision should be simple.

The Kitsune

Postscript: Who keeps a weasel as a pet, yet objects to foxes in the garden? Among other things, the Kitsune questions your taste.

Postscript the second: For that matter, who keeps a tiger as a pet, yet objects to foxes in the garden? O.E.D…  the Kitsune questions your sanity.

Curious about the O.E.D.'s opinion? Go to @lorei-writes to find out what he had to say.