#they originally started off as an au but oh...... i fear they may end up becoming canon at this rate

[arklay]

a lesson in temperance.

pairing: diana afanasyeva x alex wesker words: 6.5k warnings: nsfw, mild degradation [read on ao3]

Vanilla and orange blossom. So heady, so sweet, as it swam out of the bathroom and filled the air surrounding Alex. She couldn’t help but breathe it in, wishing to be closer to the cause, to really smell all that lived on her partner’s skin; where jasmine thrived on her neck, down her chest and to her wrists, laced with gardenia and sandalwood.

Alex hummed to herself, directing her mind back on task when the loud whir of the hairdryer ripped her from her thoughts. She leaned down and plucked a small box from the back of her bedside drawer.

Wrapped in a pale blue silk ribbon, the little black box contained a surprise for only one other set of eyes to see, and that made her shiver in anticipation. She could already imagine the look she would receive. An amused laugh, or a pointed glare. Perhaps both. And that only served to encourage her plan for the day.

In only a few strides she stood before the bathroom, eyes landing on Diana clad only in a towel with the cause of that incessant noise in one hand and a comically large round brush in the other. So focused she was in tackling the thick, dark strands, it was as if Alex didn’t exist. Only when the blonde chuckled, low and velvety, did her eyes dart over to the doorway, and not a second later, the press of a button granted them silence.

Diana lowered the hairdryer and brush, discarding them on the counter as her eyes roamed over Alex. From the smug smirk painted on red lips, to the small box cradled in adorned fingers, she could only wonder what her partner was up to this time.

“Do I want to know what that is?” she asked, the jest hardly hiding the curiosity that clung to it.

Alex let out another rich, breathy sound, rounding the apples of her cheeks. The raised brow and inquisitive stare was already a reward in and of itself for her. But not enough.

She walked into the stifling room – no matter how many times she told Diana to turn on the fan, she never would – and closed the distance between them. Then, her forefinger began a slow, methodical trace of the top edge of the box, drawing Diana’s gaze for but a moment.

“You didn’t really think I would forget about last night, did you?” That earned a dramatic roll of blue eyes, followed by an amused grin. One that deepened the indents on her cheeks so deliciously. But she didn’t speak, only locking her eyes onto Alex’s and letting her continue. “Punishment is in order.”

“Can’t win your forgiveness through your stomach anymore, can I?”

Alex pursed her lips, drawing her brows inward in a look of mock sympathy. Then she lazily shook her head. “No.”

The breakfast she had made her was quite sweet, but it didn’t make up for the fact that Diana had come last night before Alex had given her permission to. She had been far too lenient in the past it seemed, because this behaviour only appeared to continue. Although, it did bring about a warm glow beneath Alex’s breast at how much Diana got off on pleasing her.

With her partner’s attention drawn so close, hanging on in anticipation, Alex closed two fingers around the ribbon to direct her gaze. A gentle pull and it came free. Yet she lingered, grasping the lid and doing no more, and Diana’s eyes raised to meet hers. It was almost desperate, the look in them. How much she wished to know exactly what was in store for her.

She finally opened the box. Letting the lid sit back on her palm, she plucked a bullet-shaped toy from pale blue satin. Diana wet her lips as she stared at the silver between her pinched fingers, and Alex turned it slightly. As if to show her more. As if Diana wasn’t already well aware of what it was.

“You, my sweet,” Alex drawled in velvet, smooth enough to make Diana almost drop to her knees right then and there, “are going to wear this all day for me.” At the flutter of dark lashes over half-lidded eyes, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice even more. “And… you are not allowed to come.”

The sharp inhale told Alex all she needed to know.

When Diana leaned back on one hip and crossed her arms, it did little to hide the effect she had on her. Even with the teasing smile pulling at her lips, the promise of challenge, arousal warmed porcelain cheeks and reduced blue to barely a thin line around blown pupils.

And yet Diana still raised a brow in defiance. “And if I do?”

Alex let out a heavy sigh. “I asked myself that many times. What should I do if you were to once again disobey me?” She tilted her head slightly to the side, clicking her tongue. “Would I procure a chastity belt, of all things? Would I confiscate all of your toys until further notice?” Diana shifted, opening her mouth as if to protest, but Alex only went on. “Would I have you scrub the place top to bottom? But no. None of that would suffice.” She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, before releasing. “For a whole month, you will not be permitted to touch me. In any form.”

A loud laugh of disbelief left Diana as she threw her head back. Thinking it a joke was her first mistake; Alex’s eyes narrowed and her jaw set, emphasising the sincerity in her claim. That seemed to do it.

Diana lifted one of her crossed arms and scratched above her lip, looking down her nose as she seemed to be processing the severity of such a punishment. Then, she abruptly extended said arm and held out her hand in acceptance, meeting Alex’s gaze once more. “A month is absurd.”

Never one to back down, her Diana.

Alex let a soft smile pull on her lips, not quite an apology for the past harshness of her tone, and she placed the bullet in her partner’s palm. Her lashes fluttered again at the brush of Alex’s fingertips against her soft skin, but she regained herself just as quickly.

“Well then, you should start being more grateful and less greedy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Diana replied while rolling the bullet up to the tips of her fingers.

One hand brought the silver to her lips, while the other parted her towel, and Alex found herself rather conflicted in where to direct her attention. Ultimately, her gaze settled on Diana’s face when the hand at her hip did no more than rest at the opening she created. Wet, rosy lips parted then ever so slowly closed around the toy. She still held onto the end with her fingertips. Alex watched as her cheeks hollowed while her tongue swirled, and she couldn’t prevent the warmth blooming at her hips even if she tried.

Her gaze wandered from her lips to her jaw, then down the elegant column of her throat. A droplet sat in the dip between her collarbones. Countless others littered her chest, but one took Alex’s attention more than the rest. It rolled down damp skin at a tantalisingly slow pace, until its journey was interrupted by the towel at her breast.

The movement of Diana’s arm brought her back to her senses, though she did find herself wishing to lean in and kiss over the peak that bobbed as Diana swallowed. Or lick the droplets from her skin. But all that followed was her lover’s hand lowering to the part in her towel before she slipped the toy easily inside herself.

Their eyes met again, and Alex offered a pleased smile her way. She all but purred, “Good girl.”

Her own hand disappeared into her pocket, and she pulled out a device not too dissimilar to her phone. One of Diana’s brows quirked at that. It wasn’t the typical remote control she was used to seeing in her past, and little did she know Alex had far more freedom with one such as this.

“I’ll be able to monitor your pleasure at all times with this,” she said, barely flashing the screen her way so Diana could take a look while she ensured the toy was connected. Satisfied, a rather wicked curl pulled at the corner of crimson lips. “Do remember, I will know if you’ve taken it out. And that will warrant further consequences.”

Diana gave her a slow nod, long past accepting what was to come, and opened her mouth to speak, but Alex had already turned on her heel, pocketed the device and left the bathroom. She could only laugh to herself at that, the notion that anything she had to say, or do, was all but irrelevant.

Not even a kiss this morning.

It was already past lunch and Diana had been at the edge of her seat all morning, wondering – waiting for – when Alex would turn the vibrator on. The possibility that she had forgotten about it altogether, swept up in her work, or by some new problem one of the researchers had brought to her attention, was entirely out of the question.

Diana knew the only explanation was that Alex wanted this.

She wanted her to sweat a little. To grow restless. To wait for the other shoe to drop and wish to be free of such suspense. That, in itself, was as much a punishment as what was truly in store for her.

And it worked.

For the third time in this report alone, Diana crossed out what she was in the middle of writing. More like violently scribbled over, in this instance; her pent-up frustration pressed the pen harder and carried the strike over innocent sentences, free of mistakes. Whether it was her cadence, a misspelt word, or merely a letter looking wrong, Diana was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her head.

With a heavy sigh, she freed the paper from her clipboard and crumbled it up into a ball, merely discarding it beside herself. It was ridiculous she was letting this get under her skin so much. Maybe she had been too eager for the challenge, holding herself to such high standards in wanting to prove Alex wrong – that she wouldn’t break from a little toy. But she had not accounted for this.

Diana brought a new sheet before her and slotted it into position. All of a sudden, the toy came to life. Her fingers fell free of the clip, letting it snap, and her mouth hung open of its own accord. The slow, rhythmic pulse was actually relieving.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sank into her chair, pressing her thighs together on instinct. She would get back to their little game in a moment, but for now… For now, she needed to feel it.

It wasn’t one of her wisest decisions. Her mind wandered back to that morning, to the feeling of Alex’s hot breath on her skin when she whispered in her ear; the way she had purred praise sent a shiver down Diana’s spine, tingling across every nerve and stoking the warmth at its base. A hand lifted, found its way to her chest and simply lay there, fingertips either side of her neck, ghosting over the spot her lover had teased.

The pulse between her legs switched to a soft continuous vibration, pulling her back to the present. A slow exhale escaped parted lips.

If she truly wanted to get through this, she had to find some semblance of focus. There were actual stakes this time around. If that lack of a kiss before work was a taste of what she was in for, for an entire month, she might just lose her mind.

They may have spent long stretches of time away from one another in the past, on opposite ends of the globe, but that would be nothing compared to this. To live with Alex, to see her, and smell her, day in, day out, and not be able to do so much as press against her… To have to sleep beside her and stop their legs from brushing, pass her in the bathroom or the kitchen and not catch her hand or lean in for a kiss. That was torture.

She could get through this stupid little test. Or else a pillow wall may have to be built. Even worse, she would sleep on the couch and avoid her partner until one of them cracked.

Deep breaths, Diana. Slow, deep breaths.

It was much easier to try and ignore the toy nestled inside her with this setting. Diana was determined to show Alex that not only could she control herself, but she would excel in her work while at it. The discarded report was rewritten and completed, with not a flaw in sight. Not even the couple of times Alex had switched back to the gentle pulsing could put an end to that. She proofread it, not once, but twice, and analysed her next set of data from another experiment. It was, in all honesty, a rather remarkable motivator. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to keep her composure.

Or so she thought.

Diana swivelled around in her chair to reach for the stack of papers on the bench behind her when the toy doubled in speed, causing her to jolt in her seat. A breathy little chuckle escaped her, a result of such surprise. Then she blew out a long exhale, longing for composure. Warmth bloomed deep within her core, and she had to fight the urge to let her eyes fall shut. Doing so would only sabotage herself, and amuse Alex in the process.

And she really wasn’t about to let that happen. Diana glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, knowing full well that Alex was watching her every move. She picked up the stack of papers, turned right around, and dumped them on her desk rather unceremoniously.

In direct response, the toy picked up speed again. Her thighs clenched together as she shifted in her seat, and that only made it worse; the bullet pressed right up against that sweet spot within her. No longer a benign teasing, the buzzing was insistent. Relentless. Diana meant to reach for the edge of her desk to steady herself, but shaky hands fumbled and found knees instead. It felt as if someone had lit a fire under her skin, making her flush head to toe. Somehow, she forgot how easily these things could send her into such a state.

She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the feeling. Focusing her leaden gaze on her hands, she shifted them slightly higher, settling firmly on her thighs for better leverage. Then she sunk her nails into nylon-clad flesh.

Mistake. That was a mistake.

Sparks shot up her thighs and to her hips, joining the vibrations, and she almost doubled over. What in the world possessed her to do such an idiotic thing? Of course the sting of her nails would only fuel her pleasure, not offer the distracting sensation she’d intended; she was better off stubbing a toe.

Her heart had only quickened, pounding at its cage as if begging her to let the pleasure wash over her. But she wasn’t going to give in. To do so would grant Alex the satisfaction she was looking for. In Diana’s mind, the consequence of her succumbing to her desires wouldn’t benefit Alex in any way either. A whole month without being loved on? What a miserable rule to set for oneself. But Diana knew it was merely a slight against her; she was tactile with lovers, it wasn’t her fault. A hand on a hip when she passed by, on an arm when she spoke. It was the little things Alex knew she could catch her on.

Diana dropped her hands to her sides and let her head fall back against the headrest of her chair. It was time for a different approach. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on counting the number of metal bars making up the ventilation panels. It shouldn’t have been difficult, it was a simple task, yet she lost count and had to start over multiple times; the buzz of the fluorescent lights behind her kept stealing her attention, telling her to pay mind to the one between her legs.

She may have underestimated her capacity for restraint.

As though taking pity on her plight, the toy changed patterns once more. Back to that soft, sweet pulsing. It was so jarring compared to the torment she just endured, Diana couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face as she buried her head in her hands.

Then the phone started to ring.

Could she not catch even one moment of peace today? Diana raised her head enough to catch sight of the phone on her desk, simply staring at the offending device and watching the light blink as someone tried to reach her. She let it ring.

The pulse between her legs sped up, informing her who was on the line, and she rolled her eyes much too dramatically. Reaching forward at the last possible moment, she lifted the receiver off the hook and brought it to her ear. “This is Diana speaking.”

A low chuckle sounded on the other end, stoking embers. “What’s the matter, darling? You sound quite frustrated.”

“Oh, shut up,” Diana replied indignantly. She secured the handset on her shoulder, holding it with her cheek, and gathered the papers still sitting on her desk. Needing to keep her hands occupied, lest they wander elsewhere with that voice in her ear. “I’m busy. Is there something you wanted?”

Alex sighed, and Diana heard a loud bang from somewhere behind her, followed by an unsteady rattle, like metal-on-metal. A trolley being wheeled off, most likely. Alex cleared her throat once it was almost out of earshot. “You’re needed in the Upper Spire.”

For what possible reason? The highest point of the Monument was still under construction; there was nothing of value up there that would require her assistance. Unless Alex was going to turn around and demand she pick up a toolbox and get to work. They both knew that was never going to happen.

Diana took hold of the phone again, then switched it over to the other ear. “Did I not just tell you that I am in the middle of something?”

“It wasn’t a request,” Alex bit back. Her voice slipped into one that radiated sheer power; it could so easily bring someone to their knees. It had, many times for Diana, as well-acquainted as she was with such a tone in their bedroom. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck bristled with the shiver that coursed through her, all while the toy still pulsed within. “Now, hurry along. You can finish sorting your paperwork later.”

The little mocking remark she threw in there managed to break Diana free of her spell. She thought it only fair to respond in kind. “Yes, ma’am.”

Without waiting for any further comment, she lowered the phone from her ear and moved to hang up. But again, she was stopped in her tracks.

“Diana,” Alex called, beckoning her to crawl right back to her. And she did, bringing the handset up to its former position in a rather lazy fashion. “Watch your tone.”

With not even a second to possibly respond, Diana was met with a click then nothing more. Dead air. It was at times like this she was convinced she had fallen madly in love with the Devil herself. Though she was not without mercy it would seem; the vibrator lowered back down to that soft, persistent hum and brought with it relief.

The journey to the Upper Spire wasn’t necessarily a long one from where she worked – if she discounted the elevator ride, that is. But Diana would still need to brave a rather lengthy flight of stairs. In frustration, she threw her head back against her headrest a couple of times, then abruptly stood. The papers remained on her desk, a filing cabinet drawer was left ajar, only her handbag was forcibly removed and the door locked behind her.

Once she was but a few steps down the hall, the toy sped up again. It wasn’t unbearable, no, but it did challenge her to keep her balance as she walked. One wrong shift of her hips and she might just send the bullet pressing against a spot that would not hold back from making her legs tremble. That didn’t change the fact that she could already feel a bead of sweat threatening to roll down her back. 

Diana let her feet carry her towards her destination, the world around her fading away in a blur of bright lights and dull greys as she passed through winding walkways and platforms, not even registering how many turns she’d made. All her focus was on putting one foot in front of the other and hoping she’d end up where she needed to be. And trying desperately to ignore the constant vibration in her hips.

It felt so much louder now and she wasn’t sure that was possible. The hissing of doors sliding open for her, the humming and beeping of machinery, the clicking of her heels with each stride was all but amplified by the pounding in her ears, resounding from the toy in her core. Was it always this noisy? Every time there was a new sound thrown into the mix, it sent her heart racing, so fast she could feel it in her fingertips. She truly thought walking was going to be much easier to deal with than sitting in her lab, but this was a new type of hell.

Then there was the case of the stairs.

Deep breaths, Diana reminded herself from where she stood on the landing. She could do this. The effort of her journey left her flushed and weary, but not any less determined to reach her goal. The elevator was so close she could see it, sitting in the centre of the open room; her only obstacle was but a flight of stairs.

She reached out and laid a hand on the railing, fumbling as the cool metal sent another shock through her system. Diana clenched her teeth and held it firmer, steadying herself before she could topple over. Then she began her descent.

One step at a time. That’s all there was to it, no different than any other day. She just had to get out of her head, focus on where her feet landed, and not on that dogged assault on her nerves. With another shaky breath, Diana lowered her eyes to make sure she didn’t miss a step with how unsteady she was, how heavy her legs felt with each footfall. The last thing she needed was to slip and make a fool of herself.

If she did fall, she hoped it would bring about a swift end and let her escape this torment.

Halfway down the stairs, a flicker of movement danced at the corner of Diana’s eye. Her gaze darted over to follow the blur over the railing only to see Stuart, Alex’s loyal little servant, rounding the side of the staircase.

Don’t come this way, she pleaded, voiceless, hoping he wouldn’t notice her and simply carry on with his day. The last thing she needed was to speak to anyone in this state.

But Stuart, the ever so irritating Stuart, sporting his finely-tailored suit and rectangular rimless glasses, seemed to be heading right where she had come from. Luckily, he seemed to be in a hurry, taking two steps at a time, so he shouldn’t bother her for long. But she knew him well enough. The man could talk up a storm if you let him. Just keep going.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there,” he exclaimed, followed by a slight bow of his head. The toy ramped up in intensity and stole the breath from Diana’s lungs. To try and stifle a whimper, she bit down on her lip hard enough she thought she might draw blood, and Stuart paused. He let his eyes scan over her, from her face down to her white-knuckled grip on the railing. “Are you alright, Dr. Afa—”

“Fine,” Diana snapped. She wasn’t even able to take a full breath, her words coming out rushed. “I’m fine. Thank you, Stewart.”

She left him standing there, bewildered, as her need to get as far away from him as possible carried her down the rest of the dreadful staircase unharmed. She didn’t know if he’d heard the buzzing of the toy, she hadn’t bothered to take in his expression at all, really. Maybe she was just imagining the vibrator louder than it actually was, or maybe the thrumming of machinery echoing off the endlessly tall walls of the tower saved her an awkward conversation.

The walk to the elevator wasn’t far once she hopped off that final step. The doors opened automatically for her upon her approach and she practically fell into the safe haven of steel.

With a slam of a fist against a button, she was off. Diana let herself sink against the wall, dropping her bag from her shoulder and resting trembling hands on her knees. She couldn’t even get a moment of reprieve; the insistent teasing between her legs wouldn’t subside any time soon.

The way warmth built in her core, radiating across her hips and threatening to rush down her legs to curl her toes, had her biting back a moan. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to focus on calming her heart as opposed to how blissful the waves of pleasure felt. She couldn’t let herself unravel. Not here, not now.

Diana gripped the handrail beside her and turned, resting the side of her head against the wall. The coil in her belly only wound tighter, and she cursed Alex. Cursed her for playing with her like this, for watching her struggle on every camera she passed, for pressing all those stupid little buttons that left her shaking and longing for air. But truly, she cursed herself; she was the only one to blame. Why did she ever agree to this?

She needed to breathe.

With each slow inhale, and exhale, the twist in her belly began to recede, pulling her from the haze. It did nothing, however, for the shake of her hands, the heavy feeling in her limbs, or how aware she was of her blouse brushing against her chest with each rise and fall.

It was the elevator’s turn to catch her cursing. Just as she was about to question how long it was taking to reach the Upper Spire, the lift jerked and shuddered, before coming to a halt.

“Oh, fuck,” Diana whispered under her breath. The rumble that sent through her did nothing to help the state she was in.

She aimlessly reached around for her bag, not wanting to look down in fear she might lose her balance. Finding leather under her palm, she hoisted it up and onto her shoulder. She would be fine. Her hips ached as she lifted herself to stand up straight, using the handrail as leverage. One last rest against the wall, one last moment, then she would be on her way. Then she would face Alex and try not to fall apart at her feet.

Just beyond another walkway, then she could hopefully sit again. Somehow that was much easier to handle.

The clicking of her heels was a welcome sound, distracting her from the heat simmering in her belly. She didn’t dare look over the edge of the railing along the walkway either – another thing she wished to push to the back of her mind; she was so high up, one wrong step and that was the end of her.

A foolish thing to think about given what she was dealing with right now.

After a short walk, the hiss of a door granted her access to the area Alex had been fussing over for months. Wanting to get it perfect, she said.

Odd, considering the large room Diana entered was completely bare. And dark. The only thing she could make out was maybe some type of stand near the far end of the room. Alex hadn’t exactly divulged what she was planning to do up here, other than having her own personal laboratory.

Off to the side, cool white light emanated from an open door. The only clue she had to go on as to Alex’s whereabouts. She ventured forth, then, as another set of stairs came into view, audibly groaned.

After today she might just develop a personal vendetta against staircases.

The stairwell was interesting, to say the least. The overhead light did not offer much in way of brightening the room, but rather, it was the individual strips set into each step, along with the columns in the corners of the room. Not four, as expected, but rather six. What really caught her attention though was the latticework in the centre of the stairs, much like that of the supports surrounding the elevator.

Diana steeled herself and, once again, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, watching her feet the entire way up the two flights of stairs. It wasn’t any easier than her trip to the lift, but she couldn’t allow herself a moment to falter. Even as the toy shifted with each step, the railing remained her lifeline.

Once she reached the landing, the door slid open for her before she even had a chance to catch her breath. This time, revealing a sparsely furnished bedroom. But Diana did not care much to look around; her eyes settled on the source of her anguish. Sitting on a black leather couch was Alex, dressed in white and gold, with wine red at her feet. Her attention was on the wall opposite her, and Diana glanced over to see a large screen, filled with camera feeds. That didn’t surprise her in the slightest.

Alex looked toward the door, and a smirk threatened to pull at the corner of her lips. She stood, turning the monitor off with a remote in the process, before tossing it aside. “Ah, there you are.”

As if a puppet on a string, not quite in control of her own limbs, Diana made her way over to Alex. Whenever she was near, there was a certain pull to her, always drawing Diana in. The need to hold her, to touch her in some way and breathe her in, was a constant. That is why she couldn’t afford to misbehave this time around; the stakes were too high. Or else, she would’ve chased her release just to spite her lover and get a rise.

Her handbag was taken from her by cold, gentle hands, discarded on the coffee table at her side, while Alex’s eyes were busy slowly scanning over her form. She hummed. “Stuart just called. He was quite concerned, honestly. Said you looked rather unwell.”

Diana glared up at her. She wasn’t that much taller than her, and yet she felt larger than life itself. The way she spoke only added to that; there was no denying the smug air that clung to each of her words. She was so proud of herself for humiliating Diana in such a way, making her look a fool in front of her staff when she was only ever composed.

“Yes, well, I wonder why,” she said through clenched teeth.

A melodic little laugh spilled from her partner’s lips and tugged at her heart. “Look at you… So cute when you’re all riled up.”

Diana held her gaze, wanting so desperately to remain annoyed with her. To show her she wasn’t amused with her antics. But her body betrayed her, unable to focus on such trivial things with a more pressing matter between her legs. Lips pulled in a warm smile, one she tried and failed to hide, and the heat in her hips rushed up to her chest.

Alex never took her eyes off of hers, not helping in the slightest. There was so much warmth in those icy blues of hers it almost made Diana dizzy. She had to be the first to look away.

Letting her gaze wander around the clearly unfinished room, she cleared her throat. Well aware of the fact that Alex was still staring at her. “What was it you needed me for?”

“Oh, it’s not ready yet,” she said, sounding almost disinterested, and Diana’s head snapped to look back at her. Alex gestured vaguely at her side with a sigh. “It won’t be for many months yet. I still need all of my equipment brought up here, and well… It is looking rather drab, as you can see.”

“You’re telling me I walked all of those stairs, and took the longest elevator ride of my life, for nothing?!”

“Nothing?” Alex brought a hand to her chest in mock outrage, drawing her brows in a frown. “Did you not wish to see me?”

Of course she wished to see her. She always wished to see her. One of the many side effects of having found your match. But in Diana’s current state, that had been the least of her concerns. It was near impossible to stave off the longing in her core with her so near.

Pent-up frustration trickled over and dripped from every word. “I cannot believe you.”

Diana brought her hands up to cover her face, the tips of her fingers carving along the curve of her brow bone. Her skin was so hot, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was flushed pink up to her ears. The toy sitting pretty inside her hummed away, more of an annoyance than anything at this point. Or maybe she was just annoyed, full stop. But she was so high-strung, she couldn’t deal with these little games anymore.

A shaky breath left parted lips, then a soft tsk reached her ears.

The intoxicating smell of Alex’s perfume swept over her senses before touch even registered. Woody, spiced, rich with amber and musk – a hint of plum lingering. Diana couldn’t help herself but lean into her lover’s touch, to drink in all that flowed from her wrist. Fingertips danced across her temple, causing her hands to fall from her face as she looked up at Alex again. Her head was tilted ever so slightly as her eyes followed the path she traced along Diana’s hairline.

“I’m impressed,” Alex admitted, then tucked a strand behind Diana’s ear. “I thought for certain, in the lift, away from all but my eyes to see, you would”—her fingers trailed down the side of her neck—“take care of yourself.”

Her touch was exhilarating, addicting even, sending a pleasant shiver down Diana’s spine to reignite the pleasure. When her fingers reversed the motion, letting nails scrape along her skin, her legs almost buckled beneath her.

Then Alex cupped her cheek. She leaned in and whispered against Diana’s lips, “You’ve done so well. But can you keep it up?”

Too entranced, Diana had missed when Alex pulled the remote from her pocket with her other hand. A quick tap and the toy sped up even more, knocking the air from her lungs. This had to be the highest setting; there was no way it could get any worse than this. Warmth rushed from deep within her core, over her hips and up into her chest. It was stifling.

There was nowhere she could grasp onto for support now, save for the woman before her. Her hands found Alex’s sides, gripping her blazer before she could even think about what she’d done. But Alex didn’t seem to mind. It was when she hung her head that Alex suddenly gripped her chin, tilting it back with force to look into her eyes.

“Do you think you can last?” She all but purred, her breath hot on parted lips. Diana was well and truly at her mercy now; waves of pleasure rolled over her, pulling her from her surroundings in a lust-addled haze. Yet she still managed to lazily nod in her grip.

Alex hummed then slotted a thigh between trembling legs, causing a soft whimper to spill from Diana’s lips. Though it offered support, it pressed too sweet, too deliciously. She didn’t know how long she could fight off her oncoming climax at this rate.

“Really? The greedy little slut you are…” She applied more pressure with her thigh, drawing a choked sob. “You’re not going to come?”

“No,” Diana said with firmness she didn’t even know she could muster, even if it wavered in the end.

The chuckle that followed barely registered. Her heart was beating so loud she could hear it in her ears, feel it throughout her entire body. It drowned out every other noise. The grin that pulled on crimson lips as Alex gripped her chin even harder sent molten sparks across her skin. The coil in her belly wound impossibly tight, begging for release, and it hurt. Oh, it hurt.

Diana shuddered in her lover’s arms, eyes fluttering shut. The toy continued its relentless pace against that sweet spot within her, a low whine built in her throat. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle of this. She blew out a long exhale, trying to halt her panting, but her breaths only came faster.

Stars began to form behind her eyes, signalling her impending release, and she couldn’t even fight it anymore.

Then it stopped. The buzzing stopped altogether. So abrupt, it drew a loud gasp and she fell against Alex. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, clouding her vision even further, and she had no idea whether she was crying from relief or frustration. She was so close, teetering right on the edge, only to have it ripped away from her.

“Shh,” Alex shushed her, then wrapped her arms around Diana. She carefully lowered her onto the couch, pressed up against her side. Then she smoothed back her hair. “Very good, my sweet girl. Have a rest.”

Diana buried her face in the crook of Alex’s neck, trying desperately to calm her breathing. Despite the toy no longer teasing, the throbbing between her legs persisted. Longing for more.

She had no doubt Alex knew how close she had gotten to failing, to suffering the consequences. But the absence of any scolding let her melt against her partner, wrapping her arm around her waist and taking in that sweet scent of hers once more. If this was the last time she was to hold her for a month, she wished to savour every second of it.

A soft kiss was pressed to the top of her head, yet the words that followed held no semblance of such tenderness.

“Do not think this means you’re forgiven. You still have the rest of the day ahead of you.”

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[mydarlingclaudia]

taste no evil

note : divider is from @/adornedwithlight. this fic does have dark content in it I totally get it if you don’t wanna read <3 this was inspired by the vvitch, it’s not totally like it but it made me wanna write something witch-y (????? I know nothing about witches this is just idk) I rewrote this a couple of times this is the version I ended up liking the most even though the last couple thousand words suck ass :P

wc : 6.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @clitorphosis

desc : it's just you and your husband out in the woods. oh, and whatever is living among the trees. you think it's some beastly animal, Leon knows it's witches. but he can't tell you that, you'd freak out, insist on moving closer to town or even further away from where you already lived. Leon can keep you safe, he knows he can, why must you be so paranoid all the time? it doesn't help his case when your animals start being picked off and you start seeing things more clearly. it only ends badly for the both of you. established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, gore, animal death, I make shit up about witches, cannibalism, major character death, au, fem!reader, re4r!Leon

back to the party <3

You’re hearing things in the woods at night. Not your usual deer or coyote or flock of birds, it’s something different, you don’t know what. Your husband hears it, too. It doesn’t sound like the wind, even though that’s what he says it is every time you sit up in bed in the dead of night and squeeze his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin until he wakes up.

Leon begs that you never leave your bed to go and see what scrapes against the windowpanes, that you stay with him and let him be the one to deal with it if anything were to get in. It couldn’t be the dog, his bark sounded much different than whatever this noise was. It couldn’t be neighbors, the closest house was two miles west, town was six miles further. It couldn’t be children, you were yet to have any.

When you go out in the morning to check on your animals, they’re all still there. All ten chickens, all four sheep, both your horses, the three goats, the four pigs, and one cat all remain. The cat hadn’t been yours originally, just showed up one night, Leon let it stay because it controlled the mouse population even though it fights with the dog. Nothing seems to be getting into your garden, either. That doesn’t settle your unease, though.

It’s even worse when Leon has to leave. Since town is so far, whenever he has to leave to go get medicine or supplies or something else, he was usually gone for the day. Sometimes, he’d get stuck in town or it got too dark to see the dirt road back to your home, on those days when he wouldn’t come back, you could hardly sleep, curled up on his side of the bed, your knees tucked into your chest, breathing quietly to hear every creak in the house.

But Leon always returns to you, and he kisses the top of your head and holds you tight while you scold him for taking so long to get back.

Your crops aren’t growing anymore, you know it’s because fall is nearing its end and the morning dew that coats the ground in the morning is beginning to freeze, but the thought that this isn’t because of some force of nature still looms in the back of your mind. It’s okay, though, because Leon will run out to town and get whatever vegetables you may need if they haven’t already been stockpiled in your pantry. You try to refrain from asking him to go out and get things for you, you try to keep him home whenever you’re able to, partly because of you missing him, the other part because of fear. 

Leon takes things well, he always does, that’s why it’s his job to calm you down. You’ve already spent three winters in these woods, you really shouldn’t be so worried about the things that naturally change with the seasons. Leon still goes out to chop wood and bring it back in, he still assures you that the animals aren’t out there freezing, and if there is a problem, he’s quick to fix it. You should try to take things as lightly as he does. 

It’s warm inside your home, though. You’re happy for that. You spend more and more of your days inside, tending to the fire and cooking over it, even if you’re still cold, Leon wastes no time in wrapping you up in his arms. 

Leon’s home again, finally. He spent the day in town yesterday, apparently it takes a while to buy ammunition and fabrics, but you don’t fight with him about it. Leon comes back inside with another armful of freshly chopped wood, stacking them next to the fireplace where you had already lit a fire. Your back is to him, you’re too focused on chopping up the deer meat Leon had brought home last week. The sounds of your knife hitting the cutting board again and again drown out Leon’s steps as he comes up behind you, you only know he’s there when he wraps his arms around your middle and presses his chest to your back.

The kisses he presses to your neck are soft, his body warm against your own. You stop your chopping and rest your head atop of his, this happens most nights, Leon holding you while you cook for him and yourself. 

“I’ll hunt more tomorrow,” He murmurs against your skin, “Another deer, maybe a turkey.”

“Whatever you want,” 

“You can come along if you want.” 

“You know I don’t wanna go in the woods.” 

“It’s not that bad during the day, I wouldn’t let anything get you, you know that.” 

“If I go with you then who will watch the house?”

“The dog,” He scoffs lightly, pulling away from your neck and squeezing you closer. “I won’t make you join me, I just wish you weren’t so afraid.” You sigh and continue chopping, Leon knew you wouldn’t go, anyway. But he’s certain nothing would be after you in the day, hiding behind the trees, breathing down the back of your neck, making you flinch away. It’s probably better this way, he knows that nothing with the women in the woods is certain, but if he can keep you safe and keep you happy, then maybe you’ll forget about those things outside the house. 

You can’t know about them, not the way that he knows them. If you see them, those women, those witches, he hopes you think nothing more of them than someone lost in the dark, looking for town, but Leon knows about them all too well. Leon knows they aren’t a frightened young woman knocking on your door at night, asking you to spare her some food and a place to rest until morning. He knows they aren’t coming from the city, marveling at the quaint home you’ve made for yourself on her way to town. He knows they aren’t a new neighbor from a mile or two away, bringing you a fresh apple pie to introduce themself and get to know the delightful young couple a bit better. 

Leon found them not long after the noises at night started. He had been coming back in from the outhouse and found a woman in just a torn up, bloody nightgown stalking around your house. He hadn’t known what to do, simply just stared and tried to quiet his breathing. Well, she noticed him, Leon was sure he was about to die, but the girl just smiled, showing off her bloody teeth before running past the animal pens and into the woods. Leon went back inside, wishing that it had been nothing more of a dream, but you noticed how something had frightened him and he knew nothing he told you would ease you. But you called him brave for going out there. 

He saw the witch again a few days later when he was coming back home from town. She didn’t threaten him, didn’t make any move to hurt him, hardly even tried to intimidate him. Just watched him from the side of the dirt road and followed him for a few yards until he stopped his horse and confronted her. Again, she presented those bloody teeth to him in a smile he knew he’d see more times than he’d like. 

She instantly began to speak of you, that’s when the subtle threats found their way into the conversation; “Pretty wife that you have, I was like her.” “I hope she isn’t too scared, but you take good care of her, don’t you?” “My friends like her, too. Shame that she doesn’t come out to see us.”. Leon could hardly stand it, he tried to dismiss the woman, told her that you weren’t the kind for rituals and sacrifices, but she wouldn’t let up about it.

“I’m sure you’d keep her safe, that’s what a good husband does.” The witch had giggled, circling his horse like she was sizing up a plate of food. 

“Please, just leave us be.” She hadn’t even looked at him, keeping her eyes on the horse beneath him who was starting to shift in its place. “What do you want so badly, huh? Why my wife? What would make you back away from her?” When he said it, it wasn’t an offering of any kind. But the witch took it that way, gave him a grin that would continue to make him sick, and he knew that was it. 

Leon would make a deal with the witch, then she told her little friends and they all joined in. He became the errand boy, a pet for the witches, a man desperate for his wife not to become what they were. He did as they asked, stomaching down whatever disgusting they would have him do every few nights. “Bring me a young man.” “Bring me a virgin girl.” “The head of a goat, I need it.” “Butcher us a lamb, bones, organs, flesh. Tonight.” Leon did it all. In return, your safety would go on for longer, these errands would become what most of his trips into town were actually about, but he’d bring something back for you so his story would be believable. 

You could never find out. 

The worry never leaves you no matter how badly Leon wishes it would. Soothing you gets less and less easy with each night that you’re up, trying to decide if it’s one of your animals making that noise or your imagination. So you keep yourself busy, Leon does the same, desperate to be by you during the day in case those women finally decide it’s time and that he’s no longer needed. 

“I will stay,” You look over your shoulder and smile at him, stopping again to gather the slabs of meat into your hands. “You’re a better shot than I am, anyway.”

–

You can see your breath in the air, the cold wind nips at whatever skin is exposed as you drag the knife down the deer's front, the fur pulling back and exposing the white flesh hidden beneath. 

Leon had gone hunting, as he said he would. He brought you home a deer, this one is to make jerky of and keep stored, it’s always best to keep extra meat around in the winter. Odd thing was that as soon as he had dropped the deer off in the yard, he came inside for a quick kiss as a goodbye, saying he needed to run into town, you didn’t question him even though you really should have. 

Nonetheless, the warmth of the deers bare skin warmed your cold fingers, you almost found yourself leaning into it. You’ll make something of its coat, be it a rug or something to heat the inside of a jacket, so long as it serves some use. Blood trickles down out of the gash in its throat and the bullet in its eye into the metal pail beneath the deer’s head while you continue to skin it, the deer sways slightly from where it’s strung up because of the force of your cuts. 

You learned how to butcher things because of Leon, it was before you were married, but it proved to be a useful skill to have when you had a rabbit infestation in your yard back when you lived in town. 

Once it's fully skinned, you slice down the middle, crack the ribs and push them apart, and you’re met with the hot, red insides of a dead deer. The steam from its body comes up to warm your hands, and you let it be that way for a few minutes. Some of the organs fall to the dirt floor of the barn after a minute, you cut out whatever hadn’t slipped away already. You cut down its groin until you hit the first rib, then follow along that until you pull the meat away and set it on the butcher's table a few feet to your right. Repeat on the other side, cut out the tenderloins, get behind the deer and cut horizontally where its back meets its legs, then slowly start to cut along the spine and- 

The cat rubbing up against your boots and licking at the deers spilled organs stops you, you never did find a fitting name for the cat, but you loved her nonetheless. You give her a soft kick and she stops to stare up at you, licking at the blood that coats the fur around her mouth. “Stop that,” You scold quietly, she doesn’t understand you, she never does. You give her another soft kick, pushing her away from where you’re working, “Go, kitty. Shoo.” She finally leaves you, rubbing up against wooden beams on her way out of the barn, you’re about to begin your cutting again, but the dog barking tears you from your focus.

You wait a few seconds, hope that he stops barking, but an angered yell is only accompanied with the awful noise. You stab your knife into the wooden table with a huff, leave the barn, go around to the front of the house and look around, but you find no one at your door or in the yard or even by the animal pens. You look around for a few minutes, wondering if you have missed someone, but all that you can see is your animals. 

The dog comes to you, panting with his tongue out, he has that smiley look that all dogs have. You kneel to pat his head, but he barks and turns from you before scampering off past the pens, you follow after him. Nothing is unusual, nothing is out of place. You count all the animals that you see, make sure no fences are broken and that there’s nothing hiding around the corner.

You almost trip over the dog when you stop, he sits there, looking out at the treeline, barking softly. A chill runs through you, but when you look down and see the trail of footprints in the mud that leads from the sheep pen and out into the woods, it feels like your whole body has gone numb. 

How could you have missed this? How did you not hear someone wandering around your property? Surely the animals would’ve started squealing and cawing if they had been disturbed, right? If they let this fly by, then what did they let pass through at night? Is this what the dog deals with most nights?

Leon’s getting an earful when he gets home.

–

Leon’s met with you pacing around the home when he finally returns late at night. You should have been in bed by now, awake and waiting. The deer had been butchered and stored away so you could finish cooking it tomorrow, but the yelling, he hadn’t been ready for the yelling. 

You repeat yourself over and over about how someone had come to the house today, and how that someone had wandered through the yard and had gotten chased away by the dog. You keep telling Leon about how you hadn’t heard them when you should’ve, how the animals didn’t even make the faintest noise when they passed through without a sound. Leon knows who it is, of course he does, why wouldn’t he? He really should know better than to trust those women, but he can either ignore them and let them take you, or he can do as they say and leave you here by yourself knowing they may not honor the safety deal that had been agreed upon. Lose-lose situation. 

Leon hates leaving you, he really does. This does nothing to ease him. He doesn’t know what would’ve happened to you or the animals if the witch hadn’t been chased away, he doesn’t know if it’s happened before, but he knows that it will probably happen again and that he’ll get scolded by the witches for letting his dog scare one of them like that.

You’re still talking his ear off, Leon simply sits at the edge of the bed and stares at you as you pace around your house in your nightgown. You look so worried, it pains Leon.

“Next time- Next time I’m coming to town with you.” You don’t even look at him when you talk, you’re really just talking to yourself, but he listens. “I wish that you had been here, you could’ve- I-I dunno! You could’ve done something!”

“Done what?” Leon muses from his seat on the bed, resting his chin on his hand. You finally turn to face him, your worried look replaced with a glare.

“I don’t know. Kept watch? I don’t mind strangers, but this is scary, Leon. I don’t want someone snooping around our house, and if that’s what I’m hearing outside in the night then- Then I want them out of here!” You walk closer to him, your hands are all over the place as you confess your worries to him for the umpteenth time. 

“I know, I know. I don’t like this anymore than you do, and I promise to you that I’ll take care of it.” Take care of it means beg the women in the woods to not come to your house when he’s sent away on an errand. That’s why he left in a rush yesterday. One of those girls found him in the woods and demanded he bring her some of an old man's livestock. He can’t say no. All Leon can do now is listen to you talk and think of a way to fix this. 

“Leon, please. I- I’m scared. You know that.” You finally stop in front of him, the tears that well up in your eyes make his heart ache. He reaches out, holding your hand in his, pulling you closer. 

“I hate seeing you worry like this, you’ll go gray by the end of the year.” He tries to joke, it does get a small giggle from you, that’s good. “I’m never going to let anything hurt you, you have my word. Things are gonna get better, I’ll be here, I’ll watch the house, make you feel better.” He gives your hands a squeeze, you nod your head and sit down next to him on the bed, he takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulder and rest his head on top of yours. “We’ll be okay.”

You nod your head beneath his, sucking back the snot in your nose and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“I’m sorry things are like this, I hope you know I’m trying to make things as easy as possible for you.”

“I know that, but you being gone so much doesn’t make me feel as safe as you think it does.” Leon sighs through his nose and brings a hand up to stroke your hair. Oh, how he wishes things were as simple as they once were. 

“I love you.” Is all he can think to say.

“I love you, too.” 

Leon holds you like that for a few moments, listening to your breathing soften as you burrow into the side of his neck. Tomorrow will be different, he hopes. He hopes he can cook up that deer meat with you, sit with you and watch you sew while he reads to you, maybe tomorrow night will be special. But that’s always how he hopes things turn out to be until he has to head back to town again. 

The moment is interrupted by a pained yelp from outside, it’s made by an animal, you bolt upright, already thinking about what could be happening outside the four walls of your home. Leon doesn’t do anything just yet, he sits for another few seconds, but he’s met with growling and more yelps.

“Stay here, please.” Leon says softly, he kisses your forehead as he grabs the lantern from the nightstand, stands from the bed and walks to the door, grabbing his shotgun before stepping out into the cool night air. You do as he says, good wife that you are. That rush of fear finds its way back into your body, you hear Leon yell. The shotgun is fired once, then a second time, a more human scream following after the second shot, you hold back a sob. 

After maybe five minutes pass, you can’t take it. 

You pluck Leon's coat off of a chair and throw it on over your nightgown, you don’t bother with shoes when you get to the front door and open it. You’re scared to find Leon dead on the ground even though he’s the one with the gun, you shuffle slowly around the corner of the house. There’s snow under your feet, it’s barely any, really. But you can feel the softness of it that melts when you step on it, only for it to melt and soak into your skin.

“Leon?” You call out. And you find him, by the far end of the house, kneeling over something. The shotgun is on the ground, so is the lantern, you still can’t see very well even as you make your way closer. “Leon, you-” You cut yourself when you finally reach him. You stare at your dead dog from over his shoulder, Leon knows you’re there because he’s gone completely still. Words die in your throat as you take in the sight of the canine's organs that’ve been torn from its body, they stain the snow a dark red. Poor thing, it curled itself into a ball trying to chew out its own guts, its jaw is still open, sharp, bloody teeth out on display. The sight is awful, the smell is even worse, you know you won’t forget it. 

Leon can hear your breathing quicken behind him, he turns to look at you. Your eyes are blown wide, mouth agape, chest heaving, you look like you’re about to puke. He quickly stands when you finally turn away from the bloody sight and lean over, one hand holding your stomach while the other covers your mouth. You’ve seen plenty of disgusting things, you’ve helped birth animals, you’ve butchered more game than you can even remember, but this is wrong. 

Leon wraps his arms around your hunched over form, whispering quick “I know,”’s and “It’s alright,”’s. You pant for a few more seconds before the feeling of acid in your stomach finally starts to fade, Leon continues to hold you and rub your arm, trying to reassure you. 

The animals made no noise, you can feel them watching you, though. They didn’t make any noise when the stranger came by earlier, they didn’t make any noise when your dog was attacked, they didn’t make any noise when Leon shot at something you didn’t get the chance to see. 

Instead of puking, you start sobbing, leaning into Leon’s touch as he brings you to sit on the cold ground so he can try and hold you tighter. The kisses he places on your face do little to help ease your shaken state, tears well up in his eyes as well, but his tears are for a different reason.

–

What was Leon thinking, shooting at a witch? 

He had hit her, he’s always been a good shot, but it had only been in the arm, she wouldn’t die. Though, he knows that this is only going to get him into trouble and put you at more risk. 

He assumes that she had attacked the dog because of how it had chased her away earlier that day, who knows what would happen now. Seeing you cry didn’t make him feel better about anything, and now he knows you’re going to need him now more than ever. He does your chores for you, he doesn’t even try to pry you off of him when you don’t let him get up from your bed in the morning. As much as he enjoys being close to you, he knows that this is partly his fault. 

You hardly sleep now, neither does he. The two of you cling to each other at night, you both listen to the noises that come from outside your home, trying to tell when they get too close.

You don’t ask him about what happened, you don’t want to know, but you know that there’s something he hasn’t told you. Maybe it’s better that way, maybe you haven’t just been hearing things this whole time and there’s something Leon knows that you don’t. But your ignorance has kept you safe thus far, right? Sure, you’re scared, but nothing’s hurt you. As much as you want to ask Leon about what he may or may not know, you stop yourself. Now probably isn’t a good time, you don’t want to get into a fight with him, especially when you feel like you’ll die if he has to leave again. 

You know he didn’t kill your dog, you know he tried to save it, but the person he shot– you heard it, you know you did. 

You try thinking about who it could’ve been, why they’d come to your house at such a late hour, why Leon didn’t go after them, but you come up with nothing in the end. You don’t like thinking about it, it drives you crazy, but you really can’t help it. Even though you have your doubts and your fears, you never pull away from Leon’s touch, you can’t risk losing it.

–

Leon hasn’t left in nearly three weeks, which you don’t mind in the slightest. 

You have enough vegetables, you don’t need any tools, anything that you need, you have. The roads are probably too packed with snow to even get anywhere and not get lost or freeze, anyway. 

The only problem you’re really starting to run into is with the animals. They keep fighting with each other, three of the chickens have already been killed by the others, their eyes pecked out, feathers torn off, chest ripped open. Your billy goat had killed one of the other goats, ramming its horns into her side until he ended up impaling her, Leon separated the billy goat from the other goat quickly after that. The sheep and horses don’t seem as bad as the others, well, they’re not violent, but they are sick. The pigs are fighting with each other more than normal, they keep biting one another and fighting over food even though there’s plenty for all of them. You make Leon deal with those things. 

You still had that deer meat from the one Leon had brought home a few weeks ago, you’ve mostly been eating that. There’s something wrong with the chicken eggs, when you crack them, instead of a white yolk and clear, slimy insides coming out, all you get is an already popped yolk that’s turning green and chunky egg whites. The smell is awful, you can’t imagine how bad it would taste. It’s with all the eggs, neither you or Leon know what to do about it. 

Even if there were good eggs, the chickens would have eaten them before you would get the chance to collect them. They do it now with these disgusting eggs they lay, they don’t seem to mind, they keep fighting them, the inside of the coop is a mess. 

You’ve tried cooking up the chicken and goat meat, but the meat is already rotting. It doesn’t make sense. Winter has begun, the earth is frozen over, your animals have been dead for barely two days and there’s already bugs living inside the graying flesh. It disgusts you. Leon apologizes for it all, you aren’t sure why, it’s not his fault the animals are being this way. You feed whatever untouched bits you can find to the cat. 

Leon’s gone out hunting since the dog has died, you went with him this time. Even with Leon, you find nothing to eat. No deer pass through, not a rabbit burrowing in the snow, nothing. Just a few birds that are so small they’d be blown apart by the force of a bullet. It’s fine, the deer meat should last you for a bit longer, and if you really need to, you can just kill one of the pigs. Anything you eat tastes rotten, you’re not sure why, it should be perfectly fine. Maybe it’s something in your head.

It’s colder now, though. It won’t stop snowing and you’re trying to save as much firewood as you can so Leon doesn’t have to keep going out into the deep snow to get more wood everyday. 

You don’t like seeing Leon so worried. He’s too stiff when he holds you, he’s been so on edge for the past few weeks, more than you’d thought he’d be. 

Time moves on, it waits for no one. 

You and Leon eat whatever you have, burn the wood you’re able to, try to sleep as much as you can. He doesn’t bring up the dog, or the fact that your animals are either dying or killing each other. You can’t bring yourself to go outside and see what’s become of your poor animals, Leon understands, it’s another thing he tries to take care of and hide just to keep you happy. 

–

The snow is cold under your feet, as is the air around you that continues to bite at your skin. No jacket, no shoes, what are you thinking? You’re gonna get sick, Leon will just have to keep taking care of you. But you couldn’t stay inside anymore, you heard the keening cries of your poor sheep early in the morning, you ran outside before Leon could stop you. 

The scene in front of you is almost the same as that of your dog’s death : blood in the snow, torn open chests and stomachs, warm, heavy organs that melt the snow around them and let steam rise up into the air. You say nothing, you do nothing besides stare down at the pen that once held your sheep in them, their wool is turning the same color as the snow. There’s footprints in the snow, not yours, not Leon’s, some are bloody, some aren’t. 

The pigs are dead, the goats are dead, the chickens and horses are on death's doorstep, and now your sheep have gone too. You’ve been feeding the animals, was it just a change in the weather that made them all sick? To be fair, the pigs fed themselves, you didn’t know they ate their own. The goats got violent, the sheep were as weak as ever, but you’ve never heard of an animal's organs falling out on their own. It’s not a rarity for farm animals to be wiped out in one winter, but they’ve survived winters like these before, what’s so different about this one? 

You finally decide that it’s not an animal who’s done this, that the things you’ve seen and heard in the night weren’t animals, either. 

Whenever you do get to sleep now, there’s these women in your dreams, you don’t know them, but they seem to know you. And in these dreams, you’re eating with them, their faces blur together and you feel warm, full. They laugh and talk, serve you plate after plate of something raw. There’s blood in their mouths as well as yours, it’s like you’re under some kind of spell. Leon isn’t there, and as much as these dreams leave you feeling a bit more content than the day before, there’s something about them that terrifies you. You don’t tell Leon this, though. 

Maybe in your dreams you’re eating your animals, you still don’t know who the women are supposed to be. But the sounds of their laughter have poured out of your dreams and into the sounds you hear outside your house at night. 

Leon follows you outside after a couple of minutes, holding a jacket and blanket meant for you while he doesn’t have one for himself. 

You let him come up behind you and put the jacket over your shoulders, then the blanket on top of it. “You’ll catch a cold,” He mumbles. 

“I’m tired of this.” You breathe. Leon doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but you hear him gulp, then feel him run his hand up and down your back.

“Tired of what?”

“Of this-” You look at him and gesture to the pen of dead sheep in front of you, Leon doesn’t look. “I- Is it wolves, or something? Leon, this has never been a problem, I don’t understand what’s changed but we can’t just… We can’t just act like this isn’t a problem.”

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, we won’t be able to stay here next year. You know, I’ll go anywhere with you, right?”

“Of course, but we can’t just leave our home.”

“Well we can’t stay here if there’s something in the woods that’s treating our land like its feeding ground!” You scoff, you move from your spot in the snow and step closer to Leon, rubbing your hands over your face. “I- I’ve told you about how scared I am, you keep doing nothing.”

Leon wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him, “You don’t know how sorry I am.” You stay quiet, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours as you try to ignore the chill creeping up your legs and the smell of blood in your nose. “I wish things were different,”

“Maybe we should wish harder,” The chuckle he lets out is humorless. “We can’t stay here anymore, you know that.”

“... I do.”

“Let’s head back into town as soon as there’s a break in the weather.” Leon goes quiet again, he’s thinking, you can practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

“I like that plan.” He hums after a few seconds, giving you a squeeze before letting his grip on you loosen. His hands slide down to yours, he still hasn’t looked at the dead sheep when he starts to pull you back to the house. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“So make me feel better.” 

– 

The night is colder than the day, it’s always been this way. 

Leon’s asleep in your bed, but you’re wide awake. You had another one of those dreams about the women for the brief amount of time that you got to sleep. It felt different this time, probably because you had been in your barn, eating away at a rotted deer carcass, it tasted sweet on your tongue. You could hear Leon talking to you in your dream, but when you looked around you he was never there and you were left with those odd women again. 

Your fingers trace over his face gently, careful not to wake him. You’ve always thought he looked peaceful in his sleep, you hope his dreams are better than yours. It’s too quiet tonight, there’s no tapping on the window, no shouts from outside, nothing. Something tells you that you should go check, though. 

You press a soft kiss to Leon’s cheek and stand from your bed, managing to pull on a coat and shoes this time around before you step out into the cold night. 

You’re met with silence, the moon shines brightly in the sky, lighting up the snowy land and the woods that surrounds it. You lean back against the wooden door, wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for that something that drew you out here. 

You wait for a few moments, then for a few more seconds before you decide that this is futile. You turn around and reach for the door handle, but a sharp whistle to your right stops you, it’s already too late to go back inside. 

“You look so tired.” Says the voice, you turn to look and see who it is, only to find a stranger. She can’t be any older than you are, she watches you, waiting for you to answer as a smile creeps onto her face and she takes a step closer. “What’s got you so worried?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m worried about you,” She speaks quickly, alive and energetic. “You can trust me, what’s got you up so late?” You shudder, you’ve seen her face before, but you can’t remember where. In your dreams, maybe? The way she stares into your soul makes you feel like she already knows the answer to her question, she just wants to hear you admit it. 

“... My husband. And the animals.” You mumble, her smile grows. 

“Really?” It’s almost a giggle when she asks, she sways slightly, stepping closer to you once again. “You’re a good wife, then.” You don’t say anything, only watch her. “I bet there’s something I could do to take away that worry.” Again, you give her no answer. “Can we sit and talk?”

It’s stupid, you know it is. The closer she gets, the more clearly you can see the crusted blood on her lips. You grip the door handle, but you can’t move under her gaze. 

“I just want to help.”

“Th-Thank you, but I- Uhm, I’m f-fine.” You stammer out, “I just- I’d like to go back to sleep now.”

“Don’t you want to know how I can help?”

“You’re too kind,” You chuckle shakily. “I’m fine, really.” 

“Please.” Her voice is firm, she’s not asking you this time. “That husband of yours shot me, you know. Helping you would make me feel better.” 

“You-” She reaches out and grabs your wrist, her icy skin makes her grip on you even more uncomfortable. 

“Say yes to me.” You both stop, her eyes bore into yours. “You’ll freeze or you’ll starve, do you want to see your husband freeze?”

“It’s just one winter.” She smiles again, like she knows something you don’t. 

“Do you want to see your husband freeze?” She repeats. “Do you want to watch him starve?”

“Of course not!”

“I can help you, you won’t have to worry about him anymore if you just say yes.” 

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t have to know me,” She snaps, “You just have to trust me. Your life can be easy again. You love your husband, don’t you?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

“Then let me help you.” 

“… How?” 

“You’ll just have to see. But you’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll feed you food sweeter than anything you’ve tasted, don’t you want that?”

“… Yes.” 

— 

Those women from your dreams surround you, their laughter is the same, but you can see their faces more clearly now. The fire is warm, even in your nakedness you don’t feel the chill of the snow and crisp air. 

You almost laugh with them, but Leon’s here with you this time, that’s what makes you stop. His body lays on top of the snow and you lean over him, holding his hand against the side of your face, his skin is cold, but you still cling to his touch. Leon’s breathing is slow, he can hardly keep his eyes open, you can’t really blame him, not when he’s got chunks bitten out of him, the other women said he had tasted good, offered up the rest of him to you. 

You were easy to convince, you wouldn’t call yourself desperate, maybe dumb, in a sense. Easily tricked. How could you know it would lead to this? 

Your eyes are watery, tears of your own drip down onto Leon’s face and mix with his. You can’t fully hate this, he’s here with you, there’s something either wrong with your mind or body telling you that this is the right thing. Before you can really stop yourself, you lap at the gash on his wrist, his blood is sweeter than anything you’ve made up in your dreams. The way he looks now isn’t far off from any of your animals' deaths, the only thing is that he’s no animal and there’s still air in his lungs. 

He winces when you suck on the wound, the sound is weak and breathy, but it still makes something in you ache. 

“Sorry,” You mumble against his wrist, coaxing more blood out with more gentler sucks and nips at the torn skin. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Leon lifts his head only for it to fall back against the snow, you pull away from his wrist, a small string of saliva connecting your bloody mouth to the ugly gash before breaking. You push the hair from his face, still holding his wrist in your other hand.

“I-” You start, stopping when you see how glossy his eyes become. “Were you protecting me?” A weak nod comes from Leon, you smile. “You’re everything to me. I love you, you know that?” Another weak nod, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the way he stops breathing as you hold him. You smear blood across his lips when you pull away, his eyes have gone cold and you can’t seem to find a pulse in his throat. You let out a shaky breath as you kiss your way down from his jaw and back to his wrist, focusing solely on the feeling of his limp arm in your grasp. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper against him, no longer sucking and nibbling, instead sinking your teeth into him, working your way into the skin to pull it away from him and back into your mouth. You take the first bit, chomp down on the chewy bits of meat, tonight is the beginning of your new life.

[cardboardclownery]

CRASHES THROUGH A BRICK WALL

HI HI IM ALIVE!!!! sorry for the relative radio silence on here ;v;

on the topic of that actually!!!! finally have a proper folie a deux au update for you!! though its slightly different than expected?

me and professional buddy and fellow au creator @cookiecaker decided to share a summary of the story we're making for the au beforehand since we'll be taking a whileeee to finish it,,, got a lot of life to live and horrors to create "-v-

after this though you mayyyy or may notttt see some out of order chapter drafts posted for the story as well,,, or atleast one? eh youll see ;Pc

ANYWAYS!!!! this is gonna take a while so lets get on with...

THE FOLIE À DEUX DOAI AU

a summary!!

or story pitch? idk-

(cookie please lemme know if i miss or improperly describe anything here feel free to correct me-)

PART 1

the first three chapters follow alex just after the end of volume 1 as theyre abducted by lankmann and confined to his asylum as a "patient." eventually they get sent to winfrey as food, but winfrey refuses to eat them. theyre left to die in room 66 by lankmann for a Long While, until eventually he gives up and just puts alex back in their room

while alone in confinement, alex starts noticing strange things happening... dark patches start appearing on their skin, they get random pains as if someone were kicking them, and they hear a voice... a much clearer voice than the ones they used to hear while working in the asylum, and it seemed to be able to read their thoughts. though they originally just assumed it was due to being part of their thoughts as well, they find that they start knowing things they had no way of knowing and never learned prior to being confined. when lankmann typically entered room 66, how long hes inside, certain areas of the asylum patients found that theyd never heard of before...

this "voice" managed to help alex find a way to escape, leading to them running away and moving to another, smaller town in eastridge than the one they originally lived in to avoid lankmann's pursuit

PART 2

[ ! tw for cannibalism. yes you heard me- ! ]

so after getting far away from the asylum, alex assumes that their hallucinations and weird symptoms of... Something would wear off, since subject 02 was no where near close enough to affect them

well uh. nope! theyre still there!!

so eventually alex figures out "oh shit that thing is in my head somehow" and is obviously quite concerned!!! to say the least!!!! but theyre also oddly comforted by the idea of having The Voice in their head, since now theyre not entirely alone while on the run and i mean it helped them escape so it cant be that bad?? either way theyre not exactly excited about the whole ordeal and theyre starting to look different and theyre really hungry all the time and its not fun

so! at some point (with winfreys suggestion) alex decides to run off to another town a bit farther away just to be safe. but Uh Oh theyre all out of food!! so theyre extremely hungry, forcing themself through it so they can get food when they arrive but. they see someone in the woods while walking

and for some reason that makes them even hungrier

they try to ignore it and keep walking but they cant

and the next thing they know

theyre looking down at a person

chewing off the flesh on their leg

covered in blood

even after regaining their senses they cant stop themself from eating. it tasted... so good... they were so hungry... they felt awful but it really did taste so s o g o o d .

in a haze, they discard the body, clean themself off and reach the next town. just after unpacking in an apartment, they collapse, flooded with the emotions they fought off on the way there

the next day, alex finally confronts winfrey (or winfreys voice rather-) about all their grievances and they eventually reach an understanding, as winfrey opens up about fearing the outside of the asylum despite longing to escape through alex, so they eventually agree to let winfrey pilot their body for a few days to get a feel for how the world has changed since the time winfrey had been free

in doing so, winfrey realizes how small and helpless humans are in comparison to them and how terrified the patients they devoured mustve been. this allows them to appreciate human life (specifically alex's) much more and want to escaped in their own body to join alex outside and introduce clyde to what they learned after finding it again

while piloting alexs body, winfrey is suddenly forced back into their own after lankmann inflicts enough pain to wake them from the dissociative state that piloting alex left them in. soon after this, winfrey overcomes the fear that was originally keeping them from escaping the facility and breaks out

PART 3

this section is a lot less figured out than the rest so uhh bear with me please ;v;

essentially this couple of chapters just follows alex and winfrey as they get used to life on the run, figuring out where to go from there and how they could potentially find clyde, along with just talking face to face and getting used to that. its a weird feeling talking to someone that you share thoughts with yknow? like talking to yourself but its... not... yourself...

around the start of this section winfrey also expresses that they feel drawn to feminity as a human concept, thus being referred to with they/she from this point on in the story!! transfem winfrey yippee!!! it just makes sense in our head idk-

PART 4

alex and winfrey start noticing news broadcasts and posters asking around for a "dark figure" lurking around, as well as warnings about alex being missing from lankmanns asylum. this fuels alex's paranoia, leading them to seeing lankmanns caretakers everywhere, feeling as if theyre being watched wherever they go... until eventually their home is ambushed and theyre taken back into lankmanns custody

alex is essentially used as bait to get winfrey to come save them from the asylum, since lankmann couldnt find a solid lead on where winfrey could be. alex tries to convince her not to fall for it, since they can both tell this is what lankmanns trying to do, but winfrey eventually caves and breaks back in to help alex, getting trapped inside once again

PART 5

depsite the circumstances, winfrey and alex do their best to stay determined and keep looking for a way out, but they dont make much progress. to make matters worse, lankmann tries "live feeding" patients to alex in the same way he did with winfrey due to realizing that alex has veldigun traits and assuming that theyd have the same appetite as her. this isnt the case, and eventually lankmann switches to dead patients as food for alex, which theyre forced to accept due to lacking any other options

both winfrey and alex are miserable in the situation, the helplessness sinking in fairly quickly as alexs body begins rejecting the growing veldigun portions of itself, decaying under the immense stress

during their final moments, winfrey pilots alexs body to allow an atleast somewhat peaceful death as their consciousness fades away, leaving winfrey alone to reflect on all that had happened...

...and thats the official end of the story!! i had like,, a hypothetical epilogue/alternate ending where lankmann forces a Mind Merge with winfrey somehow and then gets killed and she breaks out again but like. idk the logistics of that are iffy and i kinda prefer the more melancholy end for something like this ":]c

ANYHOW!!!! hope that was!!! something!!!! please feel free to ask questions or provide feedback or anything else im always happy to engage with my fellow freaks (affectionate) :]

ALSO IF YOU MAKE CONTENT BASED ON THIS AU LET ME KNOW I WILL DIE FOREVER alright thats it for real this time- stay safe broskissss BP

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[imagonista]

MOTH finale rambling: warning, this is long, and basically a brain dump. Proceed with caution

Oh gosh. I'm may not be physically crying, but mentally, I'm kind of numb. Not in a bad way, I want to be clear, this is just how I process certain types of emotional stories, and it may take some time for me to recover from the finale. Also the fact this is probably the first time my emotions have made me feel like I'm going to throw up, which is good in the sense that it means the storytelling was effective, but bad in the sense that I have emetophobia, the fear of vomiting, sooooo XP

If there was a word to describe the ending, it would be catharsis. Every character, both the speakers and the listeners, experience some form of catharsis, and get closure after all their trauma. Amazing storytelling.

I have so many thoughts, so many emotions, but I don't have the words to describe them (and I don't think *unholy bird screeches* count). There's so much to talk about...

The realization, adding from the previous episode, that Makkaro and Zed aren't that different. Both of their arcs revolve around them putting their respective listener on a pedestal, and all the harm that caused.

That the Guardian is GONE gone, and the effects that will have on the world. On one hand, the Guardian didn't do their job in the first place, mostly just staying alone in their arch angel until Zed showed up. But in the AU where the Guardian dies, it was stated how while magic doesn't go away, things start to feel less...magical, if the Guardian were to die. Does the Guardian leaving from the world in general mean the same thing? I'll guess we'll find out with Nosferatu (which took until actually spelling out the name to realize the importance of that name and its association with the original Dracula book. And since he was turned into a vampire... very clever!)

As much as I was hoping for Zed and the Guardian to end up together, it wasn't much of a shock when they didn't. Neither of them were ready for a relationship, and the Guardian just has too much emotional baggage to ever love again. And I'm glad it was Zed who did it; it really shows his character growth, his realization that it wouldn't be a fair or healthy relationship.

But my emotional juxtaposition:

*Darlings POV switching to Guardians POV*

Me: YES!!!!!

*Section titled "Shy Wizard let's you go")

Me: NO!!!!!!!

The title of the series being the title of (probably) Y'narri's favorite romance novel?!?! Genius! I'm also honestly glad that the meaning of Magic of the Heart wasn't the whole "you had the power inside yourself all along" type of story. Basically, that Zed would find the magic inside himself and then not be weak anymore, yada yada. I think it was only recently (probably within the last few years) I discovered how ableist that narrative can be. So having "Magic of the Heart" be about love, not "magic" magic, works a lot better.

Makkaro and Darlings ending was just beautiful! On one hand, it does kind of feel like Makkaro is getting off a bit too easily for murdering thousands (or had it gotten to millions?) of innocents. On the other hand, he did lose his necromancy, and had severe emotional trauma from the entire experience. But either way, I love how he and Darling are just gonna live happily together, and while they may be secluded/hidden from society, they finally get the peace they deserve.

Mini musical theater thoughts because of course my brain thinks about musicals; "That Would Be Enough" from Hamilton, Eliza's lines are so Darling coded

"I don't pretend to know, the challenges your facing,

The world's you keep erasing and creating in your mind.

But I'm not afraid,

I know who I married,

So long as you come home at the end of the day,

That would be enough."

And

"If I could grant you peace of mind,

If you could let me inside your heart.

...

Let this be the first chapter,

Where you decide to stay,

And I could be enough,

And we could be enough,

That would be enough."

I could probably write an essay about how Makkaro is both Hamilton and Burr, but nobody needs that.

The animation walk cycle at the end with the fanart?! It's basically an anime ending credits sequence, and I loved it! Magic of the Heart anime when?

On a lighter note, Zed calming himself down after going off about how the heck he was still alive, I couldn't relate more to him. That shock, the surprise, then mini celebration (and then realizing he was celebrating a bit too much); so relatable.

Now thoughts on the future: I am both nervous and excited to see what happens to Zed. I know if that he's gonna be more grown up in the future, he may lose being "shy," and "smol," which I selfishly don't want him to lose. To sum things up, my favorite male archetype is the nervous, shy, bumbling type; ever since my brain was able to accept that even as a female, I was allowed to have male favorite characters, that's always what I drifted to. Why? I don't know; probably something about vulnerability and having men not being jerks. It seems silly, but I struggle with characters changing (which is probably why my two favorite shows, The 7D and The Cuphead Show are my favorites; since they aren't crazy plot heavy and focus more on comedy, the characters are consistent). That's not to say I'm against character growth; I love character growth! And I want Zed to realize his own personal strengths and worth (which as we can see, the process has at the very least started). I don't know. While I hope Zed grows, I hope he's still, himself, for lack of a better term.

All in all, congrats GBA for an amazing series finale!!!!! And Im very excited for Gen 3!!!Apologies for this long ramble, for those who lasted this long

[despair-edits]

Healing headcanons for Post-corruption!Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe)

Another request... can I have headcanons for a AU Lapis lazuli (steven universe) who was corrupted and now just healing from corruption? thank you 💙

Requested by: @the-circuitry

Pain and sorrow seemed to follow Lapis everywhere she went, never threading too far behind. She was used to it, really;

Adapting was never easy for her, changes shocking her gem to the core and leaving her feeling far to venerable and exposed than she'd like to admit;

It all happened too fast yet too slow. She felt all of it, the bone chilling sensation of her body being mutilated against her will making her light-made intestines curl in disgust;

While her memory of the incident was blurry and scattered, the feeling of pure panic and terror couldn't seem to leave her head even long after being brought back;

It didn't help that her physical form was now tarnished, reminding her of the incident whenever she looked at her reflection;

She now had numerous irregular spots and cracks of gold scattered around her blue skin, reflecting in the light like rivers at sunrise. Some may say they're beautiful. To her, they seemed to only be a reminder of yet another tragedy;

Aside from the spots of gold, she could now feel slight bumps resembling fish scales on some parts of her body as well as webbed fingers and two long whisker-like antenas hanging loosely from her crown, swaying gently with her movements;

She looked aquatic, like an odd mermaid crossing the lands against all odds;

At first, she shut herself out, refusing to interact with anyone but Steven, though even that seemed to be a challenge when his eyes reflected her new, strange appearance right back at her;

But Steven was always determined to help his loved ones through it all, never giving up on them, even when they lash out and shut it all out and make it as difficult as it can be;

It stated with Peridot, when the barn was rebuild and their little oasis back in it's intended place. And although Lapis was very adamant on never speaking to another gem again, Peridot kept trying to get her best to support her without letting her fall back into her lonely ways;

Everyday Peridot would come to Lapis's room to talk her ear off and offer comfort. Slowly but surely she got her trust back.

Whenever Lapis would feel self-conscious about her looks, Peridot would do something to make herself look as ridiculous as possible. Cover herself in mud, draw all over herself, style her hair into progressively more ridiculous shapes.

Whenever she was haunted by the memories of her past traumas, Peridot would be there to calm her down, wrapping her up in a blanket like a burrito and putting on some kind of old movie to distract her friend from the terrible thought roaming through her head;

She started going out more, flying around the area to take in the beauty of earth or to help with the creation of little homeworld;

She stopped fearing her reflection and started to appreciate the little parts of herself she oh so hated beforehand;

She created and vented her feelings out by arts and crafts, pouring all that negativity into pieces both haunted and gorgeous;

And by the time they found out that Yellow Diamond could reverse her appearance back to it's original form, she had grown to appreciate it enough to refuse the offer;

Some days were better and some were worse, but she now had a family that cared about her deeply and kived her just the way she was;

She didn't need to hide and run anymore, she could count on them to pull her out of the deep ends whenever she felt like she was drowning;

She was healing slowly and feeling a little more okay each day, untill the day she can say she's truly happy again.

Ok so this was a little longer than I expected to write, but man, I got way too into it lmao

I hope you like it! Lmk if you'd like me to change anything!!

📼Mod Nagito📼

[maguro13-2]

Demons Unleashed ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Gaiden Finale (9/10)

[At the Sky Temple/Levitated Ruin Area]

[ World 7/World 5 (Sky) theme plays]

Nami : It was fun while it lasted. I hope fishing here on the back of a flying manta-ray thingy referred to a Rukh by Ali-Baba. But who or why would someone wanted to fish out here in the sky temple that I got staff from or it was probably Enel that gave it to mee since that fishmen arlong got his job out of of the park.

*RUMBLING*

Nami : But if I see anything clearly in my mind, I will give the sense into luffy for eating all the food and spending on my cash to increase. Hope he'll learn anything about sharing my allowance. But this is a Good Breeze, a breathtaking view of this here picture. Nothing changes around here. I wonder it's hard being the queen of the sky, I'm a navigator and I'd like to travel anywhere in the lands, sea, and sky. These gargoyle statutes are great at making roads and bridges to travel around. Being barefooted is never more exciting than this particular start of using a weapon that I can create storms.

Lakitu : That's Kracko's ideal of bringing chaotic storms, I hate to say that, but Planet weathers and climates are always in bad shape or everything gone to hell.

Nami : No probs, neighbor! Any time warm temperature will might make the planet go flooded or perhaps, it's kinda crazy that humanity is making the earth go blue.

Lakitu : Yep. Tell that to humanity's problem about the weather gods, they're ignorant and always arrogant to have the nerves on blaming humanity for causing the planet's climate go to hell all the time.

Nami : I still got things to control the weather, I mean I got business to take care of! So, Happy Memorial Day too, Frank.

Lakitu : Hey thanks, Nami, you too!

Nami : Memorial day, I love to see things that is always a tradition for my dead people, I mean...Nico Robin's mother died on that day and she seems to like it, satisfaction guaranteed.

Lakitu : Hey, Nami. While you're thinking of Memorial Day, should there be a purplish black hole thingy opened in blue sky?

Nami : What Purplish Black Hole thingy? You don't know what it is, man. There isn't...

[Stop the Black Hole - Hideaki Kobayashi]

Nami : ...Holy crap. What in the sweet hell is that!?

"THE INTER-DIMENSIONAL VOID IS OPENED!"

Nami : That can't be a good sign!

World : Help! Help! What's happening!?

*DBZ SFX : Loud BOOMING*

Nami : This is bad! Real bad! I didn't known that this would be an end for earth now!

Lakitu : J*SUS CHR*ST! SOMEONE OPENED A BLACK HOLE AND IS GOING TO DEVOUR US ALL AND THE WORLD! WE'RE ALL DOOM, YOU HEAR ME!? DOOM!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEEEE!!!

Nami : Get a hold of yourself, man! (slaps Lakitu into sense) We are not going to be cowering in fear, we need this info to tell the others that someone has opened a black hole to devour this planet! Who knew that someone was going to do this!?

(cuts to the Obersatory)

Rosalina : Oh no...You didn't. A mad Phantonian Jester has somehow managed to create a black hole that will devour all, or perhaps, it's actually a dimensional black that may erase all including timelines and universes! I hope this will not happen to Real World AU.

Laia Martinez : This is bad! It's going to devour the earth! We gotta do something about this!

Hyuga Wright : There's no way that something big like that is going to destroy all of earth!

Nami : Just how can we stop this chaos at once, how do we not know if there is a way to destroy the black hole!?

Homura's Voice : Chaos...Control!

Nami : Eh?

*Sonic SFX : Chaos Control"

Lakitu : Nami! Where did the heck did you run off to!?

*Sonic SFX : Chaos Control!"

Nami : WOAH! *DBZ : body hit* UGH! (gets up) Ahh, what the heck is going on. (pulls out the Yellow Pure Heart) How did I manage to keep this?

Sonic : What in the sweet hell is this place?

Seto : Man, are we in an early rush.

Rei : Asuka. Asuka, can you hear me. (radio buzzing) Great, lost contact.

Sarissa : Hey, you're that Shounen Jumper Nami.

Nami : I see.

Maka Albarn : Hey, what's going on here?

Inky Albarn : Long time no see, Maka.

Maka Albarn : Inky Albarn. You again?

Inky Albarn : Heh. Still surprised that I got the White Pure Heart in my hand.

Sonic : We all do.

Seto : Not much of a thinker, but how did we ended up here?

Tamaki Kotatsu : Oi, this is not the state of Maryland that I expected, but it seems that I'm not getting into contact with my friends. So why are we brought here anyway?

Nami : To be honest, let's just say that this is the world of Paper Mario, actually, this is the Paper Mario Universe.

Rei : This is really weird.

Nami : Tell me about it.

Seto : As long as I keep the Shinigami council in order, I'll be looking forward to get Master Grim on the Line.

Rei : Well, it's your way. I haven't gotten to the bottom of collecting these hearts that we got from the Eight Pillars that were vessels of opening the door to darkness or perhaps turning the planet into another sun, that's the reason Demon Vibe wanted this planet dead so that would be ruler of conquering the galaxy before he was imprisoned in the same dimension.

Tamaki Kotatsu : You knew Demon Vibe? That's the same entity that created the Ohkuboverse. If Shinra and us would've been involved with that galactic horror, none of that would happen when the Time Eater scolded Shinra and us for creating the world of Soul Eater. That'll be the case of who's worthy and who's--

??? : Enough! The time for speech is over. You have finally collected all 8 hearts of the eight pillars. You are worthy that you finally survived on facing the greatest challenge.

Inky Albarn : Hey, it was worth a shot. I managed to find this from the Great Old One of Power that turns out to be a human girl. It was real nice that I finally collected it in my own hand. Anyways, who are you?

??? : Why, I am Lady Timpani, the guide who brought you all here, a girl used Chaos Control bring you to specific place.

Inky Albarn : Lady Timpani? You must be called the Lady Tippi.

Tippi : Correct-o mondo, Queenie. I'll happen to take care of those hearts, Inky Albarn. You all have collected the eight pure hearts connected the from Eight Vessels. That's real smooth that I wanted to see some action from the eight of you. Look no further less, All the eight pure hearts finally gonna be completed, but that's more than I expected from me and to you all.

Inky Albarn : Really? But where are you?

Maka Albarn : I don't see you.

Tippi : I'm right here, guys. You can't see anyone, doesn't mean that I'm a literally a butterfly with wings for a voice.

*Boing*

Maka Albarn : A what? Wait, this is literally you? You're Lady Timpani?

Tippi : That's Tippi the Pixl to you, young ma'am.

"Tippi : The Butterfly Pixl"

[Happiness in the Mndane - Kenichi Tokoi]

Maka Albarn : Heh. Who would've fought that the mysterious comes from a little butterfly? Pretty cute, ain't it?

Tippi : Hey, who are you calling a cute little butterfly? I am Tippi the butterfly of this here world and show some respect from your elders.

Maka Albarn : What's wrong with saying things are cute and cuddly, I'm still wondering that I couldn't get my mind off of it!

Tippi : I HAVE THE AUTHORITIES TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, YOU IMBECILE!

Inky Albarn : Alright, alright, we get it! Just cut the chatter and give me some slack, I ain't got all day to have this argument with you two fighting over. I don't wanna get all hasty on you all, would I?

Tippi : Oh, umm, right. My apologies. Anyway, I see that you have collected the Eight Pure Hearts of the Eight Vessels, but Paper Mario was the one that is collecting them and not just a bunch of weirdly...crossovers? Eh, works for me.

Inky Albarn : So, that figures that it was us who collected the hearts, I understand that these eight pure hearts is from eight individuals from the Ohkuboverse since it was destroyed in half by the ravenous Time Eater. Well, you could've say thanks for helping us searching these.

Maka Albarn : Easy as always, I have this heart right here. See these doors behind you. They look like is that they are in a rainbow.

Inky Albarn : In a rainbow? Hey, These hearts are where the door leads.

Nami : You're right about that, cause it's like we've been invited for a welcoming party, but this is no party to me.

Sonic : Nothing's a big shot about great parties, so we collected the eight pure hearts to create the doors. Now then, we're can we find the pilars in this flipping paper world?

Nami : But we don't know where they at.

Tippi : Here let my buddies help you out with this one.

Nami ; Really? Who are you buddies.

Tippi : You'll see. They'll be around here shortly.

Barry : (appears from behind Nami) You called, Tippi? Cause we we're right here a moment when I decide to get behind this nice lady over here.

Nami : Hmm? Hey, woah! Who are you!?

Barry : The name's Barry the prickly Pixl, I'd like you to meet the other Pixls, Piccolo, Dashell, and Tiptron.

Nami : Wait, who the heck is Tiptron?

Tiptron : (in a robotic tone) I AM TIPTRON. Nice to meet you.

Tippi : Oh yeah, this robot was made by some lizard geek who wanted to create robotic version of me to get me replaced, don't mind the machine here, she's only optional and plus, I'd like you to meet my real friends, the main ones perhaps. There's Thoreau, Boomer, Slim, Thudley, Carrie, Fleep, Cudge, and Dottie.

Seto : These must be our guides to that will unlock the dimension. Before we can continue, isn't there possible ways that we might take a break from the scene? I brought my Nintendo DS, wanna play?

Sonic : Sure! I got mine!

(scene flips to show the group watching Sonic and Seto playing Mario Kart)

Sonic : Heh! You're not the fast enough to think about my racing skills, same goes to Seto.

Seto : I'm right back at ya, bud! These guys are seriously cooked!

Sonic : I'm gonna win big here!

Tippi : Wow, these guys are amazing!

~ Stage 39 : The Legendary Pixls ~

[tteokdoroki]

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

[josiebelladonna]

iron & wine | part two

pairings: james hetfield x original female character | chuck billy x alex skolnick | eric peterson x louie clemente | chuck billy/alex skolnick/james hetfield | eric peterson x original female character | james hetfield x louie clemente

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, non-con

tags: au - royalty, modern royalty, weddings, las vegas , bets & wagers, femme fatale, blood and injury, leather, stripping, body paint, humiliation, revenge, size kink, threesome - m/m/f, power plays, bisexuality, polyamory, references to fear and loathing in las vegas, dead dove: do not eat, inspired by the scarlet letter - nathaniel hawthorne

summary: While at James’ wedding in Vegas, his fiancée shows her true colors to him as well as the royals. When a bet goes horribly wrong, a game ensues (set in the like blood from a stone universe)

word count: 6,546 (for a cumulative total of 11,546)

ao3 link

no idea why i didn’t post this on here yesterday, but hello! and yes, mind the tags, please. i don’t want to hear it.

I stood there in the hallway with the chocolate in hand and my other hand tucked into my trouser pocket, and I glanced about for Ashley and the look on her face. There were so many questions that flowed through my mind at the moment, and one of which consisted of what she had done to my prince back there in the reception hall. I popped the chocolate into my mouth and then I turned my head to the right.

No one was there. She couldn’t have gotten that far, as it wasn’t that big of a chapel, either, and the whole occasion took place within a block or so from the very heart of the Strip. I could see her from clear across the room as well.

I walked on down to the far end of the hallway there: another glimpse about and nothing came into fruition there before me.

I took another bite of chocolate and, as it graced my lips, a pair of hands crossed over my eyes. I held still with my mouth full of chocolate and I had no clue as to how to react right then. The fingers caressed over the bridge of my nose as well as my eyebrows.

I held my breath.

The body pressed up against my back and I could feel a pair of soft breasts against my shoulder blades.

The hands moved off my face and rested upon my shoulders. Ashley peeked around me with a devious smile on her face.

“Boo,” she caught me, and I swallowed down the chocolate and I looked at her with my eyebrows raised up a bit.

“May I ask what you’re doing back here?” I started with a clearing of my throat. She stepped around me all the way, so I had a full view of her body right there before me.

“Oh, just hanging out,” she replied in a singsong voice. “Hanging out like you and your ‘husband’—” She flexed her index and middle fingers at me.

“He really is my husband,” I insisted with a roll of my eyes.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I saw you looking at my legs back there.”

“I was just looking at your shoes,” I cracked to her, complete with a sly little chuckle, but then again, I wondered as to what she was talking about. I only had eyes for Chuck as well as Chuck from Florida and Joey. Three guys. No coochies to be found anywhere. I swallowed at the sheer sight of her: she squinted her eyes at me as she rested her hands upon my shoulders, as if she was about to give me a massage. But then she leaned in closer to my face.

I turned away from her all to head on back to the reception hall and the safety and comfort of Chuck, and I had reached the bottom when she tackled me from behind. I fell face first onto the floor and the cup went flying out towards the door. She clasped her hands onto my shoulders: her perfume caressed over my nose, and she brought her lips close to the side of my face. I wanted to tell her that I was uncomfortable lying on my stomach with her squashed upon my back.

“Don’t make me fuck you,” she whispered into my ear.

“I do want you to fuck me,” I said with a straight face. “I’ve been a bad boy and I want to be fucked so silly.” As the words left my lips, I realized that she was taking my jokes without a pinch of salt to be found.

Ashley rolled me over onto my back and she stripped off her dress.

She loomed over me with her blonde hair streaked down towards my forehead and shoulders. Her lips parted and her tongue slithered out from the inside of her lips like the tongue of a king cobra. I had no idea as to how to speak to her: everything felt dry with me, but I could tell that she was moist as a lake.

“Dominate me...” she begged me. “Mmm, yeah—so good. So dominant and big and strong—”

I pinched my eyes shut as she ground down on me. I was flaccid but warm at the same time. Completely baffled and beside me.

When I opened my eyes, she was still there, complete with a big euphoric look on her face. Her lips parted to where they resembled the very lips in between her legs and her eyebrows raised up all to accentuate the softness of her face.

I could tell that I was getting her off.

In fact, she held onto my bare shaft, and she took a little condom out from in between her breasts, and she slipped it on for me. She tapped the latex-clad head of my dick up against her clit like the needle of a record player.

I slid right in like a big icicle. She ground down on me as if she was churning butter.

I was getting her off and I was doing the bare minimum of the work done.

But then again, there was nothing pleasurable about it for me.

She had got off on my body and yet I barely came for her. Even though Chuck and I had been arranged into a union despite our own soul bonds to other boys, I still came for him. I still gave him a little pearl of precum out of the end of my dick: but I barely shed any tears for her, however.

Ashley flashed me a big, wide grin in the vein of the cover of Duran Duran’s Rio and then she giggled at the sight of my dick right down beneath her. It was the first time I had had sex with protection on, and it was the first time I had had sex with a woman, too.

She then laughed at me.

“You little scoundrel,” she taunted me. “I barely came just now!”

“What?” I demanded.

“Yeah. Look at me—” She leaned back and showed me her pussy. Indeed, she was bright pink, but she had barely moistened up at the feel of me against her clit or even inside of those crinkled little lips. Barely aroused. She went down on me, and yet she faked her way through the whole thing.

I looked down at my body and I sighed through my nose. If I couldn’t get a girl off, what made me think that I could do that for another boy if I met him somewhere down the line.

“For a tough little boy, you sure aren’t that big enough for me,” she taunted me as she peeled the condom off my skin. “You have to be big to get me off.”

“I’m big!” I declared as I took a glance down at my own dick: flaccid and barely aroused as it was, I would say that I was of good size. Yeah, I didn’t have a big fat throbbing cucumber of a manhood, but I still had something there for myself. My skin was smooth and delicate there, and too often, I would wear snug jeans to make myself look bigger than in reality: it helped when I wore snug black jeans, too. They made me look bigger than I did, plus they accentuated my hips and my thighs to top it all off. I made the effort to look and feel good, even if I had never felt it either way before.

“You’re not that big,” she scoffed at me with a little wag of her finger into my face. “You’re too smooth, too, like one of those silicone dildos that come out of the clearance section of the sex store. I want some veins. I want realness.”

She climbed off me and laughed with utmost hysteria. I felt so ugly and so undesirable, but then again... was I in the right way to feel that way? She came onto me.

“Tiny little Jew boy,” she persisted with that sneer over her face. “I can’t believe you can’t let me have it...” She shook her head and backed away from me.

I laid my head back on the floor.

I could not even remember what she had done after that: my memory faded out from view, and I blacked out after the encounter. I couldn’t stop seeing her on the backs of my eyelids. That devilish look plastered across her face. The feel of her body against my own when I didn’t ask for it. The feeling of her body against my own when I never actually told her that I wanted it.

The fact that my jokes came back to bite me right in the ass... then again, was it really my fault? I was joking around with her, and she took them seriously.

“Alex?”

His voice echoed through my mind as if my mind had become a tunnel of sorts.

I rolled my head over the carpet as I struggled to gather myself within my confused body.

“Alex?”

I cracked my eyes open, and through my blurred vision, I recognized those streams of inky black hair as they sprawled down over my face. I could hardly breathe: my hips and my dick all ached from the feeling. I could hardly brush the memory of her flesh from my own.

I blinked a few times before Eric’s whole head and shoulders entered my view all the way.

“Alex? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel good at all,” I confessed to him, and I cleared my throat. He rested his hands on my chest and I shuddered at the feeling.

“Here, let me help you—” He put his hands underneath my shoulders, and he raised me up off the floor. My head spun in circles, and my body ached from the feeling.

“What happened?” he asked me in a kind tone of voice. I looked at him right in the face as he asked me that. My bottom lip trembled. My body shook.

“Hold me,” I pleaded to him. Eric put his arms around me, and I leaned my head into his chest.

“What happened?” he asked me again, that time in a near whisper.

“She threw herself onto me,” I told him in a low voice.

“Who?” he asked me, and he peered straight into my face right then.

“Ashley,” I answered. “James’ bride.”

He gaped at me.

“You’re serious,” he muttered to her.

“Dead serious,” I said. “You know me, Eric—I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“What the fuck, James,” Eric grumbled.

“I don’t want to blame him, though,” I confessed. “It wasn’t his fault, but hers...” I shuddered from the awful feeling. I couldn’t stop thinking about her body against my own. I couldn’t stop the feeling of her skin against my own. Eric put his arms around me even tighter.

I didn’t want to think about it, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Come with me,” he gently coaxed me. He helped me up to my feet, and he never let me go for one second. He guided me back to the reception hall, where Chuck and Louie awaited us.

James and Ashley were nowhere to be found, and I had no desire to face them straight on right then, either. I looked down at my body, at how ugly it was and how it didn’t belong to me at all. It felt so weird to think about, all because it was her who came onto me.

When I took my seat at the table, Chuck rested a hand on my shoulder, and I shuddered at the feeling of his skin on me. The feeling of his skin on me.

There was a part of me that wanted to have revenge on Ashley for doing this to me, but I wanted nothing to do with her anymore after that. But nothing could stop the desire for revenge over her, to reclaim myself, to feel myself once again.

I leaned forward and I cupped my hands up to my face. I pinched my eyes shut.

It almost felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe at all.

This body was not mine. This body did not belong to me, and it was so ugly to boot. Completely unlovable and unsalvageable.

Chuck lingered right next to me: I could feel his arm around my upper back and his hand pressed onto my shoulder. I almost didn’t want to be touched, but at the same time I wanted nothing but touches. So confusing. So utterly baffling.

I couldn’t fight my body, though. The same was too much to bear that the last thing I could do was fight it any further than that.

I breathed harder as if I had just run a mile.

I lifted my head and I turned for a glimpse over at Chuck right there right next to me with his lips parted ever so slight at me. Those luminous eyes, that long mane of dark, espresso-colored waves down past his shoulders, that sun-kissed skin. Though we had been arranged into our union, I still had my feelings for him, nevertheless. This man was my prince, and I was going to take him to the end of the earth with me.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Alex?” he kindly offered me.

“Get me a new body?” I suggested to him, and he frowned at that.

“Something that can soothe you and keep you intact and at peace with yourself,” he clarified. “Want to take a walk? We are close to the Strip, after all.”

I sighed through my nose. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

I kept my arms folded across my chest as I stood to my feet; I followed Chuck out of the chapel and into the warm, brightly lit early evening. I glanced up at the buildings before us, at the crowns of the casinos and the hotels that resided at the very rim of the Las Vegas Strip itself. One thing that caught my eye was the bright light of the Luxor, bright despite the persistent light of the day around us.

I fixed my shirt collar, and I caressed the skin on my collar bones all the while.

I wanted a shower. I wanted to clean myself off after all of that, especially since she had left me there on the floor and without anything to nourish my body. And yet, when I touched my skin, I could feel the softness inside of there. Maybe it was my body, after all.

“Come on, Alex—” Chuck goaded me across the street, particularly towards the sex shop. The last place I wanted to be was in a place filled with dildos, especially some that resembled to my dick in terms of size and texture, as well as things meant to get your freak on, but Chuck led me away from there instead.

I glanced up to the skyline before us: the point of the Luxor remained within our view every step of the way up the street to the corner.

“Frank Sinatra Drive, Alex,” he declared with a gesture up over our heads.

“This goes into Frank Sinatra Drive,” I told him with a point off to our right. “Right down this way, if I recall correctly.”

“That’s good,” he told me with another gentle pat of my shoulder. “That tells me your memory is doing alright.”

“It could be way better,” I said with a shrug.

The two of us hung that right and we made our way down the street there, towards the overpass and the golf courses there. It would be quite the walk, and it proved to be the noisy one to boot, too. I was happy that that ungodly heat remained off in the distance for all of us there in Las Vegas Valley: it would be another month or so before something as pleasant as this proved to be a chore of sorts. Another month or not, I was happy that we lived in a place like the Bay Area.

As Chuck and I walked along the sidewalk, I paid close attention to the sensations in my feet and my knees, and it moved me in ways that I had never felt before in my life. Never had I been so acutely aware of myself as I did something so innocuous like take a walk and I swear to all that’s holy, I started to see through time. I started to see through time, and I transcended my own body for a moment. But then I returned to earth once again, especially when I accidentally tripped on an upraised part of the sidewalk.

Slightly uprooted, but it was enough for me to catch myself before I completely lost my balance.

Chuck caught me by the arm before I went any further down the sidewalk, and he tugged me back into an upright position.

I ran my fingers through my hair and I gazed on at him.

“Care for a drink?” he offered me.

“After that? No, thanks. Besides, I’m still only eighteen, Chuck.”

“No, I mean, like a glass of root beer or something,” he clarified, and he gestured up the block. There was a little café beyond the overpass, rested there on the side of the street then known as Frank Sinatra Drive, and even from a distance, I made out the sight of the sign in the front window which read something about five-dollar root beer floats and milkshakes.

I did love me a good root beer float and also a milkshake.

A temporary fix to a harsh and immense pain within me, but I yearned for that something sweet, especially there so close to the extravagance that was the Las Vegas Strip.

I took my seat in the booth underneath the bay window on the far side of the room, the window with the view of that edge of the Strip: I spotted the luminous crown of the Luxor between the other few buildings there on the block behind us.

Chuck took his spot right there before me with a glass of water in hand and a smile on his face.

I leaned back a bit, all so I could put my arm up on the ledge behind me.

“Cannot believe she did that to you,” he confessed with a shake of his head. “What was she thinking?”

I shrugged.

“I wish I knew the answer to that,” I told him in a soft voice: I kept one hand extended out before me, complete with my fingers fanned out from my hand.

“How are you holding up?”

I shrugged again. “Slightly better, but that’s not really saying much, though.”

He frowned, and one that I wasn’t used to, either.

“What’s the matter?”

“Where’s your ring?”

I took a second glimpse down at my left ring finger: indeed, my wedding band had gone missing. I had no recollection of ever taking it off before, either.

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered out. I gaped at him, and his mouth dropped open.

“She didn’t,” he quipped.

“She couldn’t have!”

We both gaped at my hand.

“She did!” he said.

“She did! She did! That bitch!” I clenched my fist and the guy at the counter called out Chuck’s name. He ducked over to the counter for our floats: a part of me wished he had gotten us something to eat because there was no way I could stomach the food at the reception. The wave would have to rise again at some point, and I could feel the storm brewing within me at the mere thought of it.

I stirred the spoon inside of the glass: the ice cream was creamy, and the root beer tasted fresh and utterly delicious, and the froth on top had this almost caramel-like glaze to it. It was in fact so good that for a moment, I forgot what had happened prior to then. I gave it a little stir with my spoon, and I cracked a little smile: I glanced up at Chuck across the table from me, who showed me a smile as well.

“These are good,” he remarked.

“They really are,” I said, and I sipped on the straw once again. Chuck peered over the wall behind me all to behold the sight of something there. I glimpsed over the wall myself.

“Here they come,” he told me in a soft, soothing voice.

Indeed, Eric and Louie hurried their way back to us from up the street, as if they were looking for us and they passed the café: the two of them with their collars undone and their pants undone as if they had just returned from a party of some sort.

Chuck stood to his feet, complete with the glass inside of his hand. I turned all the way in the chair for a glance over the top of the wall. The two of them looked so flustered, as if they had been running for quite a while before then. Naturally, I had questions for them.

Once they were right across from the café, Eric glanced about the street first and then he led Louie all the way: it took me a moment to notice that they were holding hands with one another, and my mind immediately flashed on that remark Ashley threw at me about the union between me and Chuck. They reached the side of the café and then they rounded towards the front door.

Louie held a little white piece of paper in one hand, and he handed it over to Chuck in particular. Eric let out a low whistle as he ran his fingers through his smooth inky black hair. They had in fact been running for a long time, after all.

“She lost a bet,” Louie informed us, shocked and slightly mortified.

“What do you mean, she lost a bet?” Chuck demanded as he took the paper from him.

“Ashley lost a bet with her fiancé,” he repeated. “She lost a bet that she had made with him—apparently, they had made a bet to see if she could resist getting down with one of us.”

The two of them glanced over at me, horrified. I rested my hands on my knees and I parted my lips a bit for a bit of a sigh. Nothing could deny the feeling of revenge within me right then.

The desire to dominate her as well as James, all for doing this to me. The desire to reclaim myself, the desire for agency for myself. This body was mine and no girl and her fiancé were going to take it away from me.

“Let’s get him,” Chuck declared to us.

“Him?” Eric asked him. “Why him?”

Chuck glanced over at the counter on the other side of the room, and then he looked back over at me.

“I’ll explain it later,” he clarified. “In private.”

Once our bellies were loaded up with smooth ice cream and root beer, Chuck and I followed Eric and Louie over to the main artery that was Las Vegas Boulevard and that welcome sign right smack in the middle of it. At that point, the night had already begun to blanket itself over the Strip and the lights themselves shone bright, all manner of crown jewels and golden coins there for us, as proper royal crown princes.

“Is there a reason why we’re over here?” I asked Eric and Louie both.

“To give you a little absorption of sorts,” the former told me over the roar of the traffic before us. “Lou and I both think that everyone who turns eighteen must make a pilgrimage to the Las Vegas Strip. It's like a Quinceanera of sorts, but with all the glitz and glamour and freedom. To ride the highest wave known.”

The highest wave. His words rang throughout me as we made our way past the sign and towards the very heart and soul of the strip.

Though night had fallen over us, a part of me wanted to put on my sunglasses and fix my shirt. I was in Vegas, baby: I was the ultimate Vegas boy even if I had no money on my person to spend out on a roulette wheel. Then again, I had my own roulette wheel at the helm, and it came about in the form of Chuck and Eric’s plan.

If we liked to gamble and bring it all to life, then we would be willing to take the gamble, nevertheless.

A little sneak attack on the two of them on their precious day, and one that came in the form of the glittering lights and the pungency of the traffic off to the side. To hand in our poker chips and let the ball roll along the rim of the wheel. To stare at the dealer dead square in the face and beg to him, “hit me” while we have a trio of cards that add up to sixteen.

We walked along a fine line, a fine line that separated sin from impurity. The sight of an empty hell manifested before me, right before my very eyes, and yet I relished every part of it, with every step of the way.

A little game of blackjack as the four of us made our way along the boulevard, the four of us with our hair down around our shoulders and the upper part of our backs. All our bets had been set on black. Souls of black.

It was going to be absolutely worth the gamble the more that we walked, and we reached the rim of the Luxor. We made our way all the way down to the fountains outside of the Bellagio and we figured it would have been best to return to the chapel and ultimately, our hotel rooms.

The four of us had to look our best as we returned to the comfort of our rooms: the last thing I did prior to turning in for the night was take a shower just to remove that dirt from my skin. The dirt of the traffic on the street and the dirt of Ashley having gone down on me without my properly telling her.

This was how dirty boys got clean, and this was how those dirty boys avenged themselves against inane bets on roulette wheels left unspoken.

The morning of the wedding, I awoke to the bright sunlight as it filtered through the filmy curtains onto my bare skin.

I was amazed that I had slept all the way through the night, after what had happened to me. But I awoke that morning with the sunlight crossed over my bare chest and my stomach, and I knew that showtime was upon us following a round of continental breakfast downstairs.

A brush through my inky black hair, especially after the gray sliver at the crown of my head, as if it was my crown jewel. The crown prince, and the prince who dove head-first into the realm of sin. To seek revenge and play the game that had been laid out for me.

The black silk button-up shirt over my body: I had no idea if it was the combination of my own soup with the water there in Vegas, but my skin felt extra soft, especially when I ran my hand down my stomach and onto my waist. Extra soft, and I knew that it had to do with the incident in the hallway.   The black silk hugged the shape of my body as if I was comprised of decadence itself: the richness of red wine, the tempestuous flavor of sin. I had become the darkness out of the desert oasis myself, complete with a sashay of my hips and a sip of the proverbial dirty martini. A dirty dog and a filthy rat, and I was about to bite my way through the wire.

Chuck put on a little black jacket as well as big black leather cowboy boots, which brought a little snicker out of me.

“What?” he asked me as he brushed his hair.

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s just kinda funny how you’re wearing cowboy boots to this whole thing.”

“Why, ‘cause I’m half-Pomo Indian?” he teased me.

“No, no—to be honest, I completely missed that until you pointed that out to me. No, it just seems rather hilarious to me. Chuck is going to be cowboy for a day.”

“We dance at sundown, my prince,” he told me as he adjusted the lapels of his jacket. Without another word, we headed out of the room and made our way downstairs to fetch Eric and Louie.

To go with the cowboy boots, the former had put on a little black Stetson hat and the latter with his little black leather gloves. We not only were going to gamble our way through the whole thing, but we were apparently going to take it all as a stand-off of sorts.

As long as I had my helping of the delicious, sweetest pie known, then I was okay with the whole shtick.

The four of us made our way over to the chapel, where the occasion was already gathering before our very eyes. In fact, there were so many people there that Chuck had difficulty in finding a spot for us right away.

I had more attention focused on finding the back door to the chapel, which I knew would lead me to the hallway to Ashley’s dressing room, followed by James’ little hideaway.

The couple of traditional fucks they were, I knew that they prepared in separate rooms.

We found a spot for ourselves right outside of the parking lot of the chapel, and within range of the sex shop across the street no less. When I ran my fingers through my hair, I knew that I was about to embody everything that that little shop encapsulated, complete with a little drop of poisoned wine to boot.

The four of us strode along the street together, four bandits, four horsemen. I kept my sunglasses on all the way until we reached the front door and signed our names on the guest list. It would be about a couple of hours or so before the nuptials took place: all things were about to fall right into place for us. The four of us gathered at the far end of the front corridor, right outside of the reception room and, as far as I knew, out of earshot of the newlyweds to be, both of whom were nestled up in their dressing rooms.

“I’ll take care of Ashley,” Eric vowed to us in a low voice and with an adjustment of the cowboy hat upon his head. “As far as we know, she cannot resist any kind of temptation of any kind such as this.”

“Yeah, especially if she and her fiancé seem so keen on befouling my prince,” Chuck grumbled as he put his arm around me.

All the while, there was a part of me, deep inside of me, that begged us to show some mercy. Mercy in the form of the demand, “what the hell are we doing?”

But as far as I knew, no one else had seen it happen, and Eric and Lou had found out about the bet and wrote it down. It was the only thing that we had to do, too, or else James and Ashley would have gotten away with it all. Gotten away with going after me, and the reason remained well beyond my own comprehension.

Chuck and I exchanged hugs with Eric before he ducked back towards Ashley’s dressing room down the hall. Louie then turned to us with that stern, stoic expression plastered across his face.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry,” Louie promised to me: he extended a gloved hand to me, and I clasped onto him in return. The smoothest leather, and something that I knew that James wouldn’t be able to overcome for himself.

“I’ll give you the signal once things are ready,” he vowed to us with a wink and an adjustment of his gloves.

Once the two of them had ducked back into those rooms, I turned to Chuck, who adjusted the lapels of his jacket once again.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,” I replied as I lifted my right elbow to him as if to link arms with him.

Indeed, it was a lovely ceremony before the wedding, one filled with delicious, decadent food and a punch bowl: as far as Chuck and I both knew, there was no booze to be found. Strange to me, since Metallica seemed so keen on drinking all the time.

I had finished my first full plate of food when James came running out of the back hallway, complete with sweat beaded across his brow as if he had run a whole mile just then. His face twisted in utter rage, he pointed to me.

“YOU!” he shouted, which in turn made all hundred people in that room stop right in their tracks. “YOU!”

“Me?” I demanded, dumbfounded; and I wondered what had happened back there with Louie. I drank the rest of my root beer before I stood up on my feet. I raised my hands as if about to catch him in his tracks, but he lunged past me to Chuck instead. He sucker-punched him, hard, right between the eyes.

Chuck fell ass over teakettle onto the floor behind us: his legs nearly toppled the table over before me. I lunged for James, and I yanked him right off my prince. Arranged marriage or not, the man was still my prince, and he was my husband: I had to be the good husband and stand up for him.

Furious, James turned to me and grabbed me by the collar. He yanked me into the hallway, all so we were out of sight and out of collective mind.

He tried to throw me against the wall right outside the door, but I kneed him right in the crotch. He let out a wounded yelp but before I could run away, he yanked me back. I was barely shorter than him, but it felt as though he towered over me.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” he growled at me.

“Yeah, sure you will—” I taunted him, and I opened the buttons on my shirt just so he would let go of me. But he never did, even with my shirt open: instead, since he stooped over and held onto his crotch with his other hand, I leapt on top of his back. It was right then I wished that I gained an extra thirty pounds to further subdue him, but I had to make do with what I had in my little body. I pushed him down to the floor.

He wanted to fuck me but now the tables were turned, and I was about to gain revenge.

No one was around and so I peeled off my pants and I slid his trousers down his hips. He rolled over underneath me. But I was on top.

I could look at him dead in the face, the man who had made a bet to see who could treat me like a piece of meat better than the other, as I got down on him from the top. But he laughed at me.

The bastard laughed at me, and I looked down to see my erection out before me.

“I’m huge compared to you,” he sneered at me: the snarl of a lion.

“You may be huge but at least I'll admit it, you bastard,” I retorted back to him.

“Oh, yeah, like you can get me off like Ash can,” he teased me. “Please. At least with her, I can put the cream on her cake the right way. With you, I'd have to put the icing on the cake sideways.” He laughed at that, but I wasn’t close to being done with him, however.

I couldn’t help it: I lunged for him, and I pushed him down onto the hard carpet. At least the carpet was clean.

“Here, Alex, let me help you—”

I glanced up and there was Chuck, with a bump on his forehead but as furious as me.

Both our dicks into James’ mouth. Mine in his mouth followed by Chuck’s hands around his to round out the threesome.

Apparently, Louie had returned to the other dressing room to help Eric with Ashley—apparently, she had this thing where, though he kept the cowboy hat on, it made sense to have a pair of leather gloves in there as well. From what I could recollect, it was Eric’s suggestion to have Lou in there with him, albeit right before she clambered after him from behind.

But it didn’t matter to me at that point, not with my reclaiming myself on the man who did this to me, even with the ache in my back and my knees as well. Chuck was the iron, and I was the wine.   We were gaining revenge, redemption, justice. A tit for tat in the most scrumptious way possible.

“Hey, Alex, you want to take a picture, so we remember this glorious occasion?” Chuck suggested to me as he flicked some of James’ cum off his fingers.

“Let’s,” I said with pride.

I had to scrounge around for a Polaroid camera there in the hallway, but I found it at the far end. I also found a little bottle of what appeared to be some of that washable fabric paint right behind it.

Perfection.

James, delirious and covered in our juices as a means of punishment, was about to have a little more than he had warranted before then with the completion of this paint.

I had thought about painting the demon skull from the cover of The Legacy, and the same skull of which all five of us had tattooed on our arms, but I went with a big letter “A” on his chest instead. That big letter painted in blood red paint, which in turn made me think of the most luscious red wine from the heart of Vegas.

“Hey, Alex, give us some of that,” Louie called out to me from behind. I handed the bottle over to Chuck and he tossed it underhand over to him.

I took two photographs with that camera, one of James and one of Ashley, all for a manner of humiliation. I hoped that they both got off on that because it would be there forever.

I guess, all I could say in response to the whole entire thing was what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. James could deny it all that he wanted, but if this entry is to prove something, it’s that he took a gamble with that woman and then with me, and he’ll have to pay the bank back at some point.

We all have to trade in our poker chips at some point or another, especially when someone like me is involved.

[atveren]

The Monstadt and Liyue boys: You are the victim of a killing game+you as the blackened

Diluc, Venti, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche

Warnings: Blood, Death, Self-Hate, Self-Blaming, Depression Mentions, Swearing, Injury Detail, Execution Detail, All detail described is vivid, but original, slight mentions of suicidal intentions. Be warned, this fic is not for the faint of heart. I’m on mobile, so please scroll past if any of this triggers you.

Based off of Danganronpa, but not many spoilers for the games.

Gender Neutral (You/Yours, They/Them)

Ultimates will be put next to the GI characters names, and yours will be ‘(Ultimate Talent)’.

They still possess their visions

This may interfere with canon, but this is an AU so that doesn’t matter. Also it breaks some rules of Danganronpa, and again this a fanfiction so take that as you will.

The executions will be on a seperate line, if you’d prefer to skip the detail.

Requests are open! For Genshin Impact only at the moment.

Diluc, The Ultimate Winery Owner

Your body is found

Diluc had remained level headed throughout this ordeal, especially since you were there. He believed he had to protect you, and would do anything for you to both escape. It was just another day, during free time when the body announcement played. He sighed, knowing how upset you’d be, you were usually one of the unlucky few that ran into the body first. Unlike usual, you hadn’t ran off to find him. “Maybe they haven’t found it yet..” He muttered, his mind not dare travelling to the darkest assumption. As he walked, he became more concerned. Hopefully, you were just asleep in your dorm and had missed the announcement. As Diluc approached the area, he noticed the guilty glances of others. He was confused, and upon entering the room, he froze. He didn’t want to believe it. There you were, chest slashed open. It was a gruesome sight, he felt sick. He rushed to your side, not wanting to believe this was real. But when he grabbed your arm, and it was cold. He blamed himself, he was meant to protect you. He didn’t want to lose you too. But he did, and he snapped. Nobody saw him until the trial. And when your killer was found out? Well, he almost killed them himself. It wouldn’t be surprising if he turned into a blackened.

You are the Blackened.

“And that would make the killer, (Full Name).” One of the others had announced. Your boyfriend stared at you, in denial. You let out a laugh. “Oh, well done. You got it right.” You seemed nonchalant about it, and shrugged. The voting was quickly dealt, despite Diluc’s protests. When Monokuma announced that yes, it was you, Diluc still couldn’t believe it. He walked over to you. “Why?” He questioned, but his voice was breaking. “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting caught. I wanted us out of here, no matter the cost.” You said with a sigh. You seemed frustrated your plan hadn’t gone through. He stared at you, with shock. He didn’t believe it, he never would. But he knew what came next, you’d both seen it before. He didn’t give the others a chance to get near you, and embraced you. You gave smiled one final time at the Ultimate Winery Owner, before the chain locked around your neck, ripping you out his arms.

Your Execution.

Everyone was silent, as it started, but Diluc stared blankly, and if it wasn’t clear, he was in silent tears. He didn’t want to watch this, but it was like he was in a trance. You were tied down to a chair, something that looked like it was from an older time. There were mumbles about how this would go, most of the survivors being confused. That was until wine bottles were smashed against the ground near you, and he knew what was coming next. He wanted to rush in, and try stopping it, but it was like you could sense his thoughts, and practically froze him with a glare. The next part, broke the man, fully. A match was thrown into the spilled alcohol, and it engulfed the area in flames. Your screams and pleas destroyed whatever happiness he had left. And when the execution was over, he made a mental promise to be joining you soon.

Venti, The Ultimate Bard

Your body is found

The bard was always desperate for his freedom to be back, but he wouldn’t kill, no. Especially not if there was a chance you could be hurt. He’d developed an attachment to you throughout this, and you’d spend many nights in one another’s dorms. You’d listen as he strums his Lyre, one of the few things keeping you both sane through this hellhole. That all came crumbling down, as he was the first to find your body, and screamed. Others rushed in, and Venti was hyperventilating. He wouldn’t believe this, he couldn’t. He refused to leave your body’s side. As much as the way you were murdered made him disgusted to see, he just wanted his moments to say goodbye. “I’m so sorry, (Name)...I failed to protect someone again.” He sobbed out once the others had left to search for clues elsewhere. When the killer was announced, Venti sure did have a few choice words with them. He was screaming, and wouldn’t calm down. His composure was lost, and he wasn’t the same after losing you too.

You’re the blackened.

Venti couldn’t believe his eyes as your name was voted by everyone. And when it was comfirmed? The bard ran to you and clung to your body. He begged you for an answer, and when you said it was for his freedom? He sobbed. He said things he didn’t mean, and you knew he didn’t, not taking them to heart. His gaze was hidden from the monochrome bear, and you nodded at it. Signalling the end of your time. You knew there was no where to run, and you feared that the male you’d loved would be hurt if you made a break for it. You kissed Venti on the forehead, muttering your gentle apology and that you loved him. He mumbled an ‘I love you too’ and you knew he forgave you. But just as the words had left his mouth, you were ripped from him, now facing your death.

Your Execution.

Venti couldn’t watch, he knew you didn’t want him to. “I’m so sorry, (Name)..” He said under his breath, while crying. You couldn’t guess what would come next, when an instrument was shoved in your hands. If you messed up a note, the asphyxiation from the chain would only be slowed, not stopped. You just wanted this over with, and played to the best of your abilites. Venti covered his ears, he couldn’t listen or watch. When it was over, he dropped to his knees still sobbing, and it took one of the others dragging him to get him to move. He was rarely seen again, unless needed. There never was a spark in his eye, like before. Any melody the others heard when passing by was dark, it made them sad just hearing it.

Albedo, The Ultimate Alchemist

Your body is found

The two of you had developed a relationship, both having being considered ‘outcasts’ from the others. He would teach you of alchemy, and you would teach him (ultimate talent). You shared a gentle bond, even if at times it didn’t seem like you were all that close around the others, both minding your own business. It was a late night and you were in his ultimate lab, he calmly asked you to try this one thing he’d been working on, and you agreed, knowing he would never hurt you on purpose. You took the glass from him, and drank it. You soon felt your eyes grow heavy, and it was as if your pulse was slowing. Albedo gently called your name, concern written in his eyes. You couldn’t reply, seconds later, limply dropping against him. He felt panic rise, checking for any sign of life, and didn’t find it. In the trial, he was mostly silent. And upon his guilty judge? He accepted it, he was furious at himself, the one person that trusted him, died by his hands? Who wouldn’t that anger?

You are the blackened.

You laughed as your name was announced and Albedo stared. He didn’t want to believe it, but he did accept it. There was nothing he could change, nor do about this. He wished you’d just spoken to him, and told him to do it. He would have, especially since you did it so he would be free from all this. Your boyfriend approached you, and hugged you. The others muttered things of ‘Well that wasn’t a surprise’ and the like. You gave him a soft kiss, before accepting your fate. “Now! We’ve got a special punishment for (Full Name) The (Ultimate Talent)!” With that, you were chained and tied to a pole. “This is an especially special punishment, made by one your own!” The monochrome bear called out. There were confused yells, people panicking at one another. Who would it be?

Your Execution.

The lights flickered off, then on again. But it was a spotlight. The light fell on Albedo. “What..?” He questioned, staring at the others. Just as his question fell from his lips, an agonizing scream could be heard on your end. Chemicals upon chemicals were being launched at you. The others yelled at him, wondering how he could do something like this to somebody he’d called a lover. Albedo didn’t know, and called out again. “But..I never wanted this?! Especially not for them..” He recieved a laugh in return. “Now now, dear alchemist. If you hadn’t prepared all of these, your supposed sweetheart would’ve just had a quick little death! This is all *your* fault~” Monokuma said with a sing-song tone. He was lying, this would’ve had the same outcome no matter what Albedo did. But, the alchemist believed him. And cried. It was silent, and he didn’t realise it, but he was crying.He fully blamed himself, there was after all no evidence otherwise. It didn’t take long before he was considered dangerous, and avoided

Chongyun, The Ultimate Exorcist

Your body is found

An argument had been a bit too heated for him, and his condition acted up. You’d went with him, to the small area of his lab that was colder than the rest. He would normally come with you there, to calm down. Usually, you were dressed more appropriately for the temperature. You didn’t worry this time, more concerned over your boyfriend. You stayed cuddled close to him, but the temperature soon became too much. You didn’t want to upset him further, and stayed silent. He didn’t notice. You slowly felt your eyes shut, and rested more against him. He felt the weight, and went to tap your hand to let you know that he was fine now. But then he felt the skin that was far too cold. He screamed, and others rushed in. He didn’t forgive himself. He should have known, noticed, anything...Many nights were spent crying himself to sleep.

You’re the blackened

Disbelief, and thats all. He didn’t forgive you, but he did at the same time. He hated and loved you. It hurt, badly. And upon hearing your reasoning? He became more conflicted. He was lucky he brought popsicles, because otherwise it wouldn’t be good for him. He saw your stressed expression and sighed, before walking over and hugging you. You would be dead soon, anyway. This is the least he could do. The moment came all too fast, and then you were gone.

Your Execution

You had to try fending off spirits, but they weren’t real. You grew tired, fast as they weren’t normal opponents, plus the cold chill wasn’t anything better. Chongyun realised far too late he wasn’t mad, and he still loved you fully. He almost called it out to you, but you slipped up and were killed. It was bloody, and he felt sick. He hated this feeling. He just wanted you back, and in his arms. At the very least, you were out of this game, and resting somewhere. Maybe...maybe he would join you early. This was caused by him, after all.

Kazuha, The Ultimate Poet

Your Body is Found

You and the poet were close from the beginning. It hadn’t been long for a relationship to bloom from that. He would also tell you stories of his time at sea, while you both stayed together in the late evenings. You had said to him you just wanted to go grab a book, and he believed you’d be fine. That proved to be a fatal mistake, as when you entered the library, you were killed by a set trap. Kazuha waited, for an hour, before growing worried and rushing to your last known location. Being the library. He saw your body, and the panic rised. He quickly got everybody together, and was one of the main people during the investigation. At the trial, he was the first suspect, being the last person to be seen with you, and for not showing much emotion, but with his evidence, he was proven guilt free and the killer was found. They certainly didn’t expect the insults that flew from his mouth. He was anything but calm now. He’d lost two people by not being there in time, of course he was pissed off.

You are the blackened

Silence. That’s all you were met with. You couldn’t blame him, and you didn’t want to guilt him so you made an excuse as to why you killed. You had done it so the two of you could be free and sail off. You claimed it was because you were bored, and wanted something interesting to happen. He didn’t approach you. He just stared. It was disheartening. He still loved you, he just...he needed time. Time neither of you had. Not when you yelled out an apology as you were dragged to your final moments and any chance he had to let you know he forgives you, was gone.

Your Execution

You were sat in a chair, a book was slammed in front of you. Metallic hands wrapped around your neck and you guess what to do. Maybe...maybe you could survive this? You read, slowly, the poetry in hand. It was a painstaking process, but when you got to the end of the book, and lowered it, you thought it was over. Maybe this was a lucky chance? That was until you were finally choked fully. Kazuha knew he had time to yell it, that he did forgive you. But that was all gone now. You’d never know that he did love you still, despite everything. He’d lost two people close to him, and was now shut down. And tired.

Tartaglia, The Ultimate Freestyle Martial Artist

Your Body Is Found

You’d both taken a habit of approaching one another with an invitation to spar. It had started with him doing it solely to train you to defend yourself, but then it became a game to the both of you. Childe had decided today he would find you, as you’d snuck up often on him. He entered your dorm, calling out your name. What he didn’t expect was it to be a mess, and have things broken. “(Name)? Are you here? Is this a prank....?” He had asked, while walking around, looking for you, but he never expected the site of your cold, dead body under a table. He approached, almost laughing. “Come on now, (Name), this isn’t funny.” He reached his hand out, to grab your own, but being met with the cold feeling, he jumped back. He stared, and stared. He was in denial. He wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t. Not even at the trial. Not afterwards, not even at his own death, did he ever believe you were dead. He knew it was stupid, but somewhere inside he believed that this was some cruel joke, and you would both return home at some point.

You are the blackened

In case you had any doubt, Childe forgave you instantly as the news was announced. You thanked him, and he held you. He wasn’t upset or mad at you in the slightest. However, he was furious at Monokuma, knowing your execution would happen in mere moments. He held you, not wanting to let you go, ever. Tartaglia kissed your forehead, and muttered an ‘I love you.’ You smiled at him, before being dragged away.

Your Execution

A pole was thrown in your arms as these things started to attack, you tried defending yourself, but it was hard. You thought you’d have a way out, but the stage you were on became slippery and wet, and you struggled. Childe felt a fury burn inside bright than before, and ran to your aid, disarming one of the things and using that to defend you and himself. It seemed to be going well, but they were coming faster than either of you could handle. Tartaglia swore he would get you out of there, but that all fell down as you missed a hit and were killed with one blow. Everyone thought it was over, but they kept attacking, eventually overpowering him too. At the very least, you were able to die together.

Aether, The Ultimate Traveller

Your body was found

Aether didn’t believe his eyes, not when he saw the person he promised to be with forever, dead, stabbed so many times and blood marking most of your skin. It was horrifying, some of it wasn’t even a knife, it looked like an axe or something. At the trial, he snapped. He’d already been seperated from his sister, and now this? You were the one person he told everything to. And now you were dead? Aether was beyond pissed. He normally was sweet and pretty chill, but that was gone. All the frustration he had, was taken out on the killer. If it wasn’t for the fact he knew you’d be upset wherever you were, Aether probably would’ve killed them. He also had to find Lumine, and couldn’t do that while dead.

You are the blackened

He had one question. “Why?” He wasn’t mad, or upset, he just wanted to know. And when you quietly confessed it was so he could see his sister again? He cried. He held you close. He didn’t let you go. Not as the votes were cast, not as it was confirmed you were the blackened. He couldn’t be mad at you, after you’d given up your life so he could leave you guilt free? Maybe..there was a way he could save you. He didn’t have time to debate, as you were ripped straight from him. He made a promise if he could, he would try to save you.

Your Execution.

A fight. That was what you had to. Survive the swarms and swarms of enemies. Aether rushed in quickly, not giving anybody time to protest. You both fought, back to back. But it grew tiring, very tiring. Eventually, you were stabbed, and it pierced deep. You dropped down, sobbing out for him, and he froze up. This caused him to be also hit down. The blade was ripped from your back, and he reached his hand out, just to comfort you. He knew this was it, your and his death would be for nothing. Just as he was about to grab your hand, one of the bots stepped on it, shattering the bone. At the same time he grasped his own hand, you were brutally stabbed multiple times in front of him. He sobbed, before being killed off with blunt force to the head. He knew Lumine wouldn’t find out. They’d been seperated again, and she was in another world entirely.

Xiao, The Ultimate Adeptus

Your body is found

You and him weren’t close, per se. But still found comfort in the other’s presence. You and him had this sort of thing where you would watch out for each other. He, however, kept more of a constant gaze on you. Xiao never took his duty to protect you lightly. He slipped up once. You called his name just a second too late. He found the killer fast, luckily. They were luckily he didn’t kill them right there. He was...angry. At himself. Not at you. He made the mistake, he wasn’t watching you.

You’re the blackened.

Forgiven. Immediately. You apologised and all he did was...hold you? He apologised in return, and confessed the feelings harbouring in his heart. You blinked at him, shocked. But you reciprocated the feelings, and told him so. He felt regret he hadn’t said it sooner. Maybe then...but he didn’t have to reconsider his foolish decision as you were dragged down the hall.

Your Execution..?

Run. Thats all you could do. You ran and ran while the monokuma bots chased you. It also felt like you were running out of air. You wanted to survive...and knew what you had to. You called out Xiao’s name, just soft enough. And he had to. He appeared by you and fought to your defence. The two of you ran, and ran more. Amd fought too. It seemed like the exit was in sight. And it was, but it was closing fast and..only one of you would make it. Xiao knew what he had to do, and sped up, shoving you through the exit...and he followed. You were...free. It was surprising and you gasped for oxygen, clinging to him. It surprised both of you, neither of you thinking you’d make it.

Zhongli, The Ultimate Storyteller

Your body is found

Close. You were close from the day you came here. Many nights were spent in each other’s arms, him telling tales upon tales. You’d listen with interest. But that’s the fond memories he looked back upon. Now, he was alone. Without your constant questions, and curiosity. Without your hopeful reminder that you’ll both make it out. All that was left was this trial room, and your to be found killer.

You’re the blackened

Forgiveness, again. He pulled you into the safety of his arms as your confession to the others spilled out. You admitted it was selfish, and you just wanted him and yourself to be free. They weren’t happy, but understood. That’s all most of them wanted, anyway. Zhongli could feel your pulse begin to race, and slowly whispered one of your favourite stories. It calmed you slowly, and you were ready to accept what faced you.

Your Execution

The drag and then being locked to a pole? Painful, much? He wanted to avert his gaze. But you would expirience that, and it would be just rude of him to ignore you. He felt sick watching the Execution happen. Books flew at you from angles and at rapid paces. You sobbed out for help, but nobody could do anything. It was a cruel reality, but...maybe there was a chance? He thought, as your battered body dropped down from the pole...and you moved. It sounded like...like warmth. Safety...You heard him call for you...You tried moving to the sound, and just as you felt you could reach it, your skull was bashed in the final time. He only stared. He was...he couldn’t take it. The pain was overwhelming..He wished he could just take you into his arms and say everything is fine but...it wasn’t. And it never will be.

Xingqiu, The Ultimate Writer

Your body is found

A prank. That’s all it was meant to be, just a harmless little joke. Nothing to hurt you, let alone kill you. Just a simple water bucket prank. But he had no idea you already were heavily injured. And just as he noticed, it was too late. He dealt the blow. He was the blackened. He killed the love of his life, the one person who consistently tolerated his pranks and teases. Xingqiu accepted his fate, with no struggle.

You are the blackened

Denial. Another one in denial. He considered this just like one his books he read lately. You would tell him that everything was a prank, you weren’t the killer. But when everyone called the vote, and it was confirmed. He yelled at you. He was upset, at...everyone, himself included. Everyone..except you. He wanted to tell you, that he was sorry. That he did forgive you. But he couldn’t, as the chain locked around your neck.

Your Execution

Chained down to a chair, and a paper was slammed down in front of you, with a pen. You were confused, but got the hint. You wrote and wrote, which had you distracted from the area slowly flooding. You slowly started to suffocate in the water, but it didn’t bother you. You felt like it wasn’t even happening. Xingqiu started yelling, begging you to try and survive. You couldn’t hear him, only the sound of your own thoughts. And eventually, your body gave out.

Scaramouche, The Ultimate Debater

Your body is found

From the beginning, you had made an agreement. You would watch out for each other in trials, backing the other up, always an alibi. You considered him a friend, and told him so. You did consider him more, but kept that under wraps. But he never reciprocated..at least you thought he didn’t. Scaramouche did feel the same, but thought he’d have time to tell you. He believed you would be there the next day, the day he would tell you. Tomorrow. He didn’t want there to be a chance you didn’t feel the same, but had considered it, because it would be better than you never knowing. He knocked on your dorm, expecting you to answer at the call of your name, but you didn’t...And he grew annoyed, assuming you were sleeping in. He sighed under his breath, before opening the door, and being met with the sight he never wanted to see. Your bloodied body, clutching a letter to your bleeding chest. You were long gone. He swiftly walked over, trying to ignore the tears rising to his eyes and grabbed the letter, hoping to find some clue as to who your killer was. But as he read through it, his eyes widened. It was a confession. To him. In your writing, that he completely recognised. And he felt regret. He hadn’t even told you that he cared about you. As far as you were aware, you were just a toy to him. Maybe at first, yes, but not as of late. During the trial, he was anything but calm, snapping if anybody dared to speak ill of you. When the blackened was found, they were screamed and swore at. Insults hurled second by second. They likely were terrified of him. And when they were executed, he laughed. If it was possible, people feared him more. And tried to avoid him at all possible costs.

You’re the blackened

Keeps defending you, even when it was a lie. When the votes were cast, and you were still found out, he started yelling. For a moment, others assumed he was an accomplice, but you and Monokuma denied that fact. He was still in denial, hardly able to accept the fate that was in front of his eyes. He asks you why? Why couldn’t you just tell him to do it? It’s rare to see him on the verge of tears, but his pride is in shambles. You gave a laugh, with a sorry before fate dragged you to your doom.

Your Execution

It was some kind of...trap. You were just stuck there. The contraption slowly brought you to your doom, or what you assumed to be. With some careful consideration, you managed to slip from it, avoiding the fate planned. Nobody knew this, and assumed you died when it was stopped. Scaramouche was not the one to find you, it was somebody else. They quickly brought you to him, and he hugged you, tightly. He was shaking, and yelling at the same time. He was just glad you were alive, that’s all that mattered to him. You both managed to escale from there, possibly with others.

Well, hope that wasn’t too OOC. Sorry for the gruesome imagines <3 Another angst fic is coming soon! Prepare :)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None for this chap Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Sure, your soulmate may be a vampire (of sorts), but there's nothing that love can't conquer, right?... Maybe it's time you learn a little more about the odd circumstances of your soulmate's existence- and the fear that lies beneath the surface. Notes: If the last chapter was "hurt" followed by comfort, this is "comfort" followed by hurt, also known as the part where the story's central conflict comes into play. Features an appearance from Daniela, who reminds us that Cassandra's not the only one with a sharp tongue around here. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands, 3: Rumbling Thunder

4: That Which Burns

“Of all the stars, the fairest,” Bela murmurs in your ear, keeping her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, before giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have now done so. You’re leaning into her touch, face flushed as can be, loving every moment of this. For a while now you’ve been curled up with her, while she reads excerpts from her favorite works. Although both of you would have preferred to do this outside, enjoying the view of the stars, you figured it would be best not to push your health too much. After all, you had lost a huge percentage of your blood. Well, temporarily, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s probably my favorite line from Sappho,” you chimed, fondly remembering some of your schooling. “Though the one about being remembered always stands out to me. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, and I’m sure it’s been translated a few different ways over the years… but I think it’s ‘someone, I tell you, will remember us in another time’. Might have gotten that backwards, actually.” Giving an awkward little smile, you sheepishly rub the back of your head with one hand. “Either way it feels so romantic. To think of a love so strong that it echoes throughout time, fondly remembered for generations… it warms the heart.”

“Mhmm, most definitely, my dear. Many aren’t as lucky, however,” Bela laments, an odd expression crawling onto her face. There’s the slightest waver to her lower lip as she speaks. Concerned, you turn in place to get a better look, gently reaching out to caress her cheek. Is there something I’m missing? You think, wondering what you should say. “I’m alright, I promise. Merely distracted by a fleeting thought. Let’s read another, yes?” Before you can protest, she’s already turned to another page, starting to read as if she already knew which one was next (which would not, at all, surprise you).

Love shook my heart, Like the wind on the mountain, Troubling the oak-trees

“Oh, if only I could speak Aeolic Greek, so that I could serenade you with tender prose, all the days of your life… just as it was originally written. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Bela offers, once again smiling wide, as if nothing in the world was wrong, at least not when you were by her side. Though you are not keen to ignore her earlier stroke of misery, you are equally reluctant to put a damper on her current upswing. Now what were you to do? Little comes to mind, other than the simplicity of human warmth, and so you lean once more into her embrace, head held aloft on the strength of her shoulder.

“Here, as I am now, is more than lovely enough. Your voice is soothing in any language, sweet as sugar, relaxing as can be,” you reassure her in your softest tone. Heart fluttering, she finds herself easing back into the comfort of the moment, forgetting all about her earlier woes. “Shall we read another?” Nodding, Bela again turns the page and begins to read:

He’s equal with the gods, that man Who sits across from you, Face to face, close enough to sip Your voice’s sweetness

And what excites my mind, Your laughter, glittering. So, When I see you, for a moment, My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire, Delicate fire, in the flesh. Blind, stunned, the sound Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold Tremors over the skin, I turn the colour of dead grass, And I’m an inch from dying.

“Does that make me equal to the gods, then?” You ask, as soon as the last line is given its moment to shine. A small hum comes from your soulmate, who seems equal parts intrigued and confused. “I look in your eyes and my lungs light on fire, my heart ricochets around my chest, and I hear the chorus of angels singing your holy praises. The fact that I can manage to speak at all is confounding. Maybe the muses have seen fit to lend me their artistry, so that I might make conversation worthy of your existence, my dear.” With that said, you find yourself being squeezed gently, Bela placing another kiss against the top of your head. Now, it seems she is the one without the ability to speak. “The divine witnessing the divine, yes?... Let me read the next one, and we’ll see if my voice could ever compare to your own.”

It’s innocent enough, your choice. A turn of the page, just another poem, selected for nothing more than respect for chronology. Yet something drains from the space around you as you begin to read, so subtly slow that you hardly notice.

Girls, you be ardent for the fragrant-blossomed Muses’ lovely gifts, for the clear melodious lyre: But now old age has seized my tender body, Now my hair is white, and no longer dark

How were you to realize that the great shadow of fear loomed over your soulmate, when she had refused to name it mere minutes ago? How were you to know to halt your reciting, when the aching of her heart rendered her throat dry, and she could not bring herself to call out to you? Words poured like poisoned wine from your lips… your soulmate having no choice but to drink up every last drop.

My heart’s heavy, my legs won’t support me, That once were fleet as fawns, in the dance I grieve often for my state; what can I do? Being human, there’s no way not to grow old

A shaky breath from age-old lungs, exhaled into tense air, forced out past a trembling jaw. Say something, Bela tells herself, any poem but this. For a split second you pause, and she wonders if her thoughts have found new light in your own mind. But you break the momentary silence without much care, simply having been unsure of your pending pronunciation of an old name, perfectly unaware of your partner’s panic.

Rosy-armed Dawn, they say, love-smitten Once carried Tithonus off to the world’s end: Handsome and young he was then, yet at last Grey age caught that spouse of an immortal wife

At last her ordeal was over. The final words hang heavy in the air, weighing down her shoulders, but they are done. Her fears had been dragged out from the pit in her stomach, now waving about like dirty laundry. There was only one way for her to avoid this happening another time: Tell you the truth. By now her silence had earned your attention, with you turning in her lap again, concerned gaze meeting her hollow one. Gently, she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I… am not one to balk at the nature of things, however painful the truth. Yet I hesitate now, with the very person I am bound to with crimson ties… How cowardly of me,” Bela all but snarls, anger clearly not directed at you. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself that she has more to say. There’s not much you can do other than wait, though you do tuck an arm around her waist, beginning to rub soft circles against her back. “Allow me to drop the pretenses. You are not immortal, but I am. We’ve only been together for a day and a half, and already I’m worrying about your lifespan. It’s safe to say that this particular poem was an unfriendly reminder of our situation.”

Oh. How exactly were you supposed to respond to that?... Your girlfriend- your soulmate- was immortal. Hmph, as if her essentially being a vampire hadn’t already been enough to freak you out. Now this? Well, maybe it wasn’t too much farther of a stretch from the last revelation, even if you were still recovering from that one. Even then, something told you that this was equally hard for Bela- both to say, and to simply feel. As if she needed more stress surrounding her partnership with you…

“Of all the ways for us to mimic legends… I don’t even know what to say, my dear. I… I suppose that I can only reassure you that we will make the most of every moment we have. However much time we are destined to get, we’ll make sure it is filled with bliss,” you reply, slowly, making it up as you go. An ache builds in the center of your chest as you talk, an internal yearning for greater confidence. Although words were your “weapon” of choice, you were not always a master in your use of them, too human to be infallible. “Maybe we should set aside the poetry for now, shift our focus to something, ah, less meaningful?”

“That would be for the best,” Bela agrees, already shifting like she was going to stand up, before you even had a chance to get off of her lap. Something strange had fallen over her expression, an invisible veil, putting an uncomfortable distance between the two of you. Inside your chest, a thundering heart threatens to go still. Had you done something wrong? Did you commit some unspoken sin? Together the two of you rise, in sync yet more separate than before, a thousand questions and anxieties rendering both of you silent...

—————————

Across the room from you, a pair of bright eyes watch your every movement, peering out from over an open book. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that the “ruse” was intentionally poor. But for all the five hours you had known her, Daniela Dimitrescu had done nothing other than prove herself odd, clumsy, and quite possibly… overconfident. Admittedly, that still made her undeniably more pleasant than Cassandra. If you had to be stuck alongside someone other than your soulmate, well, ‘twas best that it was this strange redheaded gremlin. Even if she had expressed an unfortunate interest in eating you.

Gods, what is wrong with this family? You think, frowning a tad, unable to stop yourself from making eye contact with Daniela. Instantly she’s looking away, pretending to be engrossed within her book. The very same book that had remained open to the same page for half an hour now. I do hope Bela is having more fun right now, with whatever “business” called her away so unexpectedly. She hadn’t seemed happy to have to leave your side, earlier tension notwithstanding. Coming here to the library had been her suggestion, though you doubted she knew that Daniela was there, or at least hadn’t anticipated her sister’s unnerving behavior. Already the redhead was looking back at you, even less subtly than before.

Sighing, you decided that you could only put up with so much of this tomfoolery.

“Are you in need of something? Or is there something on my face?” You ask, setting your own book aside as you do. There’s a few moments of silence, as Daniela glances around the room, as if you might actually be speaking to someone else. When no scapegoats teleport to her rescue, she very awkwardly clears her throat, then moves to sit at your table. Though you are loath to admit it, your heart starts beating faster as she approaches. Not out of attraction, hell no, rather fear. Perhaps getting her attention hadn’t been the wisest choice after all…

“I just think it’s funny,” Daniela chimes, trailing off just long enough to run a finger down the length of your arm, “that Bela abandoned you so quickly. You’re so… fragile. Cassandra told me about the fun little introduction you had to our family- the blood loss, being chained up, the fear you felt when you got caught in our territory.” Suddenly she’s devolving into a fit of giggles, hand resting not-so-gently on your wrist. When you try to pull away, her nails dig in, and her gaze snaps back to your own. “But you don’t remember that part, do you? If you did… oh, we’d have to lock you up, like the little pet you are, to keep you from running away. I’m sure Bela wouldn’t mind seeing you in chains.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You snap, uncharacteristically furious. While it was true that you couldn’t recall exactly how you made it into the castle’s dungeons, you refuse to accept Daniela’s implications about your soulmate, or her assessment of your dedication. A brief second passes where you think she’s about to lunge towards you. Instead, she withdraws her hand, moving it to prop up her chin instead. Then, her lips slowly drag upwards into a wicked grin, wide eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

“So you’re more than a wannabe Shakespeare, after all? A bit more teeth, a touch more vulgarity, maybe a twinge of bloodlust, and you might actually fit in around here. Not enough to get our family’s ‘gift’- our secret to a long, happy life- but enough that Bela won’t grow bored of your sappy poems,” she teases with another string of laughter. Before you can question her about this ‘gift’, she’s all but jumping to her feet, stretching out her arms as she does. “I can’t wait to update Cassandra about you. We’ll be betting on how entertaining you’ll end up being. Try to keep from bailing on my dear sister too soon, alright?”

Just like that she’s disappearing into a swarm of flies, leaving you more confused (and angry) than ever. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on what you need to do next: Find Bela. Talk to her. Get some goddamn answers.

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Could you do some hcs for dating the teen titans?

Yes I can!! I just got HBO Max so I’ve been binging both the animated and the live action series haha 😂 Thank you so much for being my first request!

Also I’m guessing you’re referring to the original teen titans, so if you want the new teen titans just shoot me another request!

Dating the Teen Titans Would Include...

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.0K (About 0.2K per Titan)

Dick Grayson

You must have an insane amount of patience, truly, to be able to date Dick Grayson

If the joke book he probably carries around isn’t enough, I would’ve been certain that the ego would drive you away but nope you’re still here

And that’s how you both knew that it was true fucking love you’re both inseparable and the Titans know it.

To put things simply... he loves you and the Titans fear you.

While you’re both somewhat easygoing and hospitable, one would do well not to piss off one or the other because you both come as a package deal and you can kick ass when necessary you just choose not to embarrass Dick like that because you could totally outmatch him.

Don’t ask him that though he’d insist that he’d win.

Best not bring up the first time you met or else the Titans would never let him live it down

But in all seriousness, I see the relationship as rather lighthearted and enjoyable, maybe a bit spontaneous too. Want to go to the beach? Done. Want to kick some ass in Gotham? For sure. It’s like a match made in heaven.

Not to mention that the Titans rather look up to you, which is a definite plus. Not just anyone can date the Dick Grayson.

Wally West

As opposed to popular opinion... I’d think that this is a rather slow relationship. 

Speedsters are more than just familiar with how life just flashes by so I think Wally would like to enjoy the relationship at a slower pace, he wants it to last as long as possible.

With that said, you’re both menaces. His speed combined with your cleverness? No one is safe and the Titans know it.

The best moment of your relationship, although this is debatable, was when you and Wally successfully turned the Titan tower into an all-out prank minefield. Trash cans were covered with plastic, buckets of water places on doorways, even wardrobes were switched.

And all done in ten seconds, impressive. Nothing quite like starting a war in the Tower then grabbing burgers after, right?

Kind of cheesy but I can see you both having frequent movie nights that differ in genre according to month. You both probably rotate on who chooses the movie too.

Overall I think you both have a lot of fun together, if I were to compare the “vibes” to something, I would say a summer relationship (that obviously lasts longer than just a summer) where everything is just living life as it goes

Nah because like I said before you guys don’t want to rush things, and you’re always there to remind Wally to just slow down every now and then.

I should probably mention that this is a competitive relationship too, before I go, not everything’s a competition but everything’s a competition, you know? It’s a shame that the Titans often get caught in the cross fire though-

Donna Troy

Oh this one’s fun. Donna’s new to this whole “rest of the world” stuff but luckily she has a wonderful partner who’s willing to teach her everything.

A lot of the relationship consists of you explaining things, but it’s kind of endearing despite Donna’s headstrong attitude towards anything

But Donna is also the kind to be open to learning new things, and you’re open to trying new things. It works like clockwork, you’re both young and willing.

Now these “things” can range from baking cookies to extreme mountain climbing so be prepared for anything in this relationship.

Overall I think the Titans see you both as a really cute relationship, one that anyone could be slightly envious of and one that they’re glad that exists

But despite this loving relationship I think you’d both be absolute machines in a battle, I think one thing that is important to Donna is ultimately respect for each other’s abilities, having grown up on Themyscira and all, and maybe that one battle where you absolutely demolished the enemy was when she really caught interest.

Or not. It could’ve also been when you mistakenly ran into one of the glass walls in the tower and she developed a crush over you while you mumbled a series of curses.

This relationship is strongly built on loyalty, so I think you both would be describes as a pair of ride-or-dies who typically tend to lean towards the latter, especially when trying the more extreme things that Donna asked you about.

But overall I think it’s a really sweet relationship with few bumps, they’re still there but I mean that you’re both good at working through them.

Victor Stone

I feel like this relationship is very classical high school romance, you know?

Like walking to class together, holding each other’s books, stuff like that.

But on the other hand I feel like you’re both a very fun couple to be around, like you know how when you’re with some couples it feels like you’re third wheeling? Not these two. You feel like you’re part of the crew

You guys probably switch between fun couple and parent couple every now and then, I can see the Titans relying on both of you a lot for different things.

You and Victor are definitely the type to play games to determine who buys food, like things as simple as rock-paper-scissors to things as complicated as 8-Ball, and so far you’ve been winning at a ratio of 3:1.

Definitely a very trusting relationship, I feel like you both reach that comfortable stage faster than most, but it feels right, you know? I think you’d both understand that relationships go both ways.

There are probably times where you’re both in a teasing mode too, I think, but they’re mostly light hearted pranks, definitely not anything in the realm of what Wally would do

I kinda want to say that you’re a very active couple in that you both like to go to the gym together and idk take hikes together but at the same time I also want to say that you’re both inclined to stay home and play video games so I guess it’s like a 50/50

I can also see Victor being the type to do small acts of generosity as opposed to like buying gifts to show his appreciation for you, like I feel like he’s more inclined to help you with small tasks when he knows you need it, you know? Overall very cute, hehe

Raven (Rachel Roth)

Now this one’s interesting, you and Raven are certainly an interesting duo, but the most interesting thing would likely be how you met. Let’s say it involved a blood sacrifice, a bat, and a very old bicycle.

No you weren’t trying to summon her someone else was you just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time anyway moving on

You’re both the perfect example of opposites attract for more reasons than just one. 

But what makes it better is that you’re always open and willing to learn and understand many of the things that Raven does and she appreciates it a lot

It goes both ways also! She’s always willing to do whatever you ask her to and you both end up having at least some fun even if it happens to be something she isn’t used to.

Random, but I think a favorite pass time for both of you is simply sitting in her room and reading books, weird, I know, but like there’s something inherently romantic about either of you excitedly showing the other a certain passage you both enjoyed or telling them about your book, it’s just so sweet.

She definitely has a personal bias towards you, obviously, Garfield can say a joke and she’d stare at him with a straight face but you could say the exact same joke probably right after him and she would crack a smile and she probably does that on purpose but it still feels nice

You also may or may not have caught on to her incantations and now you may or may not be able to perform these spells but you haven’t tried because you wouldn’t know how to but it’s just telling of how much time you spent together.

I only mention this because there was an event in which you corrected her incantation and suddenly hell fire appeared which she had to figure out how to get rid of and since then you both mutually agreed to both (a) not tell the Titans and (b) not say incantations out loud

Koriand’r (Starfire)

STOP YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE anyway you’re definitely both kinds to see beauty in everything

Maybe this relationship is rather dangerous considering you’re both curious people and Kori happens to be able to shoot lasers out of her eyes so maybe you should both be just a little more careful

You’re both probably very doting on both each other and the rest of the Titans and although you’re both well intentioned it has become a case of “oh no there’s two of them” but in like a teasing way

I feel like Kori is very open to sharing a lot of aspects about her culture with you, and you have always found Tamaran culture to be beautiful so it fits

Likewise you share a lot of things about your culture too and you both bond over finding ways to combine them together to make a nice fusion of understandings and it’s all a sweet combination

See a big thing about this relationship if that you both put your everything into it, it is an equal push and equal pull kind of thing where you both love each other with everything that you have and it creates this unbreakable bond that even non-supers have come to acknowledge

Though this also results in the both of you frequently being in your own world even when others are around and that’s something you both promised to fix but yeah...

It’s coming around, don’t worry. You’re both making active efforts but sometimes it just slips your mind and whoops

Now this should go without saying but this trust often leads to powerful combinations when in missions, you’re both fiercely loyal to each other and this often plays in overall favor so all is well

Garfield Logan

This is a fun relationship, definitely, and one that’s also very fulfilling.

You’re both definitely an outdoorsy couple, things like hikes, nature walks (which I guess is also a hike but I’ve been told otherwise), trips to the zoo, etc. but this all just builds the relationship

Also a very sweet one! You both have an unlimited amount of energy and love that you’re often expending said energy volunteering somewhere and helping others out

But when it boils down you’re both also very touchy, I think, you both like being together at all times and cuddles are a frequent occurrence but at the will of the other Titans you both do this in privacy

I also feel like this sweetness can also “flip,” so to say. As in if someone messes with either of you in the relationship the other will come running regardless of whether or not they could do anything about it.

To put it short, you both have each other’s back all the time. Literally, like I said you’re both inseparable. 

Despite these I think the relationship would actually be rather lowkey, I don’t think he would be the type to constantly showcase the relationship. I think he’d mention it like once to get it out there but after that he wouldn’t flaunt you around.

I just think that Garfield, even with his usual out and about behavior, is rather modest when it comes to this topic because you’re more to him than just someone to show off, you’re someone who’s important to him and overall he just wants you to be comfortable

If there’s one flaw in this relationship it’s that when you have arguments it’s just horrible, but also rather comedic. Neither of you talk to the other but you both end up still being in the same room together subconsciously. It’s kind of awkward but the coincidences are what makes the other Titans laugh and honestly you both make up within, like, a day or something.

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

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Hi! First of all, thank you so much for running this blog, It's become one of three reasons why I haven't yet committed arson (I jest but the Feeling is true). [Hee, hee, hee.] I have a rec for you! It's called "wholesome life usurp immediately" by comfect on ao3 and it's. So good. It's unfinished but the author updates it literally every other day if not faster! It's a lovely fic, I hope you enjoy it. 🌻

Wholesome Life Usurp Immediately

by Comfect (T, 55k, yunmeng sibs, qingli, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: Wen Qing examines Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses and has a cure for her poor cultivation.

Now there are Three Prides of Yunmeng.

Everything kind of fixes itself from there.

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hello mojo!! I would really like to recommend standing still (but we keep going) by lwjromantics!! it's really good!!

standing still (but we keep going)

by lwjromantics (justfantaestic) (T, 5k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji supposed that if having to take care of little A-Yuan and Mo Xuanyu and having to look at the reminders of Wei Ying in their habits and mannerisms was punishment for his actions, he would willingly take it and flay his own back open.

— There are children in the Burial Mounds.

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hii mojo! I just read this cute fic and I loved it so I wanted to rec it :) 

Word Up, Talk the Talk

by Larryissocute (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary:  It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

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Hey! Love your account — and proud of you for taking the hiatus you needed.  [Lol - it was really nice!]  Idk if you take fic recommendations, but I'd love to rec Roots by ardenrabbit. Fantastic characterization, I really love it!

Roots

by ardenrabbit (E, 46k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  After Wei Wuxian's duel with Jiang Cheng, he finds that stab wounds aren't so trivial when he doesn't have a core to heal them. He wakes to find Lan Zhan in the Burial Mounds with him, already beloved by the Wens and making himself at home. When Lan Zhan tells him that he wants to stay and offers more help than Wei Wuxian knows how to accept, he fears that it's only too good to be true.

Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying is doing the right thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he let him do it alone. For everything Wei Ying has sacrificed, Lan Wangji is determined to give something back to him.

Hanguang-Jun has turned his back on the clans to join the Yiling Wens and their demonic cultivator leader, and every clan has a different opinion on the matter.

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Hello! I wanted to rec a fic on ao3 called "Restoration" by jelenedra. It's complete, an alternate universe of the sunshot campaign told nonlinearly. It has strong fairy tale and fae elements, with a touch of mystery. Bit of a fix it. Some delightful one liners, and the final ending imagery is just LOVELY. The fic deserves much more love. There's also some YilingWei, wwx not raised by Jiang, and sentient Burial Mounds elements. Enchanting read that keeps you enthralled and curious and intrigued.

Restoration

by jelenedra (M, 85k, wangxian)

Summary:  They say he was thrown into Luanzang Gang by the man who killed his parents; they say that he is an immortal cultivator who had been in a deep trance until the Wen sect disturbed his rest and incurred his wrath; they say that he is the fierce corpse of a cultivator who had somehow regained his mind and his spiritual powers.

When Lan Wangji sees him for the first time, he understands why people talk.

Meng Yao wants safety. Xue Yang wants vengeance. The Sunshot Campaign wants victory. Yiling Laozu provides, for a price.

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I usually read all your recommendations. Thanks for gathering all good recs of wangxian. I am in love with every single story your recommend especially the favorites. [I’m so glad!]  I just wanted to suggest a fic i came across while searching for phoenix!wwx. Its a new story I think as author has published it today. The first chapter was very interesting that i thought ill recommend it you and know your opinion. The legendary phoenix and his dragon -Devipriya and Hidden Path to Love by ShadowTenshiV

Hidden Path to Love

by ShadowTenshiV (G, 78k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei Ying is a servant working at the Gusu Lan castle. One day he enters through a secret passage way connected to the library where he meets a Lan for the first time. He may have left quite an impression, gaining the other´s attention and slowly becoming friends. They would like to become something more, but a servant can´t be with a prince, but maybe his secret can change that.

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hello mojo! i was wondering if I could make a fic rec? it’s called “and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow” by izanyas. it used to be on ao3 but the author has since moved it to eir own website and has started posting updates there. i was wondering if this could also act as a signal boost bc some old readers on ao3 might not have known that it is now on another website.   Author's been through a tough time so I think it deserves a lot more love.

For new readers, please mind the warnings in the prologue and the beginning of each chapter! it’s omegaverse and a very heavy read as it deals with (possible spoiler) off-screen rape that results in an unwanted pregnancy, as well as secondary gender oppression which runs deep, but for people who can bear it the writing, worldbuilding, and emotions are truly spectacular.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow

by izanyas (E, 270k, wangxian, WIP, link is to WordPress rather than AO3)

Summary: Cangse Sanren was the first of her kind to become a cultivator. Talented, passionate, free-spirited, she bested everything that ever came her way until the very end.

Jiang Fengmian refuses to see her son deprived of that same freedom.

~*~

Hello Mojo! I dunno if this's been recced before, but here's another ficrec for you? It's complete, on ao3, "The Third Young Master of Qishan Wen" by KouriArashi. It's 'if wwx was raised by dafan wen, but gets recognized as 3rd heir due to his skill' scenario. Some really nice banter and characterization. Wwx and lz get together before the sunshot campaign. Story follows the live action but diverges into au, and does some cool callbacks to original canon. Love Meng Yao in this!  [Oh, I know KouriArashi from my last fandom, I love her works!]

❤️The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen

by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, my post)

Summary:  The fic where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Dafan Mountain Wens instead of the Yunmeng Jiang.

~*~

Hi Mojo! I can count the number of times I’ve spoken on Tumblr on one hand (I’m shy heh) but I found this fic that I think you and others would really like? I’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort and this was just too sweet for me not to share (did I go through 20 pages of bookmarks just to make sure you don’t already have it? Maybe …) [Aww, you can do a sidebar search in the bookmarks for the author’s name.  But I hope you found other good fics by carding through the whole catalog!]  It’s “Close Your Soft Eyes” by timetoboldlygo! I also wanna say thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog! It’s a treasure beyond compare. :D [Thank you so much!]

Close Your Soft Eyes

by timetoboldlygo (G, 12k, wangxian)

Summary:  When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

-

On the nights that Wei Wuxian was gone, Lan Wangji woke to gifts on his pillow.

~*~

Hey Mojo! I love your blog it is beyond awesome! [Thank you!]  I was wondering if you would consider reading JaenysBloodcourt series "A Bond to Takes us home"? The summary is weird but I like the fics and would love to hear your opinion on LWJ POV (it's part 2). Part one is Mingxian but part two (Wangxian) reads as a standalone for the most part. Anyways, thank you for all your hard work! <3 [I’ll put it on my list!]

A Bond to Take Us Home

by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 10k, mingxian - nmj/wwx, wangxian, series in progress)

Summary:  Wei Wuxian has two soulmarks. He has two soulmates that seem to be the opposite of him. During his first life he meets both of them, loves only one and longs for the other. In his second life, the one he loved first is dead, and the one he pined after is pining after him.

These are the many tales of his soulmates and the raucous they made across the cultivation world.

Some are dark, some are light. Beware.

~*~

I forgot to send this in for Mother's Day a few weeks ago, but have you read dragongirlG's "into the light of a dark black night"? It's a short canon divergence where Mama Lan escapes the Cloud Recesses after spending one last, heartbreaking night with her sons. It's so beautiful and bittersweet! [Oh, ouch.  I just read this author’s time travelling juniors au, but hadn’t seen this one.]

into the light of a dark black night

by dragongirlG (T, 3k, Madam Lan & sons)

Summary:  The night that Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, plans to escape from the Cloud Recesses, she runs into an unexpected complication.

That complication comes in the form of her younger son A-Zhan running up to her door and kneeling in front of it, hushed whimpers escaping from his throat.

Wu Yuhua knows it's not the full moon, knows that it's not the one day a month she's allowed to see her children—but like hell is she going to leave her six-year-old son out there trying to stifle sobs in the snow.

She opens the door. "A-Zhan," she says, bending down and reaching out a hand. "Come in, my sweet boy."

On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses.

~*~

Hello queen I’d like to recommend for ur follower rec posts Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender by KouriArashi. Banger of an ATLA au, def the best one I’ve seen. It’s a WIP but the author updates pretty regularly and it’s all around an A+ fic [Oh, yes, I’ve been waiting for this one to finish before I jump in.]

Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender

by KouriArashi (T, 123k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  You know the drill. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

100 years later, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli find Wei Wuxian sealed in an iceberg.

Featuring: avatar WWX, waterbending JC, firebending Wens, airbending Lans, earthbending Nies and Jins, Jiang Yanli in possession of the brain cell, et cetera.

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

[freddie-weaselbee]

Capture the Flag//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: Language, Cedric hate (but like loving hate)

Summary: The big capture the flag game had commenced, and Fred quickly found himself captured and thrown into the other team’s slammer. Little does he know he has a cellmate who’s willing to do whatever it takes to win, even if that means teaming up with a Gryffindor. 

Prompts: Detention/Being Detained with dialogue prompts “oh well fuck me then,” and “half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Day 6 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge --au where there’s no voldemort so Cedric’s alive and let’s say Umbridge never existed--

Fred had almost gotten away with it. If it weren’t for that meddling Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory and his band of stupid cronies. 

“You’ll pay for this, you hear me?” he yelled out, but the handful of boys dragging his body across the grounds just snickered and ignored him. 

“Oh shut it, Fred,” said Cedric, walking in front of the group. “You got caught. Rooky mistake. Now, you get to face time.”

Fred groaned, letting his shoes scuff in the dirt in hopes of slowing the boys down, or at least annoying them. It was his own fault he had ended up in this situation. He had gotten too reckless, trying to take on a group of Ravenclaws all by himself. He should’ve known it would’ve been a trap. 

The official student Capture the Flag game was a tradition amongst all Seventh Years that took place the spring right before they graduated. It was completely student-run, mostly because if the teachers found out they would shut it all down, but that did mean that the students could be as creative and brutal as they wanted. Fred, pioneer of horrible pranks and traps that attacked the opposing team, was a prime target for capture. 

The gang of opponents that had captured Fred was slowing now, having reached their destination. In front of him, Fred saw Hagrid’s hut now painted yellow and blue, the house colors of team one. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, but Fred figured he probaby would be fine with the vandalism of his hut as long as they cleaned it up once they were done, and with magic that would be fairly easy. 

“Into the slammer,” one Hufflepuff boy snickered, opening the door and throwing Fred in. “We have one guard watching the hut. Any attempted escapes in which you’re caught result in a one hour penalty from the game, but if you manage to escape without notice--”

“I know the rules,” Fred muttered. “My older brother bloody made them 10 years ago.”

Cedric, who had been standing outside the door, smiled wryly. “See you soon, Weasley. I’ll make sure you’re the first to see us carrying your flag back to our home base.”

Fred mouthed along to what Cedric was saying with a mocking expression plastered to his face. “This isn’t over yet Diggory!”

The other boy just snickered before slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside. Fred raced to one of the windows which had been boarded up for the game. He was able to peak out a hole between two of the boards. Cedric and the other boys were making their way back into the forest, whooping and slapping each other’s backs in celebration. The leader of the group spotted Fred watching them, and before he and his friends disappeared into the trees he cupped his hands over his mouth and called back one more thing. 

“Enjoy some one on one time with the other inmate!”

Fred was confused by what Cedric had just said. Other inmate? What could he possibly…

For the first time, Fred actually looked around the small hut and was surprised to see a girl, clothed in black pants and an emerald green top, headband, and facepaint laying down on the couch, feet thrown over the armrest. “Hello.”

He stepped back for a second, hesitant and fearful. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You gave him an ‘are-you-stupid’ look before sitting up. “Same as you.”

Fred mentally smacked himself for being so dumb. When deciding which houses were on which teams, the four names were thrown into a hat and then two were pulled out at a time. This year, against the wishes of every single person in both houses, Gryffindor and Slytherin were on the same team, which meant Fred was staring at one of his teammates dressed head to toe in your signature house color. 

Still skeptical, as most Gryffindors were of Slytherins, he sidestepped over to a nearby chair, eyes never leaving you. Your face shone with amusement at his obvious fear, and it only made you all the more confident. Godric how he hated that. 

“I’m not gonna bite, Freddie, you can join me on the couch. It’s much more comfortable than Hagrid’s huge chairs.”

Fred’s face tinted red at the nickname. He couldn’t remember the last time you had spoken to him, much less called him Freddie. It made him slightly uneasy, how comfortable and self-assured you were. It always put him on edge. 

Eventually, after a few moments of silence and pondering, Fred decided that joining you on the couch would be fine. You were teammates after all, and what was the worst you could do to him? He sat down, stretching as far away from you as possible. 

You cocked an eyebrow, scooting closer to him as a test. He flinched away. 

“Bloody hell,” you said, moving back to your original position, “you really are afraid of me aren’t you?”

He didn’t say anything. What could he say? You always made him speechless, for reasons he never understood, heart beating faster whenever you were near. He assumed it was out of fear. You were sorted into the evil house after all. 

“My friends all called it too,” you continued, smiling a dazed smile. “They always said that you would get weird around me, something you never did with anyone else. Am I really that terrifying? Afraid I’m gonna bite you in your sleep?” Your eyes shone as you teased him, and he couldn’t decide if it made him want to relax and talk to you or get the hell out of there immediately. 

You leaned your head toward him again, but this time he didn’t move away. You seemed to study him, looking his face and body up and down as if you were taking mental notes of every part of his person.

“For someone so incredibly loud, you don’t seem to talk much when I’m around.”

“I…” He trailed off, words catching in his throat. 

“Well, that’s gonna have to change if we’re gonna get out of here.” You clapped your hands together and stood up, brushing the dirt off your pants and fixing your ponytail. “What’s the plan, prank man?”

He stared at you dumbfounded, even more so than he was before. You reached out your hands to pull him off the couch and he reluctantly took them, brows still furrowed in confusion. “The plan?”

“There we go, I got ya talking!” You cheered loudly, beaming at your teammate. “And yes, the plan. For how we’re gonna, y’know, get out of here and get the flag and beat all these losers.”

Fred’s throat was suddenly dry. A plan? You expected him to have a plan? What kind? He’d been there for no more than 5 minutes and you were already throwing him back into the game. 

“I...uh, I don’t h-have a plan.” 

You crossed your arms, staring down at him and biting your lip. “Really? You, Fred Weasley, don’t have a plan?”

“Why are you talking to me like we’re friends?” Woah. That came out way harsher than he had wanted it to and he regretted it the moment it left his lips, especially seeing you wince at his blow. You covered it up quickly, face becoming darker with determination. 

“We may not be friends, your words, not mine, but we are teammates. And I don’t know about you, but I like to win, and I’ll be damned if I’m stuck just sitting in here for the rest of the game because you don’t want to be partners with the likes of me. Now are you in, or not?”

He hated how quickly your tone had changed, starting as a warm playful banter and now becoming something hard and defensive. For reasons unknown to him, at that moment he would do anything to see that other side of you again, the poised and bold persona you always made sure everyone saw. But it was never a cocky confident, not how he could be sometimes. Rather, it was just assured. You knew what you wanted and what you were worth and you didn’t let anyone give you shit for anything. He envied you for that quality sometimes. The amount of time and energy he’d put into hiding his insecurities, and here you were being more confident than he could ever pretend to be. 

He realized that you were still waiting for a response. Forgetting his nerves and the butterflies in his stomach that were always there whenever you spoke to him, he sat up straighter and mustered all the charm and confidence he usually carried. “You really think I’d let you win and take all the credit for yourself?”

A smile grew back on your face, one that Fred thought he would give anything to preserve. 

“Alright then Freddie--oh, can I call you Freddie?”

He nodded, shyly at first and then more forceful. “Yeah, but I think this would be more fun with codenames.”

Your eyes grew wide at his suggestion and you started jumping up and down, energy rustling inside you just begging to get out. “Yes!” you almost screamed. “Oh perfect, ok, you can be...Eagle 1. Ooo, I like that. And I’ll be…”

“Why the 1 after it?” Fred asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

“Because it sounds cooler,” you replied immediately. You snapped your fingers. “I’ll be Mantis, like a praying mantis. That’s cool. Ok, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Mantis,” he said, holding his hand up for a high five. You had to jump to reach his hand, giggling at the use of the new nickname. 

“Alright, Eagle 1, any observations?”

Fred scanned the room, mind whirling with ideas. His eyes landed on the corner, a brick structure cemented into the wall. “Actually, I think I do have a plan.”

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

“This was a very stupid plan!” 

You had to whisper yell so the guard down below, a Ravenclaw girl, couldn’t hear you. You and Fred were currently on the roof of Hagrid’s hut, holding on for dear life and trying not to make a sound. Somehow, against all known laws of physics and magic alike, you had both climbed up the chimney and had failed to be detected so far. 

“Shh,” Fred said, looking around for a way down without being discovered. 

“What’s the next part of the plan?” you hissed, nearly losing you footing on the steep slant of the rooftop. 

Fred looked down sheepishly, glad it was too dark for you to see his ears grow red in embarrassment. “I didn’t think that far yet.”

His admission almost made you fall off the roof. “Oh, well fuck me then! How are we supposed to get down?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking! Just give me a minute.”

The hut was small, meaning that the girl who was walking circles around the bottom would do a full lap in about 30 seconds, and they would be visible in 15 no matter where they dropped down, if they could even make the drop without breaking a limb. Plus, the noise would no doubt alert her, and no matter how fast they ran she had her wand and would stun them before they got more than 10 metres away. You and Fred had your wands confiscated, which made this whole ordeal much harder, if not impossible. So the ground was out of the running. 

Fred turned his head to the sky, wishing he had his broom so he could soar over everyone. Over everyone… That was it! 

“Come here.” He grabbed your hand, yanking you away from the chimney and to the edge of the roof. 

“Freddie, if you push me off of this I swear to Salazar that I will--”

He clamped a hand over your mouth, effectively cutting you off. You glared at him but stopped trying to talk when you saw what he was looking at. A group of people wearing blue and yellow were not too far off, and they were heading your direction. If they got any closer they would most definitely see the two of you up there and you would be screwed. 

“Listen to me,” Fred said, quickly and quietly. “See that big branch over there?” Fred pointed at a thick branch that was extended toward the hut, about a metre away from the edge of the roof. “I’m going to throw you onto that--” your eyes widened in surprise “--and then I’m going to jump onto it as well. From there, we take the high road, climbing from branch to branch to make our escape. Understand?” 

Before you could say anything, shouts rained through the air. 

“Look, up there!”

“On the roof!”

“Oh fuck, it’s Fred and Y/N, they’re escaping!”

Wasting not a single second, Fred grabbed you under the armpits and tossed you with all of his might, sending you screaming through the air. You landed harshly on the branch and scrambled to keep your balance. Spells were blasting through the air, barely missing you. Fred took a few steps back in order to get a running start, but right as he was about to jump his foot slipped. 

He pushed off with all his might, hoping against all hope that he would still make it there. A spell raced by him on his left side. This was it. He was about to get caught, again. 

Then, against all odds, something grabbed him. He looked up to see you, legs wrapped around the branch and struggling to keep your balance, both on your hands grasping onto his with all of your strength. It took him a second to realize that you had caught him, but when he did he swung his other arm up to grab the branch, allowing you to hoist him up. 

“Stop them!” He didn’t have time to thank you or celebrate the victory. Still holding his hand, you shuffled toward the trunk of the tree, 

“Follow me,” you said, letting go and crawling out on another branch. You hopped from tree to tree, always finding another large place to grab onto or walk across. You both went as fast as you could without putting yourself in any danger of falling. After what felt like an eternity, you both failed to hear any more shouts or voices. You must have lost them in the thick forest. 

“I think…” Fred said through panting breaths. “I think it’s ok to go down now.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to descend down the tree first. When your feet finally touched the ground you collapsed in exhaustion, arms and legs sprawled out. Fred soon joined you, his head right next to yours as your breaths slowed and went back to normal. 

“That was fucking incredible,” he finally said. You laughed, coughing a bit as you did so, and turned to face him. 

“It was, wasn’t it.”

“I’m serious!” he said, turning on his side. “You were amazing. I thought I was a goner. How’d you catch me?”

You shrugged. “I’m fueled by fury and spite, and there’s nothing I hate more than a cocky Cedric Diggory.”

He laughed, reaching out to rub a hand up and down your shoulder. “You and me both, love.”

His eyes widened at the accidental nickname but you didn’t seem to mind. You just continued to smile before sitting up, leaning back on the palms of your hands. “Alright, love, what’s the next step?”

Even though you said the name in a teasing manner, it didn’t stop Fred’s heart from fluttering in his chest. He shook his head, telling his stupid thoughts to leave and never come back. There were more important things to deal with. 

“Now, we get the flag. We just need to find out where they hid it.”

He stood up, staring out at the expanse of forest surrounding you both in all directions. If he were Cedric, where would he hide the flag? 

“This might take a while. We’ll have to scour the West side, the East has already been checked, but I supposed we’ll have to double check just in case--”

“It’s in the tree by the Black Lake.”

Fred froze in his tracks. You had said it so casually, as if you were just telling him what day of the week it was. 

“What?”

“The Black Lake,” you repeated nonchalantly. “I followed Roger Davies as he made his rounds and he kept going back to the lake, like an alarming amount of times. And when we were being attacked at the hut, the group was definitely coming from that direction. And one of them had birch leaves all over her clothes, and the only birch tree is the one that is right by the lake. I say, who would climb that tree if not to hide something? It’s not tall enough to be a lookout tree and it’s not thick enough to hide anything or anyone bigger than, say, a flag. It’s gotta be there.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open, completely dumbfounded. For the umpteenth time that night, you made him speechless. 

“You’re fucking insane,” he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued to stare at you in surprise. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” you said, winking at him. “It’s a gift.”

You reached a hand up to him, asking for him to pull you off the ground. He did so, and you immediately linked both of your arms and started off to your right. He didn’t know how you knew which way the lake was when you were both so deep in the forest, but he decided not to question it. 

The two of you walked in silence for a little bit, you deciding to skip alongside Fred in order to keep up with how fast his long legs carried him. 

“Y’know,” he said, breaking the silence, “you’re a lot more...chipper than I expected you to be. 

Without missing a beat, you rolled your eyes and looked at him. “Why? Cuz I’m an evil Slytherin beant on world domination?” You spoke in an imitation of a dark voice, wiggling your fingers like you would when describing something as spooky. 

“Well, yeah,” Fred admitted, suddenly feeling bad that he had always assumed so much about you that was obviously not true. “You guys don’t have the best reputation, that’s all.”

“Oh and all Gryffindors are superheroes that are meant to save the world?”

“That’s not what I--”

“I know,” you interrupted, “I’m just teasing. I hear it enough anyways that it doesn’t bother me anymore. The people who care will get to know the real me, and those who don’t try just don’t matter.” You shrugged as if it was the simplest thing in the world and Fred wondered how long it must’ve taken for you to be so content with it, how long you must’ve beaten yourself up for something you couldn’t control until you were finally at peace with just being who you were. 

“I want to care,” he said without thinking. “I mean, I want to get to know you. You’re a lot more fun than I expected you to be.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “And how come you’ve never tried talking to me before? We have gone to school together for, oh I don’t know, 7 years now!”

Although you were just messing around, your words hit hard. He had had classes with you for 7 bloody years and not once had he reached out to you for anything other than when you were assigned together for a project.

“You kind of called it earlier.” He said, making you furrow your brow in confusion. “I was a little bit afraid of you. Well, maybe afraid isn’t the right word. Intimidated, that’s it. You’re just so...I don’t know how to describe it, but you make me feel funny.”

“Funny?” you asked, now more muddled than ever. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t kow,” he repeated. “My heart starts racing and whenever I say things to you my mouth starts to go dry. Hell, half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything! I don’t know if it’s cuz you’re a Slytherin or because you’re absolutely stunning--”

“True true, continue.”

He laughed, leaning in to you as he did so. “And so incredibly humble, it appears.”

“Ah, yes, a trait we both share,” you replied. “It was you who deemed himself the ‘Prankster King’ as well as started the ‘Hogwarts Biggest Hottie’ competition just so you could convince everyone to vote for you, was it not?”

“Yeah, and bloody George won,” Fred grumbled. “We’re identical for fucks sake!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think you beat out George on the attractiveness levels.”

Fred perked up. “So you voted for me then?”

“Actually,” you said, an evil smirk growing on your face, “I voted for Cedric.”

His jaw dropped and you took off running through the forest, crying with laughter as he chased after you. 

“You bloody traitor, I’m the attractive one! Get back here!”

You sprinted through the trees, dodging trunks and ducking beneath branches praying that Fred wouldn’t catch up to you. But before you knew it, you had been tackled to the ground, flipping your body around in the process so you were now pinned beneath Fred, heads facing each other. 

Both of you were still laughing, you wiping tears from your eyes at the chase that had just ensued. 

“Say you were lying,” he demanded. “Say that I’m the most attractive one.”

When you refused, he had to resort to a kind of torture that he only used in the most extreme circumstances. He started tickling you. 

“Ok, ok!” you screamed through your fits of laughter. “You’re the most attractive guy here, I swear it on Salazar himself!”

Finally, his fingers released from your side and you were given a chance to actually breathe. It was then that he realized how close your faces were. Mere centimeters apart. How easy it would be for him to just lean down and capture your lips in his, kissing you with all the breath he had left, letting his hands roam up and down your sides as yours got themselves tangled in his hair. How easy it would be to forget about the whole game and just spend the rest of the night wrapped around each other under the light of the pale moon. He dipped his head down, slowly closing the gap, your voice hitching in your throat as you licked your lips and closed your eyes, their color shining so clearly. 

Fred suddenly sat up. Your eyes. He could see them, and he could see them well. The moonlight was shining just enough to allow him to see the color. Which could only mean…

“We’re here.” Sure enough, Fred had tackled you right at the edge of the forest by the clearing, much brighter than it had been in the forest. You both quickly made to get up, dusting yourselves off and avoiding eye contact as much as possible. 

“Well,” you said, not daring to take your eyes off the birch tree in the distance. “Ready Eagle 1?”

Fred smiled, getting his feet ready to make the fastest sprint of his life. “Ready Mantis. On your mark--”

“No I get to say it! I’m the one who got us here after all,” you argued. 

“Ok but who got us out of the hut?”

“I saved your ass from falling off the damn thing!”

“Well I--”

A branch cracking from behind you broke both of you out of your playful argument. 

Fred looked at you and raised an eyebrow, offering his hand out to you. “Together?”

You took his hand and nodded. “Together.”

Fred squeezed your fingers tightly in his, staring at the target ahead. 

“One..” he said slowly. 

“Two…” you followed, catching a glimpse of a blue and yellow flag at the top of the tree. 

“THREE!” You both sprinted through the clearing, feet carrying you as fast as they could as you raced to your destination. A loud whistle was being blown off to the right and shouts came from the left but you both just ignored them as you kept running. 

A huge body appeared in front of you, almost out of nowhere, wand at the ready. You screamed in surprise and hit the person square in the jaw, sending them stumbling backwards until they tripped and fell back on their ass. 

“Shit, sorry Roger!” you yelled back. Fred swore he could’ve kissed you right then and there. 

You both made it to the base of the tree, not sturdy enough for the both of you. “Give me a boost,” you told Fred. He cupped your foot in his hands and hoisted you up, jumping out of the way just in time to miss a hex coming his direction. Your hands and feet moved as if you were a monkey swinging through vines. You heard grunts and yells from the ground but were too focused on the flag to care. 

With one final push, you grabbed it, yelling triumphantly as you gripped the prize with all your might. All you had to do was get back to your team’s side and victory was yours. 

“Y/N!” You looked down to see Fred standing at the bottom of the tree, two more boys laying on the ground and holding their noses. He must’ve taken them on with no wand and still managed to beat them. Fucking legend. 

“Jump down!”

You were alarmingly high up, something that hadn’t occurred to you until just then. It panicked you to think about jumping. Maybe you could just climb back down? But even as you thought about that you saw more people coming, ready to capture you both again. This was your only chance. 

Clutching the flag with all of your might, you jumped down from the tree, screaming as you free fell through the air. You landed not on the hard ground, but in a pair of strong arms that steadied you and held you bridal style. 

“See, now we’re even. We’ve caught each other.”

“Stop flirting and fucking run Fred!”

He did as told, taking off with you still in his arms, the flag in yours. Even though he was carrying your body his adrenaline still gave him enough energy to run like the wind, just as if not faster than many of the others chasing them. 

Over rocks, through a stream, past so many others who tried to stop him. But he wouldn’t stop. He just kept running and running and running until--

“Fred!” Angelina Johnson and George saw you both in the distance. They grabbed their wands out and hexed those in your pursuit, stopping a Ravenclaw girl just as she was about to hex Fred’s legs. You could see the line you all had drawn shimmering in the distance. More Gryffindors and Slytherins saw the commotion and raced to help, slowing down as many opponents as they could. 

You were 50 metres from the line. 40. 30. 20. 10…

Fred’s legs gave out, a mere 5 metres from the line. Someone had finally hit him with a curse, sending him sprawling out on the ground. You gasped as your body hit the ground, rolling across the grass, closer and closer and--

A firework exploded, then another, and then another. The signifier of victory. You looked up to see what had happened. You were on the ground as well, your right arm laying in front of you with your right wrist and hand over the line. The hand that had been holding the flag. 

“We did it!” You didn’t know who screamed, but whoever started it set a trend of wild cries and yells, whoops of victory and laughter filling the air. Your friends were by your side in a matter of seconds, helping you up and to the other side. 

You stumbled a bit, the reality of what happened finally hitting you. “We won!” You and your friends jumped up and down, hugging each other and screaming as loud as you could. You were bombarded with questions, everyone wondering what happened and how you managed to pull this off. Ignoring them, you looked around for Fred, who was starting to push himself off the ground. 

You dropped the flag and raced over to him, grabbing his arms and putting them on your shoulders to help him balance. 

“This is Mantis calling Eagle 1,” you said, barely audible over the celebration. “We did it. I repeat, we did it.”

Fred looked up, face covered in scratches and bruises, but you guessed you didn’t look much better. “As much as I like the name Eagle 1, I think you should go back to calling me Freddie.”

You laughed, leaning your head into his chest. “Roger that Freddie.”

He removed his hands from you shoulders and moved them to your waist, spinning you around in the air before pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “We fucking did it! Suck it Diggory!”

“Suck it Diggory!” you repeated.

A chorus of ‘suck it Diggory’s reined across the grounds, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike chanting it repeatedly. 

Fred finally lowered you to the ground and rested his forehead against yours. “Go out with me,” he said. “On a date. Go out with me.”

“What, jumping off roofs and out of trees and running for your life through a dark forest doesn’t count as a date already?”

He laughed and closed his eyes, relishing this moment and thinking about how much had happened in just a few hours. “Fine, a second date then. Will you go out with me on a second date?”

You brought your hands up to his mess of hair, twisting a lock in your finger and sending shivers up and down his spine. “Only if you promise that it’ll be even more exciting than the first. Think you can top this?”

“Oh, love, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Try me,” you replied, pulling his head down to yours and sealing your lips together in a kiss. 

All of your friends as well as Fred’s just stared in awe, wondering what the hell happened that suddenly you two were snogging in front of everyone. You’d explain everything in due time, what was the rush? And you’d have to make sure to thank Cedric Diggory for locking the two of you up together. How it had changed everything.

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

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[thisisthehardestthing]

18+

GOLD

TENDŌ SATORI X FEM!READER

Pleasant & Strider Present: Fantasy AU Writing Collab. This is a loving dedication to my favorite fairytale as a child: Rumpelstiltskin. 9k words of smut, I apologise for it’s length, but it has to mirror Tendo’s big dick energy, y’know. wordcount: 9,300 Warnings: yandere-ish, virgin reader, oral (receiving), fingering (receiving, penetrative sex, one derogatory word (whore), cheating (this is just to be safe). Nothing too wild, but it’s hella dirty. Tags: @joyousandverywarlike​​ I love you wifey, thank you for beta-reading before we both crashed. Thanks for the eternal hype @whats-her-quirk​​ you make my heart sing! @pleasantanathema​​ , @present-mel​​ and @linestrider​​ . I am so, so happy to have met you three xx

> MASTERLIST HERE <

GOLD.

You pace the small space of your house, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath your weight. The King summoned your father three days ago, and by your calculations, he should be back any minute with news. Your eyes are downcast, watching your bare feet shuffle across the floor, the tattered hem of your skirt rustling with each movement. You sigh, smoothing down the white of your apron and catching a glimpse of your reflection in the polished tin on the wall.

Huffing, you turn away and close your eyes, not wanting to see the worry laced in them. You are a pauper, your father a poor miller. There must’ve been a terrible reason for his presence to have been so urgently demanded at the court. The land has been in crisis for a while now; businesses have started shutting down, and you fear that it is now your small family’s turn to be thrown out onto the streets.

The doorknob twists and the heavy door swings open as your father steps across the threshold, removing his grey cap, cheeks sallow. His best clothing no longer looks dapper but rather worn in, lackluster.

“Father! Welcome home,” you exclaim, throwing your arms around his neck, bringing him in close to smell the lingering scent of a mare and travel. You can tell something is off from the way he half-hugs you, grip weak around your waist. You pull back, that gnawing fear in your gut itching its way up your spine.

“Pray, tell me, what did the King want? Must we shut down the mill?” you ask, helping him to undress, taking his single-breasted coat from his frail shoulders. Was he this small when he left? He chokes back a sob, clutching his chest with one hand to cup your cheek with the other.

“Oh, daughter, my sweet, beautiful daughter,” he begins, his palm sinking to your shoulder, his voice watery as he continues, “that was his original intent, yes.” You feel the weight of his hand pull you beneath the earth, yet there is some hope in your chest as you suck in a sharp breath.

“And what of now?”

“I’m sorry, my darling, I’m sorry,” your father repeats his words, hanging his head before meeting your stare with a shaken one of his own. His lower lip trembles beneath his thick moustache, and you clutch his hand in a vice, it’s ice cold. “I don’t know what I was thinking, it’s madness.”

“Tell me, please.”

“The King asked me if I had anything worth more than the mill to barter with, to absolve us from not affording the tax, and I replied with you, my daughter. You’re worth more than any precious metal to me.” Tears begin to pool in your fathers eyes, and your hands tighten around his, unsure of where the conversation is heading.

“I had told him that you are the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom, however, he cares not for beauty but for material possessions, and without thought I exclaimed that you could spin straw into pure gold,” he says. You gasp, releasing his hand as if made of ice, the cold burning you.

“Father!”

“I am to send you to him by tomorrow evening. You’re to leave on the morrow. I will pray that your beauty is enough for our King to be merciful.”

Merciful? The King is anything but. You feel your world begin to crumble. How are you to spin straw into gold? That is a power only the Fae possess, and you tremble at the thought of what will happen once the King realizes your father has lied.

***

The looming gates of the castle are opulent, brass shining bright in the late afternoon, glinting against a peach and lilac sky. You have ridden on your father's mare through the day and can feel your thighs twitch from the exertion. You’re weary from the hot sun, the travel, and your frantic nerves twist knots in your stomach. Soldiers in fine armor stand to attention, and although they do not move, you can see how the men leer at your features, feel the difference in status crawl over your flesh like spiders.

Although you are wrapped in a dark green cloak, you feel bare beneath their stares, as though they can see the beige shift dress. Clutching its opening tight against your body, you keep your eyes straight ahead to avoid contact with any lingering gazes. You dismount, giving your horse a final stroke before you follow servants into the stone castle.

They walk fast, and you struggle to keep up, taken aback by the marble floor. The stained glass windows litter a rainbow of colours against the white stone, dancing across your skin as you walk through it and into a large hall where King Ushijima is waiting for your arrival. He’s handsome, but the scowl on his features twists your intestines, knotting them intricately. As you move closer, however, his eyebrows begin to relax and lift, his eyes widen, only slightly, taking in your appearance. You keep your head bowed in respect, eyes on the tips of your leather slippers peeking out from beneath the cloak.

The servants excuse themselves, and the doors close. All you hear is the beating of your heart and the drumming of the Kings fingers against the armrest of his throne.

“Lift your chin, girl.”

The King’s voice is gruff, commanding, and you find yourself obeying and straightening up tall so that he can see your face. He huffs, standing up and walking down grey stone steps that seem to glitter in the candle light and the last of the sun. The red of his coat is akin to blood, and it sweeps graciously around his tall frame as he stands over you.

“I thought your father was lying when he said his daughter was the fairest maiden in the Kingdom, yet he has proven me wrong. It gives me hope that the other claims he has made are not false and you may not hang in the morrow after all,” he announces, peering down over his nose at your frame. “Follow me.”

“Your Majesty,” you curtsy, and trail behind the King as he leads you through the high ceiling hallways of the castle, up and up and up the stairs, to a wooden door.

He pushes it open, the weight of the door pulling a groan from the iron hinges and steps aside for you to enter. The smell hits you first, earthy and overpowering, and you see towering piles of straw completely covering the floor and walls. In the center sits a spinning wheel in a pale birch. Your heart drops to your stomach and you feel the colour drain from your face. This must be a dream, a cruel, cruel dream.

“You have until the sun rises to transform all this straw into the finest of gold, or I will have to sentence you for trickery.”

With that, the King shuts the door. You hear the lock turn with a resounding clank. The room is shrouded in darkness and you fall to your knees, sobs uprooting in your chest at the predicament you find yourself in. You tug at the ribbon of your cloak, letting it fall open to the floor as you cry, the tears silver in the light of the full moon shining through the window.

You sob for a while, tremors shaking your body as you curl in on yourself. You barely notice the door open an inch, pale fingers curling around the side before a head with hair the shade of pomegranate peers at your sunken figure.

“Oh, ho ho! What have we here~?” a lilting voice shocks you. Your head snaps up to watch a figure bound into the room. He is tall, waif-like, with heavily lidded eyes. Your breath is snatched away as you gaze upon his hair that seems to stand on end, as though wind travels through the air, but the room is still and the window shut. The door was locked, how did he enter?

“Why are you crying, little girl?” The strange man asks, bending over at the hips with his long fingers reaching out to lift your chin up, wiping at the tears under your eyes. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, feeling embarrassed for your weakness, and being called young. You are of proper age at three and twenty.

“I have to spin all the straw into gold before the sun rises or I will be hanged. It’s an impossible task and I’m not sure what to do!” you begin to cry again, the tears streaming down your face and slipping down the nimble fingers that hold your jaw. The stranger tuts, tilting his head as he regards your solemn appearance.

“It’s not impossible. What will you give me if I complete this task for you?” There’s a smirk on his lips, and a glint in his garnet eyes that ensnare you to fall into them.

“I have nothing on me to give, I am a pauper,” you whisper, ashamed of your low class. The hand withdraws and you see him stretch up, a hand on his hips as he waves at your body in a grand gesture, fingers seemingly bending backwards.

“False, you have your beauty, and I am a lover of beautiful things~,” the song in his voice then drops an octave as he asks again, his eyes narrowing as if you���re prey, “so what will you give me in return?” You ponder his words, feeling blood flush your cheeks at being complimented by someone so boldly.

“I can only gift you a kiss,” you finally say, pushing up to stand. He eagerly grabs your arms, tugging you close, against his chest. You smell spice and the green of the forest after a heavy rain, transporting you to a far away land, an escape.

“I accept this trade~.” His lips crash against yours, soft pillows melting into your skin. He tastes like molasses, sweet yet dark. The kiss is bruising and his hands wander across your back and down to your waist, pulling you ever closer, letting you fall drunkenly into the taste that is him. He pulls away too soon and you have to bite the protest from escaping your lips.

Humming an odd tune, the stranger sits down at the spinning wheel, picks up a handful of straw and weaves it into a glittering gold thread. It takes only three turns of the wheel before the bobbin is full and he picks up more straw. Like this, he works throughout the night until all the straw has been transformed into precious metal. You’re still drunk from his touch, mouth agape at his elegant movements, and when you next blink, the work has been completed with plenty of time before the sun is to rise.

Wordlessly, he rises from his seat to tower over you, cupping your face delicately between both palms, he plants a lingering kiss to your forehead. He resumes humming, a devious smirk on his mouth as he saunters out of the room and the door closes behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness.

The sun rises, and the King walks through the door with a purpose, expecting for you to have failed at the test. When he sees the glittering gold in the morning light, his eyes darken and a smile splits his face in half as greed consumes him.

“You can live for another day, but do not think you are liberated yet. I will need you to prove it to me once more as this could be the work of illusionment and fade throughout the day,” King Ushijima booms. Turning on his heel, he strides out the room, ordering you to follow.

He leads you into another stone room, this one larger than the previous, filled with even more straw to the top of the ceiling and you start to feel dread claw up your ribs, piercing your skin. There’s no telling what would happen the following morning.

“Turn all this straw into gold by the morrow and I will let you live,” the King states, and curtly exits to leave you alone with the scraps of your freedom.

You spend the entire day in the room, pacing and crying at the thought of failure. When night falls and casts its shadows, you hear the door click open and a familiar tune carry through the air. The handsome stranger from the night before curves around the door, peering at your frightened yet hopeful body. The moon is brighter tonight, almost full, casting a glow around the room and onto your skin.

“Miller’s daughter, you need not cry~,” he sings, making you freeze at the mention of your father’s profession, but the tears continue to pour down your face. He closes the distance between your bodies with two steps of his long legs. His flaming hair wafts around him as he wipes the salted water from your cheeks.

“What will you give me tonight if I spin this straw into gold?”

He notices your brow furrowing and sees how you swallow down your nerves. It makes him want to chuckle at the depravity of his question. You are so innocent, and so desperate for help.

“You are a maiden, are you not? Unwedded, unbedded?” The stranger asks you and he feels how your cheeks warm beneath his palm, letting his smirk twist into a wide smile. You nod, shifting awkwardly under his hold. He drops his cool hands to your shoulders and his skin is the colour of porcelain in the moon’s light. “Then give me your first sexual death in return.”

You step backwards, bewildered, unsure of his advances. You can’t let a man defile you in a way that is meant for your husband, yet here he is, requesting something so perverse. The memory of his lips against yours, the weight of his palm into your waist, flood your mind and you forget to breathe. The straw seems soft enough, your head swims. The King’s warning echoes in a chill up your spine, so you agree to his offer, which is met with a cunning grin.

Either you weigh less than a feather or he’s strong as an ox when he lifts you by the waist and over his shoulder, the round of your ass in the air, which he playfully taps and elicits a squeal from your tear-swollen lips. He hushes you while spreading a pile of hay with his foot.

“You cannot be too noisy, little girl~” he sings, placing you gently on your back, crouching between your ankles, “we wouldn’t want anyone to hear you.”

He seems utterly feral as his deft fingers ghost over your calves to thumb the hem of your simple shift dress. The fire in his eyes burns with impatience as he bunches the fabric up over your knees, to the gentle curve of your thighs where the hem of your breeches end, until it's on your waist. He takes a deep breath, you hold yours, and with your heart beating in your ears, the drawstring of your undergarments comes undone.

You realise he’s humming that strange tune when you shimmy out of your modesty, and the song hitches in his throat when your untouched cunt comes into view. It turns into a low moan and then a whistle, throwing the cotton pants behind him.

“Your sheath is as beautiful as your face, cunning as it calls out to me.” There’s no hint of rhythm in his voice, but rather a deep vibrato as lust takes over and he licks his lips. It makes your heart throb, pounding in your chest and in the delicate skin of your sex.

He lets his strong, long fingers knead the flesh of your thighs, smooth and supple under the glow of the moon, inching them upwards. You bite your bottom lip to keep from sounding out, sure in the fact that a guard may pass at any moment. The wine-haired man shuffles forward, pulling apart your legs until you’re spread for him, accessible. You can feel the blush start from your pubic bone and catch fire all along your body to heat the very top of your head. His intense stare summons your need to shut your knees but he lays down to his stomach, wedging his body so that you are at his whim.

“Has anyone ever touched you here before?” he asks, the palms of his hands so large they cover the meat of your inner thigh, his thumbs ghosting over your outer labia. Your head falls back in shame— no, anticipation. His movements are precise, teasing, and you shake your head to answer him.

“No one, you are the first.” You say silent thanks to the Lord that your voice is unwavering, breathy, and the strange man’s eyes darken to sangria.

“Lucky me to be the first to taste the sap of your fruit, your ripe nectar~!”

His thumbs glide over the soft casing and into the fold between your inner lips, unfurling them, your clit jutting out as the skin pulls taught. You suck in cool air as the nerves tingle against his warm breath. A second passes, and then three more and you’re almost tricked to relax when you feel a wet muscle press against the opening of your cunt. You shiver as he moans, the tight muscles tingle within you; your spine lifts into a delicate curve in response.

He wastes no time in making you writhe, lips encasing the displayed clit and sucking powerfully. You feel yourself drop into him, hands flying down to grab his hair, fingers burying themselves in his locks. There’s immense pleasure, instantly. Tiny shockwaves travel outwards from his mouth into your feet, and they curl in the straw, bending, snapping, folding them beneath your toes.

Soft whimpers escape, struggling to keep them contained as you bite down on your lip. No sooner than a minute must’ve passed for you to feel the heat building in your chest, the tips of your ears burning and your core clenching.

It feels as though a spring winds itself, tighter and tighter, your walls oscillate and spasm around nothing and his warm tongue laps at your slick and sucks at your clit. It draws alphabets and circles, spinning you into a dizzy haze and when he inserts the tip of one of his long, magical fingers, you lose it, snapping that cord within you.

The moan you’re holding back releases, freeing your soul as your eyes roll to see the stars in your mind, a bright light, la petite mort. Your body goes rigid and you can only see black, think of nothing but your own ecstasy as it rolls through your body, tremors in your skin.

The finger withdraws, the mouth gives a final suck, jolting you, and then a lick to lap up any remaining juices before the nymph-like man in front of you sits back onto his haunches. He leaves you trembling in your orgasm, analytical eyes absorbing the far away look on your face.

“And how did death feel~?” he asks, likening your orgasmic wave to an ascension to heaven. His voice returns to a playful tune, coaxing you back to earth.

“I’ve never known such pleasure,” you admit with tears in your eyes and longing in your voice. There’s a small bout of shame in your chest from greed at wanting another, from him.

“Now, you do, hmm,” he hums, trailing off into his signature beat as he stands and begins work on the straw.

You watch him from the ground, tugging up your undergarments with heavy limbs and smoothing your shift down. With three spins of the wheel, the handful of straw is transformed into a full bobbin of gold. The curve of his spine hunching over the machine ignites a curiosity in your mind. Who is he? What does he want? Why is he helping you? But the focus in his eyes, the cheery tune he hums and light tapping of his feet forbids you from asking him these questions.

He’s a savior of your life, there’s no need to know the reason.

The nymph works until two hours before dawn, at some point you drift off into a light, sex-induced slumber, but wake the moment he stands and stretches his popping spine. He gives you a final look, sucking on the finger that was in you, before skipping out the door, humming. It shuts with a click, the lock back in place. You are to live another day.

***

You hear a cock crow thrice before the door opens and the King stands, almost as broad as the frame. The gold in the room reflects in his amber eyes and in the glint of his adornments on his cloak and crown. You curtsy low until his voice booms.

“Arise, girl. You have kept your word and so I will keep mine, your father is free from his debt.” He rubs his chin, rings catching the rising sun as he muses out loud, “however, with a daughter like you, it’s a wonder there were dues to be paid.”

You curtsy again, saying your thanks, expecting to leave the castle and be back in your village by the following day, but King Ushijima has other plans. The sight of all the gold has swallowed his mind with greed, and the thought of being the richest King in the world is a goal that is so near, so attainable. He peers at your frame, slender from malnourishment, your simple garb, the way you instinctively shrink under the gaze of someone with so much of a higher rank than your own. It’s enticing.

He leads you to a third room in the granary, larger than all the others, the center of his stores. He sees the confusion and worry on your features, waving his hand around the room as he explains.

“Turn all this straw into gold by sunrise tomorrow and I shall take you as my wife.”

The glint in the Kings’ eyes is dangerous. He thinks that even though you are but a miller's daughter, low born, he will never find a richer wife. There’s no room for refusal as he turns to leave, ruby red cloak flurrying behind his tall frame and the door shuts for the third time that week.

You’re dazed, swaying uncontrollably as you fall to your knees, the stone floor bruising. The thought of becoming queen makes you giddy, nauseous, terrified. Although you’ve had help these last two evenings, what’s to say the stranger will appear again? And at what cost will it be? Tears prick your eyes, and you think of the last time you were happy; when you weren’t trapped in an exchange for your life.

The sky melts into orange, geranium, the sun falls below the skyline. Your heart follows, dropping to your stomach as it turns and you dry heave. The lock clicks, the door swings open, and that familiar, welcoming hum returns. The stranger practically hurtles into the granary, fingers like the crest of a wave as curls and swings from the ends of his arms.

“Innocent girl, why are you crying again~?” he sings, stooping low to cup your tear-stricken cheeks. His fingers are cold against flushed skin.

“I am to turn all this straw to gold by sunrise. He will make me queen if I succeed and if not, I cannot bear to consider the consequences!” you wail, peering into the quizzical vermillion eyes of the waif, nymph, or whomever this magical being is. His laughter echoes in the room, deafening your ears with it’s cadence.

“And what will you give me if I complete this task for you?” the question is not a surprise, but you have no answer, shaking your head as your lower lip pinches between your teeth in regret.

“There’s nothing left to give.”

The hands on your cheeks grip harder, fiercer, beneath your jaw to pull you up to standing.

“Nonsense, you are a virgin, are you not? Let me do this for you and in return, give me your maidenhood.”

His request is so shocking, so taboo, that it takes you several seconds to comprehend. Your mouth drops, heart hammering away at an unfamiliar beat in your ears. You tremble. There’s no way you can give him what is meant for your husband. He seems to register that thought as soon as it flies through your mind. His hair crackles like lightning, standing on end, his eyes are dark and stormy, and although he speaks with a song, his words are dangerous, dragging you beneath the waves.

“Surely, your virginity is not worth your life?”

With nothing to barter with but your body, you wonder if there is an alternative. Will the King realise you have been tainted if the marriage is consummated? You hope he does not. The stranger's tongue clicks, his hands fall from your face to leave the skin cold and you feel the desire for their return coursing through your veins.

“Time is wasting, Miller’s Daughter, do we have a deal?” his question flips over in your mind, your fingers wring together as you stare up at the looming figure. There’s impatience in his eyes.

“Yes.”

He claps his hands together gleefully, before interlacing them and stretching overhead. Tonight, he doesn’t collect preemptively, sitting down at the spinning wheel to begin. A hand full of straw is scooped up, the wheel spins thrice and the bobbin fills with glittering gold thread. It clatters to the floor as he begins on the next spool, his work methodical and timely. You watch him for a while, the way his heart shaped face is complacent, as though it was second nature to practise this magic. He hums that strange tune. His skin is milk under the pale glow of the moon, and suddenly, you’re thirsty.

Memories of the previous night play through your mind, clear as though a mirage. The way his eyes surveyed you over your mound, the obscene noises you made when his tongue dipped into your tight hole. It leaves you dizzy, breathless, and the enormous room is all of a sudden too small, too confined. You begin to pace. He never stops his humming. The sound bleeds into your pores, into your veins and pumps through you. It calls you to touch him. It’s wrong. You can’t. The night drags on and you don’t notice his song stops, or that he’s standing behind you.

His hands snake around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so that your head hits the firm muscle beneath his tunic. His nose finds refuge in your hair and with his inhale, your breathing stops.

“Mmm, you smell like fresh snow,” he mumbles into your skin, the meaning behind his words not lost on you: uncorrupted, untainted. It sends shivers down your spine and there’s a crackle in the air as every muscle in your body freezes.

His palms drift lower to rest on the meat of your thighs, digging to inch the fabric up slowly, methodically, until the hem is in his grasp and he pulls it over your head to leave you near-naked in the gold-filled room. Your bloomers are tied in a simple bow that loosens with a tug, the cotton dropping down your legs. You haven’t taken in oxygen yet, your lungs screaming at you to breathe, your knees trembling under his shadow. You gulp air hastily.

It is not that you do not want him, in fact, your body craves the very touch he bestows. You’re frightened, anxious at the implications of the act you’re about to perform. He spins you around, and you find those ruby eyes glinting down at you with ravishment, devouring the apex of your nipples in the full moonlight before tracing the length of your collarbones, the line of your neck and jaw, and feasting on your lips.

The way the lid of his eyes wilt, pupils widen, instinctively ushers you forward and into his waiting kiss. Your lips barely touch before his tongue darts out to swipe yours, tasting you impatiently. He’s waited far longer than he usually would to take what he wants, and he’s almost reached his limit. You’re pliable in his grip, body bending and arching with his palms, pressing your bosom flat to his chest. With rough fingers, he trails them up your spine, inciting a moan from your throat, filling the room with a richer sound than the clinking of golden yarn. He almost falls apart at your whimper when his teeth nip at your lips.

His hands advance up, scorching before touching the base of your skull, fingers wrapping around to grip the soft skin of your neck beneath your ears. His palms are so large, manipulating your body so that your jaw tilts up, away and you lean back onto his forearms. His lips slide from yours, trailing fervent kisses down the column of your throat. It’s all you can do to keep up with his strokes. Your lack of experience is evident when your hands dangle lifeless at your sides, almost touching the floor as he bends you backwards to lay down on the hard stone.

It’s sobering, clammy, welcome against your heated flesh. The stranger continues his descent. You feel gravel pressing into the blades of your shoulders, and you shift unpleasantly. All is forgotten when your right nipple, trembling and painfully erect, is captivated by a silky, moist touch. Your saviour suckles, bites, licks, and the static in your skin begins to crackle at his touch, threatening to spark. Luckily, there’s no more straw to ignite a fire. Your left breast is stimulated by massaging presses, five fingers gripping roughly, but not enough to bruise. No, there will be no trace of his defilement on you tonight, for now.

The other hand trails down between your legs, dipping experimentally into your slick folds, testing the waters. Your wetness had begun to grow when your imagination raged earlier, in truth, you don’t think it disappeared from the night before. You bite back a moan as a finger toys with your clit, the shivers current your spine in small convulsions. There’s a warning that you might come undone with just this, and he feels it too, the pulses of your walls contracting the muscles of your lower abdomen.

As though controlled by the impending orgasm, your body moves. Gripping his wild hair harshly, your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling to see nothing as the explosion rips through your body. He does not stop sucking at your nipple, flicking the bud harshly, a finger tracing lazy circles to your clit as you fall back into your body. His lips move to the side of your breast, planting increasingly desperate kisses into the plump flesh. Your grip does not loosen, it follows the winding of his head as it trails to overwhelm your collarbone, your throat with heavy licks.

You can feel a fresh burst of slick drip from your slit. He catches it knowingly and his face lifts from your skin to peer into your eyes. He brings his coated finger to your parted lips, pressing your nectar onto your tongue. It’s tart, musky, unlike anything you’ve tasted before. You swallow it down into your aching stomach, feeling the flames of your orgasm dwindle. You want more, and he sees it in the hungry way you suck. And oh! How he wishes it was his cock sheathed between your plump lips.

“Isn’t it splendid~?” he sings, pumping his finger in and out of your mouth, your tongue curling around to massage the individual knuckles automatically. There’s a heavy silence in the air, your breast is squeezed. You realise he’s waiting for you to answer, even with your mouth full.

“Yesh,” you fumble with the syllable, warmth spreading to your cheeks and he seems glad with the answer. Removing his finger for his palms to push up a knee, he leaves a gentle kiss on the bruise from your morning fall into despair.

You’re spread for him. He only then realises how clothed he is. He retracts his touch, tugging his tunic over his head to reveal smooth, unblemished skin that reflects the golden thread and garnet hair. He’s a stained glass window of colours, an inferno burning bright. It’s breathtaking. There’s a trail of red hair, enticing you to look lower, beckoning you to discover what is underneath. He doesn’t remove his breeches completely, choosing instead to loosen the leather lacing on the front, the fabric splaying open to unveil phallic gold. It makes you squeal, the implications of what is upcoming ramming into your chest, your body humming with ferocity. An eyebrow quirks up in response, along with a simpering chuckle.

“How amusing,” he quips, wrapping his large hands around an equally thick and long cock.

“Will it fit?” you can’t help but ask. Surely not. His laugh is raspy in response, erupting from deep within him rather than on the tip of his tongue like his usually lilting words.

“It will. Or I will make it.”

There’s something in his tone, in his ambitious stare, that sends your skin into overdrive, shivering and vibrating with anticipation. You’re openly waiting, nerves fissioning and calling out. He answers. Your mouth drops open, gasping in shock. It's so soft. And wet. The head of his cock slides up between your folds, tapping your sensitive bundle of nerves teasingly. He’s teasing you, making your hips shake and twitch. A hand comes to stabilize you, pinching the bone. Your eyes are wide, heartbeat in your ears and cunt and when you lock stares, time freezes as his hips move.

You’ve never seen a wider grin on someone’s face. It’s wild, face splitting, imitating your stretching slit as he slowly inches in. There’s a low whistle, a hum, turning into a chuckle as you feel a pressure unknown begin to build within. It’s choking, your throat swelling and with no inhibitions, you moan. Heaven above, hell below, all listens attentively as the desire to be sinfully fucked explodes in your womb. Your hands scramble to grip onto something, him, slinging them around his neck to pull him low. There’s a grunt, his breath tickling your ears, and a jerk of his hips as he sings,

“How needy, how desperate, How infinitely tight and perfect~”

It melts into your skin, the same rhythm as the hums you’ve grown accustomed to. The wind of his words fan flames, your eyes rolling back to escape the heat. But oh, how it’s inside you, boiling in your veins and you clutch on tighter as his hips rock into yours. Each pulse of your walls around his cock makes him vibrate, giddy as he pulls out an inch, only to sheathe himself in completely once more. He hears your whimpers against his neck, so soft, so delicate, not enough.

He sets into motion, plucking your limbs from around his neck, pinning them above your head as each snap of his hips jostles your being. Your simpering cries turn into moans and before you realise it, you’re screaming out for God and his Angels to witness the rapture happening within these stone walls. The man keeps a hand on your wrists to secure you, the other to your sensitive breasts, pinching and massaging as he grins salaciously.

Those fingers trail down the soft skin of your stomach, watching as it leaves indents against your skin before the flesh plumps back up. He raises goose-pimples, your shivering spine clenching your cunt tighter. Each thrust sends a ricochet through your body, bouncing it up before it falls back in rhythm. His blunt nails trace from bone to bone of your hips, lowering until it runs over the tuft of hair on your mound.

There’s enchantment in his eyes, reeling you in deeper, lulling you into a sense of security. A thumb finds your hooded nerves, grinding down until you see stars on the roof of the granary, past the glowing face of your savior. Has the ceiling fallen away? How magnificent. They reflect in your eyes, in the shine of drool on the corner of your lips, your tongue darting out to lick it up before you suck down.

“More.” The words are a caress to his ears, and the smile on his face splits wider until it swallows you whole. All you know is his touch.

He can feel you slipping beneath the waves, your silken walls oscillating around his girth. He leaves your wrists to grab your right thigh, lifting it so that it rests on his shoulder. With your hands now free, they fly out, pressing into the stone floor like trying to stay afloat as the swell of the ocean begins to ripple within you. It’s torrential, the rain within, and unlike before, when it was just his fingers, the dam explodes.

You feel perfect wrapped around him, dragging him down into the depth of the sea along with your desire. He doesn’t want it to end, no, he can’t let it end. He pistons his hips, the rhythm knocking the air from your lungs as he nears his release. The stars above give way to black, then white, and he sees it in your face as you reach a higher plane of existence, one he knows only he can provide. That fire returns, lighting up your insides, evaporating the spray of the ocean, making room for the foam of his seed to take place and fill you.

His hips slow, the fluids within you stirring around until you’re dizzy. Your thoughts can’t be strung together, mind blank. Satisfaction ripples in every corner of the room: carnal and raw. It can be tasted on the air, like the salt on your skin. He withdraws from your swollen walls, adamantly watching as the efforts of three days trickle out of you. His pounding, soaring heart drops as he thinks of the morning. He’s grown addicted to you, he realises. You’re his. This cunt should be no one else's, he’s ruined you for all men, he’s sure of it. It’s dangerous, this feeling in his chest, the plan hatching in his mind. You will not be able to forget him soon.

The rise and fall of your chest is soft, your body exhausted and blissful as you’re already in a post-orgasmic slumber. He traces your skin with open palms, seeing the way you react, even asleep, to his touch, committing your curves to memory. You’re angelic, surrounded by gold. His gold. He stands, limbs heavy, before snapping up to stare at your splayed out frame from above an upturned nose.

“I’ll see you soon, Queen,” he hums beneath his breath, waving his hands so that you’re dressed again, clean and tidy, prim and proper for the King to inspect the room within an hour. He skips out the door, the bounce in his step a little more pointed, sharper, and the lock clicks back in place.

***

You’re sour, like wine stored in the sun. Once married to the King, he promised you that you never had to work another day in your life, the gold spun from straw enough for twelve lifetimes over. And he was right. Your days are spent doing nothing. You have time to spare, and more often than not, you find your thoughts drifting to a red haired stranger, his face contorted in lust, desperate for the taste of your skin. It has been a year since your encounter with him.

It’s midnight, a waning half-moon. There’s no sleep. It has been avoiding you every night, so you lay awake next to your husband. The rise and fall of his deep breathing does little to lull you, and your body is charged with a sexual fire. You’re unsatisfied; richer than you could’ve ever dreamed, but unsatisfied.

Like many nights now, your fingers creep beneath the silk bed sheets to swirl at your ignored sex. A soft sigh kisses your lips as your nerves tense up at the touch. Before you can stop yourself, you hum a familiar tune that melts into your skin as you stroke to the rhythm. With your eyes closed, you picture that strange man that brought you to a place of such intense pleasure, something you had not felt since that night. The next morning when you woke, you had only the residue of what he left behind between your legs. That was the only proof that it was not a dream.

Like the swell of a wave, it begins to crest. You spread your ankles slightly wider, tapping the King’s legs delicately. He stirs but doesn’t wake. He never does. Your hums come out in ragged breaths as you imagine every thrust, every pinch against your body. And when his hands grip around your neck, you almost break against the shore of your orgasm. The familiar smell of forest wafts around you. Are you so starved that you can conjure up scents and touch?

Your eyes fly open, staring up at twinkling rubies above. A dark grin is spread onto a face you had not seen for a while. A cool hand is against your throat, floating up to palm your lips and halt a squeal that would’ve flown from between them in shock. He raises a finger to his lips in a signal to keep quiet, eyes darting to your husband face up next to you. He hums lowly before he whispers to you.

“What do we have here~?” his voice carries a jovial, teasing tune, releasing your face to peel back the edge of the sheets and reveal your naked form. You cover your breasts with one arm, the other snaking down to press flat against your quivering sex. Your orgasm had been so close before it was snatched away, the thoughts blazing through your mind nothing except immoral.

“Does the King not satisfy you, millers daughter?” he pokes at your thigh, hard fingers trailing up, leaving burning lines that sink into your pores greedily. You swallow down the rising heat in your body, the shame of being seen touching yourself.

“I am queen now,” the husk in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by the strange man.

“Ah yes, but you are still your father’s daughter,” the pinch of your hip jolts your being, and you snap your legs shut, the bed bouncing slightly. King Ushijima grunts, rolling to face away from you and the intruder. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“What are you doing here?” you ask the man, slowly sitting up right, shielding your lower body once more with the covers. His grin falters at your actions, feeling a tightening in his gut at how you hide what’s his. He swallows down his fury, standing upright. His form blocks out the little light trickling in from the moon outside the window.

“I had come to steal you away from the comfort of your new life,” his eyes flicker to the back of King Ushijima, his voice hushed and low, disdain dripping into his words, “it’s the only proper way to pay for my skills, afterall.”

You swallow down your nerves, feeling a pooling of heat between your legs at the thought of being carried far away, somewhere wild and unknown. It’s an escape you would not be against. Long fingers reach to caress your hair, picking up a strand to twirl it. He inspects the way you shiver under his touch, feeling pride at the reactions he can evoke from your body, but his eyes are hesitant. You may very well not want to leave behind all you have gained in the year.

“Please do.”

That same grin reappears on his lips, splitting his face wide open with giddy pleasure. Oh! How he was not expecting the night to unfurl like this at all. He can feel the desire roll off your skin in waves, and he drinks it in. He can’t give you what you crave so easily, he must play a game with you first.

“Oh ho ho, miller’s daughter, how desperate you are! I can taste it.” he sings, palms boxing either side of your thighs. The touch doesn’t dip the bed, as if he is made of air.

“I will give you three nights to find out my name, or I will leave you here with your eternal longing for more than what he can bequeath,” he propositions, the words dancing around you. How badly do you want to feel such pleasure again? You barely have to think.

“Three nights,” you agree.

With a squeal, he leaps away from your bed, skipping over to the door of the chambers. It’s a miracle the sleeping King besides you remains asleep. Or it’s magic. Head swinging around to looking at you with such intensity, you almost melt as he says one last thing.

“Don’t touch yourself until then.”

***

That night, you have no rest. All the names in the world run through your mind, but how are you to know which one is his? You spend the day compiling a long list, feigning it as names for a future child with the King. ‘You are getting old, I must have an heir within the year.’ It was a curt discussion, not one open for arguing. It is also why every night has been loveless tumbles, only leaving your core soaking with his seed, but nothing grew inside you.

The sun sets below the horizon, the moon rising and you sit next to a warm fire in your chambers. The King is passed out on the bed, fast asleep and unaware of your musings. You can feel how the slick inside you trickles out, unwanted but you resist the urge to wipe it away. It is your wifely duties, after all. Instead, you focus on calming your nerves, trying to untangle the knots in your belly before the strange man visits. He enters, skipping soundless as he hums under his breath.

“So, miller’s daughter, what is my name~?” he flops unceremoniously onto the floor next to you, head coming to rest on your lap. His lidded eyes stare up at you expectantly, a knowing smirk on his face at just how difficult of a challenge he has given you.

You begin to list the names compiled, with each name, he shakes his head, ‘that is not my name,’. As the night drags on, he tantalises you with what you so badly want. The laced hem of your night dress is hiked up around your knees, his unabashed fingers cloying with the soft skin of your thighs, inching closer to your dripping cunt.

“Abel, Balthazar, Oikawa, Hisoka,” you recite, each name getting huskier as he teases you. He barely touches you, instead feeling the remnants of the Kings spill, before pulling back and standing. The movement jostles you.

“The sun is rising, you have two more nights.”

His usual lilting tone is gone, voice hard. He wipes the semen on his finger against the black of your dress, leaving a patch of white, and strides out the door without looking back.

The next day, you send out messengers and knights to scour the town for new names, asking every servant in the castle for theirs. As evening creeps up and your nightly tossle with the King ends, you clean up all that is left over with a dampened washcloth. The stranger peers around the door, taking in the sleeping figure of the King before floating into the room. The static of his gaze as it rakes over your skin catches flame, and the fire beside you seems to dim against the red of his hair.

He leans over you, hands gripping the arms of the wooden chair as he asks you the question. You begin to list the stranger of the names you’ve heard, Martinko, Rumpelstiltskin, Melchior, but each time, he replies that it is not his name. His breath ghosts over your face as you speak, his eyes closing to listen to the whispered cadence of your voice. Instinctively, you widen your legs for his to slot between. He falls to his knees, cheek once more pressed against your thighs, lips mumbling quiet no’s into your hips. With a deep inhale, he smells that you are clean tonight, and it makes his heart soar. His fingers come back to stroke beneath your dress, a deep forest green. You don’t stop saying names.

“This task is impossible,” you whisper out of breath. He had two fingers up to his knuckle inside you, pumping lazily as you recite. Like many times throughout the night, he stops his movements at the brink of your collapse, pulling back to suck at your nectar. He licks his fingers off fluidly, trapping your gaze in a trance.

“You have one more night, or you remain unsatiated,” his grin splinters at your will, a groan tearing from your lips in the quiet room. The crackle of the fire had stopped hours ago. The King twists on the bed, mumbling under his breath at the noise.

“Hush, miller’s daughter, don’t be so desperate.” the man warns, standing and skipping over to the door, humming as he shuts it behind him.

On the third day, you ache for sexual release. The opulent castle walls seem too small for you, and so you wander around the forest just outside the walls. With the sun shining overhead as you stroll, it warms your skin to the degree of the never ending heat between your legs. The earth is soft, and with each step, you seem to fall in deeper to the ground, wanting it to swallow you until you’re no longer charged and lusting.

You are seconds away from turning back when you hear a familiar hum, except this time, there are words. You hide behind a tree, peering out at a small clearing in the woods. Red hair dances like the fire in front of him. The stranger moves around the fire in a trance, celebrating something unknown. You strain to listen in on the words he sings.

"Today I dance, tomorrow I sow, In the evening, I will steal her away from home. And oh! I am glad that she does not know, That the name I am is Satori Tendō!”

That night, you can barely contain your gaiety. You even enjoy the love-making your under enthusiastic partner pounds you with. You take in his heavy touches, the way it doesn’t bleed into your skin, but rolls off like oil with water. It’s your last night with him after all. He’s deep asleep, you had slipped something into the drink he has after the ritual.

You’re waiting for Tendō to enter the room, humming his tune under your breath as you pour wine into your chalice. The nightdress you’ve worn is a red, like the seed of a pomegranate or the sky when the sun sets, the colour of his hair. Sturdy arms wrap against your waist to pull you back against a muscled chest. He laughs into your ear, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Tell me, Queen,” he spits the name out as though it was too bitter for his taste, “what is my name?”

Feigning ignorance, you list names for the final time. ‘Jack, John, Harry’, hands stroke up the back of your legs, dragging the linen up until your bare ass is on display and pressing against a growing bulge behind you.

“That is not my naaame~” he sings, kissing the side of your neck. Cupping your breast with one hand, the other snakes between your thighs to swirl around at the mess he coaxes from you. You can’t hold in the whimpers, tearing up at the touch given to you after almost a year of loveless sex.

He had introduced life beyond living in those three days, and it was so close now, you can feel it between your fingers. His name is on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back. It’s not the right time. He folds you forward, your chest resting on the table top, your head turned to see your sleeping husband, so blissfully unaware of the presence in the room. Tendō pulls at the strings of his pants, letting the leather slip down his toned thighs, lining up the head of his cock with your pulsing core.

“Daichi, Bokuto, Ryunosuke,” you mumble out, shifting back against him to feel the silken hardness poke at your folds.

“No, that’s not my name, miller’s daughter,” and he presses in. With all the strength you can muster to not scream out, your knuckles grip the table's edge at feeling so stretched out.

“Oh, fuck,” you swear, the crude word not suitable to pass from a lady’s lips. It sparks a chuckle from the man thrusting into you. He inches in, knees going weak at feeling your walls wrap so deliciously around him once again.

“What’s my name?” he asks, the snap of his hips with each word. Your body jostles against the table top. You moan, clenching around his thick dick.

“Tendō.”

He freezes, twitches inside you, and you hold your breath in anticipation. A large hand wraps around your hair, pulling it up so that your back curves, tightening the space that clamps down on him between your legs.

“Who told you?” the question seeps into your skin, chilling your bones with their weight. He begins to pound into you again, pace picking up considerably to attempt to rouse your husband from his sleep. The sleeping aid you gave him is strong, but you still worry he would see you, not that it would matter after tonight.

“No one,” you moan, pushing up against the wooden table to try and lessen the tug on your scalp.

“Lies!” he roars, fury fueling his thrusts. Although he is getting what he ultimately wants, he has lost the game of cat and mouse. You have won. Oh, how his blood boils. A hand snakes around your throat, squeezing as he fucks into you with ferocity. You cry out, whimpering his name over and over again. Each time it leaves your lips, he feels his anger dim, and instead begins to revel in how the syllables tease his ears, echoing in the room.

“Who told you, whore?” he asks yet again, not expecting you to react to the rude name. It’s all it takes to fall off the cliff within you after three days of bringing you near the edge. Your skin is on fire, being called a ‘whore’ bristles your nerves, scratches you, and you need more, another orgasm, another death to ascend higher.

“No one, I swear,” you retaliate by bouncing back against each thrust with as much vigour as what he pours into you. “I saw you- uh, in the woods, singing.”

He slows, stills, and leans to kiss at the moist skin of your exposed shoulder. With a smile, he manages to twist you around, unsheathing for a second, only to reenter when you’re seated on the table. Legs spread around his waist, you cross your ankles behind his back to draw him closer.

“A promise is a promise, Tendō,” you whisper, arms locking around his neck to pull him close to your lips. “Take me away from here.”

You close your eyes in the kiss, tasting sweet molasses, smelling rain and dirt, and when you open them, you’re not in the castle anymore. Trees reach up past where you can see, multicoloured stars shine in the night sky. You laugh, the sound bubbling from your chest, and Tendō grins, dipping to litter kisses along your neck. His hips begin to move, your fingers curling into his hair as you moan louder than ever before.

You are free.

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

fuck, this is long. sorry! I hope you enjoyed it.

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