#this is why they had to transfer to sword
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pseudopigeons · 8 months ago
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I think it would be really funny for kobarimeppo / sword trio to be down bad for their respective romance dawn trio counterparts
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emile-hides · 9 months ago
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Just learned Ash Hat Pikachu were redistributed in Pokemon Sword/Shield in 2020 and I completely missed it. I don't think I'll ever emotionally recover from this.
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captain-hawks · 10 months ago
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patience
soshiro hoshina x f!reader
It's more than a little difficult to hide your attraction to the Vice-Captain of the Third Division when you accidentally find yourself sparring with him in your pajamas in the middle of the night. Especially when he's wearing that goddamn shirt.
wc: 4k
c: 18+ ONLY, smut, slight power imbalance, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), edging, unprotected p in v
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“You get sloppy when you’re tired.”
A knee digs into the back of your own as you find yourself pinned face down on the training mats, the steady grip of a hand trapping both of your wrists against the small of your back. The vice-captain’s voice is tinged with amusement as he lets you go, easily dodging the kick you send his way as you roll in the opposite direction and jump to your feet, breathing hard.
“Fuck you,” you pant out, though there’s no real heat behind your words.
He raises an eyebrow.
“—Vice-Captain Hoshina,” you finish, offering him a patronizing smile.
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Hoshina begins to circle you slowly, “Officer Furuhashi had to do seventy pushups last week for that, ya know.”
While he’s not wrong about your sloppy footwork, the late hour is hardly the top contender of blame for your piss-poor performance in this impromptu sparring match.
Rather, the real issue at hand is the workout shirt that Hoshina’s currently wearing, the black, skin-tight material leaving little to the imagination as it clings to his firm, defined abdomen. 
Clad in nothing but your pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you had made the mistake of slowing down to peek into the slightly ajar door to the training room on your way back to the dorms, curious who was still awake at such a late hour. Your breath had hitched at the sight of the vice-captain working through a series of complex sword maneuvers by himself, mouth going dry as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of his bare hands and arms—features normally obscured by his suit on the field—and that goddamn shirt.
Naturally, he’d spotted you lingering and cajoled you inside, mouth curving sideways in a smirk as he reminded you of a few glaring mistakes you’d made earlier during training with the squad.
Now, your level of exhaustion is a moot point when it’s all you can do to reign in the traitorous swell of desire building in your chest as the sleeves of his shirt dig into his biceps each and every time he moves. The muscle that keeps fighting against the high neck of his shirt isn’t helping, either. 
This heady, insistent tug you feel toward him, this dizzying, smoldering attraction that has a penchant for clouding your better judgment—it’s nothing new. Your eyes developed this unfortunate habit of instinctually straying to the vice-captain the day he volunteered to give you a tour of the base when you transferred to the Third Division, a problem that only increased tenfold the first time you had a front row seat to his…competency in dual swordsmanship.
(It’s borderline embarrassing—the way even thinking about him wielding those blades sets your heart racing.)
You’ve learned to ignore it, despite the flirtatious undercurrent to each and every interaction you share.
And yet—sparring alone with him right now while the rest of the base sleeps, sweat dripping down your back as your skin burns all over with the ghost of his touch, seeing this stripped down version of one of the Defense Force’s most lethal weapons in a moment that feels far more intimate than it has any right to be…it’s difficult to remember why you should.
Hoshina uses his forearm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, tongue darting out along his bottom lip, and a subtle shudder runs through you as you track the unconscious movement. Unfortunately, his keen eyes don’t miss the trajectory of your waning focus, and he takes advantage of the opening, the room quickly spinning as you find yourself on the floor beneath him once again.
This time, you’re lying on your back, both hands pinned above your head, his fingers incidentally laced with your own. Hoshina’s wide-eyed and panting, and you can tell you at least accomplished something—he clearly hadn’t been intending to hit the floor with you until your survival instincts kicked in enough to gracelessly drag him down on top of you. 
As you go to pull free, you find something solid pressed between your legs, and it’s an effort in and of itself to stifle your gasp at the feeling that instantly curls hotly in your gut at the friction. Belatedly, you reorient yourself to find that you had hooked your left leg around his waist during the fall, and the firm wall of muscle that you’re two seconds from accidentally dry humping is his thigh that’s slotted between your legs.
Hoshina’s face sobers as he stares down at you, and you swear you feel his fingers flex minutely against your own, his expression now unreadable. 
Seemingly continuing his earlier thought, he muses, “Well, I guess I get sloppy when I’m distracted.” Your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself balancing precariously on the tightrope of what could very well be an incredibly bad decision. 
If you were smart, you’d let this moment pass.
If you were smart, you’d tap out and tell him you’re going to bed, letting out the rest of your frustration with a hand between your legs, your soft, quiet moans muffled by the spray of the shower water or the layers of your duvet.
But the words are wrestling their way past your teeth before you can stop yourself as you ask, “What could possibly distract the vice-captain of the Third Division?”
He laughs under his breath, and for a wild moment, you think he’s about to kiss you when he leans in, but his lips skirt the shell of your ear instead as he murmurs, “You don’t normally wear this when we’re trainin’ with everyone else.”
Hoshina’s lower half nudges you slightly for emphasis, his hands still occupied by your own, and you belatedly realize—with embarrassment—that you’re the one now essentially holding them in the grip of your fingers. However, the thought is quickly replaced by another jolt of pleasure as the movement presses his thigh just a hair more firmly against the heat between your legs.
At the slight widening of his eyes, you also realize something else—that soft, little moan in your head wasn’t so silent after all. 
He tilts his head and sighs, “You make this real difficult for me sometimes.”
You’re far too aware of every place your bodies are touching.
“What do I make difficult?” you ask carefully, surprising yourself with your boldness. 
He regards you with a look like you should already know what he’s referring to. “Ignoring the things I think about when I’m around you.”
Your mouth goes dry, a polar opposite to the arousal now soaking into your panties. “Maybe you should stop ignoring them,” you whisper before you can think better of it. 
Hoshina groans, fingers tightening around yours, eyes falling shut. “Don’t say that.”
Freeing one of your hands from their entanglement with his, you reach up, pushing his dark violet locks out of his face. “Why not?”
He leans in, mouth so close to yours you can feel the heat of his exhales as he murmurs, “Cause I might be the vice-captain of this division, but I’m not above fucking you right here on the floor.”
Heat sears insistently in your lower abdomen, and you shift just enough to press into him again. He audibly breathes out through his nose, and you tilt your head slightly askew as you stare up at him. “Are you asking me to beg, then?”
You’re suddenly very grateful to have unconsciously pulled the door shut behind you when you walked in, given that this training room can only be opened from the outside with an authorized key fob after hours.
Hoshina laughs a little incredulously under his breath, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make you a deal.”
You raise a brow, imploring him to continue.
“We’ll forget about those pushups for that mouth of yours, but…” he trails off, one finger ghosting over your lips. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
It’s instant—the way your brain briefly short circuits as you take in the full meaning of his words.
“I—what?”
He smirks. “You might be one of the most talented officers in this division, but your patience could really use some work.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
Smiling up at him sweetly, you shift so that your leg presses against the erection noticeably tented at the front of his pants. “Then teach me.”
You’re not prepared for it—the way all of the air leaves your lungs when Hoshina’s lips come crashing into yours. There’s no pretense to the way he claims your mouth, swallowing down the tiny little gasp that crawls up your throat, one hand cupping the side of your neck as the other reaches out to pin both of yours back to the floor. You push back a little, just for the thrill that arches down your spine when he tightens his grip, pinning you down even harder. 
His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw, and he groans a little when you part them, deepening the kiss. A blistering wave of arousal floods your veins as Hoshina does what can only be described as fucking his way into your mouth with his tongue, and you’re helpless to control how eagerly you take him in. Truthfully, you’ve never felt quite so turned on over the taste of someone else’s saliva, so desperate to feel the filthy, slick slide of their tongue and lips slotting and tangling with your own.
It takes you a minute to realize that you’ve started grinding against his thigh, but clearly he’s well aware, because as soon as you stop, he murmurs against your mouth, “Go ahead, keep going.”
Compiling without hesitation, you drag your clothed pussy down against the friction of his leg once more, and he bites down on your lip as you moan at the delicious sensation. 
“Does that feel good?” he asks coyly.
You nod, losing any lingering senses of embarrassment over dry humping your vice-captain’s leg as you observe the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, gasping and panting as you rut against him even harder. Panties damp with arousal, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a wet spot forming against his pants, as you can already feel the surplus of sticky fluid dripping down your ass cheeks. 
You could come like this.
“Stop.”
Freezing immediately at the tone of Hoshina’s voice, you open your half-lidded eyes to stare up at him, lips parted slightly.
“Didn’t say you could come yet,” he reminds you, expression tinged with amusement. “But show me how wet you are.”
He releases your hands, and you nearly whimper when he pulls his knee away, shifting to place his knees on either side of you. He slides both hands down your sides, stopping at your hips, and he trails two fingers along the waistband of your shorts, curling one of the short, loose strings around a digit before continuing his journey down your mound. 
A hum of satisfaction leaves his lips as he feels the way your juices have soaked clear through the little cotton shorts. You whine in frustration when he drags a slow, deliberate circle over your swollen clit through the fabric, rocking your hips upward.
Hoshina looks like he wants to say something, possibly to chide you for your impatient behavior, but clearly the other thought in his head wins out when he slides his hand up the bottom of your shorts and hooks a finger in your underwear, tugging them aside. 
Despite his teasing, the pressure of his fingers through your clothing is still nothing compared to the feather-light touch of his fingers drifting down the length of your slit. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs softly in approval, sliding one digit into your wet hole. 
Your pussy spasms at the sensation, and you moan for him, which only spurs him on further, earning you a second finger. The stretch still isn’t enough, and you buck your hips into his touch eagerly. 
“How the fuck are you so wet,” he mutters, one hand slipping up your shirt to clutch your side as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the lewd, wet squelch contending with the rising volume of your moans.
It’s impressive—how close you are to coming already with just two of his fingers massaging your slick, tight walls, his thumb barely teasing over the bud of your throbbing clit. It’s nearly laughable compared to how long it took the last man who touched you to get you off. 
“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” Hoshina comments, curling his fingers inside of you, and you gasp.
He swiftly removes them, lips curling upward at the dismayed look on your face as you cant your hips upward into nothing, the wave of pleasure building inside of you unceremoniously crashing at the breakers before reaching the shore. 
“Hoshina,” you whimper, not caring if it sounds a little pathetic as your chest heaves.
“I thought we were working on your patience,” he replies, before sticking your fingers in his mouth and licking your slick arousal clean off of them.
The warmth stirring inside of you turns molten, and your nipples feel achingly hard against the cotton fabric of your t-shirt. When he reaches down to cup your chin, your mouth falls open of its own volition, and you don’t hesitate to take his spit-soaked fingers between your lips instead. 
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out as you suck on the digits, a thin trail of saliva escaping in the process and dribbling past your lips. 
You reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, and you tug his mouth down toward yours. He strays off course, licking the spit from your chin and dragging his tongue across your lips. 
He follows the curve of your jaw with his mouth, lips blazing a trail of kisses down the side of your neck until he begins to nip and suck at your collarbone while his hands slide down to ruck up your t-shirt. He seems pleased by your lack of a bra, eyes darkening at the sight of your plush breasts bared before him. His fingers are precise as they cup one, thumb slowly dragging across your peaked nipple before he leans in and laps at the supple, sensitive skin. 
You arch upward into his touch, gasping out his name, and he groans, taking your peaked bud into his mouth. Despite the fact that you know he won’t let you finish, you reach between your legs anyway, keening as you dip two fingers into your empty, wet cunt while Hoshina turns his attention to filthily sucking on your other breast. Legs spreading wider against the cage of his own, you plunge a third finger in, and Hoshina makes a displeased sound, mouth abandoning your tits to trail down your stomach. 
“D’you think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hands gently pulling yours away from between your legs before sliding off your shorts and panties. 
“Maybe,” you pant out, fingers now pressing down into the soft mats beneath you.
“Maybe?” he echoes, nose brushing against your clit.
He pauses, and you can feel the warm huff of air that hits your slit as you whimper a strangled “Yes” when he lazily begins to slide a single finger back into your needy cunt. 
Another fresh thrill of arousal shudders through you as he calmly replies, “Good girl,” before he spreads your legs even wider and drags his tongue through your folds.
You blink back the spots from the bright ceiling lights that dance against your eyelids as your entire body arches upward off of the mats, the grip of his hands on the globes of your ass the only thing keeping you grounded as Hoshina groans lewdly at the taste of your pussy, lapping another broad, hungry stroke, 
You’d do anything to come at this point, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes as another blazing hot onslaught of pleasure trickles through your limbs, ruthlessly dragging you toward the edge.
He abruptly stops again, his lips covered in the slick sheen of your arousal when he looks up at you.
“Hoshina, please,” you whimper.
“Soshiro,” he exhales roughly, hips aligning with yours as he makes his way up your body to press a wet, filthy kiss to your lips.
“Soshiro,” you repeat a little breathlessly, and he kisses you again, more roughly this time. 
You can feel his thick erection as it presses down against your naked mound through his pants, and there’s little you can do to hold back your urge to roll your hips upward, dragging your wet, naked heat along his shaft. 
“Soshiro,” you say again, more desperately this time, and he groans, grinding back down against you with more fervor at the sound of his name on your lips. 
Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers fumble with the button of his pants, and he’s quick to take over, making quick work of the zipper. He guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your fingers around its thick girth as he asks, “You wanna feel this inside of you?”
The mere suggestion makes your woefully empty walls clench, and you can feel a fresh dribble of arousal leak from you. Giving his cock a few experimental pumps, you nod feverishly.
“Put it in then,” he murmurs, and there’s something undeniably erotic about the way he lazily stares down at you, waiting.
You guide his shaft toward your slick cunt, rejoicing just a bit in the slight shudder that wracks through him as you rub the flushed, leaking head of his cock against your slippery folds, his precum mixing with the lubrication of your wet juices.
If you thought you were desperate to come on his fingers and tongue, the heady buzz of need that’s been steadily buzzing inside of you is nothing compared to the gushing flood of desperation at the feeling of Hoshina’s length splitting you open. You’re a little too tight for him, but it feels so good—the way he replaces your hand with his own to stuff his cock the rest of the way inside of you. Your cunt greedily clenches down on each inch until you’re suddenly empty again. 
Hoshina—Soshiro—fucks like he fights: all teasing, taunting confidence. Every move he makes is pointed, purposeful. So you know he’s left you woefully empty now solely to bask in your frustrated reaction, just to hear your subsequent gasp of pleasure when he plunges back inside of you once more. 
You’re so fucking sensitive right now, it’s ridiculous—white-hot bursts of pleasure ignite in your abdomen with every little push and drag of the shape of his cock against the plush, tight grip of your cunt. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, exhaling roughly as he pulls out of you entirely once more, firmly gripping the base of his cock like he’s just as close to coming as you are.
Leaning down, Hoshina drags his lips across yours in some messy approximation of a kiss, his breath hot against your cheek as his mouth veers off. Turning your head to the side, you nip at his bottom lip, and he molds his mouth to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. 
Your muscles tense with anticipation as you feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your cunt, your ass lifting off of the mat to chase the friction with brazen need. But Hoshina’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he positions himself lengthwise with your slit. 
Any sounds of protest promptly die in your throat, only to be replaced by a wanton moan that Hoshina swallows down as he deepens the kiss while he begins to roll his hips, sliding his throbbing cock up and down through your drenched, sticky folds. 
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his back as you writhe beneath him, nearly seeing stars each time the head of his dick catches against your sensitive, swollen clit.
There’s a thin line of spit between your lips as he breaks the kiss, watching you burn from the inside out with relentless, intoxicating tremors of pleasure.
“Not yet,” Hoshina murmurs, slowing the rocking of his hips as he lines himself with your quivering entrance once more. “When I make you come, it’ll be on my cock.”
When he buries himself inside of you this time, you choke out a sob, the ache between your thighs reaching a fever pitch as he stuffs your pussy full to the hilt. And you swear he must feel the way your cunt is gripping him—begging him to stay buried deep inside of you, to finally let you cream all over his cock—because he sounds wrecked as he roughly moans your name against your mouth.
One of his hands slides along your arm, fingertips lacing with yours as the other cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. 
“You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, eyes wide, his hair far more mussed than you’ve ever seen it on the battlefield.
Despite the protest of your trembling, tightly-wound limbs, you wrap your legs around his waist, keening as you use the heel of your foot to press him even deeper inside of you and pant out, “Harder.”
He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, his steady strokes turning rough when he begins to pound into you, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips as your tits shake with each snap of his hips. 
You’re so fucking close—and you know he feels it, how fucking badly you want to give in to this torrential downpour of pleasure that’s threatening to drag you under.
“Come for me,” he finally commands in a sultry, gravelly tone that you’re certain will fucking haunt your wet dreams for years to come. 
It’s not difficult to obey—not when your entire body has been reduced to a dripping, trembling, desperate coil of tension, slipping along the tightrope of a tauntingly close climax for far too long. Shockwaves of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt grip every nerve ending from head to toe as your climax erupts, and Hoshina’s groan is downright filthy as he feels your pussy gush all over his cock.
“Shit,” he pants out, muscles tensing hard as you ride out your orgasm, eyes falling shut while your cunt spasms and contracts against his shaft. “Shit, shit.”
You’ve only just finished when he quickly pulls his cock from your quivering hole and groans loudly, barely giving his shaft half a stroke before ropes of hot, thick cum are spurting all over your bare chest, spilling all over your tits.
It’s quiet as he sits there kneeling between your spread legs, chest heaving just as hard as yours as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened. Subtly, you reach down to pinch your thigh, not quite convinced your late night waltz to the kitchen wasn’t just the product of a fucked up dream. 
Hoshina shrugs off his shirt, hardly giving you time to ogle what the hell he’s been hiding beneath there before he begins wiping his cum off of your chest. When he’s finished, he stands, and you slip back into your clothes as you watch him ball up his soiled shirt and grab his jacket. 
He pulls you to your feet, and the way his hands slide down your sides to smooth down your wrinkled t-shirt is oddly intimate, his fingers straying lower to briefly toy with the hem of your shorts. Instead of putting on his jacket to make up for his lack of a shirt, he reaches around you to settle it over your shoulders, the familiar, dizzying scent that you’ve come to associate with him enveloping your senses. 
And when you accidentally wear his jacket to training the next morning, you find what must be a spare key card to his room left nestled in one of the pockets. 
There’s a coy smile on his lips when he spots you staring down at the white piece of plastic, shrugging before he returns his attention to the rest of the gathered officers. 
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tossawary · 2 months ago
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The fun thing about Luo Binghe potentially NOT being pushed into the Endless Abyss at the Immortal Alliance Conference, imo, is that he's still a forcibly outed heavenly demon stuck in the middle of the cultivation world after a deadly invasion. There are so many different fun ways to play it.
So, Shen Yuan groggily wakes up and the first thing he sees is that traitorous asshole Shang Qinghua's relieved face and disheveled appearance. Ugh. And then first thing that the An Ding Peak Lord says is: "Wow, and I thought the System hated my ass. It had it OUT for you, bro."
What the fuck.
At which point, Shen Yuan sits bolt upright because what the hell happened? The last thing he remembers is not moving, the weight of the sword in his hand, the thunder of his heart in his ears, not being able to go through with it, hoping against all reason that this was all some sort of sick test and that the System wouldn't really-
"Where's Binghe?" Shen Yuan demands.
Shang Qinghua winces. "About that..."
And Shen Yuan's heart falls because Binghe ended up in the Endless Abyss anyway, obviously. There were apparently two transmigrators all along and neither of them could truly change the story.
"He got arrested for your murder and the invasion of the conference," Shang Qinghua says, scratching the back of his neck. "It was ugly. So ugly. I probably would have died if Liu Qingge hadn't shown up to put him down. The Palace Master is saying that this is obviously revenge for Tianlang-Jun's sealing and Yue Qingyuan has pretty much stopped talking-"
"What."
"Oh, you were super dead, bro, and the protagonist freaked the fuck out. I was there, so he started yelling about why I hadn't done something, irrational with grief and all that, it was pretty scary."
And Shen Yuan can see how a surprise heavenly demon kid would get blamed for his shizun's death and the invasion of the conference. There's nothing that any drama likes better than an innocent person somehow caught red-handed in the middle of an inexplicable disaster.
"Wait, the invasion IS your fault!" Shen Yuan says, pointing an accusatory finger. He feels like shit still, but his righteous, trembling anger is going mostly in the right direction. "Why didn't you speak up-?"
"What, and I was going to admit to that in front of all of those peak lords and sect leaders? Get off my dick, bro."
"I meant blame Mobei-Jun!"
"Oh, yeah. They'd made up their minds, though! And shit got really violent really quickly! Liu Qingge is still itching to kill someone here, you know. Ask yourself why you're not still dead first, huh?"
That's an annoyingly good question. And Shang Qinghua annoyingly answers himself without waiting for an input.
"You're so fucking lucky that I've been here for like forty years now and I have so many useless points. Enough to pay off YOUR debt! They can be transferred, apparently? Be grateful! Anyway, I don't want the vengeful protagonist thinking that I hold any blame whatsoever in you fainting to death there, even if he is locked up in the Water Prison right now, so don't say I did nothing for you, got it?"
"...He's WHERE?!"
"Water Prison. He's going to be put on bullshit trial for the Immortal Alliance Conference and also for existing as a heavenly demon. Keep up, bro. Also," Shang Qinghua says with an urgent look over his shoulder, "you have to back me up when I try to explain to Mu Qingfang and Huang Qingheng that you were only mostly dead, they must have missed something, and I was just hanging around paying my respects when you miraculously recovered. I don't know anything! Ready to go?"
"No."
"Well, that fucking sucks for you. Let's go!"
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cheapshrimpysheep · 11 days ago
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Dating in a Dream - Idia Shroud
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SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?
CHARACTERS: Idia Shroud x Reader 💀🦐
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)
WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Idia’s dream (Eng Server)
WORD COUNT: 4.930 words
COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.
I hope you enjoy 💀
Dating in a Dream: (Idia) / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / ...
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Idia had just finished playing with Muscle Red when the sound of a request from Ortho to make a video call started playing. Even though he finds it strange that he is calling him through Gloomurai's account, he answers anyway. However, he is surprised to see that it is not Royal Sword Academy Ortho, but a humanoid that looks like him.
“Bwha?! *sputter* What's going on, Ortho?! This is the first I've heard from you having an interest in cosplay!”
Ortho wants to try to wake Idia up in a gentle way and to do so he mixes the reality of being a humanoid created by Idia with the act of being any entity or something trying to convince him that he is ‘the chosen one’ to save the world. But Idia keeps finding excuses for it, like it being some kind of prank or something, and he laugh it off. But eventually, continuing with that act, Ortho gets the reaction he predicted from Idia.
“A handsome young humanoid is asking me for help from inside my computer?! I've read literally 500 million light novels with this exact premise! Is it finally time for me to be the chosen one?!”
Ortho almost starts to laugh, but holds himself back.
“That's right, Idia. The time has come. Awaken... from this dream!”
“Dream? ...Hrk?!”
The dream begins to distort and Idia's head starts to hurt. He begins to remember that Ortho didn't grow up and enter Royal Sword Academy, he was a humanoid who attended Night Raven College with him. But it’s at that moment that his phone starts ringing with an incoming call from Ortho.
“Idy! (Nii-chan!) Don't let him fool you! That robo-Ortho is nothing but an impostor!”
“An impostor?” However, Idia continues to have visions of memories of reality. “Gah... What are... all these strange memories?!”
"That impostor's trying to brainwash you!” The dream Ortho insists. “Don't believe him!"
“I should've expected he'd have something in place for this.” The real Ortho says. “So when they're in danger of waking from their dream, the NPCs try to keep them inside. What a sophisticated autonomous spell. Guess Malleus isn't one of the top five mages in the world for nothing!”
“Stay right there.” The fake Ortho says. “I already called for help! But I'm still coming to save you, Idy (Nii-chan)!” And he hangs up.
“Hmm? Called for help?” The real Ortho questions. “Wait! If the darkness uses the people the dreamer likes to trap them here, then does that mean...?”
The door to Idia's room suddenly opens.
“Idia-senpai!” You enter the room, or rather, a version of yourself that Idia's dream created. And you were wearing Ignihyde's uniform. “Ortho called me... AH! What is that? Is this the impostor?”
“(Y-Y/N)!” Ortho stutters your name. “Wait! Why are you wearing Ignihyde's uniform?”
“Because Grim and I transferred here. Duh~”
“Hm?! And when was that?” Now Ortho was more curious to know more about that than to actually wake up his brother.
“When Idia and I started dating.”
“Wehehehe. And it even came with a bonus kitten.” Idia brags about it. “Best deal, ever. The best thing about being a Housewarden is being able to let them move into my dorm without anyone questioning it.”
“So you'd like them to transfer to Ignihyde? Is it so you don't have to go out to visit them?”
“DING DING DING!” Idia smiles enthusiastically talking about you. “Oh, c'mon, who wouldn't abuse their power to bring their little flower closer to them?”
“Little... Flower?” Ortho says almost astonished. He had never heard Idia speak like that about someone... real, at least.
Idia approaches you, or rather, the dream you, with an extremely confident smile and caresses your face. “My little flower~.” He holds your chin to turn your face towards his. “My little bird~.” he affectionately squeezes both of your cheeks with that hand. “My little nutmeg~”
“Cute aggwession.” Your-darknes-self warns between the lips compressed by the cheeks. Which didn't stop Idia from giving them a quick but strongly affectionate kiss.
‘I knew that Idia had a crush on (Y/N), but I wasn't expecting to see him so happy...’ Ortho thinks. ‘But I have to wake him up regardless!’
“Idia, that is not (Y/N). They are in Ramshackle dorm with Grim. And you never confessed your feelings to them. You barely have the courage to talk to them!”
“What? That's not... Okay, fine, but who doesn't get nervous just thinking about the possibility of being caught looking at their crush, let alone talking to them... Especially after practically kidnapping... Grim... URG!” His head starts to hurt again and the world starts to distort.
“He didn't need to confess to me.” Your-darkness-self said. “I confessed my feelings first.” They hold Idia's face to force him to look at them. “Don't listen to him, senpai~” The room gets darker and black goop starts to flood the room. “You don't need to leave your comfort zone to have me. I can do aaall the work for you... I'll jump into a whirlpool of souls if you need me to...”
Another figure forms from the black goop, a grown Ortho wearing the Royal Sword Academy uniform.
“And here I am too, Idy (Nii-chan). It'll all be okay now.”
“(Y/N)...? Ortho...?”
“Wait a second...” Ortho says. “Idia, does that black goop look like Ortho to you? No! Get away from there! Don't let the goop get you!”
“You don't need to think, Idy (Nii-chan). You're just tired from too much gaming. Get a little sleep.”
Idia begins to close his eyes, giving in.
“I don't think he hears me. Idia, no! IDIA (NII-SAN)!”
But Idia ends up being swallowed by the darkness.
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When Idia opens his eyes again it was night and he was in the courtyard, dressed in his ceremonial robe. Malleus appears, also wearing his ceremonial robe, and tells Idia that it is almost time for orientation. Idia finds it strange, but he is almost ready to believe it and follow Malleus, until a ball of light appears in the sky and seems to be heading towards them. Idia panics because he thinks it's a meteorite that's going to destroy them, while Malleus simply wonders what that could be.
It was Ortho in his Cerberus Gear. Idia recognizes the Styx emblem and asks if that is a new powered suit his mom built, but Ortho can't explain anything at that moment because Malleus wants to put an end to that inconvenience and send Idia back into a deep sleep.
Malleus, in his Overblot form, and Ortho fight until the dream begins to shatter around them. Malleus withdraws, as his presence in that situation would no longer be necessary to destroy the little Shroud. In his panic, Idia begins to be swallowed by darkness again. Ortho tries to save him, but their mother's voice can be heard through the radio communicator in Ortho's gear, ordering him to get out of there. Realizing that the person in that suit was Ortho makes Idia's head hurt more and the darkness pulls him in harder. Until he is completely swallowed by that black goop.
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After his fight in the underworld, and finally realizing that it was all a dream, everything goes dark again.
Lying down with his eyes still closed, he feels a kiss on his forehead. He begins to open his eyes slowly, as if he had just woken up and sees your face.
“Wakey-wakey~” Your-darkness-self says it in the cutest way you could possibly say it. But quickly, that changes. “Ugh, no, too cutsy. Don't make me do that again.”
“Hmm? What are you doing here?” Idia asks.
“Hum?! You make me be transferred to your dorm as soon as we start dating and you still ask what I'm doing here? What a boyfriend.” Your-darkness-self mocks. “Come on, Mister Housewarden, breakfast is ready.”
“Hum?! You make me breakfast?”
“Did you think I would trust you with that role, Chef Instant Noodles? Of course I am the one making you breakfast, for your sake and mine.”
“Aaaah... yeees, a hot significant other taking care of me... Every otako's dream... Heh... Hee hee... Ehehehehehee!”
“Even though I kind of like your psychopathic laugh, it still worries me. What’s the matter?”
“All those rare drops in my MMO...” Idia explains. “Pulling the triple SSR of my fave... Muscle Red never retiring from gaming, me attending orientation in persons... It was all a dream! Everything from start to finish was what I wished for! Classic otaku fantasy!”
“Huh? Wha? What are you...” Your-darkness-self tries to say, but Idia continued, talking over them.
“And In what world would my little brother EVER attend Royal Sword Academy? He wouldn't go to some bright, wholesome school full of guys so extroverted they make my stomach tie in knots.”
Idia's cell phone starts to vibrate.
“Hee hee... looks like someone got their cue to appear in the shot.” he answers the call with a sinister smile. “Ah... what perfect timing. Vil would be proud of you.”
“Hey... Hum? Vil?”
“Yeah, Vil Schoenheit. You know, the super beauty queen in charge of the Film Research Club. The club Ortho goes to.”
“Hm? What are you talking about? I'm not even in Night Raven College to attend that club. I-”
“No, you're right. You don't. I was talking about the humanoid Ortho, enrolled with me in Night Raven College, the school chock-full of SSR Epic Troublemakers. And then there's Phantom Ortho, down in the dark, gloomy Underworld. These are the only two brothers I have! And you are none of them!”
“What?! Wait, Id-”
“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do something I would normally avoid at all costs.” Idia finally looks directly at your-darkness-self again. “Resolve a matter in person.” And then, furious at his cell phone. “And I'll be submitting some very in-depth feedback to your customer support! GOODBYE, SIR.” he smiles in a frighteningly sinister way at your lookalike. “Now... about you...”
“Me? Idy-senpai, please listen to me.”
“Ah-ah-ah, sorry. I'm not into getting called cutesy pet names by anyone who's not a video game or anime character. With one single and unique exception.”
Your-darkness-self smiles seductively.
“Oh, no, no, no, no. Trust me, you have no reason to smile. Quite the opposite.”
“It's that stupid robotic copy of Ortho that's putting these things in your head, isn't it? Don't listen to-!”
Idia takes out his magic pen and makes ropes of black smoke form around Your-darkness-self to tie and gag them. By also trapping their legs, they lost their balance and fell to the ground with muffled complains.
“Hehe, cool trick huh? I've been practicing. This smoke is very useful for bringing things to me when I don't feel like getting up. Let's see if it can do the same with a person.” He make the black smoke take your look-alike to sit on his bed.
“Now I'm sure you're not the real (Y/N). They would never treat Ortho like that.” His sinister smile turns sweet for a moment. “In fact, I'm p. sure they're nicer to Ortho than to any other student.” The smile becomes disturbing again. “And looking at this face, knowing it's an impostor just irritates me more.”
He places his index finger on the impostor's chin to tilt their face slightly and seductively upward. “Using someone's crush as a puppet to manipulate them and get what you want from them. I'm not gonna lie, it's a really good strategy. And the best way to PISS ME OFF!” He aggressively grabs your look-alike's face by the cheeks while his hair turns red as he says this and his expression shows the deepest anger.
But soon after he becomes calmer again, or at least appears to be so, and lets go of your-darkness-self's face.
“Aaahh~ Yeah... It was really good to have (Y/N) with me... they are a quite cute otako fellow... and hot too when they get serious... But because they are such popular fave they deserve to have high standards. And not settle for a guy who barely has the courage to speak to them. They would never agree to do all this awesome things for me out of the blue and just because.”
He was smiling slightly talking about you, but then he gets annoyed again.
“I don't know what kind of otaku you had me for, but don't insult me by thinking that I'm one of those sick losers who wants a partner desperately in love with them simply because they exist. That's not only lame, but creepy as hell. A person who reduces their entire personality to be your significant other? What a turn off. Do you think I only like (Y/N) because they are pretty? Please, it takes a lot more than appearance to make me even remember a person.”
“I don’t know who's showing me this messed-up dream, if it is illusion magic or some evil syndicate's brainwashing headset. But let me tell you, your whole narrative sucks. If I can't have a happy ending, you just hit reset? ‘Yes, please meddle more!’ said literally no one, ever. Regardless of what the outcome is... Whether it counts as a happy ending is for ME to decide!”
He pauses for a moment to look at the terrified face of your look-alike.
“You know, the fact that this is a dream only makes things worse for you.” He says smiling. “‘Cause, you know, I'm a p. reasonable guy. If you were a real person I'd still try to resolve things more peacefully. But since I know you're not...” He violently grabs the thick smoke as if grabbing them by the collar and says with red flame hair “I CAN BURN YOU TO A CRISP! But not with that face...”
He grabs your-darkness-self’s face in a way that covers it with just one hand and starts burning it between muffled screams of pain that began to distort as the figure turned into black goop as well. When that was no longer your face, Idia squeezed it in anger and increased the flames until the figure melted into goop and disappeared into the ground.
Idia takes a moment to take a deep breath.
“You're there right, Ortho?”
“Welcome back, Idia.” Ortho reappears on Idia’s screen.
Idia apologizes for the hurtful things he said to Ortho and talks about how incredible he was in his mission. After a heartwarmingly little chat between brothers, Idia asks what in the world was actually going on?
“I understand everything now.” Idia says after Ortho's explanation. “Or at least, I wish I did. But learning Mom's seen everything on my PC was too of a shock to my system. All I've managed to process other than that is Malleus is some kind of ginormous cheater...?”
“Look, um, it was an emergency. Don't let it get to you, okay?”
“Easy for you to say! She's totally seen THAT now. And THAT... She's seen it all... *shock* She... SHE SAW (Y/N)'S FOLDER! SHE KNOWS ABOUT MY CRUSH!”
While Idia was lamenting about that, Ortho remembered that during one of the conversations with their mother...
“Hmm... Orthy... I really don't want to intrude on Idy's privacy, but... Hmm... does he have any friend at school that he or you never told me about?”
“A friend? I try to help him make friends, but I don't think he's ever considered any Night Raven College student as one. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just... that... that student without magic, (Y/N), I have almost no information about them, but... what do you think of them?”
“(Y/N)? I consider them a good person, especially compared to most Night Raven College students. They are also quite diligence and can be very caring. But why do you... ... Idia has a folder on them, doesn't he?”
“So, you know about Idy's crush?”
“Well, he never admitted it, but... I can read his vital signs when he talks about or is around (Y/N). I also know that he has already made some drawings and sketches of them.”
“Oh, I saw! They are so beaut- Huh, I mean...”
“I like (Y/N).” Ortho said smiling. “Idia once went to play some video-games in their dormitory lounge with some other students. And I can see that he feels very comfortable around them. (Y/N) respects Idia's space and time, but also likes to help me try to get him out of the room. They are very fun and attentive.”
Ortho didn't need to see his mother's face to know she had a huge smile behind her helmet.
“So why must I have my PC's contents laid bare for my mother to see?! It makes no sense...” Idia kept lamenting. “I just took 50 billion points of psychic damage, at least...” He loses strength in his legs and falls to the ground.
“It really was just an unfortunate accident. One nobody could have predicted...” Ortho says. “Don't worry though, Idia. Mom didn't make any comments about anything there...” Just that one small exception that Idia didn't need to know about.
“GAAAH!” he gets up. “Not low-key discretion! That's the LAST thing a young guy wants! If I didn't naturally incinerate blot, I'd absolutely be overblotting right about now!”
Blaming Malleus for this, Idia vowed to take revenge on him.
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You, Grim, Silver and Sebek had just arrived at Ignihyde, or rather, Idia's dream, after Ortho had guided you there after leaving Lilia's dream.
Idia appeared and tried to explain a little of what was going on, until he remembered that he had not yet introduced himself to those two students from Diasomnia with whom he barely interacted with.
“I'm Idia Shroud, housewarden of Ignihyde.”
“Oh, of course! No wonder you looked familiar.” Sebek says. “You had a more... tabular form at orientation. This might be the first time I've had a proper look at you in person.”
“Oh, uh... Yeah. In the real world I attended remotely it seems...”
“I am Sebek Zigvolt of Diasomnia Dorm - freshman, class D, seat 33!” He said quite loudly. “And this is Silver. Same dorm, sophomore year! He always has that blank look on his face.”
“Eep! Talk about loud... Thought my eardrums were gonna rupture there. How do Malleus and his dormmates endure this decibel level at close range every day without ear damage...?” Idia says a little lower, while also thinking: ‘I hope (Y/N) didn't go deaf after spending so much time with him.’
“Sorry, Idia.” Silver apologizes. “I'll tell him to be more careful about that. Though I doubt you'd have to worry about ruptured eardrums in reality, considering we're in a dream - ah! Everyone, stay vigilant!” he suddenly shouts. “Idia, Grim, (Y/N)! Get behind me and Sebek!”
When he suddenly pulls you behind him, you lose your balance and end up bumping your back into Idia’s chest. As soon as this happens, the tips of his hair turned slightly pink. But even if he wanted to move away he wouldn't be able to because Sebek quickly joined Silver to cover you all and ended up making you crumpled against each other. Which made Idia get even more flustered.
“Mrah? What's the matter, Silver?” Grim asks trapped between you and him.
“If Idia's woken up from his dream, we should expect darkness to attack and try to pull him into an event deeper sleep.”
As Silver, Grimm, and Sebek talk about the possibility of Malleus appearing there at any moment, the physical pressure between you and Idia begins to increase and making it harder to breathe.
“Hrrrk... Pressure's... too much... can't breathe...!” Idia still tries to use his strength to create more space between you so that you can breathe too. The pink in his hair ends up disappearing as he is suffocating.
“Not to rain on your parade, but...” A familiar voice said. “We won't actually have to worry about Malleus Draconia or that black goop for a while.”
Ortho reveals himself and explains how they are safe in that dream. He also explains that he disappeared after guiding you there because he cannot appear in his normal form in Idia's dream because it triggers a critical error.
“So, I'll be sticking to a monitor display. Also... Idia's turning pale from oxygen deprivation. Could you please give him some room to breathe?”
Silver and Sebek walked away apologizing and Idia took a deep breath as if he had finally emerged from underwater.
“Whew, I almost set out on a journey to the Underworld... Thanks for the save, Ortho...”
Finally, it was time for Ortho to explain everything that had happened up until that moment. He and Idia tell you about his dream, but obviously hiding the part about your look-alike.
“So, uh... While you guys were chatting it up in Lilia's dream...” Idia says after Ortho said that they would need your help. “I was doing some brainstorming of my own. I've come up with a plan to escape this dream world - or rather, to do something about Malleus.”
“Operation Make Malleus Ugly Cry and Beg for Forgiveness?” You ask.
“Y-yeah, there you go.. Hee. Heehee.”
It may be a small detail that those who don't know Idia might not notice, but being able to understand him and his humor is a huge green flag. And Ortho knows this.
“Anyway, I threw together a video to go over the plan. Would you mind watching it?”
After they showed you the video and explained the plan, Sebek was ready to move on to the next dream. Until Idia warned that it would be a good idea for you to change your clothes so that when you enter your next dreams, the shock of wearing unfamiliar clothes would not be so great for the dreamer as to activate the defenses of Malleus’s spell. But since none of you can do it by yourselves, he installs an outfit-changing spell in your magestones.
“Here, lemme see your magical pens. Oh wait, you don't have one, do you, (Y/N)? Okay, I'll insert a chip with a technomantic program in your phone...”
While he was installing the ship he accidentally pressed one of the side buttons and your locked screen image appeared. It was the exact same image that Idia had on his tablet.
“HUH?! W-why do you have my voice call image as your background?!” Idia asks, surprised.
“Oh! Did I never tell you?” Ortho says. “Give me a second.” A sort of scanning sound is heard, as if he was looking for something in his memory files. “One result found.” he said in his robotic voice before speaking normally again. “The first time I was going to tell you, you were busy playing, so I ended up not doing it. I was talking to (Y/N) once and they said they thought your tablet’s image was cool. I asked them if they wanted a copy of the image for their phone and they said yes. That was a long time ago, though. It's good to know you still have it, (Y/N).”
“Y-you think it is cool?... I-In that case, I can customize an image for you.” Idia started talking excitedly. “I can make a version with a different color, it can even be pink if you want.” The more excited he got about it, the more confident he became and the faster he spoke. “And I can change the eyes too, I can turn them around and make them look like they’re smiling, or I can just rotate them a little bit like they're half-closed, like in an cool annoyed way.”
“Focus on the task!” Grim complained. “Don't you want us to change our clothes?”
“Uh-uh... Y-yeah... S-sorry, I’m on it.” He gets a little shy again.
If you tell him that you accept the offer and that you can talk about it later when that whole dream thing is sorted out, he'll give you that sweet little smile of his.
“There, installation complete.”
“Here you go, everyone!” Ortho says. “You can have your magical pens and smartphone back.”
“Hm? You said you installed something in my magical pen, but it seems no different to me.” Sebek comments.
“Each of you, face your implement of choice...” Idia explains. “And say: 'DREAMY MAGICAL MAKEOVER!'”
“WHAT?! What is this bizarre spell?!”
“You gotta say a cool catchphrase when you change outfits.” Idia smiles amusedly. “That's a staple of transformation scenes in children's anime. That was a joke, for the record. Or at least, half a joke... Thing is, spells should ideally specific phrases to avoid setting them off by accident. And I did make this for the benefit of a bunch of sprouts who can't even do basic outfit changes on their own. I'm busy enough with dev work as it is. So get on with it!”
Regardless of how you say it, Idia will secretly find it very cute, but if you say it shyly he will find it even cuter.
“You want me to save the video of this to share with you later, don't you?” Ortho discreetly asks his brother who confirms.
A screen appears in front of each of you with clothing options: School Uniform, PE Uniform, Labwear, Ceremonial Robes and Dorm Uniform. Ortho tells you to try tapping the outfit you'd like to wear.
You start by trying on the ceremonial robes or the labwear, but you wonder what would happen if you tapped the Dorm Uniform option, because Ramshackle doesn't have a Dorm Uniform.
“Maybe it was a default error.” Idia assumes. “Either nothing happens or there might be some weird glitch... or...”
“AAAH! WAIT!” Ortho and Idia say worriedly in unison after thinking of another possible outcome.
But it was too late and you had already pressed the button to find out. The clothes you had on... transform into the Pomefiore dorm uniform.
“It's random...” The brothers sighed in relief.
“What's wrong?” Silver asks. “Could something dangerous have happened?”
“N-no, just... d-don't worry about it... p-programming stuff.” Idia responds, trying to hide the embarrassment with a smile.
You tap it again and the uniform changes to the Heartslabyul one. Meanwhile, the others also tried their own menus to change clothes and Grim insisted that he also wanted to do that.
“Not like you really need it, Grim...” Idia says. “But I guess I could set it up for you as well.”
“Really?! Gimme, gimme!”
If you thank Idia for doing that for Grim, he will say it's no big deal with a mix of smugness and flusteredness.
While Grim is also having fun changing clothes, you tap the Dorm Uniform option once again and your Heartslabyul’s Dorm Uniform changes to... Ignihyde's. This surprises Idia who immediately sets his sights on you.
“(Y/N). look! All I gotta do is push a button, and I can change into all sortsa outfits!” Grim was changing outfits too quickly.
“Don't forget, Grim, these tools are strictly to assist the user.” Ortho warns him. “The magic for those outfit changes is still drawn from the one casting the spell. And (Y/N), you probably shouldn't go overboard with the smartphone tool either. But before you change your outfit again, can I ask you for something?”
You nod.
“Will you let me take a picture of you with Idia in your Ignihyde uniforms?” He asks in the most cutely convincing way.
Idia even takes a little jump in place, surpriced by that request as well. And he only gets even more flustered when you accept. He would be against that if it weren't for you.
“You two can be such normie sometimes.” Idia says with a shy smile.
You get closer to him and the tips of his hair turn a little pink again. And as soon as Ortho said he was going to take the picture, Grim says he wants to be in it too and jumps into your arms.
“It's funny.” You point. “Grim matches the uniforms.” You lift him up a little. “And your hair.”
Ortho laughs with you and Idia smiles amusedly too, while looking at you foundly.
“Aw, you should be in the picture too, Ortho.” You say.
“Don't worry, I can put myself in the picture through editing.”
“In that case, let's pose as if you were here too. This will make it look more natural when editing.”
Ortho is very happy with your idea and tells you that he will stand on the other side of his brother. He takes a picture of you next to Idia and holding Grim between the two of you.
“If at any point (Y/N) presses the button again and Diasomnia's uniform appears I can take another picture of (Y/N) with you two, Silver and Sebek Zigvolt, if you want.” Ortho suggests, to divert any suspicion from him and Idia.
“I think Lilia and Malleus would also like to see that too.” Silver says in a chuckle,and smiled slightly.
“I recommend setting your default to the Night Raven College uniform.” Idia returns to the main topic. “That one can cover most situations you'll be in.”
You all change into that uniform and were ready to move on to the next dream. After you leave with Ortho, part of his consciousness returns to Idia’s side to ask him something.
“If (Y/N) asks me for a copy of the photo... do you want me to edit your hair to remove the pink ends? Heh heh heh.”
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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stealingpotatoes · 3 months ago
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POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!
ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags
warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):
SESSION 1
whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan
ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass
only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit
my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs
hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????
omg a jedi and an evil jediii
omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately
i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight
WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO
i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful
I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown
i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve
everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???
my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen
huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine
ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK
ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits
googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip
SESSION 2
i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point
all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….
why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword
maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE
was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted
why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia
why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???
carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not
a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project
mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school
SESH 3
tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games
ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won
REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!
why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????
lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident
"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER
BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??
CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber
if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho
whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate
SESH IV: A NEW HOPE
'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo
LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU
thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary
UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE
someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes
all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch
YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but
cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council
why can everyone smell my force juju so strong
THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA
why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor
bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow
malak is like evil aang
revan is so much shorter than malak omg
are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan
poor mission ):
WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???
im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me
kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong
IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!
does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's
damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident
A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started
master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil
even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN
'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??
omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3
HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??
i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever
they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin
he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila
OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!
omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi
maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia
seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA
also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me
im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now
FSESH FIVE:
big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line
oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues
well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening
yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians
oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho
wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them
i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc
ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????
cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????
I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS
if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid
anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to
"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord
bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart
THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???
omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year
OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA
ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia
also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was
master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda
LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL
omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!
I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO
omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have
im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin
omg hyperspace from star wars
THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???
am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout
maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow
[kiwi accent] six
carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me
also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out
i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out
THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????
lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes
there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now
bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades
this isnt a combat system this is a missing system
I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL
nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties
why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission
this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl
i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon
MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????
but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE
so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie
great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills
bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY
ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever
omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem
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shiny-jr · 1 year ago
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➸ damnation [ the raven retainer ]
– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.
– Note: Hopefully everything transferred over okay from the quiz. Been holding off on this one because I know with the amount of Pomefiore and Vil admirers, posting this is like lighting up a firework by hand and having to run before it goes off.
– Pages: 42
– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!
The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer   |   The Praetorian Imp
A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall! 
Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment? 
Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.” 
But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! A page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven? 
How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending. 
Knowing this brought you some much needed relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be. 
Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard. 
Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace. 
When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing. 
“Thank you…! You saved me!” 
Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––
“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you may already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?” 
“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his worn and tattered attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.” 
“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…” 
So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure. 
“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you. 
“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story. 
In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense. 
“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!” 
Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason. 
“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” 
The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass. 
You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming. 
“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 
Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!” 
Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathers fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow. 
The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger. 
Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke it caused you to freeze. 
“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.” 
You slowly stepped forward, closer to him. 
“Closer.” 
Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne. 
“Closer.” 
Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.” 
The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”
It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.” 
After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.” 
Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear. 
“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile. 
The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes. 
His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!” 
You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him. 
Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.” 
“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two. 
Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago. 
The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival. 
“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.” 
Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it. 
The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!” 
“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.” 
The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king. 
Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”
“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?” 
Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess. 
Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.” 
“Yes, Your Majesty.” You replied hastily with a slow bow. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Just from your few moments here, you can already tell that the king was frightening when vexed, and you did not want to stick around to see if that got worse when he spoke privately with his huntsman. And yet, as you turned tail to retreat back into the hallway past the closed doors, you knew the heir he mentioned could have only been the only other person in the room: Epel. 
Epel, much like you, didn’t seem to have any desire to stick around longer than necessary. Once you and the heir were out and the doors were closed shut, simultaneously you both heaved a sigh of relief, although short and brief as the heavy weight of the king's command was still prominent. There must’ve been even more on the young heir’s mind, because his gaze flittered over to you and he began to eye you suspiciously. With a surprising amount of strength for someone of his short stature and delicate appearance, he grabbed your arm and began to drag you down the halls away from the throne room, soldiers standing guards, and anyone else. Until you were in a different setting, by one of the castle’s exits to a dark backside corner of the garden where there was just one big oak tree that provided shade underneath its huge branches. What was this about? Why did he bring you here? 
Those questions were answered when he finally stopped underneath the tree and let go of your limb, only to whip his head back at you with such an angered expression that caught you off guard. The location now seemed like some place he could yell in frustration without being caught, because it was so quiet and isolated here. “That entire time, when that crazy old goon with that stupid metal crown basically kidnapped me from my home and brought me here for his little contest I wanted no part of, you knew he’d want the losers dead, didn’t you?! Hell, you helped him get rid of the bodies! I trustedyou, you big fat lying s––!” 
Quickly clamping your right hand over his mouth to shut him up, you stared at him as he gazed at you wide-eyed, as if shocked you’d even try to stop him. It dawned on you then. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” Just then, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. Hissing, you immediately retracted your hand, shocked to see some broken skin and feel it sting. He just bit you––! 
Epel spat onto the ground, infuriated as he yelled, “Are you daft? All that time in the undercroft made your brain rot or something?” An idea came to him. Still angry, but brightening up substantially, he lifted his head and glared at you. “Rook’s busy with Vil, and if I beat you there’d be no one to take me back to that stuffy prison of a room.” From his hip, he unsheathed a dagger and pointed it at you. “Out of my way, or I’ll make sure you join the rest of those duds you buried!” 
Removing your own weapon, the short sword from your back, that you thankfully were still carrying and was larger than his own blade, you pointed it at him. “You were saying, Epel, was it?” Seeing his confident expression falter, you decided to add quickly just in case he tried to act recklessly and try attacking you with his dagger anyways. “I’ll tell you this because it seems we both want to live and I believe we might be able to help each other get what we want. So let’s get something straight, I am not the retainer you know.” 
You gave him a moment to process what you said as you both lowered your weapons. In the quiet of the brief moment, you listened for any sign of prying ears but there was none. Upon seeing Epel’s confusion and suspicion with his guard still raised, you continued, 
“It’s unbelievable, I know, but I’m not the same person. Where I come from, this place is a lot like a fairytale story but different. I was arrested back home and sent here as punishment. This means my punishment was to take the role of the pet or servant of the royal and face some unknown demise. Now, from what I’ve picked up, it sounds like you’re here against your will too. Both of us might end up dead if we’re not careful.”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of Epel watching you closely and deciding on what to do, he lowered his dagger completely after he saw you lower yours. “That sounds like a load of crap but… the real retainer would know better than to talk to Neige of all people. You didn’t, which explains that.” Maybe he wasn’t entirely convinced by your narrative, because he proceeded to ask, “You said this was like some kid’s story you read once or somethin’? Tell me what happens to me.” 
“That’s the issue. It’s an old story that doesn’t go into detail, you weren’t even a character and my role is just a raven.” Placing away your sword that you handled a bit awkwardly, since you really had no idea how to use it, but the heir didn’t seem to notice that as he placed away his own weapon. “From what I got, you were brought here against your will and there were others that are no longer here. Now, you’re the royal heir. Care to explain?” 
Raising an eyebrow, Epel demanded, “If I tell you, you have to promise to tell me something. You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you?” 
“I do.” Nodding at his words in confirmation, you then answered, “Of course I’ll tell you since we’re helping each other out.” 
After a second, he sighed, “Fine. I’ll trust you, but only because you’re not really the retainer. Ya see, I’m from a small farming town near the borderlands. A few months ago, Vil gave a secret proclamation. He wanted the seven of the most beautiful candidates gathered at his castle, status or talent didn’t matter, as long as they were younger than him and had looks up to his high standards. Rook, you met him already, was in charge of finding these candidates and bringing them in whether they liked it or not, and you, or well… the old retainer, were in charge of taking the loser home whenever someone failed one of Vil’s challenges. At least, that’s what they told us. My guess is that the king doesn’t want his little brother to inherit the throne since he’s so jealous and all. All the candidates had a chance to become the next in line for the throne if they won all the challenges, and if they lost they got to go home. But no matter how hard I tried to lose, you kept me from losing so I guess I owe the old retainer for that because without them I’d be… probably lying face-down in a ditch somewhere.” 
Slowly he shrugged, those words he uttered now being processed in his mind. It seemed to have struck him, because he became quiet. 
“... I was the last one standing, even though I didn’t wanna be. Ever since then, I’ve been stuck here, forced to spend my days with strict lessons being taught by Vil. All my escape attempts were stopped by Rook, of course, that crazy loon…” Gazing up at you, he slowly regained his confidence and nodded, “But now, I’m gonna escape for sure this time and go back home! Screw the crown and these dumb silk clothes!” 
“Easy, Epel, for now we just do as we’re told. I don’t want things to get too out of hand if it isn’t necessary. In the original story, the queen, king in this situation, causes his own death. As long as we avoid angering him AND avoid Neige, we should be fine. But…” You considered your next words carefully. What if something goes wrong? What if things had to change drastically in order to survive? Would you have a better chance at surviving if the protagonist, Neige, were to actually die and the antagonist, Vil, receive a good ending instead? You didn’t truly want to kill the prince, even if he was naive, he seemed like a truly good person. But if it was you or him… “I still need to see how things play out. If it comes down to it and things take a wrong turn, how far will you go to survive?” 
Epel gave you a look before scoffing and taking out his dagger as a reminder, “I was about ready to stab ya just to escape and get back home. I’ll do anything to make it outta here alive, to make sure both of us live. But now since you’re helping me out, and I’m helping you out, we gotta stick together. Got it?”
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For your own safety, you deemed it better to do nothing in the meanwhile as you waited to see if the plot would progress as it did in the story. What you hadn’t taken into account was how long the wait would be. Apparently when Vil instructed Rook to escort Neige out to be discreetly killed, he didn’t mean right at that second. It was something he had planned to happen soon, but not quite yet. This gave you enough time to assess the situation.
One thing you were grateful for was the former retainer’s work ethic. The beautiful king had deemed you had done enough by assisting in his endeavors that included potion-brewing and murder, something you hadn’t actually done, at least not for him. So, your responsibilities included keeping Epel in check as a prince-in-training and staying out to receive enough sunlight as per Vil’s strict orders. 
For the remainder of the first day and the following second day, you and Epel reviewed the lessons he loathed and quietly retreated to garden grooves to discuss possible plans of action including what to do afterwards when you had both gained your freedom. Additionally, you learned from the heir that you were not so different from the character you replaced. Even Epel admitted he was fooled until that one mistake you made of acknowledging Neige. So, all you would have to do was keep calm and be yourself, but also not yourself. You were technically playing the role of someone else that just happened to act like you. 
Your superior had summoned you on the second night. When you arrived, you saw servants around the ballroom decorating the area with fine silk curtains and candelabras. Round tables set up in another section of the extensive room, tables set with sheets and porcelain. Vil stood at the edge of the room, noticing you out of the corner of his eyes as another attendant brought to his attention something about outfits. 
As Vil began to strut towards another room, you could do nothing but follow as he commanded, “Hurry now, my retainer.” 
You did as you were told, following and noting down the little details from the dark colors used in most of the decorations as well as the mention of flowers being prepared. Once in a private room with you and his entourage, he delicately removed his crown from his blonde tresses. “Epel is much more tame with you. I swear, that boy is giving me white hair.” 
No, but you’re going to do that to yourself, you think as you recall the scene from the story where the beautiful queen turns herself into a ragged old hag. “He can be… a little troublesome, yes.” You stand closer to the door as the beautiful young man disappears behind an elegantly patterned dressing screen. 
Judging by the servants there carefully handling various types of clothes, you could only assume he was trying on different outfits for whatever event he was preparing to host. During a review of Epel’s lessons, you were able to learn as well. Despite Vil being a person of great envy and cruelty, he was actually a fair leader that was beloved by most, so long as they didn’t incur his wrath. Reportedly, multiple nobles, knights, and other royals have vied for the beautiful king’s affection, but to no avail. All were turned down. 
“Troublesome, hah, you’re being much too kind. That wouldn’t be my choice of word.” Vil scoffed as he changed behind the screen. Once he was seemingly satisfied with an outfit after throwing multiple aside, he emerged in a slightly long, dark, and exquisite dress-like garb with large sleeves. Snapping his fingers, he stood straight as his eyes lingered on you as he said simply, “Jewels.” 
Picking up his meaning, you gingerly plucked the intricate golden necklace a nearby servant was carrying on a pillow and assisted him in placing it on. You steadied your breathing as you noticed that he was watching you carefully. Moving in front of him, you placed the detailed and sharp claw rings on his index finger and ring finger as he raised his hand. 
“How is this?” 
You took a step back and looked him over when you realized he was speaking to you, not anyone else in the room. You knew what he wanted to hear, but you couldn’t help but think that the evil king was indeed…. “Gorgeous.” 
He didn’t respond. Instead, he extended out his arm, the tip of the silver claw he wore on his finger at your neck as you instinctively lifted your chin at his gesture to avoid being poked. You weren’t really sure what he was thinking, and it was making you anxious. Had he seen through you as Epel had? Or perhaps he was cross? There were a million different ways to die in this story. There was a reason you were sent here and that was to meet a cruel end. 
“You flatter me, my retainer. I know you don’t sugarcoat words.” Vil tilted his head, analyzing you from another angle as he smiled. Unexpectedly, his soft and pale hand was placed on your cheek. You felt your heart stop, whether from fear or something else, you couldn’t be sure. “You see, proper sunlight and sleep does work miracles. You no longer have those horrid eyebags.” Lowering his hand, his smile was gone as he seemed to recall something. “You’re the only competent and trustworthy person in this entire castle, my pet, besides myself, of course. What would I do without you? Always there for me, even before I ascended to the throne. Even when my father married that awful woman that brought the perfect lovely boy that became my brother and a stain in my life…” 
After a moment of considering your response, you replied quietly, “You have always loathed Neige, haven’t you…?” The prince’s sweet words and shy smile instantly came to mind. 
Upon detecting your words, you watched his expression sour as he instantly commanded everyone, who were too far and busy to hear anyways, to leave at once. All except you. Now, you remain alone with the king. It seems like you hit a nerve with your words, and you feared what he would do to you now that the two of you were alone.
Vil took a sharp breath before raising his head to meet your eyes. Under his intense gaze, you felt small but you merely swallowed your growing restlessness and kept your lips shut as he began, “I’ve always told you that I do not want you to ever utter his name. I lost the kingdom’s people to him, my friends left me for him, even my own father was beginning to favor him! I refuse to lose you too! If that boy takes one more thing away from me––” 
“I’ve stayed this long.” You attempted, interjecting with words that you thought would fit this character you were playing. 
“Because I demanded it.” His response caught you by surprise, but what was more unnerving was what came out of his lips next. “Father accepted my request for you to become my retainer, but the woman he married did not. And so, I concocted my very own poison, more lethal than cyanide, and slipped it into her wine. You are here because I wanted you here. Of course, I never revealed that to you until now.” You were given almost no time to process his words as he changed the subject, lifting his hand to admire his silver claw rings and painted nails. “I must admit, I was beginning to become a little concerned with you hardly leaving the undercroft in recent months. I was afraid you had become dull as I kept you to myself, and you know I don’t exactly like dull people by my side. I didn’t want to toss you aside after all we’ve been through together.”
Pursing your lips, reeling from this wave of new information, you murmured, albeit unsurely, “I don’t believe I’m dull… I like to think of myself as interesting.” 
Amethyst eyes landed on you, the blonde man scrutinizing you as he gibed with a frown, “Was I asking your opinion or stating mine?” 
Staring right at him, your snarky reply is already pouring out before you can even stop it. “Well, are you asking me my opinion…?” It’s silent as his cold gaze instantly lands on you. Shit. You instantly avert your eyes downward and bow your head in apology, knowing you fucked up. This was why you kept everything to yourself. This king poisoned his own step-mother for not giving him what he wanted, he ordered the former retainer to kill six innocent candidates for his competition to become heir, and he was willing to murder his very own brother who admired and loved him. What would he do to a raven with a sharp tongue? Just as possible scenarios begin flashing in your mind and you remain bowing, you clenched your fist, prepared to unsheath your hidden sword under your cloak and fight back if necessary–– when he laughed. Vil laughed. 
It wasn’t a mocking one of ridicule, but rather an amused one. Lifting the back of his hand to his lips to partially cover his mouth, his laughing ceased. There was amusement, a wicked and eager look in his eyes as he hummed, “There’s that plucky side of you I missed so dearly!” Smiling, he reached forward, carefully tugging your hood down as he scolded lightly, “What have I said about wearing your hood around me? Especially indoors. Honestly, you never learn. I should strip you of that cloak you always stubbornly refuse to remove, that way you always show your face as you’re told.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again…” Unsurely you kept quiet, only offering to change the subject once the king had reached over to trail his fingers along the side of your face. “If I may ask, what’s the occasion? I wasn’t notified of these ongoing preparations.” 
“A funeral.” Vil noticed how you went quiet and how your eyes widened. At your reaction, he chuckled, lowering his hand away from your face to tap his sharp finger against his chin. “Why so quiet? Don’t worry, it’s not for you. It’s merely… a preparation in advance.” Oh. You realized who it was for now. The thought of his rival dying seemed to bring the king joy as he smiled so cruelly. How morbid. Then, his attention returned back to you. It seemed he was thinking of something else now once his sights landed on some trashed envelopes in the bin, because his expression had turned to one of mild annoyance. “These suitors from afar are so bothersome. No matter how I refuse their advances, they continue with their gifts and letters filled with flattery, thinking that’ll be enough to win me over. How wrong they are. Love affairs are of no use or any interest to me…” 
You gazed at the bin chock full of paper and shattered gifts. Your voice was quiet, but it carried in the silence of the room. “It must be difficult to be so admired…” 
“Indeed it is.” Vil nodded, continuing to tap his chin thoughtfully. Those eyes on the trashed envelopes slowly made their way over to you, his slight frown morphing to an amused smile. “Although, perhaps I’ve changed my mind…” Extending his hand, you slowly and unsurely slid your left hand into his palm. Vil stepped closer, so close you could smell his sweet perfume and all you could see was him. You felt like a caged bird, cornered, as he leaned just a tad bit closer and continued to smile. However, now his smile was more teasing, but it felt wicked and dubious, “Once Neige is gone, all that time I spent being tormented and pestered by him, can now be dedicated to you. Lately, I’ve been watching you, and there’s something intriguing about you now. It’s as if you’re no longer so absorbed in your work, like you’re finally seeing me as something more than just your superior. You haven’t been brewing potions of passion in the undercroft, have you?” 
By now your face was hot, burning at his implications, by his close proximity, by the look in his eyes that made you think he may genuinely be interested but the tiny voice of reason in the back of your head waving red flags at his notions. When he suspected you were even considering looking away from his intense gaze to avoid eye contact, he squeezed your hands in warning, his nail rings pricking your skin ever so slightly. So you were forced to meet his gaze and reply awkwardly, “Of course not… I’m not you.” 
The king cackled, raising the back of his other hand to his lips again. With a tone of confidence, he did not even hesitate to respond, “Oh, you’re funny. My poor pet… I would say you’re bird-brained, but you’re not that.” He leaned his head right beside yours, until his painted lips lingered by your ear. The proximity was making you dizzy. His voice was like honey as he whispered, “I don’t need a potion to win you over––” 
“Your Majesty, our wondrous Vil!” 
Saved by the huntsman. You resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief while Vil continued to grip your hands and slowly pull away, his head turned to glare at the one who dared to interrupt the moment he was so engrossed in. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he managed to control himself as he merely hissed, “Speak.” 
During the pause, you were able to shift your gaze over to him. The huntsman was at the open window, one foot inside already and hands gripping the sides to heave himself up. Why didn’t he come through the door like a normal person? Wasn’t this room on the second floor? 
“I have to remind you of your meeting with your precious heir apparent.” Rook smiled as he fully entered through the window, seemingly paying no heed to the scene he just stumbled upon or the vexation in the king’s tone. 
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Releasing his hold on your hand, he sent you one last chilling glance. When he leaned closer once again to whisper in your ear, your breath hitched as he purred, “Later.” Once he stepped away, he gave you one last mesmerizing look before exiting the room. Yes, you were thankful you didn’t have to deal with the king until next time, but now you pitied Epel for having to stand his presence for hours of lecturing and scolding.  
Once the king was gone, you felt vulnerable. While he was pushing you on the edge with his advances and you knew any sign of rejection might tick him off, it was a different kind of unease now that you were alone with the huntsman who you eyed warily. By the time your eyes drifted back to him, you felt your heart rate spike as you noticed he was staring. Upon your gaze meeting his own, he merely smiled a little wider as he hummed. 
There was no way you would willingly stick around to be alone with him. 
As you slid your hood back on, prepared to take your leave as well, the huntsman’s sharp green eyes landed on the palm of your right hand that was lifted up to move your hood. For a moment, his narrowed gaze vanished and instead was replaced with a quizzical look and a curious smile. Stepping forward, he took your hand in his gloved grip, but he was careful as the tip of his finger traced the now fading injury caused by Epel’s bite. He gasped lightly.
“My, my, what kind of beast could have caused this damage that tarnished your skin? How dare they, for a creature as lovely as you to be wounded like this, why, it should be criminal!” 
You hesitate, looking down at the mark that had partially healed on its own. It wasn’t that deep anyways. “Dog.” 
Those watchful green eyes flickered up to your expression for a moment, before he chuckled and shook his head. His blonde hair swished back and forth a bit with his head movement, as he removed some gauze from his satchel. There was a hint of amusement that appeared in his smile, and while he wrapped the gauze around your hand, he spoke, “A dog? Ah, I see… But, dogs have much sharper canines that would have cut deeper into the flesh. I’ve hunted an untold amount of wildlife in my time, and encountered nearly every species in the animal kingdom. And this bite mark doesn’t match any creature that comes to mind. It’s truly odd, isn’t it? The shape of the wounds nearly looks like it was formed by something… human.” 
He knows. He knows you were lying. You go completely still, allowing him to complete what he was doing. It felt like he was purposefully taking his time in wrapping the gauze securely, as if he were going slowly just to get some sort of reaction. What was his goal? Seeing his eyes on you as he finished the task was unnerving. Could he hear your rapidly increasing heart rate? Was he able to detect the growing alarm you felt? 
At your silence, he merely shrugs and finally lowers your hand. That cursed gaze travels away as he says in a near-whisper, “Marks such as those aren’t meant for the hand, they’d do nicely elsewhere though.” 
“What?” 
“Ah, forgive me, I haven’t apologized for my sudden earlier intrusion between yourself and His Majesty.” Was he seriously going to gloss over what he said as if it were nothing? Now he was back to his positive demeanor. Although his smile was different now, it seemed more harmless, that didn’t do much to place you at ease in the slightest. “It wasn’t my intention to barge in! But I will admit, while the sight was exquisite and it was the very picture of romance, I did feel a twinge of jealousy.” 
Did the huntsman like the king like that…? For a moment, your heartbeat steadied as you got a hold of your composure. Honestly, that moment with Vil is probably the first and last you’ll ever get to a romantic moment with a gorgeous person. “Oh, was it because of me?” 
You were about to put out a quick and simple apology, but you didn’t get a verbal response. No. Rook only smiled with mirth, his eyes glimmering with amusement appeared to narrow again as he crossed his arms. At his lack of a reply, you feel right on the edge once again, your heart rate picking up immediately again. 
“... You were jealous of the situation I was in with His Majesty, right…?” 
There was no response yet again. However, the bridge of his nose crinkled slightly as his shoulders shook with the quiet laughter that came out of him. Much like before, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he continues to speak as if this were nothing but mere pleasant conversation. “I must admit, it is always a joy to see you. I must have done something favorable by lady luck, because our paths continue to cross much more frequently. Ah, I’d like to share with you something I experienced. Just a few hours ago, I happened across writing and I could not help but be reminded of your being which remains shrouded in mystery. I believe it went something like…” Rook cleared his throat as he recited somewhat dramatically, “This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing. To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core. Ah, those fiery eyes of yours are exactly what I envisioned in my mind as I read those poem’s lines…! To finally be the one who those focused eyes lay upon––” “Are you done? I’m busy.” You interject, managing to keep an even tone and stoic expression, but it was difficult considering that you just could not relax around the huntsman. You did not forget how he didn’t answer the question about jealousy, which made you nervous as you imagined the possibility that maybe he wasn’t jealous of you with Vil. 
Not offended by the curt response, Rook only continued positively. Not only was his reaction, or rather lack of one, very slightly annoying, it was worrying. Most people would have been surprised and maybe even upset by the interruption, but he didn’t appear negatively affected in the slightest. You couldn’t predict his behavior, and that alone was cause for concern. “Forgive me, I’m simply thrilled to finally be holding a proper conversation with you! Normally by now you would have turned heel and walked away, which is why I currently think you are particularly bewitching these past few days. It’s as if the fog around you that you used to cloak your most private secrets and puzzling nature has passed but been replaced by a thicker cloud of fog. You’re an enigma. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 
In that moment you held your breath and you felt your blood run cold. Automatically your mind drifted to the weight of the sword on your back. It was heavy, heavier than his dagger and more useful at this proximity than his bow. However, pulling out a sword against him was counterproductive when he was a vital part of the catalyst that sparked the sequence of events that would eventually lead to the story’s ending. 
Considering your options, allowing the villains to live and perhaps even assisting them in the end would weigh in your favor. Afterall, you had yet to see any prince or princess for Neige, which meant things were already changing whether you liked it or not. Say a good ending was achieved where the pretty protagonist prince lived happily ever after. What would this get for you? It wouldn’t be the happy ending you knew in the fairytale if there was no royal on horseback to save Neige after he bites the poisoned apple. Should you somehow help him achieve a good ending, then what? Would he live with the seven dwarves in a cottage for the rest of his life or marry and inherit a crown? What could he offer you? On the other hand, Vil already had the crown, wealth, and power. These living conditions were quite nice when you didn’t have much to do, and if you ever felt threatened, running away with a bag stuffed with gold from the treasury would be easy. 
Perhaps being the beautiful king’s raven wasn’t so bad, all things considered. This was a hell you may be able to adjust to and accept as your punishment. 
“I like when people speak frankly, not in riddles.” You respond calmly, despite the racing of your heart. Responding was a risk, but ignoring his words wasn’t any safer. It made sense as to why he was a hunter, because at the moment you were cornered and he hadn’t so much as removed a single arrow from his quiver. 
Rook, again, only smiled ominously. It didn’t feel like he had malicious intent, but you still felt like you were in danger, you still felt threatened. He could, metaphorically speaking, pull the trigger at any second and you would be dead. As if he saw through you and knew all your secrets. All he was doing now was baiting you for another word, another sentence, another phrase, any slightest sound or action that was a slip-up leading to more information falling into the palm of his hands. Maybe that’s why he didn’t respond. Either that, or you were thinking way too deeply and the paranoia was starting to consume your mind. You wanted to believe it was the former and you weren’t quite insane yet. 
Finally, he chuckled, amused as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered at you with his forest green eyes. You could only imagine how terrifying he was when he was truly in his element, when he shed formalities and used the weapons strapped to him. “Your eyes speak a million words, and your actions paint a most curious story! Tell me, little raven, what words do you have for me?” 
Were you seriously participating unwillingly in this dangerous dance with the very man that served Vil? Rook was his huntsman, he was to hide no secrets from His Majesty and carry out his will. And it felt like Rook knew everything he wasn’t supposed to know.
It could have been the adrenaline and fear you felt in this current moment underneath the composed facade that formed the words in your head. Clutching your wrapped hand to your chest, you took a breath. You really were just like a wounded animal he was seconds from ensnaring. Although you wouldn’t hesitate to lash out. Ravens were known for plucking out eyes. The answer came too fast, “You won’t be able to do it. You can’t kill the prince.” 
Upon hearing your words, Rook appeared surprised, but it was only momentarily. Only a second or two of shock, before his bewilderment morphed into satisfaction. Like he had just won and caught the quarry. “Ah, how wonderful! So, you have decided to impart your knowledge upon me just as you have to Epel! I feel truly privileged!” 
You froze in place. You never once mentioned anything to Rook about what you knew from the story, and you trusted that Epel would keep his mouth shut. So how did he know? 
It’s like that piercing gaze of his could see directly into your mind, as if he could hear your very inner thoughts. As you remained stagnant in shock, waiting to see who would be the brave soul to make the first move, he spoke amicably, answering the question you never voiced. “Even the walls have ears. It is my duty to serve His Majesty in any way I can, so of course no whispers or rumors escape me.” Then, his smile turned sad and disappeared, that jovial tone diminished to a quiet whisper, “But, you are correct. I cannot do it.” 
You raised an eyebrow at his words, processing his confession. Seeing the huntsman with his head lowered toward you, was exactly like in storybook book pages that depicted a humble huntsman bowing before a princess to beg for forgiveness. It's possible that maybe the huntsman wasn’t evil, afterall, he would be the one to spare the innocent royal. Maybe he had a heart, a good one. But you didn’t. 
“Why? You can hunt animals and drag seven innocent people here to involuntarily compete for the crown. And you knew six of those seven were to die, didn’t you?” You crossed your own arms after making sure the black hood was securely over your head. 
Catching a glimpse of his somber frown, you knew his answer would remain unchanging. He did not have the guts to go forth and stain his hands red with the blood of an innocent prince. “I… I did not know they would perish. I truly thought they would be set free.” 
You sigh, contemplating your next actions. You truly didn’t want to harm Neige either, even if Vil despised him with all his heart, mind, and soul. However, the highest chances of you avoiding a terrible fate and achieving some sort of wonderful life, could only be accomplished if the Evil King received a good ending. That could only happen if the prince was dead, as Vil would only be deemed the fairest one of all once his rivals were vanquished. “Fine then, if you cannot do it, I’ll do it myself.” 
Rook, apparently temporarily shocked, was stunned by the resolve in your own words. He searched for any wavering determination before he tried to smile once more. For now he lowered his feathered hat to his chest as he spoke and stretched out an inviting hand, “Let’s not talk such dreary things. Please, there’s a lovely view at the top of the palace where you might perhaps tell me more about this story. I’m awfully curious, and it just might help me finally understand you better.”
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It became clear after that fateful evening that Rook knew every happening that occurred in the palace and in the nearby town. There was no possible way to keep it secret, so you told him the basics such as that this was a story and he was a character within the tale, but you decided it best to tell him no more than that. It would be optimal to give him no upper hand at all. It was then promised that he wouldn’t share this information, and you made doubly sure to emphasize the fact that you would make certain that he received a bad ending if he were to betray your trust. However, the eccentric huntsman only laughed in amusement at your threat. What a weirdo. 
Well, at the very least, Rook was not the only one keeping tabs on happenings within the palace. That was what you had Epel for, he was useful in giving up information when it was needed. Even if he was formerly a peasant boy, he was no idiot. He never gave anything for free, it was a trade of knowledge which you didn’t entirely mind. There were lots of useless story details and scenes you could give up, such as the existence of the dwarves and the cottage in the woods. Besides, at the rate this story was shifting, those characters nor settings would no longer be necessary. 
But one day, Epel brought a very interesting account that could potentially change everything. 
Within the private training room where the king’s valued heir took fencing lessons, the door was abruptly slammed open, and there stood the said heir looking particularly ruffled. Manners tossed aside by how harshly he opened the door and flung it shut behind him, he ripped his cloak off his shoulders and chucked it aside as if it weren’t a carefully tailored cloth and instead a wash rag. Etiquette forgotten from his countless hours of learning it, he spoke naturally in his odd and difficult to understand dialect. “Vil’s pitchin’ a hissy fit with a tail on it! I was nearabout ready to come back, figured you’re way better than listening to all them uppity folk––” 
You stopped, lowering the new lighter and sharper sword you exchanged for the old one you carried on your back. He spoke so quickly and said so many words that went completely over your head, you had to give him a look as you interrupted his talking, “English, Felmier.” 
Freezing in his tracks, he groaned and repeated in a clearer, simpler manner, “Vil is mad. There. You happy?” 
“Then say so.” 
“I did!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. Epel continued, but thankfully not in his natural dialect. Although it was evident that he was still peeved about something. “There was some girl that showed up, a princess or something, and she asked for an audience with Vil! I happened to overhear, everyone was raving thinkin’ that it was just another princess asking for the king’s hand, but when she was talkin’ to Vil, she asked for Neige’s hand!” 
The prince. It was the prince, now princess, that was originally supposed to be the one that Prince Neige fell in love with. The arrival of the princess would certainly throw a wrench in the plan. Why had it taken her so long to show up when you had already believed that they would no longer be involved within the tale? 
The lavender-haired former farmer boy, paced back and forth in this wide training space. Usually he’d take an interest in the fencing equipment, it was one of the few lessons he actually enjoyed and took part in without so much stubborn complaints or begrudging behavior. But right now, he was far too troubled to even think about fencing. “When Vil summoned Neige to meet the princess, he turned her down! Said somethin’ about having feelings already for someone within the palace. Well, whoever it was, Vil must’ve known, because he nearly went haywire right then and there!” Stopping his steps, he turned to you and went on accusingly, “You know who it is, don’t you? Spit it out!” 
“It’s me…” This could not be happening–– You never were supposed to gain the affection of that pure-hearted prince! Now, Vil likely figured out who his step-brother had eyes for, and this would not bide well with his envious nature. 
Those big blue eyes of his widened in shock. “What?!” 
Neige had to be gone and fast. But how could one make a prince disappear? It wasn’t as if he could be done with and escape the consequences. The royal was beloved by the citizens far too much, should they learn that he was murdered, things would quickly become problematic. There could be no raising a blade against him. Unless… an accident of sorts was staged. 
Suddenly, you’re reminded of the image of a delicious red apple, a tool to the original plot that becomes the princess’ demise. Perhaps you didn’t have to stray too far from the plot after all. However, someone would have to take the blame once the deed was done. “Is the princess still here?” 
Confused by the inquiry but nodding in response, Epel looked even more baffled than before. “Yeah, but why do you care? What’s she got to do with this? Don’t tell me she’s somebody important.” 
If staying with Vil was the quickest and easiest route where a good ending for yourself was more certain, then you’d take it. No princess or prince would get in the way, and you would use Epel to help secure the ending. Even if some persuasion was needed, since you knew he didn’t have much of an appreciation for the current king. Lowering your blade on the table, you left it behind as you approached him, close enough to place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye. Close enough so he could hear the whisper that came from your lips, so quiet that not even a mouse in the walls could detect what was said, only he could hear these words. “We are going to assassinate Prince Neige.” 
Epel gazed at you with pure disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth open a gape in bewilderment. “But that’s Rook’s––” 
“Rook can’t be counted on.” You counter. At the moment, you were unsure if Rook could really go through and murder the prince with his own two hands. You’ve trusted him enough with your own secrets, but you certainly didn’t trust him with your fate.
The heir appeared to contemplate it. The atmosphere had turned somber, like he was seriously considering it. Not just anyone could stomach the knowledge, but he appeared to be processing it just fine. That is, until he suggested something that surprised even you. “Why not just, change the target to someone of higher power and just… you know.” He made a swift slicing motion over his neck. You knew exactly what he meant, and who he meant. “That way, we’d both be free.” 
“It’s not guaranteed to work. Killing a king would be more difficult than killing a prince that the king wants dead anyways.” You point out that simple fact. There were constantly guards around the king like worker bees following their queen. However, here on palace grounds, most avoided the prince as they knew interacting with him was a quick and easy way to make the king bitter. This made Neige vulnerable. 
A frown appeared on his lovely face, etched on like a pout. While his look may be an endearing one, his voice did not say the same. By his tone, he sounded unsure, maybe even a tad bit annoyed as he accused, “You forgot, I don’t give a damn about the crown! If that happened, it would mean that I’ll definitely end up taking Vil’s place one day.” 
“I didn’t forget.” You reply instantly, using logic to convince him that this was the best option available. “You forget how vain his majesty is. Vil will never give up the crown willingly. The only time he’ll give it up, is when he’s old and gray and on his deathbed. By then, you’d either be long gone on to freedom, or have figured out some other way to handle the matter in whatever way you want. As for me, I don’t care who’s king, as long as I get to live and be happy.” You could visibly see the gears turning in his head as he heard your words. You add more to pressure him further and make him see reason. “Like it or not, you’re involved. In whatever way this ends, just remember, the citizens of this kingdom will likely not be so kind to you if word ever reached them that you were the chosen heir of the king, a king that abused the precious prince. Even if you didn’t participate directly, the fact still stands that you’re connected to Vil. If Neige receives his happily ever after, everything may end alright, or it may not, but I can’t guarantee your safety in that case. That’s why I suggest getting rid of him now, and placing the blame on someone else.” 
“Someone else… They’ll never suspect us. This is insane, I mean, I don’t care for that guy but… me, you, us––” He slapped his hand over his mouth, moving it up towards his hair. The young man looked so stressed that he was about ready to pull out his lavender curls. And yet, there wasn’t really anger. Mild irritation maybe, but not anger, and something else was there. Something foreign to you. “I’d kill for you, you’d kill for me.” 
Ah, maybe. Maybe not. It depended on the situation, but he didn’t need to know that. Although it was reassuring to hear that he was most definitely an ally that would help to achieve your goal. 
His small hands remained on his scalp, tangled in his hair, gripping his own head as he raved, “Don’t tell me you’ve been learnin’ all that potions stuff from the king! It feels like I’m going crazy, havin’ these unnatural thoughts I never had before–– I’ve been imagining things. I want to get out of this dump, but I imagined runnin’ away with you, showing you my village, introducing you to my ma and everyone else back home! Then forgetting everyone else in this stupid place!” 
Those big blue eyes gazed right at you, scanning your face that he’s come to actually grow fond of. Out of everyone in this hell, he actually liked your company, craved it even. There’s no one else here on palace grounds that he would willingly talk to without grumbling about it. Even if it began with the original retainer, his trust grew with you, the imposter. 
“It’s all your damn fault…! But I’m not mad, I can’t be, even though I want to spit and punch you for this but at the same time I don’t wanna hurt you. Just, tell me right now, to my face. Tell me it’s stupid and I’m actin’ dumb so I quit it!” 
You nod, a bit stunned by the outburst. However, you had other plans in mind. “Keep it up.” 
By now maybe it was giving him false hope at an ending he dreamed of, but he was still useful to you. So for now, you ignored his look of shock and pink on his cheeks as you pried his hand off his head and he lowered his other hand to his side. 
The plan was simple really, it would be far too easy if you could actually manage to pull it off. “I’m telling you this, because you will have to help me guide the princess in the right direction. Talk to her, steer the conversation to romance. If she’s smart, she’ll ask you for advice assuming you know Neige. Suggest giving a gift. Once everything is over, then we can think about your hometown.” 
There was still shock on his face, as if he was still struggling a bit to process everything that was coming out of your mouth. It seemed like it was a lot, as one of his dainty hands held your hand tightly while his other hand gripped part of the cloth of his shirt, his knuckles turning white from the strength behind his grip. “I thought you were kinda cool. Not as annoying as Rook or Vil or anyone else, and I wanted to escape with you…! But this murder plan just makes it seem like you’re exactly like that old raven that you replaced, but for some stupid reason I still can’t not like you.”
“It will technically not be murder. In a way… It’s complicated.” 
There were apple trees at the very corner of the royal grounds. A basket of fruit would be a sweet and kind gesture with unsuspecting maliciousness intertwined. All that was needed was to take the apple that would be picked, poison it as the beautiful queen did in the original tale, and place it back in the basket that the princess would offer to the prince. Poisoning it as it was done in the fairytale, wouldn’t truly kill Niege. It would merely place him under a death like sleep, with the chance that he may one day wake up several years in the future long after we are gone. Because really, Neige didn’t truly deserve death. However, even if he was to never wake up, at least he would be in a dream and avoid a brutal end by his jealous step-brother. 
“But there’s only one person who can make the poison we need for this to succeed…” 
✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
The plan had to be enacted before Rook could take Neige to pick flowers. Luckily, or unluckily for you, a request for an audience with the king was not even needed. Before you could even search for him as you were rereading pages of the heavy tome in the undercroft, there was the creaking of the wooden door that signaled someone entering the dungeon beneath the palace. 
Hardly anyone else ventured down here, and by the clicking of heels against the stone floors, it became obvious of who it was. Your theories were only confirmed true when you felt a presence behind you, peering over your shoulder as the delightfully familiar voice that filled you with unease greeted kindly, “My dear retainer.” 
Instantly you felt your body stiff and rigid, feeling uncertain under his gaze. You were many things, but often fearful wasn’t one of them. This story was just filled with characters that made you tense, the king being the one that troubled you the most. Despite all this, you managed to remain polite, only turning your head to nod at him with respect. “Your Majesty. It’s a surprise to see you down here.” 
“I could say the same. Didn’t I specifically instruct you to stay aboveground for the time being?” It sounded like a scolding, but it was nowhere near as harsh as one. In fact, it sounded more like gentle chastising. Not at all like the harsh criticism and stern reprimanding he gave to anyone else. Not another word came about that before his amethyst eyes landed on the pages you were reading. “Poison apple. You weren’t by chance planning to assassinate me with that, were you? That’s not nearly enough poison to eliminate me. Haven’t you heard of mithridatism?” 
Mithridatism? Did he practice that? It’s a good thing that you ultimately did not choose the path of killing him, as he likely would have proven much more difficult than any other target. If you had attempted to take his life and it failed, you could only imagine how frightful the king would become in his rage at your betrayal. The mere thought made you shudder.
It wasn’t easy to focus when he was directly behind you, his chest practically against your back as he continued reading over your shoulder. “Not you… I was considering this for the prince. I believe that I’m the only one that can stomach handling this, not the huntsman.” 
“Interesting… and why did you choose the poison apple?” To think that the beautiful man that currently had his chin on your shoulder, would probably be an wretched old peddler with wrinkled skin and hair white as snow, if the story had stayed on course. It was plausible that the beautiful queen turning herself ugly just to kill her rival was an analogy of sorts for the hideousness of her personality. And yet, when the king who was based on that very character was in your presence, yes he was vile and cruel but he was rather fair to you. Especially when he expressed a sort of tenderness in his smile and looked down at you through his long lashes. 
“It’s a special sort of death.” Upon reading through most of the pages of the thick leather tome, you discovered that a huge majority of the deadly spells had antidotes and ways to be reversed. Many were easy to reverse, some were harder, but the most difficult antidote to receive was for those that ate the poisoned apple. It was no wonder the evil queen originally chose it, as it was only by chance that the prince awoke the princess with true love’s first kiss. “Not easy to find an antidote for.” 
“Hm…” His head continued to linger on your shoulder, his lips and part of his nose buried by the cloth on your shoulder as his watchful gaze remained stuck on you through his half-lidded eyes. At such a close proximity with his face literally inches from yours, you didn’t dare turn your head, but in your peripheral vision you could make out the black mascara and smokey light eyeshadow that accentuated his fine features. Even without the use of makeup, he was sure to be stunning. “As expected, you dally away precious time. However, there’s a princess…” 
“So I’ve heard.” Your response was careful, as this conversation was quickly approaching dangerous territory. From what was told to you by Epel, after the princess arrived, Vil summoned Neige to speak about it when the young oblivious prince admitted he loved someone within the palace. Vil knew who, you knew. As this conversation progressed, you would have to choose your words carefully. It would be like walking in a minefield. 
It started, you realized, as his fond gaze slowly shifted to something a little more cold. While you couldn’t see his mouth due to the position he was in, you guessed he wasn’t smiling lightly in content and intrigue like before. “Then I assume you know of the prince’s… let’s call it, an insignificant crush.” 
“Yes…” A crush may not be the term Neige would have preferred. The prince would have likely used flowery language akin to the type seen in romantic novels read in the middle ages. But you weren’t going to fret over the small details. Stoically you replied, “If you desire it done, I can be rid of both the prince and princess. An apple for the prince, and a jail cell for the princess.” 
Vil raised a carefully plucked blonde eyebrow, his careful vigilance turning to astonished curiousness as he connected the dots with the clues given by your words. He seemed to understand, and take delight in your response as he nodded against your shoulder. “This is why you’re my favorite.” 
Averting your gaze down to the parchment paper in the tome, you placed your palm against the surface and read off ingredients that were needed. None of which you understood. Not that you would even attempt making something so potent. In the middle of your reading, you felt arms snake around your waist, rendering you motionless as if being paralyzed by some other poison he could’ve used. 
By your ear you felt his warm breath, and his arms were surprisingly strong as he held you tightly, preventing you from going anywhere. The words he spoke in his feathery voice felt like they tickled the side of your neck and caused a shiver to go down your spine. Was it fear or was it pleasure? “… You could finally use those funeral preparations you made in advance.”
“True… This type of poison could be made with ease by me, it merely requires patience as the brew seeps through the simmering apple. It will take some hours. There are many different poisons, but one of this caliber that requires magic is most lethal. And yet, it looks so delicious. Entrancing and deadly, my favorite combination.” One of his hands roamed up to your neck, his well-manicured nails and soft fingers casually resting on your throat. There was this creeping feeling that he wasn’t talking about the poisoned apple anymore. Externally you remained cool and level-headed, but internally you felt your breath still in that moment as your heart picked up speed. And it was like he saw all these signs on you, reading you like an open book. “The breath will still, the heart will beat rapidly in those final moments…” 
You know he didn’t poison you, but it felt as if you were sick with something that was worse than poison. You shifted in place, keeping your breathing even. Never once have you prepared for a situation like this. Removing your hands from the tome, you lowered them over his knuckle, one of his own hands still around your waist like a belt. The intention was to attempt to pry off his hands, at least, that’s what you think you were trying to accomplish, but Vil took it as an invitation to continue. 
A hum like a purr came from him as he moved his head closer, so his lips were practically at the exposed flesh of your neck. And yet, he didn’t move. You remained as still as a statue, while he murmured in a quiet and confident tone that slowly morphed into something pleading and desperate. “Nevermore will you, my previous retainer, have to stray from me again. Once he is gone, everything will be made right. There will be none left worthy of your companionship, except for me. I will be your sole companion. So do not leave…” 
You felt a tremor throughout your body as he placed a lingering kiss against your neck, his soft lips by your jaw before he pulled away. Not even far enough so you could see his face, he only moved his head away an inch, as if even the thought of being physically apart right now was too much to bear. 
His arms around your torso tightened, and your back was pressed flush against his chest. His voice was low and intoxicating, this was dangerous. “For now, you’ll assist me in making the poisoned apple. While we wait a few hours for it to simmer and absorb the toxic qualities in the cauldron, we’ll be spending some… quality time together, my pet.”
✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
The next morning, you awoke slowly, feeling groggy and tired, until everything came rushing back and you sat upright in alarm. You were in the familiar bedroom that once belonged to the retainer you replaced. However, there was a slight warmth on the other half of the mattress, as if someone had just been laying beside you and left not too long ago. 
On the wall as you sat up, you could see your reflection in the mirror, the messy bedhead and tired looking eyes, but also the slightest traces of red lipstick stains on your neck and across parts of your face. 
You had zero time to process what had happened before you spotted the shiny red apple on the counter with a small note beside it. The note simply read, For your mission. Wash your face once you wake up.
It took almost no time at all to get dressed and prepared, and wash your face. By now, Epel should already be speaking to the princess, advising her to attempt to appeal to the prince by picking fruit from the garden and gifting it to the royal she loved. Your task now was to simply add the poisoned apple when no one was looking. 
As you opened the door, you noticed a shadow and quickly hid the apple in a pocket of your long black cloak, just as familiar blonde locks and forest green eyes came into view. You closed the door behind you, as you were greeted by a welcoming smiling and that accented voice that bid good morning. 
“Ah, petit corbeau! What a fine day, isn’t it?” Immediately your gaze went to his expression and his hands, your ears keenly listening to his tone of voice. It didn’t appear as if he were hiding anything. There was no somberness to his voice, no frown on his face, and no red staining his hands. Although, the good killers always washed their hands clean of the evidence. 
For now, you don’t bother asking why he was outside of your room. Knowing Rook, he’d probably say some flattering words with an unsettling meaning hidden within his ornate speech. Right now, you would much rather not have to dwell on that for too long when a royal was to die soon. For now, all you do is remind him of your previous words towards him, “You couldn’t do it. So, knowing you somehow overheard what’s to happen today, is this your attempt to stop me?” You were quiet, making sure not to be overheard, only so he could hear your warning and see your cold gaze. “Know that if you try to stop me, that will be a form of treason against His Majesty.” 
That smile turned into a more bleak one, as he struggled to keep up the corners of his lips. He knew what was to happen, of course he did. It was as he said, he knew everything that transpired within the palace grounds. “Ah, I would love to see the raven ruffled up.” He joked lightly before adding in a more serious tone, “Ravens are most commonly associated with bringing the unfortunate news of a passing. As much as I dream of seeing you in your element, I just wish it wasn’t… him. I’d much rather it be me than him, even if being the victim was the only way to catch a glimpse into your true nature and to have your attention solely focused on me.” 
You leered at him, deciding not to take out your blade. Rook was a weirdo, but he most certainly wasn’t a killer. You couldn’t imagine him outright attacking you, even now as he knew that the beloved prince would die either way. “I’ll cut you down too if you get in my way.” 
Unexpectedly, Rook removed his hat and held it to his chest. He gazed at you like how an artist would admire the treasured painting of the beautiful Mona Lisa, as he bowed his head to you, exposing the back of his neck as his blonde hair shifted with his movement. “From you? I would consider it the greatest honor bestowed on me.” 
You merely moved around him, your cloak brushing past him. Even after Neige was dead, Rook would be cause for concern. But you would worry about him then, right now you had an apple in your cloak, a princess to frame, and a prince to assassinate. 
As it turned out, planting the ripe red apple at the top of the basket was the easiest part. It was simple, when the princess had left the basket of freshly picked fruits unattended. Perhaps the worst part was waiting. Waiting to hear when it would happen, when the prince would take that bite that would seal his fate. Part of you wondered if he might dream of you. Afterall, he seemed to have this idealized version of you in his head. So it was possible, but it’s not like you would ever know. 
For now, you appeared as you were told when you were later summoned by the king to the gardens where you emerged after exiting the undercroft on your first day here. Now, you were currently strolling through the private gardens of the palace grounds together, as if you hadn’t both planned murder. Any moment now, you expected a servant to come rushing, the palace would be overrun with commotion once the poisoned apple was consumed. If there were any remnants of the fruit left, you had instructed Epel to dispose of it in the midst of the chaos when no one would notice. 
But right now, it was quiet. A peaceful tranquil quiet, where you could look up at the sky and sun and feel its warmth. One where you were free. Even if you could never return home, perhaps living in this world was better. Should you ever need to, you could always escape the beautiful king. But this was a plan you would keep to yourself. 
Vil remained beside you, looking as elegant as ever with his robes and crown perched atop his skull. Like a peacock promenading in the yards of a private estate. There was one thing that confused you in this story. As angelic as Neige was, and as rotten as the king’s personality might have been, the mirror must’ve been blind if it insisted that Vil was not the fairest of them all. 
The King looked over at you, a pretty smile adorning his face when he saw your eyes on him, just as he liked it. Keeping his hands folded in front of him, the pair stopped beside the well. Since he had dismissed his guards to be alone with you, there was no one else to hear or see what went on between you and him. Those amethyst eyes were no longer so chilling but still more than enough to put you on the edge. “Tell me, my dear, how long were you planning to keep me in the dark?” 
You remained still, confused at his words. What was this about? He seemed content, but what did he mean by this? There was a sneaking suspicion and fear in the back of your mind, but you played it cool as you leaned on the well with your arms on the smooth rocky edge. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.” 
A brief chuckle came from him as he reached over, his thumb rubbing against your cheek and his fingers grazing along your jaw. “You’re amusing.” Abruptly, faster than you can anticipate it, you felt a sharp edge against your throat, not piercing flesh but close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to avoid being cut. It was a knife. 
Your breath hitched. You made no sudden movements, no reaching for your own blade or trying to grab his wrist, because in a single instance he could end you now and that would be the end to your story. Everything you did to get here and set up a decent life, would be utterly useless if you were dead. Taking a deep breath, you purse your lips before holding up your hands to show you had nothing to strike back. “What are you doing, Your Majesty? After everything I did to assist you?” 
The knife was small, compact, decorated with small jewels as shiny as it was sharp. It was small enough to easily be hidden in his robes, but honed enough to easily end you here just as the judges intended for you to go out. “You were useful, but… when it’s just me and my retainer, my trusted retainer refers to me as Vil not Your Majesty.” 
You felt your blood run cold. He knew, this entire time? From the moment you encountered him, did he realize by your use of formalities, or did he figure it out sometime afterward? You’d been played. 
A knowing smile graced his lips once he took in your shock, one of the first clear expressions on your face in so long. Normally you were so composed, it felt like an accomplishment to break that poised demeanor, to see the horror dawn on your face as you were reminded of the judgment that had been cast, of the hell you were in that was veiled by gorgeous folk and the chance at a free life.
Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and winced, anticipating the feeling of the blade running through your throat, there was a shriek. A shrill shriek from a woman, the sound sent a chill running down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin. You anticipated the red spilling from your own neck, but there wasn’t a drop.
The knife was removed from your skin as Vil hummed, not really paying attention to the distant sound of servants scrambling to check on the source of the sound that must’ve come up from one of the upper floors of the palace. “It appears like it’s finally happened.” 
There was no need for further explanation to understand what he meant. The scream must’ve come from the princess who witnessed Prince Neige collapse after taking a bite of the apple. In seconds, guards of the palace will arrive at the crime scene, they’ll see the beloved prince trapped in a sleeping death on the ground and the princess beside him will be the only culprit. It’s done… And yet now, you now had to grapple with Vil knowing you were not who you pretended to be this entire time. 
“I didn’t know you were close.” The raven should’ve been apprehensive of the evil queen that tormented them. Were you wrong? Was their shared history different from the tale? 
“I lied. Please, I’m no imbecile. I think it’s a bit rude that you never properly introduced yourself, but I forgive you considering the unique circumstances.” Expertly he twirled the dagger between his long fingers, while he didn’t even have to focus on his hand to do so. The entire time he stared at you, a smile on his curved lips. “Did you think me a fool that I could be so easily tricked? I had known them for several years, but I must admit, I like you better.” His left arm was crossed over his torso, propping up the right arm that held the knife and casually pointed it at you. “All they did in recent years was hole themself up in the undercroft, but you, you’re plucky, brave, funny too.”
You felt partially numb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–– Everything was going so perfect! Why did he have to know? Was it too late to escape? Could you try and run now that things were turning south, or was it worth staying? Judging by the look in the king’s eyes, staying was likely not the best idea. A caged raven was not a happy one. 
“If you’re honest to me, I’m honest to you. I only tricked you, because you foolishly believed yourself to be playing me this entire time, hm? Don’t mistake my intentions though, because I am fond of you. All those sweet words, whispered promises, and love I gave you was all real.” The tip of the dagger was against your chin, and the beautiful blonde king peered down at you through his lashes. Raising the fingers of his freehand, he lightly traced his sharp nails over the side of your face. The next words came in a quiet voice, stern and serious, vaguely threatening but also with the promise of sweetness. 
“However, I don’t appreciate the idea of you flying away. Fret not. You’ll be well taken care of, and loved more than any little prince with a crush could love you… You wanted him dead, isn’t that so? Well, we killed him. There is nothing more for you to be afraid of. So now, I want you to tell me about where you come from, why you wanted him dead, and what you wish for. No matter what you desire, I will see to it that you have it so long as you remain by my side permanently. Reintroduce yourself, from the top, my Darling Retainer.”
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monabee-draws · 7 days ago
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Crazy that one of the underlying takeaways from MDZS is that you should be punished for believing what people show you.
Jiang Cheng was never told anything about wwx's actions and repeatedly watched him break all his promises to him and YMJ (even after he, JC, gave up himself and YMJ for wwx, he did not receive the same in return from his own knowledge pool.) Yet, he is very suddenly expected to be remorseful and grateful when Wen Ning reveals the core transfer. The world JC lived in had these truths: WWX isn't helping to rebuild our home, training our disciples. He has become a drunk and is actively undermining the sect and what little authority I've been able to cultivate, which is devastating enough when I am the only young war hero/sect leader excluded from the great sects' sworn brotherhood allyship. When I (JC) try to find out why he's doing this and stop him, he brushes me off and makes light of it. I continue to tolerate it anyway because he's wwx and I love him. Then, instead of putting in the work he should be to save our people he turns around and saves the Wens, at great expense and danger not only to our sect but himself, as one of the only people I still have left. When I tell him he cannot have both he chooses them. I still make sure he knows he's loved and belongs with the Jiang (by bringing our sister to see him before her wedding) even though, by all accounts, he has foresaken us on what feels like a series of whims. Then, he kills our brother in law (he never gives me an explanation or excuse.) Then, when I and everyone he's pissed off confront him, he gets our sister killed, goes crazy, and is torn apart by his own ghosts. Somehow 13 years later after picking up all the pieces he left behind and raising the nephew he orphaned and rebuilding the sect he abandoned (alone) I am simultaneously expected to be remorseful for not being grateful to him all these years for something I never asked him to do or knew about, and which I was actively tricked into and repeatedly lied to about. In the adaptations where I don't immediately fall on my sword and punish myself in the epilogue (seclusion in CQL the donghua) the fanbase determines I am a terrible horrible person for it.
This post is also tangentially about Lan Xichen taking the heat for JGY's actions even in MXTX's writing (abandoned by LWJ at the height of his pain, entering seclusion.)
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yanderes-galore · 27 days ago
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Another self indulgent fic! Yippee!!!
Pale Ailment
Yandere! Awakened! Dark Cacao Cookie Short
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Isolation, Overprotective behavior, Fear of loss, Pre-established relationship, Paranoia, Angst, Dubious relationship.
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Your husband hadn't come back from Beast-Yeast the same since encountering the Beast there.
It all started when you had fallen ill. A white dust had coasted through the snow of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, afflicting many of its citizens. Unfortunately for the king, Dark Cacao...
His betrothed had also come down with the illness.
You had developed a nasty cough that Dark Cacao had noticed when you woke up one morning. Yet as the hours passed, it was said many other citizens had similar conditions. Except... They were quickly turning to flour.
It wasn't long after before you were transferred and isolated from Dark Cacao. The king was only allowed to see you from afar. Yet even at the distance he was at... your complexion was turning paler by the minute.
Around this time Dark Cacao had decided to set off to Beast-Yeast, suspecting one of the Beasts Pure Vanilla spoke of was the cause of the illness. It took a long time to tear himself away from your weakened form.... But he managed to pull away eventually.
Even when he explored Beast-Yeast and came across that Ivory Pagoda, Dark Cacao kept his beloved in mind. Even when he witnessed his soldiers turn to flour in front of him, he thought of you. He needed to get home to you...!
He refused to accept the fact you'd turn to flour, even when Mystic Flour herself tried to tell him flour was a better fate for you.
"Do you not see what your 'affections' will do to them?" The Beast asks coldly before him, seeing him fight her even now.
"You will constrict them, cage them even more than the dough that makes them up, I will set them free... Yet you will treat them like they are to be owned in your kingdom."
"You know nothing, Beast—!" Dark Cacao growls in response, the sword in his hands feeling heavy. "Do not speak of my beloved like you know them—!"
"You are an oblivious and pathetic cookie... Do you think they're happy by your side? Do you think keeping them behind your kingdom's walls will be good for them? You are a fool...."
Dark Cacao tried not to take the Beast's words to heart. He knew that she was saying this to hurt him. Why else would she give him such horrid visions of the world turning to flour...?
Yet... There was some truth to her words that he didn't seem to want to comprehend. Dark Cacao really did keep you in the kingdom since marrying you. He really did limit your freedom to within the snowy walls.
It's dangerous was always his reasoning.
At first it was just licorice monsters. Yet now Dark Cacao had to consider the Beasts that lurked in these unknown lands. Dark Cacao has always been obsessed with protection... with complete and utter security....
But he refuses to see the error of his thinking.
With enough determination and persistence, Dark Cacao managed to confront the Beast who craved his Soul Jam. He managed to awaken his powers, beat the Beast back, and meet with his companions once again. Which meant, if he could see them again...
You should be alive and well... His precious darling....
By the time you were awake and sat up in your bed, there was news that the king was back in the kingdom. It wasn't long before heavy footsteps entered the castle and approached your quarters. You almost didn't recognize him at first...
His appearance made him look like a different man...
His previous behaviors grew worse, however....
"My love... You know I can't lose you...."
His words are uncharacteristically vulnerable. Perhaps the Beast was right in a way. Dark Cacao can't look past his need to keep you out of harm's way...
Even if it makes you unhappy.
Since the day you caught the 'pale ailment', your husband has rarely left your side. He'd stay in your shared bedroom, dark purple eyes scanning your form as though you'd turn to flour before him. The Beast's words echo in his head... saying you'd be happier away from this place.
He clenches his gloved hands, despising the thought. This fortress of chocolate and snow was meant to be your sanctuary. A domain for you both to rule.
You must be happy with him....
You always look at him in concern. Despite him having more control over himself and his new outfit, he still holds onto old habits. If not worse than before.
The Beast's words really have gotten to him....
You always ask for him to take you out of the castle. You wish to greet your subjects, to wander the snowy plains. You want at least a little bit of freedom... The freedom Dark Cacao had given you before you were ill.
Your husband merely shakes his head, muttering about unforeseen threats. He tells you the Beast who made you sick was still out there. He told you he still needs to hunt her down....
Until then, you must be kept in his fortress of solitude. He apologizes, telling you that you'll see the snow of your home up close when the danger passes. He asks for your trust, even when he doesn't deserve it.
"I love you..." He says with a hint of desperation, a need for you to accept him...
"I know...." Is all you can bring yourself to say, knowing his fears are only getting worse.
You agree to his demands every time. He no longer knows if it's out of love or tolerance. He doesn't care right now, either.
When you quietly comply with him, your husband pulls you into his arms. He holds you to his chest as he murmurs promises to you. He promises he'll let you outside again soon... He promises you'll be free again when the Beast is either slain or sealed.
You have no clue when that will be... or if he'll even follow through with it.
Instead, you allow him to hold you close. You allow him to kiss your head and lips, to mutter to himself about how much he adores you. Part of you does love him... the other part yearns to see something other than these blackened halls.
Your freedom wasn't a sacrifice you wanted to make for the sake of your husband. Yet part of you guessed you had no choice when he gave you the offer of betrothal. You love him...
But ever since you got sick, he's gotten worse with his obsession over safety.
You didn't see what he went through... but you can't help your mind from thinking...
You wonder what matters more to him...
Your happiness and the integrity of your marriage...
Or getting revenge because the world threatens your safety and shatters his fantasies of your shared fortress of solitude.
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fairy-writes · 4 months ago
Note
Hii! Can I have a head canons request for Soshiro Hoshina with a fem reader? (Kinda angst)
Reader is a quiet (stubborn) and hardworking recruit but quite distant nor avoid interacting with vice captain Hoshina (but ofc they act professional and follow his orders).
In reality reader was falling for him but didn't want bother him despite they're both in duties not thinks he doesn't have time for a relationship.
Soshiro was also falls for reader but quite hurt avoiding him even he start to get along with them. Would he give up and leave them or he's gonna make reader spill what she felt for him?
OBJECT OF YOUR AFFECTION
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
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Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8
Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Angst to Fluff, Confessions, Use of the Nickname“Sweetheart”
Notes: I hope you like your request!
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Hoshina Soshiro was completely and utterly out of your league. That much was evident in the first moments you met him. 
As a transfer from the First Division, you were used to a certain level of lacksadasicalness from Captain Narumi. It was practically in his DNA. 
But in the Third Division? There was no such thing. And that applied to pretty much every member. You quickly realized you had to step up your game if you wanted to survive here. 
So you approached Vice-Captain Hoshina with a request for training. 
You weren’t on his level, but you knew your way around a sword well enough, so he took your request readily and seriously. 
And it was then that your little crush began to blossom. 
When your crush became a little too much to bear, and you feared it was becoming obvious to him, then the avoiding him started. 
You weren’t necessarily going out of your way to avoid him… No, no, no. That would be even more obvious than if you had stamped your feelings across your forehead. 
But you certainly made it a point to avoid eye contact when he entered the cafeteria or volunteered for missions that would be carried out away from him. 
However, as clever as you thought you were, you should’ve known he was more clever than that. 
The sound of your rank and last name being called made you nearly choke on your mouthful of rice. You look up at the sound of Vice-Captian Hoshina’s voice and meet his gaze. 
“Meet me in my office, please.” He said curtly, and you nodded hastily as he spun on a heel and left the cafeteria. 
A myriad of whispers erupt then, theorizing what he could possibly want with you. And you have to tune them out or else you’re just going to work yourself up into a frenzy.
So, you play the good little soldier and follow him to the large doors that hide his office. It had been a recent addition to the Tachikawa base after the kaiju attack. He and Captain Ashiro got almost identical offices at the base, something you were sure Hoshina was delighted about. 
Except… Why did the vice-captain want to speak with you? 
You had no clue. 
A flinch jolts your body a few more steps into his office as the double doors shut with a resounding “bang,” effectively cutting off your sanctuary that was the rest of the base. The vice-captain steeples his fingers together as he sits behind the large desk currently covered in paperwork.
“Do you have any idea why I’ve called you here, Officer?” He asks, and you shake your head as you sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. 
“No, sir. Have I done something wrong?” You ask, and he mulls it over, tilting his head this way and that as a hum escapes his lips. 
It wasn’t helping your anxiety at all. Not one bit. 
“No. I just had a question.” He said eventually, and your heart thunders in your chest. Was he going to ask you to resign as an officer?
“A question, sir?” You ask hesitantly, and he leans back in his seat. 
“Have I done something to offend you?” Hoshina asks, and you sputter in surprise.
Where had that thought come from?!
At your surprise, the vice-captain elaborates. 
“You have been avoiding me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He says slyly, and you have to stop yourself from hitting your own forehead with the heel of your hand. Because, of course, he’d notice! Anything else would be easy!
“I—I was hoping you wouldn’t notice…” You say lamely, and he chuckles. The sound nearly sends your heart into cardiac arrest. 
You had always liked his laugh.
“I’ve grown… Rather fond of you… So, of course, I’d notice.” His tone is cheeky like a schoolboy knowing something he shouldn’t. You feel your ears burn and stare down at your clasped hands. 
On the inside, your mind is reeling. 
“Fond of me, sir?” You inquire dumbly, staring stupidly at your hands and pointedly avoiding his gaze. A hand tips your chin up until you’re looking into his eyes. When had he moved?!
“I’m saying I like you, sweetheart. I was hoping you liked me too, but it seems I was mistaken—”
“No!” You blurt out quickly, and he recoils slightly. 
It took all of two seconds for you to realize that you technically rejected him and the words came tumbling out. 
“I mean—I do like you! I really do! I thought you just had no interest in a relationship! So, I avoided saying anything! And—”
“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe. You’re gonna turn blue at this rate.” Hoshina teased, and your mouth shut with an audible ‘click.’ 
He liked you…
The object of your affection actually liked you!
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thought--bubble · 4 months ago
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Forgive Me
OsferthX Damsel Reader
Word Count: 1,671
For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)
December 16th - fireplace and face fucking (Probably just going to stay a day behind. lmao)
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Smuffmas Masterlist
Osferth Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners by @arcielee
Warnings: Mentions of violence, arranged marriage, Oral Male receiving (obvs), Face fucking (Obvs)
“Take her and go!” Uhtred shoves Osferth toward you, the clanking of swords and the smell of blood swirling around you in flashes.
You were not built for this.
“Come,  lady!” Osferth wraps his hand around yours, tugging you toward the woods. One hand is in yours, and the other is holding a sword you weren't quite sure he knew how to use.
“The monk?! They left me with the monk?” You squeeze his hand tighter. You had nothing against Osferth; you just enjoyed life and all of its infinite mysteries, and to that end, you would have preferred to be guarded by Sihtric or Finan.
Of all the moments in your life thus far where being a woman was inconvenient, this had to be right at the top of the list: running through the muddy woods in a flowing gown and shoes that were more like slippers.
This morning, the outfit seemed like a good idea. You were being transferred from your home to that of your betrothed, a marriage that was important for both the Saxons and Scots. So, Uhtred and his friends were tasked with taking you there.
The travels had been simple thus far. You rode your horse surrounded by the men, with Finan being the only one who would talk to you. Uhtred and Sihtric were at the front, making strategic plans to get you there as quickly as possible, and Osferth trailed behind, blushing furiously anytime you looked back to make sure he was still with you.
All that changed quickly when you were ambushed by what you believed were Danes. So instead, you are running - running as fast as your legs will carry you, holding hands with the shy monk.
“Where do we go?” you ask him, panic rising in your chest. Surely he has a plan.
“Um... forward!” he huffs, jerking your arm along behind him. “We are not far from a village. We were to stop there to rest overnight.”
You nod, panting heavily, willing your legs to continue. Just keep going. Just keep moving. He'll keep you alive, right?
When he feels like you've made it far enough away from the fray, he finally relents, letting go of your hand and leaning against a tree to pant, taking in large gulps of air.
You follow suit but fall to your knees. “I am not sure I can continue,” you whimper, each breath hurting your lungs.
“I will carry you if I must, but if I am being honest, lady, I do not wish to,” he continues to pant, looking at you pleadingly.
You stand back up, still breathing heavily but able to start moving again. “Are you insinuating that I am too heavy to carry?”
His face reddens, and he immediately starts to stutter. “Wha? No! No! No, lady, that is not at all-”
“I am teasing you, Osferth,” you sigh with a big smile on your face, watching a flustered Osferth attempt to regain his composure.
“Forward? I believe that is what you said?” You start to walk, leaving Osferth confused and staring behind you before he leaps into action. It only takes his long legs two strides to catch up to you, and you both fall into a comfortable silence as you walk toward your destination.
When you finally reach the small village, you feel relieved and exhausted. You see Osferth speaking animatedly with the innkeeper but stand far enough away that you can't hear the exact conversation. However, from the immensely annoyed face of the innkeeper and the desperate expression on Osferth, you can surmise it isn't good.
When Osferth returns to you, he stares steadily at the ground. “Lady, follow me.”
You follow him quietly up the stairs but can't help but laugh. “Why do you look as if you are walking to the gallows?”
“Please forgive me, but I did not have enough for two rooms.” He reaches the room and pushes open the door. “We will have to share until the others join us.”
“And sharing with me, is that what has you looking so down?” You walk past him into the room and flop down on the bed. It isn't ladylike, but you're so exhausted you don't care.
“Yes,” he states matter-of-factly. You lift your head and raise an eyebrow at him.
“I see.” An awkward silence claims the room, and after a few minutes tick by, Osferth seems to have understood your sentiment.
“Lady, I did not mean that sharing with you is... umm... uhhh... unpleasant by any means.” He twiddles his thumbs in his robes, his eyes moving back and forth furiously as he tries to say the right thing.
You know exactly what he meant, but it is fun to see him squirm nonetheless. “Just that it is... umm... improper?” he shrugs.
“Do you think that if left alone in this room with you, I will suddenly become ravenous for you?” You sit up. “Shedding my clothes and pouncing on you, handing my purity over to you just like that?”
Osferth's eyes go wide, and he mumbles what should be words but instead produces an assortment of primitive sounds before he gives up.
“I will sleep on the floor. By the fire,” he turns quickly, putting his back to you and kindling the fireplace, muttering to himself—no doubt chastising himself for his poor choice of words.
Once the fire is lit, he lays down flat on the hard floor, his hands under his head, and squeezes his eyes tightly closed.
“Would you like a blanket?”
“No.”
“A pillow, perhaps?”
“No.”
“A-” He cuts you off.
“If it is all the same to you, Lady, I feel we should sleep.”
You nod and lay back. “Of course.”
The room goes quiet again, the crackling of the fireplace the only perceivable sound.
Your heart beats loudly in your chest. Each thump of the stubborn muscle pushes sleep further and further away.
You get out of bed and pad your way over to Osferth, who is still lying on the ground, eyes closed.
“I think you were right, Osferth.” His eyes fly open, and he looks up at you, standing over him.
“Right?” He chokes out, confusion etched across his beautiful features.
“Being in this room with you...” You kneel down and push his legs apart, settling between them. “I think I may have suddenly become ravenous for you.” You push up his robes to his beltline. You know exactly what you want to do to him. You've never done it, of course, but you've heard the other ladies talking about it. It can't be that hard.
You make quick work of the laces that hold his breeches closed and tug them down gently.
“Lady! What are you doing?” He looks down at you, slightly panicked, but makes no move to stop you.
“I owe you my life, do I not?” You cup his cock over his breeches, feeling him tighten underneath.
“Lady, you do not owe me this,” Osferth pants, unable to hide the desire in his voice.
“What if I want to?” You start to slide his breeches down his legs slowly until they reach his thighs, his rapidly hardening cock springing free.
His cock stands thick and heavy, the glistening tip betraying his arousal. Unsure how to proceed, you take him into your hand and begin to stroke slowly and softly.
Osferth takes a shuddering breath, his hips undulating with each movement. He curls his hands at his sides, fingernails digging slightly into the floorboards.
“Lady, I-” he grunts as you increase the tempo of your strokes, panting at his every reaction.
He bites his bottom lip, stifling a moan, sweat beading on his brow as he uses every ounce of strength he possesses to keep his hands to himself.
You lean forward and take the weeping head of his cock into your mouth, the salty taste bursting across your taste buds.
Osferth's head falls back in a loud groan as you bob your head along his shaft the way you believe it is supposed to be done, based on what you heard from the other ladies.
You can see Osferth's stomach muscles clench on his lower abdomen, his fingers now clawing at the floorboards beneath him.
As you slide your mouth up and down his cock in a slow, sensual motion, he gasps.
“I apologize, my lady,” he pants suddenly. As soon as you go to lift your head to see what he means, his hands tangle in your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts up into your face like a man starved.
He grunts loudly, nearly yanking your hair from your head, the tip of his cock battering the back of your throat.
Osferth pushes his breeches down to his ankles, kicking them off one leg.
“Almost done, promise,” he groans, lifting his knees, spreading his legs around you, pushing the back of your head, causing your nose to be buried among the light curls there. You sputter and gag as he groans, his grip in your hair tightening as he thrusts his hips unabated. A copious amount of your drool puddles on his balls and even the wooden floor beneath him as his thrusts grow quicker, plowing through the entrance to your throat like a ramrod.
Osferth snarls like a dog as you gag and grip at his thighs, trying to ground yourself.
“AHHHH! Forgive me!” He stills, his entire body tense before he explodes in your mouth, the foreign sensation making you somehow swallow and gag at the same time.
He falls back against the floor, releasing your head and panting harshly, his hand resting on his stomach.
You sit up, your head dizzy and your face covered in a mix of your saliva and his release.
“That was not what the ladies described,” you finally huff out, still looking at Osferth in a daze.
“This is why I ask for my daily penance,  lady,” he pants between labored breaths, a smile on his face.
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dragonmonstermilk · 8 months ago
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Caught by the big bad wolf
Charcaters: Hoolay x guard!Reader
tw: (implied) fem!reader, (very much) size difference, degrading and praising, knot, pet names (human), (implied) semi-public sex, Hoolay is chained up, (kinda) corruption kink, belly bulge, (lot of) porn with plot, Hoolay's past (mentions of violence, abuse and death), manipulation, (slightly) dubcon, (if you squint) overstimulation, squirt
OK....idk if any of y'all have played the new patch of honkai:star rail but there are these new enemies (Borisins) who are werewolf and they are so hot, esp Hoolay (HE SO DAMN BIG SO..HOW COULDN'T I WRITE ABOUT HIM) !!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:・゚
It passed a week since you were transferred to patrol the lower level of the Shackiling Prison. To be honest you were scared, and you had all the right to be it. The last floor was very dangerous, not because it was so dark you could barely see your shadow, even if there where a few lamps scattered here and there on the wall. You were scared because locked up there are the most dangerous individuals who committed serious crimes. These were forced to be imprisoned for all eternity while being muzzled, chained up, tortured and, if the sins they committed where more than gravious to be where they where, they would be starved. Of course, whoever received this punishment would be dead in a few weeks. Or, at least, that's what the superiors said to the novice guards.
As you reached down, taking a bit of time, you finally arrived. Before starting to patrol you take a deep breath, clutching your weapon. Steps echoed through the big hallways, locking everywhere to make sure that everything was good. You arrived at the most perilous zone: the right side of the cells. Here there was only a monster, the most dangerous in all Xianzhou, Hoolay. Your general advised you to be very careful around him, since he was quite hungry from all of the decades who passed without eating.
You reminisce the story of Hoolay, told you and to your fellow companions from your general. Hoolay is an abomination of Abundace and Lord of Borisins. He was held accountable for numerous acts of invasions, associated war crimes, and for long-term enslavement of Foxians and utilizing their blood for alchemical purposes. Hoolay, after being sentenced was transferred to the Shackiling Prison. The terms of his imprisonment was that he was to be subjected to the punishment of the Forest of Swords and never be pardoned. While the punishment was meant to be fatal and Hoolay was not given any food, he was somehow able to survive for hundreds of years without sustenance while the wounds inflicted by the Forest of Swords would simply restore themselves.
You take a few big breaths before opening the cell and going inside.There he is. Luckily he's all chained up, but better to keep a safe distance. As you try to keep yourself as far away as possible you look at Hoolay, who didn't seem to have noticed your presence. As a borisin, Hoolay is broad and lean, with powerful jaws and neck muscles. He has well-developed canine teeth, beast-like ears on top of his heads, and sharp claws on his hands and feet. Seeying his stance you are affascinated and intrigued. You squeal in surpirese as a sudden low voice speaks to you.
"Are you new here, human?" the chains jingles as Hoolay looks down at you. His very big figure towering over your much smaller one.
"Y-yes, but why would you ask" your voice trembling as you fear he could snap free from the chains (totally impossible, but you never know, no?).
Hoolay scoffs. His chains moving again.
"Come closer, human" his deep voice makes you feel something inside. Not wanting to make him angry than he could be possibly be, you do as he says, still being some metres away from him. He scoffs again, this time almost as if he is satisfied and amused. "Are you that afraid of me, human?" his voice roaring in the big cell. What could you answer him? Of course you were scared of him! He's so big, towering all over you. He could kill you just with his hand!
Hoolay didn't really expect an answer for you, but something was moving inside his head. He smirked, the scarce lighting reveling his big and sharp teeths. "Human" Hoolay stops before continuing "You don't need to be afraid of me. Come closer and I'll shall answer every question you have for me". You were confused. Why some big prisoner monster would ask you to make him some questions?
You ponder for a few moments. Hoolay waiting for an answer. "I don't want to ask you any questions", your tone firm and, again, Hoolay smirks. Suddenly a puppy like cry, like someone stepped on a puppy's tail. You look at Hoolay, panicked.
"Are you alright?! What happened?" you try to check if something is gone into his leg paws, but you could barely see. As panicked as you are, Hoolay smirks again, everything going according to his plan. "My hand! My hand hurt!" he cries out again, holding back a laugh. You are so naive.
You nod, and mumbling a few sorries you climb up is toned body, feeling his muscles under you. You slighty blush and brush off whatever you feeling with a coff. As you're on Hoolay biceps, he licks his face, your good smell making him hard, as well as the view of your back. You reach for the hanging chain, loosen it enough to free Hoolay's hand. As soon as his hand is free he laughs. Before you could even ask, he takes you in his hand, gently squeezing you.
"W-what" a puzzle look on your face.
"Foolish human. How could you believe that me, Hoolay Lord of Borisins, could get easily hurt?" his voice echoing in the cell, gently squeezing your tiny body. "You don't imagine how I'm so hungry"
His tone was lower than before and you where squirming in his hand as every now and then he squeezed your little body. You wanted to scream but your voice was blocked in your throat. Tears were forming in your eyes as you thought that was your end. What didn't you expect tho was that Hoolay wasn't hungry for food, but he was hungry for sex. It's been decades since he had a mate and he was so pent up that your scent drove him crazy.
With one of his long and sharp claws, he cut off your clothes. His big face sniffing your body. He groaned and opened his hand. His longue and big tongue licking all over you and then arriving at your sensitive spot. You arched your back, your body trembling from the pleasure he was giving you. "N-no, please" you cried out as his tongue was already overstimulating you. What made you come so soon was that he sucked your little bud mixing it with his tongue. His groans? Making so many vibrations that had you coming on him quickly.
"You taste so good, human. I can't wait to fuck you with my cock and knot you. You're going to be my mate, forever"
"Forever?!" You were shocked. A borisin, the LORD of borising wanting YOU to be his mate?! That is crazy, that's absolutely no sense. You pinch yourself a dew times, believing you are dreaming. Hoolay chuckled.
"Poor little human, can't believe I'm serious? Then I'll show it right now". His laugh echoed in the cell, the weak lighting making in evidence the most dangerous traits of him. As Hoolay put you on his (enourmous) cock you squealed as you clenched. Hoolay looked down at you, amused by every reaction you had. Without thinking you began to grind your hips on him, muffling your moans. You could feel his leaky tip under you, how his cock throbbed more and more as you moved your hips. "That's it, yes", Hoolay groaned as his large paw grabbed your hips, moving you faster. "What a greedy human you are". You whined at his words as you came on him for the second time. But you wanted more, even if you're were feeling all dizzy and overstimulated but your hole wanted more, wanted to feel that enormous cock inside you.
You looked up at Hoolay with puppy eyes, that smirk reappiring once again in his face. No words needed that Hoolay entered your hole, the stretch made your hips jerks away from his but, keeping his hand on you, he made you come back to his cock. The pain of stretch was giving you pleasure and your brain was completely turned off as you felt him inside you, forming a visible belly bulge. Hoolay sighed of relief, finally his cock could feel some warm walls after decades of not touching it and not having someone to help him with his heat.
"Such a good human" he groaned as his hips move forth and back, your walls sucking him deeper and deeper as you moaned like the little slut you are. "Good, taking my big cock so good for your lord" you panted and whined while nodding, your hand moving on the belly bulge. As Hoolay used his hand to stimulate more your already sensitive area, you felt a strange sensation, one you never proved even while masturbating. "A-ah, nhhgg, Hoolay! Cumming, I'm cumming!". Squirt gushed all over you and Hoolay. As you squirted you felt something stretching you even more.
"Be good a good slutty human and take my knot".
It was so big! You couldn't help but cream around his cock, your back arching as his seed spurted inside you, making your belly all swollen. The pleasure and pain mixed together so good that for a moment you saw black before coming to your senses. At that time, Hoolay was still inside you, waiting for his knot to be gone (that would take a while, though). You didn't heard anything from him so you just assumed he fell asleep. Well, certainly you would have come more often to visit Hoolay and keep him company.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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rabbitwitch2poems · 2 months ago
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Part 6 based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7
I'm going to keep posting on here as well as AO3, but if y'all think a preview plus a link may be better let me know ^^
  It was a cave... A wet, echoey cave with huge platforms filled with tech and random things Danny's baby mind just didn't have the processing power to deal with. Overwhelming was an understatement to what the child was feeling. But hey, at least there was a cool dinosaur and a giant penny...and a creepy puppet in the back that looked like a mobster... (Danny looked a little closer and noticed some ectoplasm glowing from within but ignored it; that was future Danny's problem)        
 
     "Father, why have you returned so early with Superman, Wonder Woman, and a baby in tow?" The voice was hard to pinpoint for Danny seeing as the giant cave made all noises echo outwards. Thankfully the source of the voice made its presents known by the squeaking of a chair by the giant computer (Danny for a moment wondered why a hero with all the technology batman had would have a squeaky chair, he had to figure it was cause of the cave)          
 
    "I really hope you didn't have another fling" the small boy in a red and black costume said hopping down from the squeaky chair. Whoever this boy was, danger seemed to follow him. This was Danny's first impression based on two things,
1. the kid in a mask had a large sword and what looked to Danny like a thousands knives all over his person.
2. the amount of ectoplasm that this kid was expelling could feed an entire army of ghosts.      
 
     Also, what did he mean by fling? Did this man have more kids? Did he think he was going to adopt Danny? Well he wouldn't allow that! Sure the man seemed like he would make a decent father (he was intelligent, knew what he was doing, and focused on helping people so Danny assumed that transferred towards parentage as well) but if he had to choose a father he would rather Superman be his dad and he would fight anyone who tried to take him away from momma!
 
      "And now the child's eyes are glowing like the Lazarus pits grandfather watches over," this was said so bluntly that it took a few seconds for Danny to even realize all eyes were on him. He tried his best to play it off by smiling wide but he had forgotten how his teeth get when his ghostly attributes take over only causing his mother's frown to deepin. Danny frowned "sowwy momma, will exwain as bewst I can." With a deep breath and a kiss on the childs forehead his mother nodded.       
 
     The time has come for Danny to tell his mother what exactly was going on. He started with the basic of how he chose this world to be in, how he admired the three immensely and thanks to Clockwork (who he explained was basically time itself given a form) he was able to be reborn into this world, though even he didn't understand how or why he was in his core and in the possession of Luthor. He told them how Clockwork watches over the timelines within the multiverse and how he makes sure no deviations that could cause either that universe or the entire multiverse to unravel.   
 
   "So...he is kronos?" His mother asked causing Danny to pause for a second, "huh...kindwa? Nevew awskd... Wait dwos dat mean kwolcwork is my..." His mother confirmed with a nod, "great grandfather, yes my little one; seeing as my mother is Athena." Danny jaw dropped at that, oh he was so going to call CW gramps as soon as he could. Somewhere within the ghost realm CW shivered and turned to look at his mirror he used to check on Danny glaring at it.      
 
    Superman was in full attention to the little child's words while Batman was focusing both on the words and on quickly typing things into his small wrist computer to send to the main computer for later; only briefly stopping to ask questions. "So this realm you come from connects all worlds and multiverse together?" He asked and Danny nodded in answer, "baswiclly." Batman nodded at Danny, his emotions were starting to show more (it seems he allows himself to show emotions more when he is relaxed; as far as Danny could tell) curiosity and some kind of obsession floated around the man like tiny bats of different colours... One of them looked like a bat wearing a disco costume which puzzled the young boy.   
 
     More and more questions were asked, mainly about the ghost realm and how it worked which Danny couldn't really tell them in detail cause even he didn't know. They asked him if he had a name beyond what wonder woman had given him and he confirmed that Danny was his name,   "Last name?," batman asked bluntly, Danny pointed at his mother "hew wast name," it was an obvious answer to Daniel but the smiles on everyone's faces (even batman was slightly smiling though Danny could tell from his emotions floating around he was genuinely pleased) his mother hugged him close and kissed the top of his head causing the child to giggle happily.     
 
   Then came the tough questions, of where he used to live, he didn't remember much still, he remembered a crazy rich guy chasing him and wanting him to be his son, (this caused everyone including the child in red and black to laugh hysterically as Batman scrunched in on himself only to be hugged by superman, calming him down), he remembered a clone of himself that the rich man made to replace him (this caused Superman's emotions to flare with sadness and understanding which made Danny think he had an experience similar to him). They asked if that clone would be a problem and he shook his head, "she twavels a wot and hewps othwers," superman seemed to calm at his words confirming Danny's suspicions.  
 
      "Constantine called you  quote "your highness" what did he mean by that?" Danny sighed, he knew that question was going to come sooner or later. So he explained, he explained how the ghost zone had a rule of battle, where one owns what their opponent had upon defeat and how the last king of the realms, who basically kept order in the entire multiverse, was a tyrannical monster who was sealed away only to be brought back by worshippers. He explained the fight that almost killed him, that through some way and will he kept fighting (he knew it was to protect peopled he cared for, he just couldn't remember who, it was starting to make him slightly mad but he figured if they needed to be remembered they will) and eventually bested the king, sealing him away forever.      
 
     Superman and his momma where trying to absorb all the info but Batman seemed to already figured everything out, "so your people just let you come here?," the man asked and Danny paused thinking how to respond. " Well, yes and no,  vey wanted me to take the trone immedwiantly bwut CW swaid dis was fow da bwest, so fwostbit took ovew as my we...veasion?" His mother patted his head and corrected him "liaison," and Danny looked up at his mother pointing at her with a smile, "what momma swaid."       
 
     After all the questions we're finally asked momma let Danny down to explore, reminding him to be careful of the edges of the platform, "even if you can fly I'd rather you not risk it okay little one? Now go with Damian and let him show you around while I and my friends discuss everything." Danny nodded and turned around slowly marching up to the larger kid. Damian, the kid who had a bird symbol on the right side of his  chest and a red hoodie, looked down at Danny with apprehension, Danny looked at Damian, wearing a cute superman onesie his momma got him, with unblinking, semi glowing eyes and smiled impossibly wide at him.        
 
     The dinosaur was even cooler up close! It looked like one out of the movies and it was robotic. Danny could see some bent parts and wires sticking out of the joints, he wondered if the Batman one day would let him repair it, It would make a great security device, could even make it scare people in the shadows like the hero himself.
 
     The penny was bigger than Danny expected it to be and gave him an off feeling; like it was waiting for him to turn his back so the giant piece of metal could flatten him like a cartoon. Danny stayed away from the mobster puppet, but just over to the side of it were broken apart metal teeth and a strange looking ball with a strange green liquid in it. It wasn't ectoplasm, that Danny was sure; but it was eerie looking.    
 
    The entire time the young child was looking with awe at all the cave had to offer, Damian was watching him (it creeped Danny out) his emotions were as hidden as his father's, but every so often light waves of curiosity and suspicion would make it's way out. After looking at a hat that looked like it came directly out of Alice in wonderland Danny got annoyed at the quiet kid,     
 
   "Why are yew stawing at me?" Danny finally asked staring up at the slightly taller boy his eyes knitted together. The hooded kid looked down at him, "you feel like my grandfather and suddenly appear with one of fathers friends, I do not trust you for now and feel you shouldn't be allowed here so I am keeping an eye on you to make sure you to not plant anything." Danny was confused by every word beyond not trusting him. He huffed, "imma be a hewo like momma! I wuldt dawe to pwant things, even if I cwould thews no diwt to pwant them!" Danny was slightly floating up glaring back at Damian's scowl before being shocked back by a laugh.      
 
   "You remind me of Jon, I will trust you, for now," the red hooded child responded after finishing his laugh. Danny was starting to suspect that anyone related to the batman was as batty (heh pun) as the man was. This suspicion was confirmed when he heard a squeal coming from the elevator located near where his momma and her friends were talking.       
 
  "Superman you had another kid! And didn't tell me!" A girl wearing a purple hoodie (Danny began wondering if everyone here wore hoodies but then figured they were in a cave, was probably a smart thing to do) and basic jeans was quickly walking up to him before scooping him up from the air. "He is such a cutie pie! Hello there small child, I'm Stephanie and I'll be your honorary auntie ok?"       
 
     Danny didn't know how to react, on one hand the emotions of this woman where of compassion and kindness and love. On the other hand a random stranger was holding him and pinching his cheek. Naturally Danny whined, "stawwwwp." Funny enough the person did stop, mainly because another person grabbed her hand. He expected it to be momma or even superman but instead it was another girl who was wearing a black mask shaped like a bat like batman, but with the mouth piece covered with leather lazily stitched over.      
 
   The woman who grabbed Stephanie's hand made a few hand signals Danny didn't understand before walking back. Waves of embarrassment and sadness came from the purple woman holding him; what was her name again? Stephanie? Danny was sure that's what she called herself. "Sorry, I tend to go overboard, thank you Cassie." Stephanie put Danny down and turned to the adults, all of whom had made their way over.     
 
     Danny's mother scooped him up and hugged him, "we will need to work on your freeze instinct but you kept calm, very good my little warrior," she kissed the top of his head as Damian nodded from behind everyone in agreement. Stephanie looked on with wide eyes, "ohhh he's your kid WW? Sorry for being so... Quick to judge..just the onesie... and the floating..." The girl was stopped with a wave of Diana's hand and a small smile, "it's ok, it was a natural conclusion to come to," she responded quelling Stephanie's worry, "though touch him again without his consent and you will be on the floor," and the worry was back again, Danny sighed, his mother could be a tad overprotective, but then again he was a baby so that was understandable.     
 
    To quench his mother rising anger he hugged her neck, "it okay momma, just supwized." That thankfully seemed to help as love radiated from his mother and the worry stopped from Stephanie, replaced by adoration from the display of affection.    
 
   The reving of an engine turned everyone's gaze to the red motorcycle currently parking next to the batmobile as a man wearing a large red helmet got off. Danny's eyes were wide, if the kid in the hoodie had ecto oozing out of him for an army this man was exploding with the stuff and it felt like it was rotting! He wiggled out of his mother's arms and ran up to the man patting his leg, "yew, yew fiwed with bad ecto, I hewp." The man with the helmet looked down at him, one of the eyebrows of the helmet raising (Danny had no time for confusion on how that could work) and crouched down and booped his nose before looking at the adults staring on with their jaws dropped.    
 
    "Who's the brat and what does he mean by bad ecto?," the man said causing Danny to pout and punch him (it actually hurt red a little which shocked him but he made sure not to show it) "not a bwat! Bad ecto from ghost wealm, wotten gween, wepwace!" Danny emphasized this by patting the mans chest and pushing some clean ecto into him. The reaction from hood was not what Danny expected, he was hoping for calmness, mabey joy, or even shock. He did not expect the man in the helmet to fall to his knees and vomit.       
 
     The three main heros acted instantly,  Batman ran over to the mans side expertly taking the helmet off. Superman was gone in a second and by the next had an old butler with water and a box with a plus symbol on it. His mother scooped him up and looked at him with furrowed brows, "Danny Prince you will explain right now what you just did." He had never seen his mom's anger pointed to himself before, it scared him and the child started to cry,  
 
       "I...I ju...juwst w...was hewping, hewmet man had b..bad ecto, ghost enewgy, I wepwace wif good ecto, did nowt get aww, shouwd feew bettew soon."         
 
       His momma patted his back holding him close and humming a tune, "there, there, little one, thank you for explaining, but know now not to do so without asking first, all actions have consequences, what was meant to be good caused a mess to need to be cleaned up, now once red hood feels better you will apologize and we will head upstairs to Bruce's home and have a moment to relax... I think we all need it"
 
*********
 
    Jason's head hurt and he felt like he just had fourth degree burns quenched with water from a glacier mixed with electricity; overall not how he expect his day to end, that was for certain. It had been an overall annoying day to begin with, first he wakes up early from a nightmare about that damn clown only to find out his safe house was out of cereal and coffee.     
 
   His afternoon was  decent, he stopped by some of the non profits he kept safe from bandits and assholes to check if all was going well and to donate some cash (which he may or may not have gotten from a drug den he busted up for dealing to kids) and was then off to the gym where he worked out for a few hours.     
 
     Wasn't till late into his nightly activities that shit went sideways, first black masks goons thought it would be a good idea to try and kidnap some homeless kids on his alley. Then a new crime boss tried taking over his territory so obviously Jason had to hunt him down and take out his goons. And now he is kneeling on a metal platform, dizzy as fuck, his skin both burning and freezing, and his stomach doing more flips than Dick during training.      
 
     When the world finally wasn't upside down he was alone with Alfred holding a glass cup of fizzing water.   "Its ginger ale master Todd, young Daniel recommended it to help with the... 'ecto sickness' as the young one calls it. Apparently whatever helped bring you back to us caused something to stick around."
 
     Jason drank the beverage with gusto as he slowly stood up. Making sure he wouldn't faceplant getting up was dear Alfred by his side. "do you need a moment to yourself? Everyone else will be waiting for you at the dining room area," Jason gave a short nod as he walked over to the batcomputer and sat down heavily, -man Bruce has to get a new chair- he thought to himself as he tried to make sense of whatever the fuck just happened.  
 
**********
 
     Danny had to admit, the house was far better than the cave below it. It was huuuge! A mansion to be certain, one that Danny was sure that if he had a chance to explore; would probably take him days to see it all. Currently they were in the dining room, a giant area with ornate carvings along the corners of the ceiling and a giant chandelier situated above the very long table currently filled with six inhabitants.   
 
     His mother had just finished a long lecture to him about asking before doing anything to anyone for any reason (unless of course they were super villains then all was fair game which caused Danny's prankster of a mind to be riddled with ideas) and the butler (who Danny learned was named Alfred) had just put down the last plate of dinner. Danny was nonchalantly eating a rib, bone and all, when the man he helped walked in.    
 
    He stopped and took in the sight, everyone was watching Danny with worry (besides his mother she had gotten use to this long ago) and coughed , "so .....what's the deal with the kid?" Everyone's head swiveled to look at the man as well as Danny; who stopped mid bite. Bruce gestured to a seat and explained what was going on as Jason went to sit down. "Danny here is a being from a different reality, one that connects all realities, after events that happened to him he chose this world to start a new in. Diana found him as a crystal and when he appeared as a baby decided to become his mother and take care of him"      
 
    Jason looked at Bruce, his eyebrow raised and a snort exiting his being, "well...at least he isn't another one of your forgotten children I suppose, we will have a deeper chat about what it is he did to me, for now I'm hungry and tired." Everyone around him nodded as they all went back to eating.     
 
    After the dinner was finished Danny got to explore the mansion, with supervision of course, red hood took up the task at hand not knowing how hard it would be. Within the first few minutes Danny was alone wandering giant halls filled with paintings and suits of armor. It honestly reminded him a bit of the palace in the ghost zone just less...colourful.       
 
     This mansion had pretty much everything, giant gym in the basement, theater in a side room that could be it's own house, even a room for playing bowling! Daniel realized rich people were a little weird when he entered a room covered in animal heads (a relic long since abandoned by Bruce and family it's still well kept and dusted regularly by Alfred); Danny didn't like that room and so moved on.    Honestly this place has everything a person could need to live a secret life which Daniel guessed was accurate seeing as who's house it was.
 
     Only thing missing was a arca... -holy crap they have an arcade!- Daniel thought to himself and it was huge! It had a vr setup with moving floor, arcade machines of old and new types, and DDR! Daniel was so preoccupied staring at all the machines he didn't hear the man come up to him and screeched when a hand touched his shoulder. Turning around he saw a large man with short black hair that looked like it took hours to get to look right.
 
     "Whoops! Sorry little guy, I guessed you would have gotten mesmerized by this place, Stephanie just loves her games and bruce loves indulging us sometimes," the man said, worry emanating off the man calming Danny slightly (but man, if he wasn't use to having his heart stop as a ghost he would have had a heart attack!)
 
     Slowly he breathed in, his mother taught him some techniques after a hectic tantrum over a toy. "Deep breath in, hold, slowly out" she would say, repeating it like a mantra to calm him down.  The man saw Danny breath deeply and cocked his head, "ya know...for someone who is barely a toddler you are very intelligent young man," Daniel giggled at that and the man smiled, "there we go all calm? Okay well I'm Tim, one of Bruce's kids it's nice to meet you."
 
     Tim gently ruffled the toddlers head, "let's get you back to the adults ok? They are a little worried about you...cept Diana but that's just her normal state of being," Tim stated and Danny nodded, "momma best wawwior." Daniel giggled at the man who picked him up with wide eyes.
*******
       It had been a fun day in Danny's opinion, he got to go to space, met momma's friends, answer some questions, and see a giant house that a man dressed as a bat lived in; Overall a good day. Sure he had to deal with his mom lecturing him again and yeah he felt embarrassed that he got caught, but hey for someone only turning one in a couple days he has had a lot of fun. He was sure he had made the right decision in living here. 
       After dinner his other tucked him into bed and read him a story about a boy who was the child of a god (his mother chuckled as she read it). After finishing the chapter and putting the book back Diana sat on the edge of Danny's bed and petted his head,
 
    "know this little one, no matter your situation , no matter your past, you are my ward, my child, I love you and will always be there for you, anyone who dares to harm you will answer to me."
 
     Daniel smiled wide, tears in his eyes as he held his mother close a warm spreading from both. Slowly the two separated, his mother tucking him back in and slowly  exiting leaving the door open just a crack after turning off the light. Danny slowly drifted away to dreams of his new life to come. 
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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago
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ok I need elaboration on pretty much all of those bankais that you haven't already talked about but for now i'm probably most curious about ichigo and hanataro? please, a measly few crumbs of context
The short version of Ichigo's sword situation is that he is D'artanigan to Zangetsu's Three displaced-during-the-fuckery-surrounding-his-parent's-meet-cute-slash-manslaughter-thing Musketeers. We got his dad's half-starved family Zanpakuto, The Family Ghost from his Mom's side, and a guy made in an evil instapot that wandered in here on accident and precipitated the whole enfuckening. They are untied in their goal of "Keep Ichigo Alive" but unfortunately they also have a collective IQ of Negative Four.
Reader: Gee Ichigo, why does the author let you have THREE Zanpakuto spirits?
Ichigo: That's nothing! Orihime has SIX!
Ichigo and Orihime's nonsense is connected to how The Almighty operates:)
Meanwhile, short summaries of Unohana and Byakuya's Bankai under the cut:
Unohana:
Minazuki is a sword primarily about the manipulation of flesh- healing injury, making better fighters by pushing the flesh to it's limits- This is a spirit that is distinctly VISCERAL in nature. It has mass. It has a very distinct body.
So it follows that, in order to supply injured patients with blood and drugs and new flesh and everything else, Minazuki is giving up some of her Mass. Consequently, the Stingray form of Minazuki is the SECOND one- she cannot create her elixirs and make new flesh from nothing. First she must FEED.
Which is why Minazuki's liquid format is acidic blood that devours anything organic. It's why Kenpachi!Unohana's bloodthirst was so bloodthirsty: she was literally starving for biomass to complete her sword's two forms and finally put her Soul in Balance.
In the fic, Ukitake is one of a handful of people old enough to remember "Yachiru" Unohana, and until Zaraki's arrival, probably the closest to understanding her. That Unohana and Retsu both understand the horrors of the flesh he lives with every day more intimately than anyone else in his life, and it's the basis of an almost sacred friendship between them. He knows perfectly well where the emergency transfusions and drugs she creates come from, and they have a standing agreement that if he predeceases her, she is to feed his body to Minazuki so he can pay forward at least some of the debt given to him.
He will not be the first of Unohana's friends that have been willingly devoured by her sword.
Byakuya:
Senbonzakura has been with the Kuchiki family for generations, passed from one head of the clan to the next in a sacred ritual that allows the Zanpakuto to bond to its new weilders and grant them the power accumulated with generations.
But for course, everything has it's cost.
Byakuya was not the head of the Kuchiki clan when his father Sojun died prematurely and make Byakuya the orphan heir apparent as an adolescent. He was not the head when he met Hisana in a grove of cherry trees in the middle of harvest, and fell in love with her He was not the head when he had a terrible row with his grandfather Ginrei and the rest of the clan elders about his elopement. He was not the head five years later, when on a cold spring morning before the plum trees had blossomed, Hisana died of a miscarriage.
One week later, when the plum trees bloomed and the cherry trees had budded, Byakuya came to his grandfather, head bowed and heart broken, and agreed to take up the mantle of Clan Head. His soul had already been torn in half, what was another half?
Everything has it's cost, and the price of Senbonzakura's power is the sacrifice of the weilder's own original Zanpakuto spirit, and by transference, the imminent death of the previous head.
He had known this day was coming, ever since his own native Zanpakuto spirit failed to awaken at the academy. At the time, he'd thought it a mercy that the poor thing wouldn't awaken and be aware of being devoured. But now, as he held the tiny, warm body of the spirit out to Senbonzakura, he could only think of the child he never got to hold.
...with Senbonzakura, at least, she'd be at rest with something beautiful that loved her.
Because Senbonzakura loves it's family, and in particular it adores Byakuya. It has, ever since Byakuya fearlessly climbed it's branches as a small boy, since he partook of the sword's fruits as a young man, and now, when Byakuya offered the most precious parts of himself to the sword with a sense of peace and profound trust. And Senbonzakura repays that trust in kind.
The sword's shikai release is the same, or at least similar for all it's wielders, but long-term friends of the family note that that is a LOT MORE blades than the sword ever summoned for Ginrei or any other head.
The Bankai is different every time. Senbonzakura is ready to give Byakuya whatever Bankai he wants immediately, but it's not until after he adopts Rukia and sees her fooling around in the family orchards when she thinks he isn't watching that he realizes the shape it should be.
It's name is "Senbonzakura: Sakura no Kaju-en" and it is beautiful and terrible.
Sakura no Kaju-en requires only that Byakuya pierce the flesh of his enemy or the terrain around him with one or more of his petal-blades. Once in the ground or embedded in flesh, the blade is transformed into a seed and an entire magical cherry tree grows from it, converting the Reishi and spiritual energy around it into its own mass. Since Byakuya is effectively wielding somewhere around 10,000 petal blades in his shikai alone, he can summon up to 10,000 devouring cherry trees, which will radically alter the landscape of battle and blossom into millions and millions of new petal-blades.
That is, unless his foe is unfortunate enough to have the blades penetrate their flesh. Then the trees will devour them as they grow. Even a truly massive opponent like Yammy can be mulched in minutes.
The trees initially blossom almost white, but as his enemies are felled and Senbonzakura drinks, the blooms grow pinker and then redder until they transform into deep crimson fruits.
It's a brutal Bankai, but a beautiful one. When Byakuya looks out upon the blooming landscape and tastes the sweet fruits of his efforts, it brings him peace to know the small, sleeping spirit he had to sacrifice is playing somewhere within, they way he saw Rukia playing in the family orchards that day.
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imaginate-with-me · 2 months ago
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Imagine: Jin’s door slamming shut, hands trembling as he shakes out a cigarette. He winces, the lighter clicking once… twice…
“Fuck…!” He hisses, a flame finally lingering long enough for him to light his cigarette.
His breath is rough as he thinks back to that stupid transfer. His eyes shut and all he can picture is your smile, your laugh, your love… and none of it is ever expressed to him.
How stupid of him to believe that you were different. Sure, he wasn’t great at expressing himself… but you always stuck around so he thought… he stupidity thought… that maybe you… you…
“Jin…” you called, voice echoing in the halls.
He dropped his cigarette, reaching out to lock the door, lock his heart from anymore pain… but you came bursting through, that stupid look on your face.
“Hey! If you saw Luca and I in the kitchen, you could have said something! Luca was telling me about Victoria sponge cake and we were trying to make it!”
Your constant chatter about that transfer was really getting on Jin’s nerve. He briskly turned, hands balled into fists as he tried to tune you out.
“…and then Luca dropped the flour! So that’s why-”
“…p…ge…t…”
“Huh? What’d you-”
“Shut up! Get the fuck out!” Jin snapped. You’d never seen Jin lose his cool like that, especially not directed at you.
“Haha… you don’t really mean that… urk!” You began, trying to approach him playfully, when suddenly you felt the cool blade of a sword against your neck. Jumping back, your eyes widened at the slight feeling of blood welling up at the shallow cut.
Jin had only meant to scare you… he hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten. He already was in a bad mood, but seeing you on the floor, your eyes looking at him in fear… and the icy king had never felt so deflated.
But he doubled down, kicking you out with a glare.
“Tch,” he clicked. He didn’t like you looking at the transfer student like that… but he never wanted to hurt you… for you to look at him like that…
Feelings… “pain in the ass…” he grumbled.
Jin always thought the day he let his guard down would be when Hell froze over… but right now, all that was freezing was his heart…
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justwinginglife · 9 months ago
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A Man Worth Fighting For
You'd heard the whispers about the Vice Captain of the Third Division when you were in the Fourth. You heard about how he was one of the only sword-wielders in the entire Defense Force but though that statement sounded like high praise to an outsider, it wasn't. No, the whispers were more like- "Do you think he's just desperate to be good at something, anything, because he's so shit with a gun?" or "How long do you think it'll take him to croak at the hands of a kaiju?" or "Who in their right mind would trust a whole division to him?"
But when you'd transferred over to his division yourself, you'd known right then from the moment you met him that all that gossip was bullshit. All that gossip was garbage spoken from the mouths of people who had never met him or met him but couldn't see him for who he truly was. He was an inspiration. A force to be reckoned with. And easy on the eyes as well. In your opinion.
The day you met him, you noticed right away how members of the Third Division rallied around him. How they bantered with him and begged for his advice. How they stood up straight with pride at being able to serve under him. And he was so supportive of them all- he encouraged their strengths and corrected their weaknesses with no judgment, no condescension, nothing but sound advice. You just hoped to god you could be an officer worthy of him one day. And maybe more than an officer to him one day.
It wasn't hard to fall in love with him. Sometimes you pretended that you were the only one he praised whenever you upped your combat power or got the upper hand on him in a fight. Sometimes you pretended not to notice when he'd offer to train other officers, thinking to yourself that you were the sole person he'd spend his time with. And then somewhere along the way, your little game with yourself started to border on reality.
He had stopped training other officers privately, now it was just you. And when the two of you were alone, he'd tell you things that he wouldn't tell anyone else.
You'd both be collapsed on a training mat, panting, and you'd say something like, "God, I could go for a swim right now," and then he'd reveal something like he'd never been to the ocean before or he once almost drowned as a kid, and slowly all of the little bits and pieces of himself that he had been hiding away underneath that tough Vice Captain exterior were being given away to you as little gifts to show he appreciated your time together. And you loved it. You'd give him some secrets of your own, both to make him feel more comfortable about all of his secrets being kept inside you, and because you just wanted him to know you better like you wanted to know him better.
"So you really got a tattoo on your lower back where no one could see it, huh? Interesting. Never pegged you for the type to get a revenge tattoo just because someone said you'd never do it." He says to you now. You both got the late night munchies and decided to skip over the private training session tonight in favor of raiding the kitchen together.
You nod slowly and then say, "Wanna see it?"
His eyes widen and you know he's dying to say yes but he doesn't want to come off as eager so he pretends to think for a moment. "I mean sure, why not?" He says casually. He's not subtle.
You laugh and then turn your back to him, slowly pulling up the bottom of your shirt.
You can't see him, but you hear the way his breath hitches in his throat and you swear you can hear his heart bounding out of his chest. He reaches a hand out before he can even think twice about it and runs it across your lower back.
"Wait a minute." He murmurs, tracing your skin, causing you to shiver. "I know these swords. Did you tattoo mine on your back?"
You nod, glad he can't see your face now.
"Why?" He steps closer, his breath hitting your neck now, while his hand continues to stroke the skin on your back.
"Because you always my back. And I wanted something to represent the person I admire the most. I might've gotten the tattoo to spite someone but I still wanted it to be meaningful."
His breath disappears from your neck and you wonder why he's pulling away and if you said something wrong but seconds later you find his hands gripping your hips as his lips press to your lower back, right above the tattoo. Your head arches back involuntarily at the sensation.
"Sorry." He says suddenly and pulls away, getting to his feet.
You turn to face him and grab his hands. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you liked the tattoo. Would've been awkward otherwise."
He laughs, glad you're still able to joke about what just happened. Then he looks away. "To be honest... it made me really happy to hear that you admire me because sometimes I wonder if I'm really the right man for this position." He admits.
You notice he won't meet your gaze but he hasn't pulled his hands away from yours. You give his hands a squeeze and then move upwards to start rubbing circles on his forearms with your thumbs. He looks back at you, surprised. He doesn't seem to be disliking it so you continue.
"Hey. Don't ever say that, okay? I knew from the moment I first met you, that you have more right to be here than any of us. In fact, not only do you have the right to be here, but none of us could do what we do without you. Everyone looks up to you, not just me."
He's stunned. "You-you really mean that?"
You smile at him and bring a hand up to cradle his cheek, both to comfort him and to keep him from looking away again as you say this, "Everyone knows how hard you work to support us, so let us support you, okay? You're amazing. Don't ever doubt it."
You think he might pull away from your hand but he relaxes into it, pressing the warmth of his flushed cheeks up against your skin.
"Maybe I'll get a tattoo of you next time." He mutters under his breath, half joking.
You laugh. "Can I kiss that one too?"
He pulls away from your hand, rolling his eyes, but the bright color still clings to his cheeks. "It was involuntary, okay? My body moved before I could even think about it."
You wink at him. "You could stand to do it some more. I wouldn't mind." Then you feel a little bold, having had so many of these little shared moments together that you think you might be able to get away with it. "In fact, if I had known you were going to react like that, I might've tatted up my whole body." You tease.
He coughs. "That's 50 push-ups for improper conduct."
You groan. "We're off duty, Vice Captain."
"I said 50."
You roll your eyes and get down to the ground. "I know you're just doing this to see my shirt ride up so you can get a better view of the tattoo." You mumble in between push-ups.
You can't see him, but you're pretty sure he's blushing again.
"Make it 100."
"Anything for you baby."
He chuckles again but then his voice gets softer. "Hey. Thanks again. For cheering me up."
"Anything for you baby."
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