#what-if fuzz au

[superluigiglitchy]

Just finished rewatching SMG4 What-if? and now im having feelings

aka Fuzzy Meggy au based on that fucked up Fuzzy Desti au @duckapus made where Mr. Grizz found Desti's body in the ocean and decided to do the trial runs for the fuzzy ooze which brought her back to life but fucked her up BIG TIME but like its Meggy instead (here)

(Long post ahead)

a few things before I start explaining away

Since Meggy's death each member of the gang have started wearing an article of orange in they're usually outfits (Saiko's twin tail ribbons are orange, Tari has an orange arm band on her hoodie, Mario has an orange Inkling patch stitched onto his overalls etc.) as a way to commemorate her

The three pieces of Meggy's head gear went to Luigi (beanie), Mario (headphones) and Tari (goggles) all three of them guard these pieces with they're lives

So many people blame themselves for Meggy's death that it can give someone chronic depression (read: me) but here's a few people of note

Axol: Despite the reassurances of the gang (including that of Desti's) Axol deeply blames himself for not knowing that Francis had made another Sephiroth and being able to erase it before it went and killed someone

Paige: Since their older sisters death they have double down on being the NSS's Captain and have worked harder than ever before much to the other agent's worry and concern, they have sever survivor's guilt an a guilt complex and as much as the other agents and cuttle fish try to help they either outright refuse or avoid them however that may change soon during the NSS's exploration of the ancient human settlement known as Altera

Tari: having lost her best friend and in the throws of grief she decided to learn to be stronger earlier than in canon with the help of Saiko surprisingly out of everyone she seems to have gotten a control over her grief, she still deeply wishes Meggy were still here with them but she knows that's not possible however she's been having strange dreams lately of her late friend but surely those are just that, dreams... Or are they?

Luigi: Since Meggy's death he has learned to not be as much of a scaredy cat and to pull his weight around in the team he still deeply misses her but he also acts as a rock for whenever the grief of the others gets too much for them, Especially for Mario however he like the others misses her greatly and often tries to 'think like Meggy' as he puts it when stuck in a pickle

Mario: Out of everyone he has the most grief over the lost of his best friend and sister, because of this it was like a switch was flipped and now he acts more subdued and not as chaotic (think of him as a mix between his memey self and pre-smg4 self) (which deeply disturbs everyone, even Peach surprisingly enough) however he is still the Avatar of the universe so he still gets dragged into insane adventures because of it only with a more subdued attitude and more responsible and smart (again deeply disturbs everyone) he often wonders that if he didn't instigate the anime challenge would none of this have happened? Luigi tries to assist him in processing the grief and guilt and help with his depression but it doesn't seem to be quite working

Desti: she is currently on the hunt for Sephiroths head and to get revenge so she has too much anger right now to process her guilt and grief which can rival even Mario's if not surpass it

Peach: since the fiasco of the anime arc Peach has become more thoughtful to others and careful in her decisions regarding Mario's antics and feels responsible for this mess having happened (she WAS the one responsible placing the ban in the first place) she acts much like her canon self here, everyone has mixed feelings over her however, Saiko especially who personally blames Peach for what she sees as causing the death of her friend Saiko hasn't really expressed this as not to aggravate the others but Peach sorta knows with how often Saiko shoots the Stink Eye at her

And that's about it now onto the au itself

During Splatoon 3's story mode (or at least this universe's version of it) the NSS find themselves stalked by a cat-like creature covered in scars and brown fur

(honestly they wouldn't really have noticed if not for Captain 3 halting everyone from moving pointing out that they were being watched by something and ironically enough the thing showed itself) shockingly though it began to smother Captain 3 with affection and purring like crazy much to Paige's annoyance and confusion and Callie and Marie's amusement

Callie: hehehe, it looks like it likes you captain

Paige being smothered with affection furiously by a purring cat creature: I am aware of that agent 1- HEY NO LICKING!!

Anyways now the NSS has this weird ass cat thing that's very clingy to their captain (the amount of black mail Andi has now is insane) and seems to have grown a liking to Andi as well ironically enough and ends up helping in the space battle quite a lot

Meanwhile as this is happening harbor and 8 end up helping Desti who was on the back ropes to defeat Sephiroth (much to her reluctance and stubbornness) and ends up taking her back to homebase cause 1. Cuttlefish were worried sick about her and 2. They ain't letting her disappear for several months again and it's here where they find out about the giant cat monster thing that the NSS have came to call Fuzzball instead of Subject 001 (which was the codename Mr. Grizz gave her) who takes an extreme liking to Desti MUCH to her confusion

Desti being cuddled to death by Fuzzball: what the fu-

Paige covered in orangey brown fur: you get used to it

Anyways something something the NSS and the smg4 crew have they're monthly meet up with a giant fuzzy cat thing in tow and because of E. Gadd shenanigans they find out that Fuzzball is actually Meggy *insert moment of disbelief and tear it filled moment here along with a bunch of reactions*

So anyways thanks to a combination of E. Gadd, the NSS, some help from Marina's memeverse and memery fuckery cause why tf not, they are able to find a cure for fuzzification for both the affected octarians and Meggy

But because of how long she's been trapped in Grizzco. and how long she's been experimented they weren't able to cure her all the way so now she's a cat bear squid human thing but that's just fine by the gang because they'll always love Meggy no matter what and BOY did they miss her

Bonus Megdesti:

[duckapus]

Bestie we gotta stop giving Meggy body horror trauma, I have 2 aus where Meggy's gets fuzzified and now you have an au where Meggy is part fungus - superluigiglitchy

part alien fungus! :D

[kitpine]

He's here to remind you of what you've done, Scott. Or would you like to indulge- forget it all again?

After a moment's consideration: here he is without the background

[phantasthesecond]

[spookymoonybeasty]

Just discovered your Worm off the String au. How does Dani come into being in this version? Manufacturing defect (non-derogatory) from the worm-on-a-string factory? Vlad collecting discarded fuzz from Danny?

Vlad, being the creep he is, stole shed fur over the course of a few months to make Danielle. However, he does not work in a worm-making factory nor does he know what he's doing or have the proper supplies for worm-making.

So Danielle happens! Unfortunately for her, she does not have a factory-issued string, her string is weak and prone to fraying. Which may potentially result in breaking. (like destabilization)

P1, P2

Masterpost

[primus-why]

Finally found the OG post chain lol

More on that Dropout Band AU

I can't find it right now but I once pitched an AU idea where TFA Optimus and his gang dropout/are kicked out of the Autobots and end up scraping their remaining credits together to form a traveling band to stay afloat, which ends up becoming really popular with Decepticons.

Well I just imagined a random little tidbit for that today: what if our starving artists literally ate their old Autobot insignias?

Hear me out! This comes from the idea that before they become a successful band they're low on essentials, like fuel. And perhaps they're too far from a planet to make a pit stop anytime soon... so, what's left to scrounge together for a quick snack or meal to get you through to the next space port? Why, literal scrap around the ship, that's what!

Imagine all they have left are some nickel shavings and a dream, as well as some scrap and their own insignias. Perhaps they had dropped out/defected suddenly, so they didn't get a chance to return the badge. Perhaps they were made to keep them, as a way for Ultra Magnus and the Autobot high command to keep an optic on them by tracking their location...

Extra funny if it's the latter, as after they crush and chew the insignias they obviously no longer work, so the Autobots who were tracking them assume they've all died some horrible deaths while stranded out in space lmao.

Anyways the insignias hold very little nutritional value but they'd be enough to fill their tanks with something until their next stop. Kinda like how folks strapped for a meal in famine will boil and eat uncured leather. Also it would be hilarious because it only adds to their street cred with the Decepticons... I'd imagine Bumblebee would be the one to spill the beans. He'd spin the tale so as to make it sound more like they were "sticking it to the man" and less like they were just starving lmao. Meanwhile the 'Cons are like "damn that's badass... they literally ate the symbol of the oppressors wow"

[spliceyblues]

So if it were MalleYuu, Malleus would get the most popularity solely based off his status and earthly power. Though realistically, at first he'd be ridiculed, mocked, and strippen down his title upon the capture. He rose to fame because of how recognized he is. I mean, hey isn't that the one human that claimed to be a fae prince of some valley?What's his fuzz all about? A fool turning into a dragon beast defending- hey wait a minute, he isn't human at all!? Of course, this was Twisted Wonderland we're dealing with. Aliens would presume those horns meant he was some other beastmen.

Ah-- and there goes the sudden interest, the rumors, the attention...the fame.

We all know Malleus can definitely sing and is musically acquainted with. Of course he'd use that as an advantage.

Then there's Yuu..

His beloved Yuu...

So we fast forward to the first round.

The audience cheering and betting on the obvious Mal win..Just a simple landslide of a win. I mean who even is this Yuu human they speak of?

But what if...

it doesn't happen.

On stage, they sing a duet. In their eyes, they see each other for the last time because they know it's their last night together.

And they harmonize beautifully...

Like as if their voices were a true match from the heavens. A duet so perfectly rehearsed and tuned melody. Almost like they were making a powerful love confession through their voices.

And as they gazed into each other's galactic eyes, hoping that their strategy might have worked...well at least one remained hopeful.

A splash of blood instantly hits Yuu's face as their smile slowly fades along the endless gleam of light glowing above them.

The mocking sign of the first round winner displaying above:

Round 1 Winner: Yuu

☆ " The galactic stardust in your eyes spread out

In the endless darkness, I find you with your scent

Even if I fall asleep in infinity, don't leave my side. " ☆

MalleYuu ALNST AU

RookVil ALNST AU here

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU

part 1

“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.

Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”

“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”

Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”

Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”

He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.

A lot of people aren’t around anymore.

Nobody fights for fallen kings.

So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.

From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.

Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)

“You want to try that again?”

Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.

Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.

Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”

Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”

Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.

A little stiff in his jeans.

When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.

“M’row,” says the cat.

There’s a dead bird at her feet.

—

part 3

[superluigiglitchy]

i have three fuzzy meggy aus each with different flavours

triple dose Meggy

- gets the short end of the stick by the universe

- gets brainwashed, is turned into a zombie by a fucked up telephone then gets turned into a furry

- has the most mental faculties out of the three shockingly

- still meggy but 20% more traumatised

- scars mostly from metro and the from falling of the platform in the final fight in splatoon 2

- body horror central folks

- second tallest (tari height), moderate back aches but is manageable with pain killers

What if fuzz Meggy

- fucking died but is better now

- was stuck in the Grizz co labs for four years so kinda fucked up

- still somewhat Meggy but more cat like (Meggy's personality merged with the feline instincts from the fuzzy ooze in order to create a balance with in her psyche so she can return to being mentally present)

- was in a mindless feral state for the past 4 years until running into the NSS in Alterna and just started acting like a protective house cat

- shock collars scars on wrists, ankles and neck for tyung to escape so often (thanks grizz)

- large 3 claw mark on the left side of her face from a fuzzy octarian

- tallest of the bunch, much chronic pain from sudden growth spurt and rigor mortis, has to wear back brace to alleviate the pain along with arm and leg braces, takes pain killers often on a schedule to prevent potency lowering, still very much active in sports though

Fuzzy Martyr Meggy

- stepped in to help Paige against grizz and got fuzzy ooze on an open wound caused by mr. grizz when she took a hit for paige on accident and didnt tell anyone

- prevented the apocalypse but at the cost of her almost losing her humanity and becoming an animal slowly

- is doing better now but is still recovering mentally from almost losing herself to the wildness

- struggles controlling her feline instincts and often fights with herself

- has like 3 distinct personas now, shadow meggy, herself and the cat which came from the fuzzy ooze (its chill dw)

- tries to keep distance from everyone else but fails horribly because they refuse to leave her alone (found family all the way)

- sad wet kitty

- still pretty small but had a littke growth sourt so shes at least Mario's height now

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: BODY HAIR, BHAALIST DU DROW, BLOOD INQUIRIES, THE MAN'S DICK AND HOBBIES.

Answering more asks! As always, I want to apologize for not being able to get to everyone - literally nobody has ever complained about it, but I still feel bad 😅I appreciate everyone's questions and sweet messages all the same, and even if your ask isn't here I hope you can be entertained by the other replies!

Anon I feel terrible about having to say this because I can tell you were hoping for a specific answer here, plus doing your very best to sell your pitch to me -

But DU drow hates body hair.

I'm not making this up in the spot just to be a contrarian, this is one of various unimportant character details that have come up already at some point or another, for whatever reason. It is no coincidence that many of the characters he finds unattractive do have visible body hair, like Gale and Halsin whose hairy toes he dreads the sight of.

I refuse to believe that elves are truly dolphin-smooth as that would be an absolute biological nightmare, so both him and Astarion have a normal amount of peach-fuzz all over. Otherwise, DU drow finds the sight of anything longer/coarser than that unseemly, and the feeling unpleasant; it is simply what he grew up with and hence what he's used to. In this respect, he wants people who take after his own image.

As with most things, he could forgive it if he were in love with someone - assuming you don't mind the occasional joke about it. And unfortunately I think something as significant as Halsin's case would be too off-putting for him to ever give them a chance. A Shadowheart situation, on the other hand, he could grow to like.

I believe there's some sources that imply bhaal-corrupted(?) blood should taste a particular way, leaning towards the unpleasant. People can make up whatever headcanons they want with that information, BUT since I spent over half of this game supplying the guy with the stuff and he seemed all too pleased about it, I choose to assume it's not that bad.

I think there would be something... Lively about it? Fairly normal taste but it leaves a tingle on his tongue, like it squirms on its way out and dies in his mouth moments before it can hit the throat. Very salty, but it could just be his skin.

[FAR, FAR MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Bhaalist DU drow likes both cats and dogs just fine (again, he considers the animal kingdom to be it's own thing and hence removed from his fate to butcher humanity) and you wouldn't be wrong to assume he has a thing for dogs in that AU because of their unconditionally loving and loyal nature, however Bhaalist DU drow is still very much a cat person. He likes their independence, their little attitudes, their self-sufficiency, plus the fact that they keep the rat population in check inside the temple. He finds those qualities admirable, respectable, perhaps he would even find them desirable in a partner if, unlike he cats, he wasn't so opposed to them roaming free.

In-game DU drow succeeded the check required to spot Astarion before he could jump him - so yes, just not the version where they end up rolling awkward around the sand for 2 minutes, LOL.

He's semi aware of it, or at least he becomes aware whenever Astarion's mask slips. When Astarion is putting on a good performance, DU drow wholeheartedly believes it. Also, It's worth noting that Astarion does manage to have fun occasionally, and have periods of... Superficial happiness? They just so happen to be unfulfilling, and don't make up for all the other pitfalls of his situation when they inevitably come crashing back. He's also great at tricking himself into thinking this is a good time.

Bhaalist DU drow makes vague attempts at "making things better" whenever he catches him in a mood, usually through physical affection or lavish gifts. That works well enough the first year I think, before everything kind of loses its luster. After that, DU drow just gets it into his head that Astarion "doesn't understand what he must do to succeed and keep him safe".

This is a VERY interesting observation and... Maybe? Especially early in the relationship, DU drow finds Astarion's quasi-predatorial behavior very attractive, but only AFTER he notices his vampirism. I think this outlook of the character contextualizes Astarion's condition in a way that he can immediately understand and simpathize with, even if DU drow doesn't know much about vampires themselves. Of course, this is specific to Astarion - he does not extend this grace to the rest of his kind.

I'll be thinking about this one!

I don't know the video in question but from your description I think they would both be VERY confused, LOL.

HMM, I think that might actually depend on a lot of things! Assuming the woman (or just the other partner) in the relationship isn't a drow, and exactly what KIND of devotion we're talking about (is the drow pro-active? Protective? Does he put his neck on the line for this relationship with pride? Does he seem strong and capable and like he doesn't rely on his partner?) he might see enough of himself in him that they could actually get along. This is similar to how DU drow immediately took a liking to Aylin even though she's this moon-goddess child and a supposed beacon of justice.

The quickest way to get on DU drow's good side is to be the idealized version of what he believes himself to be. Oh, and not get in his way.

If they're both drow it's kind of hopeless though, yeah LOL.

Planning on it!!

DU drow never slept with Haarlep! He only took his clothes off and then attacked him full in the nude.

...I'm not sure how to justify that in the lore, but it's exactly what I did and it's too funny to take it back, LOL

I think Astarion was just kind of baffled by what transpired until DU drow turned to while hopping around pulling his pants back on and asked if he enjoyed the show, then he remembered he just loves finding any excuse to take his clothes off.

That's a lovely compliment, I definitely go for a very "organic" look so I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you!

Thank you!!! A lot has actually been said about Gortash in my #enver gortash tag, if you'd like to get all the gritty details. Suffice to say that they had a very odd but significant friendship.

DU drow is the kind of person who shoots awake as soon as the sun starts gracing the sky, but he tends to do whatever he has to do and then go back to bed right after, and stay there at least a bit past noon. He did this both in his bhaalist days and in Astarion's company, though the amount of time he spends asleep during the day definitely increases because of the vamp, especially over time!

So, the urethra in a penis is located pretty much on the underside of the shaft, so the wound actually does not reach it! As far as functions go - peeing and ejaculating - it comes out of the tip's opening as normal. When he first caused the wound it probably did puncture the urethra, but that would have closed up over time. What you see is the injury many years after the fact, after all.

So the implications are pretty minor. Aesthetically, his foreskin hangs a bit weirdly when he's soft (like a tiny little penis curtain) and has more give than usual. Functionally, he has spots within the scarred up injury that are either numb or overly sensitive. Also, you can kind of see the dickhead notch through his underwear which is fun.

Otherwise, that is pretty much it! No worries about the nature of the question I've gotten worse, LOL. Thank you for your kind words as well!

I think he used to write in his bhaalist days - very, very occasionally mind you - like if you scoured the temple you would find a dozen or so ripped up pieces of paper with little short poems on them, written in a very sharp and carefree hand. Anywhere from 3 to 10 lines per-poem, usually less than more. The sentences are descriptive of actions, never feelings or thoughts, but they don't ever seem literal.

Back in those days, he also went to the theater every other year.

Post-tadpole, he ends up dabbling in carpentry, leather-work, and enjoys listening for musical numbers taking place in taverns and inns to go to and watch. He eventually starts pulling Astarion into little slow dances when that happens. I think he might end up writing again someday, but not for many, many years.

[someonegoood]

THE CORPORATE EQUATION drabble #2 ✫ jeon jungkook

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, teasing, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 <3

drabble #2: a taste of normal

The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the air as you pushed the door open to your favorite neighborhood café. The familiar chime of the bell overhead was comforting, a tiny signal that you’d escaped the pressures of the week for a brief moment. Sunday afternoons were your sanctuary, a time to detach from the endless emails, spreadsheets, and office drama.

The last thing you expected was to find your boss seated in the corner booth, looking entirely out of place.

Mr. Jeon was dressed in a simple black hoodie, ripped jeans, and sneakers. A black baseball cap obscured most of his face, though his striking features were unmistakable. You blinked, unsure if you were hallucinating from a lack of caffeine or if this was some bizarre fever dream.

It wasn’t that Jungkook didn’t deserve a coffee break; you just couldn’t imagine him willingly stepping into a café that didn’t serve espresso in tiny porcelain cups and cost more than your weekly grocery bill.

As if sensing your presence, he glanced up from his laptop, his sharp eyes softening slightly when they landed on you.

“Miss?” he asked, his deep voice laced with surprise.

“Boss?” The word tumbled out before you could stop yourself. The second it left your mouth, you cringed internally. Boss. Of course, that’s what you called him. Never mind that you were both technically off the clock.

He sighed, closing his laptop with a soft click. “Do you have to call me that? We’re not at the office.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Well, you do look a little out of place here. Are you sure you’re not scouting this place as a potential business acquisition?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “Funny. I didn’t realize sarcasm was in the HR handbook.”

“It’s in the fine print,” you shot back. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in a penthouse somewhere, strategizing world domination?”

“Can’t a guy get a cup of coffee without being psychoanalyzed?” he countered, though the corner of his mouth quirked upward in amusement.

You snorted. “Not when that guy is you.”

Despite your banter, you found yourself sliding into the seat across from him. It wasn’t every day you saw Jeon Jungkook, the untouchable CEO, looking almost…normal. The tension that usually accompanied him at the office seemed to dissipate in the warm glow of the café. He looked younger, softer, like the weight of the world had temporarily slipped off his shoulders.

“You’re staring,” he pointed out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just… surprised,” you admitted. “I’ve never seen you outside of a suit before. It’s unsettling.”

“Unsettling?” He raised an eyebrow. “Should I apologize for being comfortable?”

“Maybe,” you teased. “You’re ruining my perception of you as an untouchable workaholic. What’s next? Are you going to tell me you binge-watch reality TV and own a pair of fuzzy slippers?”

He chuckled, a sound so rare you almost didn’t recognize it. “I’ll have you know my slippers are plain black. No fuzz.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound earning a few curious glances from nearby patrons. It was strange, sitting across from Mr. Jeon and sharing a moment that felt so…ordinary. At work, he was the epitome of composure and authority, a man whose presence demanded attention.

“So... what’s the real reason you’re here?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re working on a Sunday.”

He hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Sometimes it’s easier to think when I’m not surrounded by… distractions.”

“Distractions?” you repeated. “You mean like the employees who keep your company running?”

Jungkook’s lips twitched, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he took a sip of his coffee, his gaze fixed on the window. “You’re not wrong. But it’s not just work. It’s everything. Sometimes I need to step away from all of it, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard. For a moment, the mask he wore so well slipped, revealing a man who wasn’t as invincible as he seemed. It made you wonder just how heavy the crown of CEO truly was.

“That sounds… lonely,” you said softly.

He glanced at you, his expression guarded. “It’s part of the job.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the café filling the space between you.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“At work, you’re all sunshine and optimism. Always smiling, always ready to solve problems. It’s… annoying, honestly.”

You gasped in mock offense. “Annoying? I’ll have you know my positivity is one of my best qualities.”

“And yet here you are, calling me lonely and ruining my coffee break,” he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your… non-distracting thoughts,” you said, standing up.

Jungkook’s gaze followed you as you walked away, a strange mix of curiosity and something softer lingering in his eyes. As you stepped back into the crisp afternoon air, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t as untouchable as he seemed.

previous / next

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[pinkanonwrites]

Handle with Care

Rodimus has finally been allowed to bring you into a meeting to hopefully curb some of his rampant fidgeting problems. It ends up having unforeseen consequences.

First Contact AU! Rodimus/Human Reader

NSFW, DUB-CON, Accidental Stimulation, Rodmius has ADHD and you can pry that fact out of my cold dead hands

(Since this is a First Contact AU Rodimus uses Cybertronian words for body parts instead of human ones for you, but the Reader is a human!)

Rodimus knew he always did his best thinking when he had something to do with his servos. As insistent as Ultra Magnus was that his endless tapping, bouncing, and desk-carving was simply "an untapped well of craving for mayhem", Rodimus knew that having even a little something to fiddle with would make those endless, droning safety meetings into something just barely bordering on tolerable.

And since Ultra Magnus was also sick of his relentless desk vandalism, he finally gave the begrudging all-clear for Rodimus to bring his favorite organic to the meeting room.

"They can remain so long as they are not a distraction." With his soft little buddy cupped carefully in his servos, not even Ultra Magnus's stern words could sway his captain's notable enthusiasm.

"You say that as if they could be any more distracting than the bot carrying them." Megatron added.

"You worry too much! We'll be quieter than moon mice, right bud?" Rodimus ran a thumb over your soft, fuzz-covered helm as he took his seat. You were sitting comfortably in the center of his right palm, legs dangling over the edge between his digits. He kept his middle and ring digits curled up slightly to keep you from toppling forward, and you'd settled yourself in with your arms folded atop them and your chin resting against the tips of his digits. He gave you another soft stroke to the helm and beamed at the content little chirp you let out in response.

Ultra Magnus cleared his vents. "If we may begin, we have a lot of ground to cover. Starting with the grievous filing system Brainstorm has insisted on using for the weapons bay. It flaunts any Cybertronian standard known to bot and presents a massive safety risk when considering…"

Yeah, if Rodimus hadn't brought you along he'd already be itching for a dagger to start carving caricatures with. Instead his left-servo digits wandered lazily over your helm and shoulders, absentmindedly petting as his processor already started phasing out the dialogue of his second-in-command. Primus, organics really were so soft. Even your little coverings were soft, he noted as he ran a digit tip over the fabric covering your torso. You let out another quiet hum, melting ever further into Rodimus's grip as he patted you.

"And if you think your petition to install turbo-thrusters on your private vehicle was approved, Rodimus, I assure you it was not."

"WHA-?! What's wrong with the turbo thrusters? Brainstorm already approved the prototype!" He sat upright and forward in his seat, left servo cupping around your back to make sure you weren't overly jostled. "And they'll look great on the Rod Pod, too. Already painted and everything."

"We can't have one of our captains blowing himself up meteor surfing just because he wanted a thrill. And must I emphasize the use of the word 'prototype'? Meaning 'unfinished and untested'?"

"What better way to test them than on my ship?" 

"Do you want them listed alphabetically, or by order of safety protocol?"

Rodimus grumbled, a buzzing charge of irritation spiking through his frame. He cupped your back tighter with his servo to make sure you were still settled in as he flumped back into his seat with an overly dramatic ex-vent. The motion pushed your entire soft fore up against his wide digits, and he could feel a shiver course through your small frame. 

"You bored yet?" He murmured, knowing you couldn't fully understand him but also knowing his comments would needle at Ultra Magnus. "Or are you cold? You feel pretty warm." A single digit stroked down the length of your spinal strut and Rodimus startled at the sudden, shaky in-vent you'd failed to stifle. "What was…?"

"Affectionate little organic you've found for yourself, Rodimus." Megatron's comment nearly made Rodimus leap out of his own plating. The taller mech gestured to the way you'd wrapped both of your arms around Rodimus's digits, your cheek pressed against the metal tip of one.

"W-Well yeah! I am their favorite, after all." He asserted, though his free digits kept wandering up and down the expanse of your back. The last thing he wanted was for Megatron and Ultra Magnus to think something was wrong with you. That would just give them more reason to not let him bring you to meetings. No, as soon as he could slip out of here he'd take you to Perceptor himself to get you checked out. Hopefully you could wait it out that long.

But as the meeting progressed Rodimus found that everything that was being said to him was going in one audial processor and straight out the other. He was too focused on your movement, each tiny rock and wriggle. He kept the palm of his other servo pressed against your back to keep you snug and warm, though his own sensors didn't indicate anything out of the norm for your current ambient temperature. Maybe you got bored like he did? Absent-mindedly he began bouncing you in his palm, just barely enough movement to jostle your frame. The dull motion would keep you occupied and keep Rodimus from going stir-crazy with nothing to fiddle with. He was killing two birdbots with one stone!

"...And if we're going to allow Swerve to continue his antics, I must insist that he is at least properly licensed and certified." 

"C'mon! It's good for-!" Rodimus had tried to interject, but before he could he was interrupted by a strangled yelp from his palm. All three bots' optics were drawn to your form as you shuddered in Rodimus's servo, arms and legs squeezing around his digits and your helm hanging over the tips of them, hiding your faceplate from view. Your own little servos pushed pathetically at Rodimus's, trying to shove your fore away from his touch as you whimpered.

"You didn't squash them, did you? Rodimus."

"They don't appear to be harmed. Merely… distressed?"

"No worries everything's fine let's pick this up next cycle sounds good okay BYE!" Rodimus spat out a flurry of placations and excuses as he scrambled to leave, cupping you close to his chest the entire sprint back to his own habsuite. Only once he was over his desk, littered with your various human-sized furniture and items, did he carefully uncup his hands and let you sprawl out across a single palm. You remained lying flat on your back, fore heaving as you vented, helm fluff sticky with your organic-made coolant where it clung to your face. As you made optic contact with him you let out the tiniest, most pathetic whine as your servos flew up to cover your face.

"Rodimus…" Though you couldn't fully understand each other, you had settled on a throaty, metered recreation of his name, doing your best to mimic the mechanical warbles he had used to introduce himself to you. He'd heard you use it a handful of times before, mostly to get his attention. But now? Now you seemed absolutely distraught, whining out the word in a high, flustered pitch through your cupped servos.

"What?! What did I do wrong?" He blinked owlishly down at you, poking ever so gently around your form with a free digit. He prodded at your helm, your shoulders, your chassis… But as his digits trailed down your fore you whimpered, hips jerking pathetically up as he neared your pelvis. You let out another embarrassed squeak, one of your pedes kicking frantically against his digit with a metal 'bang!' to shove it away. 

Oh. Oops.

Rodimus wasn't stupid, he knew that humans didn't have armor plating. Instead you delighted in covering yourself with various colorful fabrics for different occasions and times of day, a freedom of self-design that he both greatly admired and slightly envied.

But Rodimus had never actually considered that no armor really meant no armor. Not even a modesty plate. 

"I'm so sorry!" He hissed, heat rushing to his own faceplate as well. Accidentally making you overload in the middle of a meeting wasn't even on the list of possible ways Rodimus thought things could go wrong, but apparently now it needed to be added. He'd used the vibrating buzz if his digits many a time on other mechs and femmes, but he never intended to use it on you. At least not in that way! Letting you slide oh-so-carefully from his palm and onto the surface of the desk, you continued to languish in your humiliation sprawled out on your back. "I really didn't mean to! I know you don't know what I'm saying but I promise it wasn't on purpose!"

You glanced through your fingers at his faceplate and his apologetic frown, letting out another huff. This one sounded less overwhelmed though, more resigned. You gestured for him to bring a servo closer and he did, only for you to duck your helm under one of his digits and let him pet your soft organic head fluff. 

"You forgive me?" You couldn't understand him but gave him a small, reassuring pat on the palm. "Ahh, thank you! If it's any consolation, I don't think either of them noticed."

But as he carefully stroked your helm with two digits, a teeny tiny part of Rodimus's processor was curious. How hard was it for you to keep quiet? Was the wiggling around from you trying to get away from the stimulation, or chase it? Were you scared, overloading in a room full of giant mechs? Or was there a chance that part of you might have… enjoyed it?

Weird. He was weird. And he was going to file those thoughts away behind a door in his processor to only be opened when he needed things to feel self-deprecating about. Rodimus of Nyon, Captain of the Lost Light, secret fantasizer of human overloads… Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over well.

And yet, Rodimus couldn't help how little he actually minded that.

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part three

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru doesn't understand why you aren't the one to wake him every morning. he becomes moody in your absence, haunted by a fear that isn't fully realized. satoru spends his days confused as he wanders the grounds in search of you. he has no idea what to expect when he finally gets you alone. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive topics (mention of flashing & teen masturbation), meal skipping, satoru has a panic attack

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 3,486

𝜗𝜚 an: part three!! come get yall's food lol

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p4┊

“Who do you want to marry when you grow up, Satoru?” you’re smiling at him when you ask, looking up from the dandelion that rested in your small grip; wispy white seeds blowing away with the wind. Satoru watches the fuzz carry on into the open field from where the two of you were sitting, his own wispy white strands tickling his neck from the random gust of wind causing a shudder to ripple through his small form. 

“Satoru, are you listening to me?” you giggle, covering your mouth as a blush creeps up his chubby face. 

“Of course I was,” he insists, cheeks getting brighter as you continue to giggle at him; you were used to Satoru getting distracted by the littlest of things. You pick up another dandelion, scooching closer to his face before giving it a hearty blow and Satoru frantically waves his hands in front of his face - trying desperately to vanish the fluff in front of him. “I was listening,” he states, exasperated. “You just didn’t give me time to think,” he pouts and your giggle fit kicks in again. “Stop it!” he begs, crossing his arms in a huff. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you tell him, reeling in your humor and straightening out your face. “You don’t have a favorite Princess already in mind?” you ask, daydreaming about his romanticized future. You were always there while his parents talked about all the possibilities Satoru had to look forward to. Even in their young age many of the Princesses were ‘radiant beauties’ who would make ‘perfect wives for a lucky Prince’. You all but sighed imagining the lavish wedding full of blooming flowers and a flawlessly flowy veil. 

“No,” he scoffs at that idea, “Only girls care about that mushy stuff,” his fists dig into the dirt to distract himself from the blush that he couldn’t seem to shake off his cheeks. 

“Not even a little bit?” you ask him, hiding your knowing smile by biting your nails. 

“Only sometimes,” he concedes and you perk up a little; still cautious about riling him up again.

“What do you think about?” you subconsciously lean in closer, worried his words would get carried away with the wind. 

“That it won’t be fun….” he pauses, pulling strands of grass out from the ground while he readies himself, “Without you there.”

“Of course I’ll be there silly,” you’re quick to remind him. You wouldn’t miss his wedding for anything. Hell, practically the whole world would be watching and you’d be no different; cheering for the Prince as he found his Princess; securing their place as soon to be King and Queen of the kingdom. 

“Not in the way that I’d want,” he sighs, opening his fist and letting the pile of grass fall back down onto the ground. Your eyebrows furrow, unsure what to make of his statement. You notice how crestfallen he looks though, and you move onto the next thing to busy his thoughts with. It’s easy, it always has been easy to distract the Prince; but every so often you see his lips purse and eyebrows knit as if he’s remembering an unpleasant thought. 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru wakes up early the day after the ball; alerted to the strange man in his room opening his curtains at the first sign of dawn. “Who are you?” he asks, voice full of unease while he watches said man cross his room back to the door he arrived through. 

“Peter, your highness,” the man bows to him, “Breakfast is awaiting you in your private dining room,” he scurries off, leaving Satoru even more confused. Anxiety quickly starts to eat at the features on his face as he sits up, deep in thought. Where could you possibly be? He couldn’t remember you requesting time off…. perhaps you had fallen ill? His thoughts did a number on his heart, feeling his pulse quicken and his chest vibrate from the heavy thumps the organ was producing. He shakes his head, slowing his thoughts and thus his heart, focusing on getting dressed to make it to breakfast. He all but runs throughout the palace, bare feet pattering against the marble floors while he makes his way down the winding halls until he arrives at his destination; hastily pushing open the doors of his dining room. He sees Peter again, standing against the wall like all servants were trained to do before pulling out a chair for the Prince. Satoru’s vision blurs. You had never not let him know your schedule. If you weren’t going to be there for his day you always told him. Always. Usually weeks in advance too. His palms perspired and he rubbed them on the fabrics of his pants. “Please, eat well, Princ-” Peter talks and Satoru immediately cuts him off.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Satoru tries to steady his tone but his voice shakes and Peter clears his throat before excusing himself, leaving his questions unanswered. He should know better than to get all worked up over something he has no information on yet, but he ignores his meal anyways and heads back to his room, his appetite suffering from the anxiety gnawing on his insides. 

𝜗𝜚

Peter had a hard time getting Satoru ready for the day, the stubborn Prince making it purposefully more difficult the longer he went without the information he seeked. The poor servant does his best - sticking out Satoru’s backhanded comments and incessant teeth sucking as he grew more and more frustrated with the man. He still goes to his classes for the day, not without waving his hand at Peter as he follows him around like a fruit fly to an orange; desperately trying to get the man off his back, 

“Fetch me my tea and biscuits early,” he snaps, frustrated even before putting brush to canvas as his art teacher squirms - not used to such a volatile attitude from the Prince aimed towards a servant. Peter jumps from his tone, rushing to please the fuming royal. When Peter comes back with the wrong biscuits Satoru is quick to insult him, calling him a ‘bumbling idiot who needs to put his head on straight so he can go and find you to smooth over his mistakes’. Peter perspires heavily, bowing repeatedly and apologizing before seeing himself off, desperately trying to think of which biscuits the Prince was referring to as the correct ones.  

During his dance lessons Satoru starts to grow dizzy - seeing Peter’s face every time he spun around in his direction did little to settle his stomach. He held no ill will towards the man - but the longer he went without seeing you the harder it was to quell his anger. The fact Peter seemed clueless to your whereabouts was doing him no help either. “I need a glass of water,” Satoru stops his teacher, removing his hand from her waist and making his way to the door. Peter calls after him when his body makes it past the threshold but Satoru doesn’t look back and Peter gives up the chase before it even starts. Exhausted from a day of following the grumpy Prince around. 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the kitchens, but your sunken shoulders and red eyes was definitely not one of them. “Thank God,” he says, alerting the busy kitchen staff to his arrival. He strides across the room, making his way towards you with a look of relief on his face; knowing that you were still in the palace settled his nerves just a little. Your face looked anything but relieved - your figure tenses upon seeing the Prince and your throat tightens watching him make his way towards you. You’re frozen, unable to move when you feel a harsh pinch at your side. You turn to see your mother, eyes communicating clearly with yours; you needed to make yourself scarce. Your heart skips a beat and you hardly notice you’re holding your breath. Once the Prince was almost directly in front of you, you jumped to action, setting down your paring knife and hastily leaving through the back door of the kitchen.

Satoru doesn’t have any time to call out your name, his mouth opens in an attempt but the swinging door of the kitchen is already stilled by the time he processed what happened. His head tilts, not believing it. Your mother interrupts his thoughts with a polite bow, “Prince Gojo, how may we be of help?” Her smile is gentle but her eyes are wild while they search the Prince’s features - trying to read what his next actions might be. He studies her own features just as much as she does his - taking in her full cheeks and narrow eyes. You resemble your father more, but you have your mother’s nose and his heart constricts again at the realization you had walked away from him.

“Just a glass of water, ma’am, thank you,” he all but whispers.  

𝜗𝜚

“Stop talking about my wedding!” child Satoru stomps his foot at you. The two of you were in the middle of an intense game of checkers when you were feeling a bit giddy about the conversation that occurred during breakfast. 

The Queen had droned on and on about the beautiful Princess of a neighboring nation to the two of you. You ignored the food under your nose as the Queen described the unknown girl; curly blonde hair with beautiful bright blue eyes, with a passion for the piano. You sighed in awe, already fantasizing about the lucky Princess - pondering if she liked chasing frogs like Satoru and you did, or if she preferred the comfort of the indoors. Your elbows hit the table while you imagined the other little girl in your head and the Queen was quick to snap at you. “Manner’s child!” your girlish smile fell as your hands hit your lap, apologizing for disrespecting her.

As you were about to king yourself, you stopped, mentioning the Princess before the moment you stacked your piece onto the other, irritating the ever competitive Satoru. “Just king yourself already!” he groaned, wanting nothing to do with the conversation you were striking up. Surely you had to be doing it just to rub in your impending victory. 

“She would look so good in your family’s color,” you sighed, continuing the game while you fantasized yet again about the Prince’s perfect future. A girl with blue eyes and fair skin like Satoru surely would look amazing in the Gojo’s signature blue. 

“I don’t care!” he shouts, visibly irritated by the conversation’s topic. You shake your head, assuming he was just being a boy about it; refusing to entertain the idea of a wife and a whirlwind romance. You didn’t know and you wouldn’t ever know but Satoru didn’t like the idea of a picture perfect wedding and a throne to call his own because he just wanted to play with you forever. It was childish, sure, but he was a child when he first realized where his thoughts were on the matter. He hated the idea that you would eventually become like a picture on the wall, always there in the background but never to be seen or heard from. It wouldn’t be until he was a little older that he realized being married doesn’t sound all that bad if you really enjoy their company. If he could be himself and they could make him laugh. ‘That wouldn’t be too bad’, he told himself.

As you both grew together, his body went through awkward phases - causing strange urges he couldn’t seem to satiate for the longest time - always missing something he couldn’t quite place until the day he accidentally saw the supple skin hidden under your skirt. Things really started to heat up from there and he spent far too many days ‘sick’ in his bed with his fists under the covers. Of course you would be there afterwards with a cool towel to wipe the sticky sweat from his face after checking up on him. It was then he realized there must be more to a wife than simple friendship.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru’s days pass without much purpose, He essentially ignores Peter upon realizing the man was utterly useless, choosing to dictate his own day much to everyone’s dismay. He skips scheduled lessons, lets his food go cold during meal times, walks aimlessly around the gardens, and most of all checks in the kitchen for your face. He doesn’t see you any of the countless times he checks and he scoffs louder every time he peeks his head in just to see your figure missing among the sea of silver pots and pans.

Satoru ‘excuses’ himself from his untouched dinner on the last day of the week, heading to the stables and saddling up his own horse before taking off down the field and into the forest he took you through just two weeks before. Riding his horse had been the only solace for him while his thoughts seemed to eat him from the insides. The uneven earth beneath the two of them managing to ease the rising tide of his emotions for the time being. He spent a while out in the forests bordering the Gojo’s land, finding the winding path capable of maintaining his attention and giving him no time to ponder the reality he was facing back at the palace. He doesn’t want to head back but his bones start to ache and his mouth begins to parch so he makes his way to the stables, hopping off his stallion as he got closer to its open doors.

It’s there that he stops abruptly, seeing you for the second time that week. Satoru couldn’t recall a time he went that long without seeing your face. You hadn’t noticed him yet - too busy dragging a bale of hay twice your size into one of the many stalls the stable held. You were out of breath, covered in dust and sweat, your hair falling out of its ribbon that you used to keep it back and your face red from the constant strain of overworking your muscles. He decided to take a different approach from when he saw you in the kitchens, abandoning his horse to sneak up behind you, grabbing a strand of your ribbon and pulling it away, causing your hair to cascade down. You shoot up, turning around and seeing the Prince directly in front of you. The two of you were so close that your noses almost touched and you stood, frozen in fear yet again. Your heart beat rapidly; joining the chaotic rhythm Satoru sported the moment he finally saw you after all these days apart. “Let me help you,” he murmured, messily collecting your hair into a bundle at the back of your head, concentrating hard as he tied the ribbon tight into place. “There,” he purred, petting your head as he tried to smooth out any bumps and you felt your resolve just about shatter from the tender touches of his slender fingers against your skull. 

“Prince Gojo,” you almost dry heave when you finally speak, “That was inappropriate,” you speak so softly, not believing in the words that come out of your mouth. His eye twitches at your words, taken aback from the title you used with him. The two of you were alone and yet you saw it fit to call him that? The title he begged to be removed from your vocabulary even against his parent’s demands. The one you never used in an empty room such as this. 

“Why haven’t you been waking me each morning?” he asks, dumbfounded even by his own words. He wanted to ask what was with the disgusting title. He wanted to ask why you practically ran when he saw you in the kitchens. He wanted to ask why his best friend all but vanished from his life only to be inhabiting the halls he walked for hours, searching for you. You don’t meet his frantic eyes when you mumble something about taking on new responsibilities and he doesn’t mean to but he shouts, “Why would you do that?!” He isn’t sure he can swallow down the crashing waves of acid threatening to spill from his pretty pink lips due to the way you were staring down at your shoes instead of into his pleading eyes. Betrayal is hot on his mind and accusations sit heavy on his tongue when you don’t respond but he collects what little control he has left; unwilling to accept you could be so indifferent to him. “What could possibly cause you to act like this?!” his voice is shaky and his eyes turn glossy waiting for your response. 

You want nothing more than to cling to his body, to feel the protection of a man with choices in his life but you can’t cling to him and none of his choices are his to make. His whole life had been paved for him the moment his head crowned and the Gojo’s welcomed their baby boy into the world. You reflect on the Queen’s warnings and focus on the truth of the matter. Satoru had no say in his life; bound by rules and customs created long before his tentative eyes could take in the size of his fortress. One day he would be required to marry - against his wishes if it came down to it because as the only heir he had no choice. You weren’t just saving your parents from a life on the streets or yourself from being forever shunned as the girl who dared tried to dirty the Prince - you were saving Satoru from the heartache of watching that happen to you. The words you were about to say needed to be said. No matter how loud your pulse was in your ears threatening to make you go deaf. “I grew uncomfortable with our closeness,” his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, immediately scoffing but you continue on, “It’s inappropriate and wrong and it is dirtying your image.”

He is completely aware of how loud he becomes this time, “I don’t care about my image!” His legs feel like jello from how terrified your words make him. You almost lose all your logic upon seeing his tall body collapse in on itself, his shoulders slumping and knees buckling as his world turns upside down. He looks like a frightened child and you want nothing more than to embrace him and tell him you didn’t mean any of it. But you have to. For you. For your family. For Satoru. You have to mean your next words. 

“I care, Satoru. I care that people think you might like me-”

“And what if I do?” His face is unusually red when he says this. You realized later after he walked away that this was his way of finally speaking the unspeakable out loud. The thing the both of you knew yet neither of you mentioned. The tension that turned the air thick and made it hard to breathe without him. He had revealed his heart that beat solely for you. 

“I don’t feel the same,” his world collapses at your words but he doesn’t show it. His face finally steels and his jaw sets. He says nothing. He gives you nothing. Choosing to walk away and get back on his horse rather than get on his knees and beg you to admit that you don’t mean the words you say. 

𝜗𝜚

His ride through the forest follows the same path; his horse jumping over the same thick roots in the ground and weaving through the tall trees that hid the estate from wandering eyes. Instead of the usual peaceful breeze of every ride he’s had before, the wind seems to knock the air from his lungs instead of filling them; causing him to cough and splutter as he desperately tries to fill his failing organs. His body racks with sobs and his tears hit the white mane of his favored horse. He doesn’t bother to wipe the snot from his nose when he can hardly keep himself steady; refusing to stop in fear he may lay down onto the earth and never arise again. 

Against his better judgment, Satoru’s body is found lying on the dank forest floor at around half past midnight. The servants sent out to find the Prince are in awe at the pitiful scene in front of them: laid flat on his back, staring up at the starry sky between tree branches, face swollen from hours of crying, and body shivering from the unforgiving temperatures of the night. They scoop him up without a fight and carry him back. He doesn’t bother to explain himself to the servants.

No one comes to visit him once he’s finally tucked into bed. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p4┊

taglist: @bubera974 𐙚 @dahliawarner 𐙚 @phoenixisdabest 𐙚 @designerpvssy 𐙚 @leaderwon 𐙚 @elilovesall 𐙚 @alicebleu 𐙚 @sleepykittycx 𐙚 @abcdbleh 𐙚 @waka-babe 𐙚 @fanficsforkicks 𐙚 @boothillglazer 𐙚

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[ghostlyvoidbones]

Sonadow Lovebug AU - Pt. 3

a/n: Right so I have no excuses. It started- it started... look this chapter was supposed to be simple with just a teensy bit of action. I don't know what happened. I got flustered. Just take it. Take it and don't look at me-

summary: Sonic is made aware of Shadow's... situation. He's just as confused. Then he is flustered. Shadow is completely lost in the sauce.

contains: Shadow's drug induced delusions, dubious consensual light touching, uncomfortable situation, one sided affections, unwilling affection (given and received).

wc: 3K

Rouge’s phone call to Sonic had been short and… telling.

She’d asked Sonic if he and Shadow were dating and the answer she got was a resounding no. She even made sure to ask four times just to make sure. She’d only stopped when Sonic cut her off to check if she was feeling alright or if she was in danger. 

It was safe to say that whatever happened yesterday, it was definitely doing something strange to Shadow. Which made the situation all the more urgent.

Clad in her usual outfit, Rouge made her way back to the living room, careful to keep a calm exterior. She would not be bringing up the phone call with Sonic. After all, based on Shadow’s previous reaction to her poking at the subject, it seemed like a smart idea not to mention it.

Shadow was exactly where she’d left him earlier, a deep set frown on his face as he looked down at his phone screen.

“Everything alright?”

“I can’t find any pictures on here either.”

“Right. You can worry about that later, right now we have work to do.” She sidestepped to be next to him, hand perched on her hip. “Do you remember where you were yesterday when you had that dizzy spell?”

He did look up for that one “Yes. I was with Sonic.”

Rouge had to physically fight the urge to face palm. Now that she had a vague idea of what was going on, she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice how weird Shadow had been acting since earlier. Instead she let out a soft sigh, rolling her shoulders and redirecting the conversation back on topic.

Hopefully this wouldn't be a common trend throughout the day.

“No, as in the location. Do you know the coordinates?”

Shadow drooped minutely at the subject change. “I do.”

“Wonderful, let’s start there.”

Shadow nodded and tucked his phone away, pulling out his favored chaos emerald in its place. Rouge braced herself for the swooping feeling in her gut and prickling buzz of teleportation as Shadow called out ‘chaos control.’ The fuzz in her vision lasted for half a second and she blinked it away, expecting to see trees or a grassy hill.

What she got instead was a face full of Sonic the Hedgehog.

Sonic blinked at the newcomers from where he sat on the couch of his own living room, a spoon held up halfway to his open mouth. Rouge knew her expression mirrored the hero’s, and even more infuriatingly, she knew that the hedgehog beside her wasn’t phased in the slightest.

They needed to get this issue with Shadow’s head taken care of. Like now.

“Uh… hey guys.” Sonic gave them a small wave, confusion evident in his lopsided smile. “Nice of you to drop in?”

“Hmmm, yes.” The strained smile Rouge returned came off as more of a pained grimace. “One second.”

With that, she twisted around, snatching Shadow by the shoulder and yanking him along with her. Scooting forward a bit further away, she pulled him down into a huddle.

“Shadow, I know for a fact you never went to Sonic’s house yesterday. Which begs the question; why are we at Sonic’s house right now?!” She hissed out, piercing her friend with a searing glare.

Not that it bothered Shadow in any way. The hedgehog in question was blatantly trying to twist his head back around to look at Sonic.

“I told you I was with Sonic. I was reminded of it so I must have unintentionally imagined being where he is now instead of where we’d been yesterday.” Rouge gaped at him. “That works well enough. Sonic can come with us.”

It was then that Rouge realized this wasn’t going to work out. With Shadow being like this, there was no way he was going to be able to get anything done. So, throwing caution to the wind, she straightened back up and turned to face the blue blur.

“Sonic, I need your help.” 

At the serious tone of her voice, lacking her usual teasing lilt, Sonic placed his bowl down on the coffee table in front of him and stood up. “Sure, what do you need?”

“Shadow said that he had a dizzy spell when he was with you yesterday and I think something… weird happened to him. Can you tell me where you both were when that happened?”

Recognition fluttered across his features. “Oh! Yeah, after we finished our race, right?” He addressed Shadow at that part who nodded dumbly, gaze transfixed by every single motion Sonic made. “I think we were on top of that one hill by the loop-de-loop. The one with the daffodils.”

“Okay, I know where that is. Thank you.” Rouge began making her way over to one of the windows, fiddling with the latch and pulling it open.

“No problem, but uh… what’s going on with Shadow, exactly?”

“He’s delusional. We were supposed to go together but now we’re here instead. Whatever happened yesterday messed with his head and he can’t think straight.” She paused for a second, coughing through a small chuckle. “Since he clearly can’t do any investigating himself, do you think you can keep an eye on him until I come back?”

“Uh, sure? What kind of delusional are we talking about here?”

She only gave him a pitying look. “Oh, right. Call Tails, we might need his Science know-how to figure out what’s going on with Shadow.” Then she was out the window without another word.

Deciding to just go with it, Sonic turned back to Shadow, trying to figure out where the issue was. He was slow to realize that Shadow hadn’t taken his eyes off him since the two G.U.N. agents got there.

“Everything alright there, Shadow? Rouge looked pretty stressed out.”

“I told her I was perfectly functional.” Shadow lightly shook his head, casting a brief frown at the window Rouge left from. “She’s being dramatic because I failed to inform her about every little thing that goes on in my private life.”

“That doesn’t really sound like Rouge.” Sonic tapped his chin in thought. “What kind of thing was it?”

He asked because he was curious, despite knowing full well that Shadow’s response would be along the lines of ‘none of your business hedgehog.’ Only to be pleasantly surprised at the genuine answer he received.

“She accused me of lying about our relationship.” Shadow huffed out a displeased sound. 

“What did you say to her about it that she got so suspicious of you?” Sonic raised a brow, a smirk playing on his muzzle.

Shadow sighed. “I let it slip that we’re romantically involved.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“I’m sorry,” Sonic began, after a while of trying to get his jaw unstuck, “we’re what?”

“In a romantic relationship.” The statement was delivered in Shadows' usual deadpan tone. A part of Sonic felt like he heard a joke, and admittedly a very strange one. But the serious look on the other’s face made it clear that it was anything but.

“Shadow… we’re not… dating.” Sonic said, slow and careful. Unless he’d missed something extremely important, he was pretty sure that was the truth.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed on him, nose scrunching up and gloved hands balling into fists at his sides. “Yes we are, Sonic. At the very least, I thought you would know that.”

“I thought I would know that too.” Sonic mumbled under his breath, “Which is why I’m so confused right now.”

Rouge had mentioned that Shadow was delusional, but this? It felt a bit too much, even for him.

Sonic knew Shadow was a good guy at heart. After all, he saved people almost as much as Sonic did, even though he wasn’t the type to talk about it. But the thing was, Sonic also knew that Shadow greeted him with a fist to the face over a friendly wave one too many times for their relationship to be anything even remotely close to something so emotionally intimate as dating.

Going over all their past interactions in his head, he couldn’t pinpoint a single time where they’d talked about being together. Even Sonic’s attempts at being friends never ended well. And this definitely wasn’t the sort of thing Shadow would ever joke about, so Sonic quickly understood why Rouge was so thrown off. Her earlier phone call made a lot more sense too, now what he thought about it.

And if this was someone messing with Shadow’s head, why make him think he was dating Sonic? Why make him think he was dating anyone in general?

Sonic eased up. Shadow wasn’t in his right mind, but that was ok. He said he’d help and he meant it. And despite how heavily in denial Shadow was about it, Sonic still saw them as friends and wouldn't leave him stranded in a situation like this.

“Hey, uh… I’m gonna go get Tails real quick. I can see Rouge was right, something’s obviously going on, so I think he’d be a big help. I’ll just run out, grab him, and come right back, okay?” Sonic pinned an easy smile on his face while jutting a thumb over his shoulder at the front door.

Shadow took an immediate step forward toward Sonic, red eyes fixed on the blue hedgehog with sharp clarity. “I’ll go with you.”

Sonic unconsciously took a step back. “You really don’t have to do that. You know me, I’ll be back in a flash! You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Shadow followed, one step closer. “I can keep up, if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t see why I need to wait here for you.”

 “Seriously Shads-” Shadow’s ear flicked at the nickname, Sonic now holding his hands up in a somewhat placating gesture. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Another step forward. “You’re avoiding me.”

A step back. “No, I’m not!”

So close, a hand reached out and fingertips nearly grazed blue fur. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one acting-” The back of Sonic’s knees hit the corner of the coffee table and it almost made him buckle to the floor. Instead, his feet tripped over themselves and he stumbled.

In one, fluid movement, Shadow’s gloved hands glided along the fur of Sonic’s arms, stopping beneath his elbows to help him correct his balance. The hold was firm and Sonic felt it when they slid up to gently squeeze his forearms. 

“If you’re going to avoid me, at least be careful not to hurt yourself when you do it.”

Sonic’s fur stood on end and he pushed out of Shadow’s grip. He rounded the coffee table to stand on the opposite side, keeping the low piece of furniture between the two of them.

“Y’know what? I think I’ll just call him.”

Spinning around with his back to Shadow, Sonic pulled out his phone and frantically dialed Tails’ number. He refused to turn and look at the other hedgehog and tried to brush off the feeling of eyes burning holes into his back from behind him.

Breathing out a sigh of relief when the call went through, he spoke quickly to the voice on the other end.

“Heyyyyy bud! I’m at my place right now and I’m gonna need you over here pronto. Yeah. No, Shadow’s here too, uh- Rouge thinks Shadow’s been… Look, somethings up with him and we’re really hoping you might have something that can help work out what’s going on.” He caught the low scoff from behind him and pressed on. “So if you could come by as soon as you can that would be- yeah, yeah that sounds great! Thanks Tails, knew I could count on you. See you in a bit.”

When the call ended, Sonic finally dared to look back over at Shadow. He’d managed to also circle round the table and get closer to where the hero stood, but he wasn’t so close that he was in danger of invading Sonic’s personal bubble.

“Honestly, you’re being ridiculous.” His features settled on something neutral, arms crossed as he held Sonic’s gaze, but there was a twinge of irritation there. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we should be able to work this out with having others interfering.”

“I’m being ridiculous?” Sonic eyed him warily, paying close attention to Shadow’s body language. “Shadow, why do you think we’re dating?”

The dark hedgehog was painfully unamused but seemed willing to entertain Sonic’s sudden denial of their relationship.

“I don’t know, perhaps the numerous dates? The special occasions we’ve celebrated together? Or maybe even the multitude of private moments we’ve shared? That all sounds pretty self explanatory to me.” There’s a bite to his words, brought out further by the way Shadow practically bared his teeth while he spoke.

Yup, Sonic can confidently say that he can’t remember doing any of those things. Whatever it was that made Shadow believe they were together was definitely doing its work. Especially if he’d not only just re-contextualized old memories but also, from what it sounded like, created brand new ones that never actually occurred.

Right now, all he could do was hope that Rouge managed to find a lead. And with Tails help, they should be able to start working on a solution to get Shadow back to normal. Not that having a Shadow that likes him isn’t nice, but the sudden affection and responsibility of a relationship was something Sonic really wasn’t prepared to handle.

Besides, all of these thoughts and memories are happening against Shadow’s will. He was pretty much manipulated by some external force into believing he was close and intimate with someone he wouldn’t be with outside of its influence. Deep down, Shadow could probably still recognize that and feel horrified at it. He wasn’t someone who liked being vulnerable with others and this was violating that part of him.

Sonic’s jaw tightened, sympathy swirling in emerald green eyes as he thought about what this situation meant for Shadow. Letting out a sigh, he closed the gap between them to place a comforting hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Listen. I don’t really know what’s doing this to you buddy, but I promise we’ll figure this out.” Sonic gave him a reassuring smile, thinking it would help ease his friend at least the tiniest bit. 

Although, he couldn’t tell if it was working with the other’s frown still firmly in place.

“I’m not your buddy.” Shadow gritted out lowly, almost spitting out the word ‘buddy’ like it personally offended him. His hand reached up to rest over where Sonic’s still sat on his shoulder. “And your nonsense is starting to get on my nerves.”

With a swift, smooth tug, Shadow pulled Sonic closer. Sonic’s breath caught as he fell forward, their chests bumping and faces so close he could smell the strong scent of lavender drifting from the ebony of Shadow’s fur.

“If you weren’t so cute, I’d do something about it.” 

Shadow's voice, with its rough and deep timbre, rumbled in Sonic’s ear and made it swivel away from the invasive sound. Even if hadn’t heard it, he felt the vibrations from his chest. Then the hand that wasn’t holding Sonic’s captive in the air came to rest on his waist, curling into the blue fur just below Sonic’s rib cage.

A violent shiver rippled through him and his face burned. The resulting flush turned the peach of his muzzle a whole shade darker.

“Woah-ho-ho okayyy. H-hey, let’s maybe calm down a bit there.” Sonic couldn’t help the way his voice pitched up nervously. He tried to carefully pull out of Shadow’s grip only to feel it tighten.

“I am calm.” Shadow certainly sounded like it, which really wasn’t helping. “Now tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

Sonic’s senses were full of lavender, gunpowder, and a faint undercurrent of coffee. He could feel the warm brush of breath against his cheek and his head spun so fast it rivaled the dizziness he experienced after going a few rounds through the loop-de-loop.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

“Sonic-”

“Fine.”

Sonic ripped himself out of Shadow’s grip, leaving the darker hedgehog’s hands hovering in the air where they once held onto him. The deep breath Sonic took was that of a drowning person getting their first gulp of air after escaping a powerful ocean current.

“Fine, ok. Yes, yeah, I am. But it’s because you’re-” His hands floundered around. “I’m uncomfortable. And I’m not… the biggest fan of the situation we’re in right now. There, happy?”

“Not really. I don’t feel particularly good when you’re upset.” Shadow’s brows furrowed, arms finally dropping back down to his sides. “What ‘situation’ are you talking about? You’re still not telling me what’s going on.”

And if Sonic were to consider things from Shadow’s perspective, that was a fair argument to make. Which made this all the more difficult. Especially when ‘we were never dating’ doesn’t seem to be cutting it as a reason on its own.

“This, Shadow, you- I’m not used to you being so… affectionate? Clingy?” Shadow huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes.

“I am not clingy.” Sonic pointed to where Shadow had subtly started trying to reach for him once again. “That doesn’t count. I’m trying to keep you from running away from me.”

Sonic threw his arms up in the air. “I’m literally not going anywhere! I can’t leave because I’m waiting for Tails to get here! So I can tell him what’s going on! Because I don’t even know what’s going on!”

Shadow’s advances stopped. A flicker of concern passed over his face as he watched Sonic grow more and more frazzled with each sentence that came out of his mouth. A look that was unusual on the usually carefree hero.

“I think you should sit down. You’re getting worked up and I’m concerned you’re going to pass out.” Shadow’s tone was light and it helped bring the blue hedgehog back from the near panic he’d started spiraling into.

Sonic took a deep breath and gave a slow nod of his head. “Y’know what? Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”

Rubbing the ridge of his muzzle to try dispelling the oncoming headache blooming behind his eyes, Sonic headed over to the couch. He swiveled on his foot and let himself fall back onto the cushions, to immediately find something was out of place. Staring up at the ceiling, he took note of how he was supposed to be more far back than this.

“Shadow.”

“Yes, Sonic?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting with you. Obviously.”

“Right. I meant, why am I on your lap?”

“Because it’s more comfortable this way.”

Sonic didn’t even jump when he felt those familiar arms snaking across his stomach and locking him in place. His back was pressed to the soft white fluff of Shadow’s chest fur and the scent of lavender returned to tease at his nose.

“There’s so much room on this couch Shads. You can literally sit anywhere and still be next to me without having us be on top of each other like this.”

“But you wouldn’t be in my arms then, would you.” Shadow commented loosely, tucking his face into the safe spot between Sonic’s shoulder and his quills.

Sonic smothered his own face into his gloves, curling as far forward and away as his current position would allow. 

“This is not how I wanted to spend my Saturday.”

*

When Tails finally arrived not too long after, needless to say the sight that greeted him was a shock. The fox would never forget the pitiful little ‘help’ Sonic directed his way as he was being cuddled on the couch by a very content looking Shadow.

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[captain039]

PART 8 The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, corruption kink, reader in her 20s, long-haired Viktor, possessive Viktor, obsessive Viktor, angst

Previous part <-

Dearest reader, it seems our little wallflower of the season not only captured the duke's eyes but has now been seen with a certain Councilwoman, is this all a ruse to climb her way up the social ladder? Or is our little wallflower going to stay a wallflower?

You’ve been ruined, your name ruined, and your body now touched by a man you’re not even married to, what are you going to do? Confess? Live your life as a scandalous spinster and live off in the woods like a witch?! You can’t get his face out of your head, you can’t keep replacing his fingers with yours to chase that high, you crave his body, his slender skilful fingers, you crave his voice, you crave all of him. You feel like you’re going off the rail, if you keep acting like this you’re sure your mama or papa will send you away to knock some sense into you. Every hour of every day you crave him, it’s… maddening. You don’t even know his favourite colour, his favourite food, you don’t know what he likes to do for fun, does he go hunting? Go to the club? Races? Does he even ride? You’re so caught up in your thoughts you barely register anything, your lady maid dressing you, getting in the carriage, arriving at the ball, one minute you were being corseted the next you’re amongst people. You feel sick, physically, you can’t keep doing this, feeling like your whole world is a lie and he’s the only truth you can find. You can’t think properly! Everything is so muddled! Out of place, it’s all -

There’s a hand on your shoulder, slender, cold from the night air and you sigh closing your eyes, mouth parting slightly as the world fades out.

“Dance with me” it’s softly asked, only for your ears and you nod feeling his hand slide down your arm to take your hand before leading you to the dance floor. You don’t know yourself, not anymore, this world is a big game and you’re just an insignificant piece of nothing.

“Look at me” his voice is like a distant echo, and so is everyone else but he’s closer, so close… you look up at him, those golden honey-brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you’re not careful. His arm around you is a steady weight, his slender hand now warming up with your body and the dancing. You spin around with the other ladies before being pulled back into him and you sigh your eyes looking at his tie instead. He’s so close, his breath fanning your head and hair, his body heat mingling with yours, far too close for an innocent dance. Are you even innocent anymore? Mind corrupted by, him… you wanted it, you wanted it so bad for him to corrupt you, to change your way of thinking but he just left you, abandoned you while your brain was fuzzed and not thereafter he laid his hands on you. Anger rises in your chest and you frown suddenly, he left you, and ran off like he knew he committed such a scandalous act, but he still did it. Your movements become stiff and when the dance ends you don’t bow, you turn away and you walk out. You leave to get fresh air and not slap a gentleman in public.

He’s hurt you. He sees it, sees the corruption swirl in your eyes, sees the panic and tenseness of your body as you barely notice anyone around you. He shouldn’t touch you but he needs to, his hand resting on your warm shoulder, the way you sigh and close your eyes, he watches your mouth part slightly and he has the urge to grab your face and correct it because that face is only for him. He’s not subtle, not with you, he doesn’t care, let the city talk he’s had enough of being alone, he needs you, he needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his. He watches when you get angry, the frown on your face when you realise he’s hurt you, the way you stiffen ready to strike him. He won’t blame you, he wants you to hit him, snap at him, cause as scene as long as he gets to hear your voice and feel your wrath. You leave though, sensible always the sensible young lady, and he the duke looking to corrupt her. He follows you sees your chest heave, watches your breasts press against the fabric of your dress hungrily, even in your anger you are a goddess, flushed face tense set jaw narrowed eyes, he’ll gladly kneel in front of you and hand you a knife if it’ll make you happy. You face him, he can picture the fire flaring in your eyes. You snap at him, quiet hushed words but he doesn’t listen, he manages to get something like defiled, abandoned and marriage, that word makes him frown, why would you say that word? He focuses, his ears finally working but it’s too late your hand is meeting his face in a harsh sound and he lets out a low groan. He holds his cheek, you’ve got strength more than he realised. His eyes flicker to yours he’s not holding back his emotions. He watches you jolt, take in a breath and blink a few times. He knows you don’t understand quite fully but he’s hungry, he’s hungry for you, he desires nothing but you, his breeches are confining and this place is too open.

“Say something!” You whisper hiss, but he doesn’t, he just stares at you, licks his lips and lowers his hand from his now-red cheek. He stalks closer, his limp somehow making him more menacing. His fingers brush against your cheek and you frown and stutter before his lips are on yours. Your eyes are wide and you're pushing him back but he won’t relent, he kisses you passionately, his hands cupping your neck his thumb under your chin forcing your head back slightly. You let out a gasp when he does and his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with yours. You panic, you’re too out in the open, you bite his tongue and he hisses pulling back. He swallows his eyes narrowing and you taste his blood on your teeth. He pants his hands tightening around your neck as he leans his forehead against yours. You make a small sound like a whimper of emotion and he hushes you gently his arms wrapping around you, one hand cradling your head and the other around your shoulders. You struggle initially before you feel yourself cry, your arms wrap around him, and you feel the brace against his lean frame and grip his jacket. He holds you tightly his chin resting on your head he sighs and makes an annoyed noise making you hold onto him tighter. You pull apart when you hear voices and let out a gasp.

“Go” you whisper and he looks pained but goes off. You pretend to fan yourself as a few people leave the party giving you a friendly wave. You breathe in relief and sneak back into the party your mind reeling once again.

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