#white's just a really creepy color I think

[sadrockandwaltzes]

In the Lap of the Gods

Being this much of a f#ck up ought to be a skill. Unfortunately, I fear that even in that I am mediocre

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Tim Encounters a Fae at a Gala

Which may be a problem, yes, but the much more alarming part? The Fae looks like Damian.

"This is pretty boring, don't you think?"

The voice comes from behind, and Tim recognizes it instantly, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's never heard Damian talk like this, easy and a little amused, with no usual stiffness to his speech. Yet this couldn't be anyone else - being a vigilante means you can never drop your guard even in your civilian identity, and who other than Damian could have sneaked up on him?

He turns around.

It is Damian, and at the same time, it's not. The boy looks just like the demon child, the same face, same height and skin tone, the same way he puts his hair. But something is wrong. The way he holds himself, his relaxed and almost lazy posture, the absence of a usual scowl on his face, the way he feels comfortable here, in a crowd of people.

And his eyes, when he looks at Tim. Icy blue, almost translucent, like the color of icebergs and glaciers.

The not-Damian tilts his head a little and smiles just slightly. Tim blinks, realizing that there was a question, and he just stares at the boy instead of answering.

"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat and breaks the eye contact, looking away from not-Damian's eyes, his thoughts a frantic mess. Is this another clone? Or some kind of a shapeshifter? In any case, they approached Tim first, he can't lose his chance at gaining some information. So Tim smiles back, "Is it your first time? At the gala, I mean."

Now, when he looks at the boy again, the stricking resemblance doesn't hit him so hard. Instead, Tim notices something else - the boy is... eerily beautiful. He's never noticed Damian looking this nice - because that would be kind of creepy if he did, - but this not-Damian is... He can't really put it into words.

He's just beautiful.

Almost unnaturally so.

"You could say that," not-Damian answers, looking over the crowd around them, "I'm not used to so many people around, but I've seen my fair share of social gatherings."

Tim blinks. That statement compiled with his absolute lack of any kind of nervousness makes little sense.

Alright, he needs to get at least some information from the mystery twin. He is a detective, for god's sake.

"Are you here with someone?" That can be a useful question. Tim sure as hell knows that Bruce could not invite some Damian lookalike without prior warning, which means the boy had to come as someone's plus one. Or he sneaked in with no invitation, that's also a possibility.

"My godfather should be here somewhere," not-Damian nods, scanning the crowd before nodding his chin in the direction of a small cluster of people. Tim follows his gaze and finds a white-haired man in a matching white and silver suit in the middle of telling some kind of story.

"Vladimir Masters?" He questions with a noticeable amount of disbelief. The man never said a word about having a godson. Ever. And Tim did a thorough background check on the owner of DalvCo.

"Got it in one," not-Damian grins. Is it just Tim, or do his teeth really look sharper than they are supposed to?

Come to think of it, his ears are also not as round as they should be.

Unnatural beauty, sharp teeth and pointy ears, questions answered in a vague and unclear way. And Tim hadn't noticed him blink even once.

He has a guess. He doesn't like it, it's a very, very bad guess, but Tim is a Bat, a Robin, and a Detective. He knows when he needs to trust his gut even if his gut is telling him absolute nonsense.

He just needs to make sure.

Tim swallows the anxious feeling in the back of his throat and turns back to not-Damian, smiling:

"I think I didn't catch your name?" He does his best at sounding confused and not alarmed. The boy's grin widens just a bit, but Tim feels a cold shiver run down his back, and his mind is all but screaming for him to run away for this is not human, and whatever it is, it is dangerous.

"Would you give me yours in exchange?" The boy's voice is soft and easy, not a hint of mischief. Just a casual question. Maybe a little teasing.

Tim's blood runs cold as he tries to remember everything he has ever read and heard about the fair folk. Never give them your name, but there has to be a way to answer this question, right?

"You may call me Damian," he finally answers. Maybe this is a risk, calling himself his brother's name, but Tim feels like this is somehow a right thing to do since the boy - the creature - looks like him.

Not-Damian's eyebrows shoot up, and there's a hint of surprise in his eyes when he starts quietly laughing. The heavy pressure of the air around him disappears at the sound of the crystalline laughter, like it was never there. Tim feels like he had just disarmed a bomb or passed a test with his own life at stake. Maybe he actually did.

"Clever," the boy grins again and nods politely, bowing his head down like they are at a medieval ball and not a gala, "My name is Danny. It is nice to meet my brother's brother."

| <-prev | next-> |

[togenabi]

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 

“Because they were overbored!” 

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 

“I’d like that.” 

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

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[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass."｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, Bullying

Color indicator: Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Another dull morning, you think to yourself, rolling over to turn off your alarm. You pick up your cellphone and blearily swipe your screen as you clamber out of bed. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you really didn’t notice anything was wrong until you stood up and looked in the mirror. You blink, poking at you face and staring where your reflection should be, but isn’t. You wave your hand in front of the mirror. Nothing.

You look around, only to realize that your surroundings are different, too. The room you’re in is plain, cramped, and completely devoid of character. It’s almost liminal, in a way. Eerie in its emptiness. 

You need to get out of here. 

You nervously reach for the door and twist the handle. The doornob moves with you, but the door remains fixed in place. Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket, quickly turning it on. You’ve gotten a text, but the number is blank.

You have not chosen an avatar yet. Please choose one from the mirror before leaving your room.

Well, that woke you right up. Is someone watching you? You swerve your head around, checking the ceilings and corners for cameras. You try the door again. You go in circles, turning the whole room upside down. You try the door. Nothing. You check your phone. The same message appears as soon as you open it. You swipe it away out of habit, but it refuses to budge. Freaky. The time hasn’t changed since you woke up, either, though you’re sure you’ve been at it for more than fifteen minutes by now.

You decide to take a peek at the mirror again. You try to remove it from the wall to look behind, but your vision goes white the second you make contact with its’ surface. Your vision clears, and in front of you is a grey figure of ambiguous gender. It looks almost made of clay. Your phone buzzes.

Player avatar selection. 

Select a sex. Sex cannot be changed after starting the game.

1.) Male 2.) Female 3.) Hermaphrodite

Well, you’ve either fallen asleep or been drugged. Not knowing what else to do, you choose female, watching in horror and fascination as the figure morphs to accommodate your choice. 

>Next

Other customization options soon come up. You give the figure your ideal height, weight, and features. You change her skin tone, hair color, texture, and eye color. You watch as she slowly comes to life as your ideal. The person you’ve always wanted to be. 

Your phone buzzes just as you finish touching her up.

Set Name

You’re about to name her when the text fills itself in with your name instead.

Welcome, [First]! 1. Start Game!

You grimace, and hit play.

—————————

When you come to, it’s 07:00 again, and you’re still in that room. You glance at the mirror, only to see your avatar glancing back. You wave your arm in front of it, and she mimics your movements perfectly. You make a lewd gesture, and she does, too. Creepy. Is this really a dream? You’re startled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzes once again.

Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!

If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad. 

The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!

1. Next

Your face pales as you read the text. There’s no way. You hit next, reminding yourself that you’re only in a dream, and that no one can harm you in a dream. Your phone opens to its home screen, where you see various apps, some of which are labled.

-Characteristics -Social -Traits -Journal -Stats -Feats

You open characteristics and take a look. At the very top is a color chart indicator. description of your body’s appearance and condition, underneath are familiar stats.

Purity: 7/7 You are angelic. Physique: 3/6 Your body is average. Willpower: 1/6 You are fainthearted. Awareness: 3/7 You have a normal understanding of sexuality. Promiscuity: 0/6 You are chaste and pure.  Exhibitionism: 0/6 You are coy. Deviancy: 0/6 You are squeamish.

Everything seems to be in line with the stats for the beginning of a playthrough. Everything except one.

Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure.

That’s…not good, if the blaring red is anything to go off of, anyway. 

You scroll down. Your skills are all ranked as F, which is actually better than the “None” stat they usually start as. That’s weird, but you aren’t complaining. Your sex skills, however…are all at C. That’s super weird! You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you choose to ignore it instead. 

Your overall school performance is terrible, with F’s all around the board. In real life, this would mean you’d picked the athlete trait, but your physique is baseline, and your athletic stat is also at F, so it can’t be that. It must just be inconsistencies from being asleep, you reason. That’s why your stats are all over the place.

Your status is normal, aside from your allure. Which is maxed out at “You look like you need to be ravaged.” You shudder.

You check traits. You have two.

Alien - You aren’t from around here! RPG like elements have been incorporated into your reality for a smoother experience.  Virgin - Your purity recovers faster. Your virginity might be worth something.

You open your journal. 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence.

Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

You turn your phone off and look around. Everything seems normal, too normal. You read somewhere once that it’s impossible (or perhaps just very difficult) to read clearly while in a dream. Could you have been drugged? Or did you take something and then forget about it?

You pinch yourself. Ow.

Well, that’s not solid proof. People have reported cases of feeling pain in dreams before it’s just kind of really rare is all. Or, or! Maybe you’re not dreaming. Maybe you’re dying. Maybe you got into an accident somewhere, and now you’re in a coma. People hallucinate during comas, don’t they? 

You pinch yourself, again. 

It’s not real.

…You might as well see what this quest is about.

You leave your bedroom, and walk to Bailey’s office. You don’t question how you know the way there. You knock on the door and enter. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. “You want me to release you from my protection, so you’ll be an independent citizen. I could do that. But there’s a problem. You’ve been living under my roof without giving anything in return. You owe me. Until you pay me back, I’m not letting you go.” He picks up an envelope and flips through it. Dozens of identification documents are stored within it. One of them is yours. “£100 should do. To start with. I don’t care how you get it. Knock on doors and ask for work. Rent yourself as a footstool. Steal it, even. Just have it a week from now. Or I’ll find a way to extract value from you.”

You nod and leave his office, returning to your room.

Your phone buzzes as soon as you close the door. 

Quest completed. New quest added to journal. View Now? 

Y/N

You hit yes. 

Time-Sensitive:

Bailey wants £100 on Sunday. Find a job and free yourself from his clutches. 

That’s great and all, but maybe you shouldn’t leave the orphanage today…or ever. Not until you wake up. You decide to just download some social media apps and scroll for the rest of the day instead. You scroll until midday, when you’re stopped by your stomach growling. Can you get hungry inside a dream…? You feel uneasy as you climb off the bed. Your neck hurts from the uncomfortable position you had been in, but that’s the least of your worries right now. 

You leave your bedroom and enter the main hall. A trim girl happens to be passing by your door, so you stop her and ask about when lunch is. She looks at you strangely. 

“Whenever you want…? Just go somewhere and get it. I don’t know.” 

“I meant here, can we get food here?” 

“Sure, if you’re underage. We have to provide for ourselves once we reach eighteen, though. You know that. Everyone knows that.” She leaves in a hurry. You go back to your room to watch “Gootube” videos. It’s not as pornographic as it sounds. 

You stay on your phone for the rest of the day. It never seems to run out of charge. Finally, you turn it off and climb under the covers. You don’t bother to wear pajamas. You sleep soundly, and wake up at 07:00 on Sunday, September 4th. 

Wait, what? 

You look at your journal again. 

Journal 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence. Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

But you didn’t fail your quest! You completed it and…

It’s because you didn’t get a job yesterday, isn’t it? 

You sigh and climb out of bed. Off to visit Bailey again. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. God, you wish you could skip dialogue in real life. Or in dreams, you guess. Bailey wraps up his speech and you leave, this time heading outside the orphanage to look for work right after. 

As expected, you bump into someone almost immediately. A voluptuous woman grabs you. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen all week!” She says, lunging for your clothes. You step back, but she catches you, lifting your sundress’s skirt and revealing your lace panties. You try to grab her hand and pull it away, but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you to the ground, and you land painfully on the sidewalk. You let out an involuntary yelp as your elbows scrape on the pavement. Is she really going to try and molest you out in public like this? It would appear so, as she’s currently straddling your legs with her knees, keeping them apart. You come to your senses when you feel a hand on your groin, and scream out for help. 

A taut man comes to your rescue, chasing off the woman and helping you to your feet. He treats your wounds and gives you a pepper spray charge. You thank him and go on your way. 

The dog pound is probably the best place to start with, you think to yourself while looking at the map on your phone. So you hop on a bus and wait for your stop, but not before a thin man sits next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You shuffle away from him, and he follows you. You stand up, and he does, too. No one else is paying attention. You quickly walk to the most crowded area of the bus and sit next to a plush woman. She doesn’t look happy, but doesn’t say anything, either. The thin man watches you from his seat. You reach your destination, and he moves to follow you when you stand. Luckily, a tall man stops him, giving you a thumbs up as he blocks the thin man’s view of you. You give him a grateful nod and step off. 

Your shift at the dogpound goes on without incident. Thugh the employees tried to get handsy more than a few times, they never took it further when you moved away. You even took your lunch break at the nearby cafe! You’re surprised by how much character the place had visually, considering it comes from a text-based game.

By the time the dog pound closes, it’s nighttime. You pale at the realization. It’s nighttime, and you’re in Degrees of Lewdity. Should you risk taking the bus? Or should you risk the streets? 

If you’re on a bus, you’re there for less time, but it’s an enclosed space. If you’re outside, there’s more places to run and hide. But hiding goes both ways. 

You elect to go through the streets, sticking to the places that are the most open and well-lit. You get home without incident, though you swear you saw something in the alleys. 

You collapse into bed and sleep for ten hours. 

—————————

It’s 07:03 when you wake up. You have school today, so you look through your wardrobe for your uniform. You find it, but…why is it so skimpy? Sheer tights, short plaid skirt, tight shirt, platform mary janes and loose socks. You put it on, but the shirt is so tight it won’t button all the way, leaving a sizable amount of your cleavage and lace bra visible. 

Speaking of which, aren’t you only supposed to start with plain underwear? Why is all of yours lace? And why does it clasp at the front? You spend twenty minutes looking for a jacket, different shirt, or other way to cover yourself, but find nothing. Bailey bangs on the doors around the orphanage to wake the orphans up. You sigh and put your clothes back into your wardrobe before leaving.

You bump into Robin on your way out. Literally. He nearly runs you over.

“Hey!” He says running towards you. He doesn’t slow down in time and plows right into you. You help him up. “Thanks,” he says, looking a bit bashful. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Remember, you can visit me in my room anytime you want. I have something to show you. I’m so excited!” He runs off, and you realize you’ve forgotten your backpack, so you head back in and find it. It takes you another ten minutes to realize you’d put it behind the door. By the time you’re ready, it’s already half an hour past seven. You decide to see if Robin is still in his room. 

You knock, and hear some crashing. Before you can ask if something’s wrong, Robin opens the door and hugs you. “Look,” he says, pulling you inside. Your eyes immediately land on the shiny new game console in the corner of the room. “I’ve been saving up,” he says. “What are you waiting for?” He pats the bed beside him and you hop on. You watch him play for a few minutes, and the two of you walk to school together. 

Though it’s literally your first time meeting him, you feel safer around Robin. Though you know he can’t fight to protect you, having someone by your side does a lot to ease the mind. Plus, he’s one of the only decent people in the game. You’re glad, but at the same time, you’re uneasy. You wonder if he notices you’re not his childhood friend. That you look like her, sound like her, but you aren’t her. You wonder if he’d hate you, should he find out.

“Is something wrong, [First]?” You snap to attention. 

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I’m okay,” you say. “I was just kind of busy yesterday, came home exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you know how it is.” You wave your hand dismissively at him as you pass the school gates. “Where are you heading? I’d like to go with you, if that’s alright. Since I didn’t see you yesterday, and all.” Really, you just don’t want to be alone here. But there’s no need to say that. 

Robin smiles, and the two of you hang out in the rear courtyard. It’s nice, but you can feel him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It makes you uncomfortable. Has he caught on? You excuse yourself and head to the library. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the other non-crazy person on campus. At least you won’t have to lie about your identity to Sydney. 

You walk over to the counter near the back of the library. A tall boy with a strawberry blonde ponytail and glasses is stamping books behind it. You smile as you approach him. “Good morning…” He says, yawning. “First time at the rental counter? You can rent out one book at a ti-” Sydney yawns.. “Time. You can also buy school-approved clothes here. Headmaster Leighton’s marked the prices way up, though. Students with a good record get special discounts.” He seems excited, though you can’t place why. 

“Books can be rented out for two weeks at a time. You can renew your rental at any time…” He looks down. You look down. Sydney has stamped his hand. You smile.”...Let’s call that a demonstration of what happens if you return a late or damaged book. My name’s Sydney, by the way! Pleased to meet you.” 

“I’m [First],” you respond. You and Sydney spend some time chatting. You notice that he’s oddly red. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask, raising a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Let’s get you to the infirmary!” 

“W-what? No, I’m okay…” 

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling him up by the forearm. You drag him to the infirmary, and he has to bend down to allow it. No one pays you much mind, though you’re sure you look a little silly, holding onto the forearm of someone much taller than you. You reach the nurse, who informs you that Sydney is perfectly healthy, though tells him to take a rest on one of the beds upon seeing the bags under his eyes.

“See?” He says, smiling. “I didn’t realize you were such a worrier.” You flush, embarrassed. Is pure Sydney supposed to tease people? His face softens. “Thanks…for worrying about me, though” he says, then checks the time. “You should probably get to class.” Right, you’d nearly forgotten you were at school. You thank Sydney for reminding you and leave as he waves you off.

You go to your science lesson. Despite your grade being at F, the lesson is actually pretty easy to follow, some of this you remember from your own highschool lessons. The bell rings and you leave the classroom, only to get shoved into a locker immediately. A boy with blonde hair covering one eye looms over you. You recognize him immediately. 

“Don’t get in my way again,” Whitney says, pressing his knee against your crotch. “Or I’ll put you in your place.” He releases you, but you know that won’t be the end of it. You hurry to math class, hoping Whitney will skip today. You’re tense for the first twenty minutes of class, but slowly begin to relax upon realizing Whitney probably isn’t going to show up. Nearly half an hour into class, the teacher River steps out for a moment. And with the kind of timing you’d only see in movies, Whitney waltzes in, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. You try to look away, but it’s too late. Whitney makes eye contact with you and grins. He walks over to the mousy girl sitting next to you. 

“Move,” he says. She does. You turn away from him, but he grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him.

This is unfair, you think to yourself. Whitney isn’t supposed to sit next to you unless you’re dating. Why now?

“Watcha lookin at, slut?”

This sucks. You want to go home. When is this dream supposed to end? 

Whitney tugs at your hair even harder. “I asked you a question, slut.”

How did you even get here in the first place? Did you really die? Were you in a coma? Whitney yanks your hair back so hard your body goes with it, creating an awful screeching sound as your chair lurches back. River walks in just in time to see you fall on your back. Whitney is sent out. He turns to make a penetration sign with his hands at you as he leaves. 

Math ends, and you head to English. There’s a crowd of students blocking your path. You peer over shoulders and heads to see the source of the commotion, and see a dark haired student on the ground, with two bullies standing over him. Your first instinct is Kylar, but you must be wrong. Kylar’s event shouldn’t happen until a week from now. 

You could try to help, but that would probably get you assaulted. Even if you didn’t, your fellow students would think less of you, leading you to getting picked on later, and potentially assaulted more and–

Fuck it, you can’t ignore this. You’re already shoving past students and blocking the bullies’ view of the student. “Leave him alone,” you say. “I won’t stand for this.” One of the bullies, a thin girl, shoves you down. 

“Sit, then!” She says, the audience laughs. You pick yourself up and ram into the thin girl and her friend. You knock her off-balance and she falls to the floor, screaming as soon as she lands. “You stupid bitch! You broke my tailbone!” The audience is laughing at her, now. Her friend is helping her up. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my fucking words!” You shiver. Hopefully no one notices. You turn to check on the boy they were harassing, only to nearly bump heads with him. You jump back, and the boy smiles apologetically. There’s something else in his expression, but before you can figure out what it was, you make eye contact with him, and the whole world goes dark.

Tousled black hair, short stature, sickly pale skin and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s Kylar. It has to be. “T-thanks,” he says. “I-I’m Kylar.” Your face drops, but you aren’t sure if he saw it before running off. The tips of his ears are red, you notice. You step towards the crowd, which is already dispersing. The remaining onlookers make way for you, though you feel a hand grope your butt as you leave. You turn, but no one’s there. 

You head into English class, already exhausted. Kylar watches you from the back. You ignore him. The plump boy sitting behind you sniffs your hair during the entirety of the lesson, so it’s hard to focus. You look down at your notes. It’s an unintelligible mess. Is this what it means to have a grade F in English, you wonder?

Finally, it’s lunch time. You head to the cafeteria, passing by the headmaster on your way there. You swear you saw him checking you out. You shudder and speed up. Upon reaching the canteen, you are presented with three options.

Robin is talking with some students at his table, they seem to be arguing.

Sydney is sitting alone, several piles of books surrounding him. 

Kylar is also alone, stabbing at his food with more violence than seems neccesary.  

Despite your self preservation instincts, you walk towards Robin to see what the commotion is. The lean boy is accusing Robin of ‘looking at him with disrespect’. Arguing with him would be pointless. So you do the next best thing and smile as you spit in his face. 

As expected, he doesn’t take it well, and pounces on you immediately. He tears open your shirt, leaving you only marginally more exposed than you already were. You scream loudly, and Leighton rushes in. You suppress a smirk.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” He shouts, pushing past students to find you exposed on the ground, the lean boy holding you down. He scrambles off of you, and you fix your uniform. The lean boy tries to explain, but Leighton cuts him off and sends him out. Robin helps you up. 

“Are you okay?! Why did you do that?” 

“I saw Leighton on the way over here. I figured if we caused a scene, he’d be the one to get in trouble for it.”

“Don’t do something like that again! That was really dangerous!” You nod, though you don’t really mean it. 

Kylar watches from across the canteen. +Jealousy

The rest of lunch passes without incident and you go to History with Robin. The two of you chat about his game before class starts. You learn some interesting things about the history of the town. Nothing happens during history, and you leave feeling refreshed. You navigate the halls to your swimming lesson and change. You keep your eyes down, but swear you feel the stares of your classmates. You think you hear a camera go off, but when you turn, no one’s looking at you. 

A taut boy follows you around the pool, and doesn’t stop trailing until the lesson is over. He keeps his distance, but it still makes you feel uneasy. The bell rings, and you don’t see him again. 

You meet up with Robin in the courtyard, but hesitate walking home when you see Whitney hanging out by the gate.

“Can we go out through the back?”

“The back? Why?” You nod your head towards Whitney and his friends, and Robin makes an ‘O’ with his mouth. “I don’t mind, but how will we get out?” You’re about to answer when a realization hits you. Right. You haven’t unlocked the tunnel outside yet, which means you can’t leave unless you climb the fence. 

“...Nevermind,” you say. “Maybe they won’t notice us.” You and Robin try to blend in with the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder quickly yanks you into the open.

“Hold it, slut.” Shit. “You didn’t pay the toll.”

You grit your teeth. “What’s the toll?” Whatever, you have twenty quid to spare.

“Flash us your tits.” There’s a crowd circling around you. You notice people pulling out their phones. 

“[First]...” 

“It’s fine, Robin.” You give him a strained smile as you unbutton your blouse. “Happy?” You ask, turning back to Whitney. 

“Not quite,” he says, grabbing the front of your bra and unclasping the hook. Your breasts flop out. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” You turn and quickly fix your bra, wishing it clasped at the back instead of the front like a normal bra. You and Robin speed away, then find a secluded ally to fix your shirt.

Finally home, you decide to check out some of the apps you didn’t bother with yesterday.

Social              

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Primary relationships: 

Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.           Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40%

You smile. It’s little different than the starting relationship in the actual game, but you’re slowly getting used to the inconsistencies. You’re about to look at the next box when your eyes are drawn back up to the pink text. Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean bad? You check the color chart to make sure.

But, why? Why is that bad? Isn’t it good? Or, is it because his confidence is low? Maybe the key word here is “wants”. Still, wouldn’t that count more as poor than bad? Whatever, no need to nitpick. You’ll check back in on it later. You move on.

…You almost move on. Why is his love so high? And his lust, too?! It’s gotta be a glitch, right? Right?

Right. You restart your phone and boot it back up. Nothing’s changed. You put that aside for now.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100%

Another different one. Also bad. Terrible, even. You aren’t even sure what to make of it. You just met him, and his lust is already maxed out. His love is also surprisingly high, though only half as much as Robin’s is. You make a mental note to sit in view of the teacher during math going forward.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90%

Another case of inexplicably high stats right off the bat, though you aren’t surprised with Kylar. You move on.

Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66%

Okay, you’re pretty sure those are all just angel numbers. Or, supposed to be angel numbers. It’s kind of hard to do that with only two numbers. Though 666 is actually more of a demonic number, it still fits the theme. Aside from the strange percentages, you’re also concerned by the question mark next to ‘faithful’, not to mention the fact that his purity is already so low he’s conflicted. You haven’t even flirted with him yet!

You glance at the other named NPC’s. They’re all unremarkable, full of “has no strong opinion of you” aside from two.

Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99%

Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85%

Your stomach lurches. Gross. You are absolutely repressing that shit.

You check your reputation next.

-The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. -The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. -You are considered a normal student by teachers. -Your fellow students desire you.

You grimace at the last one. You make a mental note to buy a more concealing uniform.

Finally, you have your fame. This one should be normal, right? You’ve only just gotten here.

Sex: Unknown Prostitution: Unknown Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown Exhibitionism: Unknown Pregnancy: Unknown Combat: Obscure Kindness: Obscure Business: Unknown Socialite: Unknown Overall: Famous

What?! Famous?! How does that— Ugh, forget it. You keep reading.

The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

…?

What…what does that mean?

—————————

Next>

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part three

646 words

one two

Eddie is wearing a white shirt. It wouldn’t be weird if Steve wasn’t so sure that the boy was allergic to color. 

Steve pauses his chewing. He turns to Carol where she sits next to Tommy across from him. “Is white a color?”

She looks at him in boredom. “It’s a mix of all of the colors.”

Steve shares a confused glance with Tommy before nodding slowly. “...Right.”

Anyway, his point stands - Eddie is wearing a white shirt. He also seems to be back in high spirits, and it wasn’t until Steve walked in and saw him in a heated discussion with his buddies at his table that he realized how much he missed the boy’s usual energy.

For as sure as he was that Eddie didn’t not want his notes, it’s relieving to know he’s probably fine. The realization draws him out of his head a bit and puts it all into a better perspective. The world doesn’t revolve around him. 

Over the weekend, Steve invites Tommy over to hangout and when he shows up, he has Carol with him. Steve idly wonders how long that’s gonna last. Tommy has been interested in her for a while. She made him work for it and honestly, Steve thinks they’re perfect for each other. 

He'd thought that whenever they made it official, that Tommy would be spending less time with Steve. If anything, though, the opposite is true. Tommy seems to hang around Steve more now than ever. He goes on and on about what he and Carol get up to, and Steve finds it kind of odd but assumes his friend is just excited. Still, Steve truly doesn’t need to know every detail from when Tommy and Carol hooked up under the bleachers. 

Steve has always gotten along with Carol in school. She’s a bit bitchy but that only means she can keep up with him and Tommy just fine.

The weekend isn’t half-bad but come Monday, Steve is revved up. He’s already had his note written for days. 

He delivers it without a hitch and excitedly waits. 

Eddie it’s hard to look away from you sometimes, i never would if i could get away with that without getting my ass kicked you don’t seem to care what people think about you or the things you like and i find that really impressive i wish i was more like you your books always look really interesting, do you have a favorite? -H

Steve wonders how hard it would be to get his schedule changed so he has at least one class with Eddie in the morning, too. 

Then he comes to his senses and realizes that would make him insanely creepy and weird. Which makes him wonder if he’s already doing that. 

He spirals. 

What if Eddie had looked so troubled because he doesn’t want to be receiving notes from some random person he doesn’t even know, what if the reason he seemed back to normal on Friday is because he’s resigned to live with the unwanted affection, what if he hasn’t even been reading the notes and he just tosses them immediately, what if, what if, what if.

He goes through his morning classes in a fog that only dissipates when he walks into the cafeteria and sees him.

Eddie is reclined in his chair with his ankles crossed and propped on the table in front of him. When Steve walks past him, he hears the boy whistling obnoxiously and rolls his eyes fondly. It's only when he takes his seat and risks another look that he spots the book in Eddie's hands. The boy is making a show out of reading it; he has the book so close that it's covering his entire face.

Steve thinks it's strange until he remembers his note this morning.

It turns out Eddie's favorite book is The Hobbit.

four

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[your-friendly-sociopath]

I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

[teddybeartoji]

office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

[molsno]

I find the notion that trans women's oppression is at least partially based on a systemic hatred of men and masculinity troubling for many reasons. the biggest reason, of course, is that misandry is not real no matter how you attempt to label or define it. but moreover, it's just flat out wrong.

it is true that many forms of transmisogyny consist of some form of misgendering. however, it's ludicrous to call it misandry just because the underlying implication is that the trans woman in question is really a man; if that were the case, then cis men and trans men would be subjected to the same oppression on the basis of their manhood. but no, the misgendering is always simply a cover for something else - something far more insidious.

if a trans woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's accused of demonstrating her "male socialization". she's told she's guilty of "mansplaining". when a trans woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of expressing "male entitlement" over them, and being "manipulative" and "controlling". when a trans woman is attracted to cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory". she's told she's being "misogynistic" by reducing women (cis women, or "real women" as is usually the implication in this scenario) to just their bodies and valuing them only for their worthiness as sex objects.

if you think about it, though, these arguments mirror regular old misogyny pretty closely! if a cis woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's a "bitch", she's "bossy". she's told she needs to "know her place". when a cis woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of being "crazy" and "obsessive". and indeed, when a cis woman is attracted to other cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory"!

so why, then, if these statements are really a form of misogyny, does the justification for them hinge on trans women's supposed "maleness"? the answer is simple: biological essentialism. this ideology, in no small part popularized in feminist and queer spaces by terfs, states that "biological males" are predestined by their very nature to prey on and dominate "biological females". and since trans women are "biologically male", it follows then that they are wolves in sheeps' clothing. any presumption of innocence or harmlessness is discarded, and trans women's actions are painted in a new light.

if you accuse a trans woman of being an infiltrator in women's spaces due to her supposed "maleness", then what you've effectively accomplished is the subjugation of an underclass of women. trans women are not considered deserving of respect, compassion, or dignity whatsoever. if you paint a trans woman as a threat to other women, then you can drum up as much outrage and violence against her as you want, and she will have no recourse. and the simple fact of the matter is that the easiest way to do this is to draw attention to her alleged proximity to "maleness".

perhaps you might be thinking that proximity to maleness being used as a justification for oppression implies that misandry actually is real. after all, aren't women of color, butch lesbians, and even black men also subjected to violence due to their perceived proximity to "maleness"?

I understand how one could make that mistake, but that notion fails to engage with the actual material reasoning behind the forms of oppression these groups face: they pose a threat to the cishet white man's absolute dominion. the root of these disparate but related forms of oppression, biological essentialism, is inherently a white supremacist, misogynistic, and conservative ideology. its purpose, much like its ilk, eugenics and phrenology, is to establish a hierarchy in society that places cishet white christian men at the top by asserting that they are inherently biologically superior to all others in every respect.

if you observe people's behavior, you can see that this ideology permeates almost every level of society. cishet white men are elevated to positions of authority without question; their motives are never scrutinized and criticized in the same way that trans women's are, or any of the other oppressed groups mentioned above. if one of these men is misogynistic, if he views women as mere sex objects to be controlled to suit his liking, he will not be punished for it; he is exercising the right that has been given to him by the society people like him have created through centuries of colonialism. even in queer spaces, men are regularly coddled, their misdeeds forgiven or excused for no real reason other than that many queer people have not questioned the assumptions they've internalized.

the notion that trans women are oppressed by misandry is laughable, really, because we are constantly made aware that, due to biological essentialism, TME people will always trust a man over us.

[deadbeat-motel]

ᐯᗩGGIE ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᕼᗩᖇᒪIE ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

These two are simpler than the angel dust design I did since I didn't have a lot to go off of. Posted on Valentine's Day because yes I can.

I don't think Charlie is significantly different from her Pilot design because I genuinely think it was the best design from the cast (before the redesign).

Thoughts below, though TW for the creepy charlie image at the end:

My issues with their Original designs:

Vaggie:

The giant "X" over her eye is really distracting and even world-breaking because

1. Why had no one put 2 and 2 together that the only character in Hell who has a visible 'X' mark on her face might be related to the angels who also sport that X mark on their faces.

2. Why is it shaped like an X? Her eye was taken out via a single slash.

3. If the hair's purpose was to cover it, why would it show through it? What's the point of the hair then?

The hair that was supposed to cover that wounded eye looked so ugly and confused as to what it should be doing. I mean every shot that showed that thing in a sideview shot of Vaggie felt like the animators had to make their own guesses as to how that was supposed to look like. It was distracting for me personally and I hated it so much.

It's been said over and over again, but her clothes look like she works at McDonalds. I get needing to change her outfit so that she looks like she works at the hotel, but it's just been poorly designed.

Why change her clothes' colors from white to red? the white helped her stand out from Hell and the Hotel's majority red background. (In the finale, she at least has a non-red attire)

She's also one of the very few women in HH and she falls under the skinny stick side of it despite being an angel exterminator.

Her hair is kind of hard to visualize looking at in any way other than what it is when it's static. However, when it changed into a ponytail or a bob, it's actually really nice to look at.

Unsure of what that bow's purpose is for the design.

Charlie:

Charlie is a simple but very confused design. The pilot design was a lot more coherent than the current show design

It's disappointing to see the bouncy Pilot hair go and be replaced by that boring bubble braid of all things.

Her undershirt peaks out of her tuxedo.... why???? to separate the top jacket and the pants? You wouldn't need to do that if her pants were a different color like the pilot design.

Thought about it and was confused, as a demon with an angelic father, why didn't she have wings as well? She didn't need the 6 wings like Lucifer but maybe a pair of one would appear?

Out of all the characters for the show's redesign, Her's was by far the MOST infuriating to me. Her pilot design wasn't perfect but it was good, they had to downgrade her for some reason.

I didn't have much to say about Charlie. it basically sums up to "the Pilot design was better".

On to the thought process for these two:

Valerie the fallen:

Yes, she got a rename. Sue me.

I had to remove the moth aspect of her design because it doesn't seem like it makes sense for a heaven-born to follow the sinner's rule of "gaining features based on the life you lived" since she basically never lived right?

In this redesign (and eventual rewrite), Valerie is not ashamed of her exterminator background. In fact, she was known as the most recent "fallen" in hell. her short stature doesn't make her less of a threat to the demons.

She's also visually thick with muscle because why not let one of the show's women have a body type that isn't stick-thin?

She's using the wings that were torn off of her as both an interesting article of clothing and as a way to remind others and her that she is (or more accurately 'was') an angel who could kill them if she wanted to.

Her clothes are pure black underneath the pale feathers to show that while she is an "angel", deep down, she is far from a good person.

She's also getting an actual skin color because from what I gathered myself from the show's heaven. Most of the souls there still retain a human appearance (Adam, Lute, St. Peter, and the other random human angels up there still look human..... but just don't mind the fact that most of them are white.)

Her hair is that ponytail she had in the finale because as much as I didn't like that episode, some designs looked actually decent.

Also, her hair actually covers the eye scar properly.

I wanted to keep her ribbon as a splash of brightness on her design but the OG ribbon looks a little out of place on a warrior so It became that (Plus it pays homage to her OG moth influence with its shape looking like the fluffy antennas of the moth)

Gave the spearhead a little bit of detail on it plus a chipped side so that it has a bit of charm as an old weapon she still decides to keep around.

A note about Valerie's design is that I haven't tackled the armor of angels yet so I was unsure of what pieces of the undesigned armor to give Valerie as of now.

Charlie:

I honestly actually enjoyed her Pilot hair, so I tried to put it back and also simplify it a bit so there are not a lot of strands for me to keep track of. Plus it was a genuinely cute design for her. (There's a reason that version was used in the Verbalase video.) <- I'M JOKING

Replaced her button nose with a goat's because a friend has commented how it looked like the noses of the women in a Goofy Movie and I will never be able to unsee that.

Her hair is also a lot brighter compared to her washed-out blonde color.

She has the same design thought process as Valerie, Covering the darkness of her true nature with white fluffy fur which is stylized like feathers at its ends. She has pitch-black skin underneath and looks like a proper nightmarish demon like the image below.

I ditched the tuxedo look, since almost all the cast has a similar outfit already, and gave her a jumpersuit instead. (Idk what it's really called but that's what I think it is). It's a light grey because she's a mix of bad and good (though a bright grey because she prefers to be on the good side)

Her horns are there and visible because yeah it's cute but also helps her read as the half-angel/half-demon character she is.

Tiny goat tail because can you imagine every time Valerie holds the rare angel smile of approval, her tail is visibly wagging in glee and excitement???? My heart would die. I love these lesbians with my life.

Has wings from her father.

Anyways, those are my thoughts and redesigns... I wanted to add more details to them but I didn't really know what to add that didn't feel unnecessary.

Also bonus! Concept art of Charlie's true form:

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm. 

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was  pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall. 

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library. 

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much. 

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist. 

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid. 

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.” 

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute. 

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse. 

[riskyraiker]

helloooo!! My request is kinda small, but can I request TFP decepticons reactions to a fem reader with a tiger alt mode?? (Colors are just white and black) she’s aggressive, but also gentle to ones she trusts and loves. Hope you don’t mind adding slight romance in it😓 Ty!<33

Reader with a tiger alt mode + the decepticons

Oh my god i love this😭🫶 btw there will not be anything about starscream except him hatin' predaking and reader :D since they're both like animals. Hope you enjoy!!

CW: there's a few dirty jokes so beware!! XD

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

Megatron

Finds you a good weapon in the battlefields ofc, but he does want you to be in best shape after every battle. Admires your strength to even defeat the last prime and almost eliminating him.

He rarely needs saving, but when you turned up, ripped optimus away from megatron, something lit up in him. The need of having you.

Talked to you after the whole battle and gave you best treatment he could with ordering knockout!!

The way you're actually gentle and caring didn't interest him before, but now he actually finds you slightly cute if he dares to admit it to himself.

Does like your choice of colour and style. Tigers do represent strength, courage and commanding respect! Like himself.

If he ever got the chance he would tell you he likes you and he will have you in his arms the rest of the day/night

Is really dominant in a relationship of course, but he knows how to be caring atleast.

If you insist of becoming his personal bodyguard he'd let you. Not because he's "weak", but so everyone knows not to challenge him even clearer.

Starscream yelling anything bad about you BANG He'll be getting treated by knockout soon enough. It was either you or Megatron but who cares, you both kick ass.

Any Autobot scum dare to hurt you? He WILL have their helm in under a week.

He actually loves you even if he doesn't say it :) You're on his good side with soundwave!

Soundwave

Does he care at first when he meets you? uhhh, no :) but when you start to check up on him while he works does make his spark a bit warm.

Stalks where you are going once he starts to take interest in you, but not in a creepy way ofc! He wants to know if you're safe or fragging somebot

Finds you pretty when he has time to look at you. Black and white is pretty old style, but fancied after all this time.

If you get injured in a battle he will make the autobots chase laserbeak and he'll comes and gets you back to the nemesis.

If you stay a lot in tiger form he gives you pets if you ask. He ain't that mean and can't say no to that face. (He can :))

He serves Megatron with huge loyalty so he's a busy bot, hope you can live with that. (just stay in the room with him and cuddle his pedes in tiger form)

If he he's busy any other way laserbeak will stay with you. Your little baby bird :)

He doesn't speak so he will just display hearts on his or any other monitor close to you <3

He's just a sweet quiet bot with speaking issues xD

Dreadwing

Treats you decently at first which is so cute. Since you're caring, sweet and follow rules well he thinks you're not that bad.

Once he sees you beat half of the autobot team, he wanted to stay on your good side ALL THE TIME.

Once he catches interest ohhoh, you will be smitten!

I imagine he's more of a gentleman so he would let you go through doors first and help you when needed.

Patrols together? Do you even have to ask :)

Admires your style and the way the black and white bring the best parts of your frame out.

If you're big as a tiger jus give him a ride to battle and just chuckle at autobots' faces.

Spends time with you much as possible, but serving Megatron is most likely higher priority to him than you.

HAND KISSES TO SHOW AFFECTION!!!!!!!!

Injured and need help? It's already taken care of since Dreadwing is in the battlefield with you.

Does say that he loves you multiple times in the week. (Maybe even in a day)

Doesn't like starscream, never did and doesn't now either since he's always trash talking you down.

"Stupid pest! You trashed the whole control room! Can you do anything good in this primus forsaken ship!?!? I might aswell rip you spa-"

"Whose the second in command, starscream? You better shut your intake and not speak a WORD of my love like that again!"

That would turn me on WHO SAID THAT?! NOT ME :)))

Loves you unconditionally and shows it much as he can <3

You kept his knife/sword after he got killed :((

Knockout

"IS THAT A BEAUTIFUL PAINTJOB I SEE?!" his first reaction of you be like :D But like actually he loves it.

That's what he liked in you at first only, but once he gets to see your sweet and caring personality...oh he's probably passing out.

"Since you're the only medic here, I thought you'd like some help :)" You went to help Knockout with something and he didn't even ask? He must be in heaven/one with the all spark?? idfk

Imagine if you save his aft and his fabulous paintjob? He would give you big grin "So you do admire my paintjob, doll? I knew it ;)" Such a fragging dork he is

Go racing with him please!!! Your and Knockout's quality time is racing 100%

Oh and the drive-in theaters he mentioned in season 3! He takes you there for a "date" but doesn't say it is.

Just confessed a random day when you came to check up on him

"Helloooo Knockout, do you need any hel-" "I love you..." "I love you too dummy" *Smooch* Cute

Poor breakdown, now he's the third wheel :,) UNLESS POLYAMORY IS FINE WITH YOU ALL IS FINE ALL IS PERFECT <3<3<3<3

But when he dies you'll help Knockout with buffing :,( and support aswell.

The corniest couple of decepticons or any living cybertronian couples. Just cuteness everywhere nonethless!!!

Breakdown

He was intimated by you at first like he found Arachnid intimidating.

But once you show your sweet and caring side he lowers his walls. He also loves your style (And you already <3)

Talks about you to knockout and asks for advise since he's so clueless.

Seeing your strength in battle made his optics shaped like stars and he admired you for like a week after. He wants to challenge you, but holds his request back.

If your alternate form is a automobile...PLEASE GO FOR A DRIVE TOGETHER

He ain't got the balls to confess so ofc you made the first move

The big bot team in battles!! Go on and beat bulkheads aft and laugh together when you recall those fights back at nemesis (or when he's gone :(

POLYAMOROUS WOOOOOOO GET KNOCKOUT OVER HERE!!

Shows his love for you when there is not many bots around. (Professionalism!!) You're at work so behave!

Hugs, hugs, hugs and HUGS! He's a bigbuly bot so he gives good bear hugs <3

The only thing you have left of him is a pretty crystal he brought you before he died :((

Predaking

Another beast on nemesis? He makes sure you know who's stronger, mightier and loyal. But you managed to surprise him by actually being sweet once you get to know him.

Wants to protect you and if you both are in beast mode you WILL play fight

He might offer you a flight if you are nice enough to him

Fell in love with you when you bit Starscreams wing after he hit Predaking.

Most likely the deadliest duo on the ship unless Megatron joines too >:)

Autobots can go panic into a corner when you two show up on the battlefield :D It feels like a morning stretch to you two xD

You join Predaking if Shockwave decides to "borrow" him for a little bit and it makes his whole frame warm up.

Actually loves you show much and shows it even. SNUGGLES AND CUDDLING DURIN RECHARGE PLS

Wants to spend the future with you. And after the whole Megatron posessed by Unicron thing you both go and live on your own <3 Just him and you, no one else.

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

AN: TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY WTF?!?!?! But here you go! Don't mind if the writing is a little scoodaddle, I wrote during the middle of the night and the next morning so it's what it is :)) Hope you like it and don't be afraid to request more!!!!<3333

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.

For Horrorfest request:

Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?

Word count: 1156

notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans

“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 

The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 

Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.

But you stay where you are.

Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 

“He’s perfect.” 

--

The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 

“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 

You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 

“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 

“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”

It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 

But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 

The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.

--

Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 

Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 

But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.

It’s the puppet. 

Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 

“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.

“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.

You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.

This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 

“Why?”

Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.

“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”

There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 

“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 

“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”

“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.

It’s then that you notice the strings.

Not on the puppet--but on you. 

The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 

He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.

”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 

He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 

Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 

The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 

[authorhjk1]

Interlude: Ms. Satan

(Kim Bora X Male Reader)

You immediately know it's a dream as soon as you open your eyes. Your body is that of an 18 year old. Standing in front of a large, dark building you feel shivers run down your spine.

Your friends made you do this. A bet. A bet that could earn you 200 bucks. Is it worth it? Maybe not. And yet, here you are. Although you are scared, you still want to find out what's going on in this building.

The cold night air messes up your hair. The stars and the moon seem unusual gloomy.

There are stories of some sort of ghost or witch or something. Hiding in this abandoned building. If the stories are true, no one has gone in there for two years now.

You gulp, the palms of your hands starting to sweat. The huge double doors are covered in yellow tape. "Caution" is written in big black letters all over them.

One of the doors is slightly ajar. Not creepy at all. You try to squeeze through the gap, hoping to not make a sound.

Your backpack feels heavy on your shoulders. You win the bet, when you leave this building tomorrow morning. Hopefully alive. For now, you plan to make your way to the roof, hoping to be able to sleep up there. There shouldn't be so much potential trouble up there. The problem is just getting there.

You hear your steps echo through the empty building as you start to climb the stairs. The bright circle of light from your flashlight illuminates the walls.

A cold breeze rushes through the building. You hear some weird noise further upstairs. You stop in your tracks. It sounded like someone was walking. But the sound is gone now. Maybe that was just your imagination.

You sigh as you reach the first floor. Five more to go. The circle of light keeps dancing on the walls in front of you as you begin the climb for the second floor.

Another sound. Your heart is almost in your throat. After a second you realize it's just rain. Heavy drops hitting the building and some of the broken windows down the hall.

You get a little wet as you climb the stairs, the rain making the steps slippery. But if it rains, you can't sleep on the roof.

You groan in annoyance. Your heart stops. There it is again. The sound somewhere in the building. As if someone is walking.

You ponder if you should just run. Just run for your life without looking back. There is definitely something here. Something that already seems to know about your presence.

You reach the second floor. Your senses heightened. Should you really turn back? But that would be so embarrassing. You just hurt some stuff. Probably just the wind.

You start to take the stairs to the third floor. After a couple of steps, you freeze. Your heart almost stops. The light of your flashlight shows you a scene you never wanted to see.

A woman is sitting on the stairs. Her dark eyes seem cold. And yet they look like they can burn with fire. Her dark hair is held back by a ponytail. Most of her body is covered in a black and orange fur coat. The patterns and colors remind you of lava. Two necklaces are decorating her neck and a huge golden flower ring is slipped on her finger.

The most eye catching are her boots though. They are white and almost reach her knees. The heels look quit high, which makes you think that these can't be comfortable at all. The most disturbing thing is the fact that splashes of blood are on them. Her white boots are covered in blood.

"Hello there, hero."

"Wha-What?"

Her voice sounds sultry. Her eyes seem to stare into your soul as she keeps talking.

"You are the first one after quite a while. I was almost getting bored."

"You.... You live here?"

She chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. For some reason you expected it to sound evil. Like that of a witch.

"Of course not. But I do feel some sort of connection to this place."

You hesitantly nod. She seems nice, but you would argue that her boots say otherwise.

"What's you name, hero?"

"It's-It's (y/n). But why do you keep calling me that?"

The woman chuckles again.

"Only heroes are brave enough to face me."

"Ah."

You nod in fake understanding. This woman seems to be a little out of her mind. Or is this actually something supernatural?

"You are here because you want to feel my warmth though, am I right?"

"Your-Your, sorry, what?"

"My warmth. The people in this area send me dozens of heroes over the last hundreds of years."

What is she talking about? Is she actually that old? But she can't be human then.

"Y-You are here for over a hundred years?"

"Don't young men like you prefer an older woman?"

"What?"

Another chuckle.

"You don't seem to have a clue what's going on."

"I-I don't."

The woman slowly let's her fur coat glide off her shoulders. Her black top is decorated with some lace around her cleavage. The straps show of her naked shoulders. She rests her chin on her hand.

"I will make this night the best of your life."

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Her smile seems a little warmer now then before.

"Come closer."

She motions you with a finger to step towards her. You do so. Her boot is right next to your leg now.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?"

You blush as you shake your head. The woman reaches out. Before you can react, she traces the outlines of your dick with a finger over your jeans.

"Virgins are always the best ones. They are so eager to please."

It seems like she said that to herself.

"Let me see that cock of yours."

She has been staring at it, but is now looking up at you.

"W-What?"

"Come on,boy. Take it out for me."

You gulp. Her voice has become a little deeper. More seductive.

As you open your jeans, you realize that you don't have a choice. As if she is making you do it.

Your pants drop. And a second later, your underwear does the same. The cold air makes you shiver as you are now completely naked from the waist down.

"Not bad."

The woman let's her fingertips dance over your length. You jerk away at first. Her hand is warmer than you expected. It's almost hot.

"What is that? Six inches?"

You nod as she wraps her hand around your cock. As she slowly starts to stroke you, you feel yourself harden.

Your desire to fuck her slowly starts to rise. You were scared at first. But it seems like she really wants this.

"What do you think about making it a little bigger?"

"W-What?"

There is that melodic chuckle again.

"Don't worry. It will only benefit you in the future."

You hesitate before you nod.

Your core starts to heat up and you see your dick starting to grow very slowly. In length and in girth. Six inches become seven, then eight and then nine.

"That's more like it."

The woman stops stroking you. She sticks her tongue out, letting it swirl around your tip.

You groan. You never felt this before.

Her lips slowly wrap around you. Your dick feels heavier than before. She looks up at you as she starts to suck you off. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your shaft as she slowly takes more.

The woman retreats while stroking you again.

"And you taste good, too."

She winks, before sliding your cock into her mouth once more. The warmth heats up your whole body. Her saliva starts to coat your dick as she keeps sliding down your length.

You slowly start to enter her throat. You can feel it by the way her walls tighten around you. There is more friction now. She doesn't stop though. She keeps going and going.

Your eyes are wide in surprise and pleasure. You did watch some videos before, but none of the women were able to do it this easily. Especially without gagging. But for her it seems like a piece of cake.

You slide further down her throat. How is she taking all of that? She looks up at you, when she finally reaches your base. Your whole cock is inside her mouth and throat. Her walls massage your cock as she breaths, making you a little dizzy. How does this feel so good?

You see her using a finger to point at her throat. You crook your head the side. A visible bulge has formed in her throat. A familiar tug starts to build up in your core as you watch her place her hand on her own throat.

You feel the pressure of her hand as she pushes against her throat a little. Needing to tighten your grip on the flashlight you are holding, you try to hold it in. You don't want to cum so fast.

Your head starts to spin as she slowly retreats. Inch after inch leaves her throat and mouth. It's all covered in a thick layer of saliva.

"Does that feel good?"

Her question and her voice sound so innocent. As if she didn't just swallow your whole cock. You nod as she strokes your spit covered cock slowly.

"I think it's time to repay the favour."

She kisses your tip with her plump lips, before standing up.

"Get on your knees for mommy."

You are surprised by her calling herself mommy. And yet it does seem kinda fitting. You do as she says, kneeling down on the stairs.

The woman steps a step down, now standing almost directly above you. You are able to look underneath her black mini skirt. Her black panties have a golden miniature bell in the front.

"You have never eaten pussy, have you?"

You shake your head. You have seen it in the videos though.

"Stick out your tongue."

Once again, you feel as if you don't have choice. Before you can think about it, your tongue already leaves your mouth.

"Such a good boy."

She murmurs, while reaching out with her hand that's decorated with the big ring. Her finger slowly glides over your tongue. You feel it tingle a little, until she removes her finger.

"That should do."

The woman cups your cheek, while looking into your eyes.

"Now eat out mommy."

You reach underneath her skirt. Feeling the light fabric in your hands, you start to pull down her panties. The small bell jingles a little. It's barely audible.

You slide her panties down her legs. When you reach her boots, you fumble around a little, trying to get them over the white material. The fact that there is blood on them has already become unimportant to you.

Once they hit the floor, she steps out of them and kicks them aside. You straighten your back, now able to reach her pussy with your mouth. You are about to have your first taste, when you suddenly feel her hand in your hair. She pulls you back.

"You can't just go in there, honey. You have to start slowly."

You do as she says. You kiss her skin right above her right knee, before switching to the left. Slowly, you make your way up her creamy thighs. Her smooth skin tastes quite good. Not something you expected.

You become hungrier with every second. She sighs as you close in on her pussy, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Now that you are going slower, you can take a good look at her center.

Her pink pussy is hidden behind her folds, her clit barely peeking out. She is cleanly shaven, the skin just as smooth as her legs. You can see her lips glisten with arousal after your exploration of her thighs.

"Oh damn!"

She moans as you swipe your tongue through her folds. You have never done this before. And yet, your seem to know what you are doing. Or rather, your mouth knows what it's doing. It must be because of that thing she did with your tongue. A spell or something.

You begin to eat out the black haired woman. Moan after moan starts to spill from her lips. You push your tongue inside her pussy. Then, you swipe across her clit, drawing different shapes.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have given you this ability."

Her knees buckle as she gets overwhelmed by your new found skills. She has to hold onto your hair for support. You feel the wide sleeve of her fur coat rest on your head.

"Hold onto my waist."

You do as she says, holding her underneath the coat. Her skin feels a little warmer underneath your hands now.

"What a good boy."

She sighs and you can feel her, throwing her head back in bliss.

"You wanna make mommy cum, don't you?"

As if your body knows what to do to increase her pleasure, you nod. Because your mouth is still attached to her snatch, you make the woman's legs buckle again. The new sensation almost too much for her.

You feel her pussy becoming wetter as you feast on it. No spot stays untouched as you make sure to drive this unknown woman to her orgasm.

"Eat my pussy like the toy you are."

Her voice has become more sultry again as she nears her climax. Her grip on your hair becomes stronger. You feel her nails dig into your scalp.

"Mommy is gonna cum!"

She loudly announces her orgasm.

You keep up your work as she starts to cum. Her juices flood your tongue as she cums in your mouth. Her thighs close instinctively, trapping your head between them. Your face is pressed further against her pussy as she pulls at your hair.

You hear the woman breath heavily as she starts to come back to her senses. She parts her legs again, but doesn't loosen her grip on your hair. She pushes your head out of her pussy and makes you look up at her.

"You want to become a man?"

Her question sends shivers down your spine. You have never done this before. Especially not with a woman who seems to be supernatural.

But you know that the answer is yes.

She can see it in your eyes, her smile urging you on.

After letting go of your hair, she leans against the wall to your right. One foot on the step you are kneeling on, the other one step above.

"Come here then. Treat me like a man would treat me."

You almost jump to your feet, unable to hide your excitement. Standing right in front of her, you place your feet on the same steps like she did. She is a little smaller than you and yet, her pussy is on the perfect hight for your cock, due to her heels. It's tip grazes against her lower lips already.

"Put it in."

She whispers as she slings her arms around your neck.

"Take me."

You look down, as you start to part her folds. For the first time in your life, you start to penetrate a woman's most intimate area.

Her walls squeeze your cock tightly as you push forward. You go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She bites her lip as she looks up at you.

"Give me all of it. All of your cock."

You feel her pussy molding around you as you penetrate her further. As if her cunt is reshaping itself to fit your cock like a tight sleeve.

You groan as you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck. That's a good boy."

She bites your earlobe slightly, before whispering in your ear.

"Put your hands on my hips. And then, fuck me. Fuck me good."

You place your hands on her sides once more as you nod.

"That's good!"

You see her closing her eyes as you slowly pull out. Her pussy seems to try to keep you inside as you struggle to even pull out half of your cock.

You push back inside, making the woman lean her head against the wall.

"Faster, boy."

You do as she says, finally convinced you are not able to hurt her like this.

Your thrusts become faster and stronger. Her wetness makes a little easier to slide in and out.

More lewd words and moans are thrown your way as you start to actually fuck her. You nail her against the wall with every thrust, before you retreat. Then, you pull her body towards you as you thrust forward, pinning her against the wall yet again.

You keep your steady pace. Her moans increase in volume as she feels your cock hit the right spot deep inside her body.

"That's it. Pound your mommy like a good toy."

You fuck her harder. You pull her forward harsher, before slamming her against the wall.

The longer you keep fucking this woman, the longer your primal desires take over. You care less and less about your surroundings. You only care about her. Her and her pussy.

How rough you are with her doesn't matter anymore. You have to take from her as much pleasure as you can. Use her body to make yourself cum.

The woman seems to have sensed the change of your nature.

"That's it, boy. "

She moans into your ear.

"Fuck me like the slut I am. Use my hole until you cum."

You let out a groan as you think about cuming. You realize that you are lasting longer than ever before. When you do this on your own, it usually takes just a few minutes. But you feel like you have been fucking her four half an hour. Maybe that's another thing that changed, when she made your dick grow.

"Pound me with that cock of yours. I want to feel all your cum on my face."

Her words make you want to step up your game. You feel her increasing wetness as her juices slowly dribble out of the connection between your bodies.

"Fuck. You're gonna make mommy cum again."

You groan, close to your own orgasm as well. You don't know if you can survive her climaxing around your cock. Her pussy is already incredibly tight.

"Yes! Make mommy cum around that big cock of yours!"

You strengthen the grip on her hips, trying to use it to thrust into her just a little harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You almost scream as well as you feel her orgasm. Her walls tighten around you, trying to milk you. Her nails scratch at the back of your neck. Lewd sounds leave her mouth, which is dangerously close to your ear. Her legs buckle.

You stop thrusting, giving her time to regain her composure. It takes her a couple of moments.

Once she has come down, she looks at you hungrily.

"Increasing your length and stamina was a good call."

She traces your jawline with a finger.

"But the best feature is your cum. From now on, you will drown every woman in cum."

"What?"

You are too stunned to speak. Partially because you are still trying to recover as well, while her pussy is still hugging you tight. You believe she is exaggerating.

"You don't trust me?"

Her hand wanders to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You suddenly feel her pussy tighten around you. You can't believe she is able to adjust the size of her cunt. She squeezes you, making your cock twitch inside of her. You feel overwhelmed as she pulls at your hair at the same time. Her pussy is almost painfully tight by now.

"I trust you. I trust you!"

You sigh as you feel her releasing her grip. Both around your cock and on your hair.

"A toy doesn't question it's mommy. Understood?"

You nod.

"Good. Now be a good boy and cum on my face."

She pushes you away, making you slowly glide out of her pussy.

You watch her sit down on the stairs, like she did as you first saw her.

"Your cock looks so tasty with all my cum on it."

She takes you into her mouth, making you groan. Her lips wrap around you, her cheeks hollow. You feel her tongue dance along your cock, teasing and edging you. There is no way you are going to last much longer.

As the woman sucks you off again, you feel a tug in your stomach. It's a little stronger than it usually is. Maybe because you actually had sex? Or because you have more cum? You don't know. But it feels so good.

She doesn't even need to take your entire length down her throat again. Her lips have reached the middle of your cock as you feel yourself twitching.

Her eyes are wide with lust, demanding you to cum right now.

You can't hold back. A new kind of rush fills your system.

The first shot of cum hits the back of her throat, before she is able to react. She moves her head away, pointing your cock towards her face with one hand.

You have to hold onto the steel banister as you start to paint her face. Rope after rope of cum covers her perfect skin. Some lands on her lips. More lands on her closed eyelids, making them visibly heavier. It's dripping down her forehead, while the hair that frames her face is coated in cum as well.

But it still doesn't stop. You give her so much, that it starts to drop down from her chin. She tries to save it by opening her mouth and letting her tongue roam around. But a second after her mouth is opened, it's almost overflowing with your cum already. She has to gulp it down, preventing herself from choking and suffocating as more and more runs down her throat.

Once you finally finish cuming, you almost don't even dare to look at her.

Her whole face is covered by a thick layer of white, sticky cum. She can only open her eyes halfway, the cum on her eyelids weighing them down.

"What did I tell you?"

She chuckles, before she starts to lap up your cum from her face. Not just with her tongue, but her finger as well.

"This is even more than I expected. Probably because this was your first time."

You are unable to respond, still trying to comprehend what has happened in the last hour. For some reason her cum covered face turns you on again. The desire, to use her body, from earlier is slowly coming back.

When she looks up at you, you see her licking her finger for the last time. Her face is mostly cleaned up.

She seems to sense your new found desire. A smile forms around her lips.

"That's right, boy. You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

You nod hesitantly.

"You can't take your eyes off me. You want to feel every part of my body underneath your hands."

You nod again. Her words make your cock hard.

"I still have some time, before my husband comes home."

"W-What?"

You didn't even think about the possibility of her being married.

"Don't worry about him. He never pays attention to me anyways."

She reaches forward, letting her hand stroke your cock again.

"I'm always trying to teach boys like you something new. But I've already given you my mouth and my pussy."

She kisses the tip of your cock, her eyes a little darker.

"There is one more hole of mine that you can use. Make my ass cum. And maybe I will se you again after tonight."

The man on his throne laughs as he looks at the flames. His red body is glistening with sweat, screams of fear echo in the distance. Through the flames, he watches you stand behind his wife, aligning your cock with her rear entrance.

"You always corrupt the good ones."

He laughs to himself, his voice raspy and dark.

As you push inside of her, he can hear her moan, telling you to cum in her ass later.

Satan grins as he stands up, ready to punish the sinners that are burning in hell.

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

Hi everyone!

Enjoy this interlude. It wasn't planned at all, but after seeing SuA's Instagram post..... What am I supposed to say?

Hope you guys like the concept.

I'm excited for the new album.

Have a nice day!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)

Hi guys!

I post it again, the other one just disappeared without any reason. Sorry if you already red it.

TW : Blood, creepy psychologist, panic attack, angst, depression.

PART 1 | PART 2

Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.

Alexia.

Alexia is laying in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.

You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.

It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves

you alone for all the night since you came back.

Alexia Is not here, but it’s your fault. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time is it. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.

You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.

You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.

You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.

You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.

You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.

When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.

You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.

You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.

You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.

You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.

“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.

“Hi sleepy head”

Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.

“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.

“Can I have a hug?”

She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.

“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.

“I’m glad to be back to you too.”

You hum, turning a little to pass a lag around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.

“You remember Marta? From the media team?”

“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”

“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”

“Ok?”

You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?

It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.

Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.

Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

********

“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”

A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did given the time.

“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.

Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.

“You have an assistant?”

You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.

“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.

She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.

“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”

“Sure, mi Amor.”

She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.

“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”

“I am.”

You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.

Which is totally stupid, you only see her.

“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.

You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.

“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.

“Are you really? Or are you hiding something for me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”

You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.

“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”

She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.

“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”

“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.

“Alexia, don’t please.”

She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.

“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”

“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles right into your eyes.

You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.

“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.

She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.

********

It came back.

You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. Safe. Warm.”

“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.

You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.

“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.

“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.

“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”

The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.

“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”

“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”

“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”

“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.

She teases you way to much about it already.

“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”

You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.

“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”

********

That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.

You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better.

You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.

It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.

“Hello Y/N” your therapist greats you.

You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.

“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks, only looking at her notepad.

You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.

“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”

You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.

“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”

She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.

“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”

You don’t really remember the end of the appointment and you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them.

What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?

You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N?”

You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.

“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”

You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.

You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.

Everything that you don’t deserve.

When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. When you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.

A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?

“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”

She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.

“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”

She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.

“No! I just… Why won’t you…”

Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?

You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.

“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.

“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”

There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.

“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”

“You are wrong.”

Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.

“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“

“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”

She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.

“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”

You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”

You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitely soft.

“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.

“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”

“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”

You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.

“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”

“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”

You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.

“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.

She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.

“Okay Cariño.”

She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.

********

Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.

Rumor has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.

You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.

“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.

You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.

“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”

Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.

“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.

“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.

Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.

“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.

You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.

“I love you more” you smiles.

Alexia makes no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.

 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”

You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.

“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.

“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”

“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”

You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.

“Did you treat her?” you smirk.

“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve never met.”

She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Mallorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.

And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

King! Eddie Munson but w/ dragons

Pairing: King!Eddie Munson x Princess!reader

Warnings: Eddie is 21 and the reader is somewhere between 18-19, hopefully it's proofread enough, my first 5k I think, very very slowburn, like one creepy old man, a spoiled prince, you get slapped (not by Eddie), your dad and brothers are kinda eh, if I missed any then let me know

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You're of age now and your kingdoms throws a Choosing of the Suitors for you. On day one, a certain king catches your eye.

———

You sat on the far right side of the five thrones. Your mother and father in the middle, both of your older brothers on either side of them, and you on the far right side (if you were to face the thrones). A large dog-sized white dragon with blue undertones lounged across the top of your throne, eyeing the large crowd below with light yellow eyes. Its tail swayed, catching on the frills of your long sleeves.

You were dressed in one of your best dresses, hair done, and subtle makeup on your face. To mimic your big dragon, your dress was white with pastel lilac highlights, an add-on in honor of your favorite color.

You tried your best to sit up right, you really did, but today’s occasion just couldn’t grasp your full attention. You were Of Age now. Suitors of nearby kingdoms and far-off allies were brought to your father’s kingdom and displayed to you by their parents or executives, which were often older siblings, personal knights, or other older family members that were highly respected. But the suitors were either men that were too old for you, way too young for you, or something about them would throw you off if they were in your age group. You scanned over those in your age group, taking in characteristics but mostly how they watched you. Some looked as bored as you felt, but most looked at you with ill intent, never quite meeting your eyes. Your little dragon huffed and puffed at the men, which was your key indicator of which of them not to expect much out of.

You watch the announcer at the bottom of the steps announce the next suitor. You watch as a king and queen guide a boy about your age up the steps and stop on the third step down from the thrones.

“Good evening King Aven and Queen Victoria,” the king of the Morning Hills greeted. “I present my only son, William Hill. He has come of age, just like your princess. As your closest ally, I believe this will bring us even closer.”

Your presented suitor was a tall blond, his hair brushed back and his ice blue eyes scanned over you. He was rather fit, but still, just like others, nothing about him caught your eye.

“Oh yes, King Charles,” Your father spoke. “We are glad you’ve decided to present your recent Of Age son, and we will gladly consider him amongst the others.”

You knew what that meant. It meant that William Hill of Morning Hills was going to be the top most considered suitor of this week, as the Presentation of the Suitors usually lasted all week.

You and your little dragon huffed as you leaned an elbow on the arm of your little throne and smushed your cheek into your fist. You crossed your ankles and stared into the crowd, watching as castle staff brought in tables that surrounded the perimeters of the throne room so that when dinner was ready, everyone sat in the same room.

Four more suitors went by, none catching your eye. Until the fifth.

An older man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties and dressed in black and garnet formal wear led a boy, about your age, up the stairs.

The boy was dressed in king wear, black and garnet colored like the older man. A simple jeweled crown atop his head. A chain necklace adorned his neck, as did thick rings on both of his hands. He had long, dark, curly hair and dark chocolate eyes that seemed to pull you in like tar. He met your eyes, the first man to do so. He gave you and small wave, and you one back.

“Executive Wayne Munson,” The older man spoke. “Of the Mordor Kingdom. I present my nephew, King Edward Munson, son of King Munson. He became king at 17 years of age and is currently 20 years of age. I know things between our kingdoms have been tense in the past, but we hope to renew the trust between our two kingdoms.”

You look at your parents and brothers. They look tense.

Surely this kind looking boy can’t be the son of King Munson. The king that almost caused multiple wars and has killed many dragons in his reign of terror.

“Why aren’t you King, Wayne Munson?” Your father asked. “When you had the opportunity? Why allow a 17 year old kid to become king?”

“He was King Munson’s hier. Rightful to the throne,” Wayne Munson answered. “I would not be fit to be King. And I believed King Edward Munson would’ve done great things for our kingdom, as he has done and is doing currently.”

“Do you have your own dragon, King Edward Munson?” You father turned his attention to the boy, who’s been quietly observing you.

The boy, King Edward Munson, turned his attention to your parents, “King Munson, please.”

Your father stared him down, and King Munson only stared back with a small, sincere small on his face. It took a few seconds before your father nodded and muttered a “King Munson.”

“And I do,” King Munson answered.

“What kind?” You father pressed.

“A big red one,” The king answered. “I’ve raised him from an egg and he’s grown mighty big since then. As you might know, the Mordor Kingdom is known for our rather large dragons.”

Your father hummed, “And your kingdom?”

“Yes,” King Munson nodded. “We’ve replenished our dragon population and as well as have grown the wealth of my people. People live well and have what they need and want. My common folk are wealthy enough for a family of four and a dragon or two. We’ve opened our trades if you would like to discuss that further in the future.”

“Let’s just focus on the princess here,” Your father redirected the boy.

King Munson’s eyes drifted to you and he smiled, “Yes, let’s. I hope she will consider me. I welcome her with open arms and open doors.”

Your father nodded and waved them away. The announcer at the bottom of the steps was already guiding up another suitor and his parents. But you can’t take your eyes from King Munson. You follow his frame as he and his uncle settle at one of the large tables off on the left side of the room, easily in eyesight of you.

Your brother kicks your leg. You glare at him, before looking back at the present suitor. You huff and slouch back down, still stealing looks at your highly considered suitor.

Fifteen more suitors go by. Announcing their families, kingdoms, and whatnot. But none more catch you eyes. And soon, it’s dinner time. Castle staff bring in another table and sit it at the bottom of the stairs to the thrones and set the table.

Kitchen staff come out and line the tables with fresh meat, fruits, bread, and wines.

Your family makes your way down to your table, with your baby dragon at your side. You fill your plate with chicken slices, fruit pieces, and bread. Your wine is filled. You wait until your family’s four executives fill in the empty seats at your table to eat. Your father and mother sit on opposites heads, one brother for each parent and you sit by your father. You dig in once everyone is sat, tuning out the conversation at the table.

You notice your baby dragon is antsy, looking at the tables. You nudge him and give him the go-ahead. He scrambles and off and under the tables and you watched the faces of executives and suitors as your dragon passed over their feet. It’s your personal test of the suitors and a test of the dragons. Whomever treats your dragon best will allow you to be able to tell which suitors to consider and which to toss to the dragon’s pit.

You’re brought out of your survey by a hand on your thigh. You look who it is and it’s your father’s oldest and most trusted executive. You scrunch your nose and pull your leg away.

“No matter who you’re married off to,” He starts. “You’ll always be our little girl.”

You cross your legs and pull away more. You bring your attention back to the suitors, seeing the faces of those your dragon passed by. They were looking at you with multitudes of expressions but most whispering and gossiping to their parents. You went down the tables, seeing who your dragon was at now and it brought you to King Munson and his uncle. A little white head was peaking out from under the table and between his legs. King Munson seemed surprised but not upset, patting your dragon on the head and giving him small pieces of meat. He looked up at you with a look that was asking a million questions. You shrugged like you had absolutely no idea what was going on and smiled. The King seemed to understand what your plan was and smiled back.

It seems your dragon likes him and that told you everything.

“You need to control that dragon,” The executive from before said, distaste on his tongue.

“You’re luckily we let you keep him,” Your oldest brother sneered from across the table.

“Oh yes. Because we can control who dragons breed with,” You said sarcastically. “I’m not at fault for taking away Tungi’s eggs and handing them off to other people like they were stale pieces of bread.”

“You only got to keep that egg because that dragon of yours severely injured one of my trustee’s,” Your father argued.

“Did he survive?” You asked, eyebrows raised. You already knew the answer.

Your father went quiet because, yes, his trustee survived the wrath of a mother dragon.

“What are you considered suitors, princess?” An executive that sat diagonal from you asked.

“Prince Williams Hill,” Your father answered.

“And King Munson,” You added.

The table went quiet.

“He is a tyrant’s son!” Your brother barked. “His father had caused many wars and many losses. It was his choice to separate from the United Kings!”

“And our choice to drive him farther away,” You added on. “And his son, King Munson, wants to reinforce the ties and open trades! And I think it’s a grand idea! And so far, he’s been the only suitor to look me in the eyes and nowhere else, and actually address me when presenting himself!”

“Our concerns should be with allies, not what you want!” Your father growled.

“King Munson is a chance to reconnect with a past ally,” You pointed out. “So I am thinking of your allies!”

Your table went quiet and the horns of announcement broke the tension.

You looked and saw a Castle Staff in the middle of the room.

“As dinner comes to a close, we will start the Dance of the Suitors,” the man announced. “Suitors may find this as a chance to dance with the princess. Those who wait to have a turn will be given a lady to dance with!”

Tens of ladies walk in from the doors and file into the center of the room.

“Each dance will last for 15 minutes and in total for two and a half hours,” The announcer made his way out of the crowd. “Start!”

Just as you got up, your baby dragon, Alioth, scampered over. You told him to go back up to your throne and gave him a little piece of watermelon as a treat for being so good. You watched as he crawled up and onto your throne, happily open-mouthed chewing the fruit as he settled to watch you on the floor. Your family settled in their thrones soon after.

You turned and bumped into someone. You went to apologize but noticed it was William Hill. You noticed how his eyes hurriedly switched from your bosom to your eyes.

“Want to dance?” He held out a hand.

You held in a sigh and took it.

William lead you to the dance floor and walked you along to the sound of the orchestra playing in the corner. He placed his free hand on your hip and kept hold your hand in his other. His hand on your waist was too low for comfort so you adjusted. Then it was too high, his thumb brushing under your breast. So you moved it back down, and it was still too low. You just sighed and settled for that.

“Your little pet paid me a visit,” William noted.

“Oh yes,” You acted like your forgot. “Sometimes it’s so hard to control baby dragons.”

“I remember those days with mine,” William sighed dreamily. “They didn’t last long though.”

You knew that. You’ve seen the way he treats his dragon. You’re surprised he hasn’t been eaten by now.

“I’m luckily to be your future husband,” William told you like he was already for certain to be your future spouse. “I just know you will give me many children. We will just fill up the castle because of how many you will have.”

You scrunched your nose and took a step back to separate yourself from the blond boy, but he took two steps forward, smushing your chests together. He looked down and smiled, but not warmly. You huffed in response, looking out into the surrounding crowd to see if you could see King Munson.

“Looking for someone?” William asked.

Before you could answer the horn blew to signal to switch partners. And you gladly did.

Your next conversation didn’t go much better than William, and neither were their hands.

You went round and round and your head felt dizzy and your lungs felt heavy. Your feet hurt and all noise seemed to mush together by the end of the last 30 minutes. When the last horn to switch rang, you accidentally bumped into your last partner. It woke you from your daze and you apologized profusely, but your rambling was cut short when you realized who you bumped into.

King Munson stood in front of you. He was so much taller and broader up close. He was so intimidating and so inviting at the same time. His curly hair was slightly frizzy from the day’s events and he had freckles dotting his cheeks. His eyes weren’t a dark brown, almost black like you thought before but a warm umber color, but they pulled you in all the same. His gaze was kind and apologetic. It must’ve been the opposite of yours, all wide-eyed and surprised.

“Sorry about that,” King Munson apologized, offering a hand.

“No-no! I’m sorry!” You apologized. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ve just been dancing for so long- and I’m rambling, sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” King Munson slowly guided your hand into his and settled his hand appropriately on your waist. “It’s been a long two hours and a half.”

He smiled down at you and lead you along to the orchestra that’s been going this whole time. It almost feels like it’s just you two in the room once you get going. His hands feel appreciatively warm and respectful. King Munson’s hands have just the right amount of pressure against your layers of cloth.

“I was visited by a friend earlier,” King Munson starts. “And I assume it doesn’t just have to do with him being a baby dragon?”

He knows. And you smile, a glint in your eye.

“Alioth,” You start. “I sent him on a mission. Whomever he likes, I like. A dragon knows, and thus, do I.”

King Munson laughs, “So any suitors catch your eye?”

“Oh, just this,” You trail off. “Dark, curly haired king that’s adorned with thick rings on his fingers and a chain necklace. He’s pretty handsome. He seems nice too. And I hear he has the largest dragons in all of the United Kingdoms. Now that’s impressive.”

“Oh it’s nothing really, sweetheart,” He smiles again.

Sweetheart.

You blush.

“He seems like some guy, huh?” King Munson pushes gently, trying to catch your eyes.

“And I’m glad to be dancing with him,” You smile.

“And I’m glad to be dancing with you,” King Munson compliments.

The horn to end the dancing sounds out. The crowd disperses almost instantly but it takes you and King Munson a moment to separate, allowing prying eyes to see where the princess has gone.

Everyone goes back to their seats and executives, and you back to your throne. Your brothers and father glare at you. Your mother gives no indication of how she feels. But Alioth greets you with chirps and purrs, his wings flapping excitedly. You all settle as the announcer from before settles on the third step up from the ground floor.

“Tomorrow!” He starts. “Suitors will show what they learned during knighthood to show their strengths and weaknesses. Details will be discussed tomorrow. And tomorrow, a new ritual will be added. The royal family and the princess’s dragon will observe suitors' dragons. As previously stated, details will be discussed tomorrow. Now. Suitors and their executives will be led to their temporary stay rooms where they will stay nightly for the rest of this week. Goodnight to you all and I hope to see you all tomorrow!”

Castle Staff fills the room, leading guests to the visitor wing of the castle. Kitchen staff come to clean the tables, and your personal, and your brothers’ personal, staff come to accompany you to your room.

Once to your room, your ladies undress you and clean you up. They fluff up your bed and bring food for Tungi and Alioth, knowing you’ll feed them once your ladies leave. They bid you goodnight after leaving a plate of fruits for you to snack on and shut your door.

Your rooms takes the highest tower of the castle, the top half modified with stairs and a large open room with a large opening in the wall for your dragons to take off form. Being the princess has its perks.

You make your way to your dragons’ quarters, food in hand. Tungi, a large white dragon with oddly shaped spines that go from the back of her head to the end of her tail, meets you at the top of the stairs. You butt heads with her, reaching up to her horns, that curl in. She purrs as you pull back.

You pour the dragon food on the stone floor and let your dragons eat. You sit with them once their done, leaning against Tungi’s warm body. Soon enough, you’ve fallen asleep with Alioth’s head on your lap.

You wake up to a knock on your bedroom door. It’s just after sunrise. And you remember, how did you get to your bed? You don’t have time to think as your personal ladies come in and usher you from bed. They feed you breakfast as they dress you and brush your hair.

Your ladies don’t dress you in as many layers today. Still dressing you nice, but no corset, and with enough airflow for wind to blow throughout the dress. They do your hair so it won’t be too bothersome today.

As if he senses you up, Alioth comes barreling down from the stairs of the dragons’ quarters. Your ladies laugh at him and feed him some of your breakfast. Afterwards, they lead you out and down to the back courtyard, where the suitors are already practice with dull swords and daggers, but mostly swords. You scan the crowd for King Munson and spot him in a back corner, practice fighting one of your suitors. You settle beside your family under an overhang.

The announcers lets his presence be known as he stands in front of your family.

“Today we will be showing off the strengths of the suitors and what they’ve learned during knighthood. They will be practice with dull swords and other weapons of choosing. We will start with one on one and then switch to groups after ten minutes,” The announcer speaks. “Lest, rules! No harm will be permitted. Any intentional harm towards passive rival with result in immediate termination and sent back home. Yeigh?”

The suitors respond.

“Begin!”

The suitors begin their practice fighting, the clang of swords and grunts of men sounding out. You’re at the perfect angle to see King Munson. He’s obviously had some practice with the sword he’s chosen. He’s precise and an expert at blocking, aware of all parts of his body. He dodges and ducks, pointing out the weak spots in his opponent. You notice that the king has tied his hair back, keeping it from making multiple disadvantages on his end.

You watch a mixture of King Munson and the suitors for the next ten minutes. They’re all good fighters, and you hear your father and brothers praise the men or point out weaknesses. You don’t notice your mother coming to stand beside you until she puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I didn’t get to choose,” She speaks.

You look over at her, surprised.

“But you do,” She pauses to look you in the eyes. “And whomever you choose will be a good one. Any thoughts?”

You look at the fake fighting men again, watching King Munson.

“I like King Munson,” You tell her.

“He seems like a good boy,” Your mother says. “He’ll take great care of you. I can’t say the same for Prince William Hill.”

You nod, agreeing.

A horn blows. The announcers says it’s time to group together in previously selected groups. He pauses and allows the men to get together and then gives the signal to begin.

You watch as King Munson, Prince William Hill, and a third suitor are paired together. They start at the signal, hitting swords to show off their area of perception and the speed of their defensive reflexes. It hits about the five minutes mark before King Munson catches both your and his opponents by surprise.

King Munson pushes both opponents back by two steps. He knocks William Hill’s sword from his hands a few feet away and holds his sword to William’s throat, a forced surrender. Anticipating the third man’s move, King Munson, whirls around and knocks into the man’s wrist which causes him to let go of his sword and drop it. King Munson holds a dagger to the man’s throat. They both surrender and he backs off. He goes to help Prince William off the ground, but the blond boy slaps King Munson’s hand away and lifts himself off the ground.

Before the trio can engaged in more practice fighting, the ending horn goes off. The men put their weapons back where they found them and they’re all filed through the castle and into the front courtyard where the suitor’s dragons have been brought out for observing. The suitors and their executives join their dragons.

You tell Alioth to go get “his mama”, Tungi. You watch him as he flies to your tower and comes back with Tungi. Tungi seems to know what’s going on, as she’s heard you talk about this for a couple months now. She looks around the courtyard.

Your parents and brothers go around the courtyard, conversing with the suitors and their companions, but you don’t move from Tungi as you wait for her to move.

Your dragon looks around and sounds out a purring sound. You hear the other dragons try to match it. After a moment, Tungi locks her target on a dragon. She starts moving, and you and Alioth follow. You look and see she’s heading towards a, rather large, red dragon. His horns twist twice and point back, never lifting above the line of his brow.

You look for the dragon’s companion and find a very familiar curly haired boy. He meets your eyes with a smile and a wave. You wave back, and unable to contain his excitement, Alioth gallops forwards and barrels towards King Munson. The king meets your baby dragon with eagerness and pets him when Alioth crashes into him.

You meet Eddie just beside your dragons.

“Hi,” King Munson greets, smiling with teeth at you.

“Hi,” You say back shyly.

“Princess Y/n,” King Munson’s uncle steps forward. “It’s an honor.”

“Oh no, it’s an honor for me, sir,” You tell him. “I’m glad to hear your kingdom is doing well.”

“Yours as well,” The older man says. “But may I ask, what is this new ritual?”

“Oh yes! A couple other kingdoms do it as well,” You start. “The princess is still able to choose her suitor, but it’s important that her dragon has a say too. So this new ritual allows the princess to either confirm her already chosen suitor, which no one else knows about, or for the princess to filter out some of the existing suitors if she hasn’t made a choice.”

“But I hear this princess already has a choice in mind,” King Munson says.

“Perhaps,” You smile and rock back and forth on your heels. “But that’s me to know and you to find out.”

Just before you can continue your conversation, something warm and large nudges you. You look to the side and is met with a large orange eye with yellow flecks in the iris. The large dragon switches sides so he can look at you from the other side and nudges you again, almost knocking you over.

“Woah, Gourd,” King Munson catches you and gently shoves his dragon away.

Tungi puts her own face down beside Gourd’s and pushes him away, purring gently. Gourd purrs back. Their moment of calm is interrupted by Alioth who jumps up and puts his two front talons on Gourd’s muzzle, chirping up at him and talking with all excitement.

“Gourd?” You look at King Munson.

“Like pumpkins and stuff,” He explains.

“Do you have lots of pumpkins in Mordor?” You ask.

“Lots,” He nods.

You, King Munson, and his executive/Uncle Wayne Munson stand under an overhang for the rest of the afternoon, making small talk and people watching. You also watch how Gourd interacts with Alioth, nudging him around and blowing smoke at the youngling as a form of play.

As the sun sets, it blinds you but only for a moment as it’s blocked. King Munson and Wayne stop talking as you look over, seeing Prince William Hill creating the new shadow. He looks between you three before making eye contact with you.

“Wouldn’t you rather come converse with other suitors, princess?” Prince William asks.

“No, but thank you,” You say. “I prefer to stay with my dragon, and she prefers to stay with King Munson’s dragon. And King Munson and his executive are making lovely conversation at the moment.”

“Wouldn’t you rather consider an ally of your father’s?” Prince William presses. “A close ally. One that is more. . . suitable for you?”

“No,” You shake your head. “But again, thank you for your offer.”

Prince William opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by a horn sounding out throughout the front courtyard.

“Suitors!” The announcer that’s been helping announce and organize for this whole week long event starts. “Time to place your dragons back at the visitor stables and head back towards the dining hall in time for dinner. The royal family will see you there!”

“That is my cue, my princess,” King Munson straightens from leaning on the wall. “I will see you in a few, yes?”

“Yes,” You nod.

King Munson grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before he and Wayne Munson lead Gourd away and back to the visitor stables. You watch them until they blend into the crowd of people and dragons.

You hadn’t notice Prince William walk away, but you shrug it off and go to meet your family in the middle of the courtyard. You tell them that you’ll bring Tungi and Alioth back to your room and that you’ll see them in the dining hall. You climb Tungi’s arm and up you go on your short journey to the dragon’s quarters above your own. Once there, you praise Tungi for her behavior and that you’ll feed her and Alioth after your dinner. Alioth follows you to the dining room and prances alongside you through the hallways. You get about halfway down the hallway to the dining hall before a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the side and out of the way.

You’re met with disheveled blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Prince William. He still grips your wrist as he pulls you closer. Alioth pulls at his pant leg in an attempt to get Prince William to leave you alone, but the boy just shakes him off.

“What is with you?” The blond all but snarls at you.

“What?” You ask, having no idea what he’s implying as you try to pull away.

“We’re supposed to get married,” Prince William starts. “I’m supposed to be your chosen suitor. I’m supposed to be courting you, and you’re supposed to be all over me and so clung onto me that I can barely stand you by the time it’s our honeymoon.”

“Where do you get that idea? Who’s been telling you that?” You’ve had no news that this Choosing of the Suitors was supposed to end in an arranged marriage, if that’s what Prince William is implying.

“That executive of your father’s,” Prince William answers. “He said no matter what that we would be married and it is up to me to court you so it would end that way. But no matter what I do I can barely get you away from that son of a bastard king!”

You try to pull away again, “King Munson is no bastard’s son and you know that! He is as much of a suitor to me as you are! I just happen to be drawn to him very much because he’s very nice to me!”

“Nice shouldn’t matter!” William yells. “It should be your father’s allies that matter! Which is why this should’ve been an arranged marriage in the first place!!”

“Well I’m sorry for choosing someone that I like very much instead of thinking about my father!!” You yell back.

Your face whips to the side as a hand slaps you harshly on your cheek, making the skin hot and tingly. A gasp is torn from your throat and you’re in too much shock to cradle your cheek. Before either of you can say anything and voice speaks from down the corridor.

“Is there a problem here?”

You look over and it’s King Munson and Wayne Munson. You see King Munson speak some words to his uncle and Wayne walks towards the dining room. He eyes Prince William as he passes and disappears behind the large doors without a word. Steps echo as King Munson walks forward.

“Nothing that I can’t handle,” Prince William answers. “The princess was just out of line for a few moments. She needed to be reminded of who her superiors are.”

King Munson nods and stops just before you two, keeping a barely respectful distance.

“So if you don’t mind-“ the prince is cut off.

“I wasn’t asking you,” King Munson turns his attention towards you and waits for answer.

“No-no, King Munson,” You stutter, submissive under the eyes of the two men. “Just- um. . speaking, is all.”

The king eyes your face, obviously eyeing your reddened cheek. His eyes trail over to your wrist, still tightly grasped in Prince William’s hand. It seems to get tighter when King Munson’s eyes lay upon the connection, making you wince. That doesn’t go unnoticed either. He switches his gaze back to the prince.

“Well, as your superior,” King Munson starts. “I need you to let go of the princess.”

“But you are-“

“The son of a bastard does not make me any less king. And king I am, I am your superior,” King Munson says, threat in his tone. “And if you don’t let go of the princess, I will do it for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Prince William challenges. “What are you gonna-“

He’s cut off with a surprised noise as King Munson grips the prince’s shoulder and presses down on a spot with his thumb, instantly weakening his arm and sending him to the ground. King Munson brings you and him a few steps back as you both watch Prince William recover from the attack.

“Run along now, boy,” The king waves him off. “I have some words I need to say to the princess. They’re more important than your. . . threats.”

“My father will be hearing about this!” Prince William threatens as he wabbles his way toward the dining room doors.

“I’m sure he will,” King Munson nods.

King Munson waits for the doors to completely shut behind the boy before facing you.

Alioth, who’s been on the sidelines, bumps against King Munson’s leg.

The curly haired man glances down at your baby dragon and then back to you. He brings a hand to your red cheek, feeling the skin. There’s a small cut from one of the prince’s rings. The king wets his thumb with his tongue and wipes it over the small wound, cleaning it of previous debris.

“Are you alright? Does this hurt?” he asks.

“Just a bit,” You tell him. “It still tingles.”

“You’re welting,” The king notes. “Hopefully it will be gone by morning. There’s a small cut as well from his ring. And your wrist-“

You both look down as King Munson cradles your wrist in one of his hands, turning it over to inspect the redness and the small indents from where Prince William’s fingernails presses into your skin. It looks like a bruise will form on the outermost part of your wrist from the pressure.

“Does your wrist hurt?” he asks again. “It looks like it’ll be sore tomorrow, if not by tonight.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, King Munson,” You take your wrist from his hand and hide it behind your back, away from his concerned eyes. “Do not worry about me. You can do that when we marry.”

“But if I do not worry now, who will worry?” He asks, distress swirling and mingling with the concern in his eyes.

“I’ve survived this long without you, King Munson,” You tell him. “I will survive a few days more.”

A light seems to go off in King Munson’s brain after a moment, “So we will marry? For sure?”

“You were considered,” You tell him. “And as my dragon chose, so did I.”

A big, teethy smile grows on the kings face, “Oh, I would kiss you, my dear, if it be allowed.”

“In a few days' time, King Munson,” You tell him. “But first, we must eat.”