#yes i made a play on obsidian

[onedivinemisfit]

Sailor Moon vs Captain Obsidian ✨

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

[slut4evanpeters]

WitchBitch

james patrick march x fem!witch!reader

song i recommend listening to: spellbound by siouxise and the banshees

warnings: slow burn smut, master kink, overstimulation, fingering, obsession, mind tricks, smut at the very end and im sorry it ends abruptly🙁

summary: you are a rival witch of cordelia and her coven. To play mind games with her, you deicide to hold queenie in the hotel under a spell.

word count: 7.2k

notes: i came up with this in the shower.... i kind of rushed the smut im so bad at writing smut im sorry guys.. AND im so sorry for all the build up💀 when i write i cannot stop.

MDNI 18+

At the center of this forgotten palace of despair stood James Patrick March, poised in his fine three-piece suit. His sharp jawline and slicked-back hair framed a face that had not known the passage of time in decades. His dark eyes flickered with excitement, a glint of amusement dancing within them as he surveyed his kingdom. He leaned against the desk stood in the lobby, inspecting the tarnished silver of his pocket watch. Time, after all, had little meaning here, and yet, for James, the ticking of the clock always held a promise of something. Usually chaos.

“Darling,” came a voice from the grand staircase behind him, silky and soft, yet edged with a power that made the air hum.

He turned, a wide grin spreading across his face as he beheld his wife descending the staircase with all the grace and presence of a queen. You moved with an ethereal elegance, your long black dress trailing behind you like a shadow. Lock of hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and formidable, eyes like obsidian and sharp as a blade. You were every bit the rival to the Supreme of the coven that now sought you out, yet you moved as though nothing and no one could ever challenge your dominance.

“My love,” James purred, straightening from the desk and walking toward you with a swagger that was both dangerous and playful. He reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it reverently. His eyes never left yours, and the fire that burned in their depths was matched only by the one that coursed through your veins. “You grow more enchanting with each passing moment.”

You smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of your lips that sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. “And you, my dearest James, ever the flatterer. But we both know you’re simply excited for the evening’s new guests.”

“Ah, yes,” James sighed dramatically, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “The witches. It’s been far too long since we’ve had such promising prey wander through our doors.” His eyes gleamed, and you could practically hear the wheels of his mind turning, already plotting the wicked games he would play with them.

You glanced toward the large, iron-bound doors of the hotel, sensing the approach of powerful magic. The coven was close now. Their magic thrummed in the air, sharp and clean, an affront to the ancient, dark energy that permeated the Cortez. They were intruding, bringing their light into a place where it had no business being.

“You do realize, my darling, that these witches are not mere mortals,” you said, your voice low and sultry, a warning laced within. “They’re Cordelia’s, and she is not one to be trifled with.”

James’s smile widened. “Oh, I do hope so.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his eagerness. Despite his boundless enthusiasm for torment and chaos, you found his charm irresistible. It was that very dark charisma that had drawn you to him so many years ago, when your paths had first crossed in the shadows of death and magic. While most saw him as a madman, a murderer, you saw the brilliance in his madness, the artistry in his destruction. He was your perfect match, and together, you had created a life within the Cortez. An empire of secrets, blood, and eternal devotion.

“Don’t let your games get out of hand,” you murmured, resting your hand lightly on his chest. “Not yet, at least. There’s much to be gained from this encounter, and I’d rather not have it end too quickly.”

His expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup your face. “Of course, my love. For you, I shall practice…restraint.”

You arched a brow, knowing full well how long such promises lasted with him, but you trusted that his loyalty to you would hold. It always had. His devotion to you was absolute, just as yours was to him.

“I’ll handle Cordelia,” you continued. “She knows I’m here, she’ll come for me first. The others are less important. Let them wander, let them think they have the upper hand.”

James’s grin turned predatory. “And then, we shall give them a proper welcome.”

The two of you stood in the dim light of the lobby, a portrait of dark elegance and dangerous power, ready to face whatever came next. Together, you were unstoppable.

Cordelia Goode had always been cautious, but there was a grim determination in her eyes as she stood outside the Hotel Cortez, flanked by several members of her coven. The hotel loomed before them, an imposing structure of iron and stone, its windows like hollow eyes staring back at them. The air around the hotel felt wrong, thick with malevolent energy.

“I can feel Queenie,” Cordelia said, her voice quiet but resolute. “She’s trapped in there. But there’s something else. Something darker.”

“Is it her?” asked Zoe, glancing nervously at the building. The younger witch had heard the stories about the infamous rival of their coven, the witch who had once stood toe to toe with the previous Supreme, Fiona Goode, and lived to tell the tale. A witch whose power was said to rival even Cordelia’s.

“Yes,” Cordelia confirmed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s here. And she’s the one who holds Queenie’s soul.”

The coven exchanged uneasy glances. They knew what this meant. This wasn’t just a rescue mission, this was a confrontation with a force as old and powerful as any they had faced.

“We go in together,” Cordelia said firmly, “and we do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Our goal is to find Queenie and get out. Understood?”

The witches nodded in agreement, though there was an undercurrent of fear beneath their bravado. None of them knew exactly what they would face inside the Cortez, but they trusted in their Supreme’s leadership.

As they pushed open the heavy doors of the hotel, they were immediately engulfed by its oppressive atmosphere. The air inside was thick, suffocating, and the very walls seemed to pulse with a dark energy. The witches instinctively huddled closer together, their magical senses heightened, every nerve on edge.

“Stay close,” Cordelia whispered, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life or death.

They moved cautiously through the lobby, their footsteps echoing in the silence. There was no sign of anyone, no indication of the horrors that lurked within. Yet the magic here was unmistakable, a heavy blanket of darkness that threatened to smother them with every step.

And then, a voice rang out, smooth and elegant, laced with a dark amusement.

“Cordelia Goode, the Supreme herself. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”

You stepped out from the shadows, your presence commanding the room in an instant. The witches stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you dressed in black, your eyes glittering with power and amusement.

Cordelia’s expression hardened. “You know why we’re here.”

You smiled, a slow, predatory smile. “Yes, of course. The poor little witch, trapped in my hotel. You’ve come to retrieve her.”

Cordelia stepped forward, her voice unwavering. “Let Queenie go.”

You tilted your head slightly, considering her. “And why would I do that? She came here of her own accord, after all. It’s not my fault she couldn’t handle the…atmosphere.”

Behind you, James appeared, his expression one of gleeful anticipation. He was clearly enjoying the tension in the room, his eyes flitting between you and the witches like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Now, now, my love,” he said, his voice a dark purr. “Let’s not be too hasty. I think our guests have only just arrived.”

You remained still, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. The Supreme witch’s determination was palpable, but so was the unease rippling through her coven. You could feel the raw tension in the room, the fear of the unknown, of a place that fed on souls.

James stepped forward, his stride confident and languid, almost like a panther stalking its prey. He cast an amused glance toward the witches, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were about to address guests at a grand party.

“My dear ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet, “you’ve wandered into my humble abode, and yet, you haven’t even introduced yourselves. Quite rude, wouldn’t you agree?”

You raised an eyebrow at Cordelia, your amusement matching James’s. “James does so love proper introductions.”

Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough games,” she snapped. “We’re here for Queenie. We’re not leaving without her.”

“Ah, yes,” James said, his smile widening as he looked up toward the ceiling, as if recalling a fond memory. “The one who thought she could wield power here. A futile endeavor, really.”

“She belongs to my coven,” Cordelia said, her voice steady, though you could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes. “And I will not leave her here to suffer in this wretched place.”

James tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Suffer? I don’t know if she’s suffering, dear, but she certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

You watched Cordelia closely. You could feel her power, her strength radiating from her in controlled waves. She was no fool. She knew what she was up against, and yet she had come. That kind of courage, or perhaps it was desperation, made her dangerous. But you had been waiting for this confrontation, this inevitable meeting between you and Cordelia, two witches on opposite sides of magic, each vying for control in their own way.

“You’re a fool if you think you can walk in here and demand anything,” you said, your voice calm but lethal. “This hotel is not a place for your kind. Magic here is twisted, corrupted. Your light will do nothing but feed the shadows.”

“I’m well aware of the darkness that lurks here,” Cordelia said, her eyes flicking from you to James, and then back to you. “But I won’t leave without her.”

A tense silence followed her words, and you felt the coven shift behind her, preparing themselves for whatever might come next. James’s smile was almost gleeful now, his eyes lighting up with the promise of chaos. He took a step closer to Cordelia, but before he could speak, you laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Patience, my love,” you said softly, though your voice carried a warning. “There’s no need to rush.”

He looked down at you, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you ever saw. Devotion. In all his madness, his bloodlust, there was one constant: you. He would burn the world for you, but he would also restrain his hand at your command.

He nodded slightly, and you turned back to Cordelia. “I’ll make you a deal, Supreme.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

“Find Queenie, if you can,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “If she truly wants to leave, I’ll allow it. But if she’s chosen to remain…well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. “Agreed.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that she had no idea what she was truly agreeing to. “Good. I’ll even give you a head start. This hotel has many secrets, after all. You may find that time slips away from you faster than you realize.”

With a wave of your hand, the air in the lobby shifted, the dark energy of the hotel pulsing with newfound intensity. The witches tensed as the walls around them seemed to ripple, and the very atmosphere became heavier, more oppressive.

“Good luck,” you said, your voice low and laced with amusement. “You’ll need it.”

Cordelia gave you one last hard look before turning to her coven. “Stay together,” she ordered, her voice firm. “And don’t trust anything you see.”

The witches moved cautiously, their eyes darting around the room as they made their way deeper into the hotel. You watched them go, feeling the pulse of the hotel’s malevolent energy feeding off their fear, twisting the corridors ahead of them into a labyrinth of confusion and dread.

As the last witch disappeared from sight, James let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, they have no idea, do they?”

You turned to him, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Not in the slightest.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Shall we watch them squirm, darling?”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Oh, yes. You know me so well.”

Cordelia led her coven through the dimly lit hallways of the Cortez, her senses on high alert. The walls seemed to close in around them, shifting and warping as they moved, but she kept her focus on the faint magical trace that lingered in the air. She could still feel Queenie’s presence, but it was faint, as though something—or someone—was deliberately obscuring her.

“This place is a nightmare,” Zoe muttered, glancing nervously at the flickering lights overhead.

“Stay close,” Cordelia said again, her voice steady. “This hotel plays tricks. It’s feeding off the darkness within it.”

“Do you really think she’ll let Queenie go?” Madison asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. “She didn’t exactly seem eager to bargain.”

Cordelia didn’t respond immediately. She knew the witch who ruled this hotel—knew her power, her cunning. The woman was dangerous, and whatever hold she had over the hotel made her nearly invincible here. But Cordelia couldn’t afford to show doubt. She had to believe that she could bring Queenie back, no matter the cost.

“She’s stalling,” Cordelia said finally. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t find her.”

The witches moved in silence for a while, the oppressive air of the hotel making it hard to think clearly. The corridors stretched endlessly before them, each one seeming to lead deeper into the maze-like structure. Cordelia could feel the hotel’s magic pushing against her, trying to disorient her, but she held firm. She had to.

After what felt like hours, they turned a corner and came face to face with a tall, dark door at the end of the hall. Cordelia felt the pull of magic behind it—strong, twisted magic that made her stomach turn.

“She’s in there,” Cordelia said, her heart pounding.

The witches exchanged uneasy glances, but they followed Cordelia as she approached the door. With a deep breath, she pushed it open.

Inside, the room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and decay. And there, in the center of the room, sat Queenie.

She looked different, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy. She stared straight ahead, unmoving, as though she hadn’t noticed them enter.

“Queenie,” Cordelia whispered, stepping forward.

But as she approached, she felt the familiar pull of magic around her, a trap.

The door slammed shut behind them, and the lights flickered out.

In the darkness, you and James watched from the shadows, your smiles hidden but unmistakable.

Let the game begin.

The room plunged into darkness, and the oppressive weight of magic bore down on Cordelia and her coven. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls of the Hotel Cortez were alive, breathing and shifting around them. Cordelia’s heart pounded in her chest, but her voice remained steady.

“Stay calm,” she commanded, though she could sense the rising panic in the witches behind her.

“Queenie,” Cordelia called again, her voice carrying through the heavy shadows. She could still see Queenie, seated in the center of the room, her figure faintly illuminated by the dying embers of the flickering lights. Yet, the silence from her was unnerving—no movement, no response. Something was terribly wrong.

Madison, always quick to lash out when threatened, raised her hand, a burst of energy erupting from her fingertips to light up the space. The dim glow revealed the eerie stillness of the room, but as the energy crackled toward Queenie, it dissipated against an invisible barrier, fizzling out before it could even reach her.

“Damn it!” Madison hissed, frustration evident in her voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not her,” Zoe whispered, her voice shaking as her eyes darted around the room. “It’s a trap.”

Cordelia took a step closer, her hand outstretched toward Queenie. Her instincts screamed for her to pull back, but she had come too far to hesitate now. The closer she got, the more she could feel the distortion in the air, the unnatural magic wrapping around her friend. Something was holding Queenie in place, something ancient and powerful.

Just as her fingers brushed the edge of the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room shuddered violently. The lights flickered back to life, casting the room in a sickly, yellow glow. And then, with a low, menacing chuckle, the shadows shifted.

James Patrick March stepped out of the gloom, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. He was the picture of calm elegance, his three-piece suit immaculate as always, but there was a madness in his grin that sent a shiver down Cordelia’s spine.

“My, my,” James said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’ve made it so far, Supreme. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Cordelia didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on James, her expression hardening. “Where is she?”

James raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Who, darling? The witch trapped in her own mind? Or the one you call Queenie?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Cordelia snapped. “Let her go.”

James’s smile widened, his gaze flicking between the witches. “But why would I do that? You see, Queenie has made herself quite…comfortable here. In fact, I daresay she rather enjoys her time in my humble hotel.”

From the shadows behind James, you emerged, your figure as graceful and commanding as ever. Dressed in your flowing black gown, you looked like a dark queen reigning over a twisted court. Your eyes glittered with dangerous amusement as you took your place beside your husband, your hand lightly resting on his arm.

“She’s ours now,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. “This hotel has a way of holding onto those who don’t belong. Your precious Queenie is no exception.”

Cordelia’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she held her ground, her gaze never leaving you. “Queenie doesn’t belong to anyone,” she said, her voice cold and firm. “I’ll bring her back, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

You smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “You still don’t understand, do you, Cordelia? This hotel… it has its own will. Once you step inside, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. The Cortez decides who stays, and who leaves.”

“And Queenie,” James added, his eyes alight with dark pleasure, “has already made her choice.”

Cordelia took a step forward, her magic pulsing in the air around her. “You’re wrong. I can feel her. She’s trapped, but she’s fighting. I will free her.”

You and James exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a slight nod from you, James stepped back, giving you the floor.

“Very well, Supreme,” you said, your tone mocking but laced with undeniable power. “If you believe you can free her, then try. But know this—once you start, there’s no turning back. The Cortez doesn’t like to be challenged, and neither do I.”

Cordelia squared her shoulders, her determination unwavering. She knew this was a battle not just against you and James, but against the very fabric of the hotel itself. But she wasn’t going to back down, not with Queenie’s life on the line.

She raised her hands, and a soft glow began to emanate from her fingertips. The air around her shimmered as she channeled her magic, directing it toward Queenie. The witches behind her tensed, readying themselves for whatever might come next.

But as soon as Cordelia’s magic made contact with the barrier surrounding Queenie, the room erupted into chaos.

The walls seemed to bend and twist, the floor beneath them rippling like water. The lights flickered violently, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to move on their own. And then, the laughter started—low, menacing, echoing from every corner of the room.

James’s laughter.

Cordelia’s magic surged against the barrier, but it held strong, feeding off the dark energy of the hotel. Queenie remained frozen, her eyes wide and glassy, as if trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

“You can’t win,” you said, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “This hotel is alive, and it’s hungry. It won’t let her go.”

Cordelia’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t stop. Her magic intensified, the glow around her hands brightening as she pushed harder against the barrier. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she refused to relent.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia barked, her voice strained. “Help me!”

The two witches immediately stepped forward, joining their magic with Cordelia’s. The air crackled with energy as the combined power of the three witches surged toward Queenie, pushing against the dark barrier that held her captive.

But for every inch they gained, the hotel fought back, its malevolent energy twisting and warping around them. The shadows writhed, the walls groaned, and the very air seemed to close in, choking them.

James watched, his grin never faltering. “Oh, how delightful,” he mused. “Such

determination, such power. But it’s all for nothing.”

You stood by his side, your arms crossed, watching with cool detachment. Part of you admired Cordelia’s strength, her refusal to give up even in the face of overwhelming odds. But you knew how this would end. The Cortez had claimed Queenie, just as it had claimed so many others before her.

Still, there was something intriguing about watching Cordelia fight, watching her defy the will of the hotel and push herself beyond her limits. You wondered, briefly, if perhaps there was more to her than you had given her credit for.

And then, with a deafening crack, the barrier around Queenie shattered.

The room fell silent.

Queenie slumped forward, gasping for breath, her body shaking as the dark magic released its hold on her. Cordelia rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse to the floor.

“You’re okay,” Cordelia whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, it seemed as though they had won.

But then, the floor beneath them began to tremble.

James’s laughter returned, louder, more manic than before. He clapped his hands together, delighted by the unfolding drama. “Oh, how marvelous! You broke the barrier! But I’m afraid it’s far from over.”

You stepped forward, your eyes locked on Cordelia. “You may have freed her from the trap,” you said, your voice soft but deadly, “but the Cortez is not so easily defied.”

The room around them began to warp once again, the walls bending and twisting as the hotel itself reacted to the break in its hold. The shadows grew darker, more oppressive, as the malevolent energy of the hotel surged to reclaim what it had lost.

“You’ve only made it angrier,” you continued, your gaze never leaving Cordelia’s. “And now, it will take everything from you.”

Cordelia’s heart raced, her grip on Queenie tightening as the room around them seemed to collapse in on itself. She had freed her friend, but at what cost?

The hotel was alive, and it was hungry.

And it wasn’t done with them yet.

The floor trembled violently beneath them, the Cortez reacting like a beast enraged. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat as she held Queenie close, feeling the suffocating darkness around them. The hotel wasn’t merely a structure anymore—it was a force, something ancient, malevolent, and entirely beyond her control. It roared with fury as if the very act of defying its will had triggered a primal hunger that could not be quenched.

Queenie gasped for air, her eyes wide and terrified as she clung to Cordelia’s arm. “We… we have to get out of here,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from the ordeal.

Cordelia’s eyes darted around the room. The shadows were thickening, growing darker and denser, creeping along the walls like living tendrils. The witches could feel it too, the oppressive force pressing down on them, threatening to engulf them.

“We will,” Cordelia promised, though she wasn’t sure how. “Madison, Zoe, stay close.”

Madison’s usual bravado had vanished, her face pale as she looked at the twisting, warping shadows. “This place is alive,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “And it wants us dead.”

“Queenie’s free,” Zoe added, but her voice was shaky. “We did it. We can get out.”

“You think this is over?” you said softly, your voice cutting through the rising tension like a blade. There was an eerie calmness in your tone, but the power behind it was unmistakable. You took a few steps forward, the dark fabric of your gown trailing across the floor like a wave of shadows. “The Cortez doesn’t just let go, Cordelia. You should know that by now.”

Cordelia met your gaze, her determination still burning, but she knew you were right. She could feel it—the hotel wasn’t done with them. It wouldn’t stop until it had claimed something. The darkness was closing in fast, and even the combined magic of the coven felt like a flickering candle in a storm.

James stepped forward as well, his smile never faltering. He relished the chaos, the fear, and the power that swirled around him. “You’ve broken one little spell, Supreme,” he said, tilting his head. “But now, the hotel is awake. And it’s hungry. You’ve only made things… more interesting.”

His voice dripped with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. His dark eyes glittered with madness as he stepped closer to you, his arm casually slipping around your waist. There was something so grotesque yet elegant in the way he moved, like a spider closing in on a fly caught in its web.

You allowed him to pull you closer, your eyes still on Cordelia. “This hotel is more than just brick and mortar,” you continued, your voice low but commanding. “It’s a living entity, sustained by the souls it consumes. It’s bound to us now. James and I are its caretakers… and its rulers. You can’t fight that.”

Cordelia clenched her fists, her magic crackling in the air around her. “I’ll fight for her, for all of them,” she said, her voice unwavering despite the rising panic. “I’ve faced worse than you.”

But deep down, Cordelia knew you were right. The Cortez was a labyrinth, designed to disorient and ensnare those who wandered its halls. Every inch of it was saturated with dark magic, and even with all her power, she wasn’t sure if she could get them out. Not without losing someone.

“Zoe, Madison,” Cordelia said, her tone sharp, urgent. “We need to find a way out. Now.”

Madison glanced at the walls, which seemed to pulse and ripple like the surface of a black sea. “And how exactly do we do that?” she snapped, her usual snark barely concealing the fear in her voice. “The hotel’s turned into a nightmare.”

“It was always a nightmare,” you said, your lips curving into a knowing smile. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

Zoe tried to focus, reaching out with her magic to feel for a way out, a path that wasn’t sealed off by the hotel’s will. But every hallway, every exit, felt wrong, twisted. The hotel’s presence was everywhere, smothering and relentless. It was like trying to navigate through quicksand.

Cordelia’s mind raced. There had to be a way. She wasn’t about to let this place trap them forever. She glanced toward the faint light at the far end of the room, where the corridor led deeper into the hotel. It was risky, but it was the only option she could see. They had to move, and fast.

“Follow me,” she ordered, pulling Queenie to her feet.

But before they could take a step, the ground beneath them shifted violently, sending cracks spider-webbing across the floor. The walls groaned as if the hotel itself was coming to life, ready to swallow them whole.

James clapped his hands together, laughing with wild abandon. “Ah, darling, it’s glorious! The Cortez is truly showing its teeth tonight.”

You watched with a detached sort of amusement, but beneath it, there was a deeper understanding. The hotel’s power had always been great, but this was different. Cordelia’s defiance had stirred something ancient within the walls, something that even you and James could not fully control.

“I’d move quickly if I were you,” you said, your voice calm but edged with danger. “The Cortez has no patience for witches who think they can bend it to their will.”

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. She darted toward the hallway, her coven right behind her. The hotel groaned and shifted around them, the walls elongating and warping, but Cordelia kept her focus ahead, refusing to let the disorienting magic of the place deter her.

You and James watched as they fled, knowing full well the Cortez would not let them escape so easily. The hotel had a way of twisting time and space, trapping its victims in an endless loop of horror and madness.

“Do you think they’ll make it out?” James asked, his tone light, as if discussing the outcome of a dinner party.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing as you watched the witches disappear down the corridor. “Perhaps. But even if they do… they won’t leave unscathed.”

James chuckled, pulling you closer as he gazed into your eyes with that adoring madness only he could embody. “I do love when you’re right, my darling.”

You smiled, the dark energy of the hotel swirling around you. “And if they manage to survive, well, they’ll know that the Cortez leaves its mark on everyone who dares to challenge it.”

Cordelia and her coven ran, the hallway stretching impossibly long before them. The hotel was fighting them, twisting reality to keep them trapped. Every door they passed seemed to lead to another version of the same corridor, looping endlessly.

“We’re running in circles!” Madison shouted, her frustration spilling over.

“Keep moving,” Cordelia commanded, though she could feel the walls closing in, the magic warping around them.

Queenie stumbled, still weak from the spell that had held her, but Zoe caught her before she could fall. “We’re not leaving without you,” Zoe said firmly.

Cordelia tried to focus, tried to find a break in the hotel’s magic, a weak point they could use to escape. But the energy of the Cortez was overwhelming, seeping into her bones, clouding her mind. It was as if the hotel itself was alive, hunting them, savoring their fear.

But then, just when all seemed lost, Cordelia felt it—a faint flicker of light, a thread of energy that didn’t belong to the hotel. It was a small opening, a chance.

“There!” she shouted, pointing ahead.

The witches rushed forward, following Cordelia as she led them toward the faint glimmer of hope. The hotel groaned around them, resisting, but Cordelia pushed through, her magic flaring as she reached for the thread of energy. With a final burst of power, she tore open a rift in the fabric of the hotel’s magic.

A door appeared before them, glowing faintly with the light of the outside world.

“Go!” Cordelia ordered.

The witches didn’t hesitate. One by one, they stumbled through the door, back into the cold night air beyond the hotel’s cursed walls.

Cordelia was the last to pass through, her heart pounding in her chest as she cast one final glance back at the Cortez. The darkness inside seemed to ripple, as if the hotel was watching her, waiting.

As the heavy door of the Cortez sealed shut behind the fleeing witches, the hotel's energy hummed with satisfaction, like a predator content after a brief but thrilling hunt. The dark magic of the place settled back into its familiar rhythm-watchful, patient, knowing that no one ever really left the Cortez. Its halls would call them back, just as it had done countless times before.

You stood beside James, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer.

The witches had escaped for now, but their connection to the hotel remained, and that was enough. The thrill of the chase had rekindled something in you-a reminder of the power and control you wielded in this place, alongside James. It was intoxicating.

James, ever observant, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He turned toward you, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and admiration. "Ah, my darling," he purred, stepping closer to you.

"You were magnificent, as always. Watching you wield the hotel's magic like that, there's nothing quite as exquisite."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same for you, James. You do have a flair for theatrics." Your voice was laced with affection, though beneath it, there was something more, a simmering intensity that had been stirred by the night's events.

He chuckled softly, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace. His touch was familiar yet electric, a spark that always seemed to ignite whenever the two of you were close.

The twisted elegance of his presence, the madness in his eyes—it matched the darkness within you, and together, you were an unstoppable force. A perfect pair.

James leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and velvety. "The way you command this hotel, the way you ensnare those who dare challenge us... it makes me fall in love with you all over again."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head slightly, allowing your lips to graze his neck. "Oh, James,' you whispered, your voice a soft purr. "You know as well as I do that this place, this power-it belongs to the both of us. We rule together, and thats what makes it so powerful. It belongs to both of us. We rule together, and that's what makes it so... intoxicating."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with the same hunger you felt coursing through you. "Indeed, my love. We are bound, not just by this hotel, but by something far deeper." His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as if memorizing every detail.

"You're mine, and I am yours. Forever."

There was something possessive, almost primal, in the way he said it-like a vow that transcended time and death. And in that moment, you felt the full weight of your bond, the dark and beautiful connection that tied you and James together in ways that few could understand. It was a love forged in blood, in madness, in power. It was both your strength and your obsession.

Your breath hitched as his words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning. You could feel the pulse of the hotel around you, as if it, too, recognized the depth of what you shared. Slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between you, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened into something far more intense.

James responded eagerly, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips were fervent, his kiss filled with the passion and madness that always simmered just beneath his polished surface.

The world around you seemed to blur, the only reality that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed over your body with the same possessiveness that echoed in his words.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate. It was as though the two of you were trying to consume each other, to merge completely into one.

The intensity of your connection, your love, had always bordered on obsession, and tonight it felt even more heightened, charged by the dark energy of the hotel and the thrill of the night's events.

James broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips, his voice ragged with desire. "You drive me mad, my love.

Every time I look at you, every time I touch you... I burn for you."

You smiled against his mouth, your own desire mirroring his. "Then burn, James. Burn with me."

With a low growl of pleasure, he captured your lips again, the kiss deeper, more demanding. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting every nerve. You could feel the heat between you building, the air around you crackling with the raw intensity of your shared desire.

James lifted you effortlessly, and with a graceful spin, pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body pinning yours as he kissed you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His lips left yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as

he whispered your name like a prayer.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him on as your own need consumed you.

The world outside-the witches, the Cortez, everything-faded away, leaving only two of you, bound together in this intoxicating dance of passion and power.

James's mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, a contrast to the frenzied energy of moments before. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the dark love that had sustained you both for so long. The Cortez was your kingdom, but this. This was your sanctuary.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathless, your bodies humming with the shared intensity of the moment. His hand gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "For now, for always. You are my queen, my everything."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depths of his devotion, the madness and love that mirrored your own. "And I love you, James," you murmured, your voice soft but filled with the same intensity.

"We are eternal, you and I. Bound by blood, by power, by love. Forever."

His lips curved into that familiar, wicked smile, the one that always sent a thrill through you. "Forever, my love," he echoed, before capturing your lips once more in a kiss that sealed the vow between you-two souls bound together in darkness, for all eternity.

And as the Cortez hummed softly around you, it, too, seemed to recognize the power of the bond you shared. You and James were the heart of this place, the rulers of its twisted halls.

Later that night.

The sound of skin connecting with moans and loud huffs of breath is lost in the air, leaving nothing but the feeling of your pleasure in its absence as James fucks himself into your cunt.

Each time his cock pressed into you, slick dribbled out of your chubby cunt, staining the once clean sheets. He failed to put a towel under you like he usually does, too desperate to get inside you to care about something as silly as dirtied bed sheets.

Your legs were spread wide on the bed, each ankle hanging over the side of the bed. You rested your head on the pillow underneath you, arms resting under the cool side of the fabric.

He has no mercy, almost ruthless in the way he fucks you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum at this point, and what’s funny is he hasn’t even came once, leaving you in a puddle of pleasure that seems to never end even when you start crying.

James's back was arched harshly downwards, legs over yours, keeping them flush to the bed. His hips started to move faster, the once quiet sounds becoming loud and sloppy. Heavy balls slapped into your folds, making you moan out in needy pleasure.

A soft hand went down to your cunt, thumbing your lips apart to rub at your throbbing clit. His forefinger moved in quick, small circles, pressing against it hard.

"Oh, darling, yeah, just like that, clench your pussy just like that, clench that little cunt nice and tight around your masters cock." James groaned in your ear darkly, sucking a deep purple hickey into your hairline. "Always so fucking good for your master hm? Just Ravishing, aren't you, Dear?"

Your hips bucked hard into his hand, making his cock slip further inside of your sloppy pussy. "James-Ma-Master! B-Big, s-s-so so big! Fuck, fuck, it's so good James please!" Your cunt throbbed around him like it had its own heartbeat, slick sliding down from your hole onto the exposed part of James's cock. "Need-Need you to fuck me-!" Your voice broke off into a high-pitched whine when James started thrusting again, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

James doesn't stop thrusting, even when you beg and moan to tell warn him that you're close. He wasn't going to stop until he had you shaking and crying out for mercy underneath him. His hands move from your shoulder blades to your waist, pulling them up to meet his hips. James started using you like a glorified fleshlight, hips meeting yours halfway every time he pushed back inside you harshly. Quiet grunts came from him, matching up with the slapping of his hips.

"Master, Master, Master, Master-! C-Can-Can't!"

"Aww, that's it, that's it, sweetheart. Cum all over your Master's cock. That's it, my good fucking girl." You clenched around him tightly, throbbing and pulsing as you gushed all over him. "That's it, there you go, cumming for your Master like a good little princess." James moaned in your ear, biting and tugging on it as you quivered. "What'ta slutty little girl, so needy for me."

The consistent clenching around his cock drove him to the edge, his face scrunching up when his orgasm finally hit him. Thick ropes of cum shot inside of you, forcing a sultry, drawn-out moan from your lips. He pushed his cock deep inside you, ensuring that all of his spunk stayed inside of you. "That's it, good girl, what'ta good girl. Keepin' all my cum nice'n warm for me." James pressed on your abdomen gently, smirking when a small amount of cum leaked out of your cunt.

"Aww, it's leaking out of you, Darling. Guess we're gonna have to go again to keep you filled."

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: And The GRAMMY Goes To…

A/N: And even though you may be incredibly comfortable with Billy in every possible way, singing is kind of taboo. You've never sung in Bill's presence due to your shyness, but everything changes when you're so absorbed in the music in your headphones while cleaning that you don't notice her return. And you sing. Singing her songs, dressed head to toe in her stuff. Eilish goes crazy.

You're always looking forward to being alone. No, not that your feelings for Eilish are a theatrical sham, absolutely and categorically not. It's just that singing next to the seven-time winner of the prestigious Grammy Music Awards is pure suicide for your sense of confidence, despite all the mind-blowing love you have for O'Connell herself. "Made worse" by cohabitation, because living with a girl who has great taste in music and who has music playing literally twenty-four by seven in her house is a factor that clearly doesn't make it any easier to hide your little secret. So yes, you do look forward to being alone, even though you feel genuinely sad when Billie isn't around.

Literally a month has passed since the last time, and you're thanking all the gods when Eilish suddenly calls up the label to sort out some sort of issue with the promo that has started. With the recent release of third album, it's almost impossible to hold back the smile at the moment of forgiveness: the excitement is still bubbling in your blood, reinforced by the realization that you can sing your new favorite songs at the top of your lungs without any embarrassment.

"Are you up to something?" - the blue seas opposite look at you with warmth, and the smile on your face is beautiful mirrored on her face. Billie has always been perceptive and empathetic.

"Nothing but cleaning."

"Am I allowed to start being jealous of my dirty clothes yet?" - Eilish quirks an eyebrow upward skeptically, but the smile never leaves her face. - "I've never seen people so excited about cleaning."

A gentle kiss on aquophore-covered lips, a whisper in her ear asking for a quick return and you are beyond suspicion - the obsidian-black Dodge is riding, leaving you alone with your only devoted accomplice in the face of Shark. The phone screen flashes a green Spotify icon almost instantly. Your time has come!

×××

"Come on, boy! Sing along with me!"

And even if you don't hear the dog barking in the noise of the music that beats in ear headphones, him contented muzzle and actively wagging tail are more than eloquent. Having bravely dealt with dirty things, you suddenly found that you temporary have nothing to wear, so you borrowed the first oversize shorts and a colorful T-shirt from Eilish's wardrobe. Next tasks - dusting, loading the first batch of washed clothes into the dryer, and mopping the floors, what are you doing now. The last item on your makeshift list. Euphorically singing the last track, playing the third album for the second time, you release your playlist into free swimming, controlled only by Spotify algorithms. After a couple of trucks, you hear a familiar rhythmic thrill and a languid exhale - "Oxytocin". So good.

Shark hurriedly runs somewhere, but you don't pay it any mind, only intercepting the mop handle like a microphone stand.

×××

"My girl, I'm home!"

It's the only thing Billie says before she stands frozen at the doorway to the living room. Her hand intercepts the car keys she'd been coquettishly twirling on her index finger at the last moment, for the sudden sight before her is far more coquettish and startling. Shark barks happily, running up to her, causing Billie to shush the pet with a hasty shush. Her hands immediately fumble for her cell phone in her shorts pocket - it's a sin not to capture at least a few seconds.

"Cause as long as you're still breathing, don't you even think of leaving," you sing languidly, almost touching the handle of the improvised microphone with your lips.

Billie only swallows, realizing the hot knot between her legs tightening the longer she watches your performance. In her eyes are hungry blue flames, ready to lick you from head to toe. The impulse to strip you of her own clothes, so insanely appropriate for you but interfering with her contemplation now, is interrupted by a clever idea. Her phone dives back into her pocket. A few hurried steps outside of your attention and she's already at the rack of numerous statuettes, a few more and you almost gasp at the last words of the song, seeing the weighty Grammy statue right in front of you, clasped in her hand, followed by the feeling of Eilish pressing against your back. Insanely close. Insanely hot. Your hands grip the phone shakily, poking at 'stop' and the mop promptly sheds to the floor, hitting audibly. You've been caught red-handed.

"I think this is rightfully yours, girl," Billie whispers and grins deftly into your ear, interlocking your fingers on the cold gold of the gramophone.

"Billie, I-"

"Shh, you better tell me how long it's been since I've known about this," her tongue makes a hot stroke on the curl of your ear, biting down gently on the lobe, catching your ragged exhale with pleasure, - "How many concerts have I missed already, Y/n?"

You're at a loss, not knowing what to say. Eilish's hands, tugging at the edges of her own T-shirt, which you're wearing, don't seem to be helping you concentrate. Oh yeah, add to that the fear that you might drop Grammy on the floor right now if she continues.

"I... I can't exactly say, I do this whenever... when you're not around, I'm sorry."

Eilish's hands only lead higher, up to your chest, placing a hickey on your neck with some mysterious throaty purr and licking it off immediately, burning you with her heated breath. You reflexively give her more access.

"Wow, how much did I miss," - the bite on your collarbone, your new quiet moan, - "Can I count on a private concert?".

The three tattooed fairies on her left arm flicker, barely releasing your gaze downward - the knot on her your shorts immediately comes undone, giving her easy access.

"Sing to me, Y/n. Sing all my songs."

And you sing. Only for her. In bedroom, mixed lyrics with moans.

[boundbyeclipse]

she’s my deadly desire.

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

word count : 1.3k

tags : witch!female!reader, hybrid!klaus, use of alcohol

a/n : i was listening to night vision by mareux while writing this, and i highly recommend this song if you like alternative/indie type of music. totally obsessed with that song. enjoy ♡

Friday evening. The bar is half filled, lots of faces known to the whole town present, including you. You sat by the bar counter, elbows on top of the wooden surface, a black plastic straw in between your fingers. Mixing the ice cubes in your almost empty glass to melt them, you huff, tired of dealing with the hybrid himself for the whole week. Chasing you here and there, he hasn’t left you alone. Subtle gifts like a necklace, roses delivered to your door, a bundle of candles and herbs. Those were at your door every single day, and it only made you want to stop accepting them in hopes of him leaving you be. Obviously, those gifts were nice, especially the herbs that you’ve been looking for to practice some new spells, but he was far from being done with you.

The door creaked open as a tall, handsome man stepped inside, an immediate smirk across his face when he recognised you. Yes, even from the back. Everyone at the bar collectively shifted their gazes towards him. His hair was slightly curly, skin soft and eyes mellow. Dressed in all black, he walked with such confidence, a slight swagger in his step. He scooched in between the bar counter and the stool, sitting down as he motioned at the bartender.

“One whiskey, please” he spoke, then turning his attention to you.

“Klaus Mikaelson. Found me yet again” you sighed, tilting your head to the side as you sipped the last of your drink. You didn’t really want to look at him right now, you were fed up.

A smile budded on his lips.

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy, love. I’m here to cheer you up yet again. Except that I don’t have any gifts for you this time” his voice dropped an octave lower at the last sentence.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, pushing the empty glass aside.

“Good. I didn’t ask for any in the first place”

“But you’re wearing the obsidian necklace I gifted you. You might’ve not asked for it, but you still have it around your neck”

You gulped as you grasped onto the necklace that you wore, holding it tightly in your fist in an attempt to hide it. The panic set in and you didn’t know how to react or what to say. Yet you had words slip past your lips.

“Obsidian protects me, okay? I just don’t understand why it doesn’t protect me from you”

“You think I have some bad intentions?,” his brows knitted together, “darling, you better trust that I don’t”

You rolled your eyes again, still avoiding any kind of eye contact with the hybrid next to you. His cologne traveled through your nostrils every time he moved, and you could not lie to yourself - it really smelled good. Slightly minty, fresh, not too spicy, yet captivating enough to your senses. It was no lie that Klaus himself was a really hot dude, and it was something you found yourself thinking about from time to time. But god knows why you chose to play hard to get and act like he annoys the living hell out of you. Things were the other way around. Only time could tell when you were going to show what you really think about him.

Klaus shifted in his seat, gulping his drink as he placed the glass down and began to spin it in circles with his fingers.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You shook your head.

“No, I can’t have too much”

“Why? Are you lightweight?”

Just say yes, just say yes, god damn it!

“No. It makes my legs spread for dangerous men like you”

His eyebrows inched upward, as he looked upon you in stunned silence. But not for long, as he broke into laughter that he couldn’t seem to control. Why is he laughing? Does he find it funny?

“That’s not why I’m asking, love. See, I was only being a gentleman and offered to pay for your drink. But okay, if you say so” he shrugged, downing the strong liquor he had ordered earlier.

“Doesn’t change my answer” you give him a fake smile as you get your wallet and zip it open, about to hand money to the bartender. You jump as Klaus grabs your wrist and pushes your arm down.

“At least let me pay for the one you drank already”

You click your tongue and sigh heavily.

“Fine!”

Klaus lets go of your hand gently and pays for your drink as well as his own, eyes darting your way as you hopped off the chair, ready to leave.

“Oh-“ he got off his chair too, blocking the way as he stood in front of you. This man made your heart beat so loud that the entire public in this building could hear it. Except the non-supernatural ones, of course.

“Slow down, sweetheart. I’m not letting such a beautiful girl like you go home on her own this late. May I?” he fixed his jacket and offered you his forearm, giving you such a dazzling smile that made you nothing but weak in the knees. Of course you could say no, walk away and just call a taxi to get you home. Of course you could just scoff and mock him before taking off. Of course you could curse him out and tell him to leave you alone. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your face only flushed with redness as you stood there staring at his arm, hesitantly taking it without making any eye contact.

What are you doing with Klaus? Or more like, what is Klaus doing to you? It can’t be the alcohol because you only had one cocktail, it wasn’t even enough to get you tipsy. You just couldn’t resist him, and it was strange. The cologne was intoxicating as well as the way he spoke. It was so lovely and soft, so gentle, so caring. The blood in your veins ran hot as you walked out of the bar clinging onto his forearm, embarrassed by the choice you’ve made.

You were silent the whole time until he got you home. You found no words to say to him, everything felt awkward and weird. But it didn’t matter to him that you were quiet as if your mouth was sewed up. Klaus was the brave one. So where did the hard-to-get you go to?

“I can hear your little heart, you know?” he whispered lowly, his finger brushing a strand of hair out of your face, you then unconsciously leaning into his palm.

He found it adorable.

You nodded, absolutely vulnerable in front of the curly headed hybrid.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me. Nor avoid me, or my gifts. I’m doing it all with good intentions only. I know it probably makes me a little bit of a creep, but trust me, it’s not what I am. I just know that you need some sort of a distraction from all the crap you’re dealing with. I hope what I do helps you”

“Thank you” you finally speak as you look into his eyes, really shy, really unsure, but don’t look away.

“No need to thank me. Now go ahead, get inside”

You smiled while licking your lips as you unlocked your door and opened it, stopping on the doorstep as you looked at Klaus. He gave you a warm smile, the moon right above his head shining down and illuminating the streets.

“Oh, and were you serious about the legs thing?” Klaus tilted his head as he pointed at you with his index finger. Your eyes lit up, sparkling with anticipation as you broke into a small giggle.

“Shut up. I was just joking,” you shook your head before whispering, “Or maybe not”

Klaus dropped his smile for a second before it returned.

“You know I heard that”

“Goodniiiiight” you waved as you hurriedly shut the door with the biggest grin on your face. Klaus chuckled to himself as he paused for a few seconds before stepping off of the front porch, disappearing into the distance.

[gretavanlace]

Blank

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, dirty talk, discussion of poor self image/shaky mental health, praise, degradation, dumbification, impact play (spanking), etc

You’re standing in front of the floor length mirror when Josh’s voice finds you…turning this way and that with your t-shirt pulled tight around your belly and a frown furrowing your brow.

“The movie’s ready, baby.” There’s a smile in his tone, and a dramatic flare, as there so often is, as he leans against the door jamb. “And I made the popcorn on the stove like you like. None of that microwaved bullshit for my darling doll.”

You’d like to find your excitement in order to match his own - movie night is his favorite night of the week. Often, it turns into several nights a week, in keeping with his passion for film and curling up snug and warm with you on the couch.

And normally, you look forward to it as well, but tonight…

Well, tonight you’d just as soon crawl into bed alone and in the dark. How else will you ever manage to tune out all those poisonous thoughts hissing through your mind? Obsidian. Ominous. Hateful.

“What are you doing, babe?” There is concern in his query. He knows you far too well.

Dropping your shirt as if it’s white hot, you slip away from the mirror, praying he’ll let the matter drop. Though, you hope in vain. You know him far too well, too. “Nothing. C’mon, whatever masterpiece you’ve selected isn’t going to watch itself.”

He steps into the room and you suppress a sigh of defeat. “Waterloo Bridge.” He clarifies, studying you intently. “And you’re a shitty liar. What’s wrong?”

“I said it’s nothing, Josh,” there’s a touch too much venom in your tone, but sometimes you wish he didn’t see so damn much. Sometimes you wish you could skate around things with him.

“And that’s a lie,” he points out, sidling up behind you when you turn away. “Do we lie to one another?”

“No.” You concede quietly as his arms cradle you from behind.

“So, would you like to try again?” His embrace is soft, but it makes you feel safe and protected all the same. He has this way about him - he is love and light, sunshine and smiles, gentle poetry…but something lies hidden away behind it all, something only you get to see, and it makes for the most deliciously dark and menacing aura when it comes out to play.

“I just,” now you’re stammering like a child caught with a crayon in her hand and scribbles on the wall.

His lips move along the nape of your neck, brushing over your skin and the whispers of hair that have fallen from your bun, “You just, what?”

“I had lunch with my sister today.” You offer meekly. Can’t he ever just leave things alone? Can’t he ever just let you curl up with your self-loathing?

“Yes,” he nods, now pecking at the curve of your jaw, “And I adore you for not making me come along…she’s exhausting.”

“I know.” His palms are now running along beneath your shirt, circling your belly with tender possessiveness…it’s soothing and filled up full of love, but you wish his hands would land somewhere a little more flattering “But she’s also truthful. She thinks I should start going to the gym with her, and she’s right.”

He stills behind you instantly, and you can feel him shaking his head, though you’ve closed your eyes against the embarrassment of it all.

Eager to fill the room up with words rather than your own vulnerability, you rush on “She’s is, though. Right, I mean. I’ve put on weight, and the older I get, the harder it will be to take off. Obviously, I’ve never been small, but—“

He cuts you off with a loose palm around your throat and a snapped, “Stop.” Breathed in your ear.

“Josh,” Christ, you want to melt into the floor, “I love you for always being so sweet, but I,”

You haven’t the chance to finish your thought and his grip is tightening, “I said, stop.”

A joke will quench the fire burning in your cheeks, “C’mon, what if I got all adorable and tiny like your little hippy girls in the crowd? I—“

A sharp pinch to the curve of your hip shocks you into silence, which he promptly fills. “Don’t say things like that. You’re fucking beautiful. Soft and warm. I want to nestle my face right here,” his hand is splayed out wide across your belly again, “and right here,” his touch drops to find the dimples in your thighs, “for the rest of my life. If we get to choose our heaven, you will be mine. Gorgeous, perfect girl.”

Now you’re struggling to squirm out of his insistent embrace. You feel too seen. And though you know he is nothing if not sincere, always…those lovely words of his, they feel like untruths.

“Josh,” you snap, a little too harshly, “let’s just go watch the movie, okay?”

But it’s too late, he has spotted the quiver at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” he spins you around to face him and you know it’s useless to shut him out at this point. “What’s going on up here, hmm?” He taps your temple gently, “Is it getting loud?”

You know he means those intrusive thoughts that plague you when the love and admiration he beams in your direction isn’t enough. He knows the way they scream and yell at you no matter how badly he’d love to quiet them for good.

Ashamed, you stare down at his t-shirt, toying with the cotton between your fidgeting fingers, “Maybe a little,” you hush.

His fist tucks under your chin, tilting your face upward, but still, you refuse his gaze. “You need it, baby?”

Voice soft and leading, he lures you out of your bashfulness just enough for you to find the bravery to blink up at him with the tiniest of nods.

“Yeah?” He sounds so unlike himself - but also, exactly like himself. “You need me to make it go away? Wipe that wild mind until you’re as blank as you are pretty?”

Josh is small, and he has never shied away from that, but in these moments, he feels larger than life…looming like a God sent to bring you peace. “Can you, please?’

With a taunting flick of your nipple, he switches on. “Well, how could I ever say no to such a sweet girl? You sound like honey when you say please.”

The warmth of his body, so near to yours, is suddenly missing, but you’re feeling a little too meek to glance up to see where he’s gone…opting to stare at your thumbnail in earnest instead, resisting the urge to pick your cuticle.

“Come on, doll,” his voice comes hushed as a siren’s secret song floating through a cove “Miss you already.”

You feel unworthy of this. Of him. Of all the tiny ways he loves you just right. How he has memorized you in and out. The way he looks at you like he could happily stare forever. How he understands even when he doesn’t quite understand…how he took your heart and turned it round and round until he had mapped out every inch. How he dives inside your mind every day and does the same, no matter how tragic and treacherous it can be to wade through those waters.

When you had stumbled upon this, it had been by accident really. A harsh crack of his palm against the globe of your ass by way of quieting you when you’d argued with his stuttering praises as he pushed into you over and over from behind. Your brain had short circuited in the most welcomed and stunning way. That stinging impact, the shock of it, the tangible pain, had left no room for cruel thoughts…your mind was muffled up like lavender cotton with nothing but Josh and what he saw fit to give.

Most times, he loves you hard enough just by being himself. Golden, shimmering aura, grinning heart, sure and tender hands…but sometimes you need this from him - and he is always willing to oblige. You hold the key that turns all his locks, and he would sink into a bed of hot coals for a nap if you thought to ask it of him.

With a clipped call of your name, he’s got you hustling across the room to fold yourself shyly over his knee at the foot of the bed.

“That’s perfect, baby.” He coos down at you, palm stroking over the backs of your thighs before bunching your t-shirt up around your waist. “Gonna make it all go away, aren’t I? Is that what you need? You need me to take it all away?”

“Please.” You sound pathetic, but already it’s a sweeter sort of shame. One you can name. One you can love.

His fingers tuck under the cotton of your panties, hooking at the soft lace that adorns the edges, straightening them as though he’s adjusting the ribbon on a present he’s waited a very long time to receive.

“If I had to guess,” he hums, a little like the kindest bully you’ve ever known, “I’d wager your pretty pussy’s feeling lonely already. Maybe a little whiny. Maybe starting to swell…” his hands continue to pet at your ass, your thighs, your hips, “I love that, you know? Watching how puffy and swollen you get. It’s adorable…and fucking sexy. Your body begs without a sound.”

Your grip is twisting into the blanket beneath you now as your cheek nuzzles against the downy softness “Josh…”

“Quiet,” he bestows a single, much too delicate smack in the wrong place. It’s too far off to the side for your liking, and he knows it. “We’ll get there. You’re gonna listen first.”

An obedient nod tugs yet another delicious hum of approval from him and you squirm lightly under his hands, thrumming with pleasure at the sound of his validation.

“You’re alright, baby…” he’s being so gentle. Too gentle. But you would lie here beneath his hands and his gaze for all of eternity if that’s what would suit him. “My poor thing just needs it, doesn’t she? Busy little head needs to just leave…” a soft swat lands upon your cheek just below the waist, “her…” another, “alone,” and another.

“Harder, Josh…” it’s a piteous plea, one that pairs nicely with the honeyed, condescending melodies drifting off his tongue.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do to you.” He’s coaxing so kindly, but you know what lurks below that shiny surface. “Say the words, my darling doll. Say the words.”

With a deep, centering breath, you find the calm in your storm by way of his scent…eucalyptus and bergamot…woodsy hint of lemon soap lingering beneath. You find strength in his presence, and love there, too.

“Spank me.” It pants out of you like an urgent prayer. “Make it stop.”

As if in punctuation to your begging, he lands a harsh, loud, cracking strike against the fat of your ass. It comes quickly, shaking your equilibrium though this is exactly what you’ve been imploring him for.

“Fuck!” The curse pushes out of your lungs, long and grateful. Blindsided and aching.

Another blow lands in exactly the same place, setting the flesh there on fire. “Yeah? Fuck?” He taunts, “That’s a good fucking doll…you just take it.”

“More,” you’re rocking around, blissful at the pain and the twitching of his hard cock beneath you.

He begins laying into you without restraint, blow after blow raining down on you like merciful salvation. Your brain is numb now - quiet, hazy and clouded with his perfect wrath.

Tears are streaking like fire down your cheeks, a graven image of mother Mary sobbing blood in a candlelit room of worship come to life. He is your alter. He is your God.

“That’s my girl,” his accolades stutter out between smack after smack until he pauses to jerk your legs apart. “You’re dripping all over me. Baby needs it right here, too?” There is his touch, love and reverence woven into the very fingerprints nudging at your covered entrance. “Dirty little cunt needs a spanking, too, doesn’t she?”

Embarrassingly, a mumbled, indecipherable sound croaks out of you, and your entire body flushes hot with an indignity you happen to relish.

“What was that?” He sounds like sex…like he’s thinking with his throbbing cock - but if your mind’s eye could see straight, you would know better. He is careful and controlled in these moments. Never losing sight of himself, never risking a move too far. “Aw, poor doll is just a dumb little baby, now? Spanked all quiet and wet? I like that, beautiful. I like that very much. No thoughts, right? Shh, no thoughts.”

Again, you manage merely a sound, a murmuring of his name no one but yourself could ever transcribe.

A violent strike buries its way into your covered folds. You jolt and cry out, writhing against his thighs, fighting for more.

You want him inside in any capacity. Fingers, tongue, cock..it matters not, just inside. That’s the only word you seem to know in this moment - inside, inside, inside. But with another sound slap against your cunt, it explodes through your nerve endings like a wire kicking up sparks and skittering against desolate, lonely pavement. You’re climaxing hard and fast, releasing all over the fleece covering his thighs, thrusting against nothing, mourning the heat of his impact though it was there for but a breath.

“Yes!” It wails out of you, warbling and wild…teeth clenched and grinding, body wound so tightly your muscles will protest and complain later.

There will come a time tonight where you’ll long for a way to thank him. For a way to call his name and cradle his face and express your absolute gratitude for this blank slate he molds your mind into…for the way he takes all the ugly and chases it right out of your orbit…

But for now, you fall limp and spent against him. Breathing heavily and deeply. Drawing oxygen way down into your chest that no longer feels so tight. And for now he’ll hear no talk of reciprocation, for now he continues to cater to you with devotion in his touch and a worshipful cast in his gaze as he slips away to draw you a bath.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @poofyloofy @jakeslovehandles @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

[hihomeghere]

Charles fluff and maybe even a tad bit of angst given the prompts, who knows, but please write prompt 48 and 64 for Charles I will literally die of joy plus we need more fluffy fics of him <333

- ੈ✩ 🍡 ‧₊˚

Word count : 1230 Warnings/tags : love confessions, fluff, cursing Prompts : #48, You make me want things I can't have #64, I'm not sure what to do with these feelings for you hope you enjoy, smooches!

Charles was an enigma. Joining the gang nearly seven months ago, he seamlessly fit into the band of outlaws. He kept his head down, taking it upon himself to complete tasks before Miss Grimshaw lost her mind about them. 

Like a well oiled machine he moved around camp, fixing what needed to be fixed, getting done what needed to be done. Whether that be fixing a wagon wheel, or carrying bales over to the horses. He did it without complaint and unprompted. 

He moved like a shadow, silently, not speaking unless spoken to first. Even at that he would normally only respond with one word answers, yes, no. You had been wary of him at first. Not appreciating his almost cold presence. Although the longer you got to know him you saw through his standoffish persona, seeing the warm, passionate man underneath. To others he may have seemed unwelcoming, a puzzle that wasn’t worth solving. But you had always liked a challenge.

You couldn’t say what had first drawn you to him. It wasn’t like a moth to a flame, no. It was gradual, like a ship pulled towards a lighthouse. Something about him was like a beacon, calling to you across the stormy seas of life. Perhaps it was the way the morning light fell against his dark locs, deep golden beams cutting through his silky strands. Or the way the firelight made his umber skin glow as he sat around the fire. Always offering his assistance when anyone seemed to struggle. His near obsidian eyes piercing your very soul every time they found yours. You picked him apart piece by piece, longing for him to bear the most intimate parts to you.

Or maybe it was because he played so damn hard to get. You thought you were being obvious in your affection. If it was anyone else, even someone as daft as Sean would have realized your intentions.

Instead, when you asked for him to accompany you to the general store, or if he wouldn’t mind your company around the fire, he would only give you a small nod. It was infuriating. Either he was too kind to reject your advances, or he seriously couldn’t see how much you cared for him.

But you were not a woman to give up so easily, you doubled down your efforts. You would go out of your way to interact with him. Damn near running to grab a seat near him whenever you heard him start to play the harmonica. Your eyes constantly searched for him at camp, which did earn you a scolding or two when you were supposed to be doing chores. It was well worth Miss Grimshaw’s tongue lashing every time.

How were you supposed to focus when he would bring that axe down, his arms glistening with sweat. Or when his skillful fingers fashioned poisoned arrows, grinding up the Oleander he had carefully picked. 

He was kind, thoughtful with a dry sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. You would consider him a friend even if you wanted something more. The thought that you could ruin what you had between the two of you, just because of your traitorous heart, ran a chill through you. A few times you had suspected he might feel the same, but nothing would come from a lingering glance or his fleeting touch.

Any time you had a free moment you would come up with something to talk to him about. Karen and the other girls had taken to teasing you. Although their words caused heat to flood your cheeks, you knew they weren’t wrong. You were sweet on him. Perhaps you weren't as clear in your feelings as you hoped, perhaps you needed to bite the bullet and just come clean about your feelings.

“Charles, do you have a moment?” You asked, giving him a small smile. Hoping your calm demeanor would hide the anxiety building under the surface. Butterflies erupting in your stomach as his dark eyes found yours.

“For you, always.” He nodded, setting down the piece of wood he was whittling. You discreetly wiped your sweaty palms off on your skirt as he got to his feet. “Lead the way.”

The two of you walked down to the sandy shore near camp. Staring out at the rippling surface of Flat Iron lake. 

“Charles I-“ you bit your lip, the words getting caught in your throat as you looked up at him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Alright…” His tone was apprehensive as he looked at you.

“I…” You picked at your fingers, sinking slightly into the sand below your feet. “I care for you.” You said raising your eyes to meet him. 

His face was near emotionless other than the small furrow of his brows. 

“I care for you and-“

“Don’t.” He cut you off, his jaw clenched as his hands landed on his hips. “Don’t say anymore.” You swallow thickly, trying to get past the lump that’s growing in your throat. Your heart sinking like a stone into your stomach.

“I just- I don’t know what to do with these feelings for you.” You said softly, his rejection stinging like a slap to the face. He squeezed his eyes shut, like your words were physically paining him.

“Damn it you-“ He sighed, shaking his head, “you make me want things I can’t have.”

“What?” You asked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. 

“You. You make me want you and I- I can’t have you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted you. Your mouth fell open, stunned to silence by his confession. He let out a frustrated sigh, turning to walk away from you. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“Why the hell not?” You asked, shaking your head.

“Y/n, look at me. Look at us. We’re from two different worlds and I won’t- I won’t subject you to my suffering.” He finished, anguish shining in his eyes. 

“When have we ever played by the rules?” You scoffed lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t care. I don’t care where you come from, I just care about you. Who you are.” You raised your hand slowly, giving him all the time to pull away. You cupped his face, running your thumb over his scarred cheek. “I- I’m falling for you Charles.” You admitted.

“Damn it.” He sighed, his eyes shut tight as he looked down. As though he was wrestling with himself, eventually one side won. His eyes raised to meet yours, nearly taking your breath away as he caught your gaze. 

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. You squeaked, your body tensing before you melted into his embrace. Your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him close.

The two of you parted for air, his forehead resting against yours. “You have no idea how hard this has been, trying to avoid you, ignore you, your touches,” He mumbled against your lips. “You’ve driven me crazy.” A smile spread across his lips.

“Drove you crazy? I was suspecting you might just be oblivious.” You chuckled breathlessly, shaking your head as you cupped his cheek. He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. 

“Not oblivious, just a fool.”

[secretsandwriting]

Hermit love confessions

Ren, Mumbo, Doc, and Tango.

Pulled this one out of the drafts for you so @etsumumoo hand it over babe

Ren

You sighed as you looked out your window. It had been clear and sunny before breakfast and almost as soon as you were done eating, the sky opened and rain poured down. Normally, you didn’t mind the rain, enjoying the excuse for a break or working on your interiors. But it had rained for two days and you desperately wanted to work on the walls to the next part of your mega base.

In the two days it had been raining, you had done all of your interiors, finished the book you had been in the middle of, and taken at least three naps. You were out of things to do and from the looks of the sky, the entire day would be filled with rain.

Your sulking was interrupted by a banging on your door. Curious as to who had come out all this way in the rain, you slid to the door and opened it to find a soaked Ren. He was grinning ear to ear and you could see his tail wagging rapidly behind him. His good mood was contagious and you found yourself grinning back at him.

“Ren! To what do I owe the pleasure?” his grin got impossibly bigger.

“Well my fair beauty, it is raining! So I have come to request a dance!” He placed a juke boy down on the ground under your roof's Overhang and slipped your favorite disk in before holding his hand out to you. Glancing behind him at the rain, you decided, why not. You could ahrays blame your blush on the chill.

"I would love a dance!" You placed your hand on his and let him pull you into the cool rain. Your free hand went into his and you found yourself giggling as he led you in an overly dramatic Waltz.

Asyou twirled around with Ren, you found yourself gazing into his eyes. It wasn't often you got to see him without his Sunglasses and every time you found yourself lost in his gorgeous eyes.

"I love you." Ren's voice broke you out of your trance as well as stopping your movement. Ren stood in front of you still holding onto your hands. You took a second to gather your Thoughts so you could actually respond and not just stare at him with your mouth hanging open.

I love you too. Ren immediately perked up even more and dragged you into a Kiss before Playing another disk and leading you around in circles to the Sound of whatever disk the two of you decided on.

your rainy days were no longer a curse. They became a day of Ruddles, dancing, and whatever else Ren came up with.

Mumbo

When Grian had told you he needed to test something that you might die in, you said No. When he offered you a reward if you did it, you said yes. you put your things in a chest and Set your Spawn in the nearby bed.

what you didn't expect was to be dropped into an obsidian Box with Mumbo. When you glance up at the hole you fell in, you were met with a smirking Scar before he was blocked with another block of Obsidian.

It was very obvious neither of you really knew what to do, So you just sat there and listened as he nervously rambled about his redstone, asking a question here or There to Keep him talking So you weren't sitting in an awkward silence. Despite the fact Mumbo was clearly unsure of his situation which of course caused him to stutter a little more than normal, you found yourself relaxing. That was until Grian broke a block and yelled in.

"Just confess already!" The block was replaced and you and Mumbo sat in Silence, avoiding looking in the others direction. Neither of you seemed to know how to move on from that.

Clearly you had made a big mistake when you told Grian about your crush on Mumbo. You figured that would be Something Grian wouldn't spill, understanding that was something to be kept private. Unless…

You glanced up at Mumbo and found him looking at you, seemingly putting together the Pieces you were. Once it clicked he snorted and started laughing, you followed shortly behind.

"You told Grian about a crush didn't you?" Mumbo asked when he caught his breath. you nodded. "So it's Safe to assume We're both locked in here due to the fact that Grian found out about our mutual crushes and dragged Scar into his planning."

"Probably. Do you want to sort this out now or work on payback first?" Mumbo scooted over to your side, his warmth was a nice welcome from the cold obsidian.

"Payback of course." Neither of you mentioned how close you Sat, or the fact your hands ended up intertwined. You both knew how this would end, but first you Wanted a little revenge.

Doc

You were basing with Doc this season which had not been the best choice in hindsight. Between him trying to break the server, creating huge redstone machines that sometimes lagged so bad you'd end up dead, and your growing crush that made you worry too much when he overworked himself, you were not having a good time.

There were some nice moments but all of those contributed to your crush so it wasn'tmaking it any easier for you.

This time, Doc was working on another huge project. You weren't sure what it was, he hadn't told you but he was overworking himself more than normal which said a lot.

So you took it upon yourself to go find him and try to convince him to rest a little bit, the phantoms spawning led you right to him. The amount of them was worrying. Wandering around the machine, you looked for him. finding him tucked away into a corner working on some wires. You made sure to make lots of noise when walking up so you hopefully wouldn't scare him.

"Not now. I need to finish this."

"Doc, it's been six days you need to rest."

"No, I need to finish this!" He snapped

"Doc, there are phantoms swarming outside. You need to take a break. I made your favorite for dinner so please at least eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Doc y-" He cut you off.

"No! I need to get this done. When I'm done I'll rest and eat but for now i need to work. Besides, there's no reason for you to care this much!"

"I need you to stop and think for a second because there's no way you can fully believe i'm not head over heels in love with your stupid oblivious self!" You didn't mean to let that slip bit it was too late to back out now.

"You're in love with me?"

"Doc, I wouldn't be putting up with everything I do if I wasn't. Now can we please go back to the house so you can eat an actual meal and get some rest?"

Y/n: Help! I broke Doc!

Xisuma: How?

Y/n: I was trying to convince him to take a break and we argued and i ended up telling him i was in love with him and he isn't moving anymore!

Xisuma: I don't think thats something i can fix

Tango

Someone had decided it would be a good idea to bring alcohol to the party. It was not a good idea. It was a very bad idea.

Tango was drunk. Not only was he drunk but he was a clingy drunk who liked professing his love for you to anyone who would listen. You weren't sure how to take it honestly.

Your crush of three seasons was grabbing onto you and whispering just how much he loved you into your ear. Everyone else loved it and was encouraging it. Everytime you left his grasp, his ruby eyes would start filling with tears and you couldn't help but let him latch back onto you.

Once the Party ended you found your sheet in charge of taking care of I drunk blaze. Which was surprisingly easy. Tango was very happy to listen to you as long as you were very close or responded to his "I love you's" with one of your own, or if you called him a nickname.

However, no matter what you tried, he wouldn't go to his base. He only wanted to go to yours. He wouldn't even go in for a change of clothes without you right by his side. Once you had finally gotten him into pajamas, you headed to your base.

Once at your base you had to convince him to let go of you enough for you to change and go to the bathroom and then to let you go to the Kitchen to grab him some water for the morning.

"Sorry darling, I just need to go grab a glass of water for you. Why don't you warm the bed up while I grab it?" Tango was more than happy to comply with the nickname and Special task you gave him. Hopefully he would be asleep when you came back. Stress had slipped you a bottle of hangover recovery meds when it became obvious Tango would only go home with you. Tango was still awake When you made it back to your room. He had enough patience to wait While you put the recommended amount next to the glass.

You climbed into bed next to him and the second he could he curled around you. You waited, until he was comfortable to adjust. Tango was out cold before you finished.

The next morning, Tango woke up in an unfamiliar room with a Killer headache. After pulling himself VP into a sitting position and noticed the water and pills on the nightstand and chugged them down, hoping they would work fast. While he waited for them to Kick in, he laid down and hoped he didn't make a fool of himself.

He had made a fool of himself. As the medicine kicked in the memories started flooding back. Not only had he confessed but he had been clinging to you and had to be convinced into letting you go. What did you think of him now? Slowly making his way downstairs, he tried to ignore What was left of his headache and the anxiety burning in his stomach.

He found you in the Kitchen making breakfast and decided if he could do it drunk, he could do it sober. Was it a good idea? Probably not but he was going to commit to it. so he moved behind you and tucked himself around you. His arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder.

"sorry." You snorted

"Its ok. It will be a fun story to tell." Tango groaned in embarrassment and you laughed at his misery. "Does your head hurt? ll He nodded into your shoulder. "Did you take the meds?" another nod. "After breakfast you can go lay down again. I'll make sure I'm quiet."

Tango perked up when he realized you weren't sending hin home. In fact, you hadn't moved away when he came behind you.

"I love you."

"I love you too Tango. If you would please let go of me So I can grab something out of the oven I would greatly appreciate it." Tango retreated to the table and wwatched you move around the kitchen, suddenly very glad he got drunk.

[shadowdaddies]

Hi! Idk if you still take request or not. If not just ignore me. Anyway, can I request a poly fic with Nessian x shy reader please?

Hi! Yes I'm accepting requests, thank you for sending this one in💜

A/N: this is shy reader but also introverted reader, featuring bestie Az because I know he'd understand too💅

As Long as I Have You

poly!Nessian x Reader

warnings: Keir����

Inhaling a shaky breath, you smoothed out the skirts of your dress and inspected yourself in the mirror. The deep cut, midnight black dress shimmered in the faelight - a beautiful gown indeed, but a far cry from your typical style. No, this was the style of the Hewn City.

You had yet to venture to the Court of Nightmares - your soft, quiet nature at odds with the cruelty of that place. Your mates understood your aversion to the harsh side of the Night Court - in fact, it was one of the things they loved most about you. Nesta loved the quiet nights reading at home with you, while Cassian adored how you clung to his side for comfort at social events. They were incredibly protective over you, so while you felt comforted that they would not let anything bad happen to you at this Court of Nightmares ball, you were still extremely nervous.

Nesta appeared behind you, admiring your reflection in the mirror as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You look beautiful, love.” You blushed at her praise, watching how she smiled at your reaction to her words, gaze turning hungry as the faint scent of arousal traced through the air.

A deep laugh sounded from the doorway, Cassian leaning against the frame as he watched the two of you, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes drank in sight of you and Nesta together. “As much as I would love to stay and see what happens next, we are due in court.” His eyes turned soft as he looked at you, giving an encouraging smile. “We’ll be with you the whole time, sweetheart.”

You took his arm, Nesta on his other as the three of you made your way towards the ballroom. The hallways of graphic artworks and beastly sculptures only heightened your nerves, your grip on Cassian’s arm tightening. He looked down at you sympathetically. “You don’t have to go, angel. I can make an excuse to Rhys and Feyre if you want to go back to the room.” You shook your head. “I’m fine. It’s just the nerves, I don’t know how I will get along with these people.” Cassian barked out a laugh at that. “Sweetheart, you are too good to get along with these people. Just be yourself - you don’t owe it to anyone to impress them. We’re with you, and we love you,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

Nesta reached a hand around Cassian to squeeze your arm, and you were flooded with feelings of comfort. Arriving at the doors to the ballroom, they were pushed open to reveal a grand dance floor - pillars carved with night-blooming flowers lined the walls, completely carved in reflective obsidian stone. It was frighteningly beautiful. 

You felt a presence to your right, a shock of nerves as you prepared yourself for the first smalltalk of the evening. To your relief, it was Azriel who stood at your side. Giving you a soft smile, he murmured lowly so that no one else could hear, “if you get tired of those two dragging you around to meet everyone, you can come stand with me for some peace and quiet. Most people here know to steer clear of me.” You laughed softly, murmuring a “thank you” back to him. With that, Azriel gave you a wink, fading into the shadows and leaving you back with your mates - who were now leading you towards the tables of food.

Taking a glass of faewine, you turned to observe the sea of people surrounding you when a male with blonde hair approached you. His eyes raked over your form shamelessly as he purred, “hello, there. I don’t believe I have seen you here before.” You smiled, nerves overwhelming as you fumbled for words. You hadn’t expected anyone to be so forward. Blushing, you responded, “Oh- I, um... I haven’t been here before. Just here for the ball.” He flashed a smile that had you feeling queasy, when a familiar hand wrapped around your waist.

Nesta pulled you close to her. “Yes, Keir. She’s here for the ball. With her mates.” Your eyes widened as you realized who you were speaking to, only feeling comforted when you felt Cassian’s presence towering over you, Keir forced to look up into the Illyrian’s eyes. You had to admit the steward had nerve, sneering up at your mate before looking to you. “Pity. I would have expected you to keep better company than the Illyrian brute.” Your eyes widened, rage filling you as you prepared to lash out at Keir for insulting your mate. 

Nesta beat you to it, looking down her nose at Keir as she asked in a condescending tone, “and I suppose a weasel like you would be what you deign as ‘better’?” She gave him no time to answer before scoffing and pulling you away. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him. Just our luck that he would be the first person you meet tonight.” With a nervous laugh, you shyly admitted your discomfort. “I think I might have had my fill of meeting members of the Court of Nightmares for this evening. I’d rather enjoy the rest of the night with the two of you.” 

Cassian pulled you in close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sweetheart.” With a smile, Nesta glanced towards the dance floor and back to you. “One dance?” she asked with hopeful eyes. You nodded, eager to show off your mate. She took your hand, dragging you enthusiastically to the floor where you danced until you were exhausted, handing Nesta off to Cassian as they continued dancing.

You leaned against the cool obsidian walls, Azriel appearing in the shadows next to you with a drink in hand. “Here,” he said, handing it to you as he watched over the crowd. You thanked him, eagerly hydrating as you quietly observed the event with him. “You alright?” Az asked after awhile, cocking an eyebrow as he seemed to assess your state. You nodded. “I’m good. I love having mates who push me to meet new people, and go to events...” Azriel smirked. “Just not events like this one.” You laughed softly. “Exactly.”

It was then that Nesta and Cassian joined you, Nesta pulling you in for a hug as you rested your head on her shoulder. “What do you say we get out of here?” she murmured against your hair. You nodded, bidding Az goodbye as you exited the ballroom with your two mates. 

Once you were away from the prying eyes of courtiers, Cassian swept you into his arms, kissing down your neck before he pulled away. He and Nesta exchanged a glance as they each took one of your hands in theirs. “Nes, I think our girl had enough of being social for awhile, don’t you think?” Nesta hummed, her soft hand stroking yours as she pretended to ponder Cassian’s question. “I do. I think a few days in bed aught to make up for it,” she whispered, leaning in as her teeth tugged on your earlobe. 

Cassian didn’t hesitate to throw you over his shoulder at that, and you giggled, thinking you could handle another visit to the Court of Nightmares as long as you had your perfect mates there with you.

[signed-sapphire]

Okayyyy rewatched Wish

Here are my notes

Valentino wasn’t as annoying as people say. Sure, he did nothing for the plot and could’ve been removed entirely, but he didn’t make near as many butt jokes as people say he did

The lead-ins for all the songs were great. Certain media (Hazbin, for example) just jump into the songs

Magnifico??? Didn’t touch the pages??? So why would he be corrupted? Why does Amaya know of obsidian oil? Don’t you just skim the pages to release the evil?

Dahlia was amazing

“At the very least break the hold it has on him” Amaya? Didn’t you found this kingdom with thin? Wouldn’t you know?

Also Amaya was very sidelined. Where’s her backstory?

Asha’s magic wand mishaps were… corny at best

Why did they make Dario high all the time? He’s not stupid. I feel like they made him try to be like Fred from Big Hero 6 but failed

“Nine zillyboo, twenty alphabet!” Val, buddy. No.

DAHLIA. MATE. TRUE LOVE’S KISS CAN BRUNG HIM BACK I swear, it feels like the directors were switched

The spider-carriage thing. I feel like that could’ve been a Disney reference instead

Gabo was still my favorite out of the teens. Bazeema was sweet too

Also. Halzeema moments were actually in canon.

Sabino did not act 100 at all.

Crushing wishes did nothing to people except make them sad for .2 seconds

Asha’s drawing, her magic wand, none of that was important to the actual plot

I feel like the horses could’ve been Disney references too

Why did the roof open? That was never explained

Mag’s hair needed to be messier. Evil Magnifico? Crazy hair

How did he hear them from all the way down there

Mag’s really out there beating up a minor

The curse rope green things were not scary at all

Was Simon just in the forest the entire time?

The Magnifico getting sucked inside his staff… I feel that could’ve been a play to Dr. Facilier somehow

The stars raining down were beautiful

Was Star’s nose tap a reference to something?

The people’s talking… idk how I felt about that

WE 👏 SHOULD’VE 👏 SEEN 👏 SAKINA’S 👏 WISH

Another half-assed apology. First Namaari, now you. At least Simon’s was an actual apology. Wait. More of it goes on.

Ok his apology isn’t too bad

How did the staff get all the way down there?

Changed my opinion, Amaya deserved to tell Mag off

Did Mag’s curse break once he was in the mirror? Why did he act sad all of a sudden?

I’ve heard Asha’s movements weren’t finalized until later, but her movements seem pretty fluent

Clumsy and energetic, sure, but besides from the mouth drooping part, she wasn’t that quirky

Which. Could be a bad thing. She didn’t really have much of a personality

I like the Peter Pan building a flying machine idea

Zootopia ref

DARIO. SHUT UP

Why does everyone suddenly understand Star

But off-topic they were so cute

“It” I guess

Why refer to Star as an it

“They” was too woke for the Disney execs? Why, you had a one-second offhand comment about a water cousin who’s nonbinary!

That Cinderella-reference thing… wasn’t slow enough to be a dress transformation. So I’m fine with her not having a different dress. I mean obviously I would’ve loved it but idk

SHOW DON’T TELL, DISNEY

STOP TELLING

“I understand you well enough” I DON’T! HOW ARE THEY TELLING YOU

Some of Valentino’s jokes were funny. Sue me

I liked the Tinkerbell and Mikey Mouse reference at the end

The storybook was a nice callback

The credits should’ve been moving. Also CHOOSE BAYMAX TO REPRESENT BIG HERO 6. WHY HAVE VILLAINS LIKE MALEFICENT THERE

Overall. Not as bad as people are making it out to be. But definitely not worthy to be Disney’s 100

I’d say… 7/10. The backgrounds did look watercolor, but the shading seemed off in places. Especially Sakina. There was major improvement to be done, but with the hell the execs were giving (and the proven creativity of the concept art) I feel this movie is getting too much hate. Critiques and criticism are fine. But don’t blame the writers for getting rid of Starboy. Yes, it could’ve been better. But it’s Disney. And the creators tried their best to pour their love into a movie that they didn’t have a full say in.

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day Twenty-Eight : Knife Play Azriel x Female Reader

“Stay still for me, bunny.” Azriel murmured, as he dragged Truth-teller between and around your breasts. The tip of the blade circling your sensitive nipples, the coldness of it making them peak.

His experience showing by the way he moved the blade over your soft skin, applying enough pressure so he wouldn’t cut you but could still feel its sharpness.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, the cold sting of Truth-teller as Azriel dragged it from your breasts down to your navel making you shiver. His shadows were swirling around your nipples and in between your thighs. Moving lightly over your clothed clit causing you to buck your hips. Head thrown back in a breathy moan.

Azriel tsked at you, grabbing your jaw with his large scarred hand so you’d look at him, “Be still, or I stop.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved Truth-teller in between your slick folds. Pressing it against your swollen clit, the coldness of it making a whine escape your lips.

Still holding your jaw in his hands, he growled, “Are you going to be good ?” You nodded your head in agreement. But he pushed Truth-tellers cold hilt against you harder in reprimand before instructing you, “Good girls, use their words.”

“Yes.” You breathed.

Then Azriel’s lips were on yours, it was all teeth and tongue while he moved his hand, gliding Truth-teller through your soaked folds. He was swallowing your moans as you bucked your hips against his blade.

Then he pulled away. Hazel eyes bore into yours, then your form. Savoring the way your body was reacting to him, to his blade. The both of you knew he could hurt with it but he would never. You trusted him, but the thought of it had fire pooling in your tummy, as your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Az, Please !” You whimpered, eyes lining with tears.

“Tell me what you want, bunny.” He cooed as he moved your hair behind your ear.

“P-please fuck me !” You cried out, the desperation lacing your voice made his lips curve up in a wicked smirk.

You were about to beg him, when he was moving, settling in between your thighs. Truth-teller held firmly in his large scarred hand.

Eyes meeting his again, before he commanded, “Suck.”

Pushing his blade’s hilt between your lips, you swirl your tongue around it and hollow your cheeks out as if it was his cock. “Good girl.” He praised, eyes never leaving yours.

Once he was satisfied he pulled it out of your mouth, then moved it between your folds again. Breath hitching as he slowly buried Truth-tellers hilt inside of you.

Soft pants escaped your lips as he began moving it in and out of you. It felt… different but good. Trying not to tremble beneath him as the illyrian runes on Truth-tellers obsidian hilt massaged your inner walls. Hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

“Eyes on me, bunny.” He grunted as he clutched Truth-tellers blade tighter, fucking you faster with it. You scented his blood in the air, but he didn’t care he was only looking at you. “Eyes on me, when you cum.” You nodded.

Azriel’s words pushed you over the edge. A cry leaving your plush bitten lips as your shattered underneath him. He didn’t relent, working you through your orgasm, his name a prayer on your lips. Until you were a satisfied whimpering mess.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[fruitcoops]

Bam-Boo!

Day 10: tattoo artist/ flower shop owner because...what the hell else would Mr Walker dream of, other than his hot goth-jock girlfriend? Never passing up that opportunity. Characters belong to @lumosinlove and header/ fest credit goes to @noots-fic-fests!

Day Nine movie: Jaws (1975)

“Stunning.”

A slitted brow rose. Thomas wanted to melt into the concrete like a sad, sad ice cream cone on a hot beach.

Your sign. Your art. Your face. “Plant?” he offered, holding the terracotta pot up between them.

The woman’s suspicion faded into surprise. She looked between them at the vibrant leaves (Thomas had made sure it was his best, and the same color as her eyes, not that she needed to know that) and smiled.

She smiled.

Smiled.

“Mint,” she said, and then there were dimples. “How did you know?”

Thomas swallowed. “Shot in the dark. Your window was empty.”

“Ouais. Still moving in.”

French. Oh, god. “It’s a hard one to kill.”

“I know.” Her fingernails were short and painted a glossy jet black, like thin pieces of obsidian. She took one leaf gently between her thumb and forefinger, then looked up at him with blinding curiosity. “My mother has it in her garden back home.”

“Where’s home?” Thomas asked before he could choke it back into a friendly hum.

But she answered anyway. “Québec. A lake town outside Montréal.”

“Sounds beautiful.”

“Stunning,” she agreed, grinning. Thomas was grateful for his nigh-invisible blush, because his face was in absolute flames.

“I meant—I meant the store,” he managed lamely.

The woman gave him a look. “Did you?”

Yes. Maybe. “Mostly.”

“Quel dommage.”

“Damage?” Thomas frowned at the storefront behind her. “Is it the plumbing? Mine is always acting up because of the irrigation systems. They’re old buildings, sometimes those things crap out—sorry, fail.”

She was still looking at him, expectant and amused. Thomas’ mouth was chalk-dry.

“I could take a look for you,” he offered. “Just…to make sure it’s working.”

Her gaze pierced his soul the same as a thin silver hoop pierced her upper ear. A wisp of her hair flitted in front of it on the next gust. Thomas flexed his hand at his side and forced himself to remain motionless. “Noelle,” she finally said.

His heart stuttered. “Christmas?”

“My name,” she corrected. Her face sparkled. “My name is Noelle, and I would very much appreciate it if you came in to take a look sometime.”

“Oh.” Very much appreciate it. Her name was Christmas, and she very much appreciated him. “Well. I would be happy to.”

Her clunky black boots squeaked at a slight rock forward and back. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed.

“Thank you for the mint.”

“You’re welcome.” She was playing with the leaves again, her hand so close he could see each silver ring and had to quickly look away. A fleur-de-lis had been inked in black behind her silver hoop. Who had done it for her? A coworker at the parlor? A friend? Did she do her own tattoos?

Noelle had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes despite the boots. “I use it in my tea.”

“You have tea?”

“Mhm. Every night.”

“That sounds nice.” He was going to faint. On the ground.

“It is.” Her sweater looked warm, but she still shivered at the next bit of wind that rustled the crunchy leaves down the sidewalk. They’d make it inside by nightfall. Probably.

Thomas might just stay here, now that he thought about it, frozen between his cheerful You Grow, Girl! welcome mat and her own bat-themed one.

“It’s better when it’s fresh,” Noelle continued with half a shrug. “So. Merci beaucoup.”

“We have a lot of extra, if this one doesn’t work out.”

She made a little humming sound, life-green eyes darting over his face and hands and apron and why had he not left his apron inside? “I think it will,” she said decisively.

“Don’t jinx the poor guy,” Thomas tried to joke, giving the mint a light shake. “That’s bad luck he doesn’t need.”

Noelle kept on smiling, like she had no idea what it did to him. “I’ll come by tomorrow for flowers. For the shop.”

For you, Thomas decided right then and there. They’ll all be for you. “Let me know what you like, and I’ll have it ready.”

“I’m sure I’ll find something.” That Mona Lisa smile. She took the pot between callused palms, holding it gently near the rim and under the base. A bit of graphite and ink stained the heels of her hands. He had missed it before. Her eyelashes looked impossibly thick when she glanced up at him. “Any care instructions?”

“Um.” Nothing. Blankness. What was mint, again? “Light and water, mostly. There’s a packet of plant food in the top to start him out while he adjusts.”

Noelle brought the plant up to cover one half of her face. “Feed me,” she joked in a low growl, wiggling the leaves at him. He laughed; the weight across his shoulders grew light. Noelle’s grin widened, all white teeth and a light rose flush to her cheeks.

“I’ll be in at eight tomorrow,” Thomas said before he could chicken out.

Noelle gave a crisp nod. “À demain…?”

“Thomas.” He sounded hoarse even to his own ears. “Thomas Walker.”

She cradled the pot in one hand and waved with the other, stepping back toward the rich black lace and neon purple adorning from her front windows. “See you tomorrow, Thomas Walker.”

Thomas stayed on the sidewalk after all, sneakers refusing to budge. The bell above her door jingled as it shut behind her. “Bye, Christmas,” he whispered to nobody at all.

[sonicasura]

More info on the Nobody Like You AU! I figured why not expand more about it! Now let's get started!

Edit: Someone actually made a fic of this on AO3. (They got my permission btw!)

Kafka's Kaiju form looks similar to canon but with the differences I mentioned in Always A Kaiju. His adult form is around 70 meters in size, he has large obsidian wings outlined by luminous green bone, a long tail ending with a scythe-like blade, long jagged dorsal plates that go down from his neck to tail, and completely green glowing eyes bearing X shaped pupils. A huge contrast compared to when he was a little kid.

Kid!Kafka basically looks like a chubby baby version of his canon kaiju form. The man was barely corgi sized at the start! He really began to grow once he started to reach adolescence. Traits such as his wings, tail blade, and unique pupils begin to crop up during his teenage years. (Yes he does take Soshiro for a flight a few times.)

Kafka knew his size would eventually become a problem. It's more difficult to sneak around and he couldn't sneak onto Hoshina Clan property anymore as he would be so easy to spot. He never thought about trying to become human until Kafka eavesdropped on an outdoor viewing of Ponyo.

Whenever he's in a slump, the Kaiju often sneak over to an outdoor movie theater and watch whatever they're playing. An argument for Soshiro was enough to warrant this. Kafka knew he could shift his body but it's an ability he never bothered to test.

Watching Ponyo gave him enough determination to try. He wanted to continue seeing Soshiro and his foster mother Sakuya. Thus Kafka got to work in figuring out how to become human. From experimenting with his shifting abilities to reading up on human anatomy.

Although one thing Kafka really needed to improve was human interaction. He has only spoken to two people and that's not enough to help him blend in. Thus the man often sought out people to talk to once he got used to moving around as a human.

Kafka's most important ally in this endeavor is Mina Ashiro. He had accidentally bumped into her during a walk. The kaiju in disguise noticed how lonely she seemed to be thus struck up a conversation. Mina would quickly become his best friend and gave Kafka some pretty solid advice on certain things.

This includes how to court Soshiro as he had no clue on 'dating'. It was a very pleasant surprise to learn his lover would be in the same Division as her. Mina was also Kafka's Maid of Honor for their wedding.

Now he hasn't told her what he really is. Kafka had learned how much Mina hated kaiju and was honestly scared that their friendship would end if she ever found out. He hated lying to her but knew nothing good would come out of telling the truth. Soshiro usually has to reassure Kafka about the topic. However this was a secret only his husband could tell and he wouldn't push him to make such a decision.

Kafka joins the Monster Sweepers for two different reasons. The first being it pays quite well as he does need money to spoil himself and his mate. His second reason is that it's a quick meal. Kafka often dug through the trash when he was younger because it's where a good chunk of a kaiju corpse goes after clean up.

The company wouldn't care much if portions mysteriously disappeared over time and he's least likely to get in trouble should he be caught by taking the job. Similar to Mina, he cherishes the bond he shares with the Monster Sweepers. Kafka's less scared of asking 'hypothetical' questions about his true form to them than her.

When they became adults, Soshiro did ask his lover just how big his kaiju form had gotten. Cue one impromptu (and concerning for the Hoshina) middle of nowhere country side trip. A thought proven right as he watched Kafka turn into a 70 m titan. The himbo obviously cracks a monster movie joke to ease the tension. Nothing like a laugh to help Soshiro deal with the fact he's in love with the next King of the Kaiju.

Hibino became a middle name for the couple once the two married. It was too important for Kafka to replace as it reminded him of his human foster mother's kindness. Even moreso because she perished during No.6's attack.

One of the few times Kafka ever went berserk against another Kaiju. He was lucky that he kept himself in check enough to stay at a human size and avoid detection. Soshiro took some months off to comfort his lover for his loss.

Kafka has met his lover's family when he got a good grasp of human interaction and his human form. Thus he avoided the whole approval process when Soshiro announced they were dating. One of the things Kafka took up to impress them was cooking.

He does experiment with different ingredients which includes kaiju meat but he reserved that bit to himself. Snacking on human food made the man quite the foodie. Plus he loves seeing Soshiro smile as he offers him a homemade Mont Blanc.

Kafka makes his appearance during the Tachikawa Invasion. Soshiro had invited him over for the party. Kafka stealthily dispatched some of the wyvern kaiju without being spotted but he had to transform to stop the bomb.

Everyone made assumptions about the Vice Captain's husband being replaced. That is until Soshiro raised his sword at them when some officers aimed their guns at Kafka. Only the Third Division knows the truth about the two lovers under Mina's orders. It's one of the few times that Soshiro was glad for his family's influence.

The Defense Force is eventually told once a case is built for Kafka. With how things are ramping up, it would be a matter of time anyway. Soshiro would rather strike first with his husband's approval than leave it up to fate.

@noodlesbf-blog @iceclew @omniithe-deer @renard-dartigue @drmarune @kafkahibinomybeloved @terra-sketches

[tequila-solar-storm]

Author, I'm monopolizing your inbox at this point lmao

I've been pondering this all day but do you think Kinich celebrates his birthday?? I feel like he won't, he might either despise that date or just.. completely ignore it, even forget it perhaps (?)

To the point that no one really knows when his birthday is (elder Leik probably knows but would respect his son desire to just... Do nothing about it)

Mualani and Kachina might have tried to pry a little but ultimately gave up on the matter however sometimes Kachina will give him some shiny rocks (obsidian) because they were pretty and she had some spares! Kinich might also use then to make arrowheads or smth! And Mualani might invite him on a treck to somewhere because traveling is always more enjoyable in company! In other words they'll make sure that kinich will know they care about him and they don't really need a specific date of the year as an excuse to show their affection (and give him gifts!)

On the matter of gift giving I hc Kinich always knowing what's the right gift for someone. They'll be always practical gifts and alway appreciated (I'm craving Kinich knitting stuff for his friends after yesterday's talk ahhhh)

I forgot about Kinich liking spicy food!! Hopefully elder Leik can handle them lol it'll be cute if he just made a portion for him with a normal spice level and the rest for himself which would be just pure edible(are we sure about that?) lava

—🌻

Previous Post

If anyone out there is hesitating on sending an ask, this is your cue! I love receiving messages, sharing headcanons, discussing characters etc. so please flood my inbox with all your ideas!!

As for you, 🌻 Anon, feel free to keep monopolising my inbox for the time being. I love it 😆

Response under the cut!

I don’t think Kinich despises his birthday. He just can’t be bothered with it! Even though Ajaw keeps giving him ‘helpful’ tips (‘If you publicise your birthday, everyone’s obligated to give you gifts and birthday mora!!’ ‘Ajaw shush’) it’s more of the fact he doesn’t like receiving gifts without giving something back? He’s pretty big on the whole equivalent exchange thing, after all! He has a good memory so he does still remember his birthday, and I do think Leik would make it a habit to eat out with him on those days!

He’s generally an open guy, so I doubt he’d keep his date of birth from his friends if they ask. But if he does for whatever reason I think Mualani will figure it out anyways. How? Annoying him to death.

She’ll show up at his door with cake and party poppers being like ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ and when he tells her it’s not his birthday she’ll go ‘okie dokie!’, keep note of it, and then do it again the next day and the next and the next until Kinich caves and tells her the actual date. Kinich doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at Mualani’s genius. Ajaw, meanwhile, is disappointed because no more free cake for him 😖

Kachina will be way more shy about it but yes!! She’ll definitely give him presents even outside his birthday! She’ll tell him ‘These are spares so you’re doing me a favour when taking them’ but Kinich knows she’s finding excuses. Still, he loves seeing the joy on her face when he accepts, so he plays along! Besides, being the smart cookie (Thankfully not Mualani’s brand of ingenuity) that she is, all her gifts are super practical! Such as the obsidian for making arrowheads that you mentioned!

While less often, Kinich will give them presents as well! It’s usually when he notices things about them. Maybe Kachina’s gloves are worn out, or Mualani’s backpack has a hole in it. He’ll happily knit them replacements! Even if his gifts inevitably get worn out in the future, you bet the girls will still keep them!

You can pry the headcanon that they often go on camping trips or long treks together out of my cold dead hands. I mean, they clearly were camping together during that one promotional poster where Ajaw’s very hilariously tugging on Kinich’s headband while the girls danced! In this trio of best friends, no one will go unloved!

There’s two scenarios that can unfold with Elder Leik and spicy food:

One: Kinich makes the food an acceptable level of spice. He plops one portion in front of Leik, kisses his dad’s cheek, and proceeds to dump an entire market’s worth of spices into his own portion. This is the cute scenario!

Two: Leik loves spicy food even more than Kinich so their meals are just. Lava. Picture Leik pulling out a lunchbox during a meeting with the other elders being like “My son made this for me 🥰🥰🥰” and by simply looking at his food the rest of the elders spontaneously set on fire. This is the less cute but significantly funnier option!!

[icycoldninja]

I had this idea in my mind forever and it’s so cute :D!!! Basically DMC 4 Dante x wife reader who he saves her from a demon attack and afterwords she reviles that she is pregnant with there child

Oh yes, of course! Enjoy!

Home invasion (DMC4! Dante x Fem!Reader)

It had been a week since you took that pregnancy test after a rather passionate night with your husband Dante, where your soon-to-be motherhood was revealed. You were ecstatic, but unfortunately, weren't able to break the news to Dante because he'd left on an urgent mission, promising he'd return within a few hours.

You were sitting on your living room couch, caressing your stomach, daydreaming about how you and your baby's lives will play out. You wondered if you'd have a boy or a girl--or maybe even twins. Or triplets. Or quadruplets. Or...what was the word for 5 children born at once?

You didn't really have time to ponder the thought because you heard a low rumbling coming from ouside your living room window. Curious, you got up from your seat and peeked out the window, only to find yourself face to face with a growling, fanged demon, the only thing in between you and the vicious beast being the thin pane of glass making up your window.

Screaming, you turned and ran, barely managing to get out of the living room before the demon burst through the window and crashed into your house, snarling and clawing at the carpet. You ran through the halls of your own home, feeling more like a mouse running from a predator than anything else. You rounded the corner and dashed into your kitchen, snatching up the nearest kitchen knife in the process. You then hurried to a vacant closet and threw yourself into that, breathing heavily. Outside, you could hear the sounds of the demon tramping around, looking for you. Its clawed feet thumped against the floor; its low, bloodthirsty grumbles sent jolts of fear up your spine. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself and biting down on your lip hard to keep yourself quiet.

Dante, where was Dante? You never needed him more than you did now; you would have given absolutely anything for him to be here at this moment. You didn't have your phone with you, so there was no way you could call him for help. At the moment, you were trapped, hiding from a demon in a closet in your own kitchen.

You were shaking all over, hands clamped against over your mouth in an attempt to keep your whimpers of fear from escaping you. The demon stalking your hallways had searched the rest of the house already; you could tell because you heard the crashing and banging. It was only a matter of time before it got to the kitchen, and when it did, you would have no way to defend yourself save for with the knife clenched tightly in your hand.

The demon was getting closer; you could hear the sick gurgles rumbling from its' throat. You gripped the knife tighter and held it aloft in front of the closet door, fearfully awaiting the demon to open the door, where you would bring the weapon down upon it. Hopefully, at the very least, you'd be able to distract it long enough for you to escape. The inevitable soon came; the horrifically loud scraping of the demon's talons against your kitchen floor assaulted your ears, the stench of the demon's rotting body filling your nostrils. God, it was horrible. The demon neared your hiding place; you could hear its' breathing growing louder and louder. In the blink of an eye, it had lodged its' talons into the closet door, obsidian claws sinking into the wood like it were made of paper. In a second, the door was torn off its hinges and your arms were pinned above your head by the demon's powerful limbs. The knife you had planned to attack it with clattered uselessly to the floor; your plan had failed.

You stared up at the monster before you, tears brimming in your eyes. This couldn't be the end--you'd literally just found out you were pregnant! You were young, you still had so much life left to live! You simply couldn't die like this. It was wrong!

You shut your eyes, hoping that in the very least it would be a quick death, one you wouldn't have to see.

You waited, and waited, but the end never came. There was a choked gurgle, the sound of something splattering onto the floor, and then a gunshot. You opened your eyes in astonishment, shocked to see the demon, with the tip of a sword protruding from its chest, topple over into a pool of its' own blood, revealing your savior.

You'd never been more thankful to see that white hair and those shiny blue eyes in your life.

"Hey, babe," Dante whispered, lowering his sword, dropping to his knees, and holding his arms out. "I'm home." Tears streaming down your cheeks, you ran into your husband's arms, wrapping your arms around him tightly and sobbing. "I was so scared!" You wailed, burying your face in his chest. "I know, baby," He responded, holding you close and kissing your forehead. "You alright? Not hurt or anything, are ya?" You shook your head, wiping your eyes and smiling up at him. "I'm not hurt, and neither is the baby."

Dante took a second to process that. Once his brain translated and relayed the message to his emotional center, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "What?" Was all he could croak out. You nodded, your smile growing wider. "That's right," You squealed, "I'm pregnant!" Dante gasped, then let out some loud laughter before strangling you with a hug. "That's amazing!" He shouted, immediately smushing his lips against yours. "So awesome...we having a boy or a girl?" You laughed, snuggling into his hold. "How would I know, silly? I took the test earlier this morning."

[nica-my-beloved]

Gilbert von Obsidian, the main reason why I started playing Ikemen Prince. The main reason I started playing Ikemen games at all. Your route was so much fun, I can't explain.

Gilbert's route is not a route. It's basically a chessboard that we watch Gilbert play from both sides. Yes, it's a one-sided chess game and it's fun to watch. Really fun to watch! I was getting so hooked-up with the story and ended up falling in love with it.

👇👇👇Spoilers 👇👇👇

I think the fun part of Gilbert's route is uncovering his secrets slowly. For example, What is he hiding? Why did he change into....a beast? How does he know so much about Emma? What is his main goal here? All these questions get's answered in a well-crafted way in his story.

Gilbert is one of those characters who on the outside has all the characteristics as a villain but in reality he's a pure-hearted man who sacrificing everything for the better future of his country. Everyone just judges Gilbert based on rumors and what the previous Emperor of Obsidian did (I'm talking about the Bloodstained Rose Day). They all call him names like the 'Conqueror of Beasts' and 'Worldwide disaster' just because he's from Obsidian, a country known for corruption. But once you actually find out Gilbert's ambitions and what he's doing for his country, I just think he's a pretty cool guy. He's an anti-villain disguised as a villain.

His ambition to make sure everyone is being treated equally whether its royalty or a commoner and everyone should be punished for the crimes that they have committed and no one could gain favorable advantages because of their status, is truly remarkable. On top of that, he's not all fighting and conquering every nations he sees. He also works hard to make sure his country is doing better for his people. I'm talking about their food supply and technology upgrades. It does hurts me that Gilbert is only known as a 'Worldwide disaster' around the other nations especially in Rhodolite, instead of getting praised for developing his country and helping his people. People really like to look at only the bad side of a person, don't you think?

Gilbert also in his own way is trying to eradicate as much corruption and decay from his country. Starting with killing his own father, the Emperor because if the Emperor ain't doing anything for his people, he should either step down as an Emperor and let someone else more competent take the throne or just die. Neither happened, so Gilbert killed him to eliminate that threat. Then his killed of any corrupted nobles and that's why Obsidian is called the Country of Soldiers, because everyone inside the palace is a soldier (Including the maids, I guess)

Also, maybe it's only me, but I prefer the design of the Obsidian palace over the Rhodolite one. The Rhodolite palace is prettier-looking, covered with roses from head to toe every where both inside and outside. The Obsidian palace on the outside looks like a Haunted Castle that might eat you up, but in the inside, the ambience suites me perfectly. I don't really like too much light pouring inside my room.

Another thing I like about Obsidian palace is how Gilbert made sure everyone inside the palace who works for him is talented in their field of job. He recognizes talent over any kind of nepotism or status. Although Gilbert's ambition is to make sure that all people are to be treated equally, he's still feared by many ministers in the parliament. I think that's a good thing because it's good to be feared and having people do what you're asking for instead of letting them trample over you. Gilbert used to be like Emma, where he loved everyone and was kind to everyone. But since humans are the worst kinds of beasts, they will surely trample on kindness of people like Emma or former Gilbert. I'm not saying being kind is foolish but one should never let anyone trample over them for any reason. For example, we see Emma getting wrongfully bullied by some nobles just because she hangs out with Gilbert. Emma, for being a commoner gets bullied and other nobles or princes who talks with Gilbert, never. What frustrates me even more is that Emma just never stand up to her bullies and always let them have their way. I don't see any of the Rhodolite princes help her (except for one time when Yves caught that one noblewoman). When Gilbert clearly asks her, she calls him a beast and doesn't tell him. Honestly, I felt like Gilbert was the only one protecting her at that point, Emma was just being clouded by rumors about Gilbert where he's treated as the Voldemort of this world. He who-should-not-be-named!

I'm happy that later she does realize that she shouldn't be blinded by these rumors and must look at Gilbert objectively. Looking him as a human rather than a beast, but it's good thing that she admits her mistake. For her, she was like "I can fix him. I will bring him to my world which is filled with kindness and warmth and I can fix him and turn him into a human." and what does Gilbert do? He enters her world and paints it all black. Great job👍

Speaking of Emma, I love that Gilbert keeps giving her a reality check. Emma's whole ideals about fixing problems by talking things through is not a bad thing, but it's not effective in the current situation because of the tragedy known as the Bloodstained Rose Day. She never knew how much of tragedy that was and it was also partly the Rhodolite Princes' fault too. All this time, she was living in her own dream world like a main character of novel, that she mentions time to time, who never changes herself no matter how much hell she is put through. I think Emma is character who likes to dream a lot and she lives in a fantasy world which is all rainbows and sunshine. Once she is chosen as Belle, everything she thought about 'royalty' and 'nobles' which she read from books proved to be false. She starts learning about the cruel place she lives in, that is the royal palace, how the princes are not just some good-looking rich men but also very smart and strong, how the royalty can get a away with many things because of their status and even how much of piece of shit the previous Rhodolite emperor was. She learns these things and clearly realizes that despite living in Rhodolite for her entire life, she never actually knew everything about her country.

After being send as a hostage in Obsidian, it is only then she gets to see how truly developing Obsidian is, maybe even more than Rhodolite. People are all treating her well. The country wasn't like what she was expecting. To me it looked like she was having much better time in Obsidian than in Rhodolite, because at least there are no childish nobles that bully her just because they can.

Now coming to the meat of the story, Gilbert's illness. I was kinda surprised but also rolled my eyes at first when I heard that Gilbert had some kind of illness and he's going to die soon. I have seen this trope in other movies and dramas and it's usually a last minute thing that the story writers pulls it out of their ass to bait the viewers into keep investing in their characters. I always like to believe that they use these 'I'm dying from cancer' trope when they have no idea left. So when I saw Gilbert coughing blood I was praying so hard that the writers don't disappoint me. But thankfully it was not like that. I really did feel sad when I was reading the ending chapters. I admit that I was crying like a baby because Gilbert is just too sweet that I want to shower him with kisses. Every time. ALL THE TIME!

I think all in all Gilbert's route is really well written that I enjoyed most of it but it's not perfect. The issue is not that concerning, but I really wish they didn't emphasize it too much. I don't like cringy dialogues! Dialogues that make me physically cringy to the point that I roll my eyes. Dialogues like:

"What can I do to make you turn into a human?"

"If you shut down your feelings, you will eventually become a beast like me."

And my least favorite "He's the Conqueror of the Beast, the worldwide disaster...."

Emma just really loves that line to the point that she uses it every time Gilbert does something normal.

Sees Gilbert reading a book.

Emma: *gasps* "The Conqueror of the Beast, the worldwide disaster is reading a book!?!?!?"*shocked 101*

Sees Gilbert eating cookies.

Emma: *gasps* "The Conqueror of the Beast, the worldwide disaster eats cookies and not children!?!?!?"*shocked 102*

Yeah, and it's not just Emma, but some of the princes' and ministers except for Chevalier and Luke, who treats him like a normal human being. Maybe they have a past together. Probably the other other kid at the start of chapter 1 is Chevalier. They must be childhood friends. Luke and Gilbert also seems to know each other well, Luke was the only person that proudly claimed that Emma is doing very well in Obsidian so it seems like Luke must have been to Obsidian before.

Another thing. See the general rule of story-telling is 'Show than tell'. I want the writers to 'show' me how much of a pure-hearted character Emma is rather than the princes keep 'telling' the audience that Emma is kind and pure-hearted. If Emma is kind-hearted, I want them to show me her kindness in any way possible. For example, when they went to the orphanage, they could've have shown Emma mingling with the kids and helping them with whatever they need or maybe something like Emma doing a research about the Bloodstained Rose Day (actually she does, she goes around asking the princes but no one told her that the princes' were also at fault) learning both sides of the story. Show me things that would make me like her personality even more. Show me instances where she's actually a kind-hearted soul. If you don't show me, all I'm left with is a girl who forces her ideals onto others without thinking how much it's hurting the other person. I don't think Emma is terrible but I wish they could add more scenes for her where she truly gets to show her potential as a kind-hearted Belle.

Gilbert's route is a very neat political drama with a little bit of romance infused into it. Like I mentioned beforehand, the whole story is a chess game and Gilbert is the only one winning.

Both Gilbert and Emma's ideals are different. Gilbert, now, thinks that violence is the only means to get justice and Emma thinks talking is the only means to get justice. I don't think both are wrong. In cases like the Bloodstained Rose Day, the family of the victims needed justice because the royalty was not punished for their actions. That's why the anti-monarchy faction was developed. If Gilbert's ideals are followed, there would be Bloodstained Rose Day 2.0. If we go by Emma's ideals, it would be hard to get them to talk things through because of the gravity of the situation. It would still lead to the Bloodstained Rose Day 2.0. It was a straight up slaughter. It's a very complicated situation.

Anyways, I think Gilbert's route is truly amazing. A perfect 9.5/10. (I'm taking 0.5 points because of the cringy lines. NEVER COME SEE ME AGAIN!!)

[catierambles]

Witch Hunt Ch. 4

Cait sat back in the chair with a sigh, one of the files that had been sent over laid out on the desk in front of her.

“How do they get anything done over there?” She asked.

“Haven’t a clue.” Walter said as he read over witness statements. “Our newest victim was also an antiques dealer, only privately this time. No store. Worked strictly from her office.”

“Any date book or cell phone in her personal effects?” Cait asked, “She may have had an appointment with the guy.”

“No date book,” Walter said, getting up from the desk and heading over to one of the boxes and pulling out an evidence bag. “Cell phone. It’s locked, but I can send it to the lab to see if they can crack it.”

“Walter, this woman was an antiques dealer, not a CIA Agent.” She said and sighed again, “Let me see it.” He opened the bag, cutting through the evidence tape, while she put on a pair of nitrile gloves, handing the cell phone over. “Was she married? Have kids?”

“Widowed with a daughter.”

“Four digit PIN.” She said, looking at the screen. “Anniversary date?”

“February third.” Walter said and she punched in 0-2-0-3 with the stylus from her own phone as the touchscreen wouldn’t register with the gloves.

“Nope.” Cait said, playing the long game as she couldn’t just go straight for the correct answer without raising eyebrows. “When did her husband die?”

“November twenty-second.”

1-1-2-2

“Nope. What’s her daughters’ birthday?”

“April twenty-third.”

0-4-2-3

“And we’re in.” She said as the lock screen gave way to the home screen. “Have an entry in her calendar for yesterday evening. Ethan Wyatt - Ring.”

“Any phone number?”

“No dice, looks like they communicated via email.” She said, going through the inbox. “Attached to one is an appraisal for a ring. Twelfth century, carved from obsidian and inlaid with rubies.” She gave a low whistle.

“What?”

“Worth more than I would make in a decade.” She said, “They find a ring at the scene?”

“No.” Walter said, shaking his head. “Damn old ring.”

“And unique.” Cait said, “They used metal back then with some precious gems. Even now you won’t find a lot of jewelry made strictly from obsidian. Inlaid, yes, but not entirely made of it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s volcanic glass, not stone. Primarily used for tools and weapons, not jewelry, and again, not entirely.” She said, “If this Wyatt guy is our man, could be we found a motive.”

“I’ll get someone on tracking down the name and put out a BOLO on a ring matching that description.”

“If it is him, he won’t try to sell it right away. Too hot. Something that unique...no, he’d sit on it for a while before trying to sell it. Or, he may not at all. Insurance company come back with pictures of the first victims’ inventory?”

“Not yet.” Walter said, “They gave me the run around when I first called before agreeing to send them over, might need to get a judge to sign a warrant. If he’s going after antiques dealers for something they have in stock, that’d be a connection.”

“First we need to figure out if Ethan Wyatt is our man. I doubt it’s his real name if it is him, he had to have known she would have marked down the appointment.” Cait said.

“You never made this connection with the others?” Walter asked but she shook her head.

“The other victims weren’t in that business. Stay at home mom, lawyer, a paramilitary gun-nut. No connection between any of them.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She said, going back to the emails, “Put out the BOLO anyway for the ring, just to cover bases, while someone looks into Wyatt. In their first communication he said he was a museum curator putting together an exhibit for that time period, didn’t say what museum though. A lot of haggling over the finders’ fee before they settled on a figure. Not full sticker price, but close.”

“It’ll take some time before anything comes back. Feel like lunch?”

“I could eat. Any place in mind?”

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Can’t get enough of it.”

“There’s a place downtown that has a good lunch special. Come on, my treat.” He said, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket.

“How’s their miso?”

“Soul warming.” He said and she gave a small huff of a laugh. Locking the phone again, she placed it back into the evidence bag and retaped it, using a sharpie to mark it with the date and her initials, before stripping off the gloves and tossing them in the wastebasket by his desk. “Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty.”

“I’m not that much older than you!” He objected with a smile and she laughed.

“Scoot your butt! Go!” She said and he left the office ahead of her, not seeing how she briefly checked out the fit of his dark jeans.

Walter smiled gently at her across the small table as her lips twisted almost wistfully after she took a sip from the bowl of miso, foregoing the spoon altogether. Their lunch orders were being worked on, the soup and salad brought to the table first.

“Good?” He asked and she hummed with a nod. “Good.”

“Good call.”

“I have my moments.” Walter said, “So, Cait.”

“Yes?”

“What were you assigned before...”

“The horrible murders?” She asked, setting down the bowl, and he nodded, “Pseudo-religious paramilitary organizations.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, the government’s gonna come for our freedoms,” She took on a slightly over the top southern televangelist accent, “We gotta arm ourselves with AKs in the name of Jaysus Christ hallelujah amen.” She gave a small cough to clear her throat, “They're a dime a dozen in the Deep South.” Cait finished, dropping the accent.

“Ah.” He said with a chuckle. “I'm guessing they didn't like it when the Feds showed up on their doorstep.”

“They didn't know I was a Fed, just another member of the flock.” She said, “Right up until I gave the signal and they were raided by the FBI and the ATF.”

“Don't remember hearing about anything about that.”

“They aren't all big showdowns with riot gear and helicopters. The ones the public do know about are rare, as the leaders of the groups almost always fold when the government actually does show up. A well organized raid takes all of an hour of prep, and about five minutes after breach to be done and dusted. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, last one to the bar buys the first round.”

“What did your family think of you getting into this line of work?”

“Oh they approved of it. Whole heartedly.” She said, “I grew up in what was basically a giant commune. Family, extended family, friends close enough to be considered family. When I said I wanted to go into law enforcement, they were overjoyed. It was also a bit of a family tradition. Mom was also in the FBI.”

“What about your father?”

“Never met the man. Don’t even know his name.” She said, “Mom told me when I was old enough that I’m the product of a one-night stand. Blowing off steam after the conclusion of an assignment. She never tried to track him down, and I never cared enough to look into it. Besides, with the amount of people I grew up around, I wasn’t short on father figures. I can name three men I considered my father, and genetics had nothing to do it.”