#you give me two options (often: do thing i hate or face punishment for not doing it) and just make peace with the punishment

[prommytheus]

i could never be blackmailed bc seriously i will just take any hit. id weigh the two options and then decide yknow worst case scenario i change my name and move to spain its okay

[beelspillowpet]

Also hate how Lilith is just pretty much a plot device. I don't know what the game is doing now but I hate that she's pretty much there to speedrun a relationship between MC and the brothers.

And that's when MC is already developing a genuine bond with some of them.

But if there are any other instances of her being a plot device, I'd love to hear it.

i do wanna make it clear that this contrived plot point that is lilith does not drive forward the relationship on ALL of the characters. just the most difficult two to really complete the list. i refuse to believe that mammon, satan, leviathan, asmo AND beel didnt care about MC before this turd-bomb of a plot point happened, but i absolutely do believe that is the case for lucifer and belphie for different reasons.

i believe it is a method to sort of "punish" belphie by the games weird rule of telling but not showing. it was the first sign of cowardice on the writing team back then for pulling their punches and taking judgement out of our hands; something they honestly do not often enough and too much at the same time with more mundane things, but with it being a multiple choice type game, options were never really ours to make. just the illusion of it.

by making us the very distant relative of lilith we are punishing belphie for his rash action to anger and and giving us a contrived reason to feel bad for him afterwards. which doesnt work when hes still got the blood on his hands, diavolo hot on his trail, and lucifer coming to his defense.

its a plot point for lucifer because until you earn the trust of all his brothers, he could pretend to care, hell he might even care a teensy bit, but no matter how he feels about you, if there is a shadow of a reason as to how you could betray him and his brothers and use them against their will, there is a shadow of a reason for lucifer to not hesitate to kill you.

picture a scenario where all of the boys save for belphie (and consequently lucifer himself) are forced via their pacts to attack belphie as revenge for him attacking you. with belphie out numbers and his own brothers losing control of themselves to potentially kill him, lucifer would be his last defense against those odds. lucifer is nothing if not cautious and powerful, so he could hopefully subdue his brothers in due time. it also helps that in comparison to lucifer, each of his brothers as you go further down the line have a unique type of fear of him that could in theory ensnare them from continuing their assault on belphie at your command. ie. mammon is really afraid of lucifers wrath and more than anything wasnt to avoid having his credit card taken and being strung up from the ceiling for hours. aside from everyone else in the house, mammon is more powerful than THEM compared to lucifer. then next comes levi, a sort of spineless coward-like person i feel (when it comes to a fight anyway, you basically NEVER see him stand up for himself) and wouldnt want to face lucifer and deal with the punishment of that. and then you go further and further down the list and they get weaker and weaker as we go. satan cant combat lucifers spells, he himself far too busy learning how to cast them rather than protect himself from them. asmo is much like levi in that he would rather not lift a finger, if not for fear of broken nail than broken bone. despite this, he could fold beel like laundry (which still doesnt make sense to me but whatever i guess?) and speaking of beel the guy is built like a truck. hes also the only other one lucifer has physically struck with intention to subdue that was tied to a serious event. and i believe it was more than once at that.

my point being they were very specific and careful about who came in the pecking order, and it was for precaution that lucifer be the one able to straighten them all out in the end.

if there is an MC out there hellbent on destroying belphie, that is a person lucifer will never trust. and so its rather coincidental that in the heat of the moment we choose to forgive belphie, or at the very least put it off, until "months later" since the game jumps ahead in time a LOT since the killing in c.16 and the end of the years program in c. 20.

lilith being our distant relative was for belphie to feel shame, then quickly feel attachment, only for lucifer to see that if we all get along (or perhaps fall in love with belphie in that short period of time for the belphifuckers out there) hes allowed to feel something finally too. or at least let it show more.

so it was a speedrun not for all of the brothers. lucifer, while he wouldnt hesitate in killing you in an instant before belphie got close with you, i wont say didnt feel anything beforehand. he just puts his brothers before anything and everything; something he makes clear time and time again. it was a speedrun ONLY for belphie. lucifer and MC have a sort of slowburn going on, but to say that their relationship is speedran from c.16 onwards is disregarding the little moments beforehand that were special to his character.

as for if and when shes used as a plot point again later, that requires i redownload OG and look around for it there and honestly playing in a pit of spikes sounds more fun than that. playing nightbringer is already such a painful chore....

edit: im also trapped in the early episodes of season 2 bc i flopped so hard at that boring ass gameplay in the first one lol

[stromuprisahat]

taragreenfield:

"Creepy Victorian ideal where women are expected to embody virtue and morality"? I'm sure Alina being repeatedly shamed for being attracted to the "wrong" man, calling herself "vain" when she doesn't hate what she looks like for once and getting punished for being "greedy" because she wanted to embrace her powers and forced to settle for sheer mediocrity do not play into the same creepy ideal. Nope. Not even a little.

☝️☝️☝️

So, it's one of the themes addressed rather badly.

Both of those dialogues feel (as often) as if Alina and the Darkling talked about something else.

“We would be equals until the day I dared to disagree with you, until the moment I questioned your judgment or didn’t do as I was bid. Then you would deal with me the way you dealt with Genya and your mother, the way you tried to deal with Mal.” He leaned against the window, and the gilded frame came into sharp focus. “Do you think it would be any different with your tracker beside you? With that Lantsov pup?” “Yes,” I said simply. “Because you would be the strong one?” “Because they’re better men than you.” “You might make me a better man.” “And you might make me a monster.”

Ruin and Rising- Chapter 3

Alina (once again) accuses Aleksander of wanting to annihilate any kind of opposition, naming the people she knows he "wronged". Completely disregarding Genya was a traitor, who'd possibly face harsher punishment from any other general, Baghra's questionable motivations and her whole relationship with him, and the teeny-tiny detail Malyen should've been executed ten times over, and got away only thanks to Nikolai's intercession.

She believes he'd torture and mutilate her for disobedience just like she did upon her first arrival to Little Palace. On the other hand her other romantic options are nothing but virtuous. They'd never... I don't know... shame her for not returning their passionate embrace, make her feel bad for them by repeated bouts of aggression and self pity, or such...

The irony...

Aleksander doesn't really buy the clean cut good/bad nonsense- he's too old for it-, and their conversation about fairness paints a picture of a person angry about skewed perception of people, yet his actions show it won't stop him from aiming at whatever goals he's trying to achieve. Goals to reach equality, perhaps even equity in general treatment by society. Alina might be determined to view him as evil, but that's as close to good to me as any person might get.

Also his views on human nature don't support the notion he'd expect Alina to miraculously "heal" him- quite contrary. In the Darkling's eyes people rarely change, unless you force them. His admission might mean Alina is strong enough to do so or- given how highly he thinks of himself- it might be him saying he'd ALLOW HER. He'd listen to her, weigh her objections and possibly make concessions, should her arguments stand on firm ground. It's voicing his potential malleability, and also vulnerability to her. As he said- he perceives her as his equal, therefore he's willing to allow her the same power over his actions as he, himself wields.

He also lacks the illusion Alina might act as some sort of moral authority- he's the one calling her on her selfishness among other things-, so Leigh suggesting that might be the case corresponds with her usual MO, when she describes something entirely different, than what she expects the reader to perceive.

“You were meant to be my balance, Alina. You are the only person in the world who might rule with me, who might keep my power in check.” “And who will balance me?” The words emerged before I thought better of them, giving raw voice to a thought that haunted me even more than the possibility that the firebird didn’t exist. “What if I’m no better than you? What if instead of stopping you, I’m just another avalanche?”

Ruin and Rising- Chapter 9

Again- he talks about balance of two metaphysical powers, Alina's math doesn't add up. And why does she view herself as the noble one?! She acts as if she worried about her own goodness, yet the Darkling's place among the naughty is never questioned.

This is even more tragic, if we delve into the theories on the origins of (Sun and) Shadow Summoners. The Darkling is the only known living Grisha with some insight into the workings of their powers and merzost- his faith him and Alina were "meant to be" might be only his loneliness, but it could also be supported by Grisha theory. There can't be light without shadows and vice versa.

Alina's weather talk sounds cool out of the context. In it, she looks even dumber than usual. It's as if a quantum physicist waxed poetic about the nature of particles and their resemblance to him and his beloved, while his entitled date somehow managed to turn it into dangers of skiing.

So...

I'm usually trying to avoid interviews and such, but I have this vague memory of LB stating something about disliking "the woman saves/fixes the man via her love" trope. Am I delusional? There's this paragraph in SoC that would make it almost as ironic as her claim she'd never make Alina stay in abusive relationship. 🙃

Hello!

I'm so happy to have her past interviews 'cause so much bullshit can be contradicted. I'm that friend with the screenshots.

So here it is:

[yandere-sins]

[Yandere] How the Liyue men mark you as ‘theirs’ (+ Childe & Kazuha)

The last post blew up so I thought I’d do a continuation! Enjoy ^^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

Xiao

Xiao becomes your shadow.

If he didn’t hate the idea of being in public so much, he’d be more open about his presence, but this much should be enough, right? You gain a reputation that you seem more exhausted lately, giving off very strange energies, but you can’t really wrap your head around it either. More often, you find yourself in bad luck, which only adds to your exhaustion, and when you are out all day long, you attract more than your fair share of misfortunes. Sometimes you almost get hit by a falling flowerpot; other times, the item you need desperately is all sold out everywhere. Nonetheless, you never get hurt, and once you go to sleep, your problems get solved overnight, much to your surprise. It’s a very strange time for you, but it finds its peak when some treasure hoarders seem to have it bad for you, a figure you have never seen before appearing out of thin air and ‘taking care’ of this issue as well. Much, much more bloody than you can stomach, unfortunately. Still, who are you to make a sound as the figure approaches you, hesitates before picking you up, and brings you back to your home? Xiao knows he shouldn’t be there with you; shouldn’t meddle into your affairs and taint you with his karma. But what can a man in love do? He wishes he could do more to let everything and anyone know not to lay one finger on his darling, but being your shadow is quite enough for the longest time.

Zhongli

Zhongli (unsurprisingly) makes a special contract with you.

It’s what he is best at, and he just so happens to help you out with it too. Zhongli has yet to grasp all of the human’s desires, but whatever you might fancy, there certainly is one way or another to grace you with it. Perhaps you are in an emergency situation, or maybe you just really want to be on top of your skill. But if you make your want to Zhongli’s mission, you are sure to go out of it successful. He really likes the time he spent by your side, studied your thoughts and actions. And when the contract finally ends, you will go out of it with positive feelings as well. That’s when suddenly Zhongli puts new ideas into your head, just so he can be with you a little bit longer. There is still so much you can archive with his help, and you know he will keep to his duty of fulfilling what you ask. But it has its price. And when the second contract doesn’t rob you of your savings, perhaps the third one will. Zhongli has so much patience and knowledge, yet he never gets annoyed with you - not when you are such a precious darling. You believe him when he tells you, “You need me.” Because why would you not? Zhongli never fails you. “One more,” he offers after you can’t pay the last contract. One more contract to pay off all the contracts, a truely merciful offer. You trust him. He’s been with you from the very beginning, he knows everything about your plans and was always determined to get you through everything. He never fails you. “One more,” you confirm, signing the last contract with him. The punishment is too cruel, this time, your endeavors have to pay off! Your money, home, everyone around you is already gone, and if it doesn’t work out, you won’t have anything to buy yourself out of this one. But you fail yet again. You couldn’t have fulfilled the requirements because Zhongli made sure through meticulously taking everything from you and finding grey zones to sabotage your efforts that there was no way you could fulfill this contract. He’s the one who knew best after all, right? So now, you have to face what you signed, see what the consequences are. And he? He gets to enjoy you indefinitely. Zhongli lets you read your contract as much as you want while you sit on his lap, have his hands explore you, and smiles as you despair over signing away your very being to him.

Tartaglia

Childe uses his influence on other people.

His reputation is already as bad as it can be, seeing he is not only a Fatui Harbinger but also an odd fellow out on the streets. That other people don’t really like him has never bothered him much, but it sure helps a fair bit when it comes to you, his little darling. Whatever he has to do to keep you by his side, he doesn’t back off until he gets what he thinks is in your best interest, may it be: paying horrendous sums of Mora to bring you on a nice date, intimidating businesses into doing what you want or they will get other problems than just a lost sale, or giving other suitors that get too close to you for his taste a good beating. Sure, people warn you about him, but at the same time, it’s in his hands if your life gets a bit easier or much, much harder. He’s already holding back so much to not lash out at you when you feel you can’t tolerant his presence anymore - after everything he’s done, nonetheless! - but you don’t know what kind of powers you are dealing with. No one refuses Childe in a world that only he owns, but if you want to fret a bit first, so be it. What if everyone suddenly turns on you? When no business will take your services or sell you their wares? What if everyone whispers behind your back and the Millilith receive clues about illegal things you might be doing in the safety of your home? Do you really think anyone would willingly want to be seen with you anymore? But no worries, the moment you come back to him, Childe will fix all of this for you. Even if the two options to choose from are like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea, it will still show everyone where you belong to, and even better: Show you who you belong to.

Kazuha

Kazuha monopolizes you. 

Both literally and figuratively, you will be in his grip. It takes a while until one of your friends asks if there is any other topic than your new boyfriend that you could talk about. Don’t you do anything besides being by his side and listening to him these days? You didn’t even notice that the only thing on your mind lately is Kazuha, so much so, it does seem to be at a worrying degree. At first, you don’t really see the problem in it. You just found someone you like, and there are probably rose-colored glasses over your perception of him. But when he tells you that you are all he has, and he is so glad that you are in his life and giving it back some worth, it makes you feel special. In front of you, he’d let loose, let go of his composure and speak openly with you. No one else can do that for him but you. You are the only one he can do that with, and when he smiles softly at you, telling you he loves you, it’s almost too good to be true. It wasn’t your intention to fight with your friend that day, but just because they don’t know him like you do, doesn’t mean they can just be mean and say they are getting red flags from how he makes you only be with him instead of how you lived in the past! At least Kazuha understands when you come back upset and miffed, holds you in his arms, and tells you that he’ll always be there for you, just like you are for him. It’s such a bittersweet thing to lose a friend, but even if you lose all of them, Kazuha will still be the one that always greets you back with a warm embrace and confessions of love. He really is the only one you can always rely on, even if that means he is the only one you have left around you. That just means he will get even more of your attention, instead of you dividing it on so many others and your hobbies. Instead, it’s all Kazuha, just like he wants.

[goatgoatgoat7778]

yay, new character intro! I have plans for him :3c

Starting to feel like I lean more heavily into the plot than the kink though... shouldn't it be the other way around lol?

This story contains: hunger kink, uuuuhhhhhhhhhhh that's pretty much it

Renard didn’t like being in the castle when Vruxeor was away. He’d been gone for months, forging long-overdue peace treaties with other kingdoms. Renard had gone back home for the time being, still loyal to his king and all the knights he’d spent years fighting alongside. He was loyal to Vruxeor too or course, but as far as official allegiances go, it wasn’t withVruxeor. He spent a lot of time deliberating whether to officially switch sides and move in with him full-time, but he was hesitant. One of the main things holding him back was how Vruxeor’s advisors regarded him. Though no one ever said anything to his face, he heard murmurings of discontent in passing. He felt an official position at his side would only cause further unrest and stress for everyone in the kingdom. Especially Vruxeor. That was the last thing he wanted. 

He wasn’t entirely unwelcome in Vruxeor’s kingdom. The servants and peasants liked him dearly, most likely due to the king becoming more lax in laws and punishments; it was unspoken, but they all knew it was Renard that caused the king to change and they were grateful for it. Yvie and Saige were also kind to him; in fact, they were the only people in royally appointed positions who took kindly to him. Because of this he often found himself hanging around with them in the medical ward when he visited, which is where he found himself now. 

Vruxeor would be returning that night and he didn’t want to miss him by even a fraction of a second, but he needed something to pass the time as he waited. Luckily for him, Yvie enjoyed the extra help, especially since Saige had gone with Vruxeor. He wasn’t much help and his duties mostly consisted of handing her stuff, but it was something to do. And then Yvie got called away.

“I don’t mind staying and looking after things,” Renard said, not really wanting to spend the rest of the day wandering around a castle full of people who may or may not hate him.

Yvie shrugged. “Okay, fine. You aren’t qualified in the slightest, but at least you’re capable of putting on a bandage. I don’t think things should get any more intense than that. I shouldn’t be gone long.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled!” he beamed with two thumbs up. Yvie shook her head and left. Only ten minutes after she left, Renard got his first and only visitor.

He recognized the man immediately, though he’d never met him formally. He was Vruxeor’s right hand, a knight named Kreon; a man legendary for his brutality on the battlefield and his cold solitary nature in his daily life. He was tall, imposing, and, judging by the fact that he clenched his fist tight when he saw Renard, none too happy to see him. Refusing to let himself feel intimidated, Renard approached him. “Hello, Sir Kreon. I don’t believe we’ve met, but I’m sure you know of me by now. Did you need something? Yvie is out on errands, but I’m sure I can offer whatever assistance-”

Kreon shoved past him without a word. “Hey!” Renard cried, following behind him. He made his way to the door in the back. Renard had seen Yvie go back there a few times, but she always dodged his questions when he asked her what was in it. It must have been quite the secret- Yvie always liked to indulge what strange (and often questionable) concoctions she was brewing. He couldn’t imagine what business Kreon could have in that room, but the sizable lock on the door should deter him. At least that’s what he thought until he pulled out a key. “I don’t know where you got that key from, but I don’t think Yvie would appreciate you going in there without her being here…”

Still giving him the cold shoulder, Kreon unlocked the door and went inside. Renard weighed his options; Yvie would be mad at him for going in there, but she’d probably appreciate it if he made sure Kreon didn’t take anything he wasn’t supposed to. Not to mention he was quite curious about what might lay within. He followed Kreon inside, deciding he’d be chewed out either way. 

The door clicked shut behind him and he immediately bumped into Kreon. It was much more cramped in here than he anticipated. “Watch it,” he growled. Renard tried to shuffle around him, but they were still touching. Uncomfortable as it was, at least Renard could see what was in there. Multiple shelves with rows and rows of bottles, large ones, small ones, ones with long curvy necks, each containing a colorful fluid, dulled by the lack of light in the room.There were dozens of bottles, each labeled with a name he couldn’t pronounce if he tried. Renard felt overwhelmed. He couldn’t recognize a single one. 

Kreon, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he was looking for. He scoured each row like a hawk. In the blink of an eye, his hand shot up and grabbed a vial that he slipped into his sleeve. That’s what Renard thought he saw, anyway. It happened so fast he thought maybe he’d been mistaken. Kreon glared at him. “Something wrong?” he asked with a tone that suggested ‘if you say “yes” there’ll be hell to pay.’ Renard simply shook his head. “Good. I’m done here.”

They turned to leave but found the door had no handle. Kreon tried pushing, but the door didn’t budge. He tried to reach his fingers through the crack underneath the door, but it was too small. Kreon rammed his shoulder against the door but still nothing. He clawed at the door frantically, and he began to slam his head against the door with frustration, realizing that they were trapped. “NO! NO! DAMMIT!”

    “Calm down! Yvie will be back soon and she’ll let us out!”

Kreon shoved him into a wall and butt his head against Renard’s. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he hissed, “It's over!”

“What are you talking about…?” Renard asked cautiously. He wasn’t necessarily scared of Kreon, but trying to scuffle in such a tight room with so many fragile glass bottles could only end badly.

Kreon sighed, stepped back and placed the vial he’d taken back on the shelf where he found it. He sat with his back against the wall and placed his head in his hands in defeat. “Doesn’t matter.”

“What was in the vial?” he pressed.

Kreon looked at him dead in the eye. “If you’re not smart enough to get it, you don’t deserve to know.” Kreon crossed his arms and turned his head, signaling the conversation was over.

Renard sat down, back against the wall opposite of Kreon. Although he tried to keep as much space between them as possible, their feet and ankles still touched. It was awkward, but it could definitely be worse. Still, he hoped Yvie would come back soon.The only way Renard could tell time was passing was by the way the light through the window crept across the wall. If he had to guess, it was around dinner time.

*groooooooowl*

Kreon pulled his legs a bit closer and placed his hand against his stomach. Renard was amused; it was kind of fun to see a legendary warrior get embarrassed by his stomach just like everyone else. The polite thing perhaps would have been to remain quiet, but Renard couldn’t help himself. “Getting hungry?”

“Maybe a bit,” he admitted, much to Renard’s surprise. His stomach painfully grumbled again which made him curl up, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. 

“You good?” Renard asked.

“Yeah, I just…” his stomach let out a string of growls before he continued, “I just don’t deal with hunger well.” He leaned his head back against the wall, looking exhausted. He’d never let himself miss a meal even during battle, so the feeling of his stomach shaking and caving in was an unwelcome one. “I feel weak,” he muttered.

Renard felt kinda bad for him, even if he thought the other was being a tad overdramatic. “Scootch over,” he said as he shuffled next to Kreon. Their shoulders were pressed tightly together. 

“What are you-?!” Kreon began before feeling Renards hand gently pressing against his stomach. He hadn’t been touched by another person in a long time. It was startling, but at the same time it felt good. He couldn’t have pushed Renard away if he wanted to.

“Feels nice doesn’t it?”

“Mmhmm” Kreon replied, not particularly caring about his pride. Although he was enjoying the attention, the way Renard’s hand pressed into his stomach only accentuated how empty it was. Especially when he rubbed the crook of his ribcage. His stomach groaned even louder.

“You’ve only missed one meal and your stomach is already so fussy,” Renard mused. He rubbed Kreon’s stomach in large circles. “Reminds me of when I was in a similar predicament with Vruxeor.”

“Don’t say his name around me! That bast-“ his stomach roared, interrupting him again. “Ah screw it, I can’t monologue under these conditions.”

“Well it sounds like your belly’s trying to monologue for you,” he joked. Kreon shot him a glare, but Renard continued, “I think it’s as mad at you as you are at Vruxeor! …Wait, why are you mad at Vruxeor? I thought you and he were close? That’s what everyone says, anyway. Not that I believe every rumor I hear, of course, but-”

Kreon pulled away from him and turned his back. “None of your business,” he grunted. A pang of hunger twisting through his stomach made him regret pulling away from Renard’s touch, but he decided to remain stubborn. Renard stayed quiet in an attempt to move away from the awkward subject. He himself was quiet at least; his stomach had loudly begun to make its complaints known. He was much more tolerant of hunger than Kreon was, though. 

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night, aside from indirectly communicating to each other through their loudly growling stomachs that they were hungry. Renard didn’t know how long they had been in there as his only method of keeping time -the light of the window- had been taken from him. Seconds, minutes, hours; time had elongated, and it began to feel like the sun would never come up. But soon enough the door was pulled open, and they were met with a blinding light and a very angry plague doctor.

Renard helped Kreon up and went to the main room. Kreon was slow to follow and Renard couldn’t tell if it was because he was reluctant to face Yvie or if he was just weak from hunger. Yvie stood in front of them, arms crossed and behind her was an equally displeased Vruxeor. He didn’t understand what the big deal was with that closet, but he began to have a sinking feeling about it.

“What were you two doing in there?” Yvie probed.

Renard debated telling the truth of what happened. Kreon looked at him pleading. “I… well… we found this key and Kreon thought it was for the closet and I told him to try it. I was just curious, honest! We went in and the door closed behind us so we got stuck. We didn’t mess with anything, I promise!”

“Is this true, Kreon?”

“…Just about, yes.” Kreon tossed the key to her. “I have no need for this.”

She glared at him. “I had this key just this morning. Where did you happen upon it?”

“…”

“I think you and I need to have a talk,” Vruxeor said as he grabbed Kreon by the arm. “Sorry, Renard, I know you’ve been waiting for me. I’ll make it fast, I promise.” He kissed him on the side of his helmet and walked out. Kreon followed behind, his proud posture betraying how nervous he was. Yvie seemed to ease up as they left, and Renard was happy she wasn’t mad at him.

“What was in that closet that’s so important?”

Yvie laughed but when she saw Renard tilt his head in confusion, she realized he wasn’t joking. “You really don��t know? It’s poison. Pretty much every poison we know of. It’s no small collection. That’s why I made sure anyone sneaking in gets trapped inside.”

“P-poison?! But why would he…” Renard was confused and a little betrayed. The man he’d spent the past few hours with didn’t seem that bad, despite what he knew about him; but a small part of him suspected that Kreon was planning to use that poison on him. 

“I’m not sure what he would have wanted with poison, but I’m sure Vruxeor will take care of it. Probably. He’s become a little…” she waved her hand as though she were trying to conjure the words to describe what she was thinking, but conceded with a, “well, you know.”

Renard wasn’t sure he really knew what she meant, but his stomach distracted him with a few grumbles. He gave it a few pats. “What took you so long, anyway? I’m starving.”

“You don’t even want to know the night me and Vruxeor had,” she sighed as she pinched her nose. “That’s a story for another time, it’s getting late. Time for bed.”

*GROOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRWLLLLLLLL*

“…or a snack.”

[malereader-inserts]

Even Though it Hurts

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader Summary: You have a will power than no other. Word Count: 2,032 Request: “ Hi, I love your writing so much. Can you do dad!Remus Lupin x son!reader, where the reader is in secret relationship with Seamus and Remus find out? Just some super angsty story, cuz I live for angst (I knew Remus will be supporting parent). Thank you✨” A/n: Okay, I tried my best to make it angsty. WARNING: homophobia, homophobic slur, anxiety 

It’s not like you wanted your dad to know. 

You didn’t really know what was going through your mind, really, because you know your old man. Your dad was a loving father, he supported you in anything you had interested in. If you were into potions, he would try and get to a little chemistry set - muggle kind that wouldn’t end up exploding the house. If you were into muggle history, he would take you to the museums wherever you lived at that moment. 

If you were interested in quidditch, he would give you books about the history of quidditch and the rule book. He even tried to get to a broom with his own money, but he had to dip into your mother’s money (which was reserved for you and anything you wanted, it was open to Remus as well because before she died she really loved Remus.) 

But, you weren’t sure if he would support you in a new revelation of yourself.

That included kissing pretty boys in the corners late at night. 

Granted, when you spent a summer with Remus and Sirius, they talked about how they had a relationship before Remus got with your mother and Sirius whored about.

Still, it was something you were terribly scared of. Your best friends have tried convincing you and settle your racing mind that you were overthinking it and that Remus would love you no matter what you were or have done.

“You take your time, babe, but I don’t know why you’re stressin’. Your dad is sound and he’ll take the news fine!” Your boyfriend says as you sighed, closing your book. 

“Everyone is saying that Seamus, but that doesn’t eliminate the slight possibility that he wouldn’t approve.”

“I think it does, (Y/n),” Seamus replied, giving you a pointed look, “Why are you so afraid?”

You stare at your boyfriend, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Wha-?”

“Night.”

Seamus watches you tuck yourself in bed, moving the pillows around you so that your boyfriend could slip into bed with you. You flick your wand to turn off the lights as Seamus watches you dumbfounded.

You rubbed your hand as you make it to your next class, which was transfiguration, you smiled at your boyfriend - managing to give him a kiss on the cheek as he flushed red. You moved to stand with Ron and Harry as Dean teases Seamus.

“A minute to the hour, what took you so long?” Ron asked you as you shrugged your shoulder.

“Caught up in the library, sorry,” You replied as you sat down.

Harry was next to Ron as you sat down next to Seamus, who was jabbing you in the side trying to get your attention. McGonagall starts the lesson and Hermione randomly appearing out of nowhere. No one batted an eye throughout that lesson, it was a double before the end of the day.

So, when the lesson finishes, McGonagall calls you to stay behind. You tell Harry, Ron and Hermione not to fuss over you as you held Seamus’ hand a bit longer. Seamus was the last to leave, giving you a supportive look because as much as McGonagall was lovely - she sure can be intimidating.

“Mr Lupin,” she says, calling you over to her desk as you meekly pulled your shoulder bag further onto your shoulder as you walk towards her, “Have a biscuit.”

“I’m okay, Professor,” you replied.

She narrows her eyes, “What was the punishment she gave you.”

Of course, your head of the house would clock on. She had seen how happy you were at the end of the fourth year, how you were so comfortable with showing off that Seamus was yours. She could tell there was a behaviour change in you because as the fifth year started - she knew you weren’t stressed about the subjects.

You were a smart kid, but this was something concerning. You avoided being seen with Seamus unless it was in the privacy of the common room and the bedroom.

“Let me see your hand,” She held her hand out and you knew you had to comply because she wouldn’t let you out of the room.

You gave her your non-dominate hand as she examines the injury. She didn’t like how it was still red, it told her that it was a fresh open wound as bruises started to surround the vile words.

“(Y/n)...”

She looks up at you and you already had started to sob, it was almost her motherly instinct that kicked in as she abruptly stood up and beckoned you to sit down as she soothes your back. 

“It wasn’t bad at first, you know?” You started to explain, “At first they were about dad and how he was a werewolf.”

McGonagall could see the scarring of the old sentence you had to write, “WEREWOLVES ARE VILE MONSTERS.”

She watches you cry harder as you started to hiccup, with a flick of her wand, a glass of water was starting to make way towards you.

“Catch your breathing, darling,” She says to you, rubbing your back, “I guess the wench found out about you and-?”

You chuckled, surprising her because honestly you hadn’t expected so much venom from a well-kept woman like Professor McGonagall and you weren’t expecting her to comfortably call Umbridge names. 

“Yes, she called me in first, gave me the option to either take the punishment or let Seamus. I couldn’t let him do that, and then she told me not to say a word to dad because if she found out, she- she...”

McGonagall could and would throw her shit if she could. No-one should be able to harm the students at all cost, Hogwarts was a place of safety and inducing fear in the students was the last thing she wanted. 

You hiccupped, “She would find where dad would be and make sure he would pay for his actions - I don’t know what she would charge my dad with, but, I can’t lose my dad like I have with my mother. He’s all I have left. I can’t hurt my dad, I can’t hurt my boyfriend, even if it kills me.”

She stares at you in silence, because a young teenager shouldn’t have to think like that.

“Alright, I’ll write you off for the rest of the week, and let me bandage your hand.”

Perhaps you were terrified to tell your dad about the punishment you have to endure, perhaps you were terrified how your dad would react that you rather endure pain and homophobia than tell him. You know that your dad would lose his cool.

McGonagall tends to your wound, she doesn’t want to see the nasty words on your hand and she knows full well you didn’t want to either. 

You leave her classroom to go back to bed, luckily, it was nearing Christmas so Christmas break was soon to come. 

You spent many days talking to McGonagall, she couldn’t stop you from going to detention, so no matter how many bandages you go through, you could feel the pain of two sentences branded on you.

“WEREWOLVES ARE VILES MONSTERS.”

“I AM A DISGUSTING FAGGOT.”

You managed to go home early due to the attack on the Wesley family, as you were considered part of their family as well as Hermione and Harry, they allowed you to go home - home as in the base of the Order. 

You weren’t sure how to confront your dad as you tried spending your time sending letters to Seamus. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slammed your hand down on the desk as your head the voice before meekly turning around to see your dad, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“You scared me,” You sighed out, putting your feather down into the ink, “Announce your presence at least dad!”

Your dad chuckled, “I apologise, next time I will knock before speaking.”

You smiled as you turn yourself to look at him as he slowly enters the room, he wonders why you were cooped up in the room. Hermione was often seen downstairs reading a book whilst Ron and Harry was busy with themselves. But, you, you rather stay in your room.

“Are you ill?”

“Partly,” You responded far too quickly, you were nervous for some reason - the same nerves that ran down your back when you were in Umbridge’s office. 

When you were in “detention” she would rather have you answer quickly, you feared too much that you would reprimand. You pulled your sleeves down just to cover your hands.

“Running a bit of a fever, I’ll just sleep it off, dad.”

“(Y/n),” Remus narrowed his eyes at you, his chilled son that was much more of an anxious mess, “What’s going on? I’ve noticed that you’re sporting the same bandage as the twins and Harry.”

“Well-”

“And they told me it was because of Umbridge,” Remus continues, not meaning to interrupt you, “Son, what did she make you write?”

Remus hated the woman after she was the one to put up the suggestion on the law of werewolves, he would hate himself, but the tears confirmed his fears.

“I’m sorry!” You cried, looking down to cover your face with your hands.

“Shh, my boy,” Remus strides to give you a hug, he kneels in front of you as he lightly grabbed your hand, “May I?”

You sniffled and slightly nodded, you allowed your dad to wrap the greyish bandage. He didn’t know what he was expected, but the words that were scarred into you was worst than he thought. He wanted to throw up, he could understand the werewolf one - you are paying for his condition.

“Can you explain to me the other-?”

“Please don’t hate me!” That was your immediate response.

It wasn’t the confident response that Remus has in mind, he didn’t care if you were gay - you were still his son and he wouldn’t see you any differently. After all, he was a werewolf and you didn’t care at all - and he was considered a threat. 

He hoped that if you ever had the need to come out to him, he was expecting you to send him a letter that you were bringing home your boyfriend to meet him because you were so confident that your dad would welcome him with open arms. But, not this.

“(Y/n), I would never hate you for being gay,” Remus spoke firmly, “I love you with all my heart and you liking boys wouldn’t change the fact.”

“But-”

“My darling boy,” He says softly, “Were you afraid of my reaction because of the fear that Umbridge had instilled in you?”

You didn’t respond but that was enough for him to understand the situation as he sighs, rubbing his thumb on your forehead before bringing it close to his lips, placing a family peck upon your temple.

“I’m not mad nor will ever be mad, okay?” You nodded, it doesn’t settle the anxiety in you and Remus knows that, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Remus changes the topic, get you to relax first before forwarding the situation with you and the fear you had. You looked at him confused at the sudden change of topic before softly smiling to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend.

“It’s Seamus.”

“Seamus?” Remus says, narrowing his eyes, “The pyromantic maniac?”

You nod.

“Well, I guess it’s not Draco,” Remus says as you smiled at your dad, who gives you the same loving smile, “Though, when we’re able to have visitors - we’re not allowing Seamus to use magic. I cannot risk having someone blowing up the house!”

“I mean, that is fair,” You agreed with him, Remus chuckles, “You promise you’re not mad?”

“There’s nothing to be mad about, son, now are you more comfortable to talk about your hand?”

You looked at him, it was now or later and you didn’t want to experience the dread of that conversation. You take a deep inhale and exhale before giving Remus a nod. Your dad perched himself on your bed, preparing to hear your story. 

“I want to hear how you and Seamus got together first, actually.” 

“Really dad?”

[shorkbrian]

Father Figure - Disappointed

Prelude - I get so many asks about the same thing and so I put them at the bottom lol otherwise this would be so long. Also I combined them, RIP sorry pals I suck. Anyways, remember guys, bad people exist. If someone is hurting you or you suspect someone you know is being hurt, please talk to someone, please don’t let yourself settle into “This is normal, this is fine”. It’s not normal, and it’s not fine. The national sexual assault hotline in America is 1-800-656-4673 and it’s from a organization called RAINN.

https://www.rainn.org

They have a chat service too, if you prefer texting over calling.

Please stay safe y’all

Pairing - Stepdad! Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - Pseudo incest, manipulation, power dynamics, NSFW, noncon, dubcon, mentions of unsafe sex, slight degradation. Belittling, controlling Aizawa.

Music -  https://open.spotify.com/track/5nHTLEJ10zaqdnKqLriah4?si=Bs0su-fBRxWoE3jefCdPIA

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Why? Why, huh? Do I not provide you with very little thing you need, anything you could ever want?”

You dip your head in shame, sock-clad feet rubbing against each other nervously. “I just wanted to-“

“To disappoint me, yes, you’ve done that very well.” Aizawa’s tone is harsh, incensed. “I catch you trying to sneak out again, and all you can do is offer excuses.”

Biting your lip, you spread your hands quickly, trying to appease him. “I was just going to get you a present! For-for your birthday!”

A weak excuse, one that neither of you bought.  Aizawa stood up from the couch, shaking his head.

“My birthday isn’t for another couple of weeks and you know it. Plus, we both know that you’ll be the only present I unwrap on my birthday.”

The sordid promise made your heart drop, tensing up as your stepdad came closer and closer, until he stood in front of you. Tall, imposing, irritated.

“I’m sorry….” You manage, staring down at your feet. It’s too intimidating to try and meet his gaze, those light grey eyes that fill you with fear and guilt.

“I’m sure you are. How are you going to make it up to me?” And there it was, the always-dreaded initiation. You often wondered how Aizawa would be like with a woman his age, someone willing and eager to please him. Would he force them like this?

A minute stretched by while your mind worked, trying desperately to think of some other way to soothe his ire. Every time you undressed for him, every time he touched your body, every time you were forced to touch him made you feel dirty, tainted, disgusting.

Damaged goods.

“I can choose-“

“No!” You cried, head snapping up, fingers flying to his shirt to fist in the soft fabric before you remembered yourself. “I mean, no Dad, I’ll make it up to you.”

The words felt vile in your mouth, like poison. But of your two options, having the slightest bit of control over the situation was preferable. Whenever your stepdad chose some way for you to show that you were sorry, it hurt. He’d introduced you to anal, forcing you to take his thick fingers deep, stretching you out with various plugs and toys, drizzling more and more lube into your hole until you were loose enough to take him.

This way, you could avoid his painful favorite.

Taking a deep breath, you steered him back to the couch, and the man sat, looking up at you expectantly.

You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs with your hands, the limbs giving way easily. The waistband of his sweats was pulled down easily, your fingers hooking into his briefs to pull them down as well.

He was already hard.

“C’mon, don’t make me wait.” Your stepdad urged, one hand coming to lace through your hair, loosely gripping the aback of your head. You suppose it could be taken as a reassuring gesture, but you knew what it really was; a threat.

You kept your face neutral as you kissed the mushroom tip, a bead of precum wetting your lips. You’d earned quickly that making any sort of face at the sight, smell, or feel of Aizawa’s dick would be met with swift punishment. He’d shove his cock down your throat and keep it there until your legs went numb, until tears pricked at your eyes.

And you’d still have to suck him off afterwards.

So you kept your face relaxed, slowly licking along the length, fondling his balls, kissing the base of his cock noisily.

A long lick from the base to the tip before you took him in your mouth, tucking your teeth behind your lips. Your tongue took over now, swirling around the head, laving broad strips against the very tip, swiping the precum away on each lick.

Raising your eyes to gauge his reaction was a mistake, Aizawa staring down at you with a hooded gaze, relaxing back into the couch.

“Make it up to me.”

You sucked, hard, swallowing around his dick as you eased it towards the back of your throat. You had to build up to deepthroating, still had trouble with it and your gag reflex, but your stepdad was a diligent teacher.

He was holding himself back, thighs flexing aside your head as he stopped himself from thrusting up into your mouth, from hunching over and using you like a toy, making you gag and sob and drool around his length. Aizawa wanted you to do all the work, wanted you to show him how sorry you really were by making him cum.

Moving your head faster, you bobbed on his length, cringing internally as drool slipped down your chin, towards your chest. You hated when it got messy.

Aizawa placed his other hand against your cheek, stroking the side of your face, but you could tell that he was really feeling for the outline of his cock in your mouth, thick, stocky fingers pressing insistently.

You made a little noise of protest, quickly trying to morph it into a moan, pulling off of him to catch your breath. Your hands twisted around his length, stimulating him in place of your mouth while you breathed, sloppy, slick sounds being heard each time your fist met his pelvis.

“Do it like I taught you.” Were his next instructions, Aizawa obviously getting bored by your hand job. You wanted to kick, and scream, and cry, maybe bite his dick off.

But he’d trained you well.

So you took a deep breath before plunging back down again, moving your head enthusiastically as you throat-fucked yourself, willing your gag reflex to stay calm.

It was only when you felt his dick slip into your throat did your stepdad start to make noise, groaning a little bit as he fisted his hand further into your hair. He was subtly guiding you with the hand, forward and back, forward and back, but letting you move about freely.

After all, you were supposed to be apologizing.

“That’s it, just like that.”

His orgasm built up slowly, cock twitching inside your mouth as you worked him higher and higher, hands playing with the length of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You had to pull off once more to breath, chest heaving, desperately trying to jerk him to completion while his length wasn’t lodged in your mouth.

No such luck.

He came in your mouth, hips bucking a little as he released his milky seed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your fists as you willed yourself not to recoil, not to get sick, not to make a face or do anything else to earn Aizawa’s anger.

You swallowed it down without a fuss, hating yourself for every second you spent being compliant.

But what else could you do?

Cock softening against his thigh, you tucked him back into his sweatpants, leaning your face against his leg to rest for a second.

Your stomach felt warm, full. It made you so sick.

“That was good, you’re learning.” Even his praise was clinical, almost detached. You hated him.

“I’m still upset with you though.”

The admission made you lift your head, turning to your stepfather with a quizzical expression, hurt, feeling betrayed.

“But dad, I just-I got you off? Isn’t that enough?” You wanted to add a “please”, beg for him to say yes, that all is forgiven, that he wasn’t mad anymore, that he wasn’t going to hurt you, or make you do anything else.

Aizawa tutted. “It’s enough when I say it is, and you messed up big time. You think a measly little blowjob makes up for all the shit you’ve tried to pull today? I don’t think so.”

“But, wasn’t it-didn’t I do good? I thought-“

“It was nice, you’re getting the hang of how to move your tongue. But I think there should be a little more effort put into your apology.”

You wanted to cry. This wasn’t fair, you had done enough already, wasn’t he satisfied? Why was he like this, so creepy and gross? Why couldn’t you have had a normal stepfather, who treated you like a normal person, who didn’t rip away your autonomy and freedom.

Aizawa could tell you weren’t fond of having to continue, but he wasn’t fond of your behavior.

A sudden jerk from the hand in your hair had you gasping in pain, Aizawa leaning over as he pulled you towards him. Your hands grabbed for his wrists, but he was already talking, anger swimming in those grey eyes of his.

“I’m being lenient with you. Do you understand how awful you’ve been these past few weeks? You’re pathetic. You think I wouldn’t catch you trying to sneak out the back door? You think I wouldn’t notice the hickies on your neck after you come home from “hanging out” with your girls?”

Your blood ran ice cold, draining out of your face. You thought you had told your (tentative, maybe) boyfriend to not leave any marks, that your dad would notice, that you’d get in trouble. You though you’d gotten away with that little secret, with the fact that you’ve been seeing someone every time you tell your dad you’re just chilling with friends.

Trying to sneak out the back door had been dumb, but you had felt desperate, upset, detested by your life. Hating the daily routine of being assaulted by your stepdad, being forced to be obedient and docile and cater to his lecherous whims.

Spread your legs when he asks, suck him off under the table when he tells you to, keep the bathroom door unlocked when you take a shower, in the off chance that he’d like to join you.

Not being able to tell anyone, caring the burden of shame and regret like heavy weights on your back.

Having to kiss him on the mouth, feel his stubble burning your cheeks, the sensitive skin of your thighs when he felt particularly giving.

His daily “lessons” almost always made you cry, either his harsh words or his insistence that you learn how to please him, it was only your natural role.

A daughter should always do her best to please her daddy.

Even just a night of freedom away from his grasp was welcomed, savored as a treat. You just needed to get away, but even that was asking too much.

“So-“ Aizawa released you, and you immediately rubbed at your stinging scalp. “What do you think I should do?”

“I-I wanna go to bed.” You mumbled, eyes darting wildly around the room, focusing anywhere except the dark-haired man in front of you.

“Oh? I didn’t expect you to be so forward about that.” He taunted, leaning forward onto his knees, lacing his fingers together with a mean smirk.

“No, I want to sleep….. please.” You knew that Aizawa had intentionally misunderstood you, intent on making you plead with him for simple mercies like sleep.

Aizawa sighed, rising to his feet. You scrambled to your feet also, feeling too small and weak kneeling on the floor underneath him like that. Still, he towered over you, running a lazy hand through his dark locks as he regarded you.

“I can’t just let you go unpunished, what kind of father would I be? Letting you lie and sneak around behind my back like this. Your daddy is supposed to care for you. I’d never neglect you.”

You wish he would.

“I learned my lesson dad, I swear. I won’t sneak out, I’ll-I’ll stay home and have my friends over instead of going out! Anything, just-just not……”

Not whatever he had planned for the rest of the night.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples as he circled a hand around your arm, beginning to lead you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wanted to balk, but knew that doing so would only worsen your punishment.

“Thats a start, and we’ll do that moving forward. But you won’t be getting out of a punishment. Offering compromises and begging won’t get you anywhere, even if you do sound sweet.”

Pulling you into his bedroom, your stepdad let go of your arm, closing the door behind you. He moved to turn on a lamp by the bedside, turning off the overhead light so the room was cast in a low, yellow glow.

“Strip, then on the bed.”

You trembled as you slowly shucked off your clothes, Aizawa beginning to do the same, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

But that was normal.

Aizawa was a fit man, able to manhandle you and pin you down, keep you still with the muscles hiding under his skin. But he was a father, and older, his body taking on the characteristics of someone who enjoyed life.

His thighs were thick, his abdomen sturdy. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but his muscles were overplayed with a nice layer of fat. He looked like a bear, with the dark hair on his chest, his thick limbs, his solid frame.

But the man wasn’t shy, and by the time you had stripped down to your panties he was completely nude, pink cock soft against his thigh.

“Dad, I really don’t want to do-“

“I don’t care. Get on the bed.”

You bit your lip, staying still. “Please, please, I said I’m sorry-“

Within a second, Aizawa’s hand was around your throat, his eyes blazing as he shoved you against the wall.  

“This is what’s going to happen.” His voice was raspy, grinding out past his clenched teeth as he invaded your space. “You’re going to do as I say and get on the bed, or else I’ll use my belt on you until you bleed. Once you’re on the bed, you’re going to lay nice and pretty for daddy while I get everything ready. I got a candle to play with, and a couple of toys, and daddy wants to see how well they makes you moan for me.”

You were shivering, fingers scrabbling at the hand squeezing your airway, still allowing you to breath, but just barely.

“You’re gonna get all fucked out and stupid, ’n then I’m gonna bounce you on my cock until I’m satisfied, got it?” The man continued, his nose almost touching yours “Then you’re gonna wear a plug all night, and all tomorrow morning. I get to have you whenever I want, and you won’t complain or else I’ll cum inside, alright?”

Nodding your head, you felt tears rising. You had to do what Aizawa said though, you couldn’t take the risk of having the man cum inside.

“I’ll decide a better way to continue your punishment tomorrow, when I’m not as upset with you. Maybe by then you’ll figure out how to listen to daddy.”

When the man released your throat, you gasped, coughing a bit as you sucked in oxygen. Aizawa was already pushing you towards the bed, eyes trained on your figure.

The new knowledge that this wouldn’t even be the brunt of your punishment was devastating, and you felt your chest tighten up as you struggled not to cry. Crying would only get him to mock you.

All you could do was comply.

“I need you to remember-“ Your step dad catches you by the wrist, tilts your chin with a finger so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine.”

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

[kellinrk800]

toko fukawa comphet no i don’t take criticism

nobody will even see this because my account just. doesnt get traction but here have a ramble abt toko’s backstory and how much i firmly believe her attraction was comphet.

spoilers for thh, sdr2 and udg

tw// ab/se, n/glect, severe bullying

toko was severely neglected and unwanted when she was a child. she grew up with two mothers and one father due to both sleeping with the same man and neither wanting their child which caused her to be mistreated. once she was locked in a closet and forced to stay there for three days without food. clearly, she grew up in a household completely devoid of healthy love. genocide jack’s development was likely a response to cope with the traumatic experiences.

her time in elementary was no different. in third grade, she was used as a scapegoat for stolen money and her classmates tied her to the jungle gym with a garden hose as punishment.

her first real “love” was with a boy who she had been friends with since elementary but when she finally confessed through a letter, she found it pinned to the bulletin board to mock her. this was genocide jack’s first kill, leading me to believe that her murders were actually a form of protection.

on one occasion (and most likely more considering her difficult relationship with understanding rejection) she was ghosted halfway through on a date after spending three days and nights planning it so that she would not mess it up. she later found out that the boy only asked her out because he lost a bet.

the most likely only healthy representation of love she ever has was through media, which is arguably extremely heteronormativity and the actual healthiness of how relationships are presented in media is debatable.

she internalised all of these things happening to her and believed she deserved them somehow, building her inferiority complex. she began to assume that people only expected bad of her and self victimises herself almost on instinct despite her nature to express opinions without care for others most of the time. her self esteem is extremely low and she often worries about being considered an “old hag” in ultra despair girls.

toko fell in love with the idea of love, not an actual person. at some point she turned to novels and writing as a way to express her emotions and she used that passion to create works of art through her novels and created a toxic idolisation of the perfect relationship with nothing but media, her family’s relationships and her past experiences to go off.

she began to let herself get hurt and internalise it which ended up building her inferiority complex even further to the point of becoming unhealthily infatuated with anyone she saw fit as a stand in for the dreamy perfect people that made her books succeed.

time and time again genocide jack and toko were mistreated in their relationships, causing their system to suffer greatly. jack began to kill anyone toko saw fit as a perfect romantic interest to protect them both, but this most likely caused her own mental health to decline as well, leading to the aggressive, startling and manic personality we saw in the games.

toko began to both idolise and fear falling in love. while she knew they would most likely be killed and she would have to cope with knowing that the police could come knocking any day if they put the pieces together, she also still purposed her life around being in a perfect relationship because it was now causing her to gain traction through her novels.

this only furthered her unhealthy infatuation with relationships. she became determined to find a man who fit her description of the perfect man and would not mislead, use, mock or hurt toko in hopes that he would not be killed and she would finally achieve her dream.

enter byakuya togami. blonde, blue eyed, rich, cold and most importantly, entirely unattainable. he was an ideal stand in, especially considering the circumstances of the killing game (jack’s unique killing style would immediately be found out). she was able to fantasise from afar without ever really getting as severely hurt as she had in the past because he simply did not care to provide her his attention.

jack had two options. kill byakuya and get executed, or suck it up. clearly you can tell which option she chose. in addition, she had all of her memories from prior to the game which most likely slightly numbed her thirst for blood. by the end of ultra despair girls, she has grown a respect for toko, a softness for komaru and even calmed jack down to the point where it’s suggested that she no longer uses her skills to murder but instead fight despair.

in fact, near the end, toko is acutely aware of what is happening despite the fact jack was fronting (they don’t usually share memories, only emotions), suggesting they may have slightly integrated but i don’t really want to make assumptions considering i do not have did and am not educated enough to speak confidently about did.

ironically, the killing game was actually good for both of their mental health’s. i’ll only be talking about toko but in ultra despair girls she was emotionally stronger and more mature. she believed she finally had a purpose other than romance and that she could fight against all odds. she even credits makoto for her newfound courage. she criticises cowards and those that remind her of her past self. she is willing to challenge her fears.

komaru had an amazingly powerful and positive effect on them both. her softness, optimism and empathy help toko’s character develop even further. when komaru tries to give in to despair, toko encourages her to face her fears. toko, who was before extremely afraid and uncomfortable with being touched, is now willing to comfort and even hug komaru. she claims she’s finally found a true friend (that’s actually human, can’t forget kameko the stinkbug) and that she found hope in her.

komaru admires toko and doesnt really mind her split personality, instead just considering it “a bit strange”, which is a noticeable difference from how she was treated by everyone else for it. toko is protective of komaru during chapter two due to her suspicion of shirokuma. later, they even sleep in the same bed.

however, when toko risks komaru’s life for byakuya, they get into an argument in which toko accuses komaru of manipulating her with terms such as “friends”, which leads to komaru showing that she really does trust her.

later, this arguably resolved after servant forces jack and toko to fight against komaru for byakuya. they fight back against servant and komaru forgives her because they are friends, which makes toko extremely happy, so much that she blushed and admits she has never had a real friend before. she thanks komaru genuinely for the first time and they try to become real friends.

toko swears she will help komaru with anything she can’t do by herself, just like komaru would do for her.

toko even stays by her side to the point of rejecting the opportunity of going to future foundation to stay with komaru :)

in the end of danganronpa goodbye despair, which is set after ultra despair girls, kyoko reminds byakuya that someone is waiting for him and he jokes that she shouldn’t remind him of “something so horrifying”. and honestly i think the fact he was able to joke about it shows that perhaps toko and byakuya found a somewhat healthy relationship as friends, acquaintances, or even just bearing eachother’s presence.

a notable addition that didn’t really fit anywhere else is toko’s scrapped execution. “first kiss prank” is the title and it consists of byakuya running towards her before toko gets hit by a roller. that says enough about her biggest fears and how badly her past memories affected her.

in conclusion, toko fukawa’s obsession with byakuya was comphet due to pressure from the media and her toxic ideals. the fact she was able to form a healthy relationship with komaru is hhh and i could talk about them for hours. tokomaru is the second closest thing we have to inmedia stated canon (fuck kodaka’s statement me and the homies hate kodaka’s statement about naegiri /j)

sources: toko fukawa’s fandom wiki, genocide jack’s fandom wiki, free time events, transcripts

[thewitchandtheassassin]

What Would An Angel Say, The Devil Wants to Know Part Four (Lena Luthor x Reader)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Summary: Why can’t you learn to control your emotions?

Words: 1576

Warnings: Language, angst, talks of violence.

Taglist:  @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami​ @aznblossom​

A/N: So I did a thing. And here we are.

-X-

Planning a demise wasn't terribly time consuming when someone like Lockwood was helping. Dastardly and vile, his ideas were straight to the point as you discussed your options. While you couldn't outright end the human's life with your own hands, he was quick to point out the most effective options that even a great angel like Lena couldn't stop. Cars were too uncertain and, while the elevator had been a good touch, something like that was too preventable.

"You need quick. Abrupt. No possible room for survival," Ben advised, sunglasses obscuring his face despite having no need for them as he eyed the blonde strolling briskly past you, none the wiser of your existences.

"True, but we have to be smart," you added, glancing around in search of Lena's tell: her "heavenly" glimmer.

"Yes, yes, I know. Your little angel is cunning but I think you give her too much credit," Ben replied, his eyes undoubtedly rolling as he sneered at the humans walking along.

Snorting, you jabbed your dagger into his side, ignoring his hiss of pain or the way he swatted at your hand. "No, I'm just not arrogant enough to underestimate her."

Your eyes strayed back to Kara as she slipped back into her office building and then - only then - did you seem the shine of the angel that often haunted your thoughts. The cretins of the earth couldn't see her but you could, her dark locks fluttering in the wind as she gazed back at you pleadingly.

Pieces of you hated her. Truly. Deeply. You would bear marks for the rest of eternity because of her.

But in the same token, you couldn't deny that your memories with her often left your stomach twisted in knots as you reminisced over the smile that made your heart ache. It hurt, remembering how things had once been. Before you were forced to fight with her; fight for your life.

You could see Lena's expression shift the moment it dawned on her who was standing beside you. The way her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, defiantly glaring at the smug demon beside you.

"Uh oh. I think your little angel recognizes me," Ben cackled, fingers curled into a taunting wave.

Snarling your lip, you growled, "She's not my angel, you ass. Now shut up before I cut your fucking tongue out."

Ben clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Testy, testy, (Y/N). Such a killjoy."

Cutting your eyes at him, your grip tightened on your dagger. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

You glanced back over to the building, but Lena was nowhere to be seen.

-X-

Querl studied his ward curiously, occasionally reading whatever Nia was writing though his stare always returned to the woman he was sent to protect. She was so entrancing and for once in his existence, Querl wished to be human again. If only for a day.

So enthralled by Nia, he didn't notice Lena's presence until her voice startled him off the desk he'd been perched on.

"Gods, Lena, you scared me!" he yelped, clutching his chest as he stared at the openly bothered woman.

"Maybe if you had been paying attention to your surroundings and not gawking, you would've noticed me," Lena scolded, though her words held no real bite to them.

"You seem troubled." Querl's brows furrowed together worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Shaking her head, Lena snagged her bottom lip between her teeth before sighing. "No. Complications have arisen and I'm unsure of what's going to happen."

"What complications?"

Peering over at Kara's messy desk, her nostrils flared slightly. "It appears (Y/N) has been given a helper. Lockwood."

Inhaling sharply, Querl's eyes flitted between Nia and Kara. "What should we do?"

"Be watchful. And careful. (Y/N) might have once been a friend but with Lockwood here, we must be vigilant or they'll both be dead before we can stop it."

It was difficult, accepting your new role in her life. Mortal enemies instead of teasing rivals you'd once been. Friends no longer, especially if you were willing to work with him.

A monster in every sense of the word.

"If she's working with him, you need to be careful. This seems way more personal than just an assignment," Querl advised sagely. "I want to believe it isn't but I can't imagine Ben will let this finish without trying to end you. Or having her try to kill you, to prove herself."

Your punishment had been no secret, most of the guardians far too aware of what your friendship with Lena had left you with, the bad blood thick and the scars deep.

"(Y/N) wouldn't..."

"Maybe the old (Y/N) wouldn't but now? Everything is different, Lena. You must accept that. Putting too much faith in her could cost us everything."

Swallowing dryly, the angel nodded. He was right...

She just wished he wasn't.

-X-

"We could always send a helicopter crashing into the building," Ben mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "If that didn't kill the human, surely the building collapsing would."

"That would kill too many others," you argued, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. "We're supposed to be discreet. Dropping a building on a bunch of them definitely wouldn't be discreet."

Lockwood shrugged, completely unbothered by his suggestion. "The human must die. At least we'd know for sure she was dead. Plus Querl's little charge is up there. Two sad, pathetic birds. One mighty stone."

"Not a chance, Woody, pick a new idea."

Ben sneered. He hated that nickname and you knew it, only using it to get under his skin. "Fine."

Smirking at his obvious annoyance, you peered up at the sky absently, noting the darkening clouds. You couldn't remember life as a human (if you'd ever been one to begin with) but you almost wished you could if only to feel the rain on your skin. It seemed like such a peaceful experience, the water trickling over flesh, soaking into clothes instead of rolling off dark wings.

"I'm going to see if I can come up with a better plan," you jeered, heading for the building before he could reply.

Stretching your wings, you kicked off the ground and slowly maneuvered to the floor your mark resided on, eyeing the oblivious blonde through the window. You were well aware you'd be attracting unwanted attention but you couldn't stand being around Ben any longer. If you didn't get a few minutes of space, you were likely to ram your dagger into his throat and send him back to the underworld without his body.

The shift of the air was apparent and you smirked knowingly at Lena's reflection in the glass.

"Stop smirking at me," Lena demanded, arms crossed in frustration.

Snorting, you twisted to face her, brow arching in amusement. "Or what?"

"You're working with Lockwood now?" she questioned, ignoring the challenge hidden in your words. "You hate that spawn of Hell."

You shrugged nonchalantly, peering at the throngs of people below. "He's my ticket to survival."

"He's a slimy coward who wants you dead!"

"Clearly so do you!" you shouted, eyes narrowing into a venomous glare dripping with disdain. "At least he's trying to keep me alive a little longer."

"You're an idiot if you really believe that."

Rolling your eyes, you inched closer to the infuriated woman. "No, I was an idiot thinking you ever cared about me, Lena. At least Lockwood doesn't lie to my face and pretend to be my friend."

"I am your friend!" Lena screamed, the green of her irises dissolving as energy flowed through her. "I don't want you to die!"

As if sensing the tension, the sky went alight with lightning as rain began to flow, startling the humans and hurriedly soaking them to the bone. If only it could wash away the anguish and pain twisting your insides; silence the beasts banging around in your head.

"Bullshit! You pretend to be some pure, precious guardian but you're really just as manipulative and cruel as every other angel. You think that energy of yours makes you above everyone but you're no better than me! And I should've seen that instead of falling in love with some white-winged bitch!" You shoved her, hard, barely containing the want to strangle the guardian who'd ruined you.

Fury washed over you in waves, rendering you heedless of the unwitting admittance that had passed your parted lips, only the sounds of your enraged breathes ringing in your ears. A flurry of emotions crossed Lena's features but you didn't care, simply wanting to either bolt away from the angel or toss her into the sun.

Whichever was easier.

"Y-you're in love with me?" she whispered, the power draining away and leaving behind imploring emeralds that were glassy with something.

The blood drained from your face as you poured through your last words. You had never meant to say that. Because you weren't in love with her. Couldn't be. There was no love in your heart, especially for her.

"I..."

Lena's fingers twitched, the urge to reach out overwhelming as she silently begged you to stay. To help her understand.

"(Y/N)-"

Shaking your head violently, you jerked backward. "No! No, no, no. I don't - I can't - fuck!"

Red lips dipped open but you didn't stay long enough to hear what she had to stay.

Fire erupted...

And then you were gone.

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever Ch.2

Warning: abuse apologizing, mention of past physical abuse, implied manipulation, abuse minimizing

Taglist: @mediocredetective

Previous

“Here you go Solomon,” Asmo says as they pass the phone to the sorcerer. “Arella says she wants to ask you something. I’ll be back.” And with that the Avatar of Lust took his leave, leaving their older brother with a look of confusion as Solomon moved away from where he literally had the second-born tied down so he couldn’t move. He turned his lapis gaze over to his younger brother who merely shrugged as he went back to chowing down on a bag of crisps he had raided from Purgatory Hall’s pantry.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything,” Beel said with a mouthful of crisps. “I’m going to head home too though. Dinner’s starting soon. Do you want me to try to save you some? It’s Lucifer’s night to cook.”

“Nah... it’ll just go to waste. Lucifer’s still probably mad at me so I doubt he’ll let me inta the house for the rest of the night.” The Avatar of Greed chuckles sadly. “So don’t worry. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

The Avatar of Gluttony nodded as he left and Mammon impatiently waited for Solomon to come back.

“I’d offer you something to eat or drink but it looks like you’re... a little tied up at the moment.” Simeon tried to break the tension in the room with the unhappy demon.

“Why did ya have ta go ‘n call Arella like that, huh, Simeon?” Mammon asks, eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I told y’all I was fine, my arm was just a bit busted was all. I woulda survived without her knowin’ ‘n now she’s gonna go off the deep end thinkin’ I need ta be saved or some shit like that when I can take care of myself.”

“She loves you, Mammon. All she wants is for you to be happy and safe. You know that.”

“All of ya are makin’ it sound like Lucifer just straight up broke my elbow for shits ‘n giggles when it was an accident. I’m the one who didn’t wait for him ta let go a me before I started pullin’ ta get away, so really it’s my own fault that it’s broken.”

“Yeah, but things like this seem to happen between you and Lucifer a lot- and I mean a lot a lot.”

“Yeah but... he loves me though. He only does things like this because he loves me. I’m his favorite and he just wants me to learn my lesson is all. If I wouldn’t screw up all the time this wouldn’t happen as often- o-or at all even. ‘Sides it ain’t like I’m the only one who ever gets punished. The rest of my brothers all get their punishments too when they screw up. It’s all fair.”

Simeon gave the demon a doubtful look. “You seem to be the only one who gets any physical punishment though...”

“Yeah, but that’s only cuz I’m a blockhead who just doesn’t learn his lesson. I mean the physical stuff only started within the last century- that's when my dear ol’ brother got fed up with wastin’ his breath. You’d think I’d learn by now huh?”

The angel tries to find the words to say what he’s thinking but he can’t, so he just goes about it in a different approach. No wonder Arella worries about him like this. His brother has him completely manipulated into thinking this is acceptable.

“You... you can’t seriously think that, right?” Simeon asks incredulously. “Mammon, this isn’t okay. Regardless of whether your brother actually loves you or not,

“He does,” Mammon interjects.

“He shouldn’t constantly be putting his hands on you for even the slightest of transgressions- especially if it’s due to something you can’t help, like your sin.”

“Of course, it is. C’mon, Simeon, who’re ya kidding? We’re demons! Our morals are different from those of the Celestial Realm or the Human Realm.... That’s just the way things are down here. Do ya gotta like it? No, but y’all gotta accept it.”

“Don’t you think you sound a little... how do I put this... brainwashed?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well... I just think maybe you’re so blinded by your love for your brothers that-”

“Hi! I’m back!” Asmo called as they lugged a heavy suitcase behind them. They plopped down on the couch. “Miss me?”

The pair just sort of regarded the strawberry blonde-haired demon as they sat next to their older brother.

“Goin’ somewhere, Asmo?” Mammon asks as he eyes the suitcase, “Wait a minute is that my suitcase?”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m not going anywhere. You are.”

“Huh? I’m not going anywh-”

“Well it was nice talking to you, Arella. I’ll untie him now so you can summon him. We’ll talk in a few weeks, yes?” Solomon promptly reentered the space, “Perfect- oh look Asmo’s back too. I’ll let you go then.” The call ended as Solomon undid the spell binding Mammon to the couch with a wave of his hand.

As Mammon stood, a portal opened up in front of him. “I’m not goin’ through that.”

“And why not?” the angel asks. “I thought you’d be delighted to have the opportunity to go stay with your human for two weeks.”

“Alone. Might I add.” Asmo smirks with a waggle of their brows.

“Shut up, Asmo!” The Avatar of Greed turned a shade of bright red, “Of course, I know we’d be alone! Who else would be there? But....”

“Are you scared Lucifer will be upset that you’re up there without his permission, Mammon?” Simeon asks.

“No! I ain’t scared of Lucifer! What gave you that idea, huh?!”

“You do realize you’re being summoned right? You don’t get much of a choice in that matter. Now, get going before you end up getting pulled through and hurt your arm again.” The sorcerer takes Mammon’s suitcase and tosses it through the portal, leaving the demon to squawk indignantly as he chased after it.

“You suck, Solomon!” Is all that could be heard from the other side of the portal as it started to close and the silver-haired human only rolled his eyes, chuckling amusedly.

“Have fun in the mortal realm, Mammon!”

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

The one thing Mammon hates about being summoned is how nearly every time he goes through a portal, he nearly slams into whoever it is that summoned him if they’re standing in his way which is exactly the situation he finds himself in with Arella right now- not a good look for his image, it's very ‘uncool’.

“Hey,” Arella smiles as she wraps her arms around him once they come to a stop.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I’m mad at ya.” The demon says with a deep scowl on his face.

“I’m sure you are. How’s your arm feeling? Does it still hurt?”

“I’m fine, Arella. Stop treating me like a kid.”

“Huh?” Arella asks, confused as she removes her arm from around him. “I’m... sorry?”

“Ya should be,” Mammon hums as he turns his back to her. “I told ya everything was fine. Ya didn’t hafta go ‘n do all this. I can take care of myself when it comes to my brothers so I don’t get why you think ya gotta get involved every time I get in a situation with one of ‘em.”

“I just thought... well I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re right.” She walked away headed to where the kitchen was to clean up the mess that had been left from the cup of tea she’d had before all of this.

“Huh? Whaddya mean by that?” The demon followed after her looking to continue their small spat.

“Exactly what it sounds like. You’re right. You can take care of yourself when it comes to your brothers and there really is no need for me to insert myself into the situation but I love you and I hate seeing it happen and not doing anything to defend you so... I’m sorry. If it offends you that much, I won’t do it again.” She says as she washes her cup and the other dishes she had left. “Do you want me to send you home after dinner?”

“I.... no- but not because I don’t want to go back and deal with Lucifer...” The white-haired demon takes a seat at the kitchen island resting his chin on his arms. “I only wanna stay cuz I missed ya...”

“I missed you too...” She rubbed his back as she leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m treating you like a kid... if you want to stay the whole time you can treat it... like a holiday of sorts.”

“Where are we anyway? I know ya said ya were sellin’ yer old house...but the air smells different. How far away did ya move? Are we still in England?”

“About that...” She looked away sheepishly, “I kind of told you a little white lie... I sold that house about a month or two ago. What I’ve been doing since then is house-hunting and all the things that go with buying a house in another country... We’re in Germany- Berlin, exactly.”

“You lied? Oh, you’re horrible.” The demon feigns a look of hurt as the human laughs. “But seriously, baby, why would ya move so far away?”

She shrugged. “Wanted a change. I can speak German so why not- it's not like I have any family to miss back in England, anyway.”

He nods at that. “So no one knows where we are?”

“Nope,”

“Not even my brothers?”

“Not even your brothers.” She smiled. “I told you: if we wanted to, we could disappear up here and no one would ever know.” She cupped his face in between her hands. “You don’t have to go back home if you don’t want to...”

“I don’t have to decide right now, do I? You won’t leave if I want to go home, right?”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to choose between me or the Devildom- there's a lot to give up down there. You can think about it while we’re up here for the next two or three weeks and if you want to go home after then, then I will still be with you, okay? I just want to give you options.”

He nodded as he moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Doll.”

“Anytime, Baby.” She hummed.

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

Next

Find more on my masterlist

[nikkywrites]

The Superhero Next Door // Part One

Summary: Starla moves in with her sister. Things get better. Then she notices her new neighbor and not in a good way.

Based off this prompt/idea by @caffeinewitchcraft

This one has been reworked a bit. Still the same story though, just fixed how Starla notices Duke, basically. That’s the biggest change.

*****

"That would be a literal blessing," her sister says, sighing into the phone with hope that pierces through the static of low reception.

"Well," Starla sighs, hand on her hip, looking at the stacked boxes in her apartment, artfully ignoring the eviction notice laying on the kitchen counter. "I kind of don't have a place to live past Thursday, so I don't have much of a choice."

"Well, you're always welcome to come take the guest room."

Starla rubs the bridge of her nose. "I can't afford any rent, though."

"You don't need to pay rent, " Melissa insists, words garbled by the piercing sound of a crying baby. There's some rustling, sound muffled as she deals with the crying newborn. "You're my sister,” she continues, voice softer as she soothes the baby, practically cooing. "It's no problem and you'd be doing me a huge favor anyways, with the kids."

"Okay," Starla says, nodding to herself, like she has options and a choice. "Let's do it."

So she moves in.

It’s what’s best for both them, what with Starla’s apartment block being torn down to place a strip mall, and with Melissa having two new babies that she was raising solo. This was better for both of them, and it would help restore their bond that had been neglected since they had both reached adulthood and thrown themselves into work and romance.

This was good.

Starla moves in easily, happy to be closer to her sister and niece and nephew, but missing the busyness of city life.

She’s a babysitter now. Glorified, with her lack of rent, and definitely overpaid, but still a babysitter.

It’s exhausting, so maybe not so much overpaid or glorified. Maybe she had underestimated the amount of work and attention two babies took.

Watching one baby is difficult, but two? It’s the only thing that fills her day, and it does a fantastic job of doing so. It takes time, and after only a few days, she’s become adept at holding them both at once and caring for both of their needs.

She’s becoming a good aunt, she thinks. A solid second parent to the tiny babies who will never meet the man tied to them by blood. It’s hard, but she loves them and that makes it worth it.

It doesn’t take long for her to familiarize herself with the neighbors. 

Casey from down the block walks her two Shepherd mixes twice a day every day. Mat from across the street brings his sons to the park three days a week. Leslie jogs at six in the morning before work. Jake brought her a welcoming tin of muffins when he noticed that she’d moved in, a joint gift from him and his wife. Kay from the end of the road hosts a weekly hang out that she kindly sent her an invitation to alongside a welcome note.

None of them are who catches her attention, though. It’s Duke, who is her new direct neighbor who catches her eye. She’s never bumped into him or anything, but she’s acutely aware of his existence.

She’s-- she doesn’t mean to spy, but she’s sure that he’s no normal neighbor.

She’s fairly convinced that he’s a Super, actually.

No one in the neighborhood suspects, no idle gossip whispered when she questioned about the new neighbor who hasn’t bothered (or noticed) that someone new has moved into the house next door. He’s fairly secluded among everyone.

He doesn’t go to Kay’s hangouts. He’s just home to sleep, everyone says. He’s not a social guy. He does, though, travel into the city pretty often for hours at a time. Some of it is on a schedule.

Some of it is not.

Starla has... perhaps checked the news when he does, to see how often it lines up with city Super sightings, but it doesn’t enough for obvious eyebrows to be raised. But she knows that Supers don’t always go out in suits when they’re working, so it’s an iffy measurement from the start.

It doesn’t damn or clear him.

Not much would. But she’d find what she had to. If he was low-level, she’d be fine with it. It was the high tiers who couldn’t escape from their work. Who’s work followed them after they shrugged off the suit and the mask and the name.

It was fine if he wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t planning on outing him. She just needed to know if he was safe.

After she learned that, she’d leave him be.

It’s his fault for being obvious. He comes home bruised and battered from an office job. He has odd hours. He’s left for the city at night a time or two, speeding out of his driveway in a hurry. No one has ever been in his house. No one has said anything more then hello or good morning to him. He was a ghost. A picture of what it looked like when someone was trying to be invisible.

It was suspicious. It had her gut rolling in unease.

Scones are how she decides to start. it’s polite to bake goods for neighbors and scones are bland enough he probably won’t hate them. It’ll open the door of her getting closer.

The twins are napping when she gets the chance to start throwing the batch together. She hopes they sleep for the hour or so it’ll take for her to throw it in the oven because she’s starting it from scratch. They don’t, of course, or more specifically, Cassie doesn’t.

She abandons the bowl of unmixed powders with liquid poured over the top like a faulty volcano to scoop up the crying baby.  “Hey baby,” she coos, swiping a finger over a soft, velvet cheek as she bounces softly. “Whatcha crying for, huh?”

She settles fairly quickly, her large eyes drifting down. Carefully, Starla sets her back into the rocker and returns to baking, sacrificing time for silence. 

They sleep through the rest of mixing and shaping into triangle-esque blobs. It’s after she sets the timer that they wake again, and she’s quick to go over and give them another feeding, and a diaper change for Benjamin.

Caring for them both had seemed impossible, at the beginning, but now it was as easy as breathing.

Her life is turning around, rising from the bland routine it had fallen into. A brightening comet that lights her night sky.

Things were much less stressful now. She enjoyed her day to day, which she didn’t before. She’d loved the city, but it hadn’t been kind to her and the eviction notice was just the straw that broke her. That sent her away. The suburbs were nice, too, though, and she was close enough to the city to be satisfied.

It was safer, too.

Or, it was statistically. She’d never suspected her apartment floormates or coworkers to be Supers. Now she was determined her neighbor was one. Now she was worried about it.

Back at her apartment, a ripped-up street was just another Thursday. Rubble blocking a road was normal. It hadn’t disturbed her too much. Life was boring.

It wasn’t now. And not just because of the twins. She had a mystery, too.

She likes mysteries. Puzzles and games and books. She likes to guess who the villain is, in thriller stories and in mystery books. She guesses right sometimes and she doesn’t on others, but she likes attempting. At trying to slot together all the little clues and dissecting the truth from a heap of mostly inconsequential evidence.

As a kid, she’d wanted to be a police officer. Her dad had watched a lot of crime shows and she’d liked watching them fit pieces together to bring justice. It looked fun, when it was on TV.

Then she grew up. She learned that police work was a lot more boring and restricting than the shows made it out to be. Cops were just second-rate overlooked heroes. They got all the paperwork. None of the glory. They did the stakeouts and the waiting. All of the parts that were a slog. Heroes got the benefits. Her fire had been snuffed out. but she still loved the idea of it.

She still likes solving mysteries. And even if she didn’t-- she doesn’t like the idea of someone dangerous living next to her family. 

What if a fight followed him home and a Super battle broke out? If Supers started fighting that close, there would be nothing she could do.

It was best she figured out what kind of Super her new neighbor was . If she was lucky, he was just a nonpowered, try hard vigilante. Which was kind of illegal, but not particularly dangerous. But that was if she was lucky. If she was unlucky, then they were in danger just because of their proximity to him.

Living in the city, she’d seen too many new reports of mangled office buildings, smoking apartment buildings, has seen too much of the wreckage fighting leaves behind on the streets and the buildings and the people. It had so much impact on people. It was a very destructive thing to happen.

There was a reason why most of city budget goes to upkeep and repair. Super battles break everything and because they’re doing good, they don’t face punishment.

Starla is pretty indifferent to Supers. She knows that they’re expensive and destructive. They’re good too. Now she just doesn’t want that near her sister and the babies.

She was going to figure out just how much danger they were in. Exactly how much.

She was going to figure out Duke’s secret identity.

*****

Done! This one was a struggle to do for some reason. I think it’s a tad better now, though.

[desiredmalfoy]

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin 

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader 

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling. 

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong. 

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley. 

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others. 

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school. 

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n). 

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist. 

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her. 

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.  

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight. 

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms. 

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want  to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her. 

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend.  But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near. 

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing. 

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying. 

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this. 

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry. 

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George?  “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them. 

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden. 

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden. 

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. . 

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do. 

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days. 

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand. 

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence. 

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide. 

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it. 

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her. 

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks. 

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket. 

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours. 

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.” 

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter. 

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way.  She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination. 

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him. 

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently. 

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner. 

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. 

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you. 

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her. 

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy​

[buckysgoldenheart]

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Folks I did my very very best. I am so bad at chaptered fics, it’s insane. But I tried. As always,  Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts. 

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship. 

Words: 1606

Part 7: Change

You were breathing. That’s what Henry kept repeating in his head when he relived that horrible night in his sleep. His body would shoot out of bed, drenched in sweat, and he would have the agonizing thought that he failed. But then he would look to his left, and there you were. You were breathing.

His days were filled with watching you to constantly reassure himself that he hadn’t lost you forever. Every time your breath hitched in your sleep, his did as well. Every time he nearly dozed off in his chair, he shook himself awake for fear that the change hadn’t fully taken hold; that maybe he was too late after all.

“She doing any better?” Henry nearly leapt from his seat at Chris’s voice. His friend walked over after shutting the door quietly behind him.

Henry ran a hand down his face. He needed to relax. He was getting jumpy. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Chris pulled another chair up to Henry’s side and joined in monitoring the rise and fall of your chest. “Are you alright? It’s been a while.”

“This is my fault,” Henry rubbed at his brow with a groan. “I cut it too close. It’s taking too long for her to heal.”

“Do not hate yourself for this, Hen,” Chris said, lightly slapping his friend on the back. “She’s alright. I would’ve done the same if I still had a pretty little human I was so desperately in love with.”

“She’s not human anymore.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

Henry shook his head, denying his friend’s answer to feel the full weight of disappointment in himself. “Elias seemed to think the same, but…not from the same perspective.” He took a deep breath as he remembered the look in the Lord’s eyes right before he broke your neck. There was pity there; acknowledgment of a loss he knew Henry would not get over for centuries, if at all. “He didn’t think I would turn her. He left her body there, knowing I could turn her before it was too late, but he was so sure I wouldn’t. Why, do you think?”

“Henry,” Chris whined with irritation. “Don’t start—”

“Because we don’t subject the ones we love to this life,” Henry said as he stared at you, then he looked to Chris. “You never turned Amara. You loved her as a human until she died because you knew she would be miserable if she were like us.”

Chris swallowed the pain; the discomfort in his gut at the reminder of the woman he would’ve crushed mountains into rubble for. “I agree, this is not an ideal life, but…take it from me. When you’re in love with a human, there is nothing more painful than seeing them age without you.” The blond cleared his throat, and his voice shook slightly as he continued. “I couldn’t give Amara a normal life. I couldn’t marry her or give her children untainted by vampire blood like she wanted. So, I honored her wishes and let her go on to find that human she married. But don’t think for a second that if someone killed her when she was mine, that I wouldn’t have bitten her to save her too. It’s not wrong to save the ones we love, Henry.”

Henry grunted like the stubborn mule both you and his friend knew he was.

“Look, Amara is not Y/N,” Chris said, pushing his friend to see the best in the choices made the day you died. “Y/N was the first human to love a vampire in centuries. She saw you as more than what you are. Do not take advantage of that gift. She is now like us. You can have her forever. There was a time when I would’ve given anything to have the same.”

Henry rose an eyebrow. “So, I’m being an unappreciative prick, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Chris smirked, taking a drink from his glass, and standing. “But I won’t hold it against you.”

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

You woke with a massive arm draped over your abdomen. It felt like a heavy brick and you couldn’t get enough air, so you blindly shoved at it until lifted. The bed shook as you deeply inhaled, swallowing oxygen the way you would if your head just broke the surface of the ocean and you could finally feel the air on your skin.

“Oh, thank fuck,” You heard whispered from your left as two massive hands cupped your cheeks and turned your head. “Open your eyes, baby.”

You tried and winced when the tiniest bit of light seeped in, slamming them shut again to avoid the headache.

“It’s ok,” The voice said. “It’s ok. Try again, just take it slow.”

You did as asked, bracing yourself for the pain of it but powered on, blinking a few times until your view came into focus. “Henry?”

Your voice was gravelly and felt itchy in your throat, but by the way Henry’s face lit up, it might as well have been the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Hey,” He smiled, running a hand over the top of your head. Tears welled in his eyes; the blue orbs darting all over your face as he stroked your hair. One of the droplets fell on your cheek and Henry quickly kissed it away.

His lips were warm, and you sighed into the feeling, suddenly sinking into the curve of his body as it lay against yours. “I feel like I died and rose again,” You groaned as you stretched your limbs the best you could, testing their limits to alleviate the stiffness.

“You’ll feel better soon.” Henry kissed your forehead. “It just takes a little time.”

You tilted your face back from where it was pressed against his hard chest to look up at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He grew uneasy, averting his gaze and shifting his body awkwardly without removing his arms from around you. “The, uh…transformation takes—”

“Transformation?” Your torso rose, surprisingly not aching the slightest.

Henry leaned up as well and cupped your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin in case you tried to kill him. You would have the strength for it now if you planned your attacks strategically. And if you hated him, he would accept your decision. He was selfish, after all, but he couldn’t let you go.

“Baby, you…you did die.” Your eyes widened and Henry internally cringed. “Elias killed you, and I bit you on, um…” He grabbed your wrist and brought it up to your face. “I bit your wrist. I changed you”

And sure enough, there were two faint dots on the inner side of your wrist; the marks shimmering to perfectly match the small cut on your finger.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

Henry moved to lay on his back. You could tell he was avoiding your eyes; that he was scared of your reaction to his next words. Crawling on top of him with unexpected ease, you straddled his waist and planted your hands firmly on his chest. You pressed down lightly, giving him a little jolt, when he had still hadn’t answered.

His eyes locked with yours and he wrapped his fingers around your forearms to keep your steady above him. “I just didn’t want to lose you. I’ve never been that scared in my life, and it made me—"

“No.” You shook your head. “Not why did you do it. I meant, why are you sorry you did? You want me, don’t you?” You didn’t ask for reassurance. You knew how he felt, but you wanted him to see that changing you was the only option if he wanted to be with you; and him wanting to have you would never be something you could punish him for. Being like him did not terrify you. It didn’t shock you into silence. Honestly, you didn’t feel all the different.

He sat up until you were face to face and wrapped his arms around your waist. One hands fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine. “More than anything.”

“Henry, I had nothing for me in that life,” You said as your hands settled on his shoulders. “Nothing.” Tipping your head down, you connected your lips and he moaned so deep his chest vibrated against yours.

“You’re really ok?” He asked when you pulled apart.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” You said.

A small laugh came out in the form of a puff of air, then he tucked his head down until his cheek was resting against your left breast. He sighed, but it came out more like a moan. “I love that sound.”

“You can still hear it?”

“Only when I’m this close,” He said, nipping at the skin and nuzzling into your chest. “You’ll just have to tell me how you feel about me from now on.”

You smiled, but then your face fell serious. “Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“What now?”

He pulled back as he took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “Now the change fully takes hold. Your eyesight will increase, you’ll get stronger every day, your fangs will come in soon, and you’ll hate it because you’re going to be biting your tongue fifteen times a day for about a week.”

You grimaced, but chuckled.

“There are a few other things, but we’ll deal with them as they come, not now. Other than that, not much else,” He said, framing your face with his hands. “You’re mine now, baby. And I’m yours.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that.” He grinned and pressed his lips to yours.

---

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[amoosewritesfanfic]

[+18]

Dom/sub + mind control

[Shinsou Hitoshi x Fem!reader]

[Warnings: quirk play, Shinsou is definitely rough in this, he's like smacking you and spitting in your mouth its great, oral fixation, light orgasm denial, overstimulation.]

[I don't own any of the characters or art all credit goes to the original creators, edit an story is mine tho. All characters are aged up, +18.]

-

Trust was one of the most important aspects of a dom and sub relationship, after all you as the sub are trusting your dom to take care of you and ensure you don't get too overwhelmed or pushed over a limit you can't handle. That's somewhat the relationship you had with Shinsou Hitoshi. He was your dom, you referred to him as either sir or master. In context he called you 'kitten' or 'baby girl' when you were good and 'slut' for when you misbehaved which was often. That bratty attitude was definitely something he loved about you. Sometimes he mixed it up calling you 'slutty kitten' if you wanted to be degraded that day.

Of course today however you really pissed Shinsou off. The drive was a quiet one, uncomfortably quiet. You, not on purpose however, were speaking to a man who happened to be hitting on you. At times you were oblivious so when the unknown man touched your arm or hand it got Shinsou increasingly pissed off. Usually it was an uncomfortable thing to have someone so possessive over you, but with Shinsou it was different. It felt so damn right for him to become a bit jealous over another man flirting with you.

So when you arrived home you didn't even have enough time to take off you shoes before this six foot tall man grabbed your throat and pinned you up against the wall, those indigo coloured hues staring at your eyes carefully. His hand wasn't to tight around your throat either so you were able to breath. "What the fuck was that?" He asked, his voice was low, feral almost, nobody should touch what's his after all. "Nothin'..." was all you said looking away. Now at this point you had two options be a bratty little shit and get the best fuck that your little masochist heart desires or be a good girl and get a loving fuck and give him a nice tender loving and caring just to prove how much you care about your dear master~

Obviously...

"What was that?"

"I said it was nothin' 'Toshi."

Oh you definitely were in for a ride. His hand gripped your cheeks and he was barely inches away from your face. "I thought that's what you said you little whore." and with those words leaving his lips he pried open your mouth before spitting in it. "Keep it in there, don't swallow until I tell you too." He said as he pulled off your shoes before dragging you by your shirt collar to 'the room'.

This room was the room that is most commonly referred to as the red room, but no Shinsou hated that cliche bullshit, so he called it the room. No fancy name or whatever. Of course though on your way to the room you 'accidentally' swallowed his spit so when he pulled you into the room and pushed you to your knees and he smacked you through the face, making you gasp and look back up at him with those big doe eyes, tearing up a little.

"I told you not to swallow little whore~ did you do it on purpose just to annoy me more?" He asked and you just nodded slowly, there it was though that firm grip on your cheeks and those cold harsh eyes glazing over with lust. "You really enjoy a thorough punishment but I'm not gonna give you that satisfaction of being fucked till you can't walk straight." He told you his thumb eased over your bottom lip for a moment before he gave your forehead a soft kiss. "You're a real dumb whore you know that?" He spoke and you shivered a little as his free hand trailed down along your back his hand gripping your ass for a moment before landing a firm smack making you yelp quietly, your hands gripping onto his shirt.

"So tell me little whore, you gonna get on your knees and suck my cock?" He asked you, his voice was husky as if he just woke up. His fingers tugging at your dress bunching it up around your waist. "Use your words~" he hummed against your ear as his hands palmed at your luscious asscheeks making you shiver and press more into him. "Y-yes sir..." you mumbled and then you felt it. That all too familiar sensation of your mind hazing over. His quirk was activated now. "You always look so pretty when you're mindless and submissive~ drop to your knees whore~" he hummed as his thumb ran over your bottom lip and your body moved. You got down on your knees, looking up at him in that dazed expression. "Use that mouth to take my cock out..." he said as his fingers threaded through your hair softly before taking a firm grip on it. You winced slightly but it didnt stop you from pulling down his zipper with your teeth, your nose buried into his crotch.

"There we go..." he murmured, once his pants was undone he helped you a little, pulling his cock out for you, it landed on your face, right on your forehead as you looked up at him with that hazy expression. "Give my balls a nice kiss~" he ordered and you did, without a single sign of hesitation, those soft plump lips of yours leaving a few scattered kisses against his balls. "Ah shit kitten~" his hand which still had that firm grip on your hair tugged your head away from his balls forcing you to look up at him now, his cock resting on your lips. "You gonna service my cock without being a brat?" He asked and you nodded slowly in response and with that he let you out of his quirk.

In which you immediately started to kiss at his cock, keeping your hands on his thighs as you worked his cock with your mouth, giving kisses and kitten licks before you got to his tip, now at this point your tongue ran along the tip dripping with precum, moaning a little from the salty flavor filling up your mouth before you started taking him into your mouth. Those bright eyes of yours looking up at the indigo haired male who had his head tilted back as his cock disappeared into your mouth. Your tongue running along his cock as your head started moving back and forth. Your nose getting tickled by his pubes and your bottom lip pressed against his balls everytime you moved down.

You heard him grunt from the feeling of your tight throat around his cock. "Fuck you always suck me off so good kitten~ ya like that? Do you like having my cock all the way down your fucking throat?" His foot moved to rub against your crotch which had you moaning quietly. You moaned around his cock in response to his question considering you couldn't respond with a mouth full of cock. It made him chuckle however when you pulled slightly back to give your jaw a short break. That definitely didn't sit well with him, because with that firm grip he had on your hair he shoved your face back down making you deep throat his cock once again making you gag, tears stinging the corner of you eyes.

"Naughty thing, you gotta ask kitten. I gotta punish you now~" he said as his free hand moved to cup your chin, with that firm grip on your face his hips started moving back and forth, his pace started off slow. Allowing you to adjust to his movements. "If you're pussy is aching to be touched use my foot..." he said, slowly picking up the pace as his foot remained under your pussy and your hips immediately pressed down against it, grinding your hips back and forth against his foot as his hips kept slamming back and forth against your face, balls slapping your chin. You could feel your drool falling from lips, you knew that there were strings of saliva attached to your chin and his balls.

You felt so lewd, grinding your clothed pussy against his shoe as if you were an absolute bitch in heat, not to mention his cock that was constantly moving in and out of your throat. You felt that pit in your stomach building up as his foot lifted slightly, the feeling of the laces on his shoes added a little more friction to your clit which had your back arch slightly in delight.

"Hmmph~♡" was your response to it, making him smile a little as he pulled his cock from your mouth letting you have some time to breath. However your hips didn't stop moving, not that Shinsou minded it, he found that to be rather adorable.

The fact that you were rutting your hips against his foot with no signs of stopping was a sign to him that you were about to cum, but just to make sure. "You gonna cum?" He asked his thumb ran along your swollen lips making you whimper and nod slowly. You felt that sudden burst of energy that made your hips rut rust against his foot a little more to just get you to your orgasm but he pulled his foot away, making you whine in response. "I told you whore~ I'm gonna make sure you're crying and begging me to fuck you~" he hummed, instead of shoving his cock back inside your mouth he decided to lift you up and carry you to the bed.

That king sized bed covered with the most comfortable silks that were a mixture between black and white, once you were there he started stripping off your clothes. Smiling smugly at the soaked mess between your thighs. "Master... please... please fuck me please..." you whined. "Oh come on now~ get a bit more creative whore~" he hummed giving your thigh a firm smack making you whine, your hips bucking slightly. "You gonna beg like a proper slut? Hmm? You gonna beg like a proper slut for your master fuck this slutty little cunt?~" he asked, flicking his finger over your clit making you grip onto the bedding and moan. "Please master... I want to feel that big fat cock stretching out my insides... I wanna feel that cock rearranging my guts~" you begged as his fingers now smoothed over your thighs, keeping your legs nice and spread with his hand. "Rearrange your guts?" He raised a brow as he stared down at you with those lust filled indigo coloured hues.

"Yes master please... I want it..." you whined out, your hips basically bucking up against nothing, his cock barely inches from you. "That's a new one for you whore~ usually you ask me to fuck you till you can't walk~ are you that needy for cock that you're willing to have your guts completely rearranged? So that slutty hole remembers my shape?" He asked as his hand moved to grope your breast, his palm rubbing against your nipple making you whimper quietly. "Yes, please master... I want my slutty hole to remember nothing but your shape~" you begged at that point he had pulled you a bit closer, pushing your legs up against your chest. "Hold your legs right there~" he ordered and you did as you were told, pulling your hands to hold your legs to your chest.

He aligned his cock with your soaked slit. His thumb easing over your clit making you moan quietly. "You're so ready for me~" he hummed, his tip kissing the folds of your pussy. "All for you... master~" your voice faltered slightly as he slid his tip inside of you. The head stretching you out slowly. "That's my cute little kitten~" he hummed as he slowly eased himself inside you, inch by inch. Making your hands grip onto your thighs as you let out gasps and moans. "Fuck... your insides are so fucking wet, is that just for me?" He asked. "Y-yes..~ it's all for you~" you mewled.

He leaned down and kissed your leg, before he drove the last few inches of himself inside you, his balls pressed right up against your ass. It felt like you were about to cum just from his cock sitting inside you and he definitely felt it, the way your pussy walls tightened around his cock for that brief moment. "Ah shit kitten... you're so tight, were you about to cum?" He asked in a teasing voice making you nod. He let out a low chuckle. "Well then I'll have to make sure that you cum..." he paused, his head lowering slightly to your face making his cock move slightly inside you making you moan quietly.

"You'll be cumming so much you won't even remember how to walk~" he whispered and before you could even respond those hips started moving, it wasn't slow and teasing like you expected, no, it was hard and fast, his balls smacking against your ass and his cock hitting just all the right spots in your pussy making you squirm in his hold. "Ngh~ yes yes yes~" you repeated it like a mantra, your head tilting back as you held harshly onto your thighs, you could feel your orgasm building up in your stomach and there were no signs of Shinsou slowing down, even as your walls tightened around his cock he coaxed you into cumming, whispering sweet nothings of how pretty you looked when you creamed all over his cock. The way your hips lifted up and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your love juices covered his cock. He wasn't stopping in fact he was helping you ride your orgasm out longer, you already had tears staining your face from him face fucking you it only added on. "I-I can't... it's too much master... fuck fuck fuck!" You whined out as he hit another sweet spot, he kept hitting that spot over and over again until you came again, you were a sobbing moaning mess. "Gods kitten, yes... you look so fucking pretty cumming all over my cock~" he hummed.

By the time Shinsou had actually cum you had at least five orgasms and you were on your hands and knees, although you had collapsed from being unable to keep yourself up straight, your body was shaking along with your legs and your mind was blank almost. "Gods you're so amazing y/n..." he whispered against your skin. He decided that the two of you were just going to cuddle for a bit before you got back at it, after all Shinsou wasn't done with you and you knew that.

-

-

[I'm not gonna lie I did rush this one cause I was behind on my schedule of smut writing but yee, some of the prompts will be shorter than others so I'm sorry in advance for that :3]

[fictionadventurer]

More Than All the Gems On Earth: A Retelling of Diamonds and Toads

My mother beats me black and blue while I cast diamonds at her feet. The gems fall from my lips with every apology and plea for mercy, and they scatter across the rough-hewn floor like bits of broken glass. My mother would crush them if she could, and she hates them all the more because she cannot destroy them. The vipers from my sister’s lips slither among the diamonds, cold-blooded creatures born of poison words.

“You did this!” Mother screams, twisting my arm in her iron grip. “You spiteful little wretch! You’ll pay for this!”

It has always been this way--my sister makes the mistakes and I am punished for them. Olive’s task had not been difficult. She had only to walk to the well and give a drink to the old woman who asked. A mere moment of kindness. Yet Olive failed to give even that, and received toads and vipers as her reward.

"I’m sorry!” I cry, and I am. It’s a frightening punishment, even for someone as cruel as my sister. I pity her more than I ever have.

Olive has never felt pity. She slaps my face with the back of her hand. “Witch!” she spits. The word turns into leopard snake as long as my arm; it falls to the floor and twines itself around my leg. “You said she was a beggar, not a princess!”

I try to avoid the toads created by Olive's words as I struggle to escape from Mother. She is pulling me toward the cellar, the place of my most feared punishments. Why is it my fault that the fairy chose another shape? Should it not have been easier for Olive to show kindness to a grand lady?

“No, please!” I scream. A desperate plea for mercy. For understanding. For love.

I had thought that my jewels would make Mother love me, but not even my diamonds were good enough for her. They had to come from Olive. Her hatred of me has destroyed them both, and as always, I am the one to blame.

The thought hardens in my heart like the sapphire that forms in my mouth. They will never love me. They despise the very diamonds I give them simply because they fall from my lips. There is nothing for me here but hatred and misery.

As she strides toward the cellar, Mother steps on a bulbous toad. Her shriek of horror splits my ears, but her grip on my arm loosens. I pull away and sprint out the open cottage door. I flee into the forest with nothing but the clothes on my back and the gems that fall from my lips.

#

Standing by the stream, my words turn into pearls. Milky white, blushing pink, and one as large as my thumbnail that’s as warm and black as a soft summer night. I let them fall into the soft mud of the bank, smiling as I watch the pile grow. Though gems are now common as sand to me, I haven’t tired of their beauty. I speak poems to the sunrise just so I can watch them fall.

I pick out the purest ones from the pile, leaving behind the very small and very large, the ones that are more difficult to use as payment. I brush the rest into the stream, hoping the current will carry them on adventures. Perhaps they’ll be a windfall to a widow in need. A surprise catch for a fisherman. The prize a prince needs to win the heart of his true love.

I put the rest into my pocket, preparing for another day of silence. Which village shall I travel to today? My legend has spread to most of the countryside. Most believe me an eccentric princess. Others accuse me of thievery. I stay where people will accept me and not question my muteness or my money too closely. I’ve paid for nights at an inn with an emerald that could buy a lord’s palace. I buy dresses with pure pink rubies, groceries with chips of diamonds. Most people can’t fathom the value of the gems I give them, but people are starting to suspect, and I’ve become more wary of strangers.

Perhaps it’s time to settle down. Speak myself a fortune that will buy me an estate and servants. Walls to hide behind and people to protect me. For a price, of course.

It’s a cold, uncomforting thought. Would I really be safe among people whose loyalty was bought by my jewels?

The sky darkens with my mood as I travel along the forest path. Is this the best I can hope for? A wandering, lonely life with only as much security as money can buy?

My tears fall with the first raindrops. The cold rain drips down the neck of my gown. Chills run up my spine. I remember the cottage of my childhood. The snug roof. The warm kitchen fire. So long as I avoided Mother’s wrath, it wasn’t a bad life. At least I had a place. A purpose. Sometimes I find myself longing for a hearth to clean or a kettle to scrub.

When thunder rumbles, I remember the cellar. The slam of the door blocking out all light. Long, cold nights with bruises forming on my arms and legs. Mother’s red face as she slapped me that last day. Olive’s snakes winding along the floor.

The memories are too much, and I curl up beneath a tree to weep. I have no past that isn’t tainted by pain. No future that isn’t fraught with fear. I have only myself, and she’s a pitiful comfort in this rain-filled forest. The fairy called me beautiful and good. What use is either to a girl forever alone?

A voice from above, warm and deep, cuts through the cold rain. “Are you hurt?” 

I look up to see a young man on a horse. His clothes are finer than my ruby-bought dress, though he’s rain-soaked and roughened with forest dirt. He carries a gun, and three red and white spaniels stand beside his horse, but he’s no huntsman. I cannot mistake the ring on his hand.

Curled up as I am, I require only the slightest shift to fall prostrate. “Your highness,” I say. Two amethysts fall, hidden beneath my down-turned face.

I hear him jump from his horse. His footsteps are soft in the damp earth and stop mere inches from my ear. “Are you hurt?” he asks again, voice full of concern.

I shake my head in denial.

“Then there’s no sense laying in the mud,” he says. He offers a hand and helps me to my feet. He examines my mud-stained silk dress, my rain-soaked hair, the pack over my shoulder. He meets my eyes and says softly, “You’ve been crying.”

I nod and wipe away a tear, or perhaps a raindrop.

“Why?”

I cannot refuse a question from my prince. After months of silence, it almost feels good to have the choice taken from me. I give him the simplest explanation I can. “My mother has driven me from my home.”

Two roses, a lily, three sapphires, and an emerald the size of a blackberry fall into the mud. The prince watches them fall in astonishment. He picks up the lily, running a reverent finger along a pure white petal. He looks at me. His eyes are like a child’s, wide and innocent and bluer than the sapphires at my feet.

“Why?” he asks again, the question barely more than a whisper.

I don’t know if he’s asking why the flowers fell or why my mother cast me out. Since both questions have the same answer, I tell him my story, beginning with the old woman at the well and ending with my flight from the snake-infested house. Gems and flowers pile at my feet, one for every word I speak--diamonds and daisies, pearls and pansies, rubies and roses. When I finish the story, he takes in the bounty through eyes as wide as dinner plates.

The prince closes his eyes and shakes his head like a man snapping free from the effects of a spell. Then he gives me a sympathetic gaze. “You’ve been alone ever since?”

The sorrow in his voice steals my breath. I haven’t heard such sympathy since my father died. My mother certainly had no concern for my emotions.

Struck speechless, I can only nod.

“Here in the woods?”

I shake my head. “I’ve stayed in inns. Traveled town to town.”

Four more flowers. Four more gems. He watches them in wonder.

“With a fortune falling from your lips?”

“I never speak around people.” I catch five pearls and put them with the bounty in my pocket.

He notices the action and his eyebrows rise. “Yet you carry gems with you. It’s a wonder you haven’t been robbed.”

I can only nod in agreement. Nobles with far less wealth than I have been waylaid on these roads. Now that my story is spreading, I’m not sure how long I can safely travel alone.

He holds out a hand. “Come home with me,” he urges.

I step beneath the sheltering trees, shaking my head. “I don’t know you, sir.” Four carnations and one perfect diamond disappear into the undergrowth.

He sweeps into a courtly bow. “His Royal Highness, Prince Simon Everill.”

Propriety demands I curtsy in return, but I do not speak.

Softly, the prince says, “It’s not in my nature to abandon young women in the woods to fend for themselves. The castle often takes in travelers. You can stay for as long as you like.”

I’m not sure if it’s me he’s inviting or the pile of gems at my feet. But what other option do I have? Miles of walking in the rain, to a town I’m not certain will accept pearls as payment? Days upon days of looking over my shoulder and waiting for highwaymen to find me? This prince, stranger though he is, may be my best chance for safety.

I dip a deeper curtsy. “Thank you, sir.” I catch the three seed-sized diamonds that fall and place them into his palm.

He brushes them away. “No payment,” he says. “Not for hospitality.”

But for other things, perhaps? What plans does he have for my future?

He helps me onto his horse, then mounts behind me. What is your name, my lady?” He asks.

“Agnes,” I say. The word drops to the ground as a flawless ruby.

#

Simon and I sit on the hillside, the castle wall a comforting guardian behind us. We laugh as a spaniel chases away a flock of sparrows. Another spaniel, less zealous in our protection, sits with her curly-eared head in my lap. I run my fingers through her fur and feel a warm thrill in my chest. I have food, clothes, comfort, companionship. I have never been so rich, and it has little to do with the store of gems beneath my mattress. 

Simon has kept my secret during these weeks. At least he says he has. I’ve gotten strange stares from the servants lately, like they don’t know what to make of me, and during a few sleepless nights I’ve wondered if the story I told Simon has been making the rounds. It’s more likely that they wonder about my extended stay, but I can't quite silence the doubts. 

Simon tells me a story of his last visit to the River Kingdom, and I pepper him with questions. When we are alone, I don’t guard my tongue. My words blow away as buttercups on the breeze, and we let pearls scatter on the hillside like seeds for the sparrows. Even if someone were watching from a distance, I doubt they could make out the miracle among the waving grasses. 

When Simon’s story is done, I am breathless with laughter. I’ve never met anyone as gifted with words as he is--high praise from the girl whose voice creates jewels.

Simon smiles at me as I wipe tears of mirth from my eyes. “Agnes,” he says, “You are the most charming girl I’ve ever met.”

“Because I laugh at your stories?” I ask, my tone teasing. Daisies dance away from us.

He takes my hands between his. “Because you’re beautiful, and kind, and gentle and generous and you have more patience than I could show in ten lifetimes.”

The praise surprises me. I’ve long known I’m pretty--I do have a mirror--but I’ve never received compliments on my personality. Mother and Olive made it clear that I was a weak, stupid, spineless thing, and given how long it took me to escape their clutches, I’ve never had reason to disagree.

I feel a blush burning on my cheeks. “You don’t need to flatter me.” The words fall as dull, uncut shards of brown topaz.

“Agnes.” His eyes burn like sapphires in the sun, his voice desperate as a man reaching for a lifeline at sea. “I hadn’t known you three hours before I knew there was no woman in the world who could compare to you. Please, marry me.”

He pulls a golden ring out of his pocket. Within it sits the perfectly-cut ruby that fell when I first told him my name.

I pull away, heart racing. I wonder if it’s possible for my eyeballs to fall out of their sockets from behind my too-open lids. “Simon,” I gasp. His name is a diamond that blinds me with its brilliance. “I can’t. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

The whole universe has been built upon such things being impossible. I can’t explain reality in a few simple words. I settle for saying, “I can’t marry a prince. I have no title. No family.”

“What does that matter? My father would never forbid it. The gift you have is worth more than any dowry.”

My heart hardens like the sapphire that I spit at his feet. My weeks of happiness here fade away like the childish dream they were. This has been his plan from the beginning. The invitation, the conversations, even his silly little story as we played with the spaniels. All given in hope that I would let my guard down and let him claim every word I speak for the rest of my life.

The ruby in his hands now gleams like a drop of blood from my beating heart. He had gone back to retrieve it, without a word to me. Has he hoarded all the other gems I’ve dropped during our conversations? Have I ever seen the real Simon? Or has this all been an act to get me to the altar? I think of Mother in a million moments of my childhood. After her worst outbursts of temper, she would sigh and beg forgiveness, saying such sweet things that I rushed to her open arms, desperate for long-withheld affection. The moment I came within her reach, she would hit me so hard that my ears rang. I am suddenly certain that Simon’s real face will emerge the moment we marry. I will be his precious trained pet, speaking only to fill his coffers.

I would rather live in Mother’s house again. And I would rather die than do either.

I leap to my feet, gathering my skirts.

“Agnes!” Simon leaps up, alarmed.

I back away from his outstretched hand, tears flying. “No!” I gasp. The word is a dead daffodil. “No, never!”  The last word is an opal, and I fling it at his chest. Then I clamp my lips shut. I will give him no more of my treasures.

I race down the open hillside. Though Simon is taller, he cannot catch me. Years of living in terror have given me speed. The spaniels race after me, barking in alarm, but I soon outpace even them.

I disappear into the forest, trailing silent, worthless tears.

#

It’s an apple blossom morning. My orchard is full of the fragrant blooms, branches weighed down with millions of pale pink and cream flowers. Matching blossoms fall from my lips as I speak my morning prayers. The flowers land lightly on the rain-dampened earth, a carpet of silk for the would-be queen.

I haven’t seen Simon since last summer, and I’m glad of it. I’m proud of the life I’ve built outside of his palace prison. I spent the first weeks in terror, certain he would send soldiers to scour the country and bring me back to the palace in chains. When my first whispers of courage appeared, I traveled on foot to a northern city, one large enough to hold several jewelers. I sold off a month’s worth of words for a small fortune. I bought a modest house on the outskirts where the city kissed the open countryside. I hired servants from agencies, then replaced them until I found people I believed I could trust. My housekeeper has a moral spine of steel. I speak freely in her presence, and she does nothing more than lift a disapproving eyebrow toward the gems that cover her clean floor. She believes my habit to be extravagance bordering on indecency. My butler is a sweet old man, half-blind and half-deaf. I don’t believe he notices my flowers or gems. I sometimes slip him one as a present, spinning some tale of a grandmother’s jewels that I’m giving away.

The garden I care for myself. I’ve planted some of my word-flowers as cuttings, and I hope they will grow. I think the roses have the best chance of taking root. I spend hours out here whenever the weather’s warm, letting the silence and sunshine and blessed hard labor wash every thought and emotion from me. It is only on mornings like this that I let myself feel anything at all.

Something rustles the tree behind me. In the corner of my eye, I see a million apple blossoms rain down. I turn, expecting to see a bird or a particularly heavy squirrel.

It’s Simon. He stands beneath my apple tree in all his palace finery. He is still pale from the winter, but his eyes are bright as ever. He bends at the waist, an apologetic bow. “Your housekeeper let me in.”

Of course she did. Greta can’t refuse entry to a prince. I’m reminded again of how powerless I am before him.

I stand in silence, waiting for the renewal of last summer’s offer. I steel myself in advance against his declarations of love, his flimsy praises of my person, the lies upon lies upon lies he will spin to snare my heart in his web. I scan for movement along the garden walls. Has he brought servants? Soldiers? If he has, there’s nothing I can do, but I won’t give him victory by showing him how frightened I am.

He doesn’t speak. He barely moves. He could be a new statue I bought for the garden. Finally, he asks, “Are you well?”

I nod.

“It’s a lovely house,” he says. “These trees are exquisite.”

Another nod.

Simon’s eyes stay on the blossoms. “The neighbors say you never have visitors.”

Of course I don’t. My gems can buy a house, but they make a social life impossible. How could I attend card parties and balls with diamonds falling with my every word? A mute heiress is a curiosity, but never a friend.

Simon runs a hand along a branch. A dozen petals fall. “Are you lonely?” he asks.

I am, but I hate him for asking. It makes me sound pitiful. I want to be alone. Loneliness is safe.

A falling tear betrays me. The eyes that can spot a partridge across a field watch it fall to the petal-strewn ground. “I thought so,” Simon murmurs. “That’s why I brought this.”

He reaches behind a tree and slides out a basket. Something inside rustles and whines. I step toward it, too curious for caution.

Simon lifts up a squirming puppy. Russet patches blaze on its white fur. I gasp and run my fingers through the silky curls of its ears. It’s so young and warm and alive. I gather it into my arms and let it lick the salt water from my face.

Puppies don’t care about dowries. Diamonds are nothing more than pretty stones for them to chase. They care about food and fresh air and the sheer joy of being alive. I could have no better companion.  

I bury my face in the puppy’s fur. “Thank you,” I breathe, crowning the puppy with apple blossoms.

Simon’s grin makes me think of a summer sky. “She’s fine hunting stock, and I think she’ll make an excellent guard dog someday.”

I don’t care about the future. She’s mine now, and I cry from the sheer joy of having a friend.

Two friends, a tiny voice in my mind insists. Even if this is only a ploy to capture my heart, it’s a very kind stratagem. “Thank you,” I say again.

Simon nods and gathers up his basket. “You can write me if you wish. Tell me how she’s doing.”

My heart shies away from the idea, from another strand that could tie me closer to the crown. But I know what Simon’s dogs mean to him. Refusal would be pointless cruelty. “I will,” I say.

The words fall as a perfect pink pearl. The puppy treats it as a toy.

#

Leaves fall in clumps of color, crimson and orange and gold. Lady wrestles with them while I read my letter; my dog knows better than to disturb me while I read on this bench. It overlooks the orchard and seems the only fitting place to read letters from Simon.

We’ve exchanged more than twenty in the past six months, starting with mere updates about Lady’s health, and slowly expanding to include tales of our days, stories of our childhoods, discussions of philosophy and our feelings about the world. It’s a relief to use as many words as I want without worrying about the flowers and jewels that fall, and I filled five whole pages, front and back, with crossed writing in my last letter. Simon’s reply is nearly as long and I devour every neatly scrawled word, delighting in the sentences that seem to carry the sound of his voice.

His stories are as engaging in writing as they are in person, and before I realize it, I’ve reached the last page. These words have not been crossed; only one set of neat sentences covers the half-sheet.

Darling Agnes, he writes. The endearment shocks me like a thorn among roses. My heart is more yours than it has ever been. I wish with everything I am that those diamonds would dissolve to dust, if it would help you believe that I love you despite your jewels. I repeat my offer from two summers past, and I hope you know me well enough to rightly judge my sincerity. I can only pray you will pity a foolish prince who has done nothing to deserve a wife so far superior to himself.

The pages of the letter fall like flakes of snow, and I tremble like the leaves that cling so precariously to the apple trees. The last months dissolve like a dream and I’m back on that hill outside the palace, back in the cellar with my blossoming bruises. Love is real, I know, but it is never given to me. Simon cannot be offering it, not truly. These months of friendship have been glorious, but a few heartfelt letters are not the same as agreeing to be a man’s wife, giving him my heart to treasure or cast off at will. He will cast it off, I know it. In a day or a week or ten years, it will be thrown into my face as a weapon, my heart aching all the more because I gave it so freely to someone who despised me.

I race into my writing room, pull out a paper, and dip a quill in the ink. My hand shakes violently, but it doesn’t matter. The page only needs one word.

No.

#

Snow covers the garden like diamond dust. The jewels I speak disappear into the drifts behind the house. I cast them out for Lady to chase, and my words of praise provide gems for the next game.

When Lady tires, we walk to the front garden. Two of my yellow roses took root last summer and have become tiny spindles of bushes. I brush the snow from their branches to keep them from being crushed. Dogs and roses--the only things I can safely love.

“Such kindness,” says a voice from outside the gate. I look up to see a gray-haired crone in a ragged cloak. She smiles with crooked teeth. “Do you have any for an old woman?”

I hurry to the gate, reaching under my cloak and pulling coins from my purse. I regularly exchange my jewels for coins now, and I always keep a supply for the poor. I place five of the largest in the beggar’s hands, enough for a month of meals and a comfortable room.

The woman gives it a satisfied smile. “Bless you.” She tucks the coins into her glove. “You’re seen as something of a ministering angel among our kind, lady,” she says. “Beautiful and kind and as mysterious as the holy mountain.”

I laugh. I’ve gotten better at holding back my jewels when I need to, so I feel safe saying, “I’ve been very blessed.”

"Then why are you so sad?” the woman asks.

Her gray eyes pierce me, making it seem pointless to hide my secrets. I give her the least dangerous part of the truth. “I have no family.”

“Girls with that problem usually try make one of their own. A lady like you must have a hundred beaus to pick from.” 

I pretend to cough into my hand, and I slide eight tourmalines into my purse. “Only one,” I say.

“And what a one,” the woman says, leaning over a fence as if to share a secret. “The prince himself pining away for you in that great palace.”

I gasp and forget to stop the daisies from falling. “How did you...?”

“Half the town knows about the royal seals on those letters,” the woman says, “and knows the postman hasn’t seen one for four months, about the same time that the prince stopped attending social functions.”

My blush burns so hot that the beggar could warm her hands by it.

The woman places a comforting hand over my trembling one on the rail of the fence. “You’re being very unkind to that poor boy. Do you think you’re the only one in the world with a good heart?”

It’s like she sees into my soul, and I suddenly remember a gap-toothed woman by a faraway well who knew my history just by looking at me. This woman is shorter and darker-skinned, but those gray eyes hold similar secrets.

So I speak to her like I’ve spoken to no one else--pitiful, pathetic words. I sound like a frightened child as I reply, “It’s the only heart I can be sure is good.”

“Nonsense. Ain’t you talked to him? Seen him? What has he said, promised, done? Has he ever been cruel? Angry? Wicked?”

No, no, and no. He gave me shelter, friendship, love. He let me run away from him. He brought me Lady. If he wanted my jewels he could have sent a hundred men to drag me back to his palace in chains, but aside from the ruby for my ring, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him touch one of my precious words. The only monstrous things he’s done have been inventions of my own terrified imagination.

But my imagination won’t give up so easily. “He could be one day.”

“So could you,” the woman counters.

“I couldn’t throw him in the dungeon.”

The woman closes her eyes and sighs. “Love is a risk. Trust is a great gift. Will you hoard it all for yourself or find the courage to give it away?”

I let out my breath in one long, weary sigh. “I don’t know if I can,” I say. The first words are daisies and chips of diamonds. The last one falls as a perfect ruby in my gloved hand.

The woman presses both her hands around the hand with the ruby. When she pulls them away, the jewel is set in a ring of pure gold.

“Try,” she says.

#

Simon steps into my writing room, looking disheveled and a little bewildered. He brushes snowflakes out of his hair and steps toward my desk. He holds up a hastily scrawled letter. “You called?”

I step toward him and place the ruby ring in his outstretched hand. “I would like,” I say, the words creating a bouquet of roses in my arms, “to make a proposal.”

#

Simon and I kneel before the priest. The pearls from a thousand grateful prayers are draped in long chains across our shoulders and arms. Simon is radiant, a million silent words speaking of his love. He makes his vows with unhesitating enthusiasm, then the priest places the same questions to me, asking me to take Simon as my husband, whatever may come, to the very end of our days.

“I do,” I say.

The sapphires that fall from beneath my veil gleam like tears of joy.

[writer-k-pop]

Train Rides

낮잠은 어땠어? How was your nap?

Description: What is hoped to be a quiet train ride down to your grandparents’ is interrupted by a loud business trip with an intriguing conversation with a business man who’s apart of the group that’s creating chaos in the train car. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff, Non-idol!Minghao x Fem!Reader ft. Non-idol!Seventeen Word Count: 3k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

My duffle bag bounced against my hip as I did a weird jog shuffle down the train platform in search of the train car where my seat was. Almost missing my train was what I got for spending a few extra minutes in the shower. My aunt would've killed me if I missed this train because I was bringing the most important stuff for my grandparents' anniversary.

"Finally." I exhaled as I finally found my assigned train car: number 8.

Pulling myself into the train car, I focused on calming my rapidly beating heart. I opened the door separating the seats from the space between train cars and my ears were immediately bombarded with lively chatter.

I looked up to find a large cluster of seats were taken up by a group of males. They were the ones creating the chatter. And it didn't help that they were all clustered around the middle of the train.

Internally, I groaned because I honestly hoped to get some more sleep on this train ride before I had to deal with my very loud, very obnoxious family. But that plan jumped out the window. But then, my heart dropped even further.

My seat was somehow in the smack dab middle of their cluster.

I cursed my need for a little extra leg room and a window seat as I trudged down the aisle with my duffle bag gripped in my hands. The conversations didn't quiet down as I approached, nor did they stop when I reached the middle of the train car where the backwards facing seats met the forward facing cars with a table in the center.

Sitting across from my seat were two males, one with blonde hair and the other with black hair. Both had rounder faces but they were in no way pudgy. In the seat right next to mine was another black haired male but he had a slimmer face and honestly, a slimmer physique in general. He had sharp facial features, a pair of round glasses sat on his nose and his entire focus was on the notebook supported by one hand while the other flew across the page with a pencil in its grasp.

The two from across noticed me stop and stared for a couple seconds as I struggled to get my ridiculously heavy duffle bag up into the overhead storage.

"Here. Let me help you with that." A light voice offered from behind me and a pair of hands helped me push the duffle into place.

"Thank you." I turned around to properly thank him and I was met with an almost angelic face that matched the voice almost perfectly. He had red hair and angled features but he somehow made it all work well together.

They were all seriously good looking and I was suddenly very thankful I spent those few extra minutes in the shower.

"No problem." The red head smiled and my involuntarily fluttered, "Do you have the seat next to Minghao?" He asked, nodding towards the male who was still engrossed in his little notebook.

"I guess." I told him with a small smile and then I heard the faint ringing throughout the platform telling everyone we were about to depart.

As the train car doors closed shut, one of the males across from my seat must've kicked the male sitting next to me because his eyes shot up with a glare that would've made even the toughest guys back down. But after a quick nod in my direction, the one in the seat next to mine directed his attention to me and I swore I saw his eyes widen ever so slightly. As quickly as he shot his head up, he scrambled out of his seat to let me into my seat.

"Thank you." I said quietly as slid into my seat just as the train began to move.

"No problem." The male next to me said and slid back into his seat. I could feel his gaze on me for a few more seconds before he reburied his head into his notebook.

I pulled out my book and headphones from my backpack before setting it down next to my legs. The conversations around me began to pick up again and I decided I could try to ignore them with some music.

But... just as the train left the station behind...

"So where are you headed?" The blonde male directly across from me asked just as I plugged in my headphones.

I blinked, for some reason unsure why he would be talking to me. "Uh, I'm headed down to Jinju." I answer him slowly.

"Oh, no way." The blonde smiled widely, "We are too."

"Oh, that's cool." I commented, unsure of how to actually respond.

"Yeah, we have a few important business things to do there." He explained though I didn't exactly ask for one. The slight awkwardness that creeped into the atmosphere almost made me want to laugh.

"Important." The black haired male next to the blonde repeated with air quotes and a large eye roll.

"Ignore him." The blonde informed me while pushing the black haired one in the shoulder. "I'm Seungkwan, by the way."

"(y/n)." I introduced me since it was the only thing I could do.

"Soonyoung." The black haired one raised a hand, all traces of his annoyance from earlier completely gone.

"Hi." I smiled, playing with an earbud wondering if they were going to talk to me the entire trip.

"So, are you just visiting Jinju?" Seungkwan continued his round of questions.

"Yeah," I answered, realizing that they were indeed probably going to talk to me the entire way there, "My grandparents live there and I'm visiting them."

"Oh, that's so sweet." Seungkwan cooed.

"I wish I was visiting my grandparents." Soonyoung grumbled, his annoyance returning.

"Soonyoung, I swear to god, if I hear another grievance from you, I'm going to make you participate in the panel next week." Another black haired male from across the aisle narrowed his eyes at Soonyoung.

"Oh god, not the financial panel." Soonyoung's face dropped so fast that I barely had time to hold back a laugh.

Seungkwan caught me and leaned in closer, "Don't worry, we all think he's nuts."

"Not as nuts as Jun." A voice piped up from behind me. The male looked by far the youngest and he was pointing diagonally across the aisle at a bucket hat wearing male with sharp catlike features.

As the others started to banter about who was more nuts, I glanced over at the notebook of my glasses wearing seat mate. On the page was a crude drawing of a character of some sorts and I couldn't help but be captivated by it. It wasn't anything super fantastical or extraordinary but every part held a story and I wanted to decipher all the parts. The way the body was positioned gave the impression of a welcoming and comforting personality but the face had the emotions of hidden stresses and thoughts.

The owner of the notebook cleared his throat slightly and I was caught red handed.

"Sorry." I apologized and felt a blush creep into my cheeks.

"It's okay." He accepted my apology but the embarrassment was still drowning me.

"It's a really interesting drawing." I complimented him and then mentally face palmed at the genericness of it.

The male glanced down at the drawing and then back up at me, "You think?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's why I was staring. I was trying to figure out the pieces of the story it holds." I explained, trying not to look away from his intense curious gaze.

"Huh." He commented, slightly impressed for some reason, "These idiots never looked at one of my drawings for more than ten seconds." He gestured to the still bantering males around us.

I chuckled, "Well, they can't be complete idiots considering you're all attending business meetings together." I told him and he tilted his head to the side, considering my point.

"Fair." He said and then paused, thinking, before adding, "Then they're idiots of the art world."

"That sounds a little better." I said with another laugh bubbling in my chest, "So, do you draw often?"

He shrugged, "Kind of. I do it whenever I feel like I need to let off steam or if I'm bored."

"Which one was it today?" I asked then wondered if that was borderline too personal.

"Boredom." He answered, nonchalantly, and added a few more pencil strokes to the shadows of his character.

"Train rides not your favorite?" I guessed with a questioning eyebrow.

"Not really." He responded, "I'm more of a car ride kind of guy. But the train was the fastest option for us, so here we are."

"You like driving through Seoul?" I questioned with slight shock because Seoul was a city where every hour was rush hour and every car was trying to make it to their destination in record time.

He chuckled in disgust, "Oh god no. I hate driving in the city. Makes me want to pull out all of my hair." He joked and a smile grew on my face. "But give me a long drive through the country, an AUX cord, and a few snacks and I'm all set to go for hours."

"You would go alone?" I asked.

He leaned in close so the others wouldn't hear him but my heart skipped a few beats. "These guys are idiots of the art world, remember?" He reminded me with a small playful smile.

"Right. I guess music counts as an art form." I stated, hoping he couldn't see my nervousness. He straightened back up and a tiny part of me was extremely disappointed.

"Exactly." He agreed, "Though Mingyu's not a bad companion, if I want one." He pointed across the aisle and a row back at a green haired giant.

My eyes widened at his hair color and I had to ask, "Why is his hair green?"

"He lost a bet." He informed me, a smile touched his face with the memory and he looked even cuter when he smiled.

"Poor dude." I exhaled glancing back at the green haired male as he laughed at something the guy next to him said.

"Eh, he actually suggested the punishment himself so..." The male next to me trailed off with a shrug.

"So, what's your name?" I asked suddenly, realizing I knew a few of the others' names but not once did I get to ask him his.

"Minghao." He stuck out a hand and I grabbed with a surprised smile.

"(y/n)." I reciprocated the greeting and pray he can't feel my racing pulse through my skin.

""And you're visiting family in Jinju." Minghao repeated what I told Seungkwan earlier and my lips pucker in surprise. He chuckled and pulled his hand away. "My ears still pay attention even if my eyes aren't."

"I can't do that." I said, resting my hands in my lap, "Multitasking like that is not my forte."

"Gotta focus on one or the other?" He asked and I nodded my head.

"If my eyes are focused on like my book," I rested my hand on the cover, "Or something, my ears tune out everything so I don't miss a single word."

"Is that what the headphones are for?" Minghao asked nodding towards my phone with the still plugged in headphones.

"Yeah, kind of." I answered and twirled the wire around my finger, "It's easier to tune out familiar sounds than new ones."

"Any particular sounds?" He inquired and set down his closed notebook on the table.

"Music, particularly." I told him and tried to ignore the giddy thoughts that screamed that he enjoyed talking to me. I also peeked at his hands and noticed he wasn't wearing any rings. Which could've have been a big indicator that he wasn't in a relationship with anyone considering every couple seemed to have couple rings here.

He gave me a wide smile and the action softened his facial features so much. "Any particular artists?" He reiterated his question using the same word we had been repeating.

"Jason Miraz is one of my favorites." I informed him.

"Oh, I love Jason Miraz." He said with bright eyes, "His style is just so cool and he makes great songs."

"His style is really, really cool." I agreed. "Have you heard his new album?"

"Did that come out already?" Minghao asked with widened eyes.

I nodded, "This morning."

"Oh dang, I didn't even know it was coming out this soon." He said and scratched the back of his neck.

I reached for my headphones and handed one to him, "You want to listen with me? I haven't made it through the whole thing yet either. Just the first couple."

Minghao cautiously grabbed the earbud out of my hand, "You're sure?" He questioned me.

"About sharing headphones?" I answered with another question, "It's fine." I gave him a reassuring smile and it seemed to relax him a bit.

I popped my earbud in my ear and then scrolled through my phone to find the playlist. Adjusting the volume so it wouldn't blow out our eardrums, I started the album from the top.

"How's the volume?" I glanced over at Minghao after settling the volume at a level I thought was comfortable.

"Good, good." He responded, still a little stiff.

Turning my head towards the window, I let the calm melodies and voice of Jason Miraz accompany the green country scenery that quickly passed by. Pretty soon, my eye lids began to grow heavy and my morning rush started to catch up with me. Before I knew it, I was nodding off with my head leaned back against the weird velvety seat. Jason Miraz's soft voice carried me further into sleep land.

Just before the haze of exhaustion turned into a dark abyss, I felt a hand lower my head until it met the hard curve of a shoulder.

I woke up to someone calling my name and it wasn't Jason Miraz's voice. Blinking my eyes open, I was still on the train and the country side was still passing by very quickly. My head was still pressed against a shoulder and then it hit me just who's shoulder I was leaning on. [Though you know Soonyoung was not going to let Minghao live down how sweet the action was.]

"We're like 5 minutes from Jinju station." Minghao's voice informed me and I sat up, trying not to be too sudden about it.

Running a hand through my hair, I checked my phone and the time coincides with the information given to me.

"I can't believe I slept through the entire ride." I chuckled at myself, still in shock.

"I'm surprised you slept through Seokmin and Soonyoung's screaming." Minghao laughed lightly and handed me the other half of my headphones.

I gathered the wire and picked up my backpack to shove them and my book back into it.

"Ugh, we didn't even get to talk about the album." I pouted, annoyed at myself for sleeping.

He giggled and it added itself to list of things I found cute.

"How about this?" He suggested, "We exchange numbers and we can discuss the album once you actually listened to it."

I puckered my lips in thought because dude just called me out for falling asleep in the middle of tiny listening party for a new album. But, the little jab did nothing against the desire to keep in touch with him. So, I unlocked my phone and handed it over with the contacts app opened.

"Deal." I agreed to his suggestion and he took my phone before quickly typing in his information.

"How was your nap?" Seungkwan asked, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward.

"It was unexpected and long." I answered him, zipping up my backpack.

"But was it at least good?" He questioned further and Minghao handed back my phone.

"I'd say it was pretty good." I told him and he smiled, content with my answer.

The train pulled into the station, which was the last on its route, and we all shuffled out of our seats. I reached up to the overhead storage for my still ridiculously heavy duffle bag but Minghao grabbed it before I could even touch it. Pulling it down, he held it out for me to take.

"Thank you." I thanked him with a smile that I hoped would cover up the toll that the bag's weight took on my body, specifically my arms.

"No problem." He nodded with a small smile.

The other guys let me walk off the train first and I didn't get a chance to look back or wait for them because my aunt was waiting on the platform for me.

"(y/n)!" She yelled and ran towards me. "Glad you made it! Oh! We have so many dishes to prepare. Come on, your mom's busy chopping up vegetables and claims she needs her sous chef ASAP." My aunt took the bag from me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before leading me away.

I tried to look back for one last glance at the male who let me sleep on his shoulder but my aunt demanded all of my attention.

"Did you remember to bring all the stuff we asked?" She questioned me.

"Yes, auntie." I replied, "I even remembered the Christmas ornament, though it took me forever to find."

"Oh, you're amazing!" She squeezed my shoulder and we walked out of the station and towards her car.

As we made our way down the stairs, my phone rang with a text.

I pulled it out and a laugh bubbled inside my chest as I read the message from Minghao.

"I don't think Jason Miraz can save you from that conversation."