#only to end up completely obsessed with them :3c

[nekrosmos]

QUESTION TIME what moment in the game made you go "Okay. I officially love Captain Price" what caught your eye about him? Or NikPrice and Nikolai in general. Looovee ur art btw <3333

Thank you for the ask anon, I'm glad you like my silly little art <33

It honestly took me a while to warm up to Price ! I played MW2 first and liked him, especially his relationship with Gaz, but didn't connect with him right away. Then I played MW19 and okay, I started warming up to him, especially with the scenes like the one where he tells the marines that if they don't shut up he's gonna make them go to the front or something like that, I was like OH ?

I thought he was handsome and liked his leader role and his stupid fucking hat and all, but I just wasn't obsessed with him YET.

Same for NikPrice, I would see fanarts here and there and thought "now that's a good ship" but didn't push the thought further, until last October, when I read a short NikPrice thread on twitter, and idk, it immediately lit up my obsession with Price, Nik, and NikPrice.

Then I found Rawr's fics here and the rest is history 👍​

Also fun thing: When MW3 released last year, there were many, MANY posters for it around my work commute, but at the time I had only passing knowledge of CoD, basically only knew about Ghost, which lead to me sending this message to my friend on discord

"Mustache guy" being Price.

And now I'm obsessed with him 👍​We've come a long way

[athycore]

Hello!!! :3 I wish to make a request! I really love your writing style and the way you carry out your fics, theyre so awesome X3!!!☆

Could I make a req of Mob (/Shigeo Kageyama) with a gn!gyaru!reader :3c? Extra points if they do really good in school!

I see that you havent posted in a while on this blog, so you dont have to respond to my req! Please take care of yourself first out of anything else ^^<3

Thank youuuuuu!!!!! X3

-[Anonymous].

OMG HAIIII!!! Thank you so much, about me not posting in a while, i completely forget im a writer so i never end up checking requests, but now i did!!

Anyways heres ur food :3

Mob w a Gyaru!reader…(gn reader)

To say mob was obsessed is an understatement. He simply fawns over your fashion and loves the idea of going against the beauty standard. Although because of his fashionable s/o, he has a hard time blending in. At times he doesnt want the attention but his albsolute cutie of his lover being the center of attention, mob wouldnt mind just this once.

You both go to clothing shops together! Mob believes and trusts your fashion taste to be able to pick a few for him. He wants to hang out and uses the idea of shopping together to get you talking. He enjoys it. Afterall he somewhat helps with some of the clothes for you to pick out, while you help him look his best. He adores your keen eye on managing to find the good clothes that are usually hidden..(gatekeepers😒😒)

When you go on dates he swears he can pay, but his pay isnt enough..afterall regien isnt too reliable. Instead you pay, hope you dont mind. After you both end up going to the park or going to each others houses to hang out later. Mob gaslights(begs) reigen to let him off early for these dates too. He wants to show his respect by simply making time for you like any wonderful lover.

Mob and his family aprove of you so much! You are just the sweetest and the cutest girls to ever approach mob. Ritsu thinks its rad that his older brother managed to get a parnther in general, but thinks even more highly of you when he knows and sees your genuine care for his brother. Plus when you go to mobs house to hangout, ritsu joins whenever he feels lonely. You and mob welcome him with open arms, especially when watching a horror movie.

Mob uses his psychic powers to try to find out what you like in order for him to get the RIGHT gift. Hes just whipped and his friends and brother tease him for it. Simple middle schoolers am i right? He doesnt mind it though.

He introduces you to reigen and reigen approves. Reigen sees you as fit, and an adorable girl who would help mob by the long mile. Mob also introduced you to teru and sho, as well as the other psychics. They all like you and think you are so cool with your makeup and fashion. Heck, teru asked for some advice too.

Mob gets you both matching keychains..guaranteed. Like those cute sanrio ones or the cute little characters. He finds them absolutely adorable. The idea that his s/o has the other half, he ends up staring at his keychain on end till his club snaps him outta it.

In school you might as well be a prodigy! He finds the fact that you do so well extremely admirable. He wants to be tutored by you and you only. Only you can be patient with him. He thinks of you as top of his class, grade, school even!( next to ritsu ) He just gets so happy seeing you not having to worry about grades and what not.

There are times when you are doing makeup, he just watches. No conversation, nothing. Soly because he thinks its skillful, he feels as tho its art and that she shouldn’t interfere. But there are times he asks questions about the products your using. Hes just curious about all that stuff.

Hes your #1 supporter! He believes that you should and will do what YOU want. That no one should tell you anything about how to look, act, or present yourself!

Hope you liked it!!! Thanks so much for the request!!!

[incesthemes]

HELLO! I have to know, what did you think of Madhouse at the End of the Earth??? What were your favorite parts?? :3c pls share your thoughts

OMG THANK YOU i will say i have literally not stopped thinking about this book since i finished it early last week. i have a normal amount of sticky notes marking my favorite quotes/events and other notable moments.

(pictured: exactly 120 sticky notes.)

literally i don't even know how to move on from this book, it made me so insane. i NEED to do horrible and illegal sex acts to adrien de gerlache. there isn't enough de gerlache rpf to satisfy my desire to see him stepped on. he's so utterly pathetic and useless and stupid. no redeeming qualities whatsoever. just a soggy idiot who gets them stuck in the pack on purpose and then has the audacity to regret it. like how do you get any better than this. i cannot believe this man was real and actually existed in the same world i live in today. what the hell man.

anyway. favorite parts are probably. de gerlache and lecointe getting the belgica stuck in the pack on purpose was like, an unparalleled reading experience; i physically yelled out loud while reading it because i couldn't believe my eyes. but here's my full-ish list of every part i marked for being completely deranged:

lecointe SLEEPING on the tonite to thaw them out. literally what an insane man. ok girl (secondarily: lecointe thawing out the tonite by holding them close to the fire. GIRL)

that time cook and amundsen tore apart a seal and drank its blood directly from its veins while tollefsen watched in horror

every single time sancton described cook's nose (the "peninsula" comment got me bad)

"strangely enough the thing in sir john's narrative that appealed to me most strongly was the sufferings he and his men endured," amundsen wrote. "a strange ambition burned within me to endure those same sufferings."

and by god he did. even if he had to force the issue (the iceberg plan is a particular fave)

everything about the penguins, from de gerlache's petulant, childish refusal to eat them because he was salty the men didn't like the food he picked out, to amundsen's obsession with eating raw penguin meat, to the fact that they lured the penguins to the ship with van mirlo's godawful cornet playing

the time they caused a fire on tierra del fuego and had to go put it out, only to return to the ship to see it decorated for christmas. nothing says season's greetings like the minor destruction of someone else's land

they ran the ship aground. TWICE. before ever even making it to antarctica. TWO TIMES!!!!!!!!!!

cook and amundsen's first date climbing up a mountain and nearly plummeting to their certain deaths once each

de gerlache hosting a meeting about what to do when they were out of the ice, being pathetic about it, then begging lecointe to let him change the minutes so he'd sound cooler

DANCO'S BODY STANDING UPRIGHT AT HIS FUNERAL AS IF IT WERE POSSESSED

the fact that everyone hated michotte's cooking and yet no one bothered to even do anything about it. like what. if you hate it that bad make your own food cmon girls......

the unexplained random screaming that amundsen, cook, and koren heard but no one else did............. okay! #normalthings #sanitywin

cook going off the rails worshiping the sun. antarctica claims yet another victim (cook's sanity)

speaking of cook, the fact that the most likely theory for why everyone went insane was cyanide poisoning. from cook's photo developing solution. the DOCTOR did all this. it seriously doesn't get funnier than that

cook hanging penguin carcasses along the belgica's hull as they made to escape the pack. like imagine being in puntas arenas and seeing this ship no one is expecting come into port and everyone has these crazed eyes, some of them are screaming and in the throes of a full mental breakdown, and there's fucking penguin carcasses hanging off the ship like some kinda charms. the mental image alone sent me into hysterics i swear

and most importantly, the fact that all of this happened and they still managed to keep the ship. i think sir john, crozier, and shackleton (et al) are rolling in their graves over this expedition. most incompetent freakass men you know got to keep their ship and yours is at the bottom of the ocean. i can't even believe it.

on a serious note this was just genuinely a great book, it's written so well and in such a particular way; reading nonfiction has never been so fun—sancton made these cold boys sound like shounen anime characters, for real. it was awesome seeing the steps they took to ensure survival and the mistakes they made which undermined the expedition. there's a lot to learn from this expedition and a lot to admire about it, for what it was. it was also just an insane ride from beginning to end—everything went wrong, nearly every guy on that ship was in way over their head and completely wrong for the job, and they kept making the worst possible choices at every turn. the fact that they survived is a miracle and honestly i do think, even though cook was probably accidentally responsible for how crazy they got, he deserves a lot of praise for keeping the ship together and being so proactive in their survival. and never have two people matched each other's freak the way amundsen and cook did, oh my god. they're calling tollefsen the madman while yearning to plummet from an antarctic mountain or live on an iceberg. but sure tollefsen was sooooo crazy.

anyway sorry this is really long but holy shit this book made me so crazy. it's gonna take such a long time for me to get to a point where i can be normal about the belgica after reading this. holy shit man.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

ben i love your wip titles. so much. they're way more fun than mine hehe <3

please tell me what the hell is "xisuma oh my god what the hell man" i need to know.

also "hybrids are friends not food" yanks my attention :3c (because of course it does. you know me.)

pls share anything u want about these two!! 💕

(ask game)

god okay. okay. headinhands. this will take some explaining I fear.

cw: cannibalism, whatever it's called when a big sentient rock absorbs someone, mind manipulation?, hybrid discrimination

'xisuma oh my god what the hell man' is the sequel to 'grian oh my god what the hell man', also known as Love is the King of the Beasts (and when it gets hungry it must kill to eat) ALSO known as my fic where Grian get's eaten/absorbed by the Entity (does anyone else remember the entity? from the start of season 9???)

So. My Niche.

For those who haven't read it, Grian accidentally falls asleep inside the Entity and wakes up kind of entangled with it's flesh, starting to get absorbed / digested? into it. At first he panics, but then he's like 'oh this is kind of relaxing actually maybe I should just be cool about it'. He gets all mentally connected with the Entity and either it makes him think a certain way, or he's just naturally a bit of a freak and willing to become prey.

Mumbo finds him before the process is complete and sends him to respawn, then has to physically stop him from going straight back to the Entity, which calls out to him sadly. Mumbo says they need to make sure Grian would survive being eaten by a giant sentient rock before he tries it again. Grian begrudgingly agrees and the fic ends with them going to find Xisuma to give the Entity a scan.

Grian and the Entity remain mentally connected. It sends emotions through to him and he's obsessed with it. My freak.

This fic was going to basically follow Grian and Xisuma after Xisuma deems the Entity relatively safe. It is implied that Grian gets eaten by the Entity on the regular as a weird form of stress relief I guess? And Xisuma is curious and wants to try this out for himself.

As Grian is connected to the Entity, he can also sort of taste what the Entity tastes. So...

Here's a snippet from the only part I've actually written:

Strange, the sensation of something touching his skin. Usually so cold and protected, within his armour like an insect within a shell, nothing penetrating the hard metal.

Instead, here, the soft, warm surface of the Entity's insides tickled the ridge of his back. Scraped against his skin. Joined it, melted into it, and quite suddenly he couldn't pull away.

“It likes you.” Xisuma turned his head to see Grian, and barely caught him smoothly running his tongue over pointed teeth.

The avian stared with blown-out pupils. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You… taste good.” A warmth, perhaps pride, settled in Xisuma’s chest.

Grian continued, “sweet--like chorus fruit.”

Maybe it wasn’t pride. He gasped, vision blurring, as something heavy punctured through his spine and found its way between his ribs.

~~~~

'hybrids are friends not food TWO' is a spinoff of I Bite At The Hand That Feeds Me - my au where hybrids are not seen as people, and due to an international meat shortage, are basically rounded up and treated like cattle, farmed for their flesh.

This spinoff takes the story into a more minecraft-based world, rather than a 'realistic' one, with servers, hub worlds, and respawn mechanics. The similarity is that hybrids and non-humans are once again discriminated against and rounded up to serve as food, slaves, decoration, and pets.

There's a lot of lore to this one, as you are aware because we have discussed this au in a lot of detail together, but for everyone else, I'll break down a couple of basic concepts:

Hub worlds: a main, public server world used to move between different servers- can also be used as a home for players who have nowhere else to go. There are several of these, tending to be split up by language as well as distance.

Public servers: imagine the Hub is the centre of a web, and the public servers surround it! These servers are open to anyone (unless they are banned).

Bridge servers: servers settled somewhere between two or more Hub worlds- these tend to feature multiple languages or cultures, or they are heavily modded. Can be public or private.

Private servers: servers a little further out from the central Hub, which can only be accessed if you are invited or whitelisted.

Moderators: each Hub has an elected council of Moderators who are given ultimate power over how the Hub is run- they can (but are not expected to) also influence their Hub’s surrounding servers.

Respawn: players can respawn once killed. If they die on a Hardcore world, they are teleported back to their local Hub.

Permakill: a player can be permakilled (killed with no respawn) by a number of factors: 

Dying and respawning hundreds of times in a loop (starts to unravel and corrupt code after about 300 loops, becomes fatal after 500)

Being killed by a Moderator, powerful player, or some form of deity with the intention to permakill

Code decay: code is corrupted in some way, via a virus or an illness, slowly decaying into nothing

Old age: once a player reaches a certain age, their code begins to malfunction and unravel, eventually killing them

Age: players tend to spawn into existence at a certain age and stay that age until they die, unless they are born naturally in which case they will age up to a certain point and then cease to age- the wider playerbase is about 50/50. The average player can live up to 1000 years, but most are not that old, the older players tending to live in isolation or become Moderators.

And here's some History:

Once, humans and hybrids lived in harmony, all accepted as players and treated equally, never afraid of being harmed for their species.

Around 60 years ago, this changed, with new Moderators being brought into power who slowly shifted laws surrounding hybrid players while simultaneously releasing plenty of propaganda to human players about hybrids being inherently animalistic and lesser.

After a long decade of this treatment, combined with an unusual decrease in food resources on Hub worlds and public servers, the Moderators made a decision to rid themselves of hybrids once and for all.

This manifested in new laws stripping hybrids of their rights completely, and they were quickly rounded up in droves, forced into ‘farms’ which basically existed as slaughterhouses.

Many hybrids were permakilled, but an equal amount of the captured were kept to allow the farms to continue production. However, very few actively chose to have children (and due to the stressful environment, most couldn’t) so the farms went out in search of escapees.

Closed servers were broken into, public servers scraped clean of hybrids, and the definition of hybrid was expanded to include human/hybrid offspring as well as seemingly ‘inedible’ hybrids.

The human population was mostly content with the situation, though there have been/are protest groups and individuals who choose not to eat hybrids. Many prefer to hunt and farm for themselves when playing on survival worlds and private servers.

Hybrids caught by farms now tend to not be permakilled, instead killed with respawn over and over again to provide a limitless supplies of meat.

Hermitcraft is a closed and whitelisted server which is designed as a safe haven for hybrids looking to escape the farms. It accepts hybrids automatically, though upon entering they must be screened and every member must agree to them joining. Humans cannot enter without being invited. It is protected by incredibly strong code and firewalls, and is a thorn in the Moderators’ side. 

Hermitcraft’s portal is located a long distance from a Hub world, making it quite inaccessible to anyone who isn’t desperate.

Some hermits are human, but they are the most trusted server members, having proven themselves one way or another to be safe for hybrids to interact with.

The Moderators want to eliminate Hermitcraft for obvious reasons, and additionally because it has inspired several other hybrid-safe servers with similar protections.

OKAY, all that being said, I... don't have much to show for this one. The fic was going to potentially be a journal / admin's log written by Xisuma, but I didn't get past the first paragraph so...

here it is:

ADMIN’S LOG: XISUMA VOID

LOG 0006

It’s official. We’ve closed the server. Admin controls have been handed over and I’m not sure if I’ll ever see the others again. They’re going cross-hub to spread the word to hybrids. The ones who can’t go are staying here. I’ll make a list of who we have staying. These logs are confidential---if this ever gets out, I won’t forgive myself. But it won’t. It can’t.

...

Okay. I tried to make a list, and it backfired. Quite dramatically. Our numbers are so low now that it just looks kind of sad. How am I meant to carry the torch here? Why did they choose me??

I have to protect them now. I have no idea what I'm doing. This could all end so horribly, and the only thing between us and them is...

It's not even my code. How am I meant to repair it if it breaks?

I'm not cut out for this.

~~~~

ok that's literally it lol

[carbonatedcartoonist]

for the gravity falls ask game: 2, 14, 16, and 28 :3c

Hey sorry it took me so long to get to this!!!!

2-what’s your favorite episode?

I gotta go with a tale of two Stans. I know that’s a popular choice, but it was such a HUGE payoff from years of theorising about Stan’s twin brother. It was so cathartic to be proven right. And it also completely re contextualizas Stan’s entire character. The entire time you think that’s he’s just a run of the mill con man, money and self obsessive. But then ACTUALLY TURNS OUT he was a con man out of necessity for survival because he got KICKED OUT OF HIS HOUSE AT 17. And then he did it because he LOVES HIS BROTHER and he would do ANYTHING to get him back. It was never about the money. Like you rewatch the show after this episode and suddenly you see Stanley in a completely different light. I’ve never seen an episode do that to a character so effectively.

14- do you have any favorite artists/writers/creators in the fandom?

YES OH MY GOD. So gravity falls was my first ever serious fandom, so I practically worshipped the fan artists. I thought they were the coolest people alive. Standouts were @kiki-kit and @imaginashon. I loved their style so much because somehow it was the gravity falls style but even softer and rounder. I think I owe a lot of my beginnings in drawing to the two of them. I also loved @demico-art (they made excellent comics) and at @cherryviolets. I was always MESMERISED by cherry’s art. It’s so beautiful and spacey. I’m saying past tense because I’m remembering how much they influenced me when I was discovering fandom, but they do still make art now and I still love them all just as much!!

16- are you more of a dipper or more of a mabel?

I’ve been told by many of my friends that I am a mabel 100%. I’m loud, kind (at least I like to think so) and just a silly little guy! I also always kind of interpreted mabel as a bit self deprecating. I know the fandom likes to characterise dipper as the unsure and self deprecating type, where as mabel is more egotistical. But I didn’t see it that way. I always saw her loud and boisterous nature as compensating a little for the parts of her she didn’t like or was insecure about. I think it’s shown several times how she is a bit down on herself that she’s not as “smart” as dipper- such as in “Little Dipper” and “dungeons dungeons and more dungeons”. This resonated with me because I also had a very naturally gifted and intelligent brother, and I often felt lesser as a result. Also her not wanting to hurt gideons feelings even though he was OBVIOUSLY bad news realllyyyyy resonated with me. Letting people walk all over me in the name of “kindness” is. Yeah. I also kinda looked like her when I first got into GF- wore lots of sweaters, braces, long brown hair, etc.

28- share a headcanon you like/have been thinking about a lot!

Hmmmm head canon head canon. Well I do think a head canon I always liked (which the fandom is REALLY running with now to my absolute delight) was that ford and fiddleford had something going on. There wasn’t a lot of evidence at the time, mostly because we only see them briefly interact in the show (I think that the journals and book of bill give it a little more credibility) but I thought the fact that fiddleford dropped his entire life to go help ford with his project was…. Strange haha. Also ford being an outsider and shunned for his “strangeness”felt a little bit like it could be a gay allegory.

Sorry these ended up being so long!!!! I have so many thoughts!!!! Thanks for the questions.

[pestercide]

🦇 for DEVILWORSHIP !!!

🥀FOR OUIJA BONES

AND uhh im just gonna say 🌹for starsaviour even though you already said it was unhealthy i just. wanted to hear about it. /nf

🦇 : how did they meet? (Devilworship)

OMG thanks for askin this I've been wantin to talk about it for AGES!! (I was gonna save for a comic/story but I am a rambler at heart pff)

OKAY so they first met when Mortis joined the cult!! Bob had already been a member for a bit atp and they weren't super close at the time. So when news came out that Mortis had supposedly died shortly after leaving the cult Bob wasn't too devastated.

Fast forward a few years later (I'd say a good 10 or so years?) and they meet again. Though they didn't recognise each other as Bob was in his costume and Mortis had changed so drastically he looked like a completely different person (plus, again, it was presumed he died). They get into a violent altercation after Mortis mistakes Bob for a demon, try to kill each other, but when Mortis accidentally unmasks Bob it abruptly stops the whole thing and gives Mortis a chance to run.

Unfortunately, Mortis can't stop thinking about that night in the following days because he was paranoid that Bob had recognised him (he didn't) and would inform the cult that he was alive. So Mortis had one goal in mind, and that was to eradicate Bob. Little did Mortis know that Bob had a similar plan in mind as Mortis was now the only person in town that knew he was the man behind the devil mask and was ALSO paranoid about being reported to authorities.

They eventually meet again, intent on eradicating each other, but one scuffle later they realise they harbor each others darkest secrets. They agree to keep each others secret identities under wraps. Out of paranoia they end up staying relatively close to each other, inadvertently giving them time to get to know each other more. The rest is history :3c (also this was getting long oops)

🥀: favorite thing about your ship? (Ouijabones)

Imma be self-indulgent and say it's the fact it's my silly Moloch selfship qwq

BUT ALSO I love the fact they're so drastically different but get along due to their shared curiosities and need to learn to navigate certain things together (such as Grim navigating the weird 'curse' they have and Moloch learning to navigate the human world lol. They help each other out!!)

🌹: is their relationship healthy, or more unhealthy/complicated? (Starsaviour)

I'm glad to explain either way man!! I just wanted to specify they were unhealthy from the get-go since I didn't want people to think I was romanticising cultist x cult leader and treating it like a silly fun ship

But yeah it is extremely unhealthy. Dia has a one-sided obsession with Skid's Dad and reveres him as her saviour. She assumes he reciprocates her romantic feelings but he's just playing along as it makes it so much easier to manipulate her.

[bishipsaremyships]

asks about your weekly boss oc :3c

Mabe, my dearest beloved mutual, you have my heart

So. Okay. Vihaan. I’ve mentioned him a handful of times, I tag shit as him kinda often, but I’ve never, like, properly talked about him before on tumblr.

Vihaan is a student from the Sumeru Akademiya and he’s friends with 4GGRAVATE bc of course he is. He’s learning under the Spantamad Darshan with a lot of intersection into some Rtawahist studies. His thesis he’s trying to use from graduation is ‘how the Ley Lines affect the stars and vice versa’. He also accidentally joined a rebellion against the Tsaritsa at one point thanks to my qpp. It’s a whole… Whole ass thing.

But.

The reason in particular that he ends up becoming a weekly boss is basically because he pulled a Signora.

Vihaan is a Pyro Catalyst character, but doesn’t have a Vision. How is he able to do that, you may ask? He fucked around and found out.

As a member of Spantamad, he learned stories of a woman named Rosalyne who attended the Akademiya 500 years ago who studied ancient Pyro magicks and learned to weild the element without the usage of a Vision. No one else has ever been able to find records of how she was able to do this and she was the only person in recorded history to have been noticed as an elemental wielding non-Vision bearer. One day, Vihaan is going through the House of Daena for his newest thesis essay when he discovers a hand-written journey, claiming to belong to Rosalyne.

He reads through the journal, which recounts Rosalyne's time spent at the Akademiya. Inside, there is a guide to a ritual that supposedly allowed Rosalyne to connect to the Ley Lines and infuse her very essence with Pyro. Vihaan, of course, follows this ritual, striving for graduation. The ritual goes off successfully, but perhaps the success was not a good thing.

By completing the ritual successfully, Vihaan has basically given himself a death sentence. The ritual causes Pyro to be infused with the person's essence, binding them eternally to that element. Vihaan's blood was effected by the ritual, turning his blood into molten fire running through his veins. His own obsession with knowledge and his desire to leave a mark in history is burning his body away from the inside out. Basically, he ends up with a terminal illness due to his own stubbornness. The consequences of his actions mean, he’ll either die from his body melting from the inside out or he’ll be overcome

Vihaan is a playable character, but he was a weekly boss before anything else similar to Childe.

The weekly boss is called the Sun Spider. It’s based off a spider in real life of the same name. Please, do not look it up if you have arachnophobia because that thing is creepy as fuck, but it’s so baller too.

So, because Vihaan is similar to Signora, his Sun Spider form is very similar to the Crimson Witch of Flames. Whereas Signora’s Crimson Witch form is moth-themed due to her themes of resurrection in her story from Rosalyne to the CW to Signora, Vihaan’s form is more spider-themed, of course. Spiders are often considered omens of death in a lot of cultures, but in a lot of other cultures, spiders are symbols of wisdom (often being credited for being the first textile weavers and etc), patience, persistence, and artistry. Both of those fit for Vihaan’s themes and symbolism within his story bc A) terminal illness (death omen) and B) he’s an Akademiya student which you need a lot of wisdom and patience and persistence to deal with.

I also have his boss fight phases written out somewhere because I am so normal about Vihaan <3

[bluebluebluewoods]

<33 THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!!

It’s somewhere in the middle of au and just. Really extensive headcanons that have gone completely out of line… My terrible little verse.

Most basic explanation of it is that my Smurfs are a race of moon elf that like.. got cursed (DUBIOUS FANTASY MANY GENERATIONS TIME) ago to be Wee Folk, instead of carbon based theyre magic based mammals, Papa’s village is the *actual* lost village while the Grove is just. A fun WLW enclave, and all the Smurfs in Papa’s village are either firstborns he got from shady deals in his youth he never expected to get paid off (~10-20%), unwanted children or orphans left to die in the woods Be Taken By The Smurfling’s Witch (~another 20%), and the rest is mainly just Smurfs who wandered in or were connected to him one way or another before he retreated to the woods away from all society to be a weird guy. He’s a former adventurer because I’m a sucker for funny rpg type content.

Their speech is heavily laden with natural magic, so while to human ears it sounds like theyre just saying Smurf a bunch its just because we can’t process the weird echos and intricacies of their natural magic. Actually most other species can’t hear Smurf language fully. Smurvish is a mix of the common language of the area + their weird magic echo talk.

Most important thing is they all have cute fluffy white legs with lil paws and sharp claws. Big pointy teeth too. They’re non-obligate carnivores, and while theyre all made of magic only some of em can Consciously access it to do things like spell casting etc.

Some more misc stuff below:

Brainy n Hefty’s parents were very close to Papa and part of an adventuring party with him ~~he slept with 3/4~~, Brainy’s died when he was a wee kid and he latched hard onto Uncle Papa, while Hefty’s two mums (hes got a tat for each mum !! Loves his mums!!) chef and baker settled down in the village eventually after spending a lot of Hefty’s formative years leaving him there on trips. Child rearing for Smurfs is often a communal task unless smth is Very Wrong (hence, unwanted children get abandoned to get taken up by Papa’s stork familiars) so Hefty is fine with it. He loves his Uncle. Great guy !!

There’s two main naming conventions for Smurfs: Old fashioned Witch-read names, and the much more modern Botanical/Natural themed ones. There’s no gender distinction between these names, theres plenty of women and nonbinary smurfs in papas village. Smurf being at the front or end of a name is purely a location based thing, either way it’s essentially adding a polite thing suffix/prefix like Miss X or X-san etc. The weird magic speech stuff is also involved here, since some of the echos also contain the home location of the Smurf.

Witch-read names basically involve a witch getting fucked on magic potions and scrying your babies future, and whatever word they vaguely mumble in their haze? That’s the kids name, good or bad. Papa was designated female at birth but still received the name Papa because the witch reading his name was like oh yeah dad vibes for sure. Smurfette’s name is actually just Smurf but it’s the specific word for their species’ inherent magic <:3c bc papa is sappy and thats his doughter. Nobody Smurf was named that initially bc he’s Vanity’s mirror self, and straight up reflected Papa’s magic when he tried to read his name, meaning he just registered as… no one there….. Papa was very apologetic about this and offered to give him one of those Fancy New Fangled Modern Names but eventually Nobody just changed his name to Somebody. He’s not really bothered by it.

Tryin to think what else… Gargamel is the closest human to understanding Smurf speech because he truly is Obsessed with them and spends so much time in their company and has absorbed so much like… of their basic radiated magic from just hanging out with them/trying to eat/refine them. He doesn’t know this. He can’t access the magic he’s absorbed from them without it being refined into smurf essence, or that he’s even absorbed any of it. It’s extended his life span greatly though. He’s got a weird thing going on with papa, if they were the same species they’d have been divorced three or four times by now.

I am. Literally always happy to ramble about my silly little verse wheeze this is already such a long post though ARGH

I might have no idea what's going on, but I really like your art :]

- Bluebell

Thank you!! :D

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE 

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home… 

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home. 

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her. 

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet. 

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was. 

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that. 

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss. 

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place. 

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt. 

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him. 

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones. 

“Bakugo?” 

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan. 

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable. 

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer. 

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.” 

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?” 

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder. 

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin. 

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?” 

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him. 

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other. 

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling. 

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him. 

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way. 

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend. 

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name... 

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying. 

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core. 

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat. 

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her. 

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.  

“Ba- ba- Baku- go,  plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him. 

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock. 

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries. 

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead. 

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?” 

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts. 

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?” 

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head. 

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists. 

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...” 

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.” 

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh. 

“Katsuki’s slut!” 

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face. 

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.” A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest. 

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned. 

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?” 

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him. 

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place. 

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort. 

“No…” 

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear. 

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip. 

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down. 

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did. 

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face. 

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her. 

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy. 

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites. 

Sickness. 

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots. 

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver. 

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…” 

He fought to find eye-contact. 

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left. 

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second. 

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.” 

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.” 

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead. 

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead. 

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[oexen]

Do you have any Valdemar headcanons you'd be willing to share? ^^

OF COURSE I DO thank u for asking anon, i ended up writing a bunch of stuff wehehe i hope u enjoy

Fluff

• I love to think that they have a secret penchant for cute tiny things, and I do mean things that are widely publicly accepted as cute and it would be super embarrassing if anyone found out. No one can ever know.

• They carry fantasy HotHands ™ in their pocket. :^)

• They’d get offended if you accused them of committing some atrocity or crime, but not for the right reasons. How dare you insinuate they’re a filthy pleb, obviously they’re above that, Fool.

• They really try to be funny, even if subconsciously. (Dr. 069 in the house, calling MC a Fool haw haw, oh woops, looks like I have interrupted your Romantic Endeavors :3c, how do you do fellow humans) One of these days someone will laugh at their dry ass non-jokes, right? Right???

• If they really wanted to they could whip out their tentacles to do menial tasks but it’s more fun to watch other more perishable beings try hard to do things for them

• Duck whisperer, no one knows why. Quackstor

• They never put anything extra in their tea.

• I think they’re generally very clean, and they’d smell like clean laundry or nothing. Alcohol would dry their shit all the way out, and it’s pretty difficult to keep yourself clean when you wear all white all the time, so I don’t think they’d smell like death, decay, chemicals, the dungeon, etc. They’re completely swaddled and must look ✨ crisp ✨. Their eldritch spaghetti form would have to smell like nothing or it would have an aoe instadeath radius for sure.

• Theatre kid. Horse kid. Where are their horse demon characteristics smh

• As much as they’re ~above humans~ they’re still thirsty for juicy drama and will use themself to that end. They’re more there for the drama than they’re an active threat unless they’re ordered to do things, but they’ve still shown they won’t follow orders to the letter unless they personally want to.

• They hate all the paperwork they’re stuck with :3

Angst under the cut!

• They’re touch-starved. Getting physically close to MC is a 2 birds 1 stone situation, they get to scare the pants off them (oops ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )and they microdose intimacy.

• I like thinking about how Valdemar’s emotions, especially their love of discovery, were torn away from them over the course of their deal-making, so they’re now obsessed with science and research in the same way that Volta’s obsessed with food, they can’t stop pursuing it, they know they’re supposed to like it, but they can’t really taste the fruits of their or anybody else’s labor :’^) Their insistance that they ~love~ death and decay is a cover story, mostly. The sentiment used to have meaning.

• They could, once again, whip out their tentacles at any point when they’re alone in the dungeon all the time, but they try to remember what it is to feel like a person sometimes. They know no one’s coming down there anymore, and they’d save themself some trouble if they casually used demon powers, but they don’t. It’s weirdly vulnerable.

• Kinda fluff, kinda angst, Valdemar likes tea and the feeling of a warm drink is supposed to make people happier/friendlier as well as it simulates human touch, and I feel like they use that to feel something (like the ghost of a warm fuzzy feeling B’^) ) considering it’s something small and frivolous they go out of their way to enjoy. If you hold their hands they don’t feel the need to make tea as often ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) They cling to the last shreds of their humanity with everything they have or they wouldn’t be able to function properly.

• Underneath all their posturing and effortless intimidation, they know they fucked it all up big time, but they’ve at least convinced themself that they’ve accepted it. They’re stuck, bored as hell, and know they can’t reverse anything, so why bother entertaining the thought of regret? I think MC noting that Valdemar couldn’t have made certain expressions Muriel did speaks to that they only allow themself a small range of emotions.

• Their relationship with Death really closely mirrored Nadia’s relationship with the High Priestess, when they were human. They didn’t have a strong support network though, and thus were more inclined to accept deals from the Devil. Death might have taught them a lot, and Valdemar at least acts as if death and its processes are all they care for; they don’t have much else. I think they say a lot of things to convince themself that whatever they’ve done isn’t fucked up beyond all reason (ends justify the means wink wonk), as much as it also works as a facade.

• They started with good intentions, they wanted to discover things and help people, if they were that ancient alchemist, something made them desperate. They went too deep in the Devil’s bogo deal special, Death’s disappointment felt like a betrayal (Don’t you think I should help more people? Why are you so against my success?) and Death’s pain may not have occurred to them.

• The breakdown of Valdemar’s relationship with Death must have been long and painful on both sides at some point, but by the time Death was weakened like the Hierophant in Nadia’s route, Valdemar had their own blinders on🐴 and/ or was too deep in the Devil’s thrall to acknowledge what it really meant.

• They had a need for power and control over their life and ended up giving up what little they really had for illusions of these things, and once they realized that’s what was happening, it was far too late. Can’t half-ass it though I guess lol they said crank that shit up to 11. Then they just ended up with all the paperwork lmfao

Misc

• They helped create an entire society that at some point was even advanced and prosperous, and while they say they love to see it fall, it also means it’s in their best interest to help in bringing it up. They also would rather be employed than not, and love having opportunities to reject invitations to meetings and other things.

[uniquevocashark]

igraine for multiples of 10!! and if you're feeling spicy, throw catherine into the mix for the same questions :3c

First, i am so sorry this is late i have been living with the guilt of not replying ever since asdnkajsnd

anyway! Questions from here

10. Your character has discovered that they only have a week left to live. What do they do with that time?

Igraine is egotistical enough to not believe it at first, the first and second day would be her completely living in this denial until she caves to Castello and takes more tests. From there, her time is all about cheating her way out of death; her thought process is always that she can get another body if it comes down to it. She would spend most of her time with Castello as well, as they are extremely close.

Catherine is a lot more normal in her reaction to the news, being more familiar with mortality and without the continent sized superiority complex that Igraine has. She would spend at least a day reminiscing and crying, and deciding what she wants to do. Given the choice of how to spend her time, she would immediately return to her hometown and hunt the rest of her family down before sorting out her will. Without the choice, she would become a permanent fixture at Lady Dimitrescu's side until she dies, at which point she would be turned into wine.

20. How would your character define love?

Igraine defines love as unwavering commitment bordering on obsession, lacking all morals. For her, doubt is impossible to have for people she loves; its why shes so loyal to Lady Dimitrescu and Castello. All that matters is proving that, no matter what, you'll be there; its something i'm super excited to explore in the forbidden happy end fic, since this clashes with Lady Dimitrescu's more romantic ideas of love.

30. Does your character have a family? If so, do they get along well with them?

Yes! Igraine has a big family, if you count the hundreds of other weskers running around. She only knows about ten of them that are still alive, and is only close with Castello, to the point where they market themselves as twins. Otherwise, she doesn't know her birth family and has no desire to find them.

Catherine has a dad, two siblings and a niece. They were very close knit before she disappeared in the romanian wilderness, as they shared a lot of the same tastes in music and movies and worked close together but they wouldn't get along if she returned after working for Lady Dimitrescu.

40. Do people expect a lot from your character or look up to them for something? Why or why not?

For both, yes. Other than just job obligations, Igraine also bears the expectations for being a "better species" from Castello because of the whole eugenics upbringing. It's doubled as Castello is mold infected and thus they can't be the same as they want to be.

Catherine, as one of Igraine's and Lady Dimitrescu's favourites, is also expected to perform well. Specifically, she's expected to show enough aptitude for favourable cadou exposure.

50. What's their earliest memory?

Igraine's earliest memory is walking in an umbrella observatory. It's a very fuzzy memory since it's ~40 years old. She remembers the walls turning blue as the roof opened and going from a pitch black room to see a sky dotted with more stars than she had ever seen in her life.

Catherine earliest memory is a family day trip before her other dad passed. She remembers the smell of the ice cream and suncreen, the buzz from the cicada she caught and the clear sky, though the faces in the memory have begun to blur.

60. Have they ever committed a crime, or something they felt was wrong? What was it?

YES. Igraine's liberal approach to morals lends itself handily to her life of crime, from petty thievery up to bioterrorism. There were only 3-4 times she's done something that felt wrong, the big one being lying to Castello about why she killed their partner when they were younger. (It was because of attempted blackmail).

Catherine has committed larceny and torture, but she has only ever murdered one person, and she's felt terrible about it ever since.

70. When it comes to clothing, what's their style? Do they prefer natural or formal? Skinny or baggy?

Igraine prefers formal clothing and leans into the flamboyant style (and yes, i did google fashion styles). She tends to go for oranges and yellows, and prefers big chunky accessories. In the castle she's much more subdued, but that's because Lady D chose her clothes.

80. How do they spend a rainy day?

Igraine likes to spend time outside on rainy days. She'll either wait until the storm is really ramping up to go for a walk or will wander around when its constant but light. Once she's had her dunk, she spends the rest of the day in blankets reading, or prepping for sunnier times.

Catherine drinks a hefty amount of coffee and is Lady Dimitrescu's preferred accessory during rainy days. Her hands are much steadier than anyone else in the castle, making her ideal for painting sessions, darts, harp playing and tinkering and fixing simple electronic mishaps. Otherwise she remains in the staff quarters, playing cards or dominoes when she doesn't need alone time. She's very social, so she tends to be around people when it rains.

[guqin-and-flute]

please tell me everything about yanxiyao. i am invested. nay, i am obsessed. an ot3 made up entirely of people who Deserved Better and they are GETTING IT. i don’t care if it’s deep, agonizing 3AM thoughts that make me question how i think about life and love and the mortifying ordeal of being known or if it’s pointless fluffbits scrounged up from your daydreams. GIVE THEM TO ME

AHA, this delighted me, I’m so glad!! [rubs hands] Okay, you have unlocked the avalanche, stream of consciousness, here we go. Boy howdy this got long, so full rambling under the cut. 

So I’ve already outlined how it starts with JGY, but you’ve probably seen that and I’m probably going to actually write a getting together fic at some point if the scenes start falling out of the sky into my head, so I’ll skip past that for the time being and start with the beginning of the triad. It begins in a most definite V with JGY as the hinge--Xichen and Yanli are very careful and considerate about each other’s time with him and try very hard not to overlap. Most things are separate--sex times, dates, meals (unless it’s everyone [siblings, et. al] eating together), sleepovers. 

However, something happens. Perhaps JGY starts asking to spend a day with both of them, perhaps the greeting conversations when Xichen visits grow longer and warmer and bleed into sitting together over tea, laughing, and forgetting the days plans. Perhaps the way Xichen delights in holding their daughter and playing so very patiently with her begins to completely charm Yanli.

Perhaps it’s when Yanli and JGY leave the toddler with Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng to go for a nice leisurely trip together to Gusu but the weather turns and they have to stay in an inn in the middle of nowhere overnight and Yanli’s health takes a sharp dive all of a sudden and JGY sends a Jin butterfly to tell Xichen the situation and that they’re going to be late. And it’s only after he’s sent it that it comes to his attention that this rinky-dink village’s doctor actually lives in the next city over and is out of town for his daughter’s wedding or something idiotic and won’t be back for days--he has learned this after a slog through the rain to said doctor’s empty house in said next-city-over and then returned to demand of the innkeeper what exactly he’s playing at, sending him out like that when he knew the doctor wasn’t there. And he’s in the process of not strangling the innkeeper when the door bursts open and it’s Xichen, completely waterlogged and anxious and JGY is appalled that he’s just flown through a thunderstorm but secretly very, very relieved he is here. 

And so they go upstairs and Yanli is incredibly happy to see both of them, especially since her fever has gotten worse and she is freezing. She wants snuggles and JGY reasons that they should both get in on it, because more body heat, y’know (he’s only trying to help, there are limited options, here) but he and Xichen both are completely soaked from traveling in the rain and they hesitate. Yanli is very much, ‘Oh noooo, the 2 hot men who need to snuggle me are covered in wet cloooothes?? Whatever shall we doooo?’ And the both of them are very seriously trying to tell her that Xichen will need to take off his robes if they’re going to be in bed together and is she okay with that and she’s like, ‘WhaAaaAaat? 😲 Holy cow, I guess I’ll suffer through :3c’ And they laugh and snuggle and sleep and the next few days is them taking care of her while she apologizes for getting sick and ruining the trip while they maintain that this is very nice, actually, minus her feeling terrible. They don’t actually visit Gusu and just end up spending time together in the inn while she recovers.

So, after that, Yanli and Xichen’s relationship becomes a lot more physically affectionate--they hug when they see each other, they kiss each other on the cheek, Yanli and JGY both snuggle up to his sides when they sit alone on the pavilion with the curtains drawn. The both of them have talked separately with JGY about whether this is okay, whether they’re overstepping any boundaries, and his response was basically an incredulous, ‘Are you joking? This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ And so the 3 of them spend more and more time together, and maybe there’s a night where they’re all in Xichen’s guest room at Lotus Pier, maybe having a few drinks, and they get onto the subject of how good of a kisser their A-Yao is and he protests saying that they’re biased because they haven’t kissed anyone else, so how could they know. And Xichen flushes and grins, “Aren’t you sly?” and JGY blinks innocently and says, “I don’t know what on earth you could mean 😇!” and Yanli is biting back a laugh and also a little pink but tilts her chin up invitingly and they do kiss and it’s lovely and JGY realizes exactly how much he enjoys that. And from then on, the Xichen’s guest room is more of a formality/decoy than anything else and their suite just so happens to get updated with a bigger bed because, y’know, reasons.

✨Vibes✨:

-WangXian matchmaking happens in earnest when YanXiYao first start their arrangement because now JGY has a concrete reason to find more excuses for more frequent visits from the Twin Jades

-Something about the 2 of them together makes it so that JGY can break down more easily--when it’s just Yanli, he still feels very protective and it’s hard to show his anger. When it’s just Xichen, he doesn’t want to cause him pain, and it’s hard to show when he’s hurting and despairing. When the three are together he is able to let them hold him more easily instead of withdrawing and isolating himself, and it frustrates him, but is also very good for him. 

-Xichen and Yanli have a very intense and deep affection for each other that rides the fuzzy line of romantic and alterous; they enjoy cuddling, kissing, they definitely aren’t averse to having sex with each other but it usually happens when JGY is involved in some way, whether everyone participates or it’s a voyeuristic situation in whatever capacity (though this may be impacted by the fact that he doesn’t live with them and most days, Yanli is pleasantly lukewarm about sexual activity in general, so who’s to say it wouldn’t happen naturally, in time?) 

-Xichen and Yanli have a relationship that has grown beyond just what they have with JGY and have a wonderful time talking together, giving each other gifts, and exchanging letters. There is a shared exasperation for JGY’s treatment of his health and often look to each other as back up (JGY is annoyed. They simply smile.) They don’t feel the need to really categorize their relationship besides the fact that they love each other, consider the other their best friend, are deeply fond of one another, and plan to all stay as they are for the rest of their lives. (Maybe, eventually, this will lead to a secret marriage ceremony, just for the 3 of them).

-It was after the inn/fever incident that she insisted Xichen call her A-Li

-All 3 have a devious streak and it makes for some very sweet 2 ganging up on 1 and showering them with kisses and affection.

-JGY and Yanli write him joint letters as well as individual ones of their own 

-JGY and Yanli view Xichen as an equal status, commuter sort of parent and ask for his opinions and advice on parenting things. Xichen loves the kids like his own and gets to essentially have a kid without the complicated feelings of them being his heir and going through the Lan’s strict practices and corporal punishment. He takes them at Cloud Recesses for a few weeks every year.

-Each of the men have their own guilt attacks, now and again, Xichen about his involvement being selfish (Heirs! Propriety! His uncle!) and JGY over wanting too much (Infidelity! Reputation! A-Li!), and Yanli--who has done enough soul searching and has very comfortably decided that, no, she is quite fine being happy--calmly sits them down, gives them tea, kisses their foreheads, and makes them hold hands with her as they watch their kids play. 

[marvus-xoloto]

YOUR FLUFFY ALPHABET IS SO CREATIVE I LOVE IT!!! Now, time for our favourite Clown Star yes?~ ;3c Comfort, Reveal Odd and Meal for Marvus please! ❤ ouo

aw tysm ❤️ !! i had a lot of fun making it. under a cut for length <3

Comfort: What helps them calm down after negative emotions? How do they help calm down others? Where are their biggest source(s) of comfort in their life?

Physical release... take that as you will ,’:^]

Lol no but I’ve said this before, but high moments of stress tend to be hell on his back up dancers and personal trainers. He wants to perfect things, feel some control over whatever he can get his puppet strings into. He’s self aware enough to know that tinkering obsessively with a beat or his upcoming album or whatever isn’t going to get him anywhere; at least a physical outlet helps him get to sleep at the end of the night.

He’s also prone to a slice of slime pie, a preroll, or whatever sort of light drugs he can get his hands on in the moment. Because it’s pretty common for clowns to dabble in these things, it’s a way for Marvus to kind of hide that he’s feeling some type of way. Yeah he wants to get fucked up and party! Bad mood, what are you talking about? All clowns party, dogg. Lol. He does tend to push his bad moods behind the curtains and let them fester.

As for calming others... I mean, he can convince anyone of anything. He’ll talk you through it, and though he’s a little bit out of touch with most people and their problems, he’s earnest in his own way. I think I’m evolving a previous headcanon I held here; Marvus has a 50/50 shot at actually being comforting vs just talking at you and not helping at all.

His biggest sources of comfort in life are his closest friends. He’s a chronic extrovert and loves to fuck around with his buddies. Trust is hard to earn with him; if you’re his friend, you pretty much stay there. He may not confide in you (he reserves his confidence for his quads, but even that’s rare), but he will seek you out for company on bad days.

Reveal: What are their emotional tells? Are they generally more expressive or more communicative with their emotions?

Check da canesword��👊😔 For real, though, moments of high emotion have him spinning and twirling and gesticulating with that thing. In general, he can be kind of fidgety. 

His face isn’t super expressive in any genuine way (unless he’s alone with someone he cares about; again, Marvus can be earnest, but that only comes with deep trust). He has strict control over what passes over his face, and it’s usually only what he wants you to see unless something takes him by complete surprise.

Odd: What makes them unique? Do they have any rituals specific to them and their life? Are they generally well liked by people they meet, or are they slower to connect?

He’s almost frighteningly charismatic. People see “Marvus” before they see “blood thirsty clown caste” 9 times out of 10 if his voice hits your ears before his image hits your eyes. He’s also just genuinely a pretty good guy for alternian standards. He’s well liked by those he chooses to connect with; even people who find him annoying can, at the very least, understand the charm. As for connecting, though, he does have his curtain that he hides behind, and it’s difficult to get that backstage pass.

I don’t see him having rituals, really. He likes to have little parties after an album release and just generally celebrate the good times, but that’s all I can think of.

Meal: Can they cook? What are their favorite foods? Do they assign importance to meals, or is it just something they need to do to stop their hunger?

YES I made this question with Marvus in mind specifically lol. AND! We are going to touch on my forbidden sandwich headcanons here. Slowly, they’re taking shape...... Anyway kshdasd 

Can he cook? On a stove......... no 😌❤️ He does burn that shit, keeps the heat either at a full 10 or off, no in between. But he can bake like nobody’s business. It’s all thanks to the real MVP of a cooking sesh: the timer. The really annoying, hard to ignore, timer, lol. 

His favorite foods tend to be spicy, sweet and salty. Marvus steers towards “east alternian” style foods, but more specifically he likes indian, vietnamese, and thai food. Still, he does love his general tso’s chicken on his cheat days. He has a bit of a sweet tooth and finds it hard to say no to dessert, his strict diet be damned.

Does he assign importance to meals? Only one: lunch. His life tends to be pretty hectic, and- despite his best efforts- he brings the hectic habits home with him. Most of his meals and snacks are quick and convenient foods that he can eat on the go. Marvus loves that pizza lunchables with the anchovies and a protein bar, call that a shark coochie board. He learned pretty quickly, though, that he loves to have his time in the middle of the night just for himself. 

And thus, Marvus lunch was born. He takes a little time in the middle of the night to slow down and savor a good meal. He still has to kind of hustle occasionally, so he’s never going to have complicated lunches, but a good ass sandwich? He’s here for it. His favorite (I am 100% projecting here, but allow me be self indulgent within my own self indulgent hc lmao) has onion jam, arugula, spicy sausage, pepper jack cheese, and pressed crusty bread. Maybe a lil side of soup. It’s just good for the soul. He loves to share his meal with company, because yes he is a social being, but also because sharing a meal has become a sort of love language for him.

Ask game found here.

[nighttimepixels]

Alright alright, I’ve had liquid courage and we’ll say that this is for the best, moment important science. Sapphic science!! Which of the Lilytale ladies would love their significant other dancing only for them in their underwear or lingerie?? If all, then what’re their general reactions? 👀✨

Bless you and your liquid courage >:Dc

Answer below the cut bc things get... saucy 👀

All of them are into it.

I mean, that’s practically a given, right? Hot damn, their s/o giving them a private show like that? Dressed up (or dressed down ;D) and feeling flirty/teasing/into them so much that they want to give them a little show~?

Count these ladies down.

The only question then is just how they specifically react - and how long such a dance might last before the lady in question breaks and has to show you just how much they appreciate your hard work >:3c

Serif (Lady UT Sans): What, she gets to lay back and simply appreciate how gorgeous her s/o is? Heart eyes all the way. Be prepared though bc she’s going to keep complimenting you in a low, flirty voice until you cave - and then she’s pulling you onto her lap, hands trailing to every place she’s already memorized will get you just as riled as you’ve gotten her~

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Her cheekbones are burning, and as much as she tries to stay still- she can’t help herself! You’re so gorgeous, and attractive, and she’s never much been one for sitting still even as much as she enjoys appreciating fine art - your dance for her will turn into a mutual dance before you find her lifting you into her arms in that perfect way that allows you to wrap your legs around her and... well, a very different kind of dance is on the menu, then ;D

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Has she died and gone to heaven? She might as well have. Sapphire’s never been terribly spiritual, but in that moment she’s considering going to her knees and doing some dedicated worship indeed. >v> Count her as a rather uncooperative but delightful audience before long - she can’t keep her hands off you, even if she won’t interrupt the dance itself. Prepare for teasing touches to linger more and more, tracing and becoming part of the dance itself - before her mouth joins in, and you might just need to take a seat and let her show you her own moves~

Amber (Lady US Pap): Absolute prayhands meme. She’s sitting back, lounging, her s/o dressed like this and dancing for her-? One of the hardest to resist, actually, because her bedroom eyes are at full power. All the confidence in the world still finds a hard time not caving into the way she’s somehow both cherishing you in adoration in that glance, and also undressing you and promising a night full of her showing you just what she’s confident she can do to you. Also though, liable to be putty in your hands at the same time. Make thigh highs part of your lingerie look and I hope you’re not looking to sleep anytime soon... or walk on the jelly legs you’re going to be left with ;D

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Is facing an absolute internal crisis. She can’t interrupt this absolute genie’s wish of a moment, but also can’t resist you. Extremely liable to turn into a very handsy lapdance, complete with dirty talk so sweet and filthy alike that your ears are going to be burning for days. She’s going to make sure you know just how lucky she feels to be with you - and how much she’d love to see any show you’d like to put on for her, anytime...♡♡♡

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Has turned the color of her namesake. Holy shit, she’s written this sort of thing before, but... no one’s ever actually done it for her - you might end up interrupted if only because Scarlet’s going to implode if she doesn’t do something. Prepare to be passionately ravaged - by the end of the night, though, she’ll end up murmuring into the crown of your head as you cuddle exhausted and brought to shall-we-say satisfaction maaaany times over - that perhaps, if you’d be willing to do so again, she might resist longer... if not though, then, well, this sort of development seems mutually enjoyable too, no? ;D

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Stars help her you’re going to end her and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Of course, prepare to be domme’d to hell and back following this... but gods, with what praise. She’s sorely tempted to ask you to record it - in the single moment she can scrape together enough braincells to think about anything other than you and the way you move, the way you look - but decides in the end she’d much rather have the real you... tangled up with her, keening her name in that perfect way you do. Extremely liable to end up pinning you to the nearest wall/floor and not even make it to the bed, though she’ll appreciate every moment of your dance first~

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): ... Is pretty sure she’s having the best dream ever. Literally, it’s not until you brush your touch to her bones for the first time in the dance that she snaps out of her lovestruck and horny stupor - her gaze has been predatory in the best way, and now it’s downright ravenous. She leans back and catches you by the wrist, then the waist, her claws sliding delicatedly up the curve of your back - and you find yourself divested of your clothing before you can even realize it, as her other hand has gotten rather busy in that skilled way that always makes you gasp and moan a little. Yeah, this is going to be another deliciously long night... and she’ll be hoping for more in the future, if you’re willing. ;)c

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Honestly one of the most liable to ‘break’ the fastest. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate it - but rather, appreciates it so much (that you’d think her worth the effort like that, broken, beat up her, slower to the punch than the rest of the girls, no matter her other qualities...) that she just can’t resist showing you, immediately. Also can’t quite move like that herself, and knows it - but she can send you to heaven so many times in one night you forget your own name... and she’s intending to do just that, all the while imprinting on her struggling memory just what you looked like, dancing like that for her. <3

Twist (Lady HT  Pap): Well, you’d have to really modify a dance like that for her anyways, given the fact that Twist is blind... very hands on from the start. Twist admittedly likes it - loves to feel the way you can move like that, so smooth and sweet and deliberate, just for her, even when she can’t properly see you to appreciate some of the finer points... but, well, being so hands on means it quickly devolves into an even more intimate dance. And Twist has always adored being a giver in this field, particularly liking to wreck you in the best ways until all your worries and the world fades away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined, so... hope you don’t mind that being the natural process for dancing for Twist! ♡

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): An absolute connoisseur. Quite possibly the perfect audience, all things said and done - the perfect balance of surprised, delighted, and turned on, making all the right comments, teasing flirts, occasional tempting touches before you dance away again, the re-approach... the perfect sort of devolving as the dance breaks down into wanting grasps, kisses at the column of your throat, her arms pulling you in so you’re straddling her lap... and so much more to come ✧(ô▿ô )

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Is the one most likely to end up straight up dancing with you. She’ll be teasing and flirty and turned on by the display and the desire behind it... and then she’s catching you as she rises, turning the whole thing into a slow, languid, passionate dance where there’s hardly any space between you. Prepare for another long night, and more than likely to be edged until you at last crash over the peak in a way that’ll feel like your whole-ass soul left your body. Glyph knows how to treat an s/o right.

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Absolutely blown away, hardly conceived of this as... an option??? Still baffled, but you can see the deeper flare of desire in her eyelight as it blows wide and shrinks down once more... settling into a tiny heart. It’s been a long, long time since attraction ever begot this sort of thing for her - and that you’d do it for her, well... She’ll be fiercely committing this moment to memory, but prepare to take a seat before too long on her face your throne so she can properly show you her appreciation ;)c

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): The size difference here could be comical, but for her, it just emphasizes what she already knew - that you’re the greatest treasure she could ever protect and dedicate herself too. Her touches once they come are tentative - so aware of your smaller size - but no less enamored for it. All but obsessed at the fact you’d do something like this for her - and she won’t just take a night, but several days to prove it to you. With breaks for homemade snacks, of course - gotta keep her perfect little human fueled up as she completely rocks their world ;Dc

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 8

Get ready for some plot, and intrigue and conflict of interest. Again, thanks to @kriskukko for lending me the amazing picture of a regency era orc and letting me run wild. Thanks to @punkhorse96 for all the amazing feedback and everyone else who likes and reblogs this story. I appreciate it. Also do you guys have any idea how hard it is to find AN AGED regency couple? Thankfully Bridgerton showed that an older woman could wear the fashions of her own youth and didn’t necessarily have to keep with the most up to date fashions. So that allowed me to go find this pic of a qeen, Glenc Close in her movie Dangerous Encounters back in the late 80′s. I have never seen it, but IT’S THE AESTETIC. taking it, using it and lo and behold, we have our Gregori and Yalin, Ramsey’s parents who have taken a shine to Audra. But will their light shine on her so warmly when they find out the truth and find they might have less to gain than they thought? And will their wills be stronger than the Morrigans? And what will the Morrigans do to keep the status quo when their own past comes back to haunt them? We shall see. 

Blood For Gold 

Part 8

All the way to the Windsor Palace the Morrigans had nothing but “instruction” towards you and for Jane, all about minding your manners, acting in the utmost chaste conduct so that you would not bring shame or dishonor onto the family and to not leave each other’s side while they berated you for acting so “brazen” with the Dauphin for having eaten your dinner next to him as they accused you of practically shamelessly throwing yourself at him like a common whore by dancing with him for most of the evening, even though the Dauphin didn’t leave you with much of a choice. It was the Dauphin who practically dragged you to meet his family and the King and Queen, his uncle and aunt and their children and of course the host, which was Yalin’s sister, Infanta Evinelle DeuSavance and her husband the Infante Charles DeuSavance who was the king’s cousin and their children who were very nice and charming and welcoming as they all gave Ramsey a not so subtle nod of approval. And then at dinner, Ramsey dragged you to sit there between himself and his sister and Ramsey simply would not leave your side after Demsey dared to get you away for only a moment, Ramsey wouldn’t let that incident repeat with anyone, he capitalized on your time all night. 

You didn’t even get to go to the restroom without his sister Charlotte and Jane following you like puppies with Lady Whitesale not being too far behind them, and you got the impression they were sent as eyes and ears for others and you barely got into a bathroom stall to get some privacy to breathe and even loosened your corset so that you could breathe easier because after two years, you had almost forgotten what it felt like to be the center of attention in a room full of people, you garnered more attention that even Calla and Bennie because of who you were with all night and the weight of their scrutinizing gaze was particularly heavy and now you were anxious just to get to Windsor just for the chance to breathe in the privacy of your room. 

Ramsey’s behavior seemed to appear as instant infatuation or for the romantically inclined- ‘love at first sight’. But the feeling was far from mutual, you were simply not attracted to him, at least not physically, also there was a real sense of desperation in his manners. He was the one throwing himself at you and trying to make himself out to be the best possible prospect for you. Which you found odd, perhaps a little worrying and off-putting because you just couldn’t understand why he was so dead set on you. He was himself perhaps a decade out of his prime and just shy of twice your age, not that it made too much of a difference to you because Edward had been over three times your age, almost four actually, when you wed him. Moura women were brought up to think nothing of major age gaps between moura brides and their husbands outside of Dorierra and especially within the culture of the stables. In fact it wasn’t unusual for mouras as young and pretty and accomplished as yourself to go through the stables at least three to four times, gaining more and more value with each remarriage because each marriage was “experience”. There were some moura women who were on their seventh and eighth marriage but the obsession of “virgin brides” also had it’s universal appeal. 

But after your disastrous marriage to Edward, you shuddered at the thought of going through the process again. That and Edward had known that you were hesitant to enter into that cycle even before you married him, that’s why he “bought you outright” so that you didn’t have to go back into that cycle, that once you survived him, you would be a free woman, free to do whatever you wanted to do, it was why he insisted that you drink pregnancy warding teas, and made sure to track your own cycle to make sure you would not concieve his child and be tethered to the Morrigans any more than you already were and made sure to afford you a comfortable living so that after his death, you’d have a good life, he had spent his whole life in service to his crown, country and king and business and at the end of his life, he was looking to set something free, instead of caging it forever, it was one of the biggest things you found to love about him. But sadly, he was one of the few people who really cared about what you personally wanted for yourself because he had genuinely cared for you and you felt, loved you, to a degree, at least in the beginning. But his own senility and madness soon erased it not long after. 

With Ramsey though, he projected so much onto you. Because he had gotten not just the report that Edward had gotten, which each bride in the stables got a report, tailored to fit potential prospects, like cherry picking things on a resume but he had also gotten the master resume which had everything on it. 

Moura brides usually had a very vast array of qualities and talents that were universal and the moura schools had some of the best teachers and professors in the world and as a child and up to a certain age, all moura children got the same top notch education that rivaled most scholars. However after the age of 12 or 13, schooling changed dramatically for the sexes. All men were pushed into either a service trade, commerce, engineering and technology or science or medicine, so that they all had a “useful” job within the country and of course military training but they were all pushed to serve in one way or another so that they could go into the many industries within the country, making goods and providing services and only the exceptionally musically talented men got to be “entertainers” which was an important service to the Dorierrian public. 

Women on the other hand, since the moura stable’s exports was solely brides for foreign dignitaries, they were taught government and more importantly, how to govern everything from a household to a country should they need to be a queen some day, they were taught all the major languages, especially the common tongue and economics, business, because all government was business, but also the art of war, including self defense so that in the case of attack, they could defend themselves and their future families, but especially psychological warfare, intrigue, manipulation for future political court life, in addition to the usual music, musical instruments of all kinds, singing, dancing, composing, arts of all kinds, including acting, ceramics, drawing, painting, sewing, embroidery, fashion, culinary arts as well as some medicine and of course- what was taught across all sexes was childcare because even after the plague, moura mothers still had a successful birth rate of 99%, with very little to no birth defects in the babes, no matter the mix of species and fathers especially were brought up to be an equal parent in the household so that in addition to their jobs, they could still come home and care for their own households and families, especially since moura mothers always seemed to have a newborn at their breast or one or even two or three in the womb at a time and both partners were brought up to be completely devoted to their families and any hint of any kind of abuse was swiftly dealt with and never tolerated and the focus was on having a happy family life. So if couples were unhappy with each other, divorce was easily attained and granted. And even with that measure in place, most moura partners, when there was a love match, ended up being married for life. It was not uncommon for women to go off through the stables once, then come back in widowhood and settle down with a moura mate and stay in the country after that. 

However there was an exception. For men and women who preferred sexual relations with the same sex as themselves, they could be entered into a smaller “private” school but it was for “concubines, consorts and courtisans”, otherwise known as 3C’s.  that had all the training moura brides had but it allowed men to have the same higher educations women enjoyed if it meant that it prepared them for life as a king’s courtisan and concubine on their private privy council and it was usually only through 3C’s, that moura men were ever allowed to leave Dorierra under any circumstances other than war, which considering all the political alliances Dorierra had with every other nation in the world, was very, very seldom, but that didn’t mean Dorierra was lax, the moura brides were often Dorierra’s eyes and ears on the rest of the world and reported back to them accordingly. Even in the case of revolution where some royals and aristocracy could lose their heads, it was the morua brides and their children at least, who were always allowed to return to Dorierra unharmed and could be rescued in dire situations by either dragons, pegasus’ griffins, since Dorierrians bred all three.  

So because of all of this education, which was better than most universities, a moura bride’s “resume” was very impressive and thus- cherry picked to suit the individual suitor based on the suitor’s culture. However all mouras had a master resume that accompanied their pedigree’s and lineage, which listed everything they had learned and had become proficient and excelled in. But even the master resume did not show what the individual moura really enjoyed and had a passion for. 

And with Ramsey, you could tell he simply went off your own master resume. Just because you knew something or even excelled at something, didn’t mean you really enjoyed it. For instance, on your master- you were taught how to be a queen, navigate court, and rule it, but that didn’t mean you had the ambition to be a queen and you did not feel it was your destiny to be one either. Presiding over Mirador was more than enough to satisfy you in that respect. You had no desire for much more than that. But Ramsey seemed intent that you should have a more active political role and couldn’t wait to see how you would advise him to gain even more power and clout in the House of Lords as well as garnering the love and admiration of the common man so that he could have more political reach than he already had, the very prospect nearly sent you running, in fact it was that, that had sent you to try to gain some solace in the bathroom in the first place because you just felt he was dragging you into this and because of “polite society” rules for decorum, you couldn’t counter, you couldn’t really speak your mind to him. All you could do was simply hum and acknowledge what he was saying to you and agree with what you could, but that was all. 

However to hear that Demsey, despite being a duke, was rarely ever in politics, in fact he seemed to spend all of his time and efforts into his family business, which to you was a very noble and honorable pursuit, had you even more drawn to him and make him even more desirable as a prospect to you. 

By the time you got to Windsor, you were so relieved even to see Ramsey come get you from the carriage if it meant you could get away from the Morrigans as Ramsey had you on one arm and Jane on the other which the Morrigans were happy to see before the Dauphine and the Senior Dauphin came over to have a word with them. 

“Well we must assure you that we will take the best of care of Jane while she’s here. And you must forgive our son, he’s been taken with the Sultana since her wedding to your late father Count Morrigan and then when he saw her when we went to the Savoy only a couple of weeks ago he has become quite obsessed ever since, in fact we were enjoying such a wonderful dinner there from our balcony at the Savoy where we seemed to look over your family in the main dining floor, however it was a shock and quite sad to see her eat so little that night.” Yalin noted with a frown to her husband. 

“Oh she’s a moura, they have the appetites of birds, she rarely has any appetite since she lost Edward.” Agnes readily answered but the look Yalin gave her said that she didn’t believe that and made Agnes’ forced polite smile falter slightly because mouras were renowned for their healthy appetites and high metabolisms despite their petite frames but excellent body conditions, having a healthy ratio between strength, stamina but still retain some softness in their hips and bellies and for women, especially their breasts because that’s what the body needed to ensure healthy offspring and a moura’s mother’s milk was some of the most nutritious of all the species. 

“Well we will certainly see to it she eats properly while she’s here, can’t have her growing malnourished can we? Because malnourishment leads to weak offspring and we can’t have that at all.” Yalin insisted to Gregori. 

“Quite right my dear.” Gregori readily agreed. 

“Oh, oh yes of course, we will also encourage her to eat well for the sake of her future.” Agnes reassured her, catching the Dauphine’s drift. 

“What I found odd is that when Ramsey looked into the Sultana just after seeing her at the Savoy a couple of weeks ago and asked the stables themselves for her master resume, the report that he got back after Edward’s death when they re-evaluated her was most disturbing, for a nescia - or princess, to be downgraded to a shakan, such a demotion had never happened before except in cases of extreme circumstances, such as revolution and anarchy, is there any reason you can give for such an extreme change?” Gregori asked them pointedly as the Morrigans looked at each other, trying not to betray how worried they were at such an intrusive question. 

“Well you see the Sultana is actually very, very delicate and mentally very weak, she took the decline of Edwards health so hard, and suffered so greatly from that loss that the stables gave her that, we surely didn’t have anything to do with it, in fact, we have done everything in our power to help her, including- moving her to Mirador and even increased the living that Edward afforded her so that she can live in the utmost of comfort, she even got to take her pick of servants from Broadcove that she grew fond of.” Richard tried to excuse as Gregori also gave him a look that he didn’t believe that either as Richard felt himself wither by Gregori’s intense gaze. 

“Well then we will have to be careful with her as well. Ramsey has quite made up his mind about her which is a relief to all of us. And of course as long as there is no interference, especially on your end, it can go smoothly, and of course there might be a promotion of rank if it goes well, I’m thinking a Marquise at least, if not Duchy.” Gregori offered and the Morrigans practically had their jaws on the floor of their carriage and were drooling a river at the prospect as they gave each other a giddy look. 

“Oh of course, of course, we will be giving every encouragement we can.” Agnes eagerly reassured them, because it was not uncommon for that to happen and it was just the opportunity they were looking for, because while they were disappointed that such a thing would be coming from you instead of Jane, they wouldn’t turn their nose up at such a prospect. Finally having a moura in the family would be paying off and worth it if it meant they could be Duke and Duchess and Jane of course could be eligible to be courted by all kinds of prospects and make the Dauphin Ramsey look like a lowly lord or knight, and a promotion such as that would push them onto the international Europa marriage market and could amasse even more power and money but from a much larger scale on an even larger stage. 

“Well if that is the case, then it’s a very curious thing, why did Duke Voyambi insist to Ramsey that his whole family saw and heard you dictate a list to the Sultana about suitors to avoid. In fact when Ramsey pressed the Sultana for such a list, she was able to produce this very one, where Ramsey’s name is at the very top of the list of suitors to avoid. I understand that both of you dictated this list for Jane to write down. And then when we made other inquires of those who happened to be around you at not just the Savoy but all over London at various shops that you snubbed half the court. Of course if such a thing were to be handed over to the King and Queen I’m wondering how they would react?” Gregori asked his beloved wife as Yalin smirked at seeing the Morrigan’s pale and nearly shit bricks right there in the driveway as Gregori pulled the list from his own breast pocket and looked it over and pointed to where his son’s name was written down with a deep scowl before looking expectantly up at them to answer for it. 

“Or heaven forbid Lady Bagum in the papers, surely if she got a whiff of this matter, she’d whip it up into quite the scandal, and if she ever got ahold of the list and if that ever got printed in the papers, I’m afraid what the repercussions of that would be, I would hate to see half of the court, and by that point, half of parliament, snub you publicly for such a thing.” Yalin added as Agnes and Richard looked worriedly to each other while they flushed with shame as Agnes and Richard both scrambled to find an excuse as they both instantly regretted everything they had said all evening and wishing they could take it all back and knew that the next time they got to speak with you, they would have to apologize and take it back and humble themselves before you, which was an act they loathed but it would save their skin. To gain a duchy in the future, they would make peace with being humble now. 

“Well you see we did that because every suitor the Sultana does not go after is a suitor we can have for our sweet Jane, we were not trying to snub half the court, we were simply trying to keep the best of the best for our own dear sweet Jane, that is all, but who are we to stand in the way of love? If your Ramsey has set his heart on the Sultana, then so be it, please disregard that list and please tell the Sultana to disregard all instruction from us to withhold herself from the Dauphin, who are we to stand in the way of destiny? Please won’t you beg her on our behalf to forgive us for being so short sighted and so ignorant? Really we should have seen the Dauphin’s actions for what they were tonight, we were under the impression it was the Sultana who was pursuing the Dauphin too strongly and we didn’t want her embarrassing herself for others thinking she was too eager but we see now that was simply not the case and we will by no means stand in the way of the Dauphin and we will offer every encouragement possible to the Sultana.” Agnes quickly explained which those seemed to be the magic words that turned Gregori’s scowl into a pleased smile. 

“Excellent, with your complete cooperation and no further interference, such a thing as this list and your simple misunderstanding could easily be forgotten, be dismissed as rumor and such evidence would surely find its way into a remote, abandoned trunk somewhere in a garbage heap or be ash in a fireplace, we wouldn’t want such damning evidence fall into the wrong hands would we?” Gregori offered as he put the list back into his breast pocket of his vest under his coat as Agnes and Richard knew that as long as you agreed to Ramsey’s proposals, it would be ok and forgiven. 

“Oh, of course, we would never dream to presume to be anything but compliant.” Richard offered as Agnes nervously laughed as she nodded emphatically with her husband. 

“Then you won’t be opposed to us looking into the Sultana’s welfare while at Broadcove, then will you? Because it is Ramsey’s dearest wish that she gain halmana status, which is for English- that of a dowager, like the queen dowager, or dowager empress, which surpasses even my own status of nescia and he can’t marry a moura with a status less than sayida actually. Also there is the very curious and honestly alarming and downright shameful fact that the Sultana’s correspondence with the stables and her friends within them has gone by the wayside and even their correspondence to her has gone awry, practically vanished into thin air and there has been a complete disconnect from the Sultana to her homeland.” Yalin began. 

“According to Ramsey and the Czarina’s brothers that, even the stable masters have not heard anything from her since she wrote that she arrived safely to Broadcove immediately after the wedding, but absolutely nothing else ever since, even now at Mirador, her correspondence is going missing both too and from the stables and her friends within them, I wonder what kind of sum could be offered for every single piece of correspondence to be produced from wherever they might be at, we have investigators that are going through the Royal Mail Service as we speak, immediately dispatched the moment it was made known, in fact when it was made aware by the Czarina’s brothers and The Princesses brothers, they almost immediately pulled them both out of the ball and demanded to go home because such atrocities would never be tolerated and are demanding that such a thing be a crime punishable either in prison or public whippings and demotions which the royal family had no choice but to agree to.” Richard continued where his wife left off as Agnes and Richard gave each other a worried glance. 

“And that’s because they had to pay a hundred and fifty thousand pounds just to get the new mouras out here, which was a non refundable fee, and one that the guilty party, when they are found, could be made to pay as well should that happen and the King and Queen immediately ordered for the matter to be investigated by the best detectives in the country along with Scotland Yard who at the very mention of bribes will immediately arrest and brought to the tower and will be investigating everyone who could possibly be involved, how many letters would you think a person can write in the span of two years?” Yalin wondered aloud and smiled wider when Agnes and Richard both faltered guiltily as they both seemed to fluctuate between pale and impossibly red. 

“Of course if any of it has been ordered to be burned by either you or anyone in your household, even if that order were to be carried out within the Royal Mail Service, the royal family will have no choice but to hold you personally responsible and I believe that a sum of at least a hundred pounds up to possibly a thousand pounds, per letter, per every little piece of correspondence will be demanded from you since you are the Lord of the estate and it is you who is solely responsible for all things that happen within the estate. Especially since you are so rich, I’m inclined for the higher price, since you surely can afford it.” Gregori insisted to Richard whose eyes were about to pop out of his head and his own buttons on his waistcoat were about to pop off from the heaviness of his instant laboured breathing at such a prospect. 

“But surely you can’t imagine that we would have anything to do with her correspondence going missing. We would never dream of doing such a thing or implicating the Royal Mail Service. Such a thing is madness and to hold us responsible for other’s mistakes.” Agnes pleaded, trying not to betray her own guilt. 

“But this matter still involves the Royal Mail Service, which answers to their majesties and that they take immense pride in and is the mark of civilization in fact it was a charge of uncivilization that the Royal Mail Service was so profoundly broken that such a thing has occurred, such an oversight of one or two to go missing is understandable considering the volume, but for every single one to go missing, surely nothing but malicious intent is to blame and their royal highnesses are taking it as an affront and a personal attack and insult that a system that the monarchy put in place would fail it’s most valuable of subjects because they view that every moura in their society is a precious treasure and they immediately made that sentiment known to the Sultana and the other moura guests when they asked the Sultana about it directly and got confirmation directly from her.” Yalin countered firmly. 

“Also in talking with the Sultana just this evening, she was completely unaware that there were moura social clubs in England, much less London, and had no idea of their existence, of course the belief that if you alienate one from others that you weaken the individual is completely false, if anything, it galvanizes the individual and can have very long lasting and far reaching negative effects because it’s the socialization that makes mouras more pleasant to be around and work with, but to deprive one of socialization is abject cruelty and will be something that their majesties are also looking into as well as the stables and such accommodations will make their ways into all future contracts instead of being implied because the honor of every Englishman is now called into question that we can’t even uphold our own rule of law and contracts which the Royal Family was affronted that such a thing has obviously been failed by you, which is why they are so intent on holding you personally responsible. So really, I can’t imagine the cost the royal family will demand for each piece of correspondence.”  Gregori firmly insisted and his tone was almost snarling and had the Morrigan’s quaking in fear because he was after all, the brother to the King and had the commanding presence of his station as Yalin simply beamed proudly at her husband. 

“H..how would you know such a thing of how many pieces of correspondence?” Richard paled as Gregori and Yalin simply smiled smugly. 

“The Royal Family asked the Sultana directly to estimate how many pieces of correspondence, she estimated it in the thousands. So since it is the possibility of someone burning them, there are some magic practicing persons who can still be found, in fact they were sent for tonight during the ball and should be here in the next day or two and since the correspondances still at one point existed to begin with, they can be conjured up still. Such a thing is very costly but viable, and of course such a means can be used to pinpoint exactly who is responsible and of course if that is the case, the price for each one will double, even triple in value and be taken out of your income and out of your nobility since again, it is you who is responsible for all things at Broadcove and all your other estates and especially since it was your own servants that followed the Sultana to her new residence, they are now highly suspect as are you. And in such a case, may the gods themselves have mercy on your pocketbooks, much less your souls. And of course whoever else was involved in such a crime, is still viable to be denounced in court, all of their property go to the victim which in this case is the Sultana, and then they could be flogged, drawn and quartered in the public square, because the crime was committed against not just the Royal Mail Service but also against their majesties and a royal moura who after tonight, is closely associated with the royal family who just upon looking at her this evening have welcomed her into their fold and have gotten the nod of approval and the Queen herself said how “perfectly precious and exquisite she was, a sign of impeccable breeding”.” Gregori recited proudly. 

“Oh yes, to get that kind praise from her, there are now two diamonds this season and one of them is halfway to being securely in Ramsey’s hands, really no safer place could be found in all of the court. And Ramsey is extremely protective of what is his.” Yalin practically cooed. 

“Which Ramsey is looking to bolster up the protections for mouras in general, so that any abuse whatsoever will never be tolerated no matter the soil they stand on and no matter the status of the moura in question and of course we will also have to investigate all of your relation, for any evidence and any dishonesty will also have the same outcome. As we speak, Scotland Yard are on their way to your estate at Broadcove and to all of your other houses along with a special team of investigators who have come in from Dorierra just for the occasion. And any interference on your part will have some very serious, grave consequences.” Gregori warned. 

“But of course, if you and your family are innocent, then you have nothing to worry about, just keep on encouraging the Sultana towards our Ramsey.” Yalin encouraged sweetly. 

“Of course, of course.” Richard and Agnes shakily agreed. 

“Goodnight then, safe travels, also if either you or any of your family try to flee the country, you will be hunted and brought back and imprisoned in the Tower of London and absolute guilt will be assumed and a public trial will immediately ensue and all details will be printed in every newspaper from here to Dorierra.” Gregori offered lowly as he stuck his head into the window to be eye to eye with Richard before he pulled his head out and patted the carriage and told the driver to drive the Morrigan’s home as Agnes nearly fainted. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to start screaming at each other?” Yalin murmured as she and her husband waived them off and watched as the carriage drove away from their home. 

“Oh they’ll probably wait until after they leave the gate.” Gregori mused with a chuckle. 

“Have I told you that nothing is sexier to me than watching you flex your own power My Love?” Yalin cooed to Gregori. 

“You can show me.” Gregori purred into his wife’s ear before he started kissing down from her ear down her neck which got her to giggle and gave her gooseflesh. 

“Oh Gregori.” Yalin sighed dreamily as she pulled him into the palace.  

“And?” Ramsey asked as you and Jane stood in the foyer with everyone else as you introduced Jane to all of your friends from the stables after Bennie and Calla had introduced their own brothers to Jane and the Voyambi’s as you were sure all of the Voyambi sisters were staring in awed wonder at Calla’s and Bennie’s brothers because they had never seen more handsome men in all their lives as even Kiera was hard pressed to find a single fault in them and staring at one had her ignoring every grudge she had accumalated against mouras. 

“Well they didn’t sing like canaries, but we sure did dangle the carrot and practically walked themselves into a box to get it. And they will not be an obstacle anymore.” Gregori beamed happily. 

“But we will still be pursuing it right?” Ramsey asked.

“Oh absolutely, they’re incredibly guilty and if Scotland Yard is on it, they won’t return without results, it’s probable cause at this point, and the fact that they made the Sultana sign a nondisclosure is proof that something very serious and most likely, very dangeorus to the Morrigan family name and honor transpired and I know the Morrigans will do anything to keep it buried and concealed, including continuing to pay the Sultana’s living after her marraige to you of course, and that dowry will set this family up nicely, give us a good chance to build for a glorious future, and with your verile seed in her young and ready womb, you’ll be father to a future King or Queen, because with the Sultana’s bloodline, that will keep us well out of too much inbreeding within the family. And give the DeuSavance’s a run for their money and give them some competition to put their heirs on that throne.” Gregori reassured his son with a firm clasp on the shoulder as Ramsey nodded nervously. 

“It’s certain that the game is afoot and I’m wondering how many delightfully juicy scandalous things we’ll uncover and it would be a shame if any or all of it made it into the papers after it’s settled, everyone does love a good scandal after all, we will need some good gossip after all this business.” Yalin giggled as Gregori chuckled. 

“For now, I think it best we keep the Sultana here for as long as we are keeping the Czarina and the Princess and of course we should keep the young Countess Morrigan here as well, since the Sultana insists on her innocence. We can’t go upsetting the Sultana now can we?” Yalin suggested to Gregori. 

“I agree. It’s going to be a full house.” Gregori cooed before they decided to address the group. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for accepting our invitations, Sultana, you especially are more than welcome to stay here at Windsor for as long as the Princess and the Czarina are here as well, we know it’s been a very long time since you were with your friends and we want you to enjoy their company as much as you can.” Yalin announced as beamed a happy smile. 

“Thank you, your excellencies!” You readily called back as Calla and Bennie were both on either side of you, all three of you hugging each other tightly. 

“Also, we understand that the differences between Dorierra culture and English culture are stark and can be jarring, which is why for the six weeks the Dorierrans are here, the first two weeks will be spent in the Dorierra ways the following two weeks we will slowly shift from Dorierra manners to proper English manners and the last two weeks will be spent in English manners so that should any or all of the moura brides choose to stay, you will know what’s expected of you, also for our English guests, I petition you to keep an open mind and not take any offense in the difference in manners and culture but be respectful, and of course what happens here at Windsor stays at Windsor.” Gregori announced as all the Dorierrans beamed happily and excited smiles at each other. 

“With that being said, it is quite late and we all should get some sleep. However if we may have a private word with Sultana Audravienne,” Yalin urged before the housekeepers came and took the group to their rooms that had been prepared for them as you bravely walked up to them. 

“We just had a private word with Richard and Agnes Morrigan and they beg your forgiveness for advising you against the Dauphin and misunderstanding his actions and attributing them to you. They also agreed to no longer be a hindrance or an obstacle for you.” Gregori relayed which made you frown. 

“May I ask what induced them to change their opinion?” You asked as you looked from Gregori to Yalin. 

“Once they were made aware of Ramsey’s intentions towards you.” Yalin answered. 

“I see, well, then their apology is accepted. Thank you so much for letting me know.” You thanked them before you curtsied again respectfully and returned to the group. 

“What was that all about?” Jane asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.” You promised her as you were shown your own room as you stole away in it and breathed in relief when you were finally alone as you happily stripped out of your clothes and slipped into your night gown and collapsed on the comfortable bed and barely got under the covers before you heard something click open which made your eyes snap open before you pulled a shall around you. If it was Ramsey you were going to lose your patience and beat him off with a candelabra. You couldn’t take another minute of him tonight. 

“Who’s there?” You demanded because you sensed you weren’t alone anymore.

“It’s just us, Ramsey told us of the secret passages in this place, we wanted to talk to you without other eyes and ears listening and watching.” Calla informed you in marinai as she and Bennie came out from a secret door in the wall in the corner. 

“Well come on in, the water is nice.” You laughed in relief before Calla and Bennie both climbed into the bed with you, leaving a candle by the secret door but otherwise left the other on the night stand as you hugged each other tightly. 

“It’s so good to see you again.” Calla sniffled into your shoulder as you held her the tightest while Bennie hugged your back as three of you cuddled together in the bed. 

“It’s good to see you too, and it’s great to see the boys too, I never knew how precious my time with my siblings was while I was at home, now, seeing them, makes me wish I could see my own brothers. I would give anything to see them again, even Axal.” You confessed as Calla finally withdrew from you as you all laid on your backs, admiring the mural on the ceiling. 

“Why is a country so obsessed with propriety, show nothing but nudes on their ceilings?” Bennie asked. 

“Psh, I don’t know, I’ve been here two years and English culture makes just as much sense to me as it probably does to either of you, which isn’t a whole lot.” You admitted as you burned with wanting to tell them more but you promised Ramsey that you wouldn’t. But at the same time, you couldn’t scare them off with horror stories just as they are getting here and getting to know these people, part of you still held out hope that your experience was a Morrigan thing, not an English thing. 

“I broke into the stable master’s office.” Calla suddenly blurted out which made you and Bennie snicker a laugh. 

“Why would you do such a thing?” You asked her. 

“To read the report as to why you were demoted to a shakan. I almost didn’t answer the call to come here but once we found out it was to London and that you would be present, I couldn’t say no, not hearing from you, most of us have assumed the worst and with all correspondence to you going missing, because your parent’s health has declined dramatically since your demotion, when they demanded to know why they got different answers each time they asked, one was “it was in your contract not to return” another was “she has no wish to return” one even claimed that you requested that demotion so that you couldn’t return, which was clearly a lie, no one knows what to think.” Calla confessed as you guiltily bit your tongue. 

“So what happened?” Calla pressed and you knew you would have to chose your words very, very carefully. 

“While it is true that it was in my contract with Edward that he bought me outright and that when I survived him, I was free to do as I pleased, he afforded me a living of 15 thousand pounds a year, which is a very comfortable sum of money a year and more than enough to live on and I’ve managed to save a good portion of it, I’m able to live in comfort and peace with a whole house of my own. And if I were to go back to the stables, the cycle would just begin anew and I have no heart or stomach for it. I’m content with where I’m at and what I have. Besides, Edward stated in his will that when and if I choose to remarry, it will be love and I have every intention of honoring his wishes because they are my own.” You calmly answered. 

“So why did the contract with Richard state that he would pay you thirty thousand a year?” Calla asked with a deep frown. 

“Because of what transpired between him and I while I was married to Edward. If you read it then you know I can’t talk about it because it’s a non-disclosure. I’m surprised you came if you read it.” You returned. 

“Ok, but just because you signed it and can’t talk about it, Calla, spill the beans, all the beans, I need to know now.” Bennie insisted as she sat up in bed and stared determinedly at Calla. 

“Edward went mad shortly after Audra’s marriage to him. I consulted the new medical books after I read it, he had dementia, which is becoming common among the older ones and with dementia, comes aggression and violence, Audra suffered greatly at Edward’s hands. But Richard forbade Audra from telling anyone for fear of “tarnishing” the family honor.” Calla answered. 

“And that’s why Richard doubled my yearly living, to buy my silence.” You sighed tiredly. 

“But the Morrigans are rich, they could have hired doctors and nurses and caretakers to take care of Edward in that state.” Bennie argued. 

“At first Edward did, but the more mad he became and the worse he got, the more the nurses demanded to care for him and instead of paying it, Richard dismissed them and viewed me as his already bought and paid for nurse and companion. But his decline was out of my depth. And all Richard did was imprison us both into Broadcove, I couldn’t reach out to anyone, even my messengerari wouldn’t work or reach out to anyone. He had some kind of disruptor in the house. But thankfully I was able to get some insurance against him, so that if he ever decides to stop paying for my silence, I can have a measure of revenge, so you see, never again will I ever be anyone’s pawn or play thing. And never again will I ever tolerate abuse of any kind. If I am to remarry it will be for love, no madness, no abuse, no control over me, no secrets, no intrigue, no disloyalty or unfaithfulness, I am a free woman, I do not answer to anyone and I have freedom. And I can’t go back to my old life, I refuse. I would rather be a free shakan than a caged nescia, no matter how big or gilded the cage may be. Even as one as nice as this palace. All I want is someone to love me for me, even as broken and jaded as I am, who won’t look at me and see wealth, or my dowry or even look at me and desire me for the sole reason that I am a moura, but will see just me, and be content with that.” You insisted sleepily as all three of you got comfortable cuddled together.

“Then I hope you get what you wish for.” Calla insisted sleepily too before all three of you drifted off to sleep. 

Meanwhile Demsey stared up at his own ceiling and huffed indignantly because he knew he was already beaten. How could his own estate of Whydahh had no hope of competing with the palace of Windsor. It had a hard enough time competing with Mirador and that was only because it had been built in just the last ten years and had all new, modern convenciences. His own London townhouse of Graveston didn’t really compare to Mirador at all. The Dauphin had...well everything, he was royalty for crying out loud and outranked him. What did he have that the Dauphin didn’t? What could he possibly offer a woman of taste and refinement and accomplishment such as yourself that the Dauphin couldn’t offer twice or three times over? Other than his own love, care and devotion? But call him a hopeless romantic, he wanted to try to woo you anyway. He had watched you all night and you didn’t give one genuine smile to the Dauphin all evening. You were polite but still so subdued. According to Amara when she too had followed you into the bathroom, you couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace. And Lady Whitesale was so rude to Amara and all of his sisters. Before she had purposefully tried to befriend them as “sisters” but now that that seemingly was no longer a possibility, she immediately showed her own true colors to them and had turned all the other orc women in the court against them and had them shunned once they took up company with the jewel orc mouras. But what really sold him on you was how gracious you were in your own perceived defeat. You were still so kind and treated everyone in his family so wonderfully and respectfully and engaged with all of them while they were waiting in the foyer, especially his younger siblings. And even though Kiera had been begrudged against you, you were still kind to considerate to her. You were above reproach and you proved with your words and actions what an excellent woman you were and what he would give if he knew it wouldn’t start a scandal or call into question your own honor of just going to room and confessing all of his feelings to you this moment. 

But as tempting as that sounded. That would surely insult your honor and compromise you, plus it would be unkind. He knew just by looking at you, that you were beyond exhausted. And having battled Ramsey’s affections all night and dodging the Morrigans meanness, it would be too much to try to battle his own advancements if you didn’t return them. You looked like you were ready to bolt out of the Morrigan’s carraige and you had sadly looked so relieved to even see Ramsey rescue you from their company, he wondered if you would have looked at him with equal relief if he had been the one to get to you first, but sadly he had been helping his Ma’ma out of her carriage. 

But at the ball, just as you were leaving his side for the brief moment he was able to steal you away for, the way you held his hand, even for as brief of a moment as it was that evening, that simple touch had conveyed so much that words never could, but even now, he couldn’t put words to it’s meaning as he traced the outline your hand had been on his own hand, he almost didn’t want to wash his hands for fear it would wash your magical touch off, while it was true that the gold plague had ridden mouras of their magic, he could almost sense that at least a little bit still lived in you, it had sent the most delightful electric shocks through his whole being and had his soul craving more contact, just another touch, another glance, another anything. But Ramsey blocked him, all night. But despite Ramsey’s best efforts, the few looks you shared, especially over dinner, he was sure he saw longing and affection and dare he hope desire in your eyes when you looked at him. It had him feeling like you were the only woman at that ball that existed, let alone that mattered. 

That being said he was keen to see you behave the way you were raised to and wondered what kind of differences there was between Dorierran customs and English ones. His brothers had talked about the Dorierran national sport, something that involved flaming swords. If he got to see you weilding a flaming sword, the Dauphin be damned, he was going to probably fall head over heels in love with you and probably propose to you as soon as he could. because at least in orcish culture, weapons were sacred and a shieldmaiden weilding a sword or a battle ax was seen as the epitome of sexy. Of course just thinking about it had his shaft rock hard, again, great, something else to satisfy again before he could get some sleep. 

[minminambus]

81 with minimegs! (Sg or normal, whichever u want!)

I chose to do SG Minimegs! This is a little bit of a different storyline than my SG Lost Light AU, but it’s still got the angst. >:3c

Megatron’s habsuite was a jail cell. His berth was just a bench that he could easily fall off of if he sat the wrong way. Heavy stasis cuffs were fit on his wrists. Their weight was nearly overwhelming for the mech. He should have been able to handle it — he would have been! — but it sent him slouching forward. He couldn’t find the energy in himself to lift his servos for a long period of time, so they, along with the cuffs, simply rested on his knees. It was much easier. He couldn’t tell where he was. His internal navigation systems were disabled when he was put in this disaster of a new frame. There was no way around it, this frame was damned. It was the work of Perceptor and Ratchet, why wouldn’t it be damned? Megatron could fully list all the things that bothered him about it, but one thing stood out the most; the fact that his wings were stripped away and replaced with much smaller appendages. They were simply dull pieces of metal, like the rest of his frame. The Autobots didn’t even given him the mercy of having paint on him. The absence of his glowing, blue wings bothered him so much, it itched at his sensors more than the poisons forced into his energon lines. Before he could go into the spiral of despair about that, Megatron heard a sound. In the silence of the surrounding jail cells, it was difficult to miss any sort of noise.

His helm snapped up, turning to the source of the sound. Doors sliding open. A familiar sound. Little footsteps followed, echoing through the halls. Whoever it was wasn’t in a hurry, that was for sure. Megatron straightened his posture, not ready to look weak in front of an Autobot. He’d already been beaten, taken as a prisoner, and branded with purple. He didn’t need to add any more insult to injury by looking all dejected and miserable as he really was inside.

Once the other mech came into view, Megatron’s ember dropped. The bot was busy jotting things down on a datapad and didn’t catch sight of Megatron yet. Megatron didn’t want to know what his reaction would be. He just wanted to sink into the wall at this point. He usually wasn’t a mech to avoid confrontation… but this was a special case. A dreadfully special case.

Despite his apprehension, Megatron could not look away from the little bot. He was barely a third of Megatron’s height, and that seemed to be where the grand amount of familiarity ended. The bot was pink. Megatron wouldn’t have expected anything less from him, but this was a lighter pink than what Megatron had seen on him a millennia ago. It was a tad bit muted. He had swirling biolights on his frame, each of them casting a faint fuchsia glow. Instead of an optic-catching black as a secondary color, he chose a deep grey. At least, it seemed that way in the dim lighting of the jail cell. The insignia on his faceplates allowed no room for error in assuming who he was. This minibot in front of Megatron, only separated from him by the glowing purple bars of the cell, was none other than Minimus Ambus.

And that was what made Megatron’s ember lurch. It was painful to even look at him. The minibot opened his mouth to speak, not taking his eyes off his datapad. He looked so tired. Perhaps Megatron shouldn’t have cared after what Minimus had done to him so long ago, but he couldn’t help it. It was painful to even look at him.

“Alright, so you must be the new arrival here on th—” The minibot had chosen to look up mid-sentence and seemed to have lost his words. Wide golden optics met dim red, almost like they were trapped there. Minimus nearly had flinched back at the sight of Megatron. “Oh by Unicron’s goodness, it’s you,” he finally said, breathless.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Megatron murmured, his tone far harsher than he meant it to be. His vocalizer felt heavy in his throat.

“Ah, well, maybe some other high profile Decepticon, but not exactly you, hon. It’s a real surprise! Would’ve thought that Optimus would have kept you for himself. Anyway, I’ve got to write up something to tell Rodimus, because some mech decided not to tell us that we were getting the Decepticon leader on board.”

Minimus’ tone was cheery, and most likely falsely so. Megatron had known the mech for a long enough time to know when his joy was real or fake. Megatron hadn’t seen him for a millennia, so he was stunned. Minimus tapped away at his datapad, glancing up and asking the occasional question. Megatron numbly answered, because there was really nothing left to hide anymore. The Decepticon brand was quite literally ripped from his chest. He had no allies, no friends. Nothing. It was all gone.

He finally roused himself from the icy numbness though, to look Minimus in the optics for a second time. It was time for a question of his own. He felt icy and cold, and if he was interrupting Minimus’ chatter, he wouldn’t even have known. It was so unlike him, but there was too much fog in his processor for him to care.

“Do you…” he considered the wording for a moment. “...Remember the moment you left me alone and broke every promise you ever made?”

“Darling—” Such an empty word now— “I’d thought you had known that I’m not a mech of many promises. I couldn’t have made any promises anyway, if you remember the situation.”

Megatron did. Quite vividly. He and Minimus had started dating shortly before the war really began — after Megatron’s exile, before the Autobots took the Senate. They had fallen for each other fast, it was like an object pulled by gravity, falling fast and hard. Perhaps it was far too fast to have been true. The end of what they had was fast, and if the previous comparison serves as anything, it landed like gravity had pulled it all the way down from a balcony.

They were having a simple drink together, when Minimus, in a hushed voice, told Megatron that his whole family wanted him dead. Not much of a surprise, considering they were from the depths of Iacon. The minibot had passed Megatron a drink — he took it and sipped it as Minimus explained. It was far too sweet for Megatron’s liking, but that’s how Minimus made most of his drinks. Megatron didn’t complain, especially with the solemn look in Minimus’ optics. Then came the question. If it came down to it, would Megatron want to be killed by Minimus’s family or by the minibot himself. He was dumbfounded that Minimus would even suggest something of that sort! Minimus had insisted that he hated the Autobot ideology so why—?

Then Megatron had blacked out before he could even answer him. There was something in his energon, oh god. Minimus had— Had he—? Did Minimus poison him?! Megatron couldn’t believe it when he had woken up in an alley with his ember racing at a pace too fast to be natural, and with a gang of Autobots running towards him. Luckily he escaped with his life. He couldn’t bring himself to comm Minimus after that.

Back to the present, away from the memories — away from the sweet taste of engex, away from the gentle, lingering touches, away from the love they once had — Megatron simply nodded at Minimus.

Bouncing his stylus between his digits, Minimus stared at Megatron.

“So you’d remember the little thing about… oh… how you aren’t dead?” he asked, “That would be a hard thing to forget, I bet.”

A tone that used to bring a smile to Megatron’s face angered him instead. He knew something was wrong with his systems and coding to make him go to coldness and anger first, but that knowledge didn’t give him any reign over the feelings. With a sudden, shuddering burst of strength, Megatron stood, towering over the minibot. Only the glowing bars of the cell stood between them.

“You. Tried. To kill me!” he growled.

Minimus merely took once step back, the movement being the only show of fear. Minimus tutted him, giving a few clicks of the glossa. “If I wanted you dead, there would have been no ‘tried!’ You would be! Since the one upside about this ship is the fact that my family isn’t obsessing over every rule I break, let me tell you something. Come closer. Down.”

He pointed to the ground, waiting with the tapping of a pede. Megatron was helpless to disobey him. Not because of the chemicals or modifications of his frame. Not because of his past fondness for the minibot. It was because of the deep contradiction between the minibot’s commanding tone and the softness in his optics. On his knees, the cuffs lightly scraping the floor, he wasn’t even eye-level with Minimus. He still had to lean down. A small pink servo reached between the bars. Purple electricity hopped along Minimus’ wrist cabling, but he didn’t seem affected at all. He touched Megatron’s cheek with surprising gentleness, and the larger mech couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“If I didn’t do that, then what do you think Dominus would have done, dear? Think about that, for a little while. I just know you’re going to have that kind of time here. I’ve got to tell Rodimus about our new arrival — I bet he’ll be delighted to have you here.”

And just like that, the hand on his face was gone, and Minimus was walking away. So abrupt. So sudden. And yet it was like the servo on his cheek left an imprint, like it burned — no, branded — him — with a new sort of symbol. He watched Minimus until he disappeared from view, and listened to his footsteps like it was a symphony. Megatron stayed kneeling, his processor and ember racing and… and…

He heard the door open once more, and Minimus called out to him before he was completely gone, “Ta-ta!”

Damn it. Megatron been wrong all these years.