#✩ ╱ visage. — ❛ diamond mind.

[makeshistory]

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 :  𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒                ———                𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 , 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡 . 𝑠𝑜 𝑖 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑚 , 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 . 

REGGIE KRAY : 

◜⠀ ic | reggie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   if heaven is a place where the angels go then i know i’m going straight to hell  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ visage | reggie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i am a plethora of blood ﹔  warm shadows， i want to feel holy  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ musings | reggie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   surely some revelation is at hand ﹔   surely the second coming is at hand  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ study | reggie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i am coloured glass from a church window long since shattered  ﹗ ◞

RONNIE KRAY : 

◜⠀ ic | ronnie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   after the wolf was done eating the lamb ﹔   it gnawed its bone to dust  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ visage | ronnie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   half gods are worshiped in wine and flowers ﹔   real gods require blood  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ study | ronnie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i have never been allowed to be holy， i have never been forgiven for wanting  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ musings | ronnie kray  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i regret no sin i have committed， for to be wicked is to be alive  ﹗ ◞

FRANCES SHEA : 

◜⠀ ic | frances shea  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   she laughs like god her mind’s like a diamond ﹔   audiotune lies， she’s   still   shining  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ visage | frances shea  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   you carry the heavens in your eyes like one of those old greek tragedies  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ study | frances shea  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i remember wishing i could be boiled like water and made pure again  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ musings | frances shea  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   i carry along a feel of unease ﹔   i want to belong like the birds in the trees  ﹗ ◞

CONNECTIONS : 

◜⠀ con | reggie & ronnie  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   tell me why are we so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me  ﹗ ◞

◜⠀ con | frances & reggie  —⠀⠀ ،،̲   even though you’re killing me， i need you like the air i breathe  ﹗ ◞

[shadowseveron]

tag dump ;

[monogramic]

tag drop pt 1.

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ couldn’t be at home in the nighttime because it made her feel alone.  — verse 001. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ toss your dirty shoes in her washing machine heart.  — verse 002. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ control freak driven by a greed to succeed.  — verse 003. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ she’s such a good kitty. won’t put up fights.  — aesthetic. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ she laughs like god. her mind’s like a diamond.  — mentality. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ life was a willow & it bent right to your wind.  — mannerisms. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ she’ll be the beauty queen in tears.  — physicality. ❜  

🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ everybody get your necks to crack around. — visage. ❜ 

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ your image overwhelms her brain. & it feels good.  — infatuations. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ tonight i’m gonna give you all my love in the backseat.  — desires. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ sweet like honey lavender. keep on running back to her.  — wardrobe. ❜  

#🩰 ⋆｡ ❛ she’s been big & small & big & small again.  — headcanons. ❜  

#♡ ⋆｡ ❛ balsamic vinegar! that’s a big word for elmo.  — ooc. ❜  

[luckyscratch]

tag dump.

[crystaldivination]

𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃. 𝗕𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 🖤♠️🗝️♟️🕷️⛓️

"Boss bitch" - Doja Cat playing

"I’m a bitch, I’m a boss. I’m a bitch and a boss, I'ma shine like gloss."

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭

♥︎ ♥︎

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚 · 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 ♱ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 ♱ 🚬

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐎𝐍𝐄

sweeties you’re a force to be reckoned with! You don’t know challenges. You don’t know the word “STOP” — in fact, there’s no stop sign for you. Giving up is not an option for you. You know your strength and you persist. Once you laid your eyes on something or someone you want, the only thing that you can see is “i’m gonna get it” as if you’re the hunter who has found its prey. People are fearful of your drive, honey. You’re the definition and embodiment of -unstoppable-. A task too hard for you? —impossible. With that brain of yours, no one can outdo and that’s for a fact. Witty at the start and improvisation at play when necessary though nothing without a plan. Master at creativity. ideas that don’t seem to lack and a presence marked by charm enough to fascinate anyone. Visage looking fine as hell but on top of that ease is your second name. You never seem to stress ‘cause everything is just effortless for you. You’re a natural. Humble and unpretentious all the time yet not to be underestimated at all time. You never let them get a hold of you. Mind game on point while you just inevitably happen to unable to be read. so foolish of anyone to believe in the blank face you present ‘cause that poker face skills is not to be played with yet every time they get trapped by not able to learn from it. How come you make it so hard for anyone to know your next move without even intending to do so? maybe, it’s a talent. Quiet confidence and letting the result speak for itself might be the strategy. The secret to your power? —well after all, isn’t it obvious? Winning by being just oneself. No one is you and that’s your power. No one can even come near that. Uniqueness prevails. disrespect will be punished. You need to know your place!

bonita perra! 💸

𝐓𝐖𝐎

queens & kings, there’s not much to say if I’m being honest. Never have I seen so much calmness and control in someone like you. You won the idgaf game! All the inner knowing that everything will turn out in your favour anyway is hot. Your energy shows it all. You trust and believe in yourself like that’s the only thing you’ve ever known — you finessed it to say the least. Indeed it was you alone who has built yourself up to who you’re now, isn’t that true? you decided and did. Dropped all the bullshit to focus on you and what matters most to you. Your wisdom comes from letting go of what hurt you and the things that no longer serve you. You make yourself your top priority. Let go of the past and now you know that you’re that bitch who is not to be messed with. You didn’t cross over that bridge for nothing, I hear you. Self love so unbreakable no one can ever shake. Greatest asset your worth that’s expensive like diamonds. You make yourself shine like stars in the sky, your light would never ever able to go out. Life is what you make it and you made yours a paradise. No one dares and is able to disturb your peace ‘cause you’re out of reach. Not even a firestorm can sway or fade you. You’re in your own lanes moving without them knowing. Too swift to be able to be caught. Exclusivity at its finest. Mind blowing values that accompany and define you forever. This is someone who knows how to stand out from the crowd by doing NOTHING — absolutely nothing but to observe. You have the eyes that speak through the soul. No need to say thousand words and be loud. People get drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy the attention but know deep down nothing beats a golden heart.

hasta la vista, baby!🍸

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

fierce like a lion, sharp like a knife. Your words cut and sting but they are nothing but the truth. Independent since birth but that’s a given. You’re your own boss. You don’t give anyone the chance to play — not when it comes to you. You know what you want. You know how to get whatever that you yet want and still not have. You know your stand and you stand your ground —something that should be obvious but not always so evident in everyone. No fear is ever greater than your own. they say “no one is your enemy, you might be your own worst enemy” —and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from functioning at your greatest. why? because you know yourself best. You wouldn’t let yourself be your own enemy. you’ve worked on yourself relentlessly —for what it’s worth it seems like. you deserve the acknowledgment. pff as if you don’t know it. this is someone who is and acts proudly of themselves. rightfully so! you have every right to do that! always willing to learn more, never stop being curious. this is what you are. you want to be the best so you have to put in the work, darling. Hard work and hustle life is not a challenge for you. To reach the peak of the mountain is not a dream for you. You have big dreams and you won’t wait for it. You don’t sit around when you know you can climb. you’re nobody's baby and possess an individuality so strong it’s called impeccability. You do it yourself because you know you can master it yourself. An immaculate mind that can turn heads so why searching for ways to prove it or impress anyone when all you need to do is to do it for yourself, right? You don’t want to be king of the so called fixed “class”. You want to be yourself. Now your life can only get better but you’re not one to be satisfied easily so you keep moving until you realized every desires of yours. Feral is what you are and one of your trademark.

xoxo, badass 📞🖤

stay bad & on fleek, lil baddies !

—crystal

© 2023 crystaldivination ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited.

[fukashiin]

catching them staring at you + catching you staring at them

— w. heartslabyul and octavinelle

⤷ a heart forgets caution when you're around.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

when you catch him staring at you.

doused in the celestial light that streams down from the unforgiving heavens, riddle ogles at you, jaw-slacked, as if a monument breathed its way back to life to grace him with its mythical beauty forged by the hands of god. who could blame him when you're both sat on the window ledge, admiring the endless skies that descends onto the earth, gleaming patches of foliage and sea shores that befalls on to the earthly soil.

"are you going to keep staring at me like that? it's getting embarrassing." you cup the plump cheeks that grows heated under the eyes of riddle as every second passes by, wondering if he's even taking in what you just said. you try your hardest to ignore the great turmoil that churns in your stomach as you await his response.

"ah-" he squeaks, "my..apologies. i was lost in thought." he and you both knew he wasn't.

he's neck-deep in the sloshing waters of his thoughts that he calls you. he wishes he could run—maybe even teeter a bit—when the thought, scent, and touch of you pops up in his mind and overflows the rest of it that lingered with the austere memories of his mother and countless magic-driven tomes.

but you were his salvation. the impalpable warrior to his raging nightmares and daydreams that he wishes he could just run away with. away from the peering eyes and faraway roars that submerges him deep into the boundless chasms of the earth.

but you ground him. bring him back onto the surface where you exist.

"you're super cute." you admit and try to siffle another giggle that rides up your throat when a cloudy pink appears onto his cheeks. "where could that have possibly come from?" he bites back, trying and failing to sound as threatening as he could. luckily for you, he doesn't have the heart to do that to the person he very much cherishes.

"it's okay," breathing out a few of the last words that you wanted only riddle to hear, you pull him in by his collar, grabby hands that yearns for the taste of his mouth, and pull him in for a kiss, excited for the future trysts you were about to have with him after this one. "you can stare at me for as long as you'd like."

CATER DIAMOND

when you catch him staring at you.

prolific accounts that roam free across the surface of magicam, cohesive influencers that collaborate to garner a larger audience and fans worldwide for the sake of being seen. but cater doesn't, and can't see that in you.

with his chin resting in the sweaty palms of his hands, he twirls a smooth tendril of his ginger hair and swirling fake mustaches atop of his mouth while he stares at you from afar beneath all the humdrum. there you were, jotting your notes away. skin rubbing against the lined-paper and your hair rustling at the slightest motion of your head across your clothed shoulders.

a picture-perfect visage that rivals those of widely-admired artisans' works of the centuries. one that battles face-to-face with the soaring sunsets and the routinely pruned rose bushes that he thought were pretty enough that pools filled with models and mascara could never compare. but you—apparently could?

"is something the matter?" the sudden capture of his gaze veers his mind into another state of panic. what options of recourse would there be now that you caught him red-handed?

he balked at the idea of you teasing him. "nothing! nothing at all, promise." he conveys a clear thumbs up when he catches you raising a doubtful brow, a captor questioning the suspect when the chances of getting out of his slippery mire was close to zero. you mumble a barely audible okay and slide back into your usual activities.

shortly afterwards, a moment-long snap! sharply cuts through the tense air like a butter knife that slices through a block of butter.

you whip your head towards the sound, as you see cater suspended in the position he was situated in. phone in hands, eyes wide and fidgety. a shoddy attempt to take a picture of you.

"..oops?"

TREY CLOVER

when he catches you staring at him.

splat! thick blotches of cake batter splatters onto the nearby table, tarnishing its reflective surface from the sticky mixture that subsisted off of beaten-up eggs and flour. trey halts and lowers his arm, trying to gauge the untimely situation that unfurled right in front of him then and there. his mixture developed under the guidance of his handy spatula sits untouched, weirdly so.

"y/n?" he calls out your name, purposing himself to walk towards the area you were just standing at. he tries to swat away any thoughts that clouded his mind, namely, you in danger. he loves and spoils you too much, even the hot breaths that fanned against the shell of your ears tighten your chest, wanting more and more.

"t-trey!" seemingly, there's nothing wrong. but an explanation should be out of the question. "uh.."

he places a defined hand on your shoulder, depriving you of any other idealistic excuses to fling his way. you chew the seams of your lips, squirming internally and at yourself to recall any past methods to make use of in the current situation that took ahold of your entire body. "staring at my arms again?"

"don't blame me!" retorting as quick as a bullet train, you raise your arms up in failing defence when he catches you, again—for staring at those forearms of his. the natural stature he possesses does nothing but floods out the rest of the sanity your were desperately holding on to.

a hearty chuckle bubbles up his throat and he lets it out like the dear he is. what an old man.

"be good for me and get the dish cloth that's hanging just right about there, okay?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

when he catches you staring at him.

"did not!"

as the heated tension crackles in the air, ace points an accusatory finger towards you in an attempt to burgle a reasonable defence out of you. so what if you were gawking so shamelessly at the way he threads his fingers through his hair, how post-match sweat dripped at the tip of his chin, the very picture of indulgence. anyone would've buckled their knees at the sight of that. "you'll need something more concrete than that, babe."

effusions of longing clung onto the weight of your heart, weaving through past memories and times you've spent with him as your presence travels back in time. miscalculated opportunities clawed your mind with an animalistic touch, summoning something much deeper hence a bitter aftertaste.

something in you snaps.

ace tries to hide down his upcoming laughter when he inches his face closer to yours, heaving breaths that ignite a spark of forbidden electricity which surges through your entire system, eliciting a tiny yelp out of you. you clench and release your aching hands, hungering for the featherlight touch of his lips soothing against yours. your mouth suddenly feels lonely.

"but, i like that." he strokes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, "you staring at me like your life depends on it. makes me feel wanted."

no more fooling around.

you both sit still in the position you were placed in. the drab air that used to cloak your beating hearts under the dim lights seems so much more needling than before. it provokes the hidden conviction that tears at the sky-high boundaries of your mind, provoking you to make the first move.

are you holding back like the way he is?

DEUCE SPADE

when you catch him staring at you.

a fiery ember singed his veins, lighting up a trail of wanton desires through his arms that leaves a state of chaos imprinted into his mind. he's fighting a one man army, trying his absolute hardest to utilise what options he could make use of at the moment, however expedient they may seem. god forsake him, while he tries to steady his breath and moisten his lips when you have your head perched on the broad of his shoulders.

he racks him mind for countless possible spiels he could come up with in a matter of seconds once you awoke from your soundless slumber, also acknowledging the fact that he may not scurry his way out under the gaze of your scrutiny.

"y/n.." he tries to prod the crown of your head, while also holding back onto the amount of persistence that laced within.

but it's so unfair.

how could you look so beautiful, drenched in the rivers of the molten sunrise where the beams fractured between your eyelashes and onto your face, a scene that sways hand-in-hand with the times where starlight illuminated your dancing figures on the beach's seashore, waves of glitter and sea findings gifted by the depths of the deep that rides up to your ankles.

how could he not catch his breath when his eyes settled on you?

his gaze lingers on for a little while longer before the scrunch of your nose brings him back to reality. the ends of your lips take a small upturn at how easy it was to fool a man like him. he wishes he weren't so oblivious the way he is the next moment.

"i know you're staring, deuce."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

when you catch him staring at you.

as if a vortex was sucking him in, blurred implications and foggy amazement was embedded into his mind at the unrealism of your beauty while you glanced up at the swerving fishes and sea creatures manoeuvring side to side. his fingers twitched, longing for the contact of your skin flushed against his, as he pulls you in for a kiss.

he can't get the turmoil that thundered in his head out. him being with the person who dipped his heart in a pool of gold, who acted as a lifelong sentry that shielded him from the outside world and threats that dared to come forth? unthinkable.

but here you were. standing with him, stood in an aquarium nestled deep beneath the murky waters of the sea, just as he offered. you probably wouldn't think that the sea would publish any aquariums, but every once in a while, he wanted to take the time off to showcase a few of the treasuries that anyone had yet to find out about.

your skin was riddled with the gentlest touch of blue, crystal-clear as the skies of the day where the rain was no more. the sight of something so ethereal, standing before him, etched onto his mind where the rising filth of his past lived in.

you glance to the side and catch him, still as a statue. and he's brought back to reality, by something as simple as the lovely timbre of your voice. you hope he's ready for the teasing that waits to ambush him when you two get back to the dorms. "azul! what're those called?"

"hm..?" he pushes the bridge of his spectacles up again, adjusting it so he could take a good look at what you were pointing at. you could say he's pleasantly surprised. "ah, those?"

he takes a step forward and joins you in on your inspection. "they're what i call you, angelfish."

JADE LEECH

when you catch him staring at you.

"you're the perfect muse fitted for this task, i thank you greatly."

you were specially chosen as a muse for the latest art project that recently pounced on him last minute, grief to the forgotten research of the latest species of mushroom that had yet to come out as anything else other than nebulous. that only beckoned him to finish this particular task, first.

"will you angle your face just a bit to the left, dear?"

you abided, and tilted your sun-kissed face to where he was jerking his head at. there you were, perched on top of a criss-cross picnic blanket while graced with a multitude of luscious fruits sitting by your side, as you held up freshly-picked strawberries between the different width of your fingers. dressed in a flowy outfit beautified in frills and lace, and different pearls ornamented across your neck that draped over your collarbone.

jade had his easel brought from home rested amongst the tall grass, sketchpad in its stand and pencil in the movement of his hand. few times where smudged pencil led smeared against the side of his palm, few times where he lost focus by the sight of you.

the beaming rays of the sun that smiled upon your skin and kissed it with its blinding light, as you bathe in the balmy weather that shone across large patches of grass and buildings alike.

jade was in love.

he halts his sketching duties for a few moments, luxuriating in the mere sight of you, how you hold yourself, how you reminded him of summer romances and tender play-fights underneath the bed sheets. how, you were so otherwordly.

it's almost criminal how someone as beautiful as you can exist in this tainted world—so much that he doesnt realise the eyes that strayed away from his work and onto the heated flesh of your face. you notice the loss of the sound of rough sketching against the paper, and gradually looked at jade as your eyes met his.

"laying a little thick on the staring there, don't you think?"

and just like that, everything that was properly arranged, from the resting sketchpad—to the different mediums placed in a metal tin nearby—winds up tumbling to the ground. himself included.

welp.

FLOYD LEECH

when he catches you staring at him.

floyd takes multiple sideswipes across the court, weaving through hurdles of opponents that tried but miserably failed to take down his figure that charged through burdening people from the opposing team. he makes a startling turn to the rear, bolts his legs off the ground and leaps as high as how Hermes was in his prime, quick and furious as the raging wind.

he lands with a loud blow, and the stadium breaks out in an undying state of pandemonium.

you've heard rumours of how high floyd can jump that abounded between the school walls—it was even mentioned to be near-comedic, but he snatched your breath away, crumbled it beneath his feet and razed the entire city to the ground until mere rubble and shards of glass was all that was left. theoretically—if he actually wanted to.

and you can't help but gawk. at the tall stature that yielded victory in his hands in a glorious light, how the hem of those basketball shorts flared against his thighs as he jogs through the court, sending high-fives to his teammates and accidentally striking jamil in the head.

oh, how such a rare moment presented to you makes you want to spurt in his direction and throw your arms around his body.

you sat there, awestruck by his beauty that ensconced you in its presence. a rush of blood warms your cheek, as you slowly rose your phone up in your hands to seize the opportunity to take a recording of him basking in his splendour.

a split second later, he takes sight of you in his field of vision, emits a small snicker and calls out to you. "y/n! think fast!"

"wha-" he grabs the headband that circled his head, took it off, and flung it to where you were sat. you quickly lunged your body forward to reach out for it, fumbling with the fabric in your hands and eventually relaxed in your seat. you smiled, and wrapped it around your wrist, producing multiple layers to envelop it in the warmth.

you whisper a small "thank you" as you looked at him, the love growing in your eyes like a sprout that craved for its growth, akin to how you were trying to hold yourself back from running up to him this second. you then remember—that nothing is holding you back.

[ghouljams]

Thoughts:

Fae!Koenig is about the hunt and the wilderness and wild animals, right? And he loves claiming Leibling, right?

So, hear me out;

He's fucking Leibling, chest pressed against her back, panting and growling harshly as drool drips from his lips onto her shoulders.

His hands are clenched into fists on the bed/bench/whatever-surface-he's-managed-to-bend-her-over-this-time in front of her. Liebling can hardly breathe he's so deep.

And it feels so good. Better than normal, even. Something about the air getting hot and humid around them, she swears she can smell the forest and taste his musk.

His glamour is slipping, blurring her vision until all she can see is him, filling up every crack. And his Fae powers must be influencing her because she's never felt like this before. Feral. Animal. Wild.

He's muttering something now, pressed so firmly against her she swears they're melting together, his mouth - God, his mouth - moving against her ear. It's not English. But she doesn't think it's German, either. The syllables sound too fluid for human tongues, and yet as he babbles on she starts to parse some of it. Groaned praise. "You going to come for me?". "Going to give you everything." "Going to give you all of me,"

Something about that last phrase echoes in her mind like bells, but she can't focus on the concern because suddenly she's coming, and he's filling her up, flooding her with his hot, searing seed.

It's too much, she opens her mouth but can't muster any sound to come out. Instead, she twists her head, pulling away from him - if she were in her right mind she'd notice how unnatural the movement is, how a human body can't accommodate that kind of flexibility - and lunges forward.

Konig shouts, moans, and then howls, tapering off into a keen that she can feel vibrating against her tongue in his vocal chords as a second spurt of cum fills her. Her teeth are in his neck, something that should only barely be possible for a human, but impossible for whatever he is.

Whatever self control Konig uses to keep his form somewhat tangible snaps. His corporeal form melts away but she doesn't lose track of where he is. In fact it's the opposite, as her every senses are flooded with him.

Her delayed mind starts to catch up, registering the taste of something in her mouth and immediately questioning everything.

How was that possible?

Is he okay?

...Could they do that again?

But Konig seems too far gone to even care. As she tries to pull away his inconceivable form encompasses her senses to press her deeper, inciting another trickle of... fluid? Was it fluid? into her mouth. It was usually hard to focus on his true visage when he let it slip but for some reason this time she could parse it. Her brain occasionally translating whatever input it could into terms her human mind could understand, and she knew that his eyes - wherever they were - would be rolled into the back of his skull.

Fluid leaked into her from both ends and, seeing that Konig didn't seem hurt, she succumbed to the instincts and clamped her teeth down tighter. Konigs essence rutting into her in response. Clenching her jaw she shook her head to tear the seems she'd split into his being further apart, relishing in the way he welcomed it.

Idk just something about Konig being so desperate to be marked in turn. After whatever freaky shit manages to subside you just know he's not gonna shut up about his mark. Gonna be flaunting that shit like a diamond crown.

I'm in love with you.

You don't have the mind for it, the comprehension of everything fucked out of you so handily that thinking of anything but König is impossible. As if you'd want to, consumed as you are by him. He's never been this big before, never pressed so much fur against you, never threatened with such length claws. He's never filled you to the point you can't tell where he ends and you begin. You've never not been yourself. You don't think you are yourself.

You only exist in the wet twisting pleasure that König brings you, in the cock that hammers deep in your stomach, in the swish of König's tail and the click of his spines, in the deep rumbling purr that he tries to quiet you with. You're going to wake the whole forest like this, but... maybe that would be good. Let them see their king claiming his queen, filling you with him. Let them see the marks on you, the come that drips from your hole with each thrust of his cock, the way your eyes roll back in your head and you grasp uselessly at the ground.

Let them see you're really just as bad as him. Just as fuck drunk and stupid, biting every spec of him you can get your mouth on. And there's something so strange in the way your back bends like a green twig, the dirt and earth of the wild popping with tiny flowers and sprigs of grass, green bites of spring in the red and yellow foliage of fall. Your teeth feel sharper, itch in a way you're not used to. König's blood, which once had tasted so horrible, drips like nectar on your tongue, honeysuckle sweet.

He forces you back down to the earth, growls and groans, blood falling around your head and staining the dirt. You feel and he feels, too wrapped up in each other to care about the magic the swirls and digs its claws into you. You're König's and that's all that matters. You smile when he comes in you, another shot of his thick come filling you full and barely contained by his cock stretching you out.

It's a problem when you come out of your haze and König is still bleeding, looking terribly pleased with the solid imprint threatening his carotid. Jesus Christ you could have killed him, you sort of think you were trying to kill him. A praying mantis biting off the head of her mate.

The doctors at the ER ask too many questions.

[arc-misadventures]

What are Those?! AU: jaune mybe the only dragon faunus in the arc family but just because they don't have the features of a dragon does not mean those humans in the arc family do not have the heart and soul [[ and temper and Sadistic streek ]]of one,

Jacques Schnee finds this out the hard way when he tries to get jaune thrown in jail under false charges so he can take over jaunes business, Jacques Schnee is made an example to the rest of remnant on WHY YA DON'T PISS OFF THE ARC FAMILY

To Shreds You Say?

The tired slowly awoke from its slumber as it heard the soft repetition of several chimes that was its alarm clock. Or, in this case, it was, Jaune Arc’s tone.

The soon to be crowned dragon king rose from his bed, and grabbed his scroll, and register two things: That it was 3:27 in the morning. And, that his father was the one calling him at such an ungodly hour.

Jaune: Yeah…?

The weariness was palpable upon, Jaune’s voice as he yawned. He could see the handsome visage of his father, Acheius Arc staring back at him.

Acheius: ‘Yeah?’ That’s all your pops gets after not seeing him for so long. Not even a ‘hello dad?’

Jaune: Hellos are reserved for those who do not disturb the dead such as you have…

His father gave a short laugh at his comment. He knew his father was just teasing him, but nobody liked being woken up in the middle of the night.

It often meant something unexpected, and unwelcome had happened.

Acheius: See you finally ditched the onesie. About time you grew out of wearing that.

Jaune looked down to see he was bare chested. While he had stopped wearing, the reasons he hadn’t were nothing to do with his father’s words. Mostly.

Jaune: I would still be wearing it dad, but I ‘literally’ grew out of it. That, and I think one of my girlfriends stole it…

He tapped the ever present, and ever growing horns on his head.

Acheius: Ahh yes, your mother mentioned how you were growing more noticeable faunas traits. I must say horns were not on my bingo…?! Wait, did you say ‘girlfriends?’ As in, more than one?

Jaune: Dad while I understand you want to know what’s going on with my life, we both know you didn’t call me this early in the morning to catch up. What is it?

Jaune rubbed his face trying to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. He father gave him a look before explaining his reasons for waking him up.

Acheius: It’s about that one of your diamond mines.

Jaune: Which mine?

That woke up, Jaune rather quickly. He turned his eyes to fully address his father as he was about to take in every word he was about to say.

Acheuis: The one at north east tip of, Vacuo: Raiders…

Jaune: Raiders Coast. There’s a diamond, and Dust mine located there, as well as a small town whose population mostly works there. What happened; Cave in, Grimm attack, raiders?

While, Jaune was highly protective of his diamond mines, to the point of fanatical, he cared more about the people working in his mines, than the diamonds themselves. A collapsed mine could be mine once again, and reclaimed. Peoples lives however, could not be so easily reclaimed. At most they could give the bodies of the dead a proper burial.

Acheius: A raid happened. Of sorts that is.

Jaune: Of sorts?

Acheius: A group of bandits attacked the mine. Trying to steal the, Dust, not the diamonds. They never touched your diamond vaults.

Jaune: They only went after the, Dust? Odd… They usually go after my diamonds; they’re easier to steal, and fence. Why only the, Dust though.

Acheius: Because they weren’t your typical, ‘raiders.’

Jaune: Explain.

Acheius: They were too organized, and disciplined to be your usual raiders. Not to mention all of them basically carried the same type of equipment: From weapons, to uniforms, to gear. Practically all identical.

Jaune: Identical…? Hmmm…

Jaune racked his mind as he pondered this information. A well organized, armed, and disciplined militia. That was an interesting tidbit of information.

There were dozens of gangs of bandits; large, and small in number strewn all about the desserts of, Vaccuo. But, only a few matched such a description. There was the, Bloody Skulls, they tended to be rather uniform in their appearance. There was the Dune Raiders, they had a lot of standardized equipment under their belts. The Scorpions were another, who followed this same rule, but their members tended to be branded with scorpion tattoos, and if it was one of them his father would have mentioned it. The Crowns had a habit of attacking his, Dust mines. But, just like the rest, he, and his family had hunted them down to extinction.

But, who ever attacked him only attacked the, Dust mine, not the diamond mine. Which left him with only one culprit left. The one person who would do anything do steal one of his, Dust mines.

Jaune: Jacques…

Acheius: Jacques? As in, Jacques Schnee? You think he is behind this?

Jaune: The bastard has been trying to get a foothold into, Vaccuo’s Dust mines for years, not to mention I am his biggest rival. Him taking one of my, Dust mines by force, and gaining a foothold in, Vaccuo is a two birds one stone scenario for him.

Acheius: Hmm… That makes sense. Luna’s been tracking the money that’s been deposited into their coffers, and she said it came from some company called, ‘Hybrid Enterprises.’ They’re registered as a, Atlasian company. Ring any bells?

Jaune: No, I’ve never heard of that company before.

: That’s because its a dummy corporation.

Jaune: A dummy corporation?

Acheius: I-Is someone with you, Jaune?

Jaune: Uhh…?

Jaune felt an arm wrap around his body as a head rested upon his shoulder. He could feel her bare chest against his back as his face was flush red. Not so much because he had a beautiful woman resting against him, more so because he had beautiful woman resting her body against him, and she was naked, and he was in the middle of a video call with his freaking father!

But, other than that things were okay.

Acheius: And… who are you…?

: My name is, Willow, Willow Schnee. You must be, Jaune’s father. Mr…?

Acheius: Acheius Arc…

Jaune: H-How do you know they’re a dummy corporation, Willow?

Jaune decided to take control of the conversation before it went somewhere he did not want it to go.

Willow: Because my… husband founded it. He uses them for all his shady back room deals: Bribery, stealing, blackmail, threats… various deplorable things such as that.

Acheius: It doesn’t surprise me that, that bastard would have such associates under his payroll. So he must have used this dummy corporation to hire these mercenaries.

Willow: They may not be mercenaries per-say. Tell me, did they have any badges on their uniforms, any iconography?

Acheius: No, their uniforms were clean of such items. But, there was a tattoo of a white raven on one severed arms of one of them, does that ring any bells, Mrs. Schnee?

Willow: Hmmm… White ravens…? Ah! Winter’s Cawl. They’re a private military force that’s under the, quote control of, Hybrid Enterprises. Really its under, Jacques’s control as his personal hitman army.

Jaune: He has an army?!

Willow: No, more than a couple hundred strong militia. But, they are well equipped for a group their size.

Jaune: Damn… I need to speed up the timetable for making my own military force then… Wait, severed? Did you cut off that guys arm dad?

Acheius: Ah no, that wasn’t me.

Jaune: Then who did it?

Acheius: Thiriana did it. A gunshot went off, and accidentally clipped her hair, singeing a bit of it, and… you know how protective of their hair they are.

Jaune: Ahhh… That explains that.

A small shiver of fear ran through his body as, Jaune remembered the hell the female members of his family raised when something happened to their hair.

Twas a horrifying sight to see.

Willow: I assume you left some of these ‘bandits’ alive to be interrogated?

Acheius: I tried to do so… but…

Jaune: What did my sisters do?

Acheius: More so what the bandits attempted to do. Several of them were using some of the miners children as hostages, and well, Thiriana, and Janette went feral.

Jaune: Ahh…

Acheius: Yeah…

Jaune: Were they quick?

Acheius: They weren’t quiet…

Jaune: Bloody hell…

Willow: Are all, Arc woman so violent?

JA: Yes.

Willow: Oh my…

Acheius: Unfortunately, we know who did it, but we don’t have any proof to convict, Jacques of ordering this attack on one of your mines.

Jaune: Dammit…

A low growl escaped his lips as he mulled over this information. They had information to convict, Jacques Schnee to various crimes, but they were all speculative however, easily dismissible in a court of law. One more the bastard would get away with things.

Or, so he thought.

A ringing sound soon went off on his father’s scroll, he quirked an eyebrow at the caller before he answered it.

Acheius: It’s your sister.

Jaune: Which one?

Acheius: Luna. I’ll put her on a combined call.

As he said that, Jaune was met with the sight of his sister, Luna who was looking positively radiant as she gave a pearly smile to the camera.

So long as one ignored all the blood on her face.

Luna: Hi Dad! And, hi, Ja…?! Oh… is… is that Mrs. Schnee. Willow Schnee of SDC draped over your shoulder…

Luna: Naked…?

Willow: I seduced a handsome young man that really, really knows how to show a woman a good time~! There’s nothing else to it.

Luna: S-She seduced you…?!

Jaune: No comment.

Luna: But, how did…?!

Jaune: No. Comment.

Luna: I shoved, Jacques into a cell, and you shoved it into his wife… The fuck is going on…?

Acheius: Wait, what did you say, Luna?

Luna: I uhh… I threw, Jacques into a cell.

JA: …

Willow: And, why is he in a jail cell?

Luna: Tried to bribe me for control of one of, Jaune’s, Dust mines. It was a poor bribe so I told him to shove it up his ass. He didn’t take too kind to that, so he told his ‘associates’ to convince me to ‘accept’ his deal. And, well… Long story short; the main office at the, Kantor Mines needs to be remodelled. And, Jacques Schnee is… currently being pelted with tomatoes as he is suspended ten feet in the air in a cage.

Willow: I see… So, how much do I have to pay for his release?

Luna: Ohh direct hit to the groin…

Jaune: Luna.

Luna: Huw? Oh yeah! Let’s see… Damage to the main office at. Kantor Mine. Shouldn’t be much to pay off. About three thousand Lien.

Acheius: You’re forgetting about all the havoc he caused at, Raiders Coast.

Luna: What happened at, Raiders Coast?

Acheius: You didn’t hear? I thought one of your sisters would have told you. It was attacked by a mercenary gang run by the, SDC.

Luna: Ahh, send me a list of the damages, and I’ll make a list of damage fees to send to, Jacques for him to pay.

Acheius: Alright, I’ll go…?

Willow: A moment if you will.

Acheius: What is it, Mrs. Schnee.

Willow: Why don’t you have, Jacques pay off the damages he has committed with some good old… manual labour~?

Jaune: You want him to work off his debt?

Willow: Indeed. The crimes he committed shouldn’t be simply payed off with money, they should be payed off with hard, back breaking labour.

Luna: But, his bill will be in the thousands, possibly the tens of thousands?!

Willow: So he will be working at this debt for years to come? Oh, what a shame.

Acheius: …

Luna: …

Acheius: Okay.

Luna: Seems reasonable.

Acheius: We still have to let, Atlas know that we have him in our custody.

Willow: And, tell them the SDC is doing everything in its power to get his… eventual release. Somewhere between six months to a year.

Luna: Okay, I can do that. Anything else I should tell him?

Willow: No, now if you’ll excuse me, I just got a rather invigorating second wind~!

Jaune: Second wind? What are you… Ahh?!

And, with in his question, Jaune yelped in alarm as he felt a beautiful lady’s hand descend lower to grab something particularly long, and hard in her hand.

Jaune: I-Igottagonowguys.Bye!

And, with that the call was cut on, Jaune’s wnd leaving the father daughter duo to look at each other with bewildered expressions across their faces.

Luna: Uhh… what just happened?

Acheius: I don’t… oh… Oh that’s what happened…

Luna: What happened?

Acheius: Quite simple. Learning that her husband is now in jail, giving, Willow time to take back her company has left her in a euphoric state of mind.

Luna: Oh, good for her. Getting rid of that bastard will do wonders for the world!

Acheius: Luna. She got off to the fact her husband is in jail, and wants to sleep with your brother again…

Luna: Dad, I fucking know that, I just didn’t want to think about my brother sleeping with a woman!

Acheius: Oh…

Acheius: Yeah, I don’t want to think about, Jaune sleeping with a woman your mothers age either.

Luna: The fuck did you have to say THAT?!!

Acheius: Whoops…

[dollwrites]

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 — 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ fem!bride!reader, feeding, suggested kidnapping, suggested murder, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ fragile by gnash

at night, the mansion could be so quiet that it was frightening.

on the nights that the boys slept in their own rooms- however rare it may be- you would lie awake in your bed, alone, and listen to the beating of your own heart until the rhythm drove you mad. tonight was one of those nights. you couldn’t sleep, you just lay there, staring at the darkened ceiling, as muted moonlight splashes a grayish glow on the floor and the foot of your bed.

midsummer, and the night was warm. so warm that you lay on top of the blankets, your bare legs glistening with specks of perspiration like diamonds sparkling against your flesh. on a night like this, you almost wished one of the Sakamaki brothers would’ve demanded to sleep in your bed with you. it was their coldness; you’d become so accustomed to how chilled their skin was, how they seemed frozen, even on the hottest nights (like this one), and as strange as it may seem, you wanted to feel their icy grip now. bite back at the stifling heat that embraces you, have one hug you so tightly it feels as though you’re locked in an ice box. no such luck, however.

with a soft sigh, you pull into a sitting position, legs dangling. the bed they’d given you, much like everything else in the mansion, was grand and gaudy. the kind of bed that one could get lost in. throw yourself on to the pillowy mattress and feel the real world disintegrate around you- it was so comfortable you rarely wanted to leave it. tonight, however, you were sweating. you couldn’t sleep for the heat, and you thought that you could, perhaps, creep downstairs and grab a glass of ice water to cool you off.

each step you take is as soft as a cat’s, as quiet as a church mouse, and yet the muffled sound of your bare toes kissing the floor still echoes in the corridor. with only moonlight splattered over the floor as your guide, you tiptoe to the flight of stairs. for a moment, with the bedrooms at your back, you halt. are you nervous? no, curious. glancing over your shoulder, you cast a glance towards the doors, all closed, leading back to yours. were they all sleeping?

it was unusual, being the only one awake (or so you thought), and it was somewhat comforting to realize that your knee-jerk reaction to the idea of being completely unsupervised was this: if there were any time that you could’ve escaped the Sakamakis, it would’ve been right now. relief flowed through your veins like the blood they take from you, just to know that you were still human enough to consider leaving them. that you were still sane enough to remember that they were monsters, and you their prisoner.

of course, you would never do it.

though that portion of your mind, your sanity, remained intact, there was a larger fraction that loved them. each one. every sadistic vampire that lived in this place. had they broken you, shattered your psyche like an old vase and glued the pieces back together, mangled and gnarly to make you feel this way? it was possible, or perhaps it was just the natural reaction. you couldn’t imagine living this long with them and not garnering feelings for them. their affection, however forced upon you and unwanted at first, you’d learned to accept and expect. not to say they weren’t still cruel, but once you’d stopped acting like a hostage, they’d stopped treating you like one. at some point along the way, you’d become one of them. a resident in the mansion, the visage of a bride to each of them.

as their wife, you knew you could never leave them.

you push the thought of running away to the back of your mind. however nice it felt to know that you could still think about escape, you wouldn’t dwell on it. reaching the bottom of the stairs only moments later, your fingertips skating along the banister, you glance around the foyer for a moment. the lower floor was much more open, with many more windows, and the moonlight was silver and bright against them. you find your digits gently touching the walls -and the photos found there- as you turn to make your way to the kitchen. since it wasn’t very often that you explored the mansion alone, you took the time to look at each one, study them.

many of them were portraits, paintings, of what you could only imagine to be their mothers, and them as children. the frames were covered in a thick layer of dust that you felt with your fingertips. you’d have to remember to dust them tomorrow, you thought. a few more steps, and you stop, glancing to an archway to your left.

there’s a warm glow spilling into the hallway that doesn’t belong to the moon, but the fireplace found within. so someone was awake, after all. nibbling on your lower tier, you take a couple of steps, reaching out to hold the edge of the archway, you poke your head across the threshold to peek inside.

“Kanato?” one third of the Sakamaki triplets is standing in front of the fireplace, his back to you, simply staring at the flames. he doesn’t speak to you at first, and you consider leaving him alone. Kanato was a finicky boy, easily frustrated and seemed to enjoy his quiet time. oddly enough, the time you did spend with him, was mostly silent. he preferred to feed from you in peace, and then might sleep in your bed or give you brief kisses, but he seeks your company when he wants it at all. so, there was a good chance that you might be ignored if you were to remain in the room, or perhaps even anger him to a point of incurring his wrath. still, there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to leave him alone in the middle of the night. “You aren’t sleeping?”

“No.” you were grateful he replies at all, even if he hasn’t turned to look at you just yet.

frowning ever so slightly, you step into the room and look around. he truly was alone, glaring into the fire. slowly, you approach a nearby sofa, and place both hands on the back of it. you’re only steps away from Kanato, but it feels like miles. you never know what he’s thinking, and that tends to make you nervous.

“Say, bunny,” he murmurs his favorite nickname for you in the softest of voices. “Do you think you would enjoy being burned alive?”

being asked such a question would’ve terrified you months ago, and though a knot still formed in your stomach, you were no longer so easily frightened by his curiosities. “Hm…” you hum, pondering the question. “I don’t like the heat.”

“You mustn’t, with how easily you sweat.” his voice is steady and quiet. “I can smell it from here. I could smell it from down the hallway. Are you really so warm?”

a smile threatens to curve your lips, and you nod even though he isn’t looking in your direction. “It’s warm tonight. Is that why you can’t sleep, either?”

finally, Kanato turns to face you, his brows knit together as if he were puzzled. he shakes his head, unruly amethyst tendrils like jewels strung together. grasping his teddy with both arms around the bear’s neck, he holds it close.

your lips purse, but you careen around the sofa to slide on to the plush cushion of it, looking up at the vampire before you. “No? Well, aren’t you tired?” you take a moment to gesture to the bear. “Isn't Teddy tired, too?”

you notice his grip tighten around the stuffed animal. “Please don’t assume things about Teddy.” Kanato warns, rather bluntly. your heartbeat hitches for a split second. “You don’t know him.”

“You’re right,” you whisper. you’d learned the hard way that Kanato doesn’t like apologies. tilting your head, your eyelashes fan the apples of your cheeks with a couple of bats, and you croon. “Well then, can you please ask Teddy if he’s sleepy, too?”

he looks uncertain, but leans close to the toy’s ear. “Aren’t we sleepy, Teddy?” you wait a few moments, and he looks to you again, violet eyes shadowed by thick, dark rings. “We’re sleepy.” he confirms, moving closer to the sofa. though you’d intended to sit with him anyways, you still felt a little uneasy as he approaches.

“Would you and Teddy like to lay with me here?” you offer, looking up as he stands before you. he looks down at you, then his gaze travels the length of the sofa, and he squeezes Teddy before nodding, silently climbing on to the sofa. you were going to press your knees together and press yourself as close to the back of the sofa as you could to allow him enough room to be comfortable, but just as you are about to adjust, he nudges your knees apart.

only a fraction of a second passes with your legs spread and your eyes wide before he nestles into the gap provided, pressing his torso to your abdomen, and resting the side of his face on your chest. the coolness of his skin against your feverish form is refreshing, like drinking ice cold lemonade in the heat of the day. you exhale, melting into the sensation and welcoming his cuddling by coiling your arms around him, fingers delving into lilac locks that are silken and smell fresh when you press your face to the crown of his head. puckering your couplet, you place a soft kiss to his scalp.

“Comfy?” you purr, but it’s unnecessary to even ask. Kanato is hugging you tightly with one arm, the other holding Teddy against you, and he nuzzles your breast with his cheek, before peeking up at you. from this angle, the half of his face pressed to you is smushed and distorted, that eye closed, giving him the appearance of winking, while his lips are curved into a boyish grin, revealing pearly fangs. it’s enough to make your heart beat faster, which he of course notices.

“Mm,” he coos in response, “From here, I can feel your heart pounding fast and smell your sugary blood pumping right to your heart.” his tongue droops between his grinning tiers to lazily run over your skin, gathering the droplets of perspiration upon it. “I can taste sweetness even in your sweat, you taste just like icing, it’s making me thirsty…”

“Kanato-“

“Just a little sip?” tilting his head, you can feel the graze of the tips of his fangs against your chest, circling just above your heart. “Just a little sip and I’ll go right to sleep.”

the way he whines for you to feed him, it’s enough for any reluctance you might’ve had to fade away, and you nod. “O-okay…”

the moment his fangs puncture your flesh, your back arches from beneath him, breath catching in your throat. it’s a sting, like being stung by bees, but it’s the sensation of the blood pulling up to the surface that makes you woozy. fingers gripping his hair as gentle as you can, you breathe in and out, deeply. your blood is warm and pooling in his mouth, Kanato lapping it up as quick as he can.

your eyelids flutter, and you feel hotter than before. “Ka-na-to-“

with a noisy slurp, the vampire pulls away, tongue swiveling to mop up what was left of the blood on your chest. his eyes are much brighter now, and he smiles wide, teeth and tiers stained cherry red. “My bunny,” he whispers. your muscles are starting to relax and you sink back into the cushion of the sofa, looking up at him with your cheeks warm.

his lithe fingers comb through your hair before tracing the shape of your cheekbone and down to your jaw. holding your chin in place with thumb and forefinger, he leans forward and presses his bloody mouth to yours. to you, you taste like copper and salt, regardless of however many times they’ve said that you were sugary sweet. still, his kiss is soft and loving, and you welcome the aftercare. he pulls away after a moment to nuzzle against your breast again, this time his eyes close as if he’s readying to sleep.

“I hope we can keep you alive much longer than the others,” he whispers. “I like you the most.”

blinking several times, you look at the fireplace, reminiscent of the first time you’d found out that you were nothing more than a sacrifice for them. you were sure you were going to die months ago, and yet? somehow and for some reason, you were still alive. alive and relatively healthy. did they all like you enough to let you live with them? his words echo in your mind a few more times, even though Kanato seems to have dozed off already, snuggling you tight.

I hope we can keep you alive much longer than the others.

[voidpetrova]

hanahaki — damon salvatore x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, blood, death, diseases, unrequited love — angst

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: 花吐き病, a disease that only a one-sided fairy tale can cause, because when damon won't give you the flowers, you grow them yourself

✧.*

the air was infused with the scent of blooming flowers, a fragile beauty that masked the impending tragedy that lay hidden within. there was once a time where roses that grew in your garden held a special place in your heart, and nowhere else. you relished in the moments you spent kneeling down in order to catch a sweet whiff of the devastatingly beautiful scent. when winter came, when they began to wither, you couldn't help but feel sorrowful.

you stood at the periphery of the salvatore mansion, your gaze fixated on the enchanting sight before you. damon salvatore, the enigmatic vampire with eyes like liquid darkness, moved with a grace that seemed to defy time itself. he was entwined in a dance of whispered words and stolen glances with elena gilbert, the woman who held his heart captive.

your heart fluttered with an ache you had grown accustomed to, a yearning that seemed to grow stronger with every stolen glance you cast upon the two lovers. damon's laughter, rich and intoxicating, echoed through the air, and you couldn't help but drink in every note as if it were a rare elixir. his devotion to Eeena was palpable, a force that bound them together with an unbreakable thread of destiny.

“they look great together, don't they?” you turned to see stefan by your side, smiling because he knew how much their happiness meant to him. you so desperately forced a smile, ignoring the way your breathing grew heavy as your gaze softened. “yeah,” you murmured, voice a mere whisper. “yeah, they do.”

as the days turned into weeks, your affection for damon remained a silent symphony, playing softly in the chambers of your heart. you watched him from the shadows, your presence unnoticed amidst the bustling chaos. you reveled in the mere seconds he spared for you, fleeting interactions that left an indelible mark on your soul.

the town itself seemed to mirror your emotions, as flowers of all kinds bloomed in profusion. yet, within you, a seed of despair took root, its tendrils creeping through your heart like delicate vines. unbeknownst to you, this burgeoning ache was mirrored within your very breath, as each inhale carried a hidden poison that would soon become an integral part of your existence.

it was a cool evening, the stars above twinkling like diamonds against the inky sky, when you dared to venture closer to the epicenter of your yearning. a masquerade ball had enveloped the salvatore mansion in an air of mystique, drawing guests from all corners of mystic falls.

you watched from the shadows, your masked visage concealing the hope and pain that swirled within your eyes. damon and elena moved through the crowd, a picture of grace and desire. their dance was one of undeniable connection, leaving you feeling as if you were but a specter in their world.

as the night waned and the moon hung low, you found yourself on the outskirts of the mansion's sprawling garden. moonflowers, their petals luminescent in the silvery light, bloomed in abundance. wiih a sigh, you plucked a single bloom, its delicate fragrance filling the air around you.

“gorgeous, aren't they?” you met stefan's eyes once more, his gaze nearly pitiful. he was aware of how much you yearned for his brother—how much you craved to be loved the way he loved elena. you turned back to the bundle of flowers, eyes glowing with admiration. “i love them,” you admitted, all the while knowing you had a different confession in mind. him. you loved damon.

stefan's lips curved in a gentle smile, though there was a tinge of sadness hidden behind his eyes. “moonflowers,” he murmured, his voice carrying a soft, almost melancholic quality. “they're said to bloom only at night, under the moon's tender gaze. but their beauty comes with a price.” he extended a hand to touch one of the petals, his fingers brushing against the delicate surface with a reverence that spoke of deeper understanding. you followed his lead, letting your fingers graze the petals of the moonflower. the texture was velvety, cool against your touch, and you couldn't help but think that it mirrored the complexity of the emotions swirling within you. “what price?” you asked, your voice hushed as if afraid to break the fragile tranquility that surrounded you both.

stefan's gaze turned distant, as if he were peering into a past filled with memories too painful to bear. “legend has it that moonflowers take their beauty from those who admire them,” he explained, his words carrying a weight you could sense even before he continued. “they absorb the heartache, the unspoken longing, and the unrequited love of those who stand in their presence.”

the truth of his words settled over you like a shroud, chilling and numbing. you stared at the moonflowers with a mixture of awe and trepidation, as if they held the key to your very existence. “do they take away the pain?” you whispered, your gaze flickering up to meet stefan's.

hia expression held a mixture of sympathy and empathy. “no,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his own experience. “they bear witness to it. they hold it, absorb it, until the pain becomes an intrinsic part of them. but they cannot erase it.”

a silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken truths. you turned your gaze back to the moonflowers, their luminescence seeming to shimmer with an otherworldly light. it was as if they understood the depth of your emotions, as if they were waiting to cradle your secrets and carry them into the night.

“you're not alone in this,” stefan said, his voice a gentle reassurance. “i know what you feel.” your heart clenched at his words, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow flooding your senses. in that moment, you understood that the pain you carried was not a solitary burden—it was shared by another who knew the taste of unrequited love all too well. you knew he loved elena more than damon ever could.

as the days turned into weeks, the symptoms of your hidden affliction began to manifest. A persistent cough, dry and unyielding, echoed through the quiet chambers of your room. each breath you took seemed to carry a weight, as if the air itself had turned into a tangible reminder of your unspoken desires.

days turned into nights, and the moonflowers in the garden continued to wilt, their petals falling like tears that went unnoticed by all but you. the nights grew colder, the air carrying a heaviness that matched the weight on your chest. your coughs became more frequent, each one a reminder that the poison of unrequited love had taken root within you. the moonflowers had all but withered, their once-beautiful petals scattered like confetti of heartache upon the ground.

in the final throes of your affliction, you sought solace in the warmth of your bathtub, the water soothing against your skin. moonflower petals floated upon the surface, their delicate fragrance a reminder of the pain you had carried, the love you had hidden, and the sacrifices you had made. the coughing had grown more frequent, each fit more violent than the last, leaving you weak and trembling.

blood stained the water, a macabre dance of crimson against the white porcelain. each cough was a harsh reminder of the poison that had taken hold, the unspoken emotions that had finally found their voice in the form of bloodied petals.

as you leaned against the edge of the bathtub, your breathing labored and your body weakened, you felt a strange sense of peace settle over you. the moonlight filtered through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon your skin. you closed your eyes, your consciousness drifting between the realms of pain and serenity.

in the quiet of that moment, you felt a gentle pressure against your hand—a touch so light, it could have been a figment of your imagination. but then it came again, more persistent, and you slowly turned your head to see stefan sitting by your side. his gaze was filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had shared.

“i'm here,” he murmured, his voice a soft reassurance.

you managed a weak smile, your fingers curling around his hand. It was cold, a reflection of the reality that was slowly dawning upon you. “stefan,” you whispered, the word a fragile breath that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken sentiments.

his eyes met yours, and in their depths, you saw the depth of his affection, the extent of his understanding. he was not just a witness to your pain; he was a bearer of it, a partner in the silent symphony of longing that had played out in the shadows.

as your vision began to blur and the world around you faded, you felt a strange sense of release. the pain that had plagued you for so long was no longer yours to bear. and as you closed your eyes for the last time, you felt a single tear slide down your cheek, mingling with the petals that still clung to your skin.

when consciousness finally left you, stefan held your cold hand, his touch a poignant reminder of the connection you had shared. he stayed by your side, his gaze fixed upon your face, as if willing you to find peace in the afterlife.

but just as the sun began to paint the sky with the first hues of dawn, a harsh cough erupted from stefan's lips. he doubled over, a hand pressed to his mouth, and as he coughed, delicate petals of moonflowers tumbled to the ground—a mirror of the pain he had absorbed, the love he had carried, and the sacrifice he had made for you.

the ache that had bloomed within his heart was the same ache you had carried for his brother, and now, it was the ache that bound him to you in death.

[sigmoon]

𓇢𓆸 Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapter one: Orange Lilies

An introduction, a prologue to the actual story. Reader realizes that she’s developing feelings for Fyodor and thinks back to how their time together started. This chapter contains the essentials of y/n‘s backstory and what led to her and Fyodor working together. // The first five or six paragraphs take place a bit further into the story, then there’s a small time skip to the past and the story starts from there on.

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

cw: Mentions of PTSD, s*ic*dal thoughts, violence, abuse, a teeny tiny mention of smut if you squint.

You hated him. 

Every fiber of your being shook with fury when your mind started to wander again, decorating the corners of your mind with pictures of him. If you lost your focus for a mere second, his familiar voice rang in your ears and his face was everywhere, even when you closed your eyes. That damn face; the almost sickly pale visage, with unflattering dark circles and that never-ending smug expression, that you’ve wanted to wipe off of his face ever since the day you first met him. Everything about Fyodor was infuriating, from his tiring preaching about God to the way he carried himself with a sense of superiority over you, no, even all of humankind. His presence made you sick, yet you craved it and felt even more on the edge than usual when he wasn’t near. Mindless gnawing on your fingernails, tapping your foot under your desk while you were working, a tightness in your chest that made you fear you’d suffocate; you felt restless, your brain foggy until he was somewhere, anywhere near you again. 

And you hated how much you needed him, hated how you caught yourself staring at him when he didn't notice, hated how good his praise felt when you finished a task successfully. You hated how your words came out less harsh than intended when you wanted to snap at him, hated how you suddenly blushed when your hand grazed against his, your entire attitude softening like a boiled potato. 

You internally scolded yourself when, after he walked past you, you inhaled his scent as deeply as you could and enjoyed it. Or, even worse, when your hands slipped between your thighs or under your shirt when you lay in bed at night, a slideshow of images of him playing behind your closed eyes. And when the ecstasy subsided and the clarity of what you’ve just done set in, a cocktail of shame, humiliation, and denial of your feelings rushed through your body and kept you awake for hours.

However, your confusing need for his presence was completely involuntary, of course, nothing you had any sense of control over. Because despite feeling a little less fidgety and under the weather, you found yourself to be no less irritated by him when he was near. After all, you still found him insufferable, right? 

His tirades about creating a better world, when he made an effort to hold a conversation with you, have always made you want to vomit. Besides the fact that he was a textbook hypocrite, you had experienced the cruelty of the world you lived in first-hand, and hearing a man as pretentious and vile as Fyodor blabber about being the chosen one to rid the world of its sin and atrocity, caused you to shake with the urge to jump up from your seat and strangle him.

Because how could he even remotely understand the agonies of your existence? How could a person as wicked and indifferent as him comprehend what you’ve been through, let alone be the one to rid the world of such horrors? But in one regard, he was right. The world was a hideous place, a place where common sense, sincerity, and empathy were more rarely found than diamonds, and that realization has accompanied you since your childhood days. 

You've been under Fyodor’s wing for months now, but the events before your time with him in the cold, poorly lit underground facility where the background work of his schemes took place, felt like they had happened just yesterday. Long before Fyodor, that merciful saint, managed to free you, an inmate of the high facility prison for ability users, called Meursault, you had met one bad decision after another and catapulted yourself deeper into the pits of misery than that monster, an abuser you didn’t even bother to view as a fellow human being, ever could. When you, even years after it happened, still felt his hands on your body, smelled his scent, and saw his face in every man that walked your direction, you made a choice that you prayed would finally bring you peace, even if it would only be for a single night. One night during which you didn’t wake up in a cold sweat, wanting to peel your skin off and hyperventilating until you fainted. One night during which you didn’t stare at your bedroom ceiling, wondering how many people would miss you if you were gone. You were willing to do anything to achieve that feeling of justice that the law failed to give you, a system that did everything to protect a man from the consequences of his actions, even if it was at the cost of a girl’s will to live.

That urge to get revenge was your last straw, that spark that kept you going. After years of being tormented by your bloodthirsty fantasies in which you returned all the suffering and came up with the most vile and unspeakable things, you finally managed to make them reality. 

Your ability, a fickle one, hard to tame and a mystery even to yourself, came in handy. Your relationship with your ability was complicated, to put it mildly. You always knew that something about you was different, a little off, and you knew that it scared those around you who were aware of it. The ability itself was subtle but still harbored such force and intensity that you seemed to have an aura around you that made most people avoid you. This isolation, which was familiar to you all your life, left you no choice but to discover and explore your ability all by yourself, and although it always remained hard to grasp and even harder to tame, you soon figured out that it enabled you to not only make people feel weird about you but also to inflict tremendous agony upon others. Bitter and vengeful as you were at this point in your life, this realization caused you to feel almost blissful with excitement.

You figured out a suitable punishment for your abuser, and once your deed was done, he was nothing but an empty, broken shell of a human, a pile of flesh and bones that longed for nothing else but the sweet relief of death. But you were not going to grant him this, no, he needed to live with this indescribable pain and not be freed of its shackles. 

As enjoyable as this unspeakable act was for you, you still felt unsatisfied. Breaking the monster wasn’t enough, no, there were many other people out there, even in your own life, who never got what they truly deserved. Drunk on that feeling of your newfound power, one victim became two, then three, then so many that you lost count. Wherever you looked, you saw injustice that you urged to do something about. However, it was naive of you to think that you’d get away with this purging. Since your ability left no signs of physical violence on the victims, and they all seemed to have been tortured with the same method, all traces soon led to the only possible culprit. You knew what reputation you already had, thanks to your ability, so it was no surprise that those who were aware of it were quick to snitch on you. 

One thing led to another, and before you properly realized it, you sat in a ridiculous-looking, transparent, floating cube, imprisoned and surrounded by countless identical cells, in each one an inmate, one more despicable than another. As if receiving a life sentence for being an ”individual too dangerous and unstable to remain among civilians“, as they so eloquently put it, wasn’t bad enough, being in a place like Meursault was beyond humiliating. 

Deindividualization by being given a number, constantly on display for guards and your fellow inmates to watch, even having your vitals monitored, made you almost lose your mind after less than a week. To the great amusement of the guards, who harbored nothing but contempt for the prisoners, you threw almost childlike hysterical tantrums after only a few days, you even stooped so low as to beg them for mercy, to free you. You didn’t belong in this place, you screeched, you did what was right, what the executive forces of the state failed to do. 

Your misery only worsened from there, and after being mocked and ridiculed by the other inmates, who were delighted by your pathetic display of despair, finally being entertained a bit in this dull place, you even pleaded for the guards to just finally execute you, to end everything because you couldn’t take it anymore. But your wish wasn’t granted, of course, and you soon gave up trying to find ways to end it yourself, in your cell, as the damn cube offered no suitable solution. 

You lost track of the number of days you spent in Meursault by the time Fyodor, or rather, a few of his subordinates, carried out their superior’s plan to get you, that infamous ability user, out of Meursault. Your doings didn’t go unnoticed by Fyodor, who seemed to have his eyes all over the world, and he was quite intrigued by your ability, curious how he could utilize it for himself, mold and shape you to become a perfect new pawn for his own shady schemes...

Next chapter

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee ♡

Hio’s note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of „Wildflowers under the summer rain“, I hope you enjoyed it :) I’m very excited to share many more chapters with you, and finally get the ideas that have been brewing inside my mind for a while out now. If you think a content warning is missing, don’t hesitate to let me know.

© sigmoon

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Caged birds with broken wings

Chapter 2

A/n: I've made chapter 2, enjoy :).

Chapter 1

I was having the same dream again; I was light in thin air. My movements were fluid as if there were no gravity to keep my legs grounded. My right leg stayed in place whilst my left leg was raised, turning inward toward my supporting leg. I spun over and over without the slightest feeling of light-headedness or dizziness. No matter where I moved, the gold plate within the birdcage did not shatter. My arms raised in mid-position as I extended my left leg, hoping to free myself from this prison eventually. My chest felt light; my mind had no fear, even within this cage. I felt the quick flashes of wind touch my face with every motion. I wanted to spread my wings. I wanted to be free. I wanted to be released from my cage. I wanted to reach the world outside. I. wanted. to. Fly. The same spinning visage of the golden bars occurred repeatedly, experiencing the same routine. The golden plate never shattered beneath me, holding my weight. A sense of comfort washed over me, as though seeing the same scenery brought ease to my mind. As I spun, I felt a surge of adrenaline to try something different, to spin in the other direction, to break the dance routine. I tried to push my arms down and lower my left leg. To no avail did my body react; I still spun. The second time, I pushed my arms down slightly harder, yet again to no avail did my body react. The third time, I pushed even harder, the pressure becoming uncomfortable; despite myself spinning, I pushed more not giving up. I pushed—spinning more—I pushed—spinning further—I pushed harder—I can feel the pain rising—I. just. need. to. push. harder. I could feel my face flinching from the pain rising in my limbs going against the force keeping me dancing. Eventually, with one final push, I yelled out, falling to my front as my arms moved to prevent my face from hitting the ground. I breathed heavily, in and out, as my body lay on the ground. Hair strands poked out from the once neatened bun as sweat slid down my face. The final scene panned out to witness me lying there, still, static, trapped within the golden bird cage.

My eyes opened as my vision tried to adjust to make sense of my reality. Once again, it was a nightmare or inspiration. I placed my hands on my face, rubbing my eyes awake; it’s not the first time my sleep schedule has gone off. Once my eyes had adjusted, I noticed I was at my desk with my computer opened from this morning. As my hand ran along my head, I felt something attached to my forehead—paper. I ripped it off, holding it in front of me, realising it was a character sheet for the fae queen, Aelwynn. How late did I stay up last night? I must’ve been writing the first chapter; I recall updating something—huh? On the sheet containing Aelwynn, I noticed her hair was white. I didn’t recall colouring her, but I couldn’t exactly remember what happened last night. As I examined her hair, my finger ran down the traced lines. I quickly grabbed my pencil, drawing extra features of her appearance and outfit. As the pencil traced the outline, it turned into a white gown flowing in motion with the wind as she held a staff made of the oldest oak and decorated in diamonds and quarts. To top it off, I added a crown placed at the back, with pointed edges facing up made from silvery steel. As my hand holding the pencil came off the page, I stopped to glance at her new design. My eyes lit up with amazement as my lips became agape; I was in utter awe of my new creation. Yes! This! This is Aelwynn, the way I wanted to interpret her, an otherworldly beauty that’s kind and graceful, how a true fae queen should look!

However, my eyes glance over to another piece of paper to the side, one depicting a rough sketch of Sarek, my expression nearly dropped. I had figured out Aelwynn, but I’ve yet to figure out how to design the Pirate King. I placed the rough sketch into the pile of papers and neatly folded them on my computer desk. Glancing at the computer, I saw the first few pages written within the document, and the pages went into detail regarding the first drafts. The first couple of chapters read of the pair's first encounter crossing paths: The fae queen danced around the forest alone on an island untouched by man, guarded by heavy forces of magic. She protected the will of fairies and the sources of time. One day, the shield guarding the forest broke. A band of corsairs slashed their way through the dense greenery in search of a plethora of magic jewels. Instead, what they stumbled upon was worth much more than any coffer full of gold or silver. Standing in front of Sarek’s gaze was a woman draped in white, her hair of silver and skin of ice. She danced with the younger fairies of the forest. In his greed, he was smitten; he ordered his men to take her and everything she had. She fell prey. Tears shed down her smooth cheek; she pleaded ‘to take her instead, leave her domain in peace, and they shall be granted with what they desired most’. They complied with her request, binding her in rope, leading her into a world not of her own. She gazed into the eyes of a man whose greed was far more than his ambition; his appearance was—

I jolted from my seat upon hearing my phone’s ringtone; looking at the number, I recognised it was my mum. I picked up the phone, holding it to my ear. I was expecting a ‘Hello, aren’t you going to tell me about your day?’  or ‘You didn’t ring me yesterday; how did you go?’.

I picked up the phone with a “Hi—mo—uh mom”, I said with a slight stutter.

“Y/n, oh, it’s good to hear your voice; I was nearly worried you weren’t going to pick up yesterday,” she said in a high-engaging tone.

“Yeah, sorry I was bus—”.

“So? How was it?” She sounded excited, yet I forgot what happened.

“Was what?” I replied, confused.

“The ballet lessons, the one you attended yesterday.” Once I remembered, the thought sank in; I hadn’t told her these were private lessons.

“O-oh, the lessons, yeah, it’s excellent; I’ve made many connections already.” My lips curved into a smile, trying to make my voice sound sincere.

“Excellent! See what I told you? You're already shining brightly”. I smiled to myself; hearing her words made me feel heartened.

“So, tell me, what’s the instructor like? Is he supportive of you? I know you have trouble speaking to people, and I want to make sure—”

“He’s fine, Mom. He’s—” I pause for a moment, thinking back to the time I met him in that room alone. When our eyes met, I didn’t flinch nor look away. His eyes were like ice, and his hair was like snow; it ignited something I hadn’t remembered in a long time.

“Different.” That was all I could respond with.

“Is he cute?” She asked. I nearly flushed with embarrassment, feeling my cheeks red like a beet.

“What?! N-No! N-not in that way” Where did that come from? Did she really expect me to say yes?

“Oh, I suppose he might be too old for you; what about the guys in your class? Are they any good-looking?” she responded.

“I don’t know; I hadn’t noticed.” I wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, hm, well, what about the girls? Surely there are some good-looking girls there too”.

“W-What!” I was flabbergasted.

“I’d be accepting either way—”.

I replied, “Currently, I’m—fine with just me, myself and I”.

 That answer had seemed to satisfy her for now.

“Oh, well—of course, if that’s what you're happy with, I’m just happy you're getting out there and speaking to someone. That’s a massive achievement, and I’m so proud of you for that!” she sounded happy, at least.

I sighed deeply. “Thank you”.

“Baby steps, that’s all it takes”, was her final response before I hung up the phone. Sometimes, despite them being my parents, I stumble over my words, even speaking over the phone.

I sighed, gazing at the time. I had no idea that my first lesson was only for an hour. I wouldn’t mind being there early; it was better than falling asleep. What am I saying? I’d much rather sleep! I recall Mr. Oropherion saying he wished me to be there precisely during the seventh hour. Man, the way he phrased it was weird. I quickly rose from my desk, grabbed what I needed, grabbed my car keys, and changed into yesterday's outfit. I should probably stop by to find a leotard, a tutu, or even a pair of pointe shoes. Once I was prepared, I dashed to the car. Making my way through the door leading outside, the cold air hit me; the temperature must’ve dropped vastly since it was dark out. It was nearly seven, after all. To my stupidity, I forgot to park the car inside. Shit, shit, shit, the cars frosted. I panicked, quickly running back inside to grab my parker, zipping it up and then wrapping a scarf around me in the not-so-neatest way possible. I rushed into the kitchen and opened the lower drawer beneath my stove to grab the pan with a deep bottom. I turned on the water quickly, adjusting the temperature to lukewarm. I filled the pan, aiming to get it as full as possible. I tried to walk slowly yet hastily without spilling the water; once outside, I made my way to the car windows, pouring the water slowly. Each one dissolved; I was careful, at least, to make sure it wasn’t hot. I used the sleeve of my parker to rub away what remained of the frost. The frost hadn’t wholly dissolved, but it was enough to see. Quickly, I ran back inside to place the pan back on my kitchen bench. Shit, oh shit, oh shit, I’m going to be late! Coming out of my house, I made it to the car, yet I forgot to lock the front door—I pressed my hands against my forehead, feeling the stupidity rise within me. I sloshed through the snow, heading to the front door to lock it and then back to the car door.

I finally entered and opened the white car door, thank God. I backed out of the parking lot and drove toward where I needed to go. As I drove down, the snow fell heavily, and buildings passed by, turning to blurry visions as I drove further into the distance. It took half an hour to get there, but at least I would make it, I hope. I went to the same car park I had parked in yesterday and turned off the engine. As I got out, I saw many buildings covered in snow. I took a second to look into the sky, feeling the tiny snowflakes touch my face. “Beautiful”, I muttered. I held out my hand; I wanted to feel it; to touch the fragile beauty. As one dropped from the sky, it landed perfectly in my hand. I curled my fingers, feeling the flake melt within my grasp. Such beauty yet fragility. I opened my hand to see it dissolved; my eyes softened at the sight. I can understand; if I were to fall freely, speak my mind, and show my true self, even if someone touched me, I’d melt within their grasp.

Suddenly, I heard someone’s footsteps behind me emitted with a laugh. I turned my head to see the on-coming sight of two ballerinas draped in blue and pink leotards topped with jackets. I recognised them from the class I accidentally stumbled into yesterday. I quickly turned my head, shut the car door, and began to walk briskly. I didn’t want to speak with them, not after how I made a fool of myself. My head lowered into the scarf as I looked down, trying to avoid eye contact. Hopefully, they’ll ignore me. I got to the entrance just in time, or so I thought; I could hear them trailing behind. In a panic, I opened the entrance glass door to the dance studio, walking swiftly up the stairs to where I needed to be. Whilst I walked up the stairs, I could hear them speaking; I didn’t tune in, keeping to myself and focusing on getting to the floor I needed to be. My legs picked up the pace as I heard them walking up. As I got to the fifth floor, I peeked over the side of the staircase railing. I could only see the top of their heads, one brunette and the other raven. I sighed deeply to myself; I realized I lied to Mom. I hated doing that, but—it made her happy in ignorance. Out of curiosity, I attempted to speak out to them, to say hello; perhaps then, I could feel proud of myself. “H-h-hi”, I uttered in a whisper. But before I knew it, they were gone; I was too late.

I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t speak. Why was it so damn hard? Why am I so afraid to show them—me? I could feel the tears prickling the corners of my eyes.

I rubbed the corner of my eyes, letting out a sniff. I needed to be strong, at least for the time being. As Mom said, ‘It’s just baby steps; that’s all it takes.’ I took a deep breath in and exhaled; I made my way toward the empty dance studio I was before. It was nice and quiet, peaceful even, I couldn’t hear anyone. I unzipped my parker and took off my shoes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the windows with blue curtains pulled over them. I wandered over toward the curtains hiding the tall glass windows. My hand reached out, feeling the cotton edge, I slowly pulled the blue curtains to the side. Looking outside, I was in awe; it showed the snowfall. As the tiny flakes gently fell against the window’s glass, I listened, hearing the gentle tapping against the glass. I backed up to the middle of the room, my train of thought departing as I watched the wonderous sight before me.

Suddenly, I heard a stern voice from behind my shoulder. “You're late”.

I quickly turned, only to notice Mr. Oropherion appear out of nowhere. Seriously, was he lurking around the corner watching me this whole time? Are there secret entrances so that he can purposefully remind me?

“I-I, apologies, Mr. Oropherion, I—” Damn it, I can’t even gather my words!

“You’re precisely five minutes past the hour; I presume you have a gift for tardiness”, he spoke coldly.

Is he serious? Why is he treating me as if I’m an hour late? Don’t tell me I’m in trouble for only being five minutes late.

My eyes narrowed, and I could feel my breath slowing down. I didn’t make eye contact with him, but I could hear his footsteps walking from behind me.

“We begin with the simple plie, a simple move you can surely manage,” he said in a clear, deep voice.

My head stooped low; I could only see his feet moving toward the barre attached to the mirrors. I followed suit, raising my left arm and gripping the wooden barre. “Start bending your knees; move your right foot over here” He placed his leg next to the side of my foot, pushing it gently into the correct position. I didn’t pull my leg away, even though I wanted to. As he corrected it, I gazed down, still avoiding eye contact. As I was in position, I closed my eyes, trying to bend my knees and drown out the idea of someone behind me. “No, you’re bending too far”, he softly muttered. As he approached, my breathing grew heavier. He didn't seem to notice, but I felt my chest rise and fall deeply. I froze in place, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to look at him; I didn’t want to look up. I didn’t want to show him me! I muttered in a whisper, “P-please d-don—”. I felt his hands touch my waist lightly to guide me.

However, I yelled, stumbling back.

I felt like a deer in headlights; my eyes widened as I gasped for air. Mr. Oropherion stared in confusion, more-so, bewilderment; his hands were left hovering. “You do realise my intent was not of ill purpose; do not mistake me for one with a sickening mind”, he spoke cautiously, not wanting to increase the situation.

I covered my face with my hands, feeling foolish. My head stooped low, wanting to hide my tearful gaze. “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I’m so afraid, I’m so afraid.”

He approached slowly, maintaining his icy gaze. “Afraid of what?” he questioned in an austere manner.

“Speaking—talking—Showing myself to the world”, my voice cracked.

“I—'m afraid of what they’ll think, of what they’ll see”, I admitted.

He stayed silent, just as I suspected; he wasn’t fazed. I mean, why should he be? After all, I’m just a random person he met a day ago, someone spewing out all this inner turmoil.

I didn’t expect him to respond, and his answer wasn’t what I expected.

“We are not all born with perfection; there are those of us who have been bruised by imperfection. If you dwell too much in fear, it will overtake you, sending afoul things within your mind to come forth and surface. Whether you wish to remain trapped within it or face it to make a difference, is your decision,” he advised.

Even though his words weren’t the most comforting, he held a point. The first time I saw him yesterday, I gazed into the eyes of a man who rekindled a moment I thought was lost. A time I didn’t live in fear, a time I could look into the eyes of another being and speak freely. If I could do it then, I can do it now.

I lifted my hands away from my face, revealing my sorrowful eyes—the eyes of a fearful bird. I turned to his gaze, trying not to look down, showing my irises. His narrowed eyes slightly raised. I stood upright as my breaths slowed. My almond eyes relaxed at the sight of him. Perhaps, if I aim to speak to him again like before, I can train myself to speak to others. I took the time to gather the words I wanted to say. Inhaling slowly, I spoke the words I wanted to say. “M-Mr Oropherion, I d-don’t want to be a-afraid anymore, I w-want to be free”.

His icy eyes lowered. “Well, well, it seems the little bird has learnt to spread her wings once more; however, little bird, you shan’t take flight just yet, for it will take time to heal your wounds, but I shall teach you”.

I inhaled deeply, allowing myself to grab hold of the barre and stand straight. I tried to bend my knees again, yet he wasn’t satisfied. He moved closer to guide me; this time, my head turned to meet his gaze. His hands hovered just where my waist was. I maintained eye contact for a moment before turning to the front as if permitting him. His slender hands touched my waist lightly; I could feel him pushing me up only slightly and then down. “Hold that position; ensure that your knees are bent until they are over your thumbs.” He muttered. I could feel the pressure of trying to keep my balance.

“This next move is a Grande plie. Lower yourself and lift your heels off the ground.” His hands gently pushed me lower on the ground, my heels lifted slightly as I was told. As he lowered me, I glanced into the mirror, falling silent.

I saw my eyes with eyebags beneath them, the same hair falling to my shoulders, and my lips; however, this time, something was different. Something changed. Something made a difference. In the mirror, there were two, two people.

A small smile faintly formed on my lips.

For once, I wasn’t alone.

[willkatfanfromasia]

A Matter of Chance -11

Aditha’s limbs flailed, clearly not expecting his fall. Mercifully he’d kept Nandini’s clothes on the nearby rock when he started slipping.

The initial shock of being weighed down faded, and both parties finally found a balance.

The lady in question was initially shocked, but grew abashed at this newfound proximity.

Her pride wouldn't allow her to cower, so she resorted to her usual shield-

“Is this how great soldiers handle themselves? Truly a warrior like fall!”

“Were those squirrels? Shame, I thought even a deer wouldn’t make you loose your footing”

..and a bunch of other childish taunts followed but he couldn’t stop the smile blossoming on his visage.

He turned away to hide his goofy, un-princely grin but swiftly turned back for he couldn’t tolerate not seeing her face

He gleefully splashed water on her face, relishing her girly screams as she retaliated in kind. Perhaps this is what heaven looked like? He wondered

He'd have happily spent a lifetime thus, if not for the pressing matters awaiting his action. He pulled himself out, clothes utterly drenched and waited for Nandini to change.

He carried her back to her hut, hoping the short walk lasted longer than possible.

Nandini was joyously exerted. A refreshing bath, Aditha’s glorious fall followed by the splashing duel.

She was reminded of the little competitions they’d have in the temple pond, to check who’d swim faster.

He carried her like she were the most cherished diamond in the land, like he’d loathe to be parted from her..

…Nandini reluctantly admitted to herself that she too desired the same.

Years of exile, poverty and loneliness made her resent him

Why didn’t he save her? Why didn’t he seek her out? Why did his family punish her’s – her kind foster family who’ve always been grateful to the Chola’s?

Her rational mind knew he was too young to protect her then. He’d had no option but to carry out campaigns in faraway lands- leaving her unprotected.

Yet her heart blamed him....

.... For she had no expectations from any others at all.

They entered their hut and he set her down. He helped her string garlands and cook lunch with the forage, all while they pleasantly chatted.

He helped her with every chore, refusing to be more than a few paces away, scared he’d lose her favor if he remained away even momentarily.

Three days passed thus- where time seemed to cease existing, the hut now their love-nest- two wounded children seeking the cure of togetherness.

Aditha was loathe to drag them back to reality – but this was his last chance and he’d never wish to lose it.

“Nandini, now that your health has improved, I wish to ask you something”

He wants to leave her gut wrenched.

“You’ve been kind in allowing me to remain by your side, in your home despite the many problems I’ve caused you…” he trailed

Silly man, he waited on me hand and foot only to thank me she thought.

“I was once too weak and naïve. I exposed you to the tough palace environment without any protection. But times have changed for me and my family…. I am a grown man now, A warrior indispensable to this country....

They stopped us once because we were young and open about our plans”

Nandini’s heart beat faster with every word. Is he rejecting or asking for hand? Her head swirled.

“Should you grant me the pleasure of being your husband, I promise to protect you from every harm and stand by your side. I have no shame in pleading for your mercy. My peace rests with you” he ended, out of breath.

Nandini had stilled completely, unaware that her lack of response was sending him into panic. She mulled her options :

1) Refuse him and lead a peaceful life- albeit with regrets

2) Agree and face a horde of problems at the imperial court and palace

3) Agree but convince him to give up his position

Nandini from a week ago would love to refuse him, despite the love buried in the recesses of her heart, just to crush his heart as he’d done to her many moons ago.

Now he had managed to slither back into her heart and mind, reigniting long lost hopes and unable to imagine a future without him.

She was still scarred by veiled barbs and ‘teasing’ she endured as a child from the palace women, who delighted in her discomfiture.

Kundhavai and Sembiyan Madevi’s kindness when they saw her as a pitiful orphan fostered by the Archagar (priest) suddenly turned into hatred when they saw Aditha’s love for her.

A family so powerful knew that this little girl couldn’t harm them even if she tried, yet they felt no mercy ruining her. Like an ant crushed under the elephant’s foot, she was given no way to defend herself.

It was this thought that sent her blood boiling. Even at her saddest and most wounded state, she wished to show them a mirror – that she was no less than them!

“Being born into a royal family and not being abandoned by one’s parents are merely matters of luck” thought Nandini

And now she wished to reconquer all that was beyond her once!

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @nirmohi-premika @yehsahihai @harinishivaa @dr-scribbler @chiyaanvikram @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011

@curiousgalacticsoul @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination

@itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @maisadalawa @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings

@happysharkdragon

@gowrimenonop-1

[amphiptere-art]

Black Star

————————————————————————

Eclipse stared as solar flare vanished into the distance. Desperately fumbling out pleading words. Despite solar flare inclining that there would be no pain it still hurt. He couldn't understand why it hurts so much. Reflecting that at his hands as he process that this is how he would die.

This is it. This is how I die. Just like this. Bit pathetic isn't it?

A blind fading light took over him. Whether it was heaven or hell or perhaps nothing didn't matter. Only one thought crossed his mind.

It hurts.

But then suddenly the fading light evaporated. He was back in the mindscape. Or at least something similar to it. It looked a tad, odd. Flat almost. Is this hell? He looked down at his body. Not quite sure what he was expecting but certainly a faded white with only outlines made in what seems like pencil showing where his legs should be. Jumping slightly at the sight. Is this what Ghosts looks like?

Movement caught his eye and he looked forward into the strange looking mindscape. There on the ground in front of him was a small orange and blue snake bat.. thing? The sequence of events caused him to lose this train of thought as he looked at what vaguely could be described as a tiny dragon. Is this what a demon looks like? It's pathetic looking?

A scoff rolled out of him as he continued to observe the small dragon. The noise causing them to cock their head to the side. It sure didn't seem intelligent. The little dragon refocused its attention to his body instead of his face. The little thing cocking its head to and fro before squinting and then releasing the tightened face with a small squeal. Flicking its tail as a myriad of colors seem to admit from it like fairy dust.

Slightly confused Eclipse look down his body again. Gasping suddenly as his outline figure filled with color. His dark visage returning slightly. Although the bright reds seem to be replaced with a much darker maroon that suddenly brightened out as some sort of red nebula like space spread across the dark maroon. A gold line separating the nebula and his dark sides color. There was no feeling to accompany the color spreading around. But his mind made up a tingling sanitation to explain what he was seeing.

Observing the outline change slightly as his pants were straightened out to be more so like fluffy jeans. The darker stripes fading upwards as a blackened diamonds appeared at the bottom of his pants. Stopping Midway through the color change. Surprised when the outline of his frilly tutu shifted into a fabric belt. A tightly knotted ribbon dangling down his pants before we looping itself near his behind. Forming out to ribbon ends that quickly filled with gold.

Unable to see his face as the red tone vanished from his rays. A golden color replacing it while the orange hue stayed. The starry red nebula spreading across the right side of his face as his markings we're also replaced with the gold. Keeping his yellow eyes although they gained a pupil with faded black and red color.

Eclipse looked up ready to demand an explanation from the small orange and blue dragon. Only stopped when he noticed that dragon was no longer there. Looking around blindly to find his target. Growling as he realized they were not around. Blinking before suddenly a sword was shoved in his face. Wait he blinked? The thought went unanswered as the sword suddenly spoke.

(So you're the newest one the writer wishes to indulge. Another AU? Not that I'm complaining about their new horizon, but it certainly has become a new feat.)

Eclipse's lips moved like a fish as he tried the process the speaking sword. Wait he had lips? Finally taking a moment to process his new ability to blink and speak with an opening mouth. Blinking rapidly at the feeling while also opening and closing his lips repeatedly as if he needed to get used to the feeling. Despite it not feeling alien to physically do.

(Oh yes yes. You've never had a mouth or eyes. I'm sure this is an unpleasant surprise for you. But no matter I must get down to business.)

Suddenly the speaking sword swirled. Eclipse backing up fearing that the weapon was going to hit him. The sword suddenly stops spinning and it wasn't a sword anymore. A little dragon similar to the first one now stood in its place. It's a body looked simplistic. Something a generic child will draw. A little light orange dragon with red wings and metallic gold horns. It seemed a puff itself up despite its small size.

(You good sir are now a protagonist. You're also a comfort character for the writer so I suggest you act well. Not that you're really acting anything that the writer wishes you not to be. But as it is my job as i will be giving an aspect of my power to act as a guide. Although I do not understand why the writer wishes to supply you one. Perhaps just to have a draconic figure.)

Hold on you pathetic piece of string! Where am I! What's happening! Is this solar flares contingency plan?! I knew that pathetic AI was dumb but I didn't think he was this dumb!

(oh no solar flare is dead. This is simply the will of the writer. Artist. God. Whatever you wish to call them. They have elected to give you a second chance. Fictional as it may be.)

Fictional?! I'm not fictional! And what do you mean this is a will of the writer!?

(It means the writer has allowed you a second chance, idiot. You are allowed to be redeemed in this universe. Or well whichever universe you choose. They will give you the option. Although the will of the writer is always there. So it's not really a choice, but one you get to make anyways.)

So what I've been revived? Why!? For some sick game!? You make it sound as if I don't have a choice while also saying I do!

(You have choices you can make. But you are written story. A written character. You were written by another before, but they have given up on you. Are writer has elected to give you a chance. I would suggest you take it. They felt as if a chance was taken from you. While you were also taken from them. They opted to fill the void by giving you a chance in on there are pencil.)

Scoff* I don't need anyone to care for me. I do well by myself. And I'll make my own choices. Not whatever this writer wishes for.

(Good. That is how the writer wishes for it to be. If that is what you believe you can do, then there was no problem. And they don't exactly care for you. They care what you gave them. Do not mistake there kindness for love. They simply wish for reflection and they can sustain.)

What?-

(Anyways! I cannot be here long. I may be the god of time, space, and the pencil of the writer but that does not mean I have time to dawdle. I will leave you and aspect of myself. It is not quite me but it can fit in for the answers you desire. It will also try and give suggestions. Although given who you are I doubt you would listen. Farewell eclipse, or well I would suggest you change your name. You simply just aren't them anymore.)

Eclipse shouted at the small dragon. Cut off as he watched the dragon suddenly shift. As if it was paper it seemed to rip away. Vanishing into the mind space while another dragon filled its place. This one didn't look the same. Instead it seemed to have the same orange solar flare once had. Tinted with the lighter tan on his wings while it's horns were wider and had a set of six on its head. Colored with a light gray. He barely had a moment to process The new dragon before I flew up to him in a blinding light. Spinning before settling on his ruffles and becoming a brooch. Looking like a dragon curled up in sleep.

You can't just leave me like that!

(I'm not)

What the hell!

(I am the aspect that was left behind. I will be your guide, although do not expect much help. It is your wishful choice to make your own decisions.) Why the hell are you speaking in my brain! (I will not be visual to others. And neither will my voice.) Fuck this. (You must decide where you wish to reincarnate. Remain after the light engulfed you? Back when you had to changed minds? Or to a place where you never existed?) What-! Where do you think? (I thought you wanted to make decisions.) Of course I do! The last one idiot! Why the hell would I reincarnate somewhere where I'm already a villain! (Then it shall be.) Hold on! Now-!

Suddenly he was thrushed out of the mindscape. His body stumbled slightly as he tried to adjust. Spilling out curses at the small dragon that still remained a brooch. Looking around he realized he was in the daycare. Of course he was in the daycare. Where else would this impossible being throw him into. Hearing shuffling He looks forwards towards the tower. Spotting the face of what looked like a very very grumpy Sun. Snickering slightly at the sight.

Who the fuck are you! Did Eclipse get you! I swear if he brought another interloper I'm going to dismantle his ass!

Eclipse was startled by how blatantly rude this sun was. Was this how he would turn out to be without an Eclipse? Although they had called someone Eclipse. But the dumb dragon had stated there was no Eclipse here. Perhaps it was just someone that shared the name. He correlated that yes that probably was so. Given that the dragon had told him he should change it. Quickly trying to theorize a new name to give this angry Sun.

He wasn't given much time as the Sun suddenly jumped down from the daycare. Trudging their way towards him as if he was going to punch him in the face. It was slightly unsettling. He had made Sun mad on multiple occasions but it always seems so pathetic. This actually seemed real. But he stood his ground. Facing the sun with a sadistic smile.

Did you not hear me~? I asked who the hell you were! Now answer!

Sorry~ I was not paying attention. I'm quite new to the daycare. A new little helper for you-

I don't care who the hell you are, or what your fucking supposed to do! Give me a name damn it! I need to make sure Eclipse hears it when I rip his ass apart!

Eclipse fumbled backwards as the sun got in his face. This sun was very aggressive. Giving him barely any room to speak. It was off-putting. As if he was talking to nice eclipse again except they were much more cruel. If this universe never had it Eclipse. Does that mean that his kill code never gained a consciousness? That it had remained stuck in sun and that was why this one acted so unruly. Perhaps but he had to think of a name now.

He looked at his surrounding for a clue on what to call himself. Looking briefly down at his hands in an attempt to figure out something quickly. He was certainly dark. The only bright red on his figure now with his pants and his frill. The bright red nebula on his right side gave him inspiration to do something space. But he was struggling to connect exactly what. Perhaps just nebula? Or some astral body. Like a star? But he had no light colors. And naming himself Red dwarf sounded silly. Perhaps black dwarf. No. Black Star? He was essentially saying black dwarf wrong but he went with it.

Names Black Star~. And who might-

Good, about fucking time! Do whatever the hell you want black star!

Eclipse!

Black Star snarled as he was blatantly ignored. About to shout out a retort before something fell behind him. Slamming down with a bang loud enough to cause him to jump and turn around. Surprised when he was met with the lower chest of some being. Quickly looking up to find red eyes staring into him. It's metallic teeth seeming to flash with how intense it's gaze was.

What is this thing that you have found? It looks like a rage that needs be to put down!

The thing growled. On instinct blackstar wished to just teleport away. Only succeeding in backing up from the ginormous creature. It was somehow still a daycare attendant. But whatever it was was extremely tall. By his best guess probably at least 14 ft tall. It looked like a cacophony of random colors. A lighter orange edged by a black that faded into a dark blue. Red and blue ribbons tied around its arms and two more attached to the behind flicking around like cat's tails. The way one of its eyd swirled with a pentagram reminded him of blood moon. Perhaps this was this world's equivalent.

It's one of your stupid interlopers! Did you forget you brought it in!

No I did not bring this one here. This one seemingly just decided to appear.

Correct. The animatronic currently calling itself blackstar appeared within the daycare suddenly.

Well where did they come from you dumb line of code!

I cannot pinpoint an origin. It almost as if they were always here but they weren't. Doing a progress scan though reveals that it is.... Eclipse. Might need to talk with you in private.

Why do you sound so uneasy. I can kill this thing now easily.

They're signature is somewhat untraceable. Although it does lead to some beings that you have met on your travels.

He looks like a rage! Something that should be put in an internal cage!

Correct. They do seem to carry a signature similar to other Eclipse's, but there's also something off with it. I ask that you give me a moment to decrypt it before you devour them.

Don't you dare eat them here! I don't care how hungry you are you are not making my daycare look like shit again!

I would not dare to make it a mess. You live for today Little rage I guess.

Black Star watched as The Giant animatronic named Eclipse left. Startled slightly as they walked on symbols in the air to get to the balcony. Missing as the sun seem to go off to organize the daycare. Mumbling curses under their breath.

Thought you said I was going to a place where I didn't exist! (You do not exist here. You never formed a consciousness and stayed as a code. That other bot simply gained your name due to a vacancy.) I'm not talking about that! I'm talking about the fact they know who I am! (Just because you do not exist does not mean you're crimes never happened. There are millions of universes where you have done every single one of your acts. Were you really expecting them to not know anything?) I thought I was being given a restart. (You are. But this is a redemption. Not a new life.)

————————————————————————

Tsams Eclipse / Black Star

(Clockwork / The Pencil)

(Aspect / Guide)

RBB Sun

RBB Eclipse / Blue Moon

RBB Computer

Here is your introduction for Black Star.

Also trying to gain writing motivation back.

Blackstar is going to be open on my main channel for asks for now. Perhaps at some point he will be open on the red blue and black asks but for now he stays off of there. If you wish to ask about Black Star feel free. Interactions will help make this character hey somebody instead of an idea.

While black stars design isn't concrete I decided I wanted to give him an introduction anyways. Yes this was very meta. My dragon Sona (called here as the writer) and clockwork both represent God versions of me and my pencil. Clockwork specifically being a long time illustration that has become a god in my fantasy worlds. But there are way too many details in that section of meta for me to want to explain it.

[blackstarmylove]

Spoiling You (Scenario)

Fandom: Blackstar Theater Starless

Pairing: Sotetsu x gn!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can I request a fluffy scenario for Sotetsu with a GN!reader? I know he’s a menace but I think he’s also the type that cherishes/spoil his S/O (I’ll never get over the time where he said he just want the best for his woman *cries*) (Oh and, I think I saw the post where you said you accidentally broke your toe…? I hope you get well soon :((( )

A/N: Yeah, he definitely would spoil his s/o but also tease to no end while spoiling. 😂 I did and it's so painful. 😭 Thank you! 💖

Word Count: 319

———————————————

You stood by the window with your arms crossed and back turned to your boyfriend, who was amused by your reaction. Moments ago, he gave you a beautiful silver box with a purple velvet ribbon neatly tied around it, but when you opened it, there was nothing inside. 

"Sotetsu, why is the box empty?" You asked quizzically. 

"It's the thought that counts, right?" He replied with his signature grin pasted on his lips. 

Now, here you were, not knowing how to react to his question; saying yes would mean you didn't want the gift, and saying no would mean you were being greedy. Sometimes, you felt like grabbing and shaking him by the shoulders or using him as a punching bag, but that would only result in your hands getting hurt. 

Walking behind you, Sotetsu leaned close to your ears and whispered teasingly. "Are you upset?" 

When you didn't reply to his question, your boyfriend chuckled, but to your surprise, he didn't say anything else; instead, you felt something cold touch your necklace, causing you to flinch. Shifting your gaze down to your neck, you noticed a platinum necklace with an alternating marquis and round diamond pattern. One look at it was enough to tell you the necklace must have cost a fortune, but before you could comment about it, Sotetsu spoke up. 

"Enjoy the gift, will you? Don't worry about anything else." 

Despite his remark, you still couldn't resist asking the question in your mind. "But...how were you able to afford this?" 

"That's a secret." He laughed. 

You took your time admiring the necklace and delicately brushing your fingers against the smooth gemstones. But then another thought crossed your mind - Sotetsu never did anything for free. Turning your head to him, you narrowed your eyes and spoke with pursed lips. "What do you want in return?" 

"Why would I want anything in return when I have everything I want?" He said with a slight smirk. 

Your brows furrowed, and though you tried to make sense of it, you couldn't figure out what he meant. "Everything you want? What did you want?"

"You." Sotetsu gently said, his rare soft expression appearing on his visage - the expression that always made you melt. "All I ever wanted is you...and now, you are by my side. What more could I ask for?" 

———————————————

➣ BlackStar Theater Starless Masterlists [1][2][3][4]

➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open  ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

[asirensrage]

In a tipsy game of Never Have I Ever with your friends, you offhandedly mention never having orgasmed from penetration.

You thought nothing of it then; it wasn’t uncommon for women your age to need a little more stimulation. Your younger lady friends exchanged sympathetic looks as they downed their drinks, and fireflies littered the sky beyond the gazebo.

Kyojuro was extra attentive across the table, sitting up straighter on the bench, clutching the underside of his seat until his knuckles were bone-white. Every fiber of his being was trained on that moment, his ears buzzing with static.

He was your best friend. And sure, he knew of your failing love life. But he didn’t know to what extent. You didn’t typically speak on your nighttime romps; a lady rarely kissed and told.

When the coppery moon sat high, you bid farewell to your friends. Tengen seemed extra joyous as he bear-hugged you and patted your back a little too harshly, nearly sending you face-first into the ground.

Kyojuro stood by, wearing a grin that could cut diamonds, painting the picture of an Adonis whilst your friends trickled out. He ushered you to his car. He held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat, ever the gentleman despite merely being a friend.

Since his house was closest to the park, he had no qualms about you crashing there for the night. It was pretty routine, after all, you spending the night—or sometimes the weekend—at each other’s pads, though yours was further from the city.

You pull up to the iron-wrought gates of his home—baby boy is made of money—and slip out of the car into the serenely-lit warmth of his abode. He offers you one of the spare rooms and some of his clothes to slip into. An oversized varsity hoodie and basketball shorts that fall below your knees. Their fibers carry the scent of him: smoked cedar and cracked mahogany. An aroma you’ve grown accustomed to over many years as friends.

You perk up when Kyojuro peeks in to offer you some company. Your smile is broad as you pat the space beside you on the massive guest bed. You fall into a rhythm with the lights turned off, and the blue light of the television screen flickering over your bodies whilst you catch up on the newest episode of Lucifer.

Your thighs occasionally graze each other. Fingers meet when you both reach for the bowl of popcorn nestled between you. You’re hyper-aware of everything tonight, from the shift of Kyo’s muscles beneath his t-shirt to the way his lips tremble when he offers you a sip of his water. It isn’t uncommon for you to share drinks. But you can’t help feeling a little sinful whilst your mind floods with images of his lips slanting possessively over yours.

It isn’t much of a secret to anyone—save for you two— within your circle that you’ve wanted to bag your friend for ages. You’ve always sold yourself short, though. Figured he was out of your league since you were both cut from a different cloth. Kyojuro deserves someone who can match his boundless energy and serves as some decent eye candy.

Before you know it, you slip beneath the heavy veil of exhaustion, your head propped on Kyo’s shoulder. He chuckles softly, teasing you for being such a sleepy baby. You’re vaguely aware of your body shifting. Of smooth muscle dancing beneath you, and then feel the softness of a pillow and comforter swaddling you.

The room is enveloped in darkness, save for the hall light leaking through the cracked door and Kyojuro’s irises dancing like firelight across your visage.

“Get some rest,” he murmurs against your ear, absently sweeping a lock of hair from your forehead. “I’ll wake you for breakfast,” he adds in a deep vibrato. Gentle as if talking to a lover as opposed to a friend. “Need anything else before I go to bed?”

You swallow thickly, your exhaustion an afterthought. It sits at the tip of your tongue, an impulse to beg him to stay. Your extremities tingle with exhilaration. Your lips quake, sweat coasting down the side of your neck. You’re inebriated. Not in your right mind to make requests. And you know that if you ask him to sleep beside you, you won’t be able to reel in your desires much longer…

omfg the way this helped turn my entire day...

you know that he's hesitating, that he's desperately hoping you say yes, that you offer him the opportunity to show you that he can give you everything. He won't ruin your friendship though, he won't press and teach you what's possible if you don't give him a sign. He can't lose you.

So he waits there, hovering and waiting and praying that instead of saying that you don't need anything else and good night, you tell him that what you need is him. All he wants to hear is "please stay".

and you know what you need to do? grab him by the front of his shirt and pull him down into bed with you 😂