#(she wanted it to just be that they were stabbed)

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[rems-writing]

Cyberpunk's bartender

》 Pairing: bartender!Wooyoung x gn!erader

》 Genre: Fluff

》 Wordcount: 1,800 words

》 Rating: nc-17

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

Wooyoung chuckled to himself as he saw a group of girls walk inside the club and saw one of them stand out from the others. She looked sheepish and definitely did not want to be outdoors right now. He understood far too well that sometimes, people just don’t like being forced to go out. As soon as Mingi, the bouncer that let these women in, gave a signal and pointed to the incredibly shy girl that flinched at everything, Wooyoung nodded and gave a thumbs-up in return. After all, he was also used to helping introverts like that woman escape. 

“I NEED THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES FOR BOOTH 1024!”

Wooyoung heard Jongho’s voice resonate within the dingy strip club and he nodded. He set to work on making the mixed drinks, pouring each amount of tequila perfect into the metal shaker before adding ice and closing it. He started shaking it with one hand while the other gathered three glasses so he could pour the drink in. Once he set the shaker down, he grabbed a strainer and placed it over the opened shaker before pouring each drink into the frosted glasses. He grabbed the tiny umbrellas and stabbed three maraschino cherries before topping the drinks with it. 

“THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES!”

Wooyoung’s voice was incredibly loud, even through the booming techno music the strippers were dancing to. Jongho hurried over to the bar and grabbed the drinks carefully before thanking him and walking over towards the booth. Wooyoung sighed and quickly washed his tools so he could prepare for making the next few drinks. He hated using dirty tools when making drinks. He believed that the remnants from the last cocktail mixed in with the new cocktail would make it taste bad. It’s a silly ideology, but to him, it made the most sense. He was currently watching the crowd and observing the different dynamics they got going on here. Soon, he felt a presence in front of him and he smiled brightly. 

“Well well. If it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You giggled and playfully rolled your eyes at his compliment. Wooyoung had first met you when you came in with so much stress. You weren’t one to drown your sorrows in alcohol, but you had just about enough. As an event coordinator and a travel planner, it seemed like you could never catch a break. The only upside to your job is that you were self-employed so you were your own boss and you could take as many days off as you want. After the occasions you helped out with, you were definitely taking a month long vacation. 

“Do you say that to all your customers?”

“Of course not, doll. They aren’t as put-together as you.”

“Ok ok fine. Enough with your pretty words. You know the drill.”

“So the usual then?”

You nodded and Wooyoung set straight to work. He decided to put on a little show for you since you expressed that you felt fascinated with the way Wooyoung makes drinks. From a simple whiskey on the rocks to the most complicated cocktail (i.e. the cosmopolitan), you believed he had the magic touch. After Wooyoung set your drink down, you thanked him and took a sip. You were surprised. Your usual, which was green apple Crown Royal mixed with Sprite, tasted stronger than usual. Not that you didn’t mind of course. You had a strong tolerance. However, this normally only had one shot of Crown mixed into it. 

“Woo. Did you put two shots in this?”

“I did. And before you ask, I didn’t fuck up. I added another shot intentionally. After everything you’ve told me, I figured you’d need to relax a bit more.”

Your heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s thoughtfulness and you thanked him by raising your glass to him. He poured his own shot and clinked his glass with you before knocking it back. He set his empty shot glass in the sink and handed you the menu. 

“Order what you want. It’s on the house.”

“Woo, no -”

Wooyoung reached over and put his finger on your lips to shush you. Normally, you would’ve rolled your eyes and shoved his finger off, but for some reason, you felt a bit flustered under his touch today. It definitely wasn’t the alcohol speaking. You weren’t even tipsy yet! Perhaps it’s just the environment you’re in. After all, you were technically in a place where women’s hormones go crazy. Once upon a time, you used to be like them. Now? You had your priorities straight. 

“It’s fine, doll. I mean it.”

“Fine… I’ll take the takoyaki and katsu pork bites please.”

“Want to throw some potstickers in there as well?”

“Sure.”

Wooyoung nodded and took your order to the kitchen while you sipped on your drink. While you were waiting for him, you noticed a girl trying to shrink back into the booth she was at with, who you assumed were, her coworkers. You chuckled as she tried her best to be a wallflower in a place such as Cyberpunk. You also felt bad for her as well. Mingi told you briefly about this woman and you honestly wanted to beat those women’s asses. Sadly, it’s none of your business. The most you can do is wish that she smoothly escapes them as soon as possible. 

“One order of takoyaki, katsu pork bites, and potstickers for my favorite customer.”

Wooyoung’s voice snapped you out of your observant haze quickly and you turned around to see the food placed in front of you. You were salivating. After weeks of eating nothing but healthy food in your own home, you considered today a cheat day. You grabbed your chopsticks and picked up a katsu pork bite before eating it. Apparently, this was a new thing on the menu. 

And you hoped they’d keep it. 

“Woo… this is fucking bomb! Tell the chef to keep this on the menu!”

Wooyoung chuckled smoothly and found your love for bar food so adorable. He made a mental note to do that before he left. As he watched you eat, he couldn’t help but stare at you. The way your hair fell in front of your face (he wanted to reach out and tuck it behind your ear), the way your cheeks puffed up as you kept eating (there were a few crumbs stuck to the corners of your mouth and he wanted to wipe them away with his thumb badly), and the way you drank your strong drink with such poise? Yeah this man is in love. 

“I NEED A ROUND OF SHOTS PLUS THE STRONGEST DRINK YOU HAVE FOR BOOTH 1117!”

Jongho’s voice broke Wooyoung out of his lovestruck stupor and he sighed deeply. He knew which booth Jongho was referring to. Setting to work, he first made the cocktail since it was a longer process. Once the drink was made, he took out a lot of shot glasses and placed them on the tray. 

“WHAT ALCOHOL DO THEY WANT?!”

Jongho asked the customer real quick on what shots they wanted to order before yelling back. 

“SOJU!”

Wooyoung nodded and took out some soju bottles before pouring the spirit into each frosted shot glass. Once he was done, he double checked to make sure everything was in order before shouting out to Jongho.

“A ROUND OF SOJU SHOTS AND A STRONG COCKTAIL!”

Jongho walked over and grabbed the tray once more before placing a dollar bill in front of Wooyoung. It was a tip. A generous one at that. Wooyoung pocketed the money before turning back to you. His eyes widened at the empty plate and they trailed up to you, still sipping on your drink as if you didn’t order so much bar food. 

“Well I’ll be damned. I’m calling you Kirby with the way you practically inhaled that food.”

“That would require me having a black hole for a stomach though, and we both know I don’t have that.”

Wooyoung laughed at your sassy reply and nodded before pouring himself another shot.

“To our aspirations of becoming Kirby!”

You clinked glasses and knocked back your drinks before setting the glass down. Wooyoung took your empty glass and looked back up at you. 

“You want a refill?”

“Nah. It’s ok. I think I’m done for today.” 

“Perfect!”

You were confused as to why Wooyoung said that and said it in that tone. It wasn’t until your eyes landed on an empty shot glass that you realized what he was doing. You immediately shook your head. 

“I have work tomorrow -”

“What time do your clients come in?”

“Uh… around noon or 2 PM.”

“Great! Now come on. Knock one back with me.”

“Wooyoung, I don’t know -”

“Did you drive here? If you did, I’ll take your decline.”

“Well no. My car’s in the shop so I took an uber here…”

“All the more reason to take a shot! Come on. It’s Friday!” 

“Woo…”

Wooyoung took your hand in his and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. You felt more flustered than before and you couldn’t help but find him so handsome underneath the dim lighting of the bar. His black hair was tied back into a small ponytail while two strands hung in front of his face. His jawline was sharp, his lips looked tempting and kissable, and his eyes were shining with mischief and amusement. There was also a sincerity behind them too. 

“You work so hard, Y/N. You deserve this. I’ll take care of you. Like always.”

You didn’t say anything, prompting Wooyoung to continue. 

“I’m not going to lie. I mainly just wanted to flirt with you and get a rise out of you. I’m fine with being friends. However, if you’re on the same wavelength as me, then I will tell you right now. I fell in love with you. I’m so in love with the way you talk, move, and hold yourself. I figured someone like me could never be with someone like you. But I’m willing to shoot my shot and give us a try. The question now is… are you?”

You were taken aback by Wooyong’s confession. The bartender that you like also likes you back. You felt your heart hurt when he said that he doesn’t deserve someone like you when in reality, it’s sort of the vice verse. However, seeing as he’s willing to give it a try, you thought “Fuck it.” in the back of your mind. You were independent, made good money, and had a stable life overall. Why not share that life with someone? You intertwined your fingers with his and a small smile appeared on your face. 

“Yeah… I’m willing to give us a try.”

With that, you both took your shots, and the rest is now history. 

[mikashisus]

EMPIRE OF BLOOD

01. when does a man become a monster

TAGLIST ! @tragedy-of-commons @https-sourlimes @ughscara @yourfavoritefreakyhan @wystiix

NOTES: first chapter yippee!! i actually adore this chapter and it'll be hard for me to have a new fav chapter after this. i think the only chapter that could one-up this one would be the ball chapter, which... will not come until wayyy later. i already wrote half of it. this whole fic has been written out of chronological order LMAOO

WC: 4.3k

masterlist | next

You were eleven years old when you first killed a man. 

The searing pain under your skin did nothing to help the immense shock you felt upon watching as the light left the man’s eyes. 

With shaky hands that were stained entirely in fresh, warm blood, you released him from your grip and watched as his lifeless body fell to the ground. His head lolled to the side, his neck almost completely detached from the rest of his body. 

The ghastly sight made you feel like you were about to vomit. You gagged, a few coughs following after before you wrapped your arms around your middle and hurled up your half eaten breakfast. More coughs followed and you wiped your lips with the hem of your ragged dress. 

A sense of panic welled within you as you realized what you had just done. You scrambled away from the dead body of a Mondstadt nobleman. A few helpless screams left your mouth, loud enough to alert a group of knights nearby. Your throat was burning, your screams coming out in hoarse chokes. 

Finally ripping your eyes away from the man’s maimed body, you stared down at your shaking hands. Your vision blurred as you tried to steady your breathing. It was to no avail. The air in your lungs felt thin, and your throat felt like it was closing up. Your lungs tightened, and it became increasingly harder to breathe. 

At the lack of oxygen, you panicked even more. One of your hands reached up to claw at your throat, leaving trails of crimson stains in its wake. 

A soothing voice pierced your ears amidst the loud ringing. 

“You are not alone. I am here. Breathe. In… and out…” 

You attempted to follow their instructions as best as you could. When your eyes opened, you finally caught sight of your savior— it was a green-clad figure. The voice made it hard to tell their identity, or perhaps they were just androgynous. The image of them was blurred from the tears gathering in your eyes, but you could briefly spot their lips pulling up into a kind smile. 

You glanced behind them at the dead body. The air in your lungs felt thin once more. You wanted to leave, to run far away and never have to see such an ungodly sight ever again. 

Fate had other plans as a comforting hand rested on your back. The androgynous figure was now gone, replaced with a dashing woman whose features were threatening in appearance only. Her pitch black eyes with crimson X’s in the center showed deep concern, accompanied by a frown. 

She gently wiped the tears from your eyes. You blinked rapidly as she did so, the sharpness of her nails just barely stabbing you in the eye. You were able to get a better look at her now that your vision was cleared. 

She was a most gorgeous woman, with fair skin and her hair a mix of black and white. She wore blood red lipstick that contrasted her skin tone. She wore a gray suit with black and crimson accents. The cuffs of her sleeves looked similar to swan feathers. A pin in the shape of a butterfly sat on her collarbone, the deep ruby red gems glowing like menacing eyes under the light of the moon. 

Her hands, also black like the night, were careful as they settled on your shoulders. Three of her nails on each hand were painted red. The other two were black. 

This woman appeared scary, but her comforting touch and her kind words were far from that. Just from her presence alone, you could tell that she was not a threat to you. She was not here to harm you or drag you into the knights’ custody. 

You could tell just from her expression and her aura. 

“Relax,” she whispered. 

Her voice was authoritative, commanding, but there was an underlying softness in the way she spoke to you— as if she knew how to handle children your age. She brushed the hair out of your eyes. 

“There is no need to cry anymore. There is no need to be afraid. You are safe.” 

The kind words of this strange woman surged through you right to your heart. Your lip trembled, and your eyes gathered with tears once more. You shuffled towards her kneeled body, grabbing onto the blazer of her gray suit with fervor. You dug your face into her hold, your cheek resting against her stomach. 

Sobs racked through your tiny body. She did not push you away like you expected. Instead, she knelt into a more comfortable position and gently patted your head as you cried. 

You did not want her to leave. You were desperately hoping that this was not a dream. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. A child of your age needed a parent right now, and your young mind latched onto the only adult figure that cared enough to show you sympathy. 

“Shhh. It’s okay.” She shushed you. “I won’t be going anywhere.” 

You snuggled into her further. Despite your attempts to cling to the only adult figure that showed you mercy and comfort, she did not reciprocate affection like a parent usually would. She had the ability to calm your nerves and soothe your mind, but she did not seem capable enough to coddle you like a mother would to her newborn baby. 

She opted for little physical affection and let her words do the talking instead of her actions. 

It was very fatherly. Not like you would know; you never knew your father— or your mother, for that matter. 

“Come home with me.” She muttered. The words came out more like a statement, a demand, instead of a question. “I will raise you like a strict and unfeeling father.” 

That was how you ended up in a foreign nation’s orphanage, more commonly known as the House of the Hearth. 

The House wasn’t the best place. You came to find that many of the children were wackjobs— some more than others. But the orphanage was better than being thrown into jail for murdering a Mondstadt aristocrat. 

The woman—  Arlecchino, her name was —assured you that your background would be wiped clean. She promised you she would take care of everything regarding the matter of the aristocrat’s murder. You did not know whether to trust her judgment or not, but seeing as there was a roof over your head, food on your plate, and clean clothes at your disposal, you chose to trust her for now.

After all, this was the most attention you have received from an adult in your entire life. You never had more delicious food. In fact, you have never had this much food in your life. Instead of scrounging for scraps in alleyways and stealing more than a few apples from a vendor’s stall, you had three meals a day— including some snacks. 

You no longer had one article of clothing. Arlecchino gifted you with lavish dresses that your younger self could only dream of wearing in her wildest daydreams. You were finally able to wash your body regularly without relying on the nearest river. In fact, you had a whole bathroom with a pristine bathtub, a fluffy towel, and hair and body wash that completely cleaned your whole body. 

Instead of bunching up newspapers to sleep on and shivering in the brisk night breeze, you had a twin sized bed with comfy sheets and a bouncy mattress. Your pillow supported your head and neck, and you got a proper night’s sleep. 

It was like a dream come true. You wondered when this fantasy would end. Indeed it did end— but briefly. 

A few weeks after you settled in, Arlecchino came to have a chat with you. She ushered the other children out of the room and they obeyed without hesitation. She told you the first day she took you in to call her “Father,” to which you did so. But you couldn’t truly start addressing her as such when you did not know how a parent acted towards their child. It was something you would have to get acquainted with over time. 

Of course, she was not going to force you to do anything until you were ready. Except this… 

“This orphanage belongs to a Snezhnayan organization called the Fatui.” 

She did not sugar coat her words, and perhaps that was a greater mercy than lying straight to a child’s face. 

Your frown deepened. Ever so sharp, she caught the action. However, she said nothing. You let out a sigh and looked down at the polished marble flooring of the playroom. Your feet dangled off of the chair you were sitting on, not quite reaching the ground. You always were a bit smaller than your peers. 

Perhaps it had been because of your previous living conditions. 

A soft, “I see” left your lips. 

You knew all about the Fatui. They paraded around the streets of Mondstadt as if they owned the place. The talk of the town always gave you information you wished to know. By hiding in the shadows and listening in on conversations, you quickly learned that the Fatui had close dealings with Mondstadt. 

They were even close allies with impeccable trust five hundred years ago. The same could not be said today. 

Today, they used Mondstadt’s mistakes as leverage for their own gain. You had been tossed around one too many times by a snobby Fatuus that barked at you to “watch where you’re going” and threatened to throw you in jail.

Their threats were no more than harmless jokes in your eyes. You did not care about their words. You were more scared of the Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius than you were of some high ranking Fatui officer. After all, what authority did a Snezhnayan officer have over a Knight in Mondstadt? 

Nothing; Unless they blamed someone else for their wrongdoings and chalked it up to being another one of Mondstadt’s mistakes, further getting their Harbingers or even their Queen involved. That would then lead to foreign affairs with paperwork and more work that had the Knights complaining about how much they hated the Fatui. 

“So you must be a Harbinger then.” 

Arlecchino was surprised by your ability to catch onto things quickly. She silently praised you in that regard. 

“Yes, I am.” She answered your rather rhetorical question. 

“I know what the House of the Hearth is,” you heard about it a few times in passing, “you take in children from all over and raise them to be foot soldiers and sleeper agents for your poor excuse for a Queen.” 

The way you spat out those words was commendable. Arlecchino couldn’t scold you for your raw display of distaste. After all, you were a child of Freedom. You were used to having free will and free speech. 

“I would rather work as one of those deplorable Knights than be a part of your organization.” 

Arlecchino decided she would let this one slide. You hadn’t become an official member of the House yet, so it was unfair to punish you for words of betrayal if you didn’t even officially belong to this organization. So… she let it get swept under the rug just this once. 

Next time, she wouldn’t be so forgetful… nor would she show any mercy. 

She opened her mouth, a deal ready on her lips, when you abruptly continued. “However… you have given me a bed to sleep on and healthy food with proper meals. You have given me a place to bathe and you even let me play with real toys. I suppose… living here wouldn’t be so bad.” 

You were only a child. She thought you were a bit more mature for your age before, but considering how you completely disregarded the House’s initial purpose, she now believed otherwise. 

You were looking forward to living in a real home with a real family. You did not consider that you were selling your soul to the devil— that you would be bound to this organization for the rest of your life. If you tried to leave, well… betrayal wasn’t taken lightly here. 

“If you stay,” Arlecchino began, her voice stern like usual, “you can never return to the life of freedom you once lived.” 

Was she giving you an out? It sure didn’t sound like it earlier. You searched her eyes, only to find nothing. She was adept at masking her emotions. 

A sigh left your lips. “I would take here over how I lived before. I had nothing.” 

“You had freedom—“ 

“How much of that did I really have if I was slowly dying before you found me?” You looked up at her, a hopeless expression dancing in your pupils. 

She reconsidered her thoughts once more. Maybe you were smarter than what she gave you credit for. 

With the deal sealed, she stood from her seat next to you and nodded curtly. “Alright,” you were now one of her children, “welcome to the House of the Hearth. From this day forward, I am officially your ‘Father.’” 

The other children in the House were more than excited to have a new sibling. However, you wanted nothing to do with them. 

To you, they were crazed animals with unusual interests and an unwavering loyalty to Arlecchino. Most of them, actually. Not all of the children saw her as their savior. 

Even so, you were not intending to make friends or get close enough to call anyone your sibling. You stayed in your corner, staring at the wall more often than not, and wondering why you chose to stay. 

It was not like you had anywhere else to go, though. You were a child, you could not support yourself in the real world yet. And if you were sent back to Mondstadt, who knew what would happen to you. You might not even make it that far out of Fontaine before getting killed. 

Based on the way you mutilated that aristocrat though, you might have a chance. But your option to leave was now severed. You were officially a member of the House. If you tried to leave, you would lose your life. That was one of the most important rules of the House: betrayal was punishable by death. 

Your legs dangled off the side of your twin sized bed. Gently knocking your feet together, you stared down at your flats. This was the first pair of shoes you ever owned, and Arlecchino had been the one to give them to you. 

White with black lace trimming and a small black bow on top. The design engraved into the sides of the shoe resembled that of a swan’s wings. The flats fit you perfectly, as if they were made for your feet only. 

A small smile graced your lips as you continued to study the shoes with a great deal of admiration. You would cherish these shoes with every ounce of care you had left in your heart. 

Two figures stood outside the doorway to the bedroom that you shared with three other girls. Arlecchino had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you silently. You refused to talk to any of the children, and although the desire to be alone was something she greatly understood, she felt a small ounce of worry settle in her gut. 

If you did not make friends, then you would have no allies… and no allies in a world filled with threats coming at you from every angle meant you were completely alone with no one to help you in times of need. 

Problem children were a common occurrence in any family. You happened to be the newest one on her roster. Your refusal to just about everything was beginning to make her aggravated. She tolerated it the first two weeks because of your upbringing and severe trust issues, but now it was getting out of hand. 

Disobedient children had to be punished. 

“Stop staring daggers into the back of the poor girl’s head.” The pompous voice of her coworker entered her ears. 

Signora crossed her arms over her chest and sent you a sympathetic look. A sigh left her lips. “The poor girl. Another child abandoned by the Wind. If she harnesses that hatred and fuels it into revenge, she—“ 

Arlecchino let out a long sigh and briefly closed her eyes. “She has no need for revenge, Rosalyne. I am merely giving her a home. If she desires to be great, then I will make her great.” 

The blonde woman let out a scoff. “Why am I talking to you like you’re a proper parent? You’re not even twenty years old yet.” She waved Arlecchino off. “No matter. I shall talk to her.” 

With that, Signora sauntered her way into the bedroom. Arlecchino’s eye twitched involuntarily. The two did not get on like close friends, but Arlecchino still respected Signora greatly. She watched as the much older woman knelt down in front of you. 

Maybe her words could finally persuade you to make some friends. 

The sound of footsteps made you look up from your shoes. Your gaze met the icy cold eyes of a mature woman with long blonde hair that reached her knees, and rose colored lips. She wore a long, red and white dress that hugged her curves, with a slit on both sides, exposing her long legs. Her black heels clacked along the marble floor as she came to stand in front of you. 

A large, white coat with black fur lining the hood hung around her shoulders. She was elegant and poised in everything she did, even as she knelt down to be eye level with you. 

Her white earrings jingled at her movement, as did the chains on her winter coat. You did not know why she needed a winter coat when it was currently summer in Fontaine. Surely she had to be sweating right now. 

Her gloved hands came to rest in her lap delicately as a kind smile tugged at her lips. You found it to be somewhat genuine. A trace of uncertainty laid underneath, like she had not smiled in years. 

“My name is Rosalyne,” she spoke, her taunting voice entering your ears, “may I know yours?” 

You hesitated. What was this woman trying to do? Did she want information out of you? You did not have any to give. Why was she here? A friend of your Father’s perhaps? 

“(Name).” You muttered. 

The woman, Rosalyne, nodded. “That's a beautiful name. What does—“ 

“Why are you here?” Your brows narrowed. What was she trying to achieve? 

You barely knew her, and yet you could already read her like a book. She was not as kind as she seemed to be. She was holding up a mask, effortlessly hiding behind it. 

Rosalyne huffed, her annoyance apparent with the slight twitching of her eye. She simply smiled. You were willing to test her patience to see how long she could keep up the nice guy act. 

Instead of allowing her anger to take over, she took a deep breath. Her smile vanished, replaced with a frown that you assumed to be the real her. Her voice grew softer as she spoke.

“I was also born in Mondstadt.” That line alone grabbed your attention. “But I would not consider myself a child of the Wind like other Mondstadt natives.” 

There was a passion in her voice, along with a deep rooted hatred. Every word that left her lips pertaining to the Nation of Freedom was spat out as if she could not even stand the thought, let alone talk about, her home.

You did not love the people of Mondstadt. They treated you like a disease. But the Wind always favored you. You found yourself curling up on the soft grass near the tree in Windrise more often than not. You even considered Windrise your home for a time. 

The fresh breeze was refreshing. It cooled your skin and warmed your heart. It comforted you on nights where you could not stand to survive any longer. It wrapped its arms around you and gently shushed you when you cried. 

You did not love the people of Mondstadt… but you sure as hell loved the Wind and the scenery of your home. You missed the open fields and the jutted cliffs. You missed the wide, cloudless, starry sky and the outline of Celestia in the sky when the moon crossed behind it. 

You missed the afternoon breeze and the tolling of the bells on top of the cathedral. You missed dandelions, and picking fresh berries on sunny days. You would forever miss the atmosphere of the streets of the city, and the lively songs of the bards on each corner. 

But you would never miss the people— their words spat in your face and the way they wanted nothing to do with you. 

Unlike Rosalyne, you still considered yourself a child of the Wind. You thought of yourself as such because of your close connection and love for the Wind. You assumed she did not want to associate herself with the title because of some resentment she harbored towards the Anemo Archon and the people of Mondstadt. 

You were indifferent in your thoughts about the Anemo Archon. What did it matter that he did not rule Mondstadt personally? The people could take care of themselves just fine without the guidance of a god. So why did some harbor hatred towards him for his absence? 

To you, his absence was all you knew. Besides… didn’t he return every harvest season to bless the wine and the land? What more did the people want from him? 

He had always been an absent Archon, as far as you were concerned, and you would much rather have him be absent than be a helicopter parent like Inazuma’s Archon. 

“Do you miss Mondstadt?” you found yourself asking, out of pure curiosity. 

Rosalyne’s pretty gray eyes widened significantly, before she looked away from you. She stood up and took a seat next to you on the neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her winter coat and folded it delicately beside her. She placed her hands in her lap. 

“It has been quite a while since I returned,” she said. Her voice cracked a little, so fleeting you almost missed it. Her shoulders slacked. “But I wouldn’t say I miss it. I do miss the memories I made there… but that was a long time ago. Dwelling on the past won’t do me any good.” 

You looked up at her, studying her stoic expression. There was a hint of sadness that flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. You noticed her shoulders tense once more. 

It seemed as long as she put up that mask, she could not fully relax. 

Her tone switched to one filled with affection. “I have something for you.” She dug through the pocket of her large winter coat and sent you a smug smile. “Close your eyes.” 

Instead of closing your eyes, you opted to turn your head away. You did not trust closing your eyes. The last time someone told you to… —no, you could not remember that now of all times. You wish you could forget it. 

“Hold out your hand.” 

You did as told. Something fluffy was placed into your hand, and you turned around to face her once more. Sitting in your hand was a wolf plush. It had gray fur and black beady eyes. Its tail was bushy, and its snout was long. 

A look of confusion crossed over your face as you looked up to meet Rosalyne’s gaze. A genuine smile rested on her lips as she placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“When your Father told me a child from Mondstadt arrived, I simply had to bring you a gift.” She told you, her voice dripping with affection akin to the kind a mother held for their child. “Since wolves are highly prominent to the nation, I decided on this rather than a Windwheel Aster.” 

Truthfully, you would have loved any gift she gave you.

This was the first time you were ever receiving a gift. To say it touched your heart had been an understatement, as your lip trembled and you broke out into uncontrollable sobs. Is this what it was like to be thought of in a good light? Is this what it was like to be cared for and loved? 

Rosalyne, who barely knew you for more than a half hour, had spent her own time and money on a gift for you when she did not know you yet. 

She panicked a little as you cried, her hands reaching out to grab your shoulders. You could hear her mumble “what should I do” under her breath a few times before she pulled you closer to her and patted you on the back. 

You eagerly wrapped your arms around her middle and dug your face into her side. Her whole body was oddly cold to the touch. A shiver ran down your spine from the severe drop in temperature of her body compared to Arlecchino’s extremely warm one. 

Her bare skin was even colder. The gap in the sides of her dress that revealed her fair skin made that clear. As soon as your arm touched her skin, you pulled it back to rest on the back of her dress. The freezing cold lingered on your own skin for a while after, chilling you to the bone. 

Her awkward pats on your head turned to slow strokes of her fingers through your hair, and her uneasy mutters turned to a soft hum of a lullaby from her lips. Her arms felt secure, like a warm fire in the middle of winter. 

She cradled you as if you were her own, and in a hushed tone, whispered resolutely, 

“We’ll show them. We’ll show them all.” 

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[the-iceni-bitch]

All My Girls With Their Lace and Their Crimes

Relationship: Pete Brenner (pookie) x stripper!fem!reader (candy) Poison Paradise AU

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Pete done fucked up… again.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, begging, body worship), reader is the biggest brat on the planet, Pete is pussy whipped, adultery, allusion to crime, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Poison Paradise has a new couple! Fucked up in a whole new kind of way. She’s a brat, he’s a lech, it’s all filthy fun.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“Wait… baby!” Pete practically whined when you shoved him out of the dressing room and into the alley, trying not to look too abashed when Lucas and Chris were right there taking a smoke break. “Gentlemen… shit!”

“Take your stupid fucking flowers!” You were screeching at him, but that wasn’t anything new. “Get the fuck out! I can’t fucking believe you actually came here!”

He winced when you started beating him with the bouquet he had shown up with, sighing to himself as he just stood there and took your abuse while the other men gave him a pair of bemused expressions. This was far from the worst they had seen, you tended to get worked up pretty often. Especially when he flaked out on plans he had made with you.

“Candy, it’s not like I knew my in-laws were coming to town!” He spluttered when he got a face full of chrysanthemums. “Sweetheart, I said I was sorry!”

“Go back to your wife!” You threw the ruins of the bouquet to the ground and stamped your feet, growling at him before turning on your heel and storming back into the club. “I have to go dance. I don’t want to see you again, you fucking asshole!”

“She’ll come around,” Pete did his best to look unperturbed as he brushed the copious flower petals from his suit, accepting the cigarette Lucas offered him and bending to let him light it. “She always comes around.”

“She sure does, buddy,” Chris clapped him on the back, chuckling softly around his own cigarette when Pete leaned back against the wall looking exhausted and defeated.

Sure, it usually took a hell of a lot of groveling, but you did come around. Mostly. It’s not like he tried to piss you off on purpose. But his wife would have him by the fucking balls if they got a divorce, or if she thought he was cheating. He had to do his best to appease the bitch. The frigid, uptight, snooty bitch. Damn he hated her.

Pete considered going in to watch you dance, but then he remembered the last time he did that when you had just thrown a tantrum. There was still a scar on his thigh from where you tried to stab him with your heel. So he just decided to slink to the bar and nurse his wounds. Nothing like a good half a bottle of bourbon to drown the way pissing you off made him feel like a kicked puppy. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go home to his wife. He needed you.

After four hours and perhaps a little bit more than half a bottle of bourbon he needed you even more. Like, damn he needed you bad. He was pouting like a little bitch when he hailed down a cab, groaning and mumbling about how much he wanted your pussy under his breath while they drove to the apartment he paid for. When he remembered it was a walk up he cursed, slipping into the door when someone else came out so he didn’t have to buzz you and sighing before starting to climb the stairs to your place. By the time he got there he felt even more needy, leaning against your door and pounding on it with a prayer that you were home.

“Candy!” His voice was so loud, but when he saw the light under your door come on he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Candy, open the door! C’mon baby, please!” Someone screamed at him to shut the fuck up and he screamed back, determined to get you to let him in because he was aching. “Candy! Candy, let me in, sweetheart! Lemme see my girl! Candy!”

“Fuck, Pete!” You looked so beautiful when you opened the door. And mad. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Baby,” he huffed at you shoving him away when he tried to kiss you, playing with the hem of your nightie for just a moment until you slapped his hand away. “Baby, don’t be like that. I missed you…”

“Yeah, you fucking missed me,” you snorted and turned away from him, knowing that he was going to follow you without having to look back. “You missed me, you’re sorry. That’s not gonna stop you from ditching me to play house with your cunt wife. We were supposed to have a whole weekend.”

“I know,” Pete caught up to you and managed to kiss your bare shoulder before you pulled away from him. “I wanted to treat you like you deserve. Show you off on my arm like the gorgeous thing you are. I feel so bad, babygirl. Lemme make it up to you…”

“Make it up to me,” you rolled your eyes and turned to face him, sitting down on the foot of your bed and watching him closely when he stopped in your bedroom doorway. “Well? Get to it.”

Pete dropped to his knees immediately, whimpering as he crawled to you on all fours and tried not to lose it when you uncrossed and recrossed your legs so he got just a peek of your bare pussy. His mouth was full of saliva as he gazed at you with pure devotion, the desperation he was feeling blatantly obvious. As soon as he reached you he bent lower to kiss along the arch of your foot, his eyes fixed on your face as you continued to stare at him disdainfully. There was the barest flicker of approval from you when he licked each of your toes and he seized on that, cupping your heel in his hand and sucking your big toe into his mouth with a low groan to try to coax you towards a more magnanimous mood.

You tutted at him when he started to kiss his way up your calf, nudging his shoulder with your other foot until he gripped it gently and ran his tongue along your arch nice and slow. A soft sigh escaped from your lips when he bit the pad of your big toe gently, giving him his cue to start mouthing at your calf with a moan.

“Mm, I’m so sorry,” Pete sucked against the inside of your knee and melted when you rewarded him with a whine. “Missed my Candy so much. Hated being away from you and your precious little pussy.”

“Pookie…” you gasped when he nibbled up your inner thigh until his face was buried in the crease of your hip. “You promise you’ll take me to Atlantic City next weekend?”

“I’ll take you for a whole week, Candy baby,” he kissed every inch of your mound before burying his face in your cleft and inhaling deeply. “Buy my babygirl that tennis bracelet you’ve been wanting for so long.”

“Thank you, pookie,” you ran your hand through his hair when he flung your legs over his shoulders. “Lick my pussy now.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, a groan escaping from him when he swiped his tongue over your slit. Tasting you was the sweetest thing in the damn world, he could never get enough of it. He kissed every inch of your puffy lips before licking you again, slower this time, the heavy drag of his tongue making your eyes flutter and his chest swell with pride at pleasing you. Pete took a moment to savor the flavor of your delicious cunt before diving back in, circling your swollen bud with the tip of his tongue until he felt you shiver then sucking it firmly between his lips with a heady grunt. Two of his fingers slipped between your petals until they were engulfed in the slick warmth of your perfect pussy. He immediately sunk them knuckle-deep and curled them against the front wall of your cunt, stroking that ultra-sensitive spot inside you fervently and flicking his tongue over your clit in a effort to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

The sound of you gasping in ecstasy had him growling against your heated flesh, giving a few shakes of his head to press his face as deep in your folds as possible. When you started to writhe shamelessly against his face he felt like he was in heaven, the movement of his fingers growing frantic when he felt your inner muscles starting to ripple around them. He never wanted to stop feasting on you, your taste flooding his senses until he felt even more drunk and his cock throbbing painfully against his fly.

You collapsed back against the mattress when you felt your core growing tight, burying your hands in his hair and kicking your feet against his back. Your movements grew desperate, shuddering violently, bucking your hips, basically riding his face as he railed you with his fingers. “Oh… oh, fuck yes! Eat my pussy just like that, pookie! Nngh, I’m so close!” He added a third finger and you were so close to losing it you were almost in pain. Sobs of pleasure were ripped from your chest over and over, your thighs closing tightly around his head and holding him in place while you undulated on top of his pistoning fingers. You couldn’t even remember why you had been pissed at him. “Ah, fuck it’s coming! Don’t you dare stop sucking my clit! Fuck fuck fuck… I’m coming!”

Pete doubled his efforts, attacking your clit with even greater fervor, sucking and tonguing it frenetically as he pumped his fingers so fast and deep the wet sounds coming from your cunt grew even more obscene. “Yes, please baby… pookie wants your cream so bad,” He pressed the flat of his tongue directly against your swollen nub and massaged it with quick flicks, burying his fingers to the knuckle and rubbing your g-spot aggressively. His free hand slid up your body so he could palm your bouncing tits, plucking at your stiff nipples and squeezing your curves gently until your breath caught and your back arched violently.

Your scream rattled the windows. Every muscle in your body spasmed violently as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls fluttering madly around Pete’s fingers while you squirted a flood of sweet juices all over his lower face until the collar of his shirt was soaked. It was so intense your vision whited out and you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. By the time you came down he was still kneeling between your thighs, looking appropriately obsequious as he gently kissed every inch of your still quivering flesh.

“Come here and kiss me, pookie,” you smiled at him as he crawled up your body. “Lemme taste how good your apology was.”

The sight of you lying splayed out on the bed, your nightie in disarray and the neon lights from the street outside your window making your messy pussy glisten for him, it was enough to drive him to insanity. Pete groaned as he crawled up your body, making sure to kiss your stomach and breasts and neck so not a single inch of your body felt neglected. But you were impatient, grabbing him by his hair and smashing your lips against his. He groaned into your mouth as you stroked his tongue with yours, cradling your face in his hands and grinding his aching cock against your stomach.

“Mmm, you did so good, pookie,” you pecked him on the lips a few more times before rolling onto your side. “Okay, g’night!”

“Wait, baby!” He was so fucking hard and his balls were throbbing, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep. “Candy, I need you sweetheart, please…”

“Well I’m tired, and still annoyed,” you just huffed as you reached out to turn off the lamp on your nightstand, scowling at him over your shoulder when he whined and pressed his bulge against your hip. “You can wait to get that thing wet until the morning. I think it’ll do you good to go without, pookie. Give you time to think about your priorities.”

Pete just blinked at you, whimpering under his breath before flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling fan. If he had to wait for the morning he would just sleep with blue balls. It wouldn’t be the first time. Loving you was torture, but damn it was sweet.

[diacripticcomplex]

Shu x Yui (Dark)

“Please…! I’ve had enough..! It hurts so much!” She sobbed, of course it was going to hurt, I was purposely cutting her deeply. My fangs should be enough for her but lately she’s been acting up. Thinking I’m too lazy or too in my own head to realize what she’s been doing, fucking around with other guys. I’m not stupid but she’s not my girlfriend so i technically shouldn’t give a shit. And honestly I don’t, I enjoy indulging in her blood, and I enjoy having sex with her but that’s about it…hurting her like this gives me great satisfaction as well, I’m usually never this energetic but I caught her fucking one of those mukami bastards, the one that looks just like Edgar, it kind of hit a nerve for me. She looked like she was having the time of her life with him and here I came in ruining her short lived fun.

I lick my blade before I stab it into her lower abdomen. She lets out a sharp gasp before giving me a horrified look. “Shu..are you trying to kill me..?!” She asks me, I let out a sadistic chuckle. “Maybe..” I tell her as I grab her jaw, clutching it firmly. “I forgot how much fun it was torturing you” she looks like she’s about to be sick to her stomach, I’m truly having the time of life here.

“Why am I being punished…I don’t understand”

“You chose me to protect you or whatever..and then you go and get yourself fucked by the Mukamis..are you sure you don’t understand why you’re being punished..?”

“He came onto me..! How is that my fault??”

“Oh..so you were raped?”

Her face flushed away and you could see guilt in her eyes.

“I heard you calling out his name…your moans were like music to my ears, you were in so much pleasure”

“That’s not-“ she began to say but I cut her off, pushing her down. She winced at the sudden movement and the fact she hit her head. Maybe I am being too violent..but I don’t really care if she dies right now, like Laito says, that means her soul will be mine forever…not that I want to be haunted but I wouldn’t mind it.

“I’m losing too much blood..” she whispers out then blacks out into a deep sleep. I look up at the moon, still full and potent. I take her numb body and chain her up by the wall. The blood smelled so sweet, sticking to her skin like that, the wounds I created were oozing less than before. I plop myself down across the wall from her , watching as she slept, I close my eyes too and drift into a light sleep.

[cluescorner]

A Batman who kills people is a bad Batman. Except for Terry because he is my special boy. Terry can drown a man it's ok. He can literally shatter a woman it's fine.

[oneluckydragon]

"Suddenly the world was gray and dull and my heart was so heavy I felt like I couldn’t move, let alone make it back to Treasure Town. But because of Echo’s last wish… I was able to keep living.”

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

SORA : (Partner)

Abilities: Justified / Inner Focus

Nature: Gentle / Hardy

Moveset: Aura Sphere / Metal Claw / Poison Jab / Dragon Pulse

[greg-montgomery]

pen loved hotch the most out of everyone on the team imo 😶

[utilitycaster]

I genuinely believe the fact that so many popular Imogen/Laudna fics are no-powers AU is, if not the main cause, at least a factor in why so many people resist or even are hostile towards any interpretation of Imogen that isn't largely sweet and harmless. Like, write the fic you want, but Imogen in particular is someone so fundamentally shaped by her powers that to write a no powers AU is to write what is essentially a completely original character who happens to share her name.

I think it's made even more obviously a factor because many of those fics try to reconstruct aspects of Imogen's personality by giving her anxiety or agoraphobia (or both) but the problem is that those are purely mental illnesses, rather than something that both gives her powers and penalties (again, the X-Men problem). Some real-world mental illnesses cover the symptoms of Imogen's abilities, but none cover the abilities themselves. It's quite literally a removal of agency: they take away what she can (and frequently does) do with her powers, leaving only the negative effects on her behind while eliminating the negative effects she can have on others. No wonder there's this overwhelming push to woobify her from that corner; they've utterly defanged her and are now crying that other people who can still see her fangs (and even like them) are talking about them.

And the thing is, for all I can be negative about fanon, it is, ultimately, fine - so long one can either keep it separate in one's mind from canon or else remain in a particular fanon sandbox. But unfortunately people leave the sandbox, and when other people respond to the canon Imogen, who as of episode 81 (RIP CRStats) has voluntarily used Detect Thoughts/Open Mind 60 times and has openly stated her intent to use it specifically to know what her party members are doing in advance and theoretically prevent it, the fanfic crowd is utterly unable to react to this intelligently. The idea of Imogen they have is sweet girl with severe anxiety and a goth girlfriend. The problem is this construct exists only in their favorite fanfic writers' domestic fluff modern AU no powers setting. And frankly, I'm not interested in talking about that warped mirror version of her when I could have all the fascination, complexity, glory, and agency of the real thing.

[summertimemusician]

Unenlighted: Sky and Wild don't have that good of a relationship due to Sky's guilt and Wild not feeling he's good enough when compared to any of his predecessors because he failed the kingdom once and it gets exacerbated by the events of TOTK, similar case with Flora and Sun.

Enlightened: Sky and Wild have a pretty good relationship, but it's still strained because of both their problems and the strain grows bigger after TOTK when Fi breaks, Sun likes Flora just fine as a descendant while Flora is incessantly tormented by the fact she always believed her entire life she'd never measure up to the other Zelda's because she couldn't fulfill her duty anymore than Wild could, and it causes communication.

Ascended: Sky and Twilight having a full blow custody war in the back because they both see Wild as a better successor than he believes himself to be due to the parallels to BOTW, TOTK and Skyward Sword even though it's technically Twilight Princess' spiritual sucessor (since it was originally made to be a sequel to that game) and Sky and Wild both get along well with one another, and instead of getting angry at Wild for breaking Fi he's more so worried for him and her equally (and then has to be held back by the rest of the Chain along with Twi to not eviscerate whatever's left of Ganondorf's body) meanwhile Sun all but surprise adopted Flora as a sister and is super supportive of all her pursuits and number one hype woman because she was as unhinged as her at her age and Flora is flabbergasted but really really happy and relieved she doesn't see her as a disappointment or anything and they get along like the sister she never had growing up. Specially since they can both bond over not being quite regular humans anymore and can help one another deal and learn more about it.

I will not elaborate.

[ginsoakedgirl80]

[saltwatersweets]

i like to imagine that sometime in between ep7 and ep8, charlie takes vaggie to cannibal town to help train some of the residents who will fight in the upcoming extermination, and while visiting vaggie sees the kid she spared and maybe gets to have a proper conversation with him and/or his family

[abeluser]

I propose Cry of Fear dlc/game that follows the plot of Alesana's album 'The Emptiness' (2009)

[omgafhsfanin2024]

It's him!! The guy with the inconsistent design!!! (I'm bored as fuck)

I'm still not done with the redesign I have no idea what to do with her clothes

[llumimoon]

literally still thinking abt the liveshow. like that will be burned into my memory but also im SO SAD bc i think bc of technical difficulties this show isn't actually being uploaded to the paetron BUT IT WAS GENUINELY SO FUCKING GOOD. Like the dads as teens interacting with the s2 teens ??????? the dads as babies ???????? GENUINELY? I WISH I COULD BEAM MY MEMORY OF THIS SHOW INTO ALL UR BRAINS i need more ppl to know of its existence so i can scream about it. Also never fucking recovering from emo teenager henry actually

[constantvariations]

Getting angry at how the writers Jinn favored team rwby with a whole ass cinematic exposition dump while shrugging Oz's question off with two words. She doesn't even grant him the courtesy of a hint! Would it really have been that hard for her to add some sort of clarification like "you cannot defeat her but you can guide the simple soul that can" or "should you find yourself with silver eyes, you may have a chance"?

If that Ozcarnation came before the schools' conception, it would add so much more meaning to them and throw far more shade on Oz than lying and magic birds