#It looks majestic and imposing

[inufaiya]

More drawings of the knight Dedede, this time using his powers (magic) in addition to showing a detail of his cape, he can transform it into a pair of pelican wings and tail.

This is an invention and gift from his master in magic (a rather important Halcandran, he is Ignus's father, who was not going to take advantage of the opportunity to get to know the mysterious pengu better), Marcus (for the same reason as the cat), Solaris and Silver (an almost white puff with white feathered wings who is a good friend of Solaris and father of a certain pearl champion xD) when he entered the order he was given as much freedom as his companions… Although he still prefers more be on land or sea than flying xD

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Más dibujos del Dedede caballero, está vez usando sus poderes (magia) además de mostrar un detalle de su capa, lo puede transformar en un par de alas, y cola, de pelícano.

Esta es un invento y regalo de su maestro en magia (un Halcandran bastante importante, es el padre de Ignus, que no iba a aprovechar la oportunidad de conocer mejor al misterioso pengu), Marcus (por la misma razon que el gato), Solaris y Silver (un puff casi blanco con alas emplumada de blancas que es un buen amigo de Solaris y padre de cierto campeon perlado xD) le dieron cuando entró en la orden pueda tener tanta libertad como sus compañeros… Aunque aún y así prefiere más estar en tierra o mar que volando xD

[ozzgin]

Hi, first i wanted to thank you for doing my first request, it's amazing 😍. Since you did it so fast i wanted to ask for something else.

Could you do something with a Prehistoric reader. She's from the Jurassic like Pickle, she was frozen and brought back to life like him. However she's less agressive and a bit smarter than him. I kinda saw her like a big ( dangerous ) mama Bear, who likes those tiny humans.

I trust you for the rest, you can choose if you want to write about first meeting with fighters (which i find funny in the anime by the way ), how she was during Pickle's fight or what's her interactions with the fighters ...

Thank you for reading this , bye.

I’m so glad you enjoyed it! The speed may vary depending on how easily I can visualize the prompt, since I need a solid movie in my head before putting it into words. Not very efficient but so far it’s been working haha. :’)

Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader

Featuring Pickle’s challengers: Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Jack Hanma and Baki Hanma.

Backstory

A million thoughts raced the scientists’ minds upon discovering not just one, but two subjects perfectly maintained within the saline block. Were you partners? Would it be possible or expected that you continue your ancient lineage? While the idea was incredibly tempting from a researcher’s perspective, it was equally dangerous. They considered separating the two of you in order to avoid the risk, but they soon discovered that your help was needed to protect everyone else from the enraged prehistoric man.

The female specimen seemed to have a much more docile and cooperative temperament, with strong maternal instincts. Could it be that she viewed the much smaller modern humans as children? (Y/N) wasn’t that dumb. She could very well tell that these new forms of her own image are matured, but she could also easily asses how fragile they are based on their extreme fear and helplessness against Pickle. They haven’t showed any intent to attack her or Pickle, so she had no reason to be hostile. Pickle was rather frustrated by her frequent scolding, but his expressions seemed to indicate that (Y/N) always had a kind heart towards weaker creatures and it wasn’t his first time having to satisfy her pity. He begrudgingly accepted it.

The Meeting

Truth be told, most of the men had gathered in order to measure up Pickle’s strength. And he was eager to prove it after his quick encounter with Yuujirou’s mysterious techniques. It was only when you stood up and let out a warning growl that they realized the faint beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. Pickle had immediately cleared the way and even the Ogre himself grounded his stance, ready for anything. What a majestic creature, they all thought. Feminine beauty carefully chiseled into a powerful physique, adorned with muscles that would put any bodybuilder today to shame. The same arms that lovingly cradle infants with motherly devotion could easily crush bones and twist frail bodies.

The smell of fear lingered for aggravatingly long moments. You gently placed your large hand on Yuujirou’s shoulder and used the other one to point behind him. Only then did they notice the bright helicopter lights and pleading voices asking them to evacuate. You were looking out for them.

Kaiou Retsu

He’d love to challenge you. Truly. But not only are you a woman, you’ve also never shown Pickle’s excitement for battle. He respects your decision and would never impose his wishes on you.

After his fight with Pickle, he wakes up intact and notices you standing over his wounded body. A miserable smile spreads over his face as the realization hits him: you just don’t want to harm them. That’s why you never fight.

He’s not sure what hurts most. The damage Pickle has done, or his ego after realizing that all you have for them is pity. He’s going to need to find other ways to impress you.

Retsu later catches you trying to reproduce some of his moves and wonders if he’d be allowed to teach you martial arts. Or would that make you too dangerous?

Katsumi Orochi

Unlike Retsu, the damage he’s done to his arm couldn’t be prevented. You allow Pickle to remove the limb given the extensive injury.

Like a father that just played too hard with his children, Pickle follows you around apologetically, as if explaining he had no fault in this.

Katsumi is a little shocked to find you in his hospital room. Embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state by someone like you, he waves his arm frantically and rattles the sheets, mumbling explanations and reassurances. You just stare in confusion. He forgot you can’t understand language.

You wonder if he can survive with one missing limb, as back in your day this handicap could’ve proven fatal in the long run. Should you provide the food for him? The hospital staff entrusts you to deliver Katsumi his meals after they noticed you hunting in the guest garden.

You insist on helping with grooming duties like hair brushing, though Katsumi had to thoroughly gesticulate he’s not as open to being naked in front of you. Please don’t assist him when he’s changing his clothes. Let him have the last remaining bit of manliness.

Jack Hanma

How stubborn! Jack is the first one to feel your mama bear anger. After the fight with Pickle he kept coming back for more, despite being barely conscious. Pickle was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting you and would throw you worried looks, unsure how to proceed. Eventually you put Jack in a headlock and dragged him back to the hospital yourself.

The next time Jack wakes up, he notices you standing in the door frame, arms folded and flexed in a threatening manner. He can’t help but chuckle at the view. To think that a woman would have such an iron grip on him. Well, you’re no ordinary woman.

As before, you’re unsure of his recovering abilities. You attempt to feed him yourself several times and Jack has to politely suggest that he’s not as frail as you might think. Though somewhere deep down he might secretly enjoy being spoiled like this. He’d never, ever admit it.

Baki Hanma

Baki took you through a rollercoaster of emotions; from being worried that such a tiny, young boy insists on challenging the prehistoric man to squealing in shock at his unexpected strength. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to defeat him if you were standing there instead of Pickle.

Unlike the others, Baki has no issue relying on you. In fact, he’s almost shameless about it. Absolutely he is too injured to walk! You can go ahead and carry him. He’ll quickly wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you, grinning.

I think he’d really love the idea that someone as strong as you is also kind and likable. He doesn’t have to worry about proving himself or that you’d look down on him. He’s really craving this newly fond protectiveness of a mother.

He likes teasing Pickle by holding onto you whenever he sees you. The Jurassic man has been on the edge ever since you’ve started becoming attached to these tiny humans. He almost can’t get a moment alone with you. Which makes him extra irritable. You sigh at the two menaces that find new ways to mess with you.

[yawnderu]

Seasons Don't Fear The Reaper — Death!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Life!Reader

Ice and fire, acid and stone; life and death. Two complete opposites coming together, forming a never-ending cycle. Your creations will inevitably go to him once their time has come, and you've come to accept every single life you create with your bare hands is a gift to Death.

"My old friend." You recognize the voice immediately, yet your attention is focused on the field of white roses surrounding you, the beautiful lake making his imposing figure look almost majestic. He takes a seat next to you, skull gloved hand lowering the hood of his cloak before his hand is on your waist, holding you close.

"Death." You greet, gaze drifting up towards him, taking in all the details of his bare face, a sight reserved for you only. His brown eyes are focused on you, not feeling uncomfortable by the way you're examining his features.

"You look as lovely as ever." Your bare hands trace the length of his scythe, head leaning on his shoulder as you look up at him with nothing short of raw adoration.

"I got something in your honor." He lifts an eyebrow with curiosity as you raise the sleeve of your white dress, showing a highly detailed black tattoo of the grim reaper, a skull instead of his handsome face. A small chuckle of amusement comes out of him, lips curling up into a small smirk.

"Brave girl." He compliments, smirk growing wider as he lifts the sleeve of his cloak just to reveal a tattoo you've never seen among his existing sleeve— a dove, one wing stretched out, the other one guarding its heart. It was old, healed a long time ago, yet he never once mentioned it.

"Why'd you never tell me?" You ask curiously, hand drifting up to gently caress his bare cheek.

''You didn't ask.'' His hand rests on top of yours, easily dwarfing it.

''Was I supposed to read your mind?'' He simply nods his head, planting a gentle kiss on your palm before his fingers intertwine with yours. His touch is gentle as he changes positions, getting on his knees while his other hand rests on your hip, slowly lowering you onto the soft, green grass.

Simon's head rests comfortably on your chest, your hands coming up to run through his short, cropped hair, a smile forming on your lips at the content sigh coming out of him.

''Do you know what they say? How seasons don't fear the rea—'' His warm hand is gently planted over your mouth, muffling your laugh.

''Don't. Just... Don't.''

[slytherintrikru]

— || Revenge is Sweet || —

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x gryffindor!muggleborn!reader (SHE’S OF AGE) 

Word count: 6224

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 16+, fingering, clit rubbing, cock in Vigina, male and female, adult content, adult language, cuss words, clit licking, degrading, fluff if you squint, pet names, anguish, cheating, heartbreak, revenge, crying, Lucius comforting Y/N?, aftercare, praise, daddy kink, cum swallowing, fluff, out of character Lucius, 2 almost 3 years after the 2nd wizarding war, younger woman with older man, first time together, heated make out session, kissing, hickeys, love bites, SFW if you squint. (SHE IS OF AGE) 

Summary: Y/N wanted to surprise Draco by visiting him at the Malfoy Manor but ended up catching him cheating instead. While leaving she bumps into Lucius Malfoy and things get kinda heated. (SHE’S OF AGE)

Requested: by no one this is my idea 

A/N: Hello, my fellow Dreamers, hope you like this. Please give me your feedback. BTW I also already posted this on my AO3 account @ slytherintrikru.

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Y/N navigated her way up the meandering, earthy path that led to the formidable gates of the Malfoy Manor. These gates, a grand testament to the opulence within, were adorned with wrought-iron craftsmanship that gleamed even in the muted light of dusk. Beyond the gates, a long, majestic driveway, flanked by a procession of ancient trees, guided her toward the mansion's imposing facade. Standing before her, the Malfoy Manor exuded an aura of architectural splendor. Its stately stone walls rose gracefully, adorned with intricate details that whispered of centuries past. Tall, narrow windows punctuated the facade, their panes seeming to conceal secrets within, bestowing upon the house an air of sinister allure.

The estate on which the manor resided was vast and mysterious. A dark forest encroached upon the edges of the property, casting eerie shadows that played hide-and-seek with the waning daylight. In stark contrast to this enigmatic woodland, a lush and meticulously cultivated garden graced the manor's rear, a testament to the Malfoy family's penchant for grandeur and elegance.

With each deliberate step, Y/N's heartbeat quickened. Her trembling hand reached out to rap upon the massive, wooden double doors that guarded the entrance. She couldn't have fathomed that she would ever find herself returning to this nightmarish place, where the echoes of her torment at the hands of Voldemort and his fanatical followers still reverberated in the depths of her memory. It had been two agonizing years since that fateful day when Fenrir Greyback had dragged her through those very doors, her hair pulled viciously as she struggled to match the monstrous pace set by her captor. The same mansion had borne witness to her harrowing encounter with the Dark Lord himself, the malevolent figure who had imprinted the dreaded Death Eater mark upon her left arm—a mark she had desperately sought to eradicate for almost three long years.

The reason for her presence here, despite the haunting memories, was her enduring love for Draco. Three years had passed since the inception of their clandestine relationship, but their bond remained unshaken. Draco's parents, however, were a formidable obstacle in their path. They looked down upon her as a 'filthy Mudblood,' a fact that had never deterred her resolve, so long as Draco stood by her side. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had resorted to devious tactics, attempting to buy her loyalty, attempting to pry her away from their son. Their efforts had met with stubborn resistance, leaving them fuming with frustration. On countless occasions, they subjected her to scathing tirades, especially Narcissa, whose cruelty knew no bounds. After a week, Lucius resigned to a sullen silence, but Narcissa's venomous words and occasionally physical aggression persisted as a daily ordeal that Y/N endured with steely determination.

Y/N flinched as the manor door creaked open, her reaction akin to that of someone stumbling into a jinx. Her startled gaze dropped to the floor, where a familiar figure stood. It was Rue, the endearing house elf, a cherished presence in Y/N's life.

"What can Rue do for Draco's lovely girlfriend?" Rue inquired, her lips curving into a warm, welcoming smile.

Y/N couldn't help but smile in return; Rue had always held a special place in her heart. With her bright blue eyes and those endearing pointy ears, Rue exuded an unmistakable charm. Not only did she anticipate Y/N's every need, but she also prepared food and drinks precisely to Y/N's liking. Since the law against elf brutality had been enacted, Y/N had taken it upon herself to ensure Rue's comfort, providing her with clothing. Over the months, Rue had transformed, shedding the weight of servitude to become a happier, more carefree presence.

"I'd like to see Draco, please, Rue," Y/N replied, her voice gentle and careful not to startle the petite house elf.

Rue's smile widened, and with a tiny, reassuring grip on Y/N's hand, she led her inside. As the door closed softly behind them, Rue spoke again, her voice filled with an eagerness to assist. "Master Draco is in his room. Rue will take you."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, a playful idea forming in her mind. "No, no, it's fine. I can go myself. I want to surprise him."

The adorable house elf nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. With a snap of her fingers, she vanished from sight, leaving Y/N to navigate the winding corridors of the Malfoy Manor alone.

Y/N couldn't help but grin at the thought of Rue experiencing a moment of personal indulgence, wondering if the house elf was trying to savor the pleasures she had missed in her life of servitude. With that pleasant thought, Y/N embarked on her ascent up the many flights of wooden stairs that led to the upper reaches of the manor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the hallway as she made her way toward Draco's room.

As she arrived at her destination, Y/N came to an abrupt halt, her senses keenly attuned to an unexpected sound emanating from behind Draco's door. She strained her ears, desperately hoping it wasn't a case of accidentally stumbling upon an intimate moment between Lucius and Narcissa. A glance at the door's label confirmed it was indeed Draco's room, and then she heard it again.

Moans.

Specifically, the unmistakable sounds of male and female moans. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she leaned closer to the door, attempting to confirm what she dreaded most. She heard his name, Draco's name, whimpered from a female voice within, a voice that sent shockwaves through her.

Her blood ran cold, her heart rate spiked, and tears welled up in her eyes. Y/N prayed it wasn't true, that Draco wasn't betraying her. She cautiously pushed the door open, her movements silent as she observed the heart-wrenching scene before her. Draco, lost in passion, buried his face in Astoria Greengrass's neck, his vigorous thrusts filling the room.

Their eyes met, Y/N's and Astoria's, in a moment of cruel recognition. Astoria's smirk seemed to taunt Y/N, as if declaring, 'He's mine now, you filthy Mudblood.' With a heavy heart, Y/N gently closed the door, tears streaming down her face. She turned and fled down the hallway, down the stairs, without a care for her surroundings or the possibility of colliding with someone.

Tears flowed freely as Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart shattering into a million pieces. Her cries escaped in a heartbreaking crescendo, echoing through the manor's grandeur. In her distraught state, she collided with an unexpected presence, teetering dangerously on the brink of falling backward. However, strong arms enveloped her, steadying her in her moment of despair.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, girl?" The voice, dripping with disdain, hissed through the tense air. Y/N's heart lurched at the sound, her gut telling her it was all too familiar. As her tear-blurred gaze lifted, she was met with the sight of a thoroughly baffled and irate Lucius Malfoy, his aristocratic features etched with a mix of anger and confusion. Her own expressive eyes, a mesmerizing shade of E/C, locked onto his cold, steely gray ones.

Blinking away the tears that blurred her vision, she stared at the formidable pureblood wizard who stood before her. Their eye contact held an unspoken tension, a connection fraught with history and complex emotions. It was in that moment that Y/N noticed something she hadn't expected in Lucius – concern. The realization was like a jolt, sending a shiver down her spine.

Concern?

It couldn't be right, could it? Why on earth would Lucius Malfoy, of all people, be concerned about her well-being? Y/N hesitated, her hand instinctively rising to wipe her eyes once more, as if questioning her own senses, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the look in Lucius's eyes remained, a glimmer of unexpected humanity in the formidable man who had long been an enigma to her.

"Are you going to speak, or just stand there like a dumb-witted Mudblood?" Lucius's words, laced with venom, cut through the heavy silence. Y/N turned away from him, hurt etched in her eyes, his cruel words piercing her heart. In that moment, the gap between them seemed insurmountable.

Lucius, however, couldn't ignore the pain he had inadvertently caused, and for a fleeting second, remorse tugged at his conscience. Yet, his pride prevailed, and instead of apologizing, he pressed further, his tone demanding answers. "What's wrong with you, girl?"

Y/N pulled herself away from him, a mixture of emotions welling up inside her. She hesitated for a moment, then her voice trembled as she questioned him, "W-Why do y-you care?"

The unexpected vulnerability in her voice caught Lucius off guard, and a flicker of something uncharacteristic passed through his stormy gray eyes. He blocked her path as she attempted to move past him, their proximity intensifying the tension between them. "Just because we got off to the wrong foot when we first met doesn't mean I'm the same person I was before," he hissed, a rare hint of vulnerability seeping into his words. "Now tell me what's wrong, or I'll use Legilimency on you."

Her defenses crumbling, Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotion any longer. The words tumbled out of her, her voice wavering as she confessed, "Your son cheated on me with Astoria, that's what happened." She glanced away, bracing herself for the judgment she anticipated. "You're probably happy that he's not with a filthy Mudblood like me anymore. I'll just—"

"He did what?!" Lucius's voice reverberated through the manor, his anger palpable as it resounded against the walls. Y/N glanced at him, a puzzled expression on her face. She couldn't comprehend why he would be so furious that his son, Draco, had cheated on her—a Mudblood—with a pureblood. Lucius Malfoy had never harbored any warmth toward Y/N, so this sudden outburst was baffling. She had always assumed that Draco's parents would be delighted if something like this were to happen.

Lucius's voice, filled with indignation, interrupted her thoughts once more. "How dare that boy break someone's heart instead of just telling you that he wants to end the relationship. I raised him to treat women with respect. Even if the girl is a filthy Mudblood!"

Y/N frowned, her gaze drifting downward to her feet, unable to meet Lucius's eyes. His words were laden with a complex mixture of anger, disappointment, and something she couldn't quite fathom.

"Why would you care anyway? You should be happy that he cheated on me. Now he can go marry a pureblood who's more beautiful than me," she muttered bitterly, her self-esteem shattered.

In an unexpected turn of events, the cold metal of the snake handle of Lucius's cane lifted her chin. She blinked in surprise as he swiftly pulled his cane away and grasped her chin roughly with his hand, forcing her to hold eye contact with him.

"Don't ever say those words again. Am. I. Understand, Y/N?" Lucius's voice, though stern, held a strange mixture of concern. She nodded in response, but it seemed that wasn't sufficient for him. He demanded more. "I expect you to answer when I ask you something!"

"Y-Yes, Sir!" she squeaked, her gaze locked onto his features. She couldn't help but notice the commanding presence he exuded, the sharp lines of his jaw, the strength evident in his angular face. His long, platinum blonde hair cascaded gracefully past his shoulders, framing his striking countenance. The blueish-gray eyes that held an air of authority seemed to peer directly into her soul. Y/N's cheeks flushed inexplicably as she found herself momentarily entranced by his striking appearance. ‘He's handsome’, she thought, a realization that seemed to take her by surprise.

Y/N's unspoken admiration for Lucius had been a well-guarded secret, a silent confession her heart made each time she crossed the threshold of the Malfoy Manor. Her heart would do a subtle dance of anticipation whenever she knew she'd encounter him, and a flush would steal across her cheeks, like a clandestine tribute to his striking presence. It was an irrational reaction, one she couldn't quite understand, given that Lucius had never hidden his disdain for her—well, at least, he hadn't before.

Lucius's trademark smirk played on his lips, but there was a curious shift in his demeanor. Gone was the initial cockiness, replaced by genuine amusement as he surveyed Y/N's puzzled expression. Her blush intensified, a shade that rivaled the crimson and gold of the Gryffindor house colors.

"You really think I'm handsome?" he probed, his tone now laced with curiosity. He leaned in closer, the proximity between them causing a subtle flutter in Y/N's heart. Lucius's eyes sparkled with a newfound charm as he awaited her response.

"I—what? I didn't—" she stammered, but her words were abruptly silenced.

"Legilimens, my darling girl," Lucius smoothly interrupted. His smirk remained, but it was tinged with a magnetic confidence that left her feeling exposed. He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against her ear, and he whispered softly, his voice a provocative caress, "Ah, yes. It appears you've conveniently forgotten that I possess the ability to delve into your mind. You see, I heard every thought you've had about me. Like your secret desire for me to pin you down on my bed, to make you forget how to walk."

Y/N's eyes widened, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Her heart raced, and she felt a shiver of vulnerability wash over her. Lucius's audacious revelation had unraveled a new layer of intrigue and desire, transforming their dynamic into something far more intricate and captivating.

She gasped, disbelief coursing through her. Could he truly have been privy to her every innermost thought? It felt surreal, like a dream she was unable to awaken from. In an attempt to regain her composure, she instinctively retreated a step, allowing her gaze to lock with his. His eyes held the same intense emotion she had noticed earlier – a smoldering, undeniable lust that sent a tingle down her spine. He leaned closer, his body almost brushing against hers, and she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"That's the very reason I've maintained my distance from you all these months," he admitted, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath its low, seductive tone. "After my ex-wife and I discovered the truth about you and my son's relationship, I tried to keep my demeanor cold. Yet every night, unable to control my desires, I found myself lost in fantasies of you," he confessed, his words a hushed, intimate secret shared between them.

A blush painted her cheeks once more as his voice whispered sensually into her ear, sending shivers coursing down her spine. His hands found their way to her sides, exerting a gentle, yet possessive squeeze. She couldn't help but shudder at his touch.

"My son is a fool for betraying such a beautiful, enchanting nymph like you," he purred, his lips grazing the tender skin just below her earlobe. His kisses left a fiery trail down her neck, only to ascend slowly back towards her lips. When their mouths met, it was as though a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach, fluttering wildly. She didn't respond immediately, her brain struggling to catch up with the whirlwind of sensations. Gradually, she inhaled his intoxicating scent, responding to his kisses with a growing hunger of her own.

Y/N's moans of desire seemed to echo within the cavernous expanse of Lucius's opulent mansion. Every step she took away from the memory of Draco's betrayal and closer to Lucius felt like a transgressive leap into the unknown. The kiss, fueled by a volatile mix of guilt and longing, deepened with each passing second. It was a magnetic force pulling them closer together, their lips becoming the epicenter of their shared need.

Her fingers wove themselves deeper into Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, the strands silky and cool to the touch. He couldn't help but groan in response, the sound a testament to the intensity of their connection. His powerful hands, previously residing at her sides, ventured boldly downward, reaching her shapely derrière. With a delicate yet firm touch, he squeezed, sending exhilarating waves of sensation through her body.

With a sudden surge of passion, Lucius lifted Y/N off her feet, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to maintain their electrifying kiss. The sensation of being carried by him, the firmness of his grip, and the heat of his body against hers were intoxicating. They ascended the grand staircase, their rhythmic ascent echoing through the mansion's ornate halls.

As they turned down the dimly lit hallway, the portraits of stern-faced ancestors bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous. The anticipation was palpable, each step a deliberate stride toward the unknown. The soft glow of moonlight spilled through heavy, brocade curtains, casting intricate patterns on the Persian rugs that lined the floor.

With an audacious display of strength and desire, Lucius kicked open the door to his lavishly appointed bedroom. The door swung wide with a creak, revealing a chamber bathed in shadows. The grandeur of the room was nothing short of breathtaking, with its sumptuous canopy bed, antique furnishings, and gilded accents. The room exuded an air of timeless elegance, a stark contrast to the illicit passion that had led them there. Yet, with another commanding kick, he shut the door behind them, sealing their secret within the confines of the room's opulent embrace.

In the opulent chamber, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtered through heavy curtains, he guided her towards his bed with a gentleness that belied the intense desire simmering between them. The sumptuous sheets, adorned with intricate patterns, awaited their embrace, a testament to the luxury that surrounded them. With a feather-light touch, he laid her down, the mattress conforming to the curves of her body like a lover's caress.

Desire surged between them, an irresistible force pulling them closer together. She eagerly wound her legs around him, her longing palpable. A deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from his chest, a seductive reverberation that filled the room. It was a sound that resonated with promise, the promise of what was to come.

His lips embarked on a slow descent down the delicate curve of her neck, leaving a trail of searing kisses in their wake. His teeth grazed her skin, eliciting sharp gasps and urgent moans from her trembling lips. Y/N's moans danced in harmony with the hushed symphony of their passion, their clandestine desires woven into every sound.

With a masterful touch, his hands began their sensual exploration, fingers tracing the contours of her body. He reached for the fabric of her shirt, the anticipation of their impending intimacy electrifying the air. But as he made to unveil her, he paused, gazing into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and raw desire. His voice, a sultry whisper, hung in the air like an unspoken invitation, "Do you want to continue this?"

Her heart swelled with a heady blend of love and desire at his considerate question. It wasn't just about the act itself; it was about the connection they shared, the intimacy that extended beyond the physical. Her eyes met his, and she nodded in fervent agreement, but his gaze turned insistent, demanding more than a mere gesture.

She acquiesced, her voice a soft, breathless confession. "Yes, I want to continue."

With the patience of a man intoxicated by her presence, he lifted her shirt, revealing her in all her vulnerability and desire. Each moment was a deliberate act of unveiling, an exploration of the secrets they had kept hidden for too long. Her whimpers of longing grew more pronounced, a sweet symphony of passion that ignited the room.

Their discarded shirts lay scattered, forgotten remnants of the world they had left behind. Their lips collided once more, a fervent clash of desires. His hands, strong and gentle, cradled her face, deepening the kiss into a consuming blaze of longing. In this stolen moment, their connection transcended the physical, binding them together in a fiery embrace that defied the boundaries of reason and restraint.

In the cocoon of their desires, time seemed to slow, allowing them to savor every tantalizing moment. The room, adorned with rich, heavy curtains that filtered the moon's soft glow, bathed them in an otherworldly ambiance. They paused briefly to remove the remaining garments that clung to their heated bodies, leaving a trail of discarded clothing scattered haphazardly across the floor.

With a profound longing etched upon their faces, they surrendered to the pull of their desires. He took the initiative, his lips blazing a path of fiery kisses down her form. Every inch of her skin he touched seemed to ignite with desire, his teeth delicately grazing, and his mouth fervently claiming her.

One of his hands, large and commanding, found its place on her breast, the fingers expertly working her sensitive flesh. The other sought solace on her hip, the grip possessive yet tender. Y/N's response was immediate, her back arching sensually as she pressed herself closer to him. The room bore witness to her unrestrained passion, shadows playing tricks on their entangled figures.

The dimly lit room provided an intimate backdrop to their stolen moment, amplifying the intensity of their connection. She gasped, unable to stifle the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her body. Her longing and need reached a fevered pitch as his lips moved relentlessly over her skin.

This sensation was unlike anything she had ever encountered, not even with Draco. It was a heady concoction of raw desire and an emotional connection that left her feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable, yet simultaneously empowered and alive.

His lips reluctantly abandoned her chest, tracing a searing path downward, inching closer to the epicenter of her desire. Her hips reacted instinctively, a silent plea for more, a plea for him to satiate the burgeoning hunger that consumed her. In response, he chuckled darkly, a knowing grin playing upon his lips.

"So, so greedy for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "I've barely even started, my little nymph, and you're already squirming."

Her moans grew in volume, punctuating the charged atmosphere. Her hips continued their rhythmic dance, a wordless invitation for him to delve deeper into her desires. Just as hope began to wane, he boldly ventured between her legs. His thumb found her eager clit, tracing slow, electrifying circles that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She couldn't help but gasp loudly, her moans intensifying as her body surrendered to his skillful touch.

“L-Lucius!” Y/N's fervent whimper hung in the air, a plea for more that only fueled Lucius's desire to push her further into the depths of pleasure. He reveled in the sound, a wicked grin playing upon his lips as he continued to work his magic. His fingers, slick with her arousal, glided effortlessly inside her, seeking out her g-spot with uncanny precision. The sensation of his touch sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through her, her moans becoming a chorus of surrender.

The room seemed to close in around them, the ambiance heavy with the heady scent of their desire. Shadows danced seductively across the walls, an intimate audience to their clandestine tryst. Every subtle movement, every trembling breath, was magnified in the dim light, intensifying the eroticism of the moment.

Lucius's voice, a velvet caress of dominance, lured her deeper into submission. "That's right, my little slut," he whispered huskily, his words both an affirmation and a command. "Feel how good I'm making you. Did he ever make you feel like this? Did he know all the right spots to please you?"

She struggled to form coherent words, the pleasure he evoked rendering her speechless. Her response was a breathless admission of truth, punctuated by her moans of ecstasy. "N-No... aahh-"

Lucius's eyes bore into her with an intensity that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet utterly consumed by desire. His fingers continued their relentless assault on her g-spot, her body quivering in response. Her pussy clenched around him, a physical manifestation of her escalating pleasure, and he couldn't help but grunt with satisfaction.

"My little slut," he growled, his voice dripping with unrestrained lust, "you've never felt this kind of pleasure before, have you? Well, let's make sure you're fully satisfied, my dear."

With each word, he propelled her further into the abyss of desire, his fingers dancing with a masterful touch that promised to fulfill her every longing. In the dimly lit room, their forbidden encounter continued, a symphony of passion and submission that echoed through the night.

Lucius's descent towards her quivering core was an agonizingly slow and tantalizing journey. His head moved lower, inch by tantalizing inch, until his mouth hovered just above her dripping wet pussy. The room, bathed in the soft, dim light of concealed passion, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the forbidden act about to unfold.

Y/N's body was a live wire, tingling with desire as his warm breath caressed her sensitive flesh. Her back arched in a primal response, a silent plea for him to continue, to grant her the pleasure she craved. The air was thick with tension, the electrifying atmosphere heightened by the palpable anticipation of what was to come.

With a deliberate, torturous slowness, his tongue made its first sensuous contact with her throbbing clit. Y/N's response was immediate and intense; she arched her back, a breathless gasp escaping her lips. Waves of desire surged through her, her hips rising to meet his mouth in a fervent demand for more. His tongue traced lazy circles around her clit, each pass a teasing caress that left her trembling with need.

Her hips moved in rhythmic desperation, bucking into his mouth as she sought to intensify the pleasure. Lucius, the master of seduction, had her in a hypnotic trance, his tongue shifting tactics to move from side to side, skillfully exploring every sensitive inch of her. He returned to her clit, sucking with a purposeful hunger that sent shivers coursing through her body. Her moans grew in intensity, a symphony of ecstasy that filled the room.

As if orchestrating a symphony of pleasure, his fingers joined the sensual dance, slick with her arousal. They thrust in and out with a relentless rhythm, each penetration hitting her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy. Y/N's body was a trembling instrument of desire, her moans and whimpers filling the room like a seductive melody.

A familiar sensation began to coil within her abdomen, growing in intensity with each tantalizing moment. Her pussy clenched around his fingers as the waves of pleasure overtook her. With a gasp that shattered the air, she climaxed, her body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

Lucius's voice, thick with desire and dominance, broke through her post-orgasmic haze. "Good girl, my good girl," he murmured, his words both a praise and a command. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction. He withdrew his hand from her quivering pussy, his fingers glistening with her essence. With forceful insistence, he grasped her jaw, parting her lips and presenting his cum-covered fingers to her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore!" he demanded, his voice a potent blend of authority and lust, igniting a primal hunger within her.

The room, cloaked in shadows, seemed to hold its breath as Y/N's lips encircled Lucius's fingers, moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm as she licked and sucked them clean. Her tongue, eager and tantalizing, left no trace of her essence behind, and Lucius watched her with a predatory hunger that mirrored her own desire. With an excruciating slowness, he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, his grip shifting to encircle her delicate throat, a possessive hold that sent a jolt of excitement through her.

A deep, throaty chuckle resonated from Lucius, a dark sound that underscored his mastery over her. It was a symphony of submission, her whimper in response to his control weaving through the charged air. His other hand, which had been on her jaw, descended with purposeful intent to his throbbing cock. With tantalizing deliberation, he began to stroke himself, each languid movement of his hand a seductive overture to the impending climax of their desires.

Y/N grappled with a myriad of emotions. She knew she should be overwhelmed with guilt, entangled in an illicit affair with her ex-boyfriend's father. Yet, beneath the layers of her moral reservations, a burning desire and a thirst for revenge surged within her. She yearned to make her ex-boyfriend pay for his betrayal, to mend her shattered heart by indulging in the very act that had caused her so much pain.

Her internal turmoil was momentarily eclipsed as she felt the firm tip of his cock teasing her wet, throbbing pussy. The exquisite friction sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, and her moans and whimpers filled the room like a seductive aria. Her body was a symphony of need, the sultry dance of his cock against her clit driving her to the brink of ecstasy.

Lucius's voice, dripping with dominance and desire, anchored her in the present moment. "My little mudblood," he taunted, his words laden with a derogatory term that should have stung. Instead, the sultry timbre of his voice rendered her helpless, a willing captive to his seduction. "Is this what you've desired all this time? For a real man to fuck you, to slide his cock deep inside you and make you feel good?"

Despite the term, her moans and whimpers betrayed her true desires, her voice trembling with need. "Y-Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her plea echoing through the room, a fervent entreaty for the fulfillment of her deepest, most forbidden fantasies. “ Please, fuck me!”

"Daddy? Hmm?" Lucius questioned, his voice dripping with irresistible seduction that hung in the air like a sultry promise. A low, dark chuckle followed, resonating with a wicked allure as his eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of malevolence. It was a look that promised a thrilling journey into forbidden desires, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and danger.

The room, cloaked in shadows and secrecy, bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous—a sensual dance of dominance and submission that unfolded in hushed gasps and fervent touches. Lucius reveled in her surrender, delighting in the way the derogatory term slipped off his tongue, and, to his surprise, she seemed to share in that twisted pleasure. "My little mudblood is filthy, isn't she?" he continued, his words dripping with desire and a touch of cruelty. In their intimate connection, the term had evolved into an oddly cherished secret, symbolizing her eager willingness to plunge into the irresistible depths of their forbidden passions. "I like that."

With deliberate intent, Lucius poised himself at the edge of her ecstasy, the air thick with anticipation. He surged into her abruptly, a powerful thrust that drew an electrified whimper from Y/N. Her body responded instinctively, arching in response to the sudden intrusion, a wordless plea for more. Lucius groaned in satisfaction, luxuriating in the exquisite sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping him.

"Daddy!" Y/N's moan, fervent and desperate, reverberated through the room, echoing the intensity of her longing and submission.

Lucius wasted no time in unleashing the primal depths of his desire, setting a relentless pace that sent tremors through the bed beneath them. Pleasure and pain intertwined as Y/N's body stretched to accommodate him, her moans and gasps forming a seductive symphony that filled the room. Each powerful thrust propelled her closer to the precipice of ecstasy, the headboard bearing witness to the fervor of their illicit union.

"F-Fuck," Lucius hissed, his voice a symphony of unquenchable desire as he intensified his rhythm. His hips surged against her with unrestrained lust, each collision sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. The room resounded with their shared passion, an intoxicating rhythm that reverberated through the air and ignited an inferno of sensations. “You’re so tight and wet, aaah- I’m going to have so much fun destroying this tight little hole of yours.”

The hand that encircled her throat tightened incrementally, a gesture of dominance that sent a thrill of arousal coursing through Y/N. Her fingers tangled in Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, tugging gently as she sought to draw him closer. His primal groans and moans in response only served to deepen her desire, each intoxicating sound forging an unbreakable connection between them in the hidden world they had created.

Their moans, like an intricate duet, melded into an intoxicating symphony of desire, echoing through the dimly lit room. With each primal thrust, he plunged deeper and faster into her, igniting a passionate crescendo that left them both gasping for breath. Her heart raced in response to the electrifying pleasure coursing through her veins.

"Lucius—Lucius! Aaaahhh—fuck! Daddy!" Her words, a fervent chant of need and submission, spilled from her lips in breathless abandon. Her hips responded in kind, moving in a seductive rhythm that matched his powerful thrusts, a dance of desire that transcended the bounds of their forbidden liaison.

"So damn good! Aahh—yes! Oh fuck, my little mudblood knows how to please me," he growled with unapologetic desire, his voice a seductive purr that sent shivers cascading down her spine. His hips quickened their relentless pace, pounding into her with an unyielding urgency that caused the bed to groan and creak beneath them, a testament to the fierce intensity of their union. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel, slut!

Her moans swelled, a wild symphony of ecstasy and surrender that reverberated through the room like a siren's call. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her fingers desperately seeking purchase in the soft fabric as waves of pleasure crashed over her. It was an exquisite torment, a tantalizing whirlwind of sensations that threatened to consume her entirely.

"Daddy, you—ahh—feel so good," she gasped, her voice trembling with a potent mix of longing and desperation. Her nails traced feverish patterns over his heated skin, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake. Her silent entreaty was clear: she yearned for him to take her harder, to claim her completely in the tempest of their shared passion. “You make me feel so good! You’re fucking me so much better than him.”

Amid the dimly lit room, their passionate entwining continued, each feverish moment adding a new layer to their shared desire. Lucius, a commanding figure, maintained his relentless thrusts, his dominance evident in every movement. Her fervent responses wove a tapestry of longing and ecstasy, their chemistry igniting the air around them.

"I know, my little nymph," he purred, his voice an intoxicating blend of pleasure and command. His grip on her tightened possessively, fingers leaving tantalizing imprints on her heated skin. "Cum for me, slut. Show me how good I make you feel." His words hung in the air like a seductive spell, sending electrifying shivers throughout her body.

With each powerful thrust, the tip of his cock skillfully teased her cervix, intensifying the delicious ache in the pit of her stomach. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, a dance that seemed to transcend the boundaries of time and reason, an intricate symphony of passion that left them breathless.

Lucius, releasing his hold on her throat, replaced it with his mouth, his lips and teeth marking her skin as he continued to slam into her with primal urgency. Love bites and passionate kisses adorned her flesh, evidence of their unrestrained fervor. They moved together, bodies melding into one, a force of nature that defied control. In a rapturous climax, they reached the pinnacle of their desire, their voices rising in unison, filling the room with their unrestrained passion.

As Lucius withdrew from her, a plaintive whimper escaped her lips, a testament to the aching desire that still clung to her. His triumphant smirk hinted at the pleasure he derived from her desperate longing. As he made his way to the bathroom to cleanse himself, her eyes remained fixed on the vacant space he had occupied, her body still tingling with the fading echoes of their intense union.

Upon his return, a damp cloth in hand, he approached her with eyes that held both tenderness and desire. Every stroke of the cloth was a gentle caress, an unspoken declaration of their strange intimacy. The discarded rag landed carelessly beside them, a forgotten relic of their fervent encounter.

"Go to sleep, my little nymph," he whispered, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. "I'll be here when you wake." His words were a soothing promise, lulling her into a cocoon of security and contentment that belied the complexity of their relationship.

She nestled against him, her heart aflutter with emotions that defied easy categorization. Despite the impending repercussions of their actions, she couldn't deny the profound satisfaction she felt. As her eyes fluttered closed, the only thought that remained was that revenge, in its twisted and tumultuous way, could be intoxicatingly sweet.

[harfanfare]

If that's okay could i request it for Epel?

How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?

a/n: Thank you for requesting~~ Dear Readers, while I am not a native English speaker, I wrote this ff in the English-pronounciation (?) mindset that “Epel” and “Apple” sound very similar. If it’s not all that similar, may Reader be too obsessed with apples to have that selective hearing when it comes to Epel’s name or let’s blame it on the Harveston’s dialect, haha

Be a zealous apple lover.

You envy this boy’s name.

“Apple”? What a majestic word to be named after. The first time you’ve heard a woman calling someone like that, you remember stilling in place and whooping your head at a ten-year-old boy who yelled that he was coming.

And he… doesn’t look like an apple. Maybe you weren’t expecting a walking apple, nor a boy with red hair dressed in all browns, carrying a big basket of apples (and of course, eating one in the other hand) like a character created for a show whose audience is a tad younger than you, but none of the apples you know turn purple.

Never have you imagined someone with such a beautiful name would move so wobbly in snow, the sledge he dragged behind definitely too heavy.

The realization of how unfitting this name was makes you lose a grip on the basket of fabric you got from one of your new neighbours. Well, everyone here is “new” if you just came into this little village just three days ago.

That boy notices you. He must have heard the news because a flash of recognition paints itself on his face. You didn’t return a shy smile at the staring, even if you wanted to. You remember your cheeks prickling from the freezing wind when you bolted home as the apple boy looked like he wanted to say something.

“He doesn’t look like an apple,” you argue with your mother that night, as she kisses your temple goodnight.

“Maybe not. But I would have loved you two to be friends…” Your mother stops in her words as you roll your eyes at her and pout with all your might. She suppresses a laugh that you would take to your heart. “…But, maybe I should be glad he doesn’t resemble an apple at all? You would have fallen head over heels in love with him if he did.”

Yeah, your mother doesn’t need to look so happy as you grew agitated.

“I wouldn’t!” You protest loudly and bury yourself deeper into bed sheets even if your face grows hotter. Maybe of the embarrassment, maybe of the fury, but surely not because of the boy. “I would never fall in love with a boy like him. And I don’t want you to talk about this to anyone!”

You remember your mother’s eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “Yes, yes, all right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.

Maybe it’s the fault of far too many action films being aired on TV, yet the idea of being able to win anything a fight was stuck in your head.

Some limited part of your brain thought that, hm, Apple might just give up his name to you if you won in this town’s most famous activity: the Harveston’s Sled Race. It seemed only appropriate for you to pick something the boy must know, even if you had only got your first sledge barely two weeks ago.

“Ya… want my name?” Apple blinks as you grow irate when you repeat your offer once again. You remember rolling your eyes ostentatiously at him, and Apple huffing loudly at you. “What does it even mean, duh?”

He crosses his arms and glared at you. He has the advantage of being just a little bit taller than you, but thankfully, his The-Great-Seven-Better-Bless-Her grandmother never ceases to dress him in fluffy, puffy clothes, always in pastel colours; the cute pompom on top of his beanie and shawl in the adorable pink shade made him much less imposing.

“Whoever wins in this sledge race will be called Apple,” you repeat. Apple squints his eyes at you. “I like this name so much, you have no idea. Please give it up to me.”

“Oh.”

You have no idea why his face slowly turned red. If you knew better, you would have used this opportunity to tease him, but little you didn’t want to mock a newly met boy, even if you just threw down a gauntlet for his name.

“It’s a normal name….” He mutters, and before you can protest, he draws his eyes to you, somehow redeeming you speechless. “…But I’ll challenge you if that’s what you wanna do.”

Huh. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily.

…Nor were you expecting him to glide on the snow with his sledge. He looked frail enough to not care about things like rides and thought that it would give you the advantage. It did not. Apple flew or used magic, or illusions because he rode so fast the snow beneath him barely left a trace.

That was some cool skill, even if you hated how awed you were.

It seems like you challenged the wrong boy because this one wins with ease.

“Sorry,” he says with flushed cheeks, and his deep breaths create little warm clouds in freezing air. He lays on the snow, and his fringe sticks to his forehead. He has won, and it was a tough victory yet a well-earned one. “I will still be the only Epel in this town.” He shifts his gaze on you. “So. What’s your name?”

Well, he is a (treacherous) winner. You give your name to him.

He smiles slightly, he repeats it slowly and goes quiet. You look over to see him open his eyes from reverie and bright lights dance in his eyes.

“It’s nice. I think it suits you well.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Have some baking skills.

“Epel, dear. We’ll be having our little neighbour helping us this year’s festival, so please show how responsible can you be and teach [Name] how to prepare apples for the pies.”

Ugh. If only Grandma Marja wasn’t so kind, you would have been protesting more.

Apple looks at you and you frown slightly as he sighs at your sight.

“You again?”

And because Grandma Marja already left, you feel free to announce your displeasure with the situation as well. Sadly, there are no other kids your age in this village, so you are probably bound to accompany him for the rest of your whole life here as he’s your only peer.

“Unfortunately.”

Apple hands you an apron, before ordering you to wash your hands. Because the kitchen island is too occupied with other dishes and too high for any of you without a stool, you take a seat next to a coffee table that was impractically set between the salon and kitchen, leaving just enough space to create a narrow route from one room to another.

“Have you ever baked an apple pie before?” He asks and you shake your head. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks whether you will be a help here at all. “So, it will be a long day…”

He better not write you off before you can even start.

You cross your arms. “Test me first, complain later... if ever.”

“I’m not complaining. But we have a knife and a peeler. Oh, and it hurts if you get cut. You should take it slowly and be careful,” he adds and hops to the other room to grab a basket full of apples. He lays it between you two.

Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.

“I am older than you,” he says and takes an apple from you to cut it into even pieces. You don’t notice the skill he has to make careful cuts precise and clean, as you glare at him.

“Barely.”

The few-month gap in your age isn’t enough to stop you from insisting that you can do more complicated things than just peeling apples. That’s some arduous work, especially when the peeler doesn’t cooperate and the thin fruit’s skin gets stuck between the blades.

So, Apple, who couldn’t contain that last annoyed sigh, finally lends you a knife. He instructs you, but after several times that you tell him you know what are you doing, he hesitantly goes back to his work. You could feel a worried gaze at you nonetheless, and at one time you looked over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

And that’s when the knife slips from your hands.

You don’t scream, but a gasp and a sudden flinch gives you away.

“Aaaand that’s what I was saying,” he immediately drops the apple he was taking care of, and stands next to you, scrutinizing the cut. It’s not bigger than a paper cut, yet it’s a bit deeper and stings as much. You quickly hide your hands from him. “Go take your hand under the cold water. I will get some bandages.”

He gets some. He then orders you—” I am the older one here and I was right before, so I am in charge between us two,” as you were told—to sit on the sofa as he carefully wraps one bandage around your finger. The gesture it’s almost cute from him, but it doesn’t lift your foul mood at all.

“I made more trouble than I’ve helped,” you say quietly. Epel looks at you, a bit surprised.

“You sayin’ that this little cut is making you quit?” And now he has that stupid smile on his lips that makes your blood not boil, but warm up at least five degrees. “Awh, poor thing.”

You get up in a hurry.

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Then don’t give up like that,” he chastises you, but he can’t hide a (still very stupid) smile when you pass him to get to the kitchen counter. “But be more careful from now. No one wants to eat a bloody apple pie.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.

Over the years, you’ve become friends, close enough to plan to go to college together, if the opportunity arises. It did.

“Cheers!”

The perfect way to celebrate getting into NRC is with a soft drink, sparkling soda and a big plate of snacks. Although you bought chips for the occasion, your and Apple’s parents prepared a pile of homemade goodies and they couldn’t compare to those store-bought.

Your can clinks against Apple’s and you take a sip.

“It’s not like I ever thought of Night Raven Collage rejecting the best candidates ever,” Apple says with a sigh. Only today you can notice how stiff he was before; although he’d been playing it cool, he was tense all the time. “But that’s one burden off your chest.”

You nod in agreement and look at the acceptance papers once again. When a time will come, carriages with Gates will come for you two… And that’s a thrilling thought.

“This document looks so official,” you say. “What a pretty paper. It looks so elegant.”

Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.

“Nothin’ special about it…”

And because you want to see the comparison (maybe there are hidden hints where you might be allocated to by the Dark Mirror?), you take his document. The first thing that crosses your mind, is that there is something wrong with his name.

“Wait,” you shriek loudly, and Apple shudders from surprise. He would chastise you for screaming so loud if you didn’t look so worried. “They spelled your name wrong!”

“Huh?” Apple feels a pang of horror, the same you feel when you tap your pockets in search of your phone. As if he found it, once he reads the top of the document again, he relaxes. His lips form into a thin line: he thinks you are pranking him. “No way. Everything is correct.”

“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”

“It’s… Correct.”

“E- P- E- L. And your name is A- P- P- L- E, no?”

“…What?” Epel, not Apple, looks surprised but not as surprised as you. “You thought my name was ‘Apple’ for all those years?!”

You bite your lip to not question it. Is it not? Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and your heart feels heavy as if you have just betrayed your best friend. It never crossed your mind to have him write down his name, and there wasn’t a reason for him to do so: in this small town there is no school, neither are there the tests you need to sign.

“…I’m sorry.” You stutter, and Epel brushes the crumbs off from his blouse and gets up.

“Goodbye,” he says, making his way towards the door. He doesn’t seem that upset over the whole thing, as much as confused. Tomorrow everything will return to normality, but Epel will have a top-tier teasing material for years. “That’s too many revelations for today.”

“Wait, Epel!”

“Go to ya Apple boy.”

“No!! I said I’m sorry!”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t…! Ha…”

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but once you look up at Epel and his grimace, it’s impossible to not burst out laughing so loud and so breath-taking you drop to the floor. Epel nudges you. You might be in his room, yet he knows if he’ll be too loud, someone will come to shush you two.

And maybe they will punish him, but Epel isn’t familiar with Pomefiore’s customs, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

“How come you got sorted into another dorm, while we are practically the same?” Epel mumbles, lying down on his bed. The sheets are heavy yet comfortable, luxurious like the whole room. It feels like a museum here, where each item is more valuable than your life and you need permission to rearrange the interior.

To Epel, Pomefiore is the worst dorm. He remembers you teasing him about getting sorted to Pomefiore, but neither of you thought it would come true. It’s too stiff, too restrictive and cares too much about appearances. Epel’s heart feels heavy at the thought of the next four years here.

“Maybe Dark Mirror doesn’t sort the dorm judging by the alikeness of two last brain cells but the shape and colour of the soul,” you nudge him back, waking him up from his reverie.

“Or maybe it didn’t get any input of brain cells from you.”

“Well, your desire to be the prettiest boy in the town got to it, so I think it functions well.”

You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.

Epel finally sighs.

“…I would like to change the dorms.”

“I don't know whether the Dark Mirror accepts complaints,” you tease him. The gloom is abruptly replaced by irritation, and that’s nice. An angry Epel is better than a devastated Epel. “But if you ever want to escape for a while, you are welcome in my room. We can have a sleepover whenever you want.”

“…Thank you.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.

“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”

“It seems like my elegance bleaks in comparison to yours, pretty boy.”

“You are blind.”

Epel tries to push you away, but you sidestep while giggling. He glares at you, and thankfully, his eyes don’t seem that sad. When he returned to his seat after getting sorted to Pomefiore, he looked bewildered, as if he suddenly wasn’t in the NRC he dreamed of but some other, less-dreamlike school.

You remember him blinking back tears, but maybe not from sadness—thankfully, Epel doesn’t pity himself—but melancholy, as if he just lost something he didn’t even have. Maybe also fury and confusion.

“It will be fun to stay here together,” you prompt, and Epel sighs but a trace of a smile appears on his lips. Thank Great Sevens for the little lights that brighten the azure tones in his eyes.

“Guess I’m stuck being your neighbour forever.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No?”

“Of course not. You already know how great friend I can be.”

“…I guess you’re right,” he sticks out his tongue. Vil will have a lot of work if he wants to make him a fine gentleman. Well. You will take any version of Epel, even the pettiest and most teasing one, so it’s Vil’s burden to bear. “Kind of.”

You pout at him, but a quiet smile breaks your coolness. “So petty.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.

After several weeks in NRC, you could tell Epel still hasn’t gotten used to Pomefiore, and especially its leader.

“I can’t handle him pointing out each… well, everything!” He hides his face in his hands and sluggishly rubs his eyes; he looks tired enough even if Pomefiore must have those eight hours of sleep every night mandatory. “He would find wrongdoings in the way I breathe.”

“I would too. You don’t breathe as much through your nose as you think you do. That’s so very unhealthy, Epel. Your skin will be ruined in the next week of running.”

Epel throws you a warning look as if you had hit the nail with your talk. “Stop or I will strangle you with a pillow in your sleep. I already have Ace on my list.”

You chuckle at a threat, and Epel rolls his eyes. “How dramatic.”

“I have enough drama in my life,” he continues, and you can feel from his tone that he either suppresses the sigh. No apathy or fury anymore, though. Pomefiore must be slowly growing on him, and you take it as a good sign. “My two upperclassmen are going to be a death of me. I don’t know how could I end up in Pomefiore. This kind of lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”

“You complain about them a lot, but, in reality, you look up to him, no?” You tease. “Even you can say the beauty he possesses is influential and somewhat powerful.”

“He might look majestically but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. Now, let’s stop talking about him.”

“Why not? I might become Vil Schoenheit’s fan.”

He clasps his hands on your mouth, so you have to fully focus on his glaring.

“You can’t. You are my fan.”

You pout but after he takes his hands off you, a lopsided smile cracks your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Argue, duh.

That’s a hobby of you two, although a risky one. It always leaves a weight on your heart, because you cannot not care for Epel. While jokes and sarcasm are never intended to hurt any of you, and you can almost always distance yourself from teasing comments, his every word is precious to you.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” would make you roll your eyes if Epel didn’t look so serious. Your smile falters, and something in your stomach twists. You know this conversation was going to end in an argument even before he glowered at you.

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” you stutter the words, placing a hand on his arm. It would come as a reassuring gesture, yet Epel made an effort to move a seat away, and your arm fell aimlessly, sadly. “I am just worried about our grades. That have. Uh. Dropped marginally.”

You stare at your shoes because listening to your best friend being displeased with you so greatly is heartbreaking.

“We have the whole weekend ahead of us to study,” he argued. “Be serious. You don’t want me to go, because you weren’t invited, isn’t that so?”

You sigh. You’ve never expected to be invited to each of their meetings: they are Epel’s friends, and you have yours.

While you knew Ace and Deuce were delightful company, you always thought Epel would choose you over them, even if you suggested something as unentertaining as studying because you would do the same.

You were wrong, after all. Maybe that’s the difference of willpower between a just-a-friends mindset and having a crush on him. Do you really have a crush on him, though? Or maybe you’ve expected too much from a childhood friendship.

“Well, no. I mean, I would love to be invited, but—”

“We don’t need to hang out together every time we have a spare afternoon,” he said, and while it was a true statement, it hurt. If you weren’t able to somehow steel your nerves, you would know you wouldn’t be able to bear the prickling in your eyes. Epel’s next suggestion comes as a whisper. “Sometimes… We should take a break from each other, ya know? And I need to figure, uh, something out.”

The news shocks you so much, that you don’t notice how he visibly abstains from lifting a hand to his chest.

Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.

“Breaks from each other, huh…”

You take in the phrase in silence. Epel takes this chance as an opportunity to gather his things and pack them.

“…I’ll be leaving. Good luck studying or whatever.”

“…Alright. Have—” fun, you wanted to say, but the door shut and Epel left you alone.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Go through the silent treatment phase.

After a week of awkward conversations, Epel has forgotten about that talk. The pain in your chest dulled and you were growing indifferent as if you were watching a show—your life—that started to bore you, not engaging you at all.

You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.

— today —

Epel: Hey

Epel: are u free todya?? you’ve been so absent last weeks >:((

Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night

Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again

— seen: now —

…Yeah. You feel nothing, maybe only a little sad at the memory when you felt so vivid and happy when you got a message from Epel.

“No, sorry, I am busy with studying lol,” you type, and while you know that excuse will wear out in the next few days, for as much as you’ve been using it for the last week to avoid hanging out with Epel, your (ex-?) best friend starts to type something. He will protest and argue and try to convince you, but you don’t want to talk today. “Maybe next time.”

So you turn off your phone, sinking deeper into the pillows on your bed.

You don’t have the energy to confront Epel right now.

And that’s it.

…

You fell into a slumber deep enough to not hear the hesitant-turned-frantic knocking to your room.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Let Epel hear the advice of unreliable gurus of love.

They are really unreliable, look messy, and they judge you. The worst kind of people to go for (love?) advice, but Epel assures himself that he needs honesty, not a pat on his back or a shoulder to cry on. He also is out of other options.

Moreover, he would like to cry nowhere near Ace, who would obviously mock him. Even now it’s hard to have a heart-to-heart conversation when he and Deuce chomp on some type of dessert and some awfully happy music from videogame plays in the back of the room. “So? What did you do?”

“Ace,” Deuce is kind enough to elbow Ace in the stomach when Epel’s stoic expression falters.

His shoulders drop. “No, he… He is kinda right.”

Ace throws a winning smile but moves too far away from Deuce to have him punch him for the cheekiness. “’ Kinda’?”

“…Totally right,” Epel finally admits. “[Name] has been avoiding me and I have no idea what should I do,” He throws his arms on the table, and almost hides his face in the palms of his hands. Instead, he moves away the strands of his unruly hair. “Ugh. Why I am even asking you guys to help me? You’re even worse at this kind of thing.”

“Speak for yourself. And Deuce,” Ace cuts him off. And before Deuce can do anything else than glare at him, Ace shifts closer to Epel and throws an arm over his shoulder so he has to hunch. “Epel, question: what is “this kind of thing”. You mean… as in friendships or dating?”

Deuce looks shocked, even so more than Epel. “Dating?!”

“Why are you even so shocked?” Ace asks him, furrowing his eyebrows. When Deuce starts to ponder over his words, he rolls his eyes. “[Name] probably have had a crush on this imbecile”— he points his fork at Epel—” for damn years now, if I had to guess”.

“Years?!”

“Thank you for the dramatic echo effect again, Deuce,” Ace snarls and finally focuses on Epel. Too distracted with a bickering between his friends, his spirits lift up a little. “And you, Epel. Pull yourself together. Do you want to sever the relationship? Do nothing. Do you want to be friends? Apologize to [Name] and try to patch the bond. Do you want to be in a relationship? …Welp, figure out that for yourself.”

…

“Amazing advice, Ace,” Deuce claps his hands theatrically.

He sticks out his tongue and winks. “You could never give a better one.”

Epel gets up from his seat.

“Thanks, you two. I… will do something.”

“Good luck,” Ace waves at him as Epel makes his way over to the door. “If it works out, you owe us a free drink. Especially me.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Have Epel fight for your love!!

It’s hard to find someone when the person knows your schedule and actively tries to avoid you. Choosing more roundabout corridors and sacrificing your wallet to have most of your meals in Monstro Longue instead of the cafeteria are only some of the things you did to avoid encountering Epel.

But he didn’t give up, and maybe his tenacity is what makes you oblige Epel once he finds you.

You don’t question him when he grabs your hand and asks you to skip the last lesson with him that feels almost unimportant as his intertwined fingers warm yours. You don’t comment on how his grip is stronger than usual and how he doesn’t let it go when your hands begin to sweat.

But as you leave the main building of NRC, the curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we heading to?”

Epel looks over his shoulder to blink at you. “I…,” he stammers, as confused enough to leave you wondering what is your final destination. Or what was your final destination, Epel seems to have forgotten whatever plan he had in mind. “I guess it can be here.”

He ushers you into one of the side alleys, a bit distanced from the main street and sits you down on a bench. You eye him curiously as he slowly lifts his hands to your face—and that is the first time he let go of your hand—and cupped your cheeks.

“Let me be clear. I- really like you,” he said loudly, gazing into your eyes. “And I know I… overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to avoid me.”

You breathe out slowly. The heat from the “I really like you” moment prickles and makes your face hotter. It doesn’t help that Epel doesn’t shift his gaze from you nor that he has his hands firmly on your cheekbones as he awaits your answer.

“I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have been getting between you and your friends.”

Epel eyes you, bewildered. “Why are you focusing on that part?”

“Huh?”

“Ah. Maybe… I will phrase it differently,” He hesitates and his tone wavers, but he says the words without a stutter, as if he’s been practising them in front of the mirror, effectively. “I love you.”

“And I- I want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same.” He rushes with an explanation when you don’t answer as your mind goes blank. “Because. I don’t want you to… avoid me anymore. A-actually, you don’t have to rush with your answer. Just, decide, someday, in the near future, haha? I will wait.”

He glances at you and you know he won’t be able to bear long without hearing your answer. As he rushes past you, you think you heard a hushed whisper.

“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”

[munv]

𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗬

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗦𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼?

P6

This was it. He'd finally do it..it's been a year since he'd developed a crush on the school star. Itoshi [Name]. 

You were a quiet girl, but that was a part of your charm that everyone loved about you. Like anyone else, crushes were normal around this age. It was small and innocent, school girls talking about who they would marry and boys ranking who was cuter. Nothing out of the ordinary for the boy.

His name was Yuki Kiyoshi by the way, and this poor soul was planning on finally confessing his love to you this week.

There was one smaaall itsy bitsy problem though. The guard dogs. You were admired around the school sure, but nobody really had the guts to talk to you when your best friend Aoi Kagami was always hanging off your shoulder. You were a small quiet child who didn't find the means to interact unless necessary. Kagami was often seen with you 24/7 but because of her imposing stature, some couldn't find it within themselves to confess no matter how bubbly nor innocent the girl was. 

Not to mention you were the type of person to give only short responses, any conversation that was held with you ended with an uncomfortable silence in return. 

That was just your first guard dog though, the second one was a 4-year-old. Now, this would sound cowardly coming from a 10-year-old boy. But Kiyoshi swore something about that kid wasn't normal. How'd he know about this child? he's not a stalker since he finds those scary. He just so happened to be on his merry-go-way home and stumbled on you picking up a child from a neighboring school for smaller kids. 

You looked ethereal with a smile on your face, the sunset complimented your features perfectly. But what really caught his eye was the small boy with the Itoshi family's trademark eyelashes and reddish brown hair. He looked like you a bit, just more gloomy and reddish brown hair. What he noticed was that your bangs were up and tied into a style that complimented you perfectly while the small boy had his hand locked in with yours while eating a blue popsicle;  had his bangs down. It was noticeable if you paid attention, were all Itoshi's destined to be majestic beings or something? 

Nevermind that. That wasn't the problem right now. The issue was that the younger Itoshi glared at anything and everything in sight that wasn't you. It was like a mini chihuahua protecting its owner, and the threat it identified was Kiyoshi. He didn't mean to take this route and meet you, really! 

The usual way he takes home besides the detours he sometimes takes was blocked off due to construction. He figured taking the way you usually take wouldn't be an issue and thought of it as a win-win type of situation. 

Right now he was losing thanks to a certain pair of darkened teal eyes glaring at him. "Yuki-san? What are you doing here?" 

You finally gave him some acknowledgment..have the heavens decided to give him a chance?

"nee-san what's that thing" "that's not a thing Sae. That is a person"

Maybe he got it from you, but it doesn't matter to him. "don't be rude sae, we still have to go to the store to pick up some udon for tonight since mom and dad are out" So you were the responsible type around the household too? not like he couldn't tell but..you really were wife material like his classmates said! "excuse my little brother yuki-san. He isn't really too prone to talking with other people." You put your hand on his head ruffling up his hair in the process.

"no! it's fine really..haha.." poor boy could still feel his glare. Maybe he'd kill him off in his sleep if he was lucky. You quickly caught on to the tension in the air and switched to look at sae, just as quickly, he looked away and seemed unbothered. Strange..You could've sworn he was glaring just now?

"well if we're done talking yuki-san," you spoke while bowing "Me and my little brother will be on our way now" You turned around adjusting your grasp on sae's small hand and getting ready to leave. Well, you were getting ready to leave.

"WAIT!" kiyoshi slammed a hand over his mouth before nervously speaking again when his gaze met yours. "I-I'm going that way too! let's go together?" play it cool play it cool play it cool 

"huh?" Sae looked like he was just about to pounce the older male and rip him to absolute shreds. Which isn't too far off the mark. "why not? I'll have to take Sae home first so we can both change before going to the store though. So is it fine if we split ways once we reach home?" 

"right! of course!" And so, the walk home had started with you three. It was engulfed in silence mainly. Kiyoshi walked a bit far off from where you and Sae were, the first few minutes you all walked side by side he prayed what he saw was wrong. 

Sae inched closer but still within your hold. He looked like he was about to bite his hand off, so he instead settled with walking behind you two. That was when you started a small conversation with him to his surprise. So when you asked 'what made him want to take this route home' he was already stumbling over his words trying to sound all nonchalant. "I- uhm..- Work, wait no! work on road?!" yeah, so much for nonchalant behavior. 

Sae deadpanned at the boy in front of him. Was he going to turn this stupid once he turns 10? Hopefully not. 

the rest of the walk was accompanied by silence once more before you reached your house. "alright yuki-san, thanks for the company" The minute your front door came into view sae had rushed in but not before motioning a neck being sliced off to kiyoshi. As you were about to enter the comfort of your home, you were stopped once again by your schoolmate. "Itoshi-san please wait!" 

Turning around your eyes scanned over the slightly taller figure who had been trembling. 'why is he shaking??' you wondered. "I've..needed to get something off my chest for a while now!" kiyoshi proceeded to bow deeply, unable to look you in the eyes by the sheer embarrassment he  was feeling. "I've..always seen you as cool and calculating, you're really pretty too!" 

'oh no..is he going to vent?' your mind wandered into a frenzy 'How do I comfort him? uh- don't tell me he's comparing himself to me..' 

"yuki-san listen-"

"and i've come to the realization that! I'm.." his voice wobbled along his bottom lip. 'i gotta say it!' he took a deep breath. "IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!" 

The next morning Kiyoshi had his head down in his classroom, seemingly mourning. The question was, why?

"yo! kiyoshi my man, what are you so down for? it's a wonderful morning!" one of his friends Samu Ejiro stated. He was always a bright boy with an outgoing personality no matter the situation. 

"Not now Ejiro.." he mumbled with his arms covering his depress-stricken face. "eh? what's into you? usually, you're fine." another friend of his, Kamado Ayato chimed in. Compared to the other two in his friend group, he was the silent type. Ejiro looked at the boy with a questioning gaze before it finally struck him. "could it be..you confessed to Itoshi-san at last?!" 

His body went rigged at the confrontation. "no way..what'd she say?" Ayato asked desperately. 

"well.." kiyoshi sniffled. 

FLASHBACK

"not interested." you waved your hand dismissively as if the boy before you hadn't spilled out his heart to you. 

"first, we've only talked once." A brick fell on his head. "We're too young." Another one fell on his head. "I can't accept your feelings when it isn't mutual." An arrow struck through his already broken heart. The boy groveled to the ground and soaked in his failure before you. "but get home safe yuki-san!" quickly you walked towards your door after flashing him with the most grammy and jaw-dropping smile in history; all the while closing it with a hard slam.

END

"damn...don't worry kiyoshi! there are many fish in the sea!" Ejiro boased. "she's right though, you're too young to be looking for a relationship anyways." Ayato took a bite out of his sandwich, unaware of how blunt he sounded. "YOU GUYS AREN'T HELPING MY CASE???"

                                          ITOSHI OMAKE

After the confession you rushed inside the house, making sure to slam the door behind you. Taking deep exaggerated breaths you gripped your school shirt tightly. Adding onto the wrinkles you already to it. 

"damn..that was close..kids nowadays are crazy," you muttered before standing up straight. "wait why are the lights off?" You walked deeper into the darkness before navigating your way to the light switch and turning it on in the process. "sae? where are yo—"

Sae sat down within a chair right in front of you, legs crossed as he drank his kombucha in a..mug?.. Your house cat miko was perched upon his lap watching you intently as sae stroked her fur. "So? what was your answer?" 

answer? what is this tiny devil spawn talking about..oh right. The confession. 

"wait you KNEW about it?" 

"I saw the way he looked at you when you picked me up." he took a sip before continuing. "precisely he blinked at you with doe eyes 25 times with 150.2 milliseconds each. He played with his hands and he was very jittery may I add. Along with the way he avoided eye contact and the way he sucked in his breath? yeah kind of hard not to tell." Miko purred in content to the younger Itoshi's statement. 

'what the fuck did I feed him this morning?..' 

"Ignoring the oddly specific stalker-like description you got going on there. I declined. Never really met the guy properly anyways." You crossed your arms with a confused look. 

"good. He looked like he would give me wimpy-looking nieces and nephews anyways."

"WHAT??" 

you forgot to note how sae was sharp tounged too. 

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Drabble)

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Pogue!Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Toxic/Forced Relationship.

AN: This is directly based on the Headcanon (👈 click there)

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

"and then I’m gonna put a diamond on that finger.” Rafe whispers against your ear, body fully pressed against your back, relishing on the way you shiver as the freezing wind hits you. 

It’s a beautiful night, the sight from the Druthers is absolutely breathtaking, Outer Banks looking gorgeous even though you hate it so much, the lights illuminating the grandiose mansions that spread along the coast.

The yacht itself was majestic, filled with luxury in a way that you’ve never witnessed in your life.

But not even all the wealth in the world can change the negative feelings that are nested deeply inside your heart, sadness and resignation prevailing.  

You feel trapped. Trapped in Rafe’s embrace, his arms secured around your waist, keeping you flush against him. Trapped by his controlling delusional traits. Trapped by this new Kook lifestyle that has been imposed on you as you became Rafe’s “girlfriend”.

You hate it all. 

“You’re gonna be a Kook very soon, sweetheart. A Cameron. My wife.” Rafe reminds you, his tone holding a hint of possessiveness.

His arms squeeze you tighter and you hold back your breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. You tap his hand, signaling for some space as you quickly slip away from his embrace.

He follows you back inside the yacht and you barely hold back the panic attack you’re about to have. 

You gulp down the content of an elegant glass you catch around, hoping it would soothe your nerves. 

“Rafe..I…We shouldn’t rush, right? There’s no reason to hurry into marriage.” you hate how whiny your voice comes out, but Rafe doesn’t react, looking at you with a calmness that scares you. 

He doesn’t utter a word, so you keep going. 

“I mean…We should get to know each other better. I barely know anything about you.” you plead, fully ignorant of the way Rafe’s jaw clenches. “But maybe with more time-”

“You want time? Is that what you want?” he questions you, taking a large step closer “You want time to figure out how to run away from me? To plan some fucked up plan to keep me away from you?”

You shake in the high heels Rafe forced you to wear, feeling yourself getting wobbly. 

“No! That’s not what I-”

“Save it, I know exactly what you want, I’m not stupid, Y/N” Rafe pulls you closer, hand gripping your forearm so hard to the point that you can feel the blood circulation getting strained. 

He leans forward, face pressing against the crown of your hair. You close your eyes, feeling the warm tears behind your lids.

“I know what your plan is, sweetheart…” he whispers, “but it’s not gonna work. You’re mine now and no one - not even you - can stop that.”

[hrefna-the-raven]

The devil you do

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Words: 1818

Summary: you might indeed do the devil ;-)

Warnings: smut (18+)

Your group finally made it to Baldur's Gate and you were glad that everyone decided to split up and get their things done, at least for one day. The constant looks and questions about Raphael started to annoy you, especially since you still had idea what to tell them. It wasn't as if you could just confess that you felt a certain pull towards the devil, they would never understand it, not even Wyll.

As you aimlessly roamed the streets on your way to Wyrm's Rock, a sudden impulse compelled you to ascend the stairs adjacent to Sharess Caress. The reason behind this mysterious inclination remained unknown, but deep within you, a stirring sensation emerged, as if an unseen power had taken control of your body, guiding your every move. Eventually, your footsteps halted before a door, and your gaze instinctively fell upon the plaque adorning it. A smile gradually spread across your face as you absorbed the words etched into it: Devil's Den. Without hesitation, your hand reached for the doorknob, only to be surprised by the door swinging open, revealing Raphael in his human form. His characteristic smug grin adorned his countenance as he warmly invited you inside.

"I see my little mouse caught her cat's sent", he playfully remarked, motioning for you to enter.

The chamber was softly illuminated by an array of scarlet and ebony candles, creating an intimate and romantic ambiance. Your eyes wandered towards a table positioned in the centre of the room. It was adorned with a crimson cloth and adorned with an assortment of delicacies from various corners of Faerûn. However, you couldn't help but observe that a majority of the dishes were precisely the ones you would consider your personal favourites. A smile crept across your face, realising that he had gone to great lengths to make everything seem perfect for you.

"I can tell that someone has put a lot of thought into the decorations and food choices. Although I was still waiting for a response about whether you would accept the deal or not, I have to ask, what is the reason behind all this?", you cautiously chuckled, unable to hide the surprise in your eyes as your hand gestured around the room.

"Oh, my dear, don't be so taken aback", Raphael chuckled, "there is no reason why we couldn't discuss our little deal over a delicious meal", He firmly held onto the back of the chair, pushing it slightly forward as you sat down, before leaning closer, whispering in your ear, "the devil is, after all, in the detail."

"Before we delve into this conversation," you reached out and took hold of his hand as he passed by, "may I request a favour?"

"That would depend on the nature of the favour."

"I would like to have this discussion with the devil I know, not the human guise you wear."

Raphael's smile widened and with a snap of his fingers, his human form ignited in flames, transforming into his hellish form as he tenderly kissed your hand.

"That can be arranged."

Raphael settled into a chair on the opposite side of the table, his majestic wings neatly folded alongside him. His head embellished by four black horns, his burning orange eyes and sharp claws added to his imposing presence. Despite his seated position and a well-groomed appearance, his infernal nature still exuded an impressive and slightly intimidating aura. The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company, savouring the exquisite meal and fine wine. It was a moment of tranquillity before the inevitable truth threatened to tarnish the connection you shared.

Internally conflicted, the devil grappled with the decision he had made. By choosing to embrace the truth this time, he risked everything. Yet, he had agreed to the deal and sealed it with a kiss, leaving no room for retreat, not even for a smug hellish bastard than him. All his schemes, deceptions, manipulations and the meticulously planned coincidences, it would all cease to exist in a moment. If he had misinterpreted the signs even slightly, he stood to lose more than just his carefully crafted plan; he stood to lose you. However, you were oblivious to his inner turmoil, unable to hide your own nervousness. Perhaps you dreaded the revelation of the absolute truth for entirely different reasons.

"It's time for your end of the bargain", you finished your glass of wine and set it on the table, your gaze lingering on the devil.

"Indeed it is", he sighed, "you intrigue me, little mouse, one might say that I've grown quite fond of you, you know, in my own way."

You observed a subtle fracture in his usual confident facade, his wings twitching momentarily as he uttered the final words, so softly that it almost resembled a mere murmur.

"Quite too fond, actually", the devil rose from his seat and cautiously approached you, while gesturing around with his usual theatrics, "you know who and what I am, you know the rules of hell so I won't say this twice as just this once might already get me into more trouble then you're worth it", His hand gently clasped yours, his other hand delicately tracing its claws along your skin, "from the moment I laid eyes on you, I sensed something special. There was an undeniable connection between us, intertwining my... heart with..."

Raphael shut his eyes, exhaling a trembling breath, unable to complete his sentence despite the deal the two of you had.

"Mine", you whispered tenderly, placing his hand against your chest, "I felt it too."

You pulled him closer, leaning in, your mouths colliding in a fervent embrace.

"The chase ends now", you breathed heavily as you broke the kiss,attempting to distance yourself, but Raphael held you firmly.

"And what does that mean to you?", he inquired, a trace of unease lingering in his voice.

"That the cat has caught the mouse and will finally devour it", you replied, your fingertips trailing up his arm before gently caressing his cheek.

Raphael clasped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your arms away which drew you closer to him, his face drawing near as his tongue cautiously grazed your lower lip, prompting a shameless whimper from you.

"I will devour you over and over again, my little mouse, until you scream my name so loud for all the nine hells to hear it."

He effortlessly lifted you, gracefully carrying you into the other room, where he gently set you down on the bed. As soon as your butt made contact with the plush mattress, your clothes vanished into thin air leaving you both naked. When you glanced upwards, your eyes met the gaze of a demon brimming with insatiable desire, accompanied by a mischievous smirk. You could hardly formulate a clever remark before sensing his firm grasp on your legs, parting them and drawing you closer to the edge of the bed. He lowered himself onto his knees and trailed his tongue over your wet folds. The sensation was scorching, surpassing the warmth of a typical human tongue. The contrast in temperature heightened your arousal, causing you to release a passionate moan.

"Finally mine", he groaned inbetween licks.

His pace quickened relentlessly, you took hold of his horns, pushing his face further against you in a desperate attempt to gain more of that intoxicating pleasure. He let out a low chuckle against your wetness, eagerly sucking at your clit, coaxing even more of those delightful sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Raphael, I-"'

He immediately retreated, pushing you away as he crawled over you.

"Oh no, my little mouse, we're going to do this together," he smirked.

"Together? Indeed", you mused, "but the cat won't be in charge this time."

Enchantment coursed through your veins and with a burst of energy, you flung him off of you and trapped him in a seated position at the edge of the bed. Slowly, teasingly, you moved closer to him, planting kisses and nibbles on his inner thigh before dragging your tongue along his length, provokingly slow. A deep groan rumbled dangerously in the devil's chest, his breath growing heavier as you straddled him, your hands intertwining in his hair.

"No one has ever dared this before", Raphael hissed, trying to disrupt the spell you had cast over him until he felt you positioning his cock at your dripping entrance.

"Well devil, let me be your first then", you grinned mischievously and slid down on him, moaning loudly. Raphael's head tilted backwards, his mouth agape, revealing his pointed fangs, yet no utterance escaped his lips, completely devoid of all control. He would never confess it, but the sensation of helplessness in your presence was exhilarating, stirring a profound excitement within him. Your name slipped from his tongue like a sacred invocation, a testament to his longing and desire. Your concentration wavered with each movement, plunging into the pleasure of the devil filling you up completely, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, inevitably resulting in your spell weakening. As soon as Raphael noticed this, one of his hands found its way to your hips, his claws gently digging into your soft flesh, guiding your movements to urge you to go faster and you were more than willing to oblige. Your lips clashed on his, his feral growls muffled by a passionate kiss as the both of you neared the brink of climax dangerously fast and your hands settled on Raphael's chest, feeling his excillerated heartbeat, surrendering completely to the ecstasy and you both finally came undone at the same time. Your walls clenched around his cock and your felt his hot seed filling you up.

Raphael lifted you up, slowly making his way up the bed. He positioned you on top of him, wrapping his wings protectively around you as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You couldn't help but giggle at his unexpected tenderness, lovingly cupping his cheek. "Well, well, who would have imagined that a devil could be so sweet?" you playfully remarked, planting a quick kiss on his neck. "Mhm," Raphael mumbled, "if you dare to share this with anyone, I might just have to punish you."

"Punish me, huh?", you responded daringly as you rubbed your teasingly against his cock which earned you a deep groan from him.

"Are you sure you're not a devil, my little temptress?", the cambion chuckled, his arms around you tightening.

"It takes one to know one", you replied, feigning an innocent and sweet tone in your voice.

Resting your head on his chest, you listened to the soothing rhythm of his calm heartbeat. The warmth of his skin enveloped you, lulling your exhausted self into a peaceful slumber. It had been a long time since you had felt such tranquillity and security. If someone had told you that you would find all of this in the arms of a devil, you would have laughed and called them insane.

[some-pers0n]

Too many designs of Darkstalker paint him as this dark, twisted, imposing character. Majestic and evil radiating off of him. What if instead he was designed to look live a sniveling pathetic bag of bones? I'd like to look at him and immediately think: "Ah, the misogynist incel". Somebody who, despite not being physically imposing, would 100% use god magic to rule the world. Still an aura of evil around him though, but it's more like the vibe you get from a 14 year old white boy who is deep in the manosphere and 4chan pit

[devilevlls]

Lucifer's day off ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

Word count: 748 words

Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, so well known as an imposing and powerful figure, had a characteristic that few knew about: his obstinacy in working tirelessly, even when his body cried out for rest.

That day, the demon immersed himself in his usual tasks, focused and determined as always.

But something was about to change.

While he meticulously signed his papers, MC planned a surprise for the majestic demon. The human knew it was time to make Lucifer enjoy a moment of rest and pleasure. With that in mind, they had prepared a day off to Prince Diavolo's private beach, a place reserved only for the most intimate friends.

With sunglasses and a cap on, MC approached Lucifer with a mischievous smile, entering his study. "You deserve a rest, come on now" They announced, gently grabbing the demon's arm and leading him towards the prepared surprise.

Initially, Lucifer resisted, frowning at the sudden outburst. “What do you think you’re doing dragging me along like this? I have a lot to do.”

However, MC persisted with calm determination, reminding the demon that even the most powerful needed a moment to recharge. “Don’t you want a moment alone with me? You need to rest. I prepared a surprise…”

With a mixture of curiosity and reluctance, Lucifer finally relented, allowing MC to lead him.

As they reached the shore, the sun was bright over the dark waters of the hellish sea, creating a stunning and mesmerizing scene. MC unrolled a towel on the hot sand as Lucifer watched, initially perplexed and then slowly letting himself be carried away by the serene and relaxing environment.

“Come on, let’s lie down here.” The human said as they sat on the outstretched towel, calling him to snuggle into their arms. The demon of pride, normally so serious and focused, allowed himself to relax and enjoy the company and beauty of the moment.

He reclines, nestling against MC's chest, and allows his eyelids to flutter closed for a brief moment. The gentle breeze tousles his black hair, lending a carefree disarray to his locks, as he savors the comforting embrace enveloping him.

"Did you see? Isn’t it worth it?" The human asked while admiring the perfect features of his face, smiling slightly when they noticed the slight arch of his eyebrow.

“You know I can’t afford to do that often.” He responded in his thick, intimidating voice, his eyes opening to stare into theirs.

Ah… What a beautiful pair of eyes…

His black iris with slight red details stood out in the sunlight, leaving anyone entranced by such perfection. So was this what the used heaven's favorite angel looked like?

While enjoying the gentle breeze and the sound of waves gently crashing, MC and Lucifer immersed themselves in an intimate and heartfelt conversation. As they discussed everyday matters, he occasionally raised his arm and reached for MC's face, his fingers gently gliding across the soft skin of his companion's cheek. Lucifer's touch was firm and sure, but also filled with a tenderness that few had the chance to witness.

"Lucifer. I really want to tell you something.” MC said a little nervously, waiting for the demon to sit down again.

"What is it? You seem agitated.” He asked worriedly, now facing them.

"I… I love you." Their words quiver on their lips, betraying the underlying uncertainty that accompanies the admission of such profound emotions.

Initially, the Avatar of Pride chose silence. His eyes expressed emotions that his words couldn't capture. He approached MC and, without a word, lay down on the human's body, his strong arms wrapped around MC's waist in a safe and warm hug. Slowly, his lips met the human's in a passionate kiss, full of tenderness and affection.

“I love you so much…” The human whispered between the kiss, returning the contact with the same intensity.

Lucifer looked up to meet MC's eyes, his own heart echoing in sync with the human's quickened rhythm. In his expression, there was no trace of surprise, only a deep serenity, as if he had long known the feelings that were now vocalized.

With a gentle smile curving his lips, Lucifer tightened his embrace around MC, as if seeking to convey through touch the love that words could never fully express. "And I love you, my darling," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

The two lovebirds, enveloped by the heat of love that consumed them, gave themselves completely on that special day. They kissed and exchanged hot caresses, each touch fueling the flame of desire that burned between them.

There was an electricity in the air, a palpable tension that enveloped them as their bodies yearned for more intimate contact, however, they decided to postpone exploring their sexual interactions to another time.

As the day came to an end, Lucifer realized that his resistance to rest had been unnecessary. He understood that even the most powerful beings needed to allow themselves moments of pleasure and relaxation.

When returning to Devildom, Lucifer carried with him precious memories of that day at the beach, and he would like to thank MC for opening his eyes.

Masterlistɞ

[naffeclipse]

Hi, hi! I'm sure you are totally unaware of me going through your blog just now XD

But! I saw a bit of Humpback Y/N and I can't stop thinking about the small drabble you wrote way back! (Can't find it unfortunately, or don't know the specific tag to look for it hkfdg) But it was the one about how their relationship would advance and by the end of it y/n gets stuck on top of some thick ice. And it's so incredibly dangerous for someone the size of y/n for that to happen to of course! And I remember they were trapped up there for a good while, which weakened them considerably, even if they don't quite get to the actual size of a humpback whale. And I seem to recall that when Eclipse finds them they hear him teasing them for their situation (or perceive it that way at least), but they have no energy so they don't answer him at all.

And aaa I just can't stop thinking about that specific moment, because from Eclipse's perspective that must have rang every single alarm bell. This mer, who has been antagonizing him since they met, able to keep up with him in both snark and their little competition, who has grown on him so much and become a constant, physically capable of manhandling him and pettily blocking him from getting to his prey easily, who is large and majestic and physically imposing, and has always given him a challenge, they are now still and worryingly quite, still moving but having none of their usual spark, their energy, and suddenly he might realize that they've been there much longer that he perhaps thought, that time is ticking and they are weakening by the second. And then he breaks the ice and catches them, just as they are passing out!

And aaa I can't help but be curious of what happens next! Because god, if they're passed out he'd have to make sure they can remain breathing, but also try and check them to make sure they haven't been too damaged by having to support their own weight for so long, that they will be able to swim on their own when they wake. And if they need healing before they can move well again, likely he'd have to help them get food, at least until they can get back to their pod.

Would he try to stubbornly take care of them himself? Or when they seem well enough take them to their pod who can more easily take care of them the rest of the way, which might be for the best since they are so big? Aaaaa lots of questions! But I live for that hurt comfort haha XD

Anyways yes, just wanted to ramble a little about this two, because that last scene sure gave me a lot of feels gfkjhkhjds

I love each and every notif, babe <3

Ah, yes! It flips in Eclipse's head from playfully 'maybe they might need help' to 'oh no' the second they don't respond as they should, as they have during their time battling back and forth! He's immediately on it. When they do sink into his arms through the broken ice, he pulls them quickly to the open ocean and cradles their head on his chest, floating to let them breathe and rest. Y/N is okay, but they are exhausted and need a moment or two to regain their strength before swimming on their own again.

Eclipse doesn't want anyone to take Y/N from him when he needs to make sure they're okay, so he cares for them by himself, without alerting their pod. It would be wiser to let sirens their size attempt to keep them afloat while they rest but Eclipse is nothing if not determined (and a little frightened by finding his lovely, strong siren in such a weakened state).

Ahh, I'm glad you enjoy these two! <3

[cuubism]

No worries if the prompt doesn't inspire. I just want it out of my brain:

When Dream is captured, his ruby automatically goes to Hob, who is suddenly in charge of the Dreaming. He has to figure out what he's doing, realize his Stranger is missing/rescue him, and try to get answers on why the Dreaming chose him.

this could absolutely be a 100k epic, which... i just don't have the energy for right now, but here's a potential scene:

--

Hob's been to more than a few castles in his long life. Hob's as old as more than a few castles. He's seen them from afar, and in more prosperous times he's been in them, majestic old forts and comparatively modern palaces bursting with color and finery and legions of staff.

And the thing about castles is they're busy. It takes a lot of staff to run a castle. The only castles Hob's seen that were empty were the ruined ones, fortresses that predated even Hob, were nothing but crumbling remnants by the time he ever set foot inside.

More like tombs, those castles. Relics. Memorials.

The palace he's in now feels more like that.

It hasn't crumbled, still has all its glass intact, its draperies and rugs not yet moth-eaten, the strong pillars of the throne room still reaching up to an infinite sky. It's beautiful, fine stone and intricate carvings, stained glass murals and impossible bridges--but desolate. And quiet. Quiet enough his soft, bare footsteps echo loudly on the flagstones as he walks towards the empty throne at the end of the long room.

It's so empty. He hasn't seen a soul yet. Twilight falls through the stained glass, casting patterns of red and orange at his feet. Winding stairs meander up to the throne, nearly lost in the gloom. Melancholy blooms in his heart, like he knows, through some instinct, that this place should be different. The feeling of standing in ruins of stone and thinking, this was grand, once.

The ruby glows in his palm, pulsing steadily.

Hob slowly ascends the stairs, unsure exactly what he's looking for. Answers? A way to revive this place from its steadily deepening torpor? He just climbs, and he reaches the throne, and runs his hand over the hard cut stone. Imposing, unforgiving, and no trace of its master. The king's gone.

For all his many careers, Hob's never been any sort of king. It's not something one just becomes.

He wanders behind the throne, just below the high stained glass windows. The ruby warm in his palm. When he steps into the shadows, they change, and a new room appears around him. A softer, more enclosed room, for private musings rather than public audiences. A bedroom. The king's bedroom.

Morpheus's bedroom.

Hob startles, grip closing around the ruby. He doesn't know how the name comes to him. Only he holds the ruby, and he feels it.

The room is simpler than he might have expected of a king, almost sparse, as if little time is spent there. The draperies are dark, the bare stone floor cold underfoot, and the massive window looks out over twilit fields and mountains, an entire kingdom below.

Hob almost walks over to it, but his attention is diverted by the robe that lays strewn across the bed, disrupting the otherwise untouched lines of the linens. He picks up the hem of the long, black cloak. The fabric flows like mercury between his fingers for all that it's heavy and thick like a shield. Like a shroud.

Hob gathers it up in his arms, a quiet gasp escaping him. He knows such black clothing. He knows this ruby. Only he hadn't seen it before. Hadn't seen that he was dreaming.

Morpheus. His stranger. A king and he'd never said.

He'd always had that bearing, though, Hob thinks as he twists his hands in the impossibly soft fabric of the coat. He'd never have let Hob in here, especially not after how they'd left things. He'd never have given Hob his ruby, which Hob can now feel isn't just an expensive trinket but actually some sort of powerful object. If they'd even reunited, if his stranger had returned, Hob had expected at best concessionary forgiveness for his bluntness, and possible just sullen silence. Not an invite to his inner sanctum.

A space which his stranger is conspicuously absent from.

Hob doesn't like the feeling of what it adds up to.

He takes the cloak, and the ruby. Lays a hand indulgently on the bedspread, imagining his-- his friend, he'll be determined about it, sleeping there. Not he seems to sleep much, from the look of things.

Then he leaves Morpheus's bedroom be, and goes to see if there's anyone left in this abandoned kingdom who can tell him what's happened to his friend.

[riddles-fiddles]

Pspspsp MC with a royalty kink and wants to act out this fantasy with Rook Hunt. Afab please:)

I am hearing you out. I'm pretty sure Rook does have a royalty kink as well, though he would rather take the paper of a knight, a bard, hunter, or any other kind of servant lmao

Au Clair de la Lune (+18)

Synopsis: Rook partakes the role of a loyal knight who's eager to please and show his absolute devotion to you. Charcaters: Rook Hunt Tags: royalty kink, praise kink, worship, oral sex, most foreplay Notes: AFAB gender neutral reader, 1k word count, everyone is 18+ Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rook rests his forehead down to the back of your hands, the ones which he holds with deepest esteem - like they are a pair of jewels with indefinable value. "I thank the grace you bestow upon this humble knight," his voice is a melody of sincere devotion, lips ghosting over your skin. "I'm grateful for allowing me to taste your skin, your higness."

As his eyelids flutters open, his gaze is captivated by the way you stand there, a mighty and imposing figure sat on the throne - the bed you two shared - as the moonlight hugged your curves with lavender outlines, enhancing the strands of hair shadowing your features, the way your shoulder curved slightly to the front, an uncoscious gesture to your desires.

He revels on your beauty, the way your stern gaze looks back down on him paralyzing his heartbeat; the feeling of being merely a pawn to your orders sending thrills down his spine. Rook has the heart of a poet and the desire to please of a servant, and being by your disposal was enough for him - his merciful, generous ruler.

Rook reserves his duteous instance; knee firm against the floor, hat pressed against his chest in a chivalrous way, his sharp eyes are cloudy with restrained lust, resigned on your next demand.

"Your obedience is commendable," a gracious smile paints shyly between Rook's lips at your words, his features softening in antecipation for your approval. "But it's not quite enough to prove your loyalty to my reign." With a low tilt of his head, Rook glances over your majestic face with inquisitive silence while his hands traveled down to your thighs, his gloved digits a feather brushing along the lines of your knees before tracing the design of your ankles. The gesture was careful and zealous, as if he was touching a monumental paiting - because in his point of view, that's what you are anyway.

"I beg your pardon, my sovereign. Allow me to correct my unfit behaviour."

Rook gently enveloped the back of your sole, bowing down to press an affectionate kiss over the curve of your feet, his warm breath tickling on your skin as the gesture left a lingering, warm feeling over your exposed skin. Taking his time, his lips climbed with passionate devotion over the same trail his fingers had previously marked on your body, his contented sighs a sweet incantation.

You reveled on the silent worship that Rook incited over your skin, wordless promises of his love and desire for you spreading to your nerve endings with every new kiss. His confident gaze met yours by a flickering moment, the sight of his face resting against your skin as he held your thigh with adorational attentiveness making you sigh in antecipation, heart skipping a beat as you marveled at the raw emotions shared between you two. Though you played a stern facade with your uptight words, there was no concealing of the way your body naturally responded to Rook's touch, practically melting against the contrast of his warm lips and the cold leather of his gloves.

Slowly, your thighs parted, revealing your bare core. Rook admired with contented surprise as you did so, tongue dewing over his lips in antecipatio with hunger glistening over his indigo eyes, gladly coming up to meet yours as you held his chin up, grip possessive and urging. "Prove your devotion to me, Rook," your voice lingered like a sweet spell hummed into his ear. "Bring pleasure to your majesty."

"Oui, mon majesté. Votre commande est mon plaisir."

Rook readily removes his gloves, laying them on the floor right beside his hat. His lean, firm hands come to rest on your soft inner thighs before leaning in, pressing a kiss over your clit, tongue spreading the folds. He gently sucks the sensitive bud over his tongue before pressing down, circling around as he alternated between different kinds of stimulation.

Your gratified sigh beckons him further. Rook brings two of his slender fingers to your wet core, slowly pressing down as he kept his mouth occupied with your clit, languish laps being contrasted by the intense, eventual sucking.

His heart jumps with delight as your pleased groan fills his ears, a hand coming to grip on the back of his head before pulling him closer, breath hitching slightly by the feeling of your hips bucking up, desperate for more friction.

His tongue is quick to match the pace you so desperately urges to find, rolling around the bundle of nerves in reverse to your motion as his fingers thrusted inside you slowly - teasing your sweet spot by pressing his digits against the soft area everytime he pushed them deep inside you.

You cry his name out like a prayer as your back meets the bedsheets, pleasure quickly turning overwhelming. Taking advantage of it, Rook positions both of your legs over his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly from the bed to get better access to your sensitive area; skilled, lean fingers rolled deep into your core, building pressure beneath your abdomen. The wet sounds that resonated shamelessly through the room, Rook's slurps and the merciless slapping of his fingers against your slick core sent shivers down your spine, your orgasm nearing its peak as your eyes fixed on the man's focused face.

And with a final, rough thrust, Rook's finger curls agains, sending an aggressive jolt of pleasure all through your body, making your back arch and your thighs close around his head. Rook can feel your orgasm shaking you from head to toe, but his mouth doesn't cease until your body finally starts to relax, too enthralled by the way you squirm under his touch, a shudder of veiled excitement mixed with satisfaction running over his own skin at the prospect of being the one responsible for your climax. His tongue savours the taste of your cum, and as you lift your head, a panting mess from the overwhelming explosion of senses, your flushed face greets Rook's confident yet messy grin, his face glistening with your slick all over. Still, he looks absolutely overjoyed, licking the mess from his lips greedily. "My precious, terrific knight," you sing the praises in soft, panting whispers, your grip easing around his hair in gentle caresses. "Your devotion is undoubtedly unmatched. Come, allow your ruler to reward your efforts." Rook's smile widens, his whole being flourishing with a chaotic mix of love, gratitude, pride and excitement by your sincere praises, quickly lifting himself from the ground to taste your mouth he so much longed for.

[fwckriley]

Just a suggestion but how about a fic where Ghost is incredibly protective over the reader but doesn’t realise it’s because he’s actually in love with her

Simping for this man I swear 🧎‍♀️

The Trials and Tribulations of Being in Love Pt 1.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: 4.098

──────────── ❖ ────────────

He shouldn't have come. This mission was hers, and hers alone. When they told her that Ghost had requested to accompany her on the mission, at first she felt angry, but after they embarked together, that feeling diminished. It was comforting to have someone familiar by her side, of course, she would never admit to him that she was grateful. She and Ghost had participated in previous missions together. However, as much as his presence pleased her, she was still angry that he had interfered in her mission. She refused to talk to him, but he didn't seem affected. Honestly, he even seemed to like it.

She was assigned to investigate an international arms trafficking led by a dealer whose identity was unknown. Her task was to find out who the dealer was, where he was, and to prevent the sale of weapons into the hands of Iranian military.

They had just landed at Tengah Air Base in Singapore. As she and Ghost got off the aircraft, the hot sun of Singapore hit their faces, indicating it was already late. The heat was strong, but there was a gentle breeze that made the weather pleasant. Tengah Air Base was bustling, with many people coming and going. Planes took off and landed, generating a deafening noise that seemed never to cease. There was a crowd of uniformed military personnel running back and forth, transporting equipment and luggage. Some were waiting in line to board one of the planes. Others chatted in groups, laughing and smoking. Some civilian workers in orange uniforms carried boxes and equipment into one of the hangars, while a supply truck entered the base, raising clouds of dust. Soon, a local-looking man greeted them with a polite gesture and signaled for her and Ghost to follow him. He led them to a discreet black car parked near the runway and opened the door for them to get in. The inside of the vehicle was cool and comfortable, a relief from the heat outside.

The agent seemed nervous, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tried to maintain small talk, but his voice trembled with anxiety. Ghost remained silent, seeming lost in his own thoughts, his face expressionless. Meanwhile, she answered a question or two with disinterest, looking out at the urban landscape passing by. The tall buildings of Singapore rose majestically in the distance, forming an imposing silhouette against the sky. The streets were filled with hurried cars, blaring horns, and pedestrians rushing to escape the chaotic traffic.

Upon arriving at the hotel, which was half an hour away from the city, she and Ghost headed to their assigned room. The environment was simple, with rustic wooden furniture and white walls, without great luxuries or extravagant decorations. She observed the room, noticing details such as the two single beds with white sheets and a small built-in closet in the wall. Upon closing the door to the room, she sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue from the long flight and the confusion of time zones. Her eyes wandered around the room, noticing the open window and the fresh breeze that came in, bringing with it the scent of the forest. With a quick movement, she threw her bag on the bed and turned to Ghost, who was organizing the baggage in the room. He had taken most of her baggage. She didn't even argue against it.

"It's not the best room I've ever stayed in, but it's better than nothing," she commented with a smirk. Ghost simply nodded his head without saying a word.

She approached the window, admiring the vast green expanse of the forest that stretched out before her. The sun still shone brightly in the sky, giving a golden hue to the surroundings. With her hands resting on the windowsill, she felt the breeze hit her face, bringing a slight relief. Turning around, she walked towards her bed, pulling out the black folder she had brought with her. With agile fingers, she carefully opened it, revealing the detailed information about the arms trafficking operation that was inside. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, absorbing every detail.

She looks at Ghost and asks, "So, what do you have in mind?"

"We need a contact in Singapore, someone who can give us information without raising suspicions."

She crosses her arms and retorts sarcastically, "Oh, is that all? That easy?"

Ghost turns around and faces her.

"No, it's not easy. That's why you're here."

"Oh, and here I was thinking I was on vacation," she says sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and moves away, going to the window.

After a few minutes of silence, she looks at Ghost and says, "There's a guy I worked with once. I met him in..."

"Is he trustworthy?"

She shrugs.

"I trust him as much as I trust you."

Ghost snorted and turns his face back to the window, saying nothing.

"I'll call him and see what I can do," she replied as she got up from the bed and went to a more private place.

❖

After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to arrange a meeting at a bar in the city. When she returned to the room, she found Ghost sitting on the edge of the bed tinkering with his equipment. She approached him and informed him about the scheduled meeting.

"I got it. He wants to meet me at eight in a bar at Marina Bay," she said with a satisfied smile.

“Okay, I'll get ready,” Ghost replied, already getting up from the bed.

“You were not invited, Ghost,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He looked at her as if challenging her to stop him.

"Ghost, seriously. First, he's my contact and a really difficult guy to deal with. He's going to be suspicious if someone he doesn't know shows up, especially if that person is six feet three inches tall and looks like a damn refrigerator wearing a weird skeleton balaclava." As she spoke, her tone of voice increased, not quite yelling, but her previous bad mood was becoming more evident. She stopped herself before continuing. "Second, they might recognize you. And nobody can know we have a SAS lieutenant here, got it? It'll ruin the mission."

He stared at her for a long time. She could see him struggling with his thoughts. After a few seconds, he simply shook his head and went back to tinkering with his gear.

"As you wish," he said emotionlessly. "But you'll keep me updated."

"I'll keep you updated," she repeated.

"And you'll behave. And if anything goes wrong, you'll let me know immediately and find shelter," he continued.

"Whatever you say, goes," she assured him.

He nodded. "Get ready."

And as ordered, she promptly started to get ready for the meeting. She dressed carefully, wearing a discreet outfit and no flashy accessories, so as not to draw attention from the regular customers of the bar.

As she entered the bar, she felt a bit anxious. The loud music mixed with the sound of lively conversations and glasses being placed on tables. The dim lights made it difficult to see the surroundings. She walked towards the counter, where she ordered a drink and observed the environment carefully. Small tables and uncomfortable chairs were filled with a variety of people. Minutes later, her old contact arrived at the bar and he immediately recognized her. He looked older, but equally handsome, his dark skin contrasting with his elegant purple suit. Not at all flashy, she thought. They greeted each other with a nod and sat at a more secluded table, where they could talk more privately.

❖

After the meeting, she returned to the hotel. Ghost was checking his weapons and communication equipment again, a habit he learned over the years in the SAS. He did it a thousand times during missions, always trying to make sure everything was perfect. The only illumination came from a weak and yellow lamp, leaving the room with a dark tone. His bed was full of guns. She entered the room, closing the door softly. He turned around abruptly, holding his pistol firmly. Their eyes met, and he lowered the gun as soon as he recognized her.

"It’s me," she identified herself. Ghost sighed and turned his attention back to his equipment, without offering any response or greeting.

She approached and sat at the table, where there were documents and maps spread out.

"So, what do we have?" he asked, without looking up from the equipment.

"He said the guy we're looking for is known as The Merchant, but he doesn't know how to find him. However, if we want to find out more, we could start by looking for the port of Singapore. Apparently, it's an important trafficking point," she explained, pointing to the map.

“Which means it’s heavily guarded.”

“Wouldn't be fun if it wasn't.” She said with a smile “There’s more. He said he heard that in two days a group of Iranian military officials will arrive to make the weapons purchase.”

“Matches up with the info Laswell gave me,” Ghost said.

“I can try to infiltrate the operation and gather more intel on the flow of weapons and how they’re being transported.” She proposed, confidently.

Ghost nodded in agreement.

“Not going to be easy,” he replied.

She looked at the map attentively, searching for a point of entry.

“Where do you think we can get in?”

“Through the fish loading dock, it's less monitored and gives access to the restricted area of the port,” Ghost suggested.

“And what about the Iranians arriving in two days?” she asked.

"We have to act fast. If we infiltrate now, there will be fewer people present and the darkness will give us an advantage. In the meantime, I'll stay in a strategic position, providing cover and support in case something goes wrong."

She nodded her head, already thinking about the details of the operation. She grabbed her computer and began analyzing the port images, looking for possible weak spots. Ghost approached, getting so close that she could feel the heat of his body. She tried to ignore it as much as possible and continued.

"I don't like this," said Ghost, pointing to one of the surveillance cameras in the port. "They have eyes everywhere."

"If we know where the cameras are, we can avoid them and move more easily."

"It's risky," said Ghost, "You'll have to be very careful..."

"Understood," she said, getting up. She began checking her weapons and equipment, while Ghost prepared his sniper rifle.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

"Yes, what about you?"

She nodded her head.

"Then let's go."

The two of them left the hotel room and headed for the port of Singapore.

❖

It was midnight and the streets were practically deserted, with few cars circulating that part of the city. The port of Singapore was a few kilometers away and they headed there on foot.

"There's an observation point over there," Ghost said, pointing to a small building near the port. "I'm heading there."

"Great," she said, giving a mischievous smile. "Let's have some fun."

"Stay focused, agent. Security here is tight. One mistake and everything could go downhill."

"Yes, I know," she replied, with a more serious tone.

"Wait for me to give you the signal before you enter," Ghost said.

“Understood.”

“Take care of yourself. I don't want to have to carry your dead body around.”

“Oh, you're so sweet. I'm touched. Really.” She placed her hand over her heart in a theatrical gesture. He ignored her.

They parted ways and went in opposite directions.

When she arrived at the port, she successfully infiltrated it with Ghost's help in avoiding the security cameras. She crept through the shadows, avoiding the most brightly lit and crowded areas. With every step, she looked around, searching for signs of surveillance or alarms. Ghost silently accompanied her on the other side of the radio, giving precise instructions and alerting her to potential dangers only when needed. Typical, she thought.

The night was dark, with no stars in the sky. There was a cool breeze blowing, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea. The stacked containers reached impressive heights, creating a kind of maze. The port lights only partially illuminated the area, creating deep and dark shadows that moved with the wind. She walked quietly, staying low and hidden among the cargo.

Meanwhile, Ghost was stationed in a nearby building overlooking the port. The building he was in was old and had dirty, dusty windows. He used his sniper rifle to keep an eye on the entire area and provide cover for her. There was an open laptop next to him, flashing with real-time images from various security cameras scattered throughout the port.

"You've reached the entry point," he said through the radio. "There are no guards in the area. Enter and proceed forward."

She followed the instructions, advancing towards the entrance. When she arrived, she hid in the shadows and looked around, checking for any more guards or cameras.

"No sign of activity," she said, without pausing. "I'm entering now."

"Be careful," said Ghost.

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't worry, Ghost. I won't screw everything up."

"I hope not," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Relax," she said, trying to ease the tension. "I have everything under control."

He didn't respond. She knew he wasn't happy with the situation, but she couldn't help but find it funny.

"You know, Ghost," she said, the malice in her voice, "I love it when you're mad. Gets my blood pumping."

"Don't start with that now," he replied, in a warning tone.

She laughed again. "I know you like it."

He sighed and turned off the radio. She laughed again, feeling victorious. She knew she had managed to irritate him, but she also knew he would never leave her in danger.

"There's a guard coming your way. Get behind those containers," he whispered through the earpiece.

As she approached the heart of the port, activity increased. She noticed an area with reinforced security and armed guards, likely where the weapons shipments were kept. She knew she needed to get closer to get a clearer view. Carefully, she went unnoticed by security guards and walked through dark alleys, alert to any sign of danger.

"You're getting close to the restricted area," Ghost warned. "Be cautious."

She approached slowly, observing the guards' activity and patrol routes. Still hidden in the shadows, she prepared to move when the right moment came.

"There's a guard coming your way," Ghost whispered again.

She quickly hid and waited patiently as the guard passed, unaware of her presence. When he moved away, she advanced again. Finally, she reached the restricted area and peered through a crack in the crates. Inside, she saw a row of reinforced containers, guarded by several armed men. She focused on her breathing, remaining calm and focused.

"Are you seeing anything?" Ghost asked through the radio.

"They're guarding the weapons containers, just as we suspected," she whispered back.

"Okay, I'll cover you from here," Ghost said. "But be careful."

With Ghost's words in mind, she carefully planned her next move. She needed to get closer to get a clear view of what was inside the containers. Cautiously, she approached the entrance of the restricted area, always hiding in the shadows and avoiding the lights.

"Ghost, I think I found something. I'm going to investigate," she said to him through the earpiece.

Ghost remained in his position, watching her every move, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. Meanwhile, she advanced cautiously, dodging the henchmen and hiding behind crates and containers. She observed two men talking in hushed tones near a large green container. She approached stealthily, trying to listen in on what they were saying, but before she could get close enough, one of the men spotted her. The man was about to shout an alert when Ghost took him out. She drew her pistol and fired, hitting the other man squarely. She approached the green container and opened it carefully, finding a large quantity of weapons and ammunition, all American-made and bearing the seals of a US arms industry.

"They're trafficking American weapons to the Iranians," she whispered.

"Copy that. Get out of there fast. There's a group nearby," Ghost replied.

She carefully closed the container and moved stealthily through the port, remaining alert to every movement. Despite the orders to leave, she decided to hide and wait for the group to pass by her. She advanced cautiously, following the group from a distance, hiding behind crates and containers.

Ghost tried to persuade her through the earpiece to turn back and wait for a more propitious moment, but she ignored him. She arrived at a warehouse, where men were loading boxes onto a truck. She watched as they loaded the boxes onto the truck. Unlike the boxes in the container, these bore the flag of Germany.

"These weapons are German," she said to Ghost through the earpiece. However, he didn't respond. She tried to communicate with him a few more times, but still no answer.

That was when Ghost appeared by her side, surprising her.

"You shouldn't have come alone," he said in a reproachful tone. "You're putting your life at risk."

"I thought we could find out more, and guess what? I was right," she nodded towards the boxes marked with the German flag.

He held her arm tightly and pulled her close to him.

"Let's get out of here before we're discovered," he said urgently. "Several cars arrived with guards. Were you listening to me? I told you to wait."

He looked at her with anger. If she didn't know him, she could swear there was concern in his eyes.

"I was following a lead that I deemed important, and I was right. There are American and German weapons here," she replied, trying to justify her actions.

"You don't understand the gravity of the situation. Now we're surrounded," retorted Ghost, his voice growing louder. "Tell me, Y/N, how do you plan to get us out of here?"

He never called her by her first name. She opened her mouth to argue and closed it several times.

"I'll figure something out," she finally said.

"Oh, you'll figure something out. Are you going to teleport us?" he teased.

"You're being impossible, seriously."

"I'm only being impossible because you're being irresponsible," he countered.

The two continued arguing in a louder tone, until they caught the attention of the guards, who began to approach them. Ghost and her stepped back, but the guarda had already spotted them. They drew their guns and began shooting. One of them aimed in her direction, and Ghost quickly moved her aside. Quickly the guards went on alert.

He kept a firm stance and a serious expression as he moved with agility, trying to find cover between the boxes. She could feel her heart racing, adrenaline taking over her body. She tried to argue with Ghost, but he seemed to have taken the lead of the situation and didn't want to hear her suggestions.

"We don't have time for this now. We need to get out of here before they find us," said Ghost, trying to find a way out. "Let's go."

They moved quickly and managed to escape the location before the henchman reached them. As they ran through the port, shots echoed behind them.

"Damn the moment I decided to follow you!" Ghost shouted, still angry with her. "I told you it wasn't safe, but you never listen to me."

"I never asked you to come on this mission in the first place," she retorted, annoyed with him.

"If I hadn't come, you'd be dead by now."

"We won't get anything done if we keep blaming each other," she said.

"I'm not blaming us. I'm blaming you," he said before running towards a clear path to the left. Without hesitation, she followed him and both entered a maze of containers, using them as cover while exchanging shots with the henchmen.

One of the shots grazed her arm, making her groan in pain.

"Are you okay?" Ghost asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she reloaded her gun.

They kept moving, searching for an exit. The shots decreased, giving them a chance to catch their breath. They hid behind a container, regaining their breath and assessing the situation.

In a stroke of luck, she noticed an open gate and pointed it out to Ghost. He looked in the indicated direction and, without hesitation, started running towards it. She followed him, her quick steps echoing on the ground. The gate was huge. There was an armed guard standing in front of it, but for some reason, he seemed distracted. The open gate led to a wide road with many cars passing by. As they approached the gate, the guard finally noticed their presence and tried to close it, but it was too late. Ghost hit him with a knife, and he fell to the ground soon after.

They ran down the street trying to get rid of the guards who were chasing them. When they saw the entrance to the subway ahead, they approached it without hesitation and entered. People moved away, frightened, as they passed by. She couldn't help but think of the guards who were still chasing them, looking over her shoulder at all times to check if they were being followed. At one point, one of the guards managed to catch up to her and grab her, but she freed herself with an elbow strike to his rib and a kick to his stomach. In the midst of the confusion, she also managed to grab the cell phone of the guard who had grabbed her.

She looked at Ghost and spoke in a low and urgent tone:

"We need to find a way to get rid of them and get out of here."

"I agree," replied Ghost, watching the crowded platform of people coming and going.

They jumped the turnstile and ran to the train platform that was about to leave.

"Let's take the next train," she said to him. Ghost nodded in agreement.

They got on the subway car and concealed themselves amidst the crowd, blending in with the passengers. Glancing out the window, they saw the guards running towards them. The subway car was packed with people, all squeezing together for space. The air was permeated with a mix of sweat and metal. She and Ghost blended themselves in with the passengers. The guards showed up on the opposite end of the subway car, scanning around. Then, the gunfight erupted. Gunshots reverberated through the subway car, and the passengers shrunk in fear, trying to find a secure place to shield themselves. She and Ghost attempted to dodge the bullets and retaliate, but swiftly realized they were outnumbered. They spotted an emergency door close by and didn't think twice before trying their luck. With a shove from Ghost, the door swung open, and they hurled themselves into the dark tunnel, clueless of where they were headed.

Finally, they saw an entrance to a ventilation duct and crawled inside, trying to hide. Her hearts were still beating, and her breaths were tired as she and Ghost recovered from the escape.

The ventilation duct was dark and narrow, but it would do. She and Ghost squeezed into the tight space, trying to find a more comfortable position. The air was stuffy and dusty. She looked at Ghost and saw that he had a tense expression, probably still processing what had happened. They fell silent, listening to the sound of their own breaths and trying to detect any sounds that could indicate the presence of the guards. Time seemed to pass slowly, and she wondered how long it would be safe to stay there. After half an hour, Ghost spoke:

"You ruined everything. You could have gotten us killed."

"We're running against time, it seemed like a good idea to try and find out more intel. I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Ghost retorted. "You could have waited for more information, for a better plan. But no, you always have to do things your way and on your own time."

She sighed. She knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn't change what had already happened.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down.

"I hope so," he said.

──────────── ❖ ────────────

if you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience!!! i know there are mistakes, both in typing and in english, but please keep in mind that english is not my native language. I hope you enjoyed it. ❥ ❥ ❥

[inufaiya]

A drawing of what Dedede would look like with a knight's armor from that line where he grew up with Meta and the others.

I have to admit that he looks imposing and majestic, what do you say?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Un dibujo de como se vería a Dedede con una armadura de caballero proveniente de esa linea donde se cría con Meta y los demás.

Tengo que reconocer que se ve imponente y majestuoso, ¿Qué decís?

[yournaothings]

Shattered

((Ahem. A short story of human being saved by what they assumed was an angel; only to witness that this so called "angel" was anything but that. *No warnings, I don't think. Talk about Oc's universe/home being destroyed. Hopelessness, feeling of loss, comfort, then betrayal.

I did my best for Shattered Dream, like I had said in a previous post, I don't know much about him. I read the fandom wiki's to kind of help me out. So, possible OOC for him. Probably ooc for him. heh...

The story was inspired by lyrics from "Unbecoming" by Starset.

You found me drifted out to sea

It's automatic

It's telepathic, you always knew me

And you laugh as I search for a harbor

As you point where your halo had been

But the light in your eyes has been squandered

There's no angel in you in the end

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Enjoy the fic!

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"I hope you find your room to your liking. Good night, my starlight."

The room? It was more than I had expected. The large bed was comfortable, covered with silk sheets and a cozy warm comforter. The amount of pillows outnumbered the ones I had on my own bed at home. The rest of the room was very spacious, lined with a wardrobe, a vanity, a body length mirror, a bench that sat at the end of my bed, and in the wall in the middle of the room was a fireplace with a fire burning bright and warm. 

The castle was cold and dark when Dream led me to my room. The only light was from the burning torches that sat high up on their holders on the walls. The light from the flames gave the environment a gothic and almost creepy feel to the halls. The fireplace in my room was a comfort for sure. The light from the flames of my fireplace was perfect, as well as the candle lights that sat all around the room. Even the connected bathroom had candle lights burning. 

Being here made me feel like royalty. A better feeling than what had had only hours ago when I found myself without a home-

That's right. I no longer have a home. What did Dream say? My universe was destroyed and somehow, miraculously I survived and was thrown into the anti-void? The dull room? Plains? Whatever you want to call the boring, blinding place that is the "anti-void."  

I was lost. Walking for hours, I think? I couldn't keep track of time. I didn't even know if it was day or night! My body was exhausted by the time Dream found me. I was lost, and so worn down that I had thought he was a hallucination. But then, he came to me as if he were an angel sent from above! Even though he was a skeleton.

His gloved hand held out while he gave me a brilliant, calming smile. His eyes are pretty gold, as was the circlet he wears on his head. His clothing made him look like an angel of sorts, though they didn't billow like you would see in the movies. But, the yellows were so vibrant, and the green or turquoise bordered the tunic he wore.  The black under armor? Or maybe it was compression wear? Whatever it was, it was the perfect look for his outfit, making him look so regal. 

I hadn't realized I was on my knees when he found me, dried tears caked to my face. When did I start to cry? It had to have been while I was aimlessly walking about the empty void. With hesitation, I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet, and oh, his voice was so majestic, so imposing. 

"There, there. No more crying." 

He settled my nerves, my sadness, my anxiety. He told me how he watched me break free from the destruction of my home and fell here. 

"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. Now that I have you, will you allow me to help you?" 

I couldn't say no. Not when I had nowhere to go and no home to go back to. Going with him was the safest for me, the only way for me to get out of here. 

"My name is Dream." 

"Are you a guardian angel?" 

He laughed softly at my question, his free hand gently covering his teeth, as if to hide his laughter. His pretty gold eyes shifted to look at me.  

"Is that what you think I am?" 

I nodded; of course I thought he was an angel! He saved me! His only response was a soft pleased hum as he guided me through a strange portal. 

I slept so soundly throughout the night. 

I felt so safe. Not even my nightmares could get to me. It was like Dream was protecting me physically and mentally. I knew I could stay here forever, or for as long as Dream allows me to stay. Somehow, I had to repay him for his kindness.

If only I had thought better of the situation when I had met Dream.

The next few days (at least I think it's been days) went by without a hitch. Dream continued to help me out. He conjured up new clothes for me- he must have gone out and bought them! Another thing on my list of things I needed to repay Dream for. The food was very delicious, and his company was soothing. We talked. (I talked to him, Dream listened.)  We got to know each other! (Dream got to know my personality, my likes, my dislikes. My comforts and my fears.)  Everything seemed to be going well, and I was so happy about it! 

"How would you like to live with me?" 

Dream finally asked, his elbows were propped up on the dining table and with his fists clenched, his chin rested on top of them. His grin was lazy, relaxed. His eyes were unreadable, but I didn't notice. I perked up and I could feel my lips widening into a grin.  

"I would love to! I really like it here!" 

Dream chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "Wonderful. I must throw a welcome party for you." 

I raised an eyebrow as I finished my breakfast. "A party? You don't have to do that." 

"Oh, but of course!" Dream said with enthusiasm! He stood from his seat and started to walk towards the doorway leading out of the dining room and into the kitchen. I grabbed my now empty dishes and followed after him. It would be rather rude to just leave them on the table! As I walk into the kitchen, fully intending on washing my own dishes, I paused and my grin faltered. 

Dream walked over to three skeletons who looked oddly similar to Dream. I paused as I looked at each of them and frowned. 

"What's going on?" 

Dream turned to face me as he stood in between the grinning skeletons. His hands slipped behind his back and hooked together as he stood in a perfect, regal stance. His friendly grin was gone and was replaced with something more sinister looking. As my own grin fell, the skeletons' grins widened. 

"We're going to throw a party for you, remember?" 

I glanced at each skeleton, then at Dream. 

"These are your friends?"

"you sure did pick a stupid one, shattered!"  The one skeleton with what looked like a wriggling target on his front spoke with a snarky tone. 

Dream hummed with amusement as he seemed to take great joy in my discomfort. 

"A naive human, yes. But, they are perfect for what I have planned." 

As he spoke, Dream's body shifted into something more grotesque, terrifying so. His body leaked with what resembled black tar that continuously dripped from his body. His left eye socket was covered by his goopy tar, and the right socket remained the pretty gold color I grew to love. I choked on a gasp when from his back four tendrils protruded out and hovered and wiggled behind him. 

He pointed to his head, a sickening amused grin widening as his one good eye socket widened in mirth.  

"Still think I'm an angel? There was never a halo, pet." 

His once majestic voice was gone and replaced with something so dark and frightening. He was a nightmare. 

"You tricked me. Into doing what exactly?" 

I was hurt, betrayed. I thought he was my friend. I thought he was my savior. 

"Anything that I desire of you."

"But, why?" 

"Why do you think, pet? A lost soul in the anti-void? You should consider yourself lucky that I found you and not Error." 

"I don't know who that is." I shook my head. It was then I felt myself trembling in fear. The dishes were still held tightly in my hands. 

"Oh, you'll meet him eventually; and when you do, you can thank him for destroying your home." 

My eyes slowly widened as he said this. 

"H-He's one of your friends?" Dream's laugh was my answer.  "Dream- why?" 

"hehe! they're still calling you by that name?" 

"his name... is shattered." 

"you should be thankful he saved you." 

"Heh. I suppose I should give introductions. These will be your friends. Killer, Dust, and Horror." 

Drea- Shattered gestured to each skeleton. Killer was the one with the wiggling target, the black tears streamed down  his cheekbones and stained his bones. Dust was the one with the mismatched eyes. Blue was what made up the middle, while the red bordered it. I could barely make out his grin. He wore a torn scarf around his neck. And finally, Horror was the big guy with a huge crater on top of his skull. A massive head wound and just below that was one large, nightmarish eye light. His clothing, much like the other two's clothing choice, was torn and bloodied. Horror was the perfect name for him. 

I moved without thinking. My dishes fell from my grasp as I turned to run. Where the hell was I going to go? I never left the castle. I didn't even know where this castle was! But, the safest place I knew of at that moment was my bedroom. 

"want me to chase after them?" Killer grinned as he summoned his knife.

"i can chop... off their feet." Horror snickered. 

Dust grunted in disgust. No way was he running after that human, unless Shattered asked for him to do so.

"No. Let them run. There's nowhere to go. I will always know where they are from now on." 

Shattered's laughter echoed through the halls, reaching the ears of the panicked human who was now a prisoner to Shattered Dream and his team of Bad Sanses.