#Wayward traveller; Interests

[lilac-scales]

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[orbmanson7]

Me, with every fandom I fall into: okay but how do I make a wayward children crossover for this

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Diasomnia

Gender Neutral Reader x Diasomnia vs. Prince Stefan Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Diasomnia Version

ie. Wherein Malleus invites you along to Briar Valley's Festival of Roses and Sebek drives you to near insanity. Thankfully (?) getting lost in the chaos means you meet another wayward soul.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

“I don’t think Sebek likes me very much,” you sighed.

“Oh?” Malleus blinked, clearly a bit thrown by the sudden accusation. “What would make you think that?”

Your glare swiveled pointedly to a sharp bolt of green just barely poking out from behind one of the many dilapidated pillars. Sebek’s yellow eyes slowly rose up with the rest of him, and the half-fae glowered at you like a pissy tomcat.

Malleus’s brilliant, neon, gaze slowly tracked yours, and when it met with his Knight’s startled gaping, his brow furrowed in annoyance. His irritated scowl was always a bit hard to read. Was he being pouty? Murderous? Both? Hell if you knew.

“I see,” he sighed after a moment, long suffering.

You just hummed in grumpy agreement as Sebek tried to duck back down behind the debris.

You and Malleus had clicked from the get-go. Perhaps it was because he’d never really had a friend before, and you were far too stupid and naïve about the rules of this new world to understand anything about the implications behind that. The Fae Prince was easy company—he was smart, with a dry, oblivious sort of humor that could leave you in stitches. His ensuing confusion about why you were laughing was always a surefire way to get you laughing harder. You enjoyed his company immensely, and you liked to think that he enjoyed yours enough in turn that perhaps your fleeting humanity had left at least a teensy impression on his near-immortal soul. Or, you know, whatever. At the very least, you were a semi willing student for his nightly architecture lectures, and you knew that at least put you in better standing than, say, Leona.

So when you received a personal summons to the Briar Valley’s Festival of Roses—hand delivered by the Crown Prince himself—you were over the moon.

“You seemed interested in our customs,” Malleus had explained. “And seeing as I invaded your home over the Halloween festivities, it only seems right that this time I extend you the invitation into mine.”

You agreed enthusiastically, because hell-fucking-yes you wanted to see all the mystical, magical, mumbo-jumbo that this world had to offer. Sure, you were trapped here for an indefinite amount of time, but you would be damned if you let the only cool part of any of that miserable uncertainty go to waste.

“Is there anything I should know?” you asked, fighting the urge to bop around the carriage like a toddler on a sugar high. Because that’s how you were travelling. In an honest-to-goodness horse drawn carriage. (Or, well, magic drawn or something.) “So that I don’t embarrass any of you or anything, I mean.”

Lilia was smirking over at you with a kind of fond amusement that you assumed meant he’d picked up on your rabid excitement from a mile away. Your vibrating was probably shaking his seat. Occasionally his wine-red irises would flick to Malleus, and that smirk would curl into something sharper, something mischievous.

“Humans aren’t too common to see,” Malleus said, with the same, odd sort of tension about him that had rocketed through his too-tall frame the moment you’d climbed into the seat beside him. “But they are not entirely unfamiliar either. You should be treated fairly.”

Your horned friend had been strangely silent throughout most of this journey. The weirdest part was that he seemed absolutely determined to stare out the window—head turned at a sharp angle, his hands clasped neatly in his lap and shoulders pulled so stiff and straight that he could have been one of the gargoyles that he so loved. And for someone who usually made far too much eye contact, the lack of acknowledgement was a bit unnerving.

“You’ll be more than fine as you are,” Lilia translated, the points of his fangs peeking out from behind his grin. “And I can promise you that any guest of Malleus’s will be welcomed with open arms.”

Malleus continued his resolute stare down with the glass and Lilia snickered into his palm. Sebek made a strangled noise from his seat across from you. He hadn’t been particularly vocal thus far about his disapproval of your inclusion (you doubted Sebek had it in him to openly question any decision of Malleus’s), but the look of complete and utter dismay twisting his face was telling enough.

You leaned in and prodded Malleus gently in the side.

“I won’t be, like, executed or something if someone hears me call you ‘Tsunotarou,’ will I?”

Sebek squawked and there was a sudden strike of lightning just outside the carriage window that rattled the entire coach with an echoing boom.

“No,” Malleus said emphatically, his lime-green glower zeroing in on you for the first time since this entire venture began. “No one will touch you, no matter what indiscretions they may think to assume you guilty of.”

“But, young master!—” Sebek started to argue. “The impropriety of—” he spluttered. “To even think thatyou could be addressed as—as that is—"

“No,” Malleus repeated, nearly a growl, and another bolt of bright static lit the window. The electricity seemed to linger in the air long after the flash had faded, like a little, rippling, current running the edge of its teeth along your skin. “And this will be the last it is discussed.”

The terrible, quiet, tension that followed was broken by a snuffling snore as Silver shifted, his head flopping from where it’d been pressed against the wooden paneling to instead land with a heavy thwump against Lilia’s shoulder.

“How… How did he sleep through all that?” you asked in awe.

Lilia sighed, affectionate, and reached out to ruffle a clawed hand through Silver’s hair. “He’s so special~”

.

.

You knew that Malleus was royalty and blablabla, but you hadn’t really anticipated all the things that came with that. The castle? Yes. Totally made sense. The entire entourage of servants that appeared to whisk away your bags? Also rational. Sorta cool, and definitely made you feel a bit too much like a celebrity, even if you understood the need for such protocol.

Malleus also immediately being whisked away?

Now that… That you hadn’t really considered.

“I’ll meet back with you as soon as I can,” he promised. Lilia and Silver had already vanished down a separate winding hallway, and the prospect of being left all alone in this gargantuan foyer was just short of terrifying. “There are some final preparations for the Festival that I am required to oversee personally.” And then there was another moment where Malleus resolutely refused to meet your gaze, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say it was almost like he was being coy. But it passed quickly enough and instead he cast a pointed glare towards his subordinate. “Sebek can show you around in the meantime. He’s a more than capable guard.”

You looked at Sebek and Sebek looked at you.

Uh-oh.

“How long will that take?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound as whiny as it felt. But, like, come on. This was basically the human equivalent of your friend inviting you to come visit for the holidays and then immediately dumping you with their weird aunt and the dog that never really learned not to pee on the carpet.

“Only until the evening,” he assured, like it wasn’t just barely past ten in the morning—like eight-plus whole ass hours was really no time at all. And to be fair, for him it probably really wasn’t. But for you and your very mortal panic, it immediately felt like you were facing down eternity. You didn’t know what your face was doing, but whatever it was, it made Malleus’s brow scrunch up in concern. “Will that be alright?”

“Of course,” you lied, like a good guest. “You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”

He smiled that small, slanted, smile of his that always looked just a touch too sharp at the corners. And then he was gone, and it was just you and Sebek.

“So,” you tried. “Do you know what any of that was about?”

“LORD MALLEUS’S PRINCELY RESPONSIBILITIES ARE NONE OF YOUR CONCERN, HUMAN!” Sebek barked, crossing his arms sternly across his chest. “IF THE YOUNG MASTER DID NOT SEE FIT TO INFORM YOU, THEN I SEE NO REASON WHY I SHOULD EITHER!”

You groaned and valiantly fought the urge to drop your head into your hands.

.

.

“Don’t touch that, human!”

“How dare you—you’re going to embarrass the young master!”

“Human! Don’t you dare!”

“Human!”

“HUMAN!”

You were going insane. You couldn’t blink without Sebek snarling at you about impropriety, and the fact that your very presence in this castle was a failing of tradition itself. You tried to ask about the Festival and were immediately shut down. You inquired politely if there was anything you could do to help, only to be told firmly that silly little humans weren’t good for anything and to keep your nose out of it. You asked to use the bathroom and your stupid, mortal, bladder was cursed within an inch of its life.

“It would have been easier not to bring you at all,” Sebek grumbled for the thousandth time as he grouchily led you through rows of decorative stalls.

“I am aware,” you grit out, grinding your molars.

“I still can’t understand it,” he rambled. “No matter how many times Master Lilia explains it to me, you—this—it defies all logic!”

“Friendship isn’t always logical,” you bit back, firm. Because that is what you were, right? Friends? And then, because you were angry and wanted to hit him where it hurt— “You know, if Malleus is so willing to sully himself by keeping someone as lowly and stupid as me as his friend, maybe that’s a sign that the other company he’s forced to keep is less than ideal.”

Sebek puffed up like a rooster in a cock fight and turned on you with a snarl.

“How dare you presume to call yourself the Young Master’s friend!” The corners of his lips curled down over jagged canines. “At best you’re a pet—something that’ll long outlast its welcome before you eventually wither away and die.”

Annnnd you had officially reached your allocated tolerance of Anti-Human-Bullshit for the day.

So when Sebek was caught up in another one of his longwinded tirades, you slipped into the gap between two of the Festival stalls and out the other side. The silence was immediate and like a balm against your sore hide.

There was something about Sebek that made you think he didn’t really mean all those things he spouted. Occasionally there was a kind of disquiet in his yellow gaze, especially when he ranted angrily about the shortcomings of his very human father. The green-haired fae was far from subtle, and you had a feeling that all his huffing and puffing was probably to hide something… else. Something more uncertain and small that he downright refused to address. Because humans were weak, and short-lived, and chaotic. And he would have to face that sooner or later. With Silver. With his own parent. And hating that humanity was no doubt easier than loving and losing it.

That being said, his prickly behavior still made you want to punt his head like a spiky, green, football. So.

You wandered around aimlessly through the intricate maze of market stalls and booths. Despite the perpetually grey cloud cover, everyone here was so cheerful. And Lilia was right—no one seemed to give two shits about your very human eyes, and face, and stature. It was really nice. You spent so long strolling through the rows that you barely even noticed when the sky began to darken and the crowds thinned as you approached the outskirts. There was an ominous roll of thunder in the distance, but you didn’t think too much of it. The clouds looked ready to open up any second. It was probably just a bit of rain.   

There was a little, makeshift, dirt pit at the edge of the stalls, and you observed it curiously. It was ringed with colorful, triangular, flags, and the inner crater was lined with archery targets and wooden sparring dummies. It reminded you a bit of those competition fields in Renaissance Fairs.

However, so enraptured by these painted planks were you that you wound up crashing headfirst into a wall of crimson, and immediately plummeted towards the ground. But then a strong arm was around your waist, twirling you back to your feet. And boy was it a twirl—like you were being swung around into an entire waltz. It left your head spinning worse than if whoever-it-was had just let you faceplant into the dirt.  

“Wow, ow. Your head is way harder than it looks. Ouch. My poor ribs.”

You immediately moved to apologize, but were caught off guard by a pair of softly rounded ears peeking out from beneath mused, brown, hair. Another human. Like you. You blinked a few times, not entirely sure why the idea of another mortal gallivanting around the Festival was so surprising. You fought what would no doubt look like an insanely creepy urge to lean closer and get a better look at his face, just to make sure—to check if his canines were blunted, if his pupils were round and soft rather than narrow slashes of black. There was another low rumbling of thunder, closer this time. It was followed by a sharp crack of lightning that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“Sorry about that,” you finally managed to eke out, vision still a bit swirly.

“It’s alright. It didn’t actually hurt that badly,” your victim chuckled, cordial, and set you back on your feet. It was a very lovely chuckle—deep and warm, like melting, dark, chocolate. “Are you alright? You look a little dazed.”

“I think so—” you began, before accidentally putting a bit too much weight onto your left ankle. It twinged painfully and you winced. Immediately that hand was back at your shoulder, keeping you balanced. “Or maybe not.”

“I guess my head is still harder than yours after all,” Mister Brunette mused to himself.

“I don’t think your head twisted my ankle,” you mumbled, confused.

He tossed his head back with a laugh, and you couldn’t help but notice that he had very lovely cheekbones. Not as sharp as Malleus’s maybe, but still perfectly proportioned to the rest of his very well-cut face.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Are you lost too?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you hummed, glancing around at the semi-familiar layout. You couldn’t really tell if you recognized the little stalls because you’d seen them before, or if it was just because they were standard make and all looked more or less the same. “…Probably.”

“We can be allies in idiocy then,” he snorted pleasantly, and reached out with his other hand to double up on helping you better maintain the balance that you so clearly did not possess.

“Does this new ally have a name?” you asked, still a bit dizzy.

“Stefan,” he grinned—all white teeth and charisma. “After my great-great-great—” He paused for a moment, as if considering, “great-great-grandfather.”

He laughed merrily at whatever disgruntled face you were pulling.

“Yeah. I guess it is all a bit pretentious,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But that’s just the way it is back home—for my family, at the very least. Lots of tradition this, and lineage that.”

“Oh?” you hummed. “Sounds stifling.”

“It is! I mean, it’s practically the 14th century now,” he laughed, and you genuinely could not tell if he was being serious. “I’m always telling my father it’s time to get with the times, you know?”

For a moment, you were reminded so strongly of Malleus and his general dissociation with the modern world that it was almost startling.

“And you?”

“Me?” you blinked.

He laughed. “Your name? If you don’t mind me inquiring, of course.”

You gave it freely. Lilia had cautioned you once upon a time about something-something-power-in-a-name, but Lilia wasn’t here right now. And it’s not like you were anyone special enough that your name could mean much of anything to begin with. Maybe, if they were lucky enough, someone could use it as an incantation to summon a hungry racoon from the sewers.

Stefan repeated it merrily, with the same inflection one may use when telling a fantastical tale to friends in a tavern. No ravenous racoons spawned from the trees when he said it, so you assumed the whole ‘power’ thing was probably safe.

Another flash of emerald lit the sky—this strike was larger, louder. Like dozens of branches unfurling from a rotting tree, or clawed fingers digging their way through the clouds. The roar of thunder that followed almost seemed to shake the ground. Stefan frowned up at the black clouds.

“It was already starting to get late anyways, but the weather is really starting to turn, huh?” he hummed and tapped at his chin, pensive. “And I can’t just leave you all the way out here—especially knowing that you’ve got a bum ankle. Hmm…” More tapping. And then his hazel eyes lit up like firebugs. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“A horse?” you repeated, confused.

“Helios,” he smiled, bright as the sun. “He’s my best friend. And, well, also my trusty steed. He’s just over in the contestant’s stables. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving you a lift.”

Riding back into the heart of the Festival on horseback sounded like something that would absolutely give Sebek at least two separate heart attacks. But before you could voice your skepticism, Stefan was rushing off—his crimson cape swirling behind him in the wind.

“I’ll be right back!”

You slouched against a pillar with a sigh, shifting as much of your weight off your ankle as you could manage. You wondered if Malleus had finished his Pre-Festival duties. You wondered if Sebek had realized you’d disappeared yet. Surely even he wasn’t that oblivious. You wondered if he was panicked at all—if not for you, then for his Lord’s inevitable wrath at the misplacement of a favored ‘pet.’

“Well, well. There you are, little one.”

You jolted in surprise and immediately curled back into yourself with a pained hiss. Goddamned ankle—

“Lilia,” you gaped. “Jesus fucking—don’t dothat.”

The Fae shot you a wicked grin from his place floating overhead, angled just-so so that it looked like he was dangling upside-down from the wooden signage across the top of an empty stall. But you knew better. He was bouncing around on his magic and his magic alone.

“How did you end up all the way out here?” Lilia hummed, slipping from his ‘perch’ to land gracefully at your side. His wine-red eyes roved over you from head to toe. It felt like you were being filleted. “And you’ve gone and hurt yourself on top of everything. Goodness,” he sighed, bone-deep and weary. “I was hoping I wasn’t going to have to deal with another one of Malleus’s tantrums this evening. And yet, here you are. Being so careless.” Another sigh, nearly a groan. “What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

“It’s not like it was my fault!” you spluttered, even though it had definitely been your fault.

Lilia gave you a look.

“Either way,” he continued, voice lilted in that indulgent way that reminded you far too much of a parent trying and failing to discipline a wayward child, “let’s get you back before he blows the entire market away.”

Then, Stefan called your name and the fond expression on Lilia’s face immediately flattened into something so pointedly blank it was almost unsettling. Your new friend came trotting forward, a lovely and large silver dun horse at his side. Helios, you assumed. The gigantic beast caught sight of Lilia and slid to a standstill, rearing up with a panicked whinny as he backpedaled. Stefan twisted his hands into the reins and ran a hand along the horse’s neck—shushing and placating the startled animal. After a moment, Stefan managed to calm Helios enough to keep him from bolting, and he turned on Lilia with wide eyes.

“Lord Vanrouge,” Stefan said, angling his head in what you assumed was deference. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.”

“Nor I you,” Lilia hummed, that impassive expression remaining firmly in place. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Prince Stefan? We were informed that you and your family wouldn’t be arriving until the day after next.” A pause. The silence felt louder than anything Lilia had said up to that point. “If at all.”

“Prince?” you choked, turning on the brunette with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Whoops?” Stefan shrugged, looking sheepish. “And I—well… I just wanted to get a look at everything. Beforehand.”

“Of course,” Lilia droned. “Either way. You’ll have to excuse us.” The Fae slide one hand beneath your knees and the other around the small of your back, and hauled you into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. “We have a pressing appointment to keep.”

With that, the world seemed to tilt on its axis as the environment melted together like splotches of watercolor paint all running together at the bottom of a page. You’d never been teleported before. You’d seen Malleus and Lilia pop in and out of existence plenty of times, but being dragged through the fabric of time and space alongside him was jarring, and the journey left you feeling nauseous and loopy all over again.

It took you a moment to realize that the universe had stopped spinning, and that the plush material beneath your palms felt an awful lot like the duvet on the bed in your guestroom. You opened your eyes slowly, cautiously, to see Lilia had placed you neatly by your pillows and had already moved away to start fretting over your swollen ankle instead.

“I never thought I would have to lecture you on the dangers of talking to strangers,” he tutted, though it wasn’t entirely playful.

“I didn’t know he was a Prince,” you complained, wincing when he prodded clinically at your stinging flesh. “I just thought he was, I don’t know, some guy.” You fought and failed the urge to fidget—fingers nervously meshing together in your lap. “…I didn’t cause an international incident or anything, did I…?” You had no idea how any of this royalty stuff worked. But you could put two-and-two together well enough to understand that the personal guest of one crowned prince mowing down a different prince was probably not looked upon very highly.

Lilia leaned forward to pat your head, some of his usual mischief working its way back into his expression.

“Not to worry, Prefect,” he smiled. “I doubt any wars have been declared over your transgressions.”

There was another roar of thunder and the castle itself seemed to tremble. The bay windows lining the wall opposite you were lit entirely in a sharp flash of lime green. Once the wicked brightness of the lightning had faded into something less blinding, you could make out dozens of hairline cracks racing up the glass panes.

Lilia sighed, looking for the first time like someone who was very acutely feeling the weariness of his hundreds upon hundreds of lifespans. “Well, not yet, at least.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[yuurei20]

Jade and Floyd Facts Part 8: the Mountain Lovers Club

Jade is the founder and sole member of the Mountain Lovers Club.

He explains that hiking is not the club’s primary activity (“I’m not all that interested in exercising”).

He goes on leisurely walks through the mountains around the school.

He says the main goal of the club is “to appreciate the mountains’ bounty, while also enjoying its edible plants and mushrooms,” but he is reluctant to describe it as a photography, science or cooking club.

Jade says that one of the club’s most enjoyable activities is foraging for wild plants and mushrooms, but he finds himself wishing he had better techniques and recipes to make the most of what he gathers, which is why he participates in the Culinary Crucible.

In a vignette we learn that Jade goes to the school’s ghost chefs to learn new recipes outside of the Culinary Crucible as well: Ruggie incorporates some of his wild vegetables in a soup for Leona, believing they belonged to the school.

In order to compensate Jade for the stolen ingredients Ruggie teaches him three recipes with which Jade is very pleased, asking Ruggie to teach him a few more (Ruggie: “Lesson two’s gonna cost you.”)

The Mountain Lovers Club also has a photography section as a part of the club’s exhibition for the culture fair, with Jade explaining that while he is sure that it must look mundane to land-dwellers, as a sea-dweller he finds it all fascinating. (In Floyd’s opinion Jade picks the most boring subjects for his photography. Jade reflects, “Maybe that’s why I’m the only member of the club.”)

Despite admitting that he enjoys the mundane as someone who was not born on land, Jade says that while he has heard of wayward merfolk becoming obsessed with the surface, he can’t say that he understands why.

The Mountain Lovers Club counts as an arts club, which means (to Floyd’s annoyance) that Jade did not have to participate in helping to set up stages for the school’s culture fair.

During Vargas Camp, however, Floyd says that Jade “whined nonstop about how the Mountain Lovers Club should totally count as a sports club.”

When asked where he would go if he was able to travel anywhere he wanted by broom, Jade says he would like to visit famous mountains and view places that people are not allowed to hike to on foot to from above.

He says he would like to spend an entire day appreciating the beauty of the scenery through different weather and different times of day, taking photos and sketching.

As a part of his Mountain Lovers Club activities Jade says that he has started doing field sketches and he once became so focused on sketching during a class that everyone left the laboratory without his noticing.

While Jade’s parents seem to encourage his interest in mountains (they gift him with a hiking backpack that he’d asked for on his birthday) Floyd and Azul do not, with Floyd complaining that Jade smells earthy all the time and Azul commiserating with “It can’t be easy having a brother in that weirdo Mountain Lovers Club.”

Jade volunteers to go to Epel’s hometown of Harveston after eavesdropping on his conversation about a sledathon, explaining that he wishes to see the “mystical beauty” that is a local mountain.

Even Epel says that Jade is a mountain expert, and he is able to effortlessly identify plants he sees at a market and list off their scientific names. (Idia: “He’s so obsessed it’s cringey.”)

Jade suggests naming their sled team “the Mountain Lovers Sled Team,” but he is outvoted.

[dustymeadows-if]

Dust particles flow in the air, shimmering with golden light of the sun. They rise to the sky, equally golden and hazy. Your mind is empty. There is no single memory in your head. Only one thought is ringing in your brain.

You must walk forward. Walk until your feet begin to bleed. Walk until your shoes fall apart.

And for some reason you can't oppose this thought.

This is your road to Damascus.

Dusty Meadows is a short interactive story set in post-WW1 world. It's a small psychological adventure that will take you through the scarred European fields. Wander the abandoned trenches, scorched forests, poisonous valleys and silent, deadly no man's land.

You don't remember anything. The feelings, however, still linger. Feelings like pain, grief and bitter longing. Your body is mutilated, but you feel no physical pain. It's your soul that aches. It's as if an important piece of it was heartlessly ripped off. This pain urges you to go forward. The answers might lie just behind the next hill or river. Your life depends on returning. Returning your soul. Returning your memories. Returning your life. Returning home.

That is, if there's anything left for you to return to at all.

Customizable MC: choose your gender, appearance, personality and name (if you can remember it, of course).

Meet the cast of various charachters: you're not the only one wandering and seeking these desolate lands. Talk to other wayfaring souls, listen to their stories. Maybe even share the same road and experience strangely deep bond with some of them...

Return your memories: remove the shroud from your past. Remember how you got here. Remember what hides behind the scars on your body. But be wary: some memories are forgotten for a reason.

Explore different locations: travel through the remains of war, learn what happened there and remember what binds you to these places.

Maintain your sanity: nobody said that battlefields are safe even after the war. Your mind is as scarred as your body, and sometimes memories crash like tidal waves. Whether you'll hold the line or succumb to the dark depths - is up to you and you only.

Tired Infantryman - Basile (M)

This man could be a definition of word "apathy". Everything about him is grey: both literally and figuratively. Dressed in grey-bluish trenchcoat, covered in grey dust, he looks at you with dull grey eyes. Even in his dark brown hair you can see grey strands, although he's still pretty young. He doesn't seem to be interested in anything around him, except for his cigarettes. His left arm is missing, and you can't help but wonder what's the story behind this.

Frozen Operator - Johann (M)

He is... a weird man. Tall and muscular like someone working in the fields all day long. But at the same time his skin is the palest and the coldest you've ever seen, and his eyes are sunken as if he was spending many sleepless nights doing paperwork. He's also the only one without any visible wounds, which is very unusual to see in this place. Johann seems like a kind and outgoing man, but he hides something deep in his heart.

Blind Journalist - Gelsomina (F)

Upper half of her face is covered with bandages, but even so you can tell she's a very beautiful woman. Dark blood stains over the place where her eyes were never seem to fully dry. She is much alike that blood: restless almost to despair. This woman will either find peace or die, and the least seems to be most likely. Losing her eyes was a hard hit: she can't see, she can't write, she can't do her job which had always meant life for her. She lost every reason to live, but the fire of her stubbornness is blazing hard, keeping her alive and eating her from inside at the same time.

Wayward Nun - Jolan (F)

She is a strange sight. Dressed in nun robes which covers her whole body, she also wears a gas mask which she refuses to ever take off. This woman is like a walking fortress of her own, cutting off every direct contact with the outer world. She barely speaks, preferring simple gestures, or rather, not communicating at all. You don't know what she looks like, what she sounds like, but here's one thing you know for sure: guilt is seeping through every crack of her thick defense.

Demo - TBA

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Kakashi x book store reader

2250 words

♦️mentions smut but nothing actually happens

“Hey Kakashi, how was your last mission?” You rest your head in your palm as you lean against the counter. The bookshop was empty except for the white haired avid reader who would always stop in between missions to get some new reading material.

“Uneventful. It was mostly traveling so I was able to finish the last book you recommended.” He bashfully scratched his cheek as he avoided eye contact. “Did any more icha icha books come out yet?.”

“Not yet, but rumor has it he's supposed to be releasing another one soon. When I get one in you'll be the first to know.” You push off the counter and grab a small paper bag from the shelf behind you. Sliding the bag over to Kakashi, he looks interested but doesn't say anything. “In the meantime I think you'll like this book.”

He opened the bag and inspected the small book carefully. There was no description on the back and the cover simply had the title ‘wayward travelers’ printed on the front. Looking inside there wasn't even an ‘about the author’ blurb. “Hmmm? Well this certainly looks mysterious.”

“It's by a new author who hasn't even decided on a pen name yet, but the story itself is pretty good. Try it out and if you don't like it I'll do a full refund.” You say nonchalantly.

“No need for the trouble. You've given good recommendations before and I'm sure this one will be fine too.” You smile as he puts some coins on the counter and heads towards the door. “I'm heading out for my next mission but I'll let you know about the book when I get back.”

You wave as he leaves but once he's out of sight you clutch your chest as soon as the door bell rings shut. Heart thundering like a war drum you struggle to calm your nerves. You gave him the book and you kept a solid poker face while you did it. Everything will be fine, it'll be fine…it has to be. Now all that's left to do is calm your racing anxieties and wait for him to come back.

The next week was worse than torture. Thoughts constantly drifting back to Kakashi and the fear of how he would react to the book. It's far from the first time you have given him smut, actually that's mostly what he reads, but what would he think if he found out you wrote it?! You tried to shake the thought from your head but it kept creeping back into your skull. No, you're sure he didn't see your nervousness when you gave it to him, there's no way he can find out.

Not being able to take the book back was the biggest issue. Would he be able to tell that you were the one who wrote it? What if the writing was bad? What if the kinks you put in he doesn't like! Insecurities clawed at the back of your mind like a beast digging at a cage.

Suddenly, you're dragged out of your thoughts from the bell chiming above the door.

Putting on your best customer service smile you turn and greet whoever came in. “Welcome to the book stop, let me know if you have any questions.” an older woman thanked you and made her way to the back of the store. Before the thoughts of your book could return the bell rang again. You had to swallow the lump in your throat when you saw the handsome silver haired shinobi approaching the counter. “W-welcome back. How was the mission?” You mentally kick yourself for the stutter, but grateful for the recovery.

“It was easy. Honestly it could have been handled by a chunin, I don't know why they sent a full jounin team.” He slips the book from his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “Gave me a good opportunity to read the book though.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Ah, well… what did you think of it?” You tried so hard to maintain a casual air but you struggled to look him in the eye.

“It was pretty good, some scenes could have been worded better, but for a new author I'd say it's good. I definitely enjoyed it.” Something flashed in his eye. The same look a cat might give to a mouse. It made your heart race just a little faster. Your mouth went a little dry and thankfully Kakashi took your silence as a sign to continue. “You know a lot of authors tend to put a bit of themselves into their characters.” He opened the book and started thumbing through the pages. “Makes me curious about the love interest in this book…”

“Oh really?” You had to fight to keep your voice steady. “What about them?”

Even without looking at him you can feel his dark eye sizing you up. “Not much about their personality, but the way they talk is familiar.” he let out a low hum. “It made me think about who the author took inspiration from.”

Kakashi goes into a full analysis about the character's personalities and how that relates to the author's own personality and experience. The more he talked the more sweaty your palms became. You feared if he leaned over the counter than he'd be able to hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest, pounding at your ribs and making it hard to breathe. Despite everything you still did a good job of keeping a cool demeanor. At least you thought you did.

You were only granted a moment of relief from kakashi's author analysis when the old woman who came in before approached the counter to buy a recipe book. He politely stood off to the side watching you work as you put the woman's book in a bag and sent her on her way with a smile and a wave.

When you turn your attention back to Kakashi you can see his cheeks are raised and you can only imagine the Cheshire smile that he has stretched across his lips. How many hours have you fantasized about what they actually look like?

“Y’know as a Shinobi I don't just read books, in fact I'm quite skilled at reading people too. It's always so easy to tell when someone's keeping a secret from me~” His cool relaxed voice turned into something more melodic and teasing. He returns to leaning against the counter, ever so slightly closing the distance between you two.

“And what exactly do you think I'm keeping from you?” You say with an even and cautious tone.

“The author.”

A chill ran up your spine the moment you heard his words. “And why would you think that I'm the author?” the words fell out of your mouth a little more exasperated than you wanted.

“I never said you were.” Your face went pale as you realized you gave yourself away, and in the stupidest way possible.

“Well I'm not.” You try to sound dignified but the slight wave in your voice makes it obvious to him and yourself that you're lying, and doing a poor job at it.

Kakashi lets out a slight chuckle. “It really was a good book. Honestly if I didn't spend so much time talking to you I don't think I would have picked up on the nuances. You write like how you talk, almost like you are telling the story yourself.” He leans over the counter and tilts his head. A look that any under any other circumstances would have been cute but now only makes you feel more vulnerable.

It was getting harder to maintain eye contact with how flustered you'd become. “Okay you figured out it was me. You can go let me die of embarrassment in peace now.” You tried to save what little dignity you felt you had left and buried your face in your hands.

You begrudgingly moved your hands when you heard his siren call of a laugh. “Next time you want to write smut about a ‘hot rogue shinobi’ how about you name him Sukea.”

“Oh, so now you want to write my characters?” you can't help but laugh a little as you return some of his playfulness. Exasperation pushed your embarrassment to the back of your mind temporarily.

“Not at all” He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I just think if I'm going to be the inspiration then I should give you something to work with. Don't you think~” again that look flashes in his eye. Something predatory and mischievous at the same time. A single look that's enough to send goosebumps across your skin.

“What did you have in mind?” Again under his gaze your confidence wavered. He didn't seem to mind though as he started walking around the counter, slowly creeping up on you.

“hmmm~ How about a weary shinobi returns from his long, hard mission… finally back in the comfort of his village he finds the one person he's had his eye on for years but still hasn't said anything to them. Nothing romantic at least.” Slowly he keeps moving forward until he's practically on top of you. One more step and you step back, your back pressed against the wall. “Eventually, our hero works up the courage to ask his favorite shop keep to go to a public hot spring with him. Somewhere he can relax after his mission.” Your bodies are now pressed against each other. You can feel his body heat radiating off of him. You're actually close enough to see the smallest tint of pink dusting his cheeks right above his mask. “But of course we need a plot twist. The bath house is full so there's nothing else to do but get a private bath just for the two of them.” His hands made their way to your waist and slid back to barely ghost over your ass before going to rest just above your thighs. A light squeeze before his hands explore just a little more.

You are so caught up in the moment that you never realized how much faster your heartbeat was, how ragged your breathing had become, or how you simply stared at his eye, totally mesmerized by his words.

Your heart leaps into your throat as the doorbell chimed again. Quickly you turn to see who came in and two young boys noisily made their way to the comic section without giving you a second glance. Your head whips back to look at Kakashi only to see that he's gone.

In the blink of an eye Kakashi was back on the customer side of the counter and the book you wrote laid on the floor where he was just standing. Finally, without the presence of Kakashi's body heat against you, you became painfully aware of just how hot your face was. You were met with a masked shinobi giving you what you assume is a closed eye smile, and he looked just as cool and composed as he always did. Fuck, your heart was ready to bust out of your chest.

“How does that sound for inspiration?” His smooth voice brought you right back to the butterflies in your stomach. What you wouldn't give to go back in time and lock the door before anybody could come in and disturb you. “Maybe you'd like some real experience for reference?” His voice was a little less teasing then his expression showed. Perhaps this was actually a genuine question from him.

It took only a moment for you to find your voice again. “I close the shop at 7.”

Kakashi sat up a little straighter. “Great! I'll meet you outside at 7:30 then.”

“Sounds like a date?” the statement came out more like a question and you intended, but you were just glad that your voice didn't crack. Hope was not something you were used to, especially not in the romance department.

“It sure does~” Your chest suddenly felt lighter, a huge weight being lifted from your shoulders. He pushed himself off the counter and headed towards the door. “See ya later.”

Just as he reached for the doorknob he stopped in his tracks. “Oh, I don't like writing in books, but I left a few notes for the ‘author’. Take a look when you get a chance.” and with that he was gone. The door chimed behind him and you were left alone with your thoughts again.

Finally your body catches up with your brain. You bend down to pick up the book he left behind. Your book. The simple object that started this whole wonderful mess. Once opened your eyes widened on just how many little notes were wedged between the pages. Quotes transcribed with little faces next to them. His opinions on different scenes that you wrote, things he thought were cute or funny. Once again he managed to make your face go bright red when you got halfway through the notes and he described in glorious detail exactly how the sex scenes made him feel. Some of the notes you could tell the penmanship was shaky. A small detail that gave you a bit of a deeper glimpse into how he was feeling. A small detail that made your heart race a little faster.

Perhaps your favorite note that he left was the one that simply said ‘I would love to try this with you, if you'd let me.’.

[darkwolf989]

Outside The Office Part Eighteen

Hi All,

Trigger warning for Valentino being himself, and mature content. Please leave a comment if you would like part nineteen to be a continuation of the last line OR skip ahead to the next part of the actual story!

As always, comments, feedback and suggestions are welcome!

Enjoy!

Friday night. For the past three weeks, Friday night would mean another night of soul collecting. Another night of traveling to Earth to convince wayward sinners to have a soft landing. The exhaustion that came with balancing the weight from the power of each new soul, the emotional toll of seeing former humans die, combined with managing the logic and power aspect left me tossing and turning at night. And so, with a kiss on the forehead, Valentino told me I was due for a break. A night of fun, no additional responsibilities required. 

The man knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. With each passing day, our relationship grew into something that left him as comfortable with me as I was with him. Despite the rough introduction, the more time I spent with him at the studio, whispering back and forth items of interest, the more fun our bedroom activities became. And it wasn’t just the kinks and positions that kept me close to his side. The more I got to know the staff, and Angel Dust in particular, the more I enjoyed spending time in the second director's chair. While it didn’t excuse my other responsibilities, or keep me captive twenty four seven, it was another activity to keep my day varied and interesting. 

I studied myself in the mirror and added a brush of blush. The more I frequented the studio, the more questions I had- questions Valentino implored me to ask. Something he had mentioned off hand a while ago still bugged me, and after the scene I had seen today, I wanted to know. 

“Hey Val?” I asked.

“Yes, mi amore?” 

“You said something a while ago that I didn’t quite understand. I was wondering if you could elaborate?” I watched his reaction in my mirror and wasn’t disappointed. One thing I had come to learn was that Valentino loved it when I asked questions and loved giving hands on demonstrations even more. 

“Mmm, what did I say, love? Ask away.” 

“You said…that if someone was acting up, you put something inside them to get them to behave. What does that mean?”

I didn’t think his grin could get any wider. He strode across the room and put both hands on my shoulders. He leaned down and hovered his lips next to my ear. Not for the first time that day, I felt my pulse quicken. 

“Oh my princessa. This is one of those things that bears a more…hands on explanation,” he whispered softly. “Allow me to show you my favorite meaning of the phrase.” 

He took my hand and pulled me out of the chair onto the bed. He laid me down so my upper body rested on the mattress and my legs dangled. Somewhere in that transition, my shorts vanished, leaving my lower half exposed to him. I heard our bedside drawer open and the light scent of strawberries filled the room. 

“Let me know if this hurts, mi amore,” he drawled as he slowly slid two fingers into me. “I can add more lube if need be.”

I arched my back and his thumb ran across my clit. I arched my back and let out a moan as the blissful feeling overtook me. So close, I was already so close…

He pulled out and I let out a groan. 

“Valentino! Come on,” I whined. “No fair!”

“Be patient, princessa,” he scolded lightly. “Relax for me.” I felt the weight of his hand rest on my stomach. “Let me know if this is too much.”

I craned my neck up to try to look but fell back and gasped as I I felt something slide deep inside of me.. Somewhere in my belly, I felt a reverberating pop. 

“V-val what was that?” 

He didn’t answer right away, and instead I could feel his tongue against my body, and felt his mouth on my clit. The thought vanished, my body ached for that release. I arched my back, certain he would let me come now. 

“Maybe I didn’t need to use as much lube,” he commented as he pulled away with seconds to go. 

I groaned and reached to grab his hand. He gave me a smile and leaned over, pressing his lips against mine. 

“You asked for an explanation, my princessa. I’m giving you one. Now sit up slowly, tell me how you feel.” His body moved behind mine and he helped me sit up, my back pressed against his chest. “That’s my good girl. Now, on your feet.” He got off the bed and offered me his hand. 

I accepted it and as I stood I could feel weight, something shifted inside me. I leaned forward into Valentino and laid my head on his chest. 

“Val, I….”

“Does it feel alright?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist as he kissed my neck. “I haven’t even shown you the best part.”

I heard a click and felt the weight buzz deep in my belly. If Valentino hadn’t been holding me up, I would have been on my knees. His hand fell to my stomach and he smirked as he gave me another kiss. Another click and the buzzing ceased, leaving behind nothing but the feeling of heaviness and desperation deep inside me. 

“Keep it in you, my love, for as long as you can.” He kissed down my neck and nipped ever so gently, “I want to see how long you can last.” 

“Val, we’re leaving.” I panted. Under my head, I could hear the steady beating of his heart. “Unless we’re not?” 

He laughed as he held me. “Oh, no, princessa. Our plans have not changed.”

“But…”

He heard the nervousness in my voice and his expression softened. He cupped my chin and guided me to his gaze. 

“Princessa, it's made to stay in you- for a while anyway.” From his pocket, he pulled out a small pink remote. “I control when and how much it vibrates, and my love, I can take it out at any moment. Right now, if you really want me to.” He leaned in closer, “but I think you’ll enjoy surrendering control to me. At least, for tonight.” 

“Promise you’ll take it out if I ask? No matter what?” I pleaded. 

“Of course princessa. All you have to do is say our safe word,” he reassured me. He guided my head back to his chest and held me there. “I would never force you to do something you weren't comfortable with.” 

I hesitated. I trusted and believed him, he had never given me a reason not to.

 “Can you…can you at least give me a warning when you turn it on?” I asked finally. 

He chuckled but bent down and kissed me. “Oh princessa. The surprise is half the fun. But for your first night out, of course. If that will make you feel more comfortable.” He pressed his hand against my lower belly where I was almost sure the toy was resting.

 A click. My knees buckled against the feeling of the vibration. He held me steady against him and I felt his lips against the top of my head. 

“Mmm. I love watching you fall to your knees at my command,” he nuzzled me. “I’ll put my hand right here before I turn it on. It's discreet and silent. Is that fair, my princessa?” 

I managed to nod and buried my face in his neck as he clicked the button, the vibration ceasing instantly. He kissed me again and took my hand as he led me out the door. 

In the limo with Vox and Vel, I sat next to Valentino, trying to ignore the feeling of the toy shifting inside of me with each bump in the road. Val moved closer to me and his hand found  my lower belly.

I gasped and curled into him as the buzzing exploded inside of me. My head fell to his lap and he stroked my hair for a moment before I heard the click again. I looked up at him, the euphoria and denial wrecking havoc through me. I reached for him and he pulled me on his lap and tucked my head under his chin, his arms wrapped around me. 

“The fuck you do to her?” Velvette demanded. 

“Trying something new.” He ran his hand down my back and looked at them both, his tone shifting to something much more serious.“Telling you both so if the princessa needs me…” he glanced down at me. “Or if she doesn’t look right, come find me. At any time.” 

“Damn,” Vox grinned. “Really embracing the slutty side of hell, aren’t we?”

“Good for you sweetheart.” Velvette added as she leaned back. 

We arrived at the club and Valentino interlaced his hand with mine, tugging me across the dance floor. Several drinks later, I was leaning on him as he chatted with several demons.

“So like I was saying, don’t take no for an answer. I certainly don’t.” I felt his hand slide under my shirt and rest on my stomach. 

Fuck, Val. 

I bit my lip as the toy exploded inside me, trying my hardest to keep a straight face. He continued his conversation as if I wasn’t about to come right there next to him. After a few moments, the demons walked away and I heard the familiar click as the buzzing ceased.

“Mmm, you’re getting better at hiding it princess.” He leaned into me, “come, dance with me before I have to go meet with these fuckers.” 

He took my hand and led me out to the dance floor. We spun around, music loud and flashing lights, his body pressed into mine.

“You’re my favorite toy,” he whispered amongst the chaos, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me into him. He guided my head to his chest and his hand went to my belly. “Prepare yourself princessa.”

I would have fallen to my knees if Val hadn’t been supporting my full weight. The explosion of buzzing combined with the movement of the dance floor and the last shot of tequila proved to be too much.

“Oh my princessa…wait, are you crying?” 

He grabbed my chin and scanned me with worried eyes.

“Too…too much.” I begged against him. The button clicked. “Please take it out. Not here, not in front of everyone! Please Val..” 

He wrapped his arm around me and lifted me up. For the first time since I had entered the club scene, he led me towards the back. He pushed open a door, labeled with his name. He set me on the desk and turned away.  I looked up and tried to wipe away my tears. 

“Too much, mi amore?” He asked gently, handing me a tissue. “You lasted longer than I expected.” He stroked my hair and held me to his chest.  “I can take it out, princessa. No one will see you here.” 

I bit my lip and he waited for me to give him the go ahead. Slowly l, I nodded. 

“Alright, princessa, lay back.” He instructed, guiding me down on the desk. With one hand he unbuckled my jeans and with the other, he pressed on my belly. 

“I’m going to turn it on the lowest setting, princessa. Take a deep breath.” 

The gentle buzzing sensation began and I bit back a moan. Even as overstimulated as I was, the sensation had me dripping. His hand settled on a spot on my stomach and I felt his fingers slide into me.

“Good girl, now push for me.”

“Push?”

He pressed down on my belly and I felt the vibration drop. “Yes princessa, like you’re trying to push a baby out. Bear down and push for me.” 

I bit my lip and contracted my muscles. I felt his fingers curl inside me. A second later the buzzing stopped and I took a shaky breath.

“Good girl,” he said, standing up and holding the pink toy with his name scrawled in red across the entirety of it. He opened the desk drawer and tossed it and the remote in. I sat up and looked at Valentino, holding back a squirm. My body, even with the relief, still felt unsatisfied. 

Our eyes met and he leaned forward and kissed me, pushing me down on the desk as he did so. His hands settled on my hips and I felt the tip of his cock slide into me. 

“Ah! Valentino” I moaned. “Please, Valentino. Please let me come!” 

His hips moved faster, the metal of his bet buckle crashing against my hip with every thrust. The pain, the denial and all too soon the feeling of release washed over me, rendering me helpless under him. 

“Valentino!” I moaned.

I felt his cock explode deep in my belly and he sank his teeth just below my collarbone. The pain and the pleasure of him spasming deep inside of me put me over the edge once more.  

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered as he slowly pulled out. “That’s the first time you’ve taken all of me.” 

I panted. My legs felt like jello- and my entire lower body felt sore and achy. He kissed my stomach as he did up his belt, his eyes watching my every moment. 

“Need a moment, mi amore? I have things to do in here. You could join me.” 

I felt his hands redress me and he lifted me into his arms, cradling me as he sat down in his office chair. He pushed me up and back by my shoulders as he carefully examined my body.  His fingers lightly traced under my collarbone and I winced. 

“Mm, I left a mark. I’m sorry, mi amore.” He leaned in and gently kissed the bite. He wrapped me in his jacket and looked at me with concern. “I don’t like causing you pain.” 

I laid my head on his chest as he held me to him. 

“Val, you don’t like causing me pain, but…the rule doesn’t apply to everyone.”

“It does not apply to my job, you are correct my love.” He kissed the top of my head. “But no, I very much do not like to hurt you. Ever, my dear.” He shifted me in his arms and reached over to grab a pen. He scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

We sat in silence for a few moments as he wrote. I laid my head on his shoulder.

“Val, can I ask a question?”

“Anything, love.”

“That toy you used on me, is that the only thing you use to keep your employees in line?”

“No, love.” He responded shortly. 

I waited for him to elaborate and he didn’t.

“What else do you use?” I asked.

He paused and set his pen down, reached over and cupped my chin. Our eyes met and I let out a shiver. Work Valentino was scary. 

“That, my princessa is nothing you need to worry about. I will never intentionally cause you pain.” He planted another kiss on my forehead and then tugged the jacket around me until I was almost completely hidden. “Rest, princessa, close your eyes. I have people coming in. You can stay right where you are just keep quiet.” 

I settled into his arms and I heard the door open. Harsh words, a far cry from the softness he showed me, filled the room. After a few moments, Valentino shifted me to the side of the chair stood up. I opened my eyes just ever so slightly and I saw Valentino glance at me with a dark look.  I turned away until I couldn’t feel his eyes on me. Carefully, I shifted myself just in time to see him grab the demon by the neck and slam him into the wall. 

“I have killed bitches for less than the attitude you’re giving me.” He growled lowly. 

 The demon whimpered, and Valentino dropped him. Red chains appeared on the demon's neck and wrist. 

“Don’t you forget. I own you.” Valentino growled. He yanked on the chains until the demon fell to his knees in front of him. “You work for me, and no one else.” 

“Yes, Valentino. I’m sorry, Valentino.” The demon whispered. 

“Oh, are you?” He growled, pulling the demon upright.

I saw the glint of Valentino’s gun and my stomach dropped. No, Val. No! The words, supposed to remain as a thought echoed across the room. 

Silence. For a heartbeat. 

Valentino slowly turned to me, eyes blazing. “What did you just say, princessa?” 

I swallowed as he tossed the demon to the side and strode over to me. He grabbed my arm and yanked me up, marching me over to where the demon lay, crying. 

“Do you think this thing deserves mercy?” He asked lowly. 

“Everyone deserves mercy.” I pleaded. “It’s why we do what we do, Val.”

“Wrong! We collect souls for power!” Valentino snarled. He gripped my arm with a force I hadn’t yet felt from him. 

“Val! That hurts!” I tried to yank away from him, panic coursing through me. 

Valentino ignored my words and tightened his grip. “I was only going to rough him up. Remind him who owned him. But princessa, you made the decision for him. Mercy? That isn’t something I give.” 

I saw the flash of the hilt of his gun and the demon crumpled to the floor, a crimson puddle trickling out from under his head. 

Valentino pushed me back and stepped in front of the demon, his eyes blazing red. “Do not ever get in the way of my work again,” he said sharply. “It will never end the way you want it to.” 

I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat. And then anger. I reached out to grab Valentino the way he had grabbed the demon and his hand caught mine, pushing back. 

“Do you know why I killed this man?” He continued, his voice ever so slightly calmer. 

I didn’t and in the moment, I didn’t care.I tried to muster up the same energy that I had been practicing so hard to control but I couldn’t. Valentino pushed me back. I felt myself slide, my strength wavering.

“This demon, this thing committed atrocities so evil it would break your sweet little heart,” he continued. “So no, I will not have mercy. I will not reward him for the crimes he committed. And I will most certainly not take orders from someone who truly has no idea how hell works.” 

I gasped as he shoved me against the wall. He pinned my arms above my head and leaned in close.  

“You don’t get it. We keep you safe. You have power, yes. But not enough princessa. Not yet. And until that time comes you will not upset the power dynamic we have worked so hard to create. The power dynamic that is the only goddamn reason you are not dead- or worse. Because believe me princessa, down here there are much, much worse things than being dead.” 

He released me and I turned, reaching for the door that would let me out. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back, turning me around and grabbing me by the wrist.

“You think you can survive on your own? You can’t. You wouldn’t make it five minutes before someone grabbed you and turned you into something you no longer recognize. Lucifer is the single most powerful being in this realm and even he cannot keep you safe. The second you

take a misstep, the second you walk out that door without a bodyguard- princessa you are worse off than dead.” 

He stepped closer to me and I could smell the scent of smoke wrapping around me. “I will be damned if I let that happen. Lucifer’s punishment would be vacation compared to….” 

His voice drifted off and I tried to twist my wrist out of his grasp. 

“Compared to what, Valentino? Fucking say it.” I shot back. 

“Compared to the guilt that would haunt me for all of eternity.” His eyes met mine in stony silence. 

I didn’t answer and he dropped my wrists before taking a step back. “It’s time to go home,” he snatched his jacket off the chair and took me by the wrist again, this time the opposite. “You will stay next to me.” 

Unable to disobey, I followed him back out to his VIP booth. Both Vox and Velvette were sprawled out, sipping on drinks. One look at Valentino and they both set their drinks down and followed us out. 

“In the car.” Valentino growled, pushing me inside. 

“Woah, hey, Val what gives?” Vox asked. “Did she start a fight again?”

Valentino didn’t respond and in the limo, I inched myself away from him. I took my phone out of my pocket, seeing I had three missed texts from Lucifer. 

You did not.

God damn it, reader.

And finally

You got lucky. 

My stomach sank. In the darkness I could see the formation of a handprint shaped bruise on my wrists. As fast as Valentino was texting, I began with the same urgency. A quick explanation of the events and then 

Lucifer, I didn’t do anything wrong. I tried to save a soul. 

He replied back instantly. 

By heaven's standards you’re right. You didn’t. By hell's standards? You fucked up, big time.

You want to explain how? Come get me, I don’t want to be here anymore. 

No, I will not come and get you because your feelings are hurt. Do not ever, under any circumstances, come between a demon and a soul they own. You might think you know what’s right and wrong and I assure you things work differently down here. Didn’t we already go through this when contracts were explained to you? He fulfills his end of the bargain and tonight he did just that. 

But Uncle Lucy, Valentino actually bruised me. Like left a mark!

Better bruised than dead. 

I closed out of my phone, the gravity of what Lucifer told me sinking in. I understood soul contracts, but I didn’t understand what I did that was so wrong. My phone pinged again, another text from Lucifer.

And reader? I watched the footage. I know exactly how it went down. I stand by what I said.

The limo slowed to a stop. I shoved my phone in my pocket and when I went to get up, Valentino shook his head and pushed past me.

“You come out after me.” 

I let out a gasp of pain as his fingers brushed the bruising on my wrist. Wordlessly, he shifted his grip upwards and pulled me towards the door. Once inside, he looked at me. His expression was one of frustration, anger and…sadness? He looked away as quickly as our eyes met. 

Vox stepped in between us and put his hand on Valentino’s shoulder. “Val. You go up first, we’ll catch the next one.” 

“Hold onto her,” Valentino growled. He pushed me into Vox and stared at him until his hand rested on my forearm. Without another word, Valentino stepped in the elevator and the door closed. I turned to Vox and Velvette. 

“The fuck did I do that was so bad? Why is his behavior okay right now?” 

“Because you stepped in between someone who owns a soul, and the soul itself.” Vox answered tiredly as he released my arm. “And it’s not like you actually knew any better. This whole thing could have been avoided if Valentino had kept you out of the room. He let his business mix with his private life and he very nearly paid the price for it.” 

“I don’t understand,” I responded. 

“Let’s step back a second. Remember, if a soul has an owner, the soul is required to fulfill the terms of its contact. The owner has a requirement to complete the terms as much as the soul does. In this case, knowing what I know, mercilessly keeping that soul in line was part of this specific contract.” Velvette explained. 

“I should add that is a typical part of most, if not all, soul contracts in hell. We are not here to be kind, merciful, forgiving. Souls are here for a reason. We carry out that punishment.” Vox continued. “If Valentino had shown mercy at your plead, Val wouldn’t be upholding that part of the contract and his rule over the souls in hell would begin to crumble. And that isn’t something we can afford to do. It’s the combined power of the three of us that makes this place so safe for you. Valentino won’t risk his power or I think, more importantly to him these days, your life. 

“Valentino won’t risk your life, ever. And I’m sure it doesn’t help that he had to end one of his highest earners,” Velvette finished. She tucked her phone into her pocket. “He’ll get over that part,  but that look on his face. The guilt and anger? He’s upset more at those bruises on you than he is at his work. Only ever seen him look like that the one time he accidentally hurt, well, us. Wrong place, wrong time- not that unlike your situation. His behavior was identical- right down to the self destruction I’m sure he’s indulging in right now.”

“Self destruction?” I asked. 

Velvette shrugged. “It’s Val. Did you not see the pills he washed down with the bottle of vodka in the limo? Or were you too busy bitching and moaning to your uncle about bruises that will be gone by tomorrow?” 

I didn’t answer. The door opened and the three of us parted ways silently. I watched them both go to their rooms, then crept down the hallway to Valentino’s room.

“Val?” I called.

Silence answered. I knocked on the door and slowly pushed it open. The room was empty. 

“Might check his studio, if you’re going to look for him.” Vox’s voice came from the security camera behind me. 

I jumped and turned around to face the corner. 

“Just be careful, he tends to throw things when he’s like this.��� Vox added. 

I made my way to the elevator and hit the button for the third floor. I waited until the door opened and listened as carefully as I could as I stepped out. It didn’t take long for me to piece together the yelling and the pounding that he was in his office. I considered my options. I could break the door down. Or I could try a gentler option. Either way, I wasn’t about to leave him by himself. 

“Val?” I asked softly, knocking on the door. “Val, it’s Reader. Let me in.” 

I heard a yell, and the sound of glass breaking. And then, the door unlocked. I took that as a sign to let myself in. 

Valentino sat behind his desk, glass of dark amber in his hand. His signature heart shaped glasses were cast carelessly on the desk and his head was in his hand. 

“What are you doing here, princessa?” He asked without looking up. “It’s late. You should be in bed.”

“So should you,” I replied, stepping over the shattered remains of a glass. “But you’re not, so I came to check on you?”

He chuckled darkly and took a drink from the glass. “And princessa, why would you do such a thing?” 

“Because I love you?” I replied as I walked closer. I leaned against the desk and reached for his hand.

He shook his head, but allowed me to keep my hand on his. “Love doesn’t cause pain like what I did to you,  Reader. The bite mark I left is one thing, the bruises on your wrists are an entire other. We live in two different worlds, and tonight, you got hurt. Because of mine. Because of what I do.” 

“I don’t care.” I stepped closer and took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk. Slowly, I guided his head to me. I felt his weight sink into my body as he exhaled. His vulnerability wasn’t unrecognized by me. I ran my hand down his back in a way I hoped was comforting. “I did the wrong thing tonight. I fucked up. It’s my fault, Valentino. Not yours. I have…I have a lot to learn. And I’m sorry I put you in such a position.” 

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Princessa….”

My hand paused against his back and I pressed him into me. “No, Val. This one is on me. You told me not to look. You trusted I would follow orders and I didn’t. And I’m sorry. Yeah, it sucks that you left a bruise but…also, the consequence would have been worse. Right?” 

He was quiet for a moment and then pushed himself up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since this all began. 

“Let me see how badly I hurt you,” he said simply, taking my wrists in his hands. He traced the blue purple splotches and shook his head. “Princessa, your mistake did not earn you this pain.”

“My mistake caused you pain. Vox said you shot your highest earner, not to mention the actual act of shooting is…well…”

“Part of the job, princessa. And the money will be made back.” He stood up and pulled me to him. “I do not want to hurt you. I am afraid of hurting you. I am furious at myself that I did hurt you and  I have never, not once, felt this way about anyone else.” 

I laid my head on his chest. “The pain of seeing you fall because of me would have been a billion times worse.” 

He ran a hand through my hair. In his arms, I could hear his breathing even out and his heartbeat slow down. 

“Come to bed with me, please Val.” I begged as he held me tighter. “Please.” I interlaced my fingers with his and gently tugged him towards the elevator. In the light I could see the redness of his eyes. I thought back to my own high and wondered what was in his system that would cause such a reaction. 

Once back in the bedroom, I guided him to the bed. “Val, let me.”

He smiled but let me undress him. “Princessa, I can manage. Why don’t you run a warm shower for us?”

I did as he requested and he followed me into the bathroom a few moments later. I heard him exhale as he took my hand. His eyes, still rimmed in red and his skin was almost pale. I pulled him into the shower with me and began to massage soap into his back. He leaned forward against the bathroom wall and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Val, you don’t look so good.” I said softly. 

“Princessa, I am fine. Just…coming down from a high.” The tiredness in his voice was evident.  He cupped my chin and leaned in for a kiss. His hands fell to my waist and somehow, I ended up against the wall. I closed my eyes, fighting the fire in my belly to fuck him right then and there. 

“Tomorrow, Val.” I said when I broke away from his kiss. “When you feel better.”

“Princessa, I feel fine.” He said lightly, his hands finding my chest. 

“Until I’m convinced you won’t die under me, it doesn’t.” I replied, taking his hands in mine. “What did you take?” 

He stared at me in confusion and then frowned. “Ah. Shit you know?”

“Vox told me. Drugs combined with the alcohol…Valentino what is so funny?!” 

He laughed harder and pulled me to him. “Princessa, I love you.” 

He paused and I could see what looked like worry cross his face.  I took his hand. “I love you too Val. Which is why I’m putting you to bed.” I turned the water off and carefully walked out of the shower. 

He looked amused as I wrapped him in a towel. I dried myself off quickly and pulled on my pajamas, and then turned to him.

“Arms up, Val.” I stood on my tiptoes. 

He looked down at me and grinned. “Sweetheart, I got it.” He took the pajamas from my hands and used both the counter and me for balance. 

I took his hand and pulled him into the bed. Once we were settled, I laid on his chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat, half convinced whatever was in his system would shut it off. 

“Princessa, you are tense. Why?” He asked softly. 

I didn’t answer him and he sat up. I followed his chest with my head and he reached down to cup my chin. 

“Look at me. What is the matter? I’m in bed with you. You’re safe.” He ran a hand through my hair. “Why are you pressed against me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.”

“I don’t want your heart to stop. Vel said you mixed drugs and…”

“No, mi amore. Overlords cannot die of an overdose. Especially not when that is their domain. In fact, most down here cannot die of such a simple thing. You, princessa, are the exception to that rule.” 

I didn’t reply. He sighed. “Princessa, how can I make you feel better?” 

“Let me listen to your heart.” I moved towards his chest.

He sighed but wrapped me in his arms. “I have a better idea.” He reached over and opened the bedside drawer, coming up with a stethoscope. He handed it to me. “Here, use this and listen for as long as it takes to convince you my heart isn’t in danger of stopping.” 

I complied and put the device in my ears. He leaned back against the pillows, allowing me to press the disc to his chest. Patiently, he waited until I pulled away, satisfied. 

“Feel better, princessa?” He asked, taking the device out of my hands.

I nodded and laid my head back down against him.  “Why do you have that anyway?” 

“Sweetheart, there is a kink for that.” 

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied n0n/c0n, imprisonment, and unhealthy relationships.

Cloud Retainer does not often visit you in her human form.

Or, the form she so generously modeled after her human peers, rather. She loathes it when you refer to her by such demeaning terms, when you suggest that she might be at all comparable to mortal beings who wouldn't know true adeptal power from a charmed talisman or the cursed remanents of some dead, grudge-holding god. Sometimes, when you're feeling brave, you attempt to remind her that she thought highly enough of mortals to take one as a lover, but she's never cared for that. As it turns out, immortality may make you wise, but does very little to nourish your sense of humor.

It hasn't made her very affectionate, either, as grateful as you are for her aloofness. When she does find her way to the abode she's imprisoned you inside of, to the vat of amber where she keeps you untouched and unaging, she often presents herself as she does to wayward travelers and wandering pilgrims - with feathers and talons, wings and eyes the color of the unblemished sky.

She brings you gifts, mechanisms of her own creation and jewelry brought back from the harbor, and she stays for hours, sometimes days, telling you of Liyue and her disciples and holding you underneath an extended wing - playing house until she's forced to leave your side once again. Those are the times you find yourself the most comfortable with her, when you know she wants nothing save for your company. Even that, you'd rather withhold, but it's not as if she's ever given you much of a choice.

It's not as if she's any more bearable, when she comes expecting more. When she arrives on two legs, with skin rather than feathers, with arms instead of wings - those are visits you've truly come to dread. Her touch is caring, but cruel, her nails prone to burrowing into your skin as she dotes on you, her teeth likely to flash from beneath soft lips as she presses delicate kisses into your neck - trying her hand at mortal shows of adoration. She rarely has any interest in talking, and it isn't a question of how long she'll stay, but of what state you'll be in when she does, of whether or not you'll be able to put yourself together again by the time she comes to see you next. Of how much blood will be left on your sheets by the time she has her fill of your--

Cloud Retainer does not often visit you in her human form.

It's all you can do to be thankful that she's overcome by mortal weakness so rarely.

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-nineteen

credit to whoever made the gif. found on google/pintrest.

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: So I think I have an idea for a new mob!bucky barnes story. I might post the summary of it and if it sounds interesting to you all, I'll start it! There are probably a few chapters left of this one, just trying to decide on how to end it. Happy or sad. Who knows!

Tags(closed): @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @capsgrantrogersclqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85 @savannahcole99 @evanstanhoney @sebastianstansqueen @portrait-ninja @honeyglee @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @lilya-petrichor @valsworldofcreativity @buckycallsmeaslut @romanoffjohansson @themayzittcha @sapphiredreamer26 @buckybarnessimpp @itjustkindahappenedreally @mavrellover91 @esoltis280 @playboystark @legendarytrashcopeclipse @pansexual-4-all @elizacusi-blog @dnc331 @tee-swizzle @lovsalpkn @yourfavunsub @madebylilly @cerberusmybeloved @lclove2012-blog @onelmstreetett @tesseract69 @monique2281 @wayward-gypsy @wholesomewhorelol @ozwriterchick @pono-pura-vida @bogwaterswamp @s0urw00lf @daydreaming-mood @maggiemae5 @big-heart-ninjasblog @alexa4040 @screaming-les-bean @loustan90 @buckys2lut​ @marnle @pattiemac1

Arranged Masterlist

The sound of gunfire echoed in my ears, loudly, and the gun clattered to the ground below. My eyes were wide with shock and despair at what had just happened. There was an intense pain shooting through my heart all the way down to my stomach as I looked at Bucky, who matched my own expression. 

“Doll?” His voice shook, tears filling his eyes. 

I blinked and tried to speak but failed. Words felt so foreign as I tried to say something, anything. 

Bucky’s gaze traveled low as he tried to understand what happened. Time seemed to have slowed down when, with shaky hands, I pressed them against my stomach. The warm liquid seeped through my fingers and when I pulled them away, I choked out a sob when I saw them covered in something dark red. 

Blood. 

The new hole in my stomach poured out blood as I locked eyes with Bucky, fear on my face. 

“Bucky?” My voice cracked. 

I collapsed in front of him and with quick hands, he had them wrapped around me in order to stop me from hitting the ground. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got you,” he cooed while setting me down gently. 

He applied tight pressure to the bullet wound on my stomach and I hissed out in pain. 

“What happened?” 

I tried to talk but even that simple action caused a pain to shoot through the entirety of my stomach. As I looked up at Bucky, I noticed his eyes well up with tears and guilt filled me with what I was seconds away from doing. 

“I wasn’t-.” 

A painful cry erupted from my throat when Bucky pressed down harder on my stomach in hopes to stop me from losing more blood than I already had. 

“Just breathe, try not to talk.” Bucky said. 

My eyes squeezed shut and did what he ordered me to do; deep breath in, shaky breath out. I did this a few times hoping it would ease my rising fear of dying that filled me. 

Suddenly, Bucky was knocked away from me, John straddling him. He began laying his fists into Bucky’s face, who was unable to protect himself because he had been caught off guard. 

“Fuck!” I cursed as I tried to sit up in order to help Bucky. 

Anytime I tried to move, more blood would pool into my hands so in defeat, I leaned up against the wall and watched with broken gaze as John continued to lay fist after fist into Bucky’s face. 

That was until Bucky wrapped his legs around John’s waist, rolling him onto his back and now Bucky had the upper hand, slamming his vibranium fist into John’s face, stomach, neck, anywhere he could. 

I pulled my hand away and grimaced at how stained it was, the smell of copper filling my senses, and I silently prayed with closed eyes to whatever Gods would listen to not die. 

“She’s so in love with you that she couldn’t even shoot you. Even after all of the lies you told her.” 

Through lidded eyes, I noticed John was laying on the ground, broken, and Bucky was standing over him. The gun in his hand grabbed my attention right away. 

“So you fucking shoot her?” Bucky seethed, laying a bone cracking punch to his cheek.

John spat out some blood. “The serum will heal her soon, you know that.” 

The serum.

Even with the rage I felt for being injected with it, I was somewhat thankful for it at this moment knowing that I wasn’t going to die. 

Right?

Bucky cocked the gun. “What gave you the right to inject her with it? She didn’t want it!” 

“I think we both know that you were going to do it to her anyway. I simply rushed the process,” John chuckled. 

My heart slammed in my chest at John’s words and as Bucky locked his gaze with my own, he rapidly shook his head. 

“That was never going to happen, Y/N.” 

I licked my dry lips and rested my head against the wall, the pain of being shot almost doubled, not letting up anytime soon. My entire body throbbed in tangent with my heart, I could hear the beat of it in my ears. 

“I don’t care anymore,” I breathed. 

Bucky moved his attention back to John and with a swift kick to his stomach, John choked on his own blood. The gun was pressed hard into the side of his skull, Bucky leaning on his knees. 

“Bucky,” I choked. 

He ignored me, almost as if he knew what I was going to say. 

With a deep breath, I put more pressure on my wound while getting to my knees, then my feet. I stumbled a little, becoming a bit lightheaded, but reached for Bucky. 

“Bucky,” I repeated. “Give me the gun.” 

The gun shook in his hand as his bottom lip trembled with hatred the longer he started at John, not pulling the trigger. He shook his head, refusing my request. 

“He deserves to die, Y/N.” 

I nodded. “I know. But I want to be the one to pull the trigger.” 

Bucky took his eyes off of John and shook his head towards me. “No!” 

His face had been cut and bloody from his fight with John but I could see the way it broke at the mere image of me killing someone. 

Tears fell from my eyes and with one hand on my wound, I extended the other one towards him. “Please. I need to do this.” 

He wanted to fight with me on this but in the end he knew that I wouldn’t stop until I got what I wanted; and that was John dead. 

With a soft sigh, Bucky reluctantly placed the gun in my hand. 

“You won’t be able to do it, Y/N. It’s not who you are,” John said while kneeling in front of me. “You’re not a killer.” 

I chuckled dryly with a darkness I never felt before filled my veins. I chalked it up to the serum.  “I thought the same thing about you.” 

Bucky stood behind me, a silent metaphor of always having my back, no matter what came my way. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he asked one more time if I was sure about this. 

With the gun raised, pointed in the middle of John’s forehead, I gave bucky his answer by pulling the trigger. John’s body fell to the ground in a heap and I let the gun fall on top of him. 

I thought that I would have felt relieved and happy that my parents' killer was finally found and justice was served. However, I felt disgusted and my body shivered with how dirty I felt. My skin crawled with the knowledge that I had taken someone’s life. This wasn’t legal, I had committed a crime but knowing the circumstances of what happened tonight, there was no way I would get in trouble for this. 

But with being married to Bucky, I knew that the body would be gone before anyone could even question what happened to John. 

Vibranium fingers brushed against mine, bringing me back from the darkness that took over, and I gave Bucky a sad look. 

“You don’t feel any better, do you?” He asked. 

I shook my head with tears in my eyes. “I feel worse.” 

“Let’s get you home,” Bucky suggested while trying to link our hands together. 

Even with everything that just happened, I didn’t forget about how he knew about the deal between our dads in more detail that he led on. He only saw me as a cash in, someone to have when he needed a warm body to lie next to. I refused to allow myself to be lied to anymore. I deserved to have someone that felt the same and wanted me because they loved me. 

I was in love with Bucky but he wasn’t in love with me. Because of that, I was ready to walk away from everything.

My free hand clutched the wall to steady myself when I felt the room beginning to spin. I could feel all the color drain from my body as my eyes rolled to the back of my head, darkness and death yanking me into its abyss.

[storytellingbadger]

DCA Jumanji AU?

Fanfic idea - Jumanji AU. The original one. Assessing interest for future projects, what do you think? Read more for the lowdown…

A game for those who seek to play

And earn their right to another day

You roll the dice to move ahead 

Roll doubles and take a second tread

The player that finds the ending first

Wins and foils the dread one’s curse

Adventurers beware…

Five Nights at Freddy’s is unceasing

Once begun it needs completing

Consider this among your friends

Not all who start may reach the end

The game’s effects will only fade

When the end is reached and the night is played 

You’re staying in an old hotel until you can figure something out. Not charming old either - it’s worn, the sheets are paper thin and everything’s out of date. There’s only a handful of guests, it’s in the middle of nowhere and there’s no WiFi. At least the rate is cheap.

The kind of hotel with an old bar full of abandoned crime novels, chess boards with missing pieces, weird memorabilia, faded photos of better times… and a mysterious board game. 

You and three other bored, weary, wayward travellers - seemingly the only guests - decide to play a round before turning in. Nothing else to do, after all.

Once the dice is rolled, the hotel changes. The floor turns to black and white check. The lights flicker. Power becomes scarce. Hallways appear that weren’t there before. You can’t leave. 

And with every turn, a new mechanical monster comes out to play, including a celestial animatronic that, just maybe, wants to help instead of hinder.

Best figure it out fast - they don’t sound friendly…

Play with the sun ‘til you collapse

Then rocked to sleep till bones go “snap!”

Good luck.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Wait wait wait wait wait

Titan!Mars is giving sentience to the drones?! So Opportunity, Curiosity, Sojourner and the others are all gonna be baby bots some day??

(Also if we're talking moons and planets being titans, there is a moon that literally named Titan - one of Jupiter's moons I think)

Yup they will. It will certainly take a hot minute to get there, but Mars is doing his very best to make it happen. They need protomatter and exposure to the Allspark to come to full awareness, but Mars is giving them all he can in the meantime. It is yet another reason he is so dead set on getting the Allspark back if no one else will. His citizens need it to come to full awareness. He is their father now. A father never abandons his children.

Mars liked to think that if given the chance, he would have the will to fight against the Unmaker and consequently, Earth. However, upon receiving his six gifted citizens, his determination was largely shelved. His citizens would be sad if their mother Titan were to be destroyed, and quite frankly, Mars didn't want to mess up the education he'd already given his little ones.

Let Earth, Moon, and Unicron duke it out verbally. They were all idiots anyway. Mars was comparatively very normal. All he was doing was giving his little ones sentience. Hardly worthy of note really.

Sojourner was old by the standards of his fledgling race. Mars had to be careful with him. Sojourner had to be gently imbued with the shards of a spark, and even then, Sojourner struggled to reach full sentience without his other half, Marie Curie. Often the new mind of Sojourner would wander to his companion still on Earth, and Mars could only hold him close and hope that maybe Earth would convince one of her children to send Marie Curie to him.

Spirit was an aggressive young mind and loyal to a fault. He was easy to bring to life. The care put into him by his human creators gave him the barest inklings of sentience, and that was more than enough for Mars to work with. Spirit remained within the section of Mars that the humans dubbed "Troy". The little thing was dead set on gathering information, just as he had been instructed so very long ago. Mars had and continues to support Spirit in his attempts to use his communication systems to reach NASA again with fresh data. Mars knows it is a risk on his end, but the ones who made his citizens are so loving. Mars is of the mind that they will be more interested in hearing from their wayward son than anything else.

Opportunity was almost eager to be given life. She endured many trials when she remained in contact with her makers, and the fact that she overcame them gave her the seeds of thought Mars needed to gift her the beginnings of a spark. Opportunity roams his surface with glee, and Mars fuels her travels with songs and gentle prodding. She too desires to one day regain connection to NASA to share her discoveries. Mars adores her desire to see and explore. She reminds him of Moon in a way. At least, the Moon when he was younger and filled with life, eager to please his young citizens.

Curiosity and Perseverance did not come to Mars at the same time, but they too arrived with the inklings of a fledgling mind. Mars accepted them with joy and did not impede them as they gleefully fulfilled their directives. He has slowly worked to give them sparks, but he will not directly interact with them until they inevitably lose connection with NASA. He wants them to know the love of their creators for as long as possible. Curiosity is more than happy to continue roving and fulfill her directive while also humming songs to Mars through fledgling EM bursts. Perseverance gleefully follows his older sister in her devotion to the task. Mars is very proud of them.

 Zhurong was different when he came to Mars. He was not from NASA, and that was new for Mars. Zhurong was a sweet mind though. He took longer to come to awareness, but Mars was glad to have him all the same. Being so young, Zhurong has yet to do much of note, but Mars encourages him whenever possible.

There were others too. Smaller minds send to Mars to observe and keep an optic on his surface. Phoenix, Viking's 1 and 2, InSight, Beagle 2, Mars 1, 3, and 6. They were all sent to him, but without any of the touch that gave the six life. Mars tends to them all the same. Maybe one day he will find a way to give them the touch that brings about thought and free will.

Mars loves his strange citizens, and he is hopeful that they may one day become Cybertronian given enough time and attention from him. Moon thinks he is weird for his obsession, as does Unicron.

Moon: Why do you care so much about the rovers? They aren't even proper citizens, much less Cybertronian in origin.

Mars: Shut your fragging mouth Moon. You don't get to talk when you ABANDONED your citizens back on Cybertron!

Moon: I DID NO SUCH THING YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK-

Unicron: Yes, destroy each other for my amusement.

Earth: Father, don't encourage them please. I don't want children's creations to die in the crossfire.

Earth is happy Mars loves her grandchildren, but she does worry about his interactions with Moon when they talk about citizens a a whole.

[justcallmefox89]

First Sight

One of the Grove's mysterious saviors seems to have an interest in a particularly prickly tiefling.

You are most fortunate, Rolan.  Few catch my interest, but your letters demonstrate potential.  I’m willing to give you a chance. However, a warning – you must be willing to do whatever is necessary. Power is not cheap.  And I’ll not suffer weakness in my own student.

-Loroakkan

Rolan smooths out a wrinkle in the parchment, absentmindedly noting how much the ink has faded.  He reads the words again, reminding himself of his goal, and painstakingly refolds the letter before stowing it in the inner pocket of his robes.  This letter has travelled with him from Elturel to the hells and back again, and gods be damned if he’ll lose it now that his dream is within reach. 

If only we could make out of this godsdamned grove.

He slouches against the cavern wall, huddling further into the secluded little enclave he’s tried to create for Cal and Lia, far away from Zevlor’s watchful eyes, the judgmental gazes of the druids, and the constant, mind-numbing chattering of the other tieflings.  Lia complained at first, wanting to be closer to the others, but had relented when Cal sided with Rolan.

Speaking of…

His younger brother ducks to fit under the tattered fabric masquerading as the roof of current sleeping space, a bowl of stew in each hand.  He thrusts one into Rolan’s hands and settles down on the ground next to him.  “Okta says hello.”

Rolan grunts and mindlessly stirs his spoon through the watery gruel, only half listening to Cal.

“You could at least pretend to try,” his brother sighs, setting aside his own bowl.

Rolan rolls his eyes, already irritated by the familiar argument.  “I’ve always taken care of you and Lia, haven’t I?”

“Of course, but-”

“Then why would we need anyone else?  These people don’t care about us, we’re not kin.  We just happen to be stuck in the same unfortunate circumstance.  Besides, once we get to Baldur’s Gate, we’ll have no reason to speak to these people ever again.”

Cal frowns and turns away.  “We might not need anyone else, but that doesn’t mean me and Lia want to be alone for the rest of our lives.”

“Why would you be alone?” Rolan asks, bewildered.  “We’ll always have each other.”

“We don’t want to shut out the rest of the world, Rolan,” Cal protests, raising his voice.

Rolan scowls.  “When has the rest of the world ever cared about us?  Where was the rest of the world when -”

The long, sonorous sound of a horn interrupts Rolan’s tirade.

Cal cocks his head to the side, listening intently before realization dawns.  “The war horn!  Another attack!”

Rolan’s head whips around, searching the tiefling encampment for his wayward sister.  “Where’s Lia?”

Cal’s eyes widen.  “She was at the gate with Cerys!”

Many nerve wracking minutes later the brothers catch sight of their sister scampering down the ladder that leads to the top of the defensive walls that line the grove, a wide smile on her face.  The gate to the grove rises with a groan and Aradin and his group of mercenaries trudge through, followed by a group of four unknown fighters.  Zevlor immediately flies at Aradin, loudly scolding him for leading a rogue band of goblins back to their haven.  The apparent leader of the mysterious group approaches the arguing pair, interjecting with a low, husky voice in an attempt to calm the two.  Rolan takes advantage of the situation, studying the newcomer. 

Clad in pitch black leather armor, a cape and cowl covering his head and face, the new arrival stands head and shoulders taller than both Zevlor and Aradin, his body lithe and strong beneath his armor.

The warrior’s head snaps up, as if feeling Rolan’s eyes on him.  He gazes in the wizard’s direction, his head cocked to the side as if he's studying the tiefling.  Unable to see the man’s eyes or facial expression, Rolan begins to fidget uncomfortably before steeling himself to defiantly stare back at the stranger.  For some reason Rolan gets the distinct impression that his actions amuse the man, who eventually returns to his attention to Zevlor and Aradin.

“Did you see that?  They were amazing!” Lia cries out, dashing up to her brothers.

As it so often does Rolan’s fear for his sister manifests as anger and he grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.  “What were you thinking?  I’ve told you to stay away from the walls, to stay back where it’s safe -��

“I can’t just hide away from the world the way you do, Rolan!” Lia snaps.  “I want to be around people… help them!  And these people need our help!”

“Don’t.”  Rolan holds up his hand, attempting to stop her tirade before she truly gathers steam.  “We don’t owe these people anything and we need to be on the road to Baldur’s Gate as soon as we can.”

Lia groans in frustration.  “Hells, we can’t just leave.  They’re kin.”

“I’ll not gamble our lives, our futures, on people who are as good as dead,” Rolan responds coldly.  “We must leave for Baldur’s Gate – at once.”

“Can we all just take a moment?  Please?” Cal pleads.

“What’s the point of blades and spells if we don’t bloody use them?  We should stay,” Lia argues.  “These people aren’t fighters.  We can help.”

Cal sighs.  “Or yell louder.  That’s fine too.”

One of the newcomers sidles up to them, a giantess of a tiefling who radiates heat like a furnace.  “If we don’t protect our kin, no one else will,” she insists.  “You should stay.”

“Thank you!” Lia exclaims.  “It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”

“She’s right, Rolan.  We’re better than this,” Cal adds.

“Zurgan,” Rolan growls.  “Fine.  I’ll stay too.  Lest you both end up with your throats slit by a goblin blade.”

“What a noble sacrifice,” an unknown voice teases.  Slightly accented and strangely melodious, it sends an unbidden shiver down Rolan’s spine.  He catches a flash of black out of the corner of his eye as the mysterious warrior leaves Zevlor and joins their small group, peeling away his blood spattered cowl and hood.  Lia gasps involuntarily as the fabric falls away, revealing long, bright white hair, twilight colored skin, and long ears that taper to a delicate point.

Under-elf!

The stranger’s eyes flash towards Rolan, sparking likes rubies in the sunlight, and the tiefling feels a rush of panic at being so close to one of Lolth’s loyal subjects.  The spider goddess is not known for her mercy, and those who worship her are known to be equally callous.

“Don’t be nervous, little one,” the drow purrs, leaning closer to Lia.  “I won’t bite.”  He slides a suggestive look in Rolan’s direction.  “I wouldn’t say no to a nibble from him though.”

“Stay away from her,” Rolan hisses, stepping between the drow and his sister, resolutely ignoring the pleasurable shudder that runs through him at being so close to the stranger.

Blood colored eyes widen at his boldness and the drow smirks, tracing the emblem on Rolan’s robes with the tip of one finger.  “So the kitten has claws,” he murmurs.

“Knock it off,” the unknown tiefling orders, nudging him with her elbow.

“As you command,” the strange drow says cheerfully, instantly stepping away from Rolan.

The wizard frowns, confused by the sudden fluttering low in his belly and the sense of loss left by the man’s absence.

“I’m Karlach,” the tiefling continues, slinging her arm around the drow’s shoulders.  “And this is Drakul.”

“Drakul’ayne of House Barri’mtor.”  He takes Rolan’s hand in his, performing a courtly bow and pressing a kiss to the tiefling’s knuckles.  “May I say what an absolute pleasure it is to make your acquaintance?”

Rolan feels heat flood his cheeks and stands rooted to the spot, his hand still firmly in Drakul’s.  “I… I… that is…”

Lia and Cal snicker behind him, clearly enjoying his momentary vexation.  Embarrassment turns to shame, and true to form Rolan lashes out.

“Unhand me,” he snaps, jerking his hand out of Drakul’s grasp and wiping it against his robes, a fleeting sense of disappointment washing over him as he brushes away the sensation of Drakul’s lips on his skin.

One white eyebrow arches in question and Drakul’s lips quirk to the side, as if he’s entertained by Rolan’s outburst.  Zevlor’s voice catches everyone’s attention as he calls for Drakul and Karlach to rejoin him.  Karlach jogs towards the former Hellrider but Drakul lingers momentarily, his gaze raking over Rolan like a caress.

“Be seeing you, Kitten,” he murmurs, gracing Rolan with one final smirk before striding back to Zevlor.

[thana-topsy]

Hey so no pressure whatsoever to answer this sleep-deprived ask but I have (once again!!) been reading Breathing Water for that Comfort Fic dopamine, and I realised that to travel from Winterhold to the Nightgate Inn they would have to pass through my absolute favourite location, the Wayward Pass shrine!

It's an interesting little shrine to Arkay and I was wondering what kind of reaction you think Teldryn and Neloth would have had to it? I can imagine of course as more daedra-leaning worshippers they might not look twice but it's always where I take my OCs and wondered if you had any thoughts

Hope life's treating you kindly <3

Thank you SO much for this lovely ask and this interesting prompt! Idk if you meant it as a writing prompt, but that's where I took it. (I love that BW is a comfort fic for you, that is such a high compliment). But anyhoo, I even fired up Skyrim to go wandering around the freezing north to get a feel for the area. So here you go! Please enjoy a retroactive cut scene of this leg of Neloth and Teldryn's journey.

---

“Admit it, we’re lost.”

“We most certainly are not.” Neloth cast a guidance spell, the snaking purple light fettering out a few feet ahead of them. He dropped the charge and pursed his lips. A sweeping gust of wind rolled up the mountainside from the sea and nearly pushed him over, adding insult to injury. 

“I told you to buy a damn map from the innkeeper!” Teldryn said, holding a fireball in his palms for warmth. “But oh no, of course the Great and Powerful Master of House Telvanni is beyond something as tried and true as cartography.”

“Will you shut it,” Neloth snapped. “I need to concentrate.” The cold was getting to him—a deep, bone-numbing cold unlike anything he’d ever felt—creeping death at its worst. He cast a quick flare of his warming spell, reserving his magicka while briefly returning feeling to his toes and fingertips.

“That looks like a pass over the mountain,” Teldryn said, his voice weak beneath the howl of the wind.

Neloth squinted through the snow. “Where?” 

“Up there, look where I’m pointing.”

Neloth stepped beside him to follow the line of Teldryn’s finger. Sure enough, there appeared to be a gap in the mountain’s sheer rock face. 

“If we hike all the way up there and it’s a dead end, then I’m–”

“Yes, yes,” Teldryn interrupted, waving him away as he began to trudge forward through the deepening snow drifts. “You can eat me first when we run out of food.” 

“Gallows humor!” Neloth called after him with a humorless laugh. “At a time like this?” When no response came, he began to follow silently in the path Teldryn had carved through the snow.

It took them an inordinate amount of time to reach the top of the mountain, battling against the growing blizzard the entire way. By the time they reached the pass, Neloth had moved beyond the point of shivering, frozen to his core. They paused in the shallow grotto, panting and regaining some of their warmth. 

“Oh,” Teldryn said with quiet surprise, prompting Neloth to look up. 

Seemingly cut into the rock, partially hidden from the elements, a single skeleton lay in front of a shrine along a stone slab, carefully arranged, accompanied by various offerings—a longsword, armor, dried herbs, bits of gold and jewelry. 

“It’s a shrine,” Teldryn said. 

“Obviously.” 

“To Arkary, it looks like.” 

“Which one is that?” Neloth asked, and received a withering look from Teldryn in response. 

“You’re joking.” 

“Partially, yes,” Neloth said with a twitch of his lip. “God of cycles and death and what-have-you. I’m not that out of touch, Teldryn, please. Have a little faith.”

“Faith, right,” Teldryn grumbled. He brushed some of the snow off the statue at the center of the altar, then picked up one of the pendants that lay by the skeleton. “They say a body that’s received the proper blessings of Arkay is immune to necromancy,” he mused to no one in particular. “Seems useful, honestly.”

Neloth pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. Yes, he’d heard such things, but never had he been presented with the opportunity to test the theory. Purple light swirled into his palm, a micro-rift into the realms of Oblivion, and with a small push—subtle enough that Teldryn wouldn’t immediately notice—he directed the rift into the skeleton that lay across the altar.

The rejection was strong and immediate, like a door slamming shut inside of Neloth’s head, followed by a wave of nausea that he only barely managed to swallow down. He dropped the spell and turned to brace himself against the opposite wall, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Teldryn set the amulet down then turned slowly towards him, expression hidden behind his chitin helmet and goggles. “Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did.”       

“The opportunity for an experiment presented itself,” Neloth argued through the taste of rising bile in the back of his throat. “All in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“And did you come to a conclusion?” 

There was smugness there that Neloth didn’t appreciate one bit. He hoped his scowl conveyed as much. “Let’s just keep moving. At this rate we’ll be corpses ourselves, and I don’t see a priest of Arkay anywhere to lend a helping hand.”

“Whatever you say,” Teldryn said, still far too smug. “Lead on.”

--

Shoutout to @paraparadigm for the "door slamming shut" imagery inspiration from her fic "Always Read the Fine Print".

[the-victorian-alchemist]

Books I've read/on my TBR that I think TGS Jekyll would enjoy:

The Wayward Children Series by Seanan McGuire - I think the series would heal his inner child, also, there's a character who's apprenticed to a Frankenstein inspired scientist, so absolute bonus!

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White - Victorian Era, autistic trans boy with a special interest in surgery? He loves it (even moreso if you headcanon him as a trans man, which I love and need to see/write more of:) )

The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - The even gayer version, I need not say more.

A Clash of Steel by C.B. Lee - Treasure Island retelling, plus, in a old piece of art from Sage's asks about Jekyll's favorite books, he's shown with Treasure Island. I can see him really enjoying it!

Honestly? The entire Remixed Classics series, I'll list them below the cut in order. Specifically, I think he'd enjoy Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie McLemore (TFT Gatsby and Nick) and Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa (Gay Darcy and Trans man second eldest Bennet child named Oliver) Queer young men entering a different, and higher, society and another also queer young man they fall in love with helping them navigate it.

Remixed Classics:

A Clash of Steel C.B. Lee - Treasure Island

So Many Beginnings by Bethany C. Morrow - Little Women

Travelers Along the Way by Aminah Mae Safi - Robin Hood

What Souls are Made of by Tasha Suri - Wuthering Heights

Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie McLemore - The Great Gatsby

My Dear Henry by Kalynn Bayron - Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Teach the Torches to Burn by Caleb Roehrig - Romeo and Juliet

Into the Bright Open by Cherie Dimaline - The Secret Garden

Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa - Pride and Prejudice

[the-modern-typewriter]

Fantasy Book Recs

For the people who asked for book recs, muhahaha...

(You may be interested in my book tag or my goodreads) The tag definitely repeats some of my favourites because I keep recommending them, but in my defence, they are excellent and I need no defence. 

Anyway, fantasy book recs my love...I know I have a type. We all know I have a type. I was not kidding about the fairytales/retellings obsession.

Also, let’s get it out of the way. Literally ANYTHING by V.E Schwab. I cannot stress that enough. My favourite is The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue, but like. God tier.

I’m just going to go and add Leigh Bardugo here as well. Slightly less god tier, but still great. Especially Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom which is god tier.

Short(er) stories and short story collections

The Poison Eaters and Other Stories by Holly Black

A Portable Shelter and A Rental Heart and Other Fairytales and Things We Say In The Dark by Kirsty Logan

A Spindle Splintered by Alix. E. Harrow

Lips Touch: Three Times by Laini Taylor

The Greenhollow Duology by Emily Tesh

Wayward Children novellas by Seanan McGuire

Hag (collection with numerous authors)

Beasts and Beauty by Soman Chainani

Novels

The Song of Achilles by Madeleine Miller

Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente

Uprooted and Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik

The Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden

Girl, Serpent, Thorn and Girls Made Of Snow and Glass by Melissa Basherdoust 

Middlegame by Seanan McGuire

The Sisters of the Winter Wood by Rena Rossner

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Dark Rise by C.S Pascat

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell (I think the series goes down in quality, but the first one is excellent and I think can be read standalone)

The Montague Siblings trilogy by Mackenzie Lee

The Folk of Air trilogy and The Darkest Part of the Forest and The Coldest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker

The Binding by Bridget Collins

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J Klune

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M Danforth

Payback’s a Witch by Lana Harper / Blood Countess by Lana Popovic

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer (I’m not being ironic, I think the first book is great)

The Time Traveller’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

Interview with a vampire by Anne Rice

Note I have limited this list to really liked and it was amazing. There are lots of others I have liked and enjoyed while reading.

[daevastanner]

Eventually Pt 2

For everyone who read the same version of the ACOTAR series as me where Lucien has never been possessive or creepy

Meanwhile, in the river house garden…

“If one of us is no longer interested, then the other's opinion is irrelevant. We owe each other nothing, Elain. I owe you no more than you owe Lucien.” 

Moments later, Azriel’s words still played over and over in Elain’s head, echoing in her mind and stoking her anger. Not even the sight of her flourishing hydrangeas could banish her ire. She turned her eyes to her fidgeting fingers in her lap.  

Why was it that whatever Elain desired from her male partners they always wanted the opposite? With Graysen, she had wanted forever, but he had only wished for her to disappear. With Azriel, she’d wanted to lose herself and forget her troubles, but the shadowsinger had wanted to find himself and keep her. 

Then there was Lucien, he… 

Elain’s thoughts trailed off, pressure building behind her eyes as she once again found herself acknowledging the truth about her wayward mate. While he wanted to pursue the mating bond and Elain did not, he had honored her wishes. Unlike Azriel and Graysen, he hadn’t turned her away or asked her to change, Lucien had decided to wait it out. To fight for her, not with brute force or harsh truths, but with patience. 

In fact, Lucien had gone out of his way to find people and hobbies and fulfillment so Elain wouldn’t feel pressured to rush things. Not that she assumed that was the only reason he’d sought a new purpose. He was his own person after all, and likely sought out a calling for the same reason she did. For the opportunity to find out who she was outside of the life that had been made for her, rather than by her. Still, Elain was eternally grateful Lucien didn’t follow her around like a mopey puppy dog. She’d told him as much after the war with Hybern during their brief but frank discussion about how she wanted to move forward. 

It was a conversation Elain thought of often but never discussed. When they’d finished talking that day, both of them had agreed that the words spoken would remain between the two of them, far from the Inner Circle’s incessant meddling. 

Then Elain realized that of everyone she knew – not just the males in her life – Lucien seemed to be the only person who wanted her to have exactly what she wished for: a choice. 

She sniffed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she remembered Graysen’s venomous rejection. Then Azriel’s frank refusal to continue being her ‘distraction.’

Would anyone ever want what Elain wanted to give? 

“Elain?” 

Elain lifted her head, looking up from where she sat on the stone bench in her garden here at the river house. Standing on the patio, carrying a colorful parcel and wreathed by a lattice archway of ivy, was the last person Elain had expected to see. 

“Lucien,” she said, roughly dashing away the tears on her cheeks with the heel of her palm. She offered him a tepid smile. “What brings you here?”

Lucien took a cautious step forward, his riding boots creaking audibly. He didn’t match her attempt at a smile, only continued to eye her as though she were an easily startled animal. “I’m a little late, but I came to give my congratulations to Rhys and Feyre. I brought a gift for the babe.” 

Elain squared her shoulders, swallowing the lingering thickness in her throat. “Oh, well, Feyre is at her studio for the day and Rhysand has meetings all afternoon. It will be a few hours before they’re both available.”

The emissary gave a slow nod, his assessing gaze raking over Elain again. She felt laid bare, tucking her chin self consciously.

Lucien tucked the parcel into the travel satchel at his side, then adjusted the lapels of his emerald jacket, rumpled from travel no doubt. “I’ll return later then... You will tell them I called?” 

“Mmhm,” Elain said, averting her gaze as a chasm seemed to yawn open inside of her. 

Truthfully, she didn’t wish to be alone. She wanted company. Someone to listen to her about Azriel and her aching heart. But perhaps Lucien wasn’t the best choice for such a topic…

Her mate half turned, heading back towards the ivy archway that led out of the garden, then halted. He seemed to swear under his breath, before spinning on his heel to face her again. His expression was unguarded and slightly sympathetic. 

“Have you been crying?” he asked, frankly. 

Read the rest on AO3