#and one of those times will be in front of duke to protect him from some goons trying to kidnap duke for his connections to the wayne famil

[luxaofhesperides]

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 

They’ll never get to meet. 

Duke had never felt so alone before. 

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow? 

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 

“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 

“Man, what a day.” 

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

[baeshijima]

— hsr men in a royalty au

INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader

A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.

genshin ver.

imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?

there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.

jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.

(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)

despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…

for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.

dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.

(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)

royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.

the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.

it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.

(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)

with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.

being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.

there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.

(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)

thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.

the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.

he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.

(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)

amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.

there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.

sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.

(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

[gay-dorito-dust]

hmmm just imagine Jason Todd with a girlfriend pretty and kind like an angel and everyone is just shocked because 'how they're a couple??"

Think I went a little of ask for this one 😂 🦦

Jason calls you his angel for a reason.

You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re downright beautiful/gorgeous and withheld an equally sweet, kind soul that bleeds through everything that you did or said. When you met Jason he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, finding him just slumped at your front door, severely injured. Anyone else who knew better would’ve left him but no, not you. You brought him -THE RedHood- into your house and home out of the kindness of your heart and patched him up as best as you could.

Heaven sent is another name of endearment that Jason called you and it held true on a plethora of occasions where he would find himself being dragged back at your doorstep, and it wasn’t long after that did Jason finally allow himself to pursue a chance at happiness by your side, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t the best decision he’s ever made in his entire life because being with you had been nothing short of a dream for Jason. A dream he never thought he’d get to live with the fucked up ordeal of having came back from the dead.

However when his family manages to catch wind of this because nothing stays secret for long, not by a long shot, their first thought was; how?

This wasn’t a slight towards Jason or his character but they couldn’t help but feel as though they’ve blinked and missed something extremely pivotal for this to have become the end result. They weren’t the only one to share this sentiment though as even Jason would be taken aback by your differences and often wondered if you were too different for your relationship to work.

It does however and it was one of the only times where Jason was grateful for being wrong for getting inside his own head, and just before he possibly ruins the best thing that has ever happened to him in a long, long while by self sabotage too. God only knows how much Jason would’ve hated himself for doing such a heinous thing to someone as underserving of such treatment as you.

So when Dick asks him one day ‘how did you manage to get someone like them?’ Whilst gesturing to you as you talked with the likes of Duke, Stephanie and Cass and getting along. Jason couldn’t think of a clear answer that would be enough to satisfy his brother’s curiosity because how was he meant to answer that question without it sounding generic and unoriginal.

‘Did you use any offhanded tactics to get them to be in a relationship with you?’ Damian asks and Dick gives him a look, only for the younger of the two of them to shrug his shoulders. ‘It was only a simple question Grayson.’

‘Yeah, just not one you ask when your brother comes home for the first time in months, and in a relationship nonetheless with the epitome of sweetness.’ Dick replied before looking over to Jason who was looking over at you with soft yet protective look on his face, but before Dick could say anything about how nothing was going to happen to you whilst in the Wayne Manor, Jason had already found the answer he has been looking for the entire evening.

‘They saved me.’ In the moment he said those words you looked over at him, Dick and Damian and smiled brightly that it never failed to knock the air out of Jason’s lungs upon seeing it. His angel, his heaven sent, the face he is blessed to see first and last thing in the mornings and late nights where he gently scolds you for staying up for him before kisses you in gratitude for doing so anyway.

Dick seemed content with this answer and meanwhile Damian looked visibly indifferent, he made a noise that said that he was also satisfied with this answer, just in time too as you came over to Jason and subtly held his pinkie with your own as you kissed his cheek. ‘You didn’t to tell me how cool your siblings were Jay!’ You began when Dick decided to join in on it too as he looked as Jason, betrayed. ‘You didn’t? Why not? Is it because you want your lovely partner to always be biased towards you?’ He pouts.

You chuckled and patted Jason on the bicep as you addressed Dick. ‘I’m always going to be bias towards my Jason.’ You admitted, causing a wave of warmth to flood Jason’s entire body upon hearing your confident confession. ‘For he is simply the best man I have ever met and that will never change.’

‘Never?’ Dick asked.

‘Never.’ You answered.

‘Even if he may be in the wrong sometimes?’ Damian asked this time and you shrugged, still smiling. ‘Not all of us are perfect beings and that’s a reality I’d accept rather than one where we’re all without flaw, physical or otherwise.’ Jason felt as though he might combust from your words alone but managed to compose himself enough to press a kiss to your temple to whisper against it. ‘Thank you baby.’

‘Anything for you Jaybirdie.’ You responded in kind, feeling him take hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you rested your head against his bicep as you both continued to talk with Damian and Dick.

Yours and Jason’s relationship may not be what many expected it to be or make logical but why should it when you and Jason were more than happy together?

[battymommastuff]

The Loop [Caution: Sharp Objects]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: It was all a nightmare...simply a nightmare right? Right?

TW: DARK THEMES, NEEDLES AND DEATH

Masterlist Part 1

(GIF not mine)

You uncomfortably made breakfast as Cassandra stared holes into your head. Every Time you moved too quickly, she would flinch then reach out for you. As if she were trying to protect you from something. While you enjoyed spending time with the people you considered your children, this was making you weary.

You were still trying to figure out what happened earlier that morning. Never in your life were you greeted like that. Every single face that you saw had the same look of pure horror on it. It was like you had died right in front of them or something.

"She's just cooking...cooking breakfast." Barbara said as she watched you from the security cameras in the kitchen. Well it wasn't just her watching. "Every movement, and order she's cooking in was exactly the same." Barbara leaned closer to the camera, she wasn't going to miss any details. Anything that you do differently, she will document.

"A hallucigen?" Tim suggested grimacing when he felt the needle push into his vein. Alfred hummed in thought as he collected another blood sample to test, "We were all at the fight with the League, it's possible they used some invisible drug. Maybe us waking up was the drug leaving our system?" Tim asked as Alfred pulled the needle from his arm. After getting it bandaged, he stood up so Duke could get his blood tested next.

"That is likely, we should have done urine samples instead." Bruce mumbled as he analyzed their blood for any signs of drugs or anything that didn't belong.

"Bruce, all the blood is coming up clean. If we were drugged, I doubt something that strong would wash out that quickly. I mean come on, we were all there. We felt her dead body, I felt her blood soak into my pants. There was no way it was fake. It was too real." Dick snapped and ran his hand through his hair, "I felt her body get cold. How is any of this even happening?" He asked then walked away while weaving his fingers through his hair. Stephanie followed after him to try and console him.

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Okay, you were a little offended. You've just finished your famous breakfast, and no one is anywhere to be seen. Well except Cass, who was still watching you while she ate. After a few minutes of the silence, you stood up and stormed to the batcave.

The team was hard at work trying to figure out what happened when you made your way into the dark and gloomy place. "I made a delicious breakfast, and no one has come up to enjoy it. What possibly is so important that you couldn't wait?" You asked while crossing you arms.

They nearly jumped out of their skin when they heard your voice. They were so focused on finding a solution, that they didn't hear you coming down the steps.

Your eyes drifted from your family to the giant computer screen where you saw the results of their drug tests, "What is going on?" You asked then grabbing the nearest person who happened to be Damian. You turned his arm around to see the gauze and bandage wrapped around his arm.

"After the fight with the League, we wanted to make sure we were under the effects of anything dangerous. A simple precaution." Bruce said quickly as he made his way over to you. He rested his hands on your waist, but you noticed the slight hesitation as he did. "Now, let's go eat your breakfast." He said then started leading you out of the batcave, which only led you to ask more questions.

The surprise party was quickly canceled. Even if it was a dream, they didn't want to relive an ounce of those memories. Instead, they opted to take you shopping to your favorite places. Each store, they took turns buying you whatever you wanted. To you, it looked like a simple family outing, but to others, it looked like you were walking around with bodyguards.

Damian even went as far as threatening someone who glanced at you for too long.

After several stores, it was time to get a snack. Everyone managed to cram themselves into the outside patio of an ice cream shop. Bruce felt at ease being that they were in the safer part of the city. You ate your ice cream while chatting away happily. Everyone began to relax, and finally started to feel as if this was just a bad dream.

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Now fully relaxed, your family abandoned the protection formation. You were pushing Barbara and chatting with Jason casually. Though you didn't miss the sketchy person that had been following you. Your constant glances behind you didn't go unnoticed by Jason who alerted the rest of the family.

As soon as the stalker realized he'd been discovered, he lunged for you. Jason quickly intervened, but this man was clearly skilled. It wasn't long before your entire family was fighting to subdue this man. They had to do so as best they could without raising any suspicion as to who their alter egos were. After their success, they proceeded to question him. He could be linked to their dream...if it was real.

Though they would never think that this man could have a partner. He did. You let out a strangled scream when someone grabbed you from behind and a knife was plunged into your chest. The knife left your body, only to be plunged in again and again. Both men ran in opposite directions after the deed was done. This time, Damian was the one who caught you instead of your body hitting the ground.

The young boy watched as you coughed up your blood, and looked at you bleeding body in shock. You then looked up at Damian and your eyes went cold. "Ummi?" He called out while pressing his small hands against your wounds, as if that would help. How could this have happened? What the hell was going on?

Like the night at the party, everyone stood in shock. It was up to one of the Gotham citizens to call the police.

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Police cars, and news vans crowded the area as the family found themselves reliving the horrible night over again. Though no one was holding your body this time. A bloody white sheet covered it. Jason was currently handcuffed and in the back of a police car after he took his anger out on another one.

Gordon knelt by his daughter's side in an attempt to get her to speak, but she was quiet. All eyes were on your corpse once again. What did they do wrong? Was someone out to kill you? First a bullet through the head, then being stabbed in the middle of the street? It didn't make sense.

Dick sat on the ground with his head in his hands when he felt the urge to look up. Across the street where the massive crowd was, he saw a dark figure standing there. It seemed like no one could see it, but him, "Guys?" He called out as he stood up. Everyone looked at him, then followed his pointed finger. Like Dick, they saw the same dark figure.

They watched as it cocked its head to the side then held up an all too familiar music box. Slowly, it opened and the crank started to spin. Bruce started running across the street to try and stop this figure, but his body collapsed to the ground. Gordon caught his daughter when she fell into his arms. She was fast asleep.

Dick held himself up against the wall while trying to memorize every detail of this figure. Whatever it was, he was going to stop it.

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Damian woke up with cold sweat on his body. He wasted no time in getting out of bed to get to his parent's bedroom. He was wearing the same pj's as last time. He threw the door open, and saw that Bruce had just woken up.

Ignoring his father, he went right to the bathroom where you were rubbing some lotion onto your hands. "Damian, what's-" You were cut off when Damian collided with you. His arms were nearly crushing you, "Ummi." He whimpered out like he did when he was having a nightmare. You rested one hand on his head, and the other was on his back.

"It's alright little bird, I'm right here. Everything is okay."

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TAGLIST

@justafanficsreader @seaweed-orchid @O-n-1-x @jared-oranges

@cumbermovels

[catcze]

do you have more hybrid wriothesley thoughts?

i know you think he'd be a dog hybrid but what about the obvious, wolf?

I HAVE MANY MANY MANY THOUGHTS bUT i will put them in points for my own sanity and so that i do not break my keyboard from typing ajksndajkakjs

I tried to,,, contain myself,,, as an exercise of self control,,,, but I still ended up writing smthn a little long TT

Wriothesley who is literally super soft, but only when he's around you.

Most people see him as the duke, as the admin of the fortress. He's got a fearsome reputation as someone who doesn't take any shit, and for good reason. He's not someone to be fucked with, in the least. The only exception to this rule is you. Wriothesley actually turns clingy when you're in his vicinity. Always turning his head so he can keep you in his peripheral vision, always making sure that you don't seem upset. The moment he sees a frown marring your face, he's striding over to you, a hand on your shoulder and quietly asking if you're alright.

He's... a bit more protective than you would have initially thought. Must be a wolf thing, you guess.

It was the most evident the first time both of you had went to Sumeru on a leisurely trip to see more of Teyvat. Neither of you could have expected accidentally triggering one of those strange machines in the desert, nor the hostility that it showed towards the both of you. Now, you were competent in a fight, and Wriothesley already knew that beforehand, but he still took it upon himself to place himself between the construct and you, infusing his gauntlets with Cryo and taking it out before you could even do anything. And then, instead of even checking himself over, he had rushed over to your perfectly fine self, checking over you and making sure you were okay.

He's always incredibly delighted to see you, and if you're alright with it, he likes to be connected to you in some way, shape or form.

Wriothesley is basically your living, walking blanket. Any chance he can get, he drapes himself on your back, practically flopping on you and leaving you to yelp and deal with the sudden weight you're burdened with. It's fun to mess with you while still holding you close, he reasons to himself. You grumble and sigh about how this is the third time I've dropped my drink because of you, Wriothesley, but you can tolerate it, you suppose, when he always looks so pleased when he's with you.

Wolfboy Wriothesley would be more,,, flirtatious, than dogboy wriothesley 👀👀

Wolfboy Wriothesley knows the effect he has on you. He knows how embarrassed you get when he holds you hand and keeps you by his side in front of other people. He knows how you react to his playful, flirty quips and his banter, and he just can't get enough of any of it. He says some of the simplest shit, but he's so rizzed when he says it that it becomes flirty !! With how he says it, he can make you feel so so so confident in yourself for the entire day, and it makes sure that you know how into you he is, so it's a win-win in his book.

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ deal with the devils ]❜

ft. doppio dropscythe, kotoka torahime, ver vermillion, meloco kyoran, hex haywire (separate, mostly) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ looks like you landed yourself in debt to a student council member after a gamble, but instead of paying it off with cash, they decided that you’ll be their personal pet!┊2.1k words

contains: smut!! dom doppi, koto, ver, melo, hex & sub reader┊kakegurui au, dubcon, pet play (collars, leashes, pet names, melo & hex treat you like a cat), master/pet dynamic, embarrassment/humiliation, third parties can be seen as xsoleil doppi - possessive behavior, fingering, edging as punishment, maybe ooc koto - masturbation (reader), recording, sending the vid to a third party) ver - cockwarming & unprotected sex, public (in front of xsoleil) melo - sex toys under clothing (publicly, in front of a third party) hex - possessive behavior, thigh-riding

➤ author's note: kotoka singing deal with the devil… happy one year anniversary to my fav wave!! looking forward to write more content for them because they deserve it! (especially the girls smh)┊(karaoke stream link)

snickering from onlookers didn’t help your situation as you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, staring down at the cards in horror with your face burning from embarrassment. the student council member across from you smirked in victory, enjoying the show of your once confident exterior crumbling and tears beginning to streak down your pretty face. you weren’t a bad opponent, you just second-guessed your own abilities too many times which caused them to catch your bluff. now, you owe millions to them as a result.

don’t be so worried, they have a deal for you! either you become a regular ‘mittens’ to be bullied and harassed by the entire student body while trying to earn money by gambling to get out of your shitty situation faster (which could spiral into more than you could handle if you lost, forcing you to be a pet for the rest of your life) or you can become their personal housepet until they deemed your debt paid off. all that it takes is a tight collar with their name engraved in it rather than the standard dog tags to seal the deal. it’s a choice with only one answer really, they’ve never opened this option to anyone else so you would be stupid not to pick this easier route, you lucky girl!

━━━ .°˖✧ doppio dropscythe ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ as the duke of discipline, he also happens to be the one who’s also in charge of collecting debts from those who are long overdue or enforcing the life plans that are given out if the cash is never paid back. added with his past as a delinquent, he’s one of the scariest people in the school even if he insists that he could be much worse and that the students “don’t even know what scary is.” being his is added protection, you suppose. even as a designated housepet, you’re still exposed to getting terrorized by others because of your low status so having doppio’s name on your collar is enough to scare off anyone who thought of mocking you after your loss. even though usually he’s sweet toward you, his frightening side can show if you ever did something that displeased him. you could always try to be sneaky, but he has eyes and ears everywhere and always catches you,

his thumb pressed into the side of your stomach, holding you still so you could quit squirming in his grasp. your skirt was flipped upwards and your panties were merely pushed to the side, enabling him to brutally thrust his long fingers into your cunt. this was punishment, you already knew. he didn’t like the idea of you continuing to gamble to try and earn money to get out of your deal with him. did you really dislike being called his that much? or were you scared of him? he always tries his best to be kind towards you, but he guesses that seeing him threatening others daily doesn’t do much to ease your fears.

maybe finger-fucking you on a desk in an empty classroom doesn’t help either, but he needs to teach you a lesson in some way! you mewled as you felt him tease that spongy spot in you as he rotated his hand, causing you to unravel on the hardwood of the table. his palm rubbed against your clit and it was driving you insane, your cries becoming more and more pitched as you sensed your climax approaching. as melodic as you sounded right now, doppio couldn’t allow you to just yet and pulled back. he’ll repeat this as many times as it takes to discipline you because despite how it’s a vicious cycle for you, it’s an extremely fun one for him.

━━━ .°˖✧ kotoka torahime ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ first things first, as kotoka’s housepet, you’re also her servant: expect to clean up her place of residence, cook for her using fresh ingredients, and remind her to shower consistently (sometimes you’ll even help her out and massage the shampoo into her scalp). she loves to dress you up in little revealing maid dresses while you do it too, taking dozens of candid photos to further clog up her already stuffed storage on her phone. she just adores dressing you up in different styles that she finds on pinterest and trying new makeup products on you in general.

╰₊✧ on that note, she absolutely spoils you nonstop and is willing to buy you whatever clothes you want as long as she’s the first person to see you wearing it! more than half of her posts on her socials are just selfies to show off how cute you are to her massive following, liking every single comment that expresses their envy on how they wished they had a doll like you to pamper.

the ring light positioned on the nightstand was the only light in the room, but it did a perfect job of illuminating your fingers languidly dancing around your clit while kotoka filmed the entire thing on her phone and complimented you for doing such a good job. it was such a sight to watch your essence drip onto the glittery fabric below, staining and ruining the new outfit she just bought for you. don’t worry about the dress, she’ll send it to dry-cleaning later or will even replace the entire thing altogether if needed!

shame has long been thrown out the window as you stared at her painted pink middle and ring fingers that were clipped shorter than the rest, imagining that it was her fingers pushing into you instead. compared to all of the other things she has you do for her amusement, masturbating in front of her while she’s recording is relatively mundane even though there’s a high chance she’ll post it on her private story for her friends to fawn over later. don’t think too much though, just focus on performing for the camera!

━━━ .°˖✧ ver vermillion ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ think you’re let off easy because kaichou is the busiest and seemingly calmest of the bunch? think that kaichou won’t be as kinky as the others because of his position and how gentle he is? think again, you’re at a school full of people with mythic abilities who gamble as a form of status and put losers in leashes, how could anyone be exempt from the insanity? if anything, you should have seen it coming because it’s impossible for someone of his status in such an environment to be anything but a closeted freak.

you’re certain that your face is burning hotter than losing the gamble that got you in this situation, unable to look anywhere but the floor while you were nestled on the president’s cock in front of the other student council members. why he decided to do this is beyond you, but if it would work towards paying off your debt, you were willing to roll with it at the price of your dignity that was repeatedly being torn away from you. you felt incredibly self-conscious at the four pairs of eyes on you: doppio and kotoka merely peeking in a poor attempt to give you some privacy while meloco and hex were staring shamelessly with smirks, wondering if ver would ever let them take his cute pet for a spin.

whatever ver was talking about fell deaf to your ears, just filled with the mind-numbing pleasure of being stretched out by him. as uncomfortable as the whole thing felt, it wasn’t comparable to the feeling of orgasm beginning to bloom as you began to writhe for more stimulation. whenever you shifted and whined, however, he held your thighs still to stop you from moving about. he won’t give you what you want until everyone leaves the room, finally bending you over the table to fuck you until your legs are shaking.

━━━ .°˖✧ meloco kyoran ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ meloco treats you like the prettiest persian kitty in her expensive handbag that would probably cost more than your place of residence, showing you off as her most darling arm candy. she even goes as far as to run her fingers through your hair and baby-talk you while squishing your cheeks like you were a real kitten. she especially does this when she makes you sit on her lap while she’s gambling, doting on you, and paying you more attention than her opponent with the bonus of pissing them off.

╰₊✧ she insists that it’s a form of affection, but you’re more than positive that she just gets off on embarrassing you in front of others. not like how a bully treats a victim when tripping them in the halls or dumping dirty mop on them, more like dragging some bedroom things into the light when you could prefer to keep it private… but anything to pay off your debt, right?

the short plaid uniform skirt was doing you no favors as you pressed your thighs together tightly in hopes of muffling the vibrations being sent to your core, standing behind meloco while she was seated and chatting with some friends. it was on the lowest level, but the bullet toy attached to your clit was making you go crazy. it’s been on since the conversation started, a time period that you long lost track of, desire continuing to bloom but she was purposely edging and it’s certainly better than climaxing in with people taking notice. you clenched your hands together and bit the inside of your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping your lips, but failed and attracted the attention of another in the room.

you stuttered out that you were fine and adverted your eyes, hoping that their conversation would continue and take their attention off of you already. the exorcist looked at you with an amused smile and you watched in horror as she reached into her pocket for the controller, slowly increasing the speed of the vibrator. your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you ran out of the room, bolting to the nearest empty restroom stall and quickly removing the toy— accepting in defeat that you denied yourself ecstasy in the heat of the moment. it’s not until you left and ran into meloco did you realize that you disobeyed her orders to stay there until she was done, but from the excitement in her magenta eyes, you could tell that she was more than happy to punish you.

━━━ .°˖✧ hex haywire ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ hex isn’t the student counselor for nothing, he’s fantastic at reading people and what their next move would be with just a look at their facial expressions— it would next to impossible to win a gamble against him unless you were wearing a mask. you knew all that and still accepted his challenge out of pride, but don’t feel too bad about it, it was impossible for you to win in the first place! let’s just say that just because he’s essentially an unpaid therapist doesn’t mean that he’s above manipulating situations to his advantage!

╰₊✧ with that in mind, he’s a rigger through and through so don’t be surprised that your debt keeps increasing for various reasons and the fact that the life plan you received requires you to marry him followed by starting a family in the future. it’s not that bad, now is it? would you rather have to marry some disgusting corrupted businessman who would only care for your body and never care for your well-being, or a handsome man who will treat you like a queen and coddle you with endless riches of your wildest imagination?

he tugged on the metal chain to pull you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle in a soft and slow kiss— encouraging you to keep grinding on his thigh. through your soaked panties, you were already leaving a wet spot on his pants and he chuckled at how you were allowing your instincts to take control of your hips so easily like it was second nature. your soft moans and hums were practically purring, almost letting him to visualize a faint outline of a fluffy tail swishing about and pointed ears atop your head.

you were so adorable when you were obedient like this, sitting pretty on his lap while accepting kiss after kiss from him. you tilted your head to the side to allow him access to the soft of your neck, taking in a breath when you felt your pulse rushing under the touch of his lips as he began to mark up your skin all across your collarbone. he’ll lie and cheat a thousand more times for moments like this. if it meant having you in his arms forever, he’ll never feel an ounce of guilt for trapping you with him for the rest of your mortal lives.

[syoddeye]

final part of piercer!simon. read the previous bit.

simon x transmasc!reader. ~2.1k words. +18 only. Note: Cunt, cock, and clit are used to describe genitalia of a trans masc reader’s body. Hit the back and/or block buttons as needed. CW: description of piercing procedure, dubcon touching (reader is interested and generally consenting, but a lil scared because simon), packing, minor negative self-talk, needles (mentioned), invasive questions, simon riley’s bad filthy jokes, mild degradation, praise, fingering, frotting, just the tip, italicized dialogue

Want to see what a Duke piercin' would look like on you?

No sooner than you mutter a ‘yes’, Simon helps you to your feet, and orders you to strip from the waist-down. He turns away to rummage through an acrylic cabinet. Hands trembling, you pop your fly and pull the zipper. At the sound, the broad set of shoulders and back in front of you tense. You hesitate, fingers curled around your waistband, and his head swivels a fraction. He’s listening.

Your breath shudders. This is a preview. Not the actual piercing. 

Your jeans are barely to your thighs when he faces you again, steel forceps back in hand, two bells pinched in his fingers. Staring through half-lidded, dark eyes, he gestures to your boxer briefs with the instrument.

Those too. All the way off. Nothing I haven’t seen before. 

You doubt it. Slow as molasses, you peel the cotton down, carefully taking the modest foam packer with it. Your eyes fix themselves to the crease of Simon’s bent arm, the inky black of his tattoo, but you can’t close your ears to how he inhales deeply through his nose. Not in the way you expect. With interest, like he’s trying to sniff you out.

All the way off. He repeats.

You obey and step out of the pile of clothes. Simon hums. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze and find him staring. His eyes narrow slightly, apparently having waited, then drag down your body. Their weight palpable when they reach your cock.

Pretty.

Simon steps closer and chucks your chin with the forceps. The cold makes you swallow, and his subtle crows' feet crinkle. 

Do you trust me?

He knows the answer. You’ve paid him to stab you over a dozen times, but he needs a ‘yes’, and you give it to him. He moves. Both you and him.

Despite the cool, sterile atmosphere of Simon’s studio, you feel like you’re melting. Heat licks up your back, curling around your neck and cheeks, blistering with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. Every nerve ending alight, and Simon hasn’t even touched you, at least, not where you want him to.

Comfy?

Another ‘yes’ ekes out.

Legs spread and hauled over Simon’s thick thighs, you recline between his legs, facing a mirror. One hand guides your hips into a slight angle, putting your cock on display. His arms slip under yours, smoothing the corner of the bandage protecting your fresh navel piercing.

A chuckle rumbles through your back and tightens your chest. The hand on your stomach shifts, and his arm bands around your middle. Tucking his head into your shoulder, paper mask skimming your cheek, he draws the forceps closer to his target, and his breathing quiets in your ear. Beneath the lingering smell of disinfectant, smoke and cardamom wafts off his skin.

Gonna be cold. I’ve got you.

And it is, and he does. You fight your reflexes as he maneuvers the instrument between your thighs, brushing your cock and the sensitive dip of skin and hair. Gently exposing you further, he coos in your ear, a smugness edging his voice when it twitches. Look at you. Perfect candidate. 

The chill bites as the blunt jaws hold the skin away from your cock, and your eyes dart between it and your cunt. Your fingertips dig into his thighs at the sheen of arousal threatening to pool and drip. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed.

Hold these. Simon taps the handle. Don’t move or it’ll hurt.

Your hand takes over, and his grip relents. A barbell in each hand, he slowly moves the jewelry into places, his breath deep and even. Rapt, your mouth parts. The symmetry is simple, yet—

Gorgeous. Eyes flicking to him in the reflection, you preen, and his deep, rattling breath makes you shiver. Do you get hard often?

You wilt and think to rise, bail, but then he rubs the steel along the sides of your cock, coaxing it to attention. The move chokes his name out of your throat, and you nearly drop the tool. A huff of laughter filtered by the mask warms your face. He meets your eye in the mirror and continues.You like that, pretty? Can feel how stiff you are.

His thighs open further, taking yours with them, his covered mouth pressing to your neck. His fingers stray from the bells every other arc against your cock, gingerly stroking. At the escape of a whine, he drops the pretense altogether. The jewelry clatters to the ground abandoned, and he reclaims the forceps. He drags the flat, oval tips over your skin as if they were as soft as a feather. His free hand snakes under the hem of your shirt, shoving up until it glides to the base of your neck. A thumb rests in the hollow of your throat. The sight in the mirror renders you speechless, watching his dexterous fingers manipulate the metal to tease and toy, winding you up until you shake.

Normally can’t get you to shut it, now you’re as quiet and as fidgety as a church mouse. Simon ditches the tool next, splitting two thick fingers to take its place. They edge down, slick soaking the latex, and he groans against your head. The digits creep further, slow, one experimentally touching the tender underside of your cock, while the other pets over your hole, clearly telegraphing what’s next. 

Simon removes his hand altogether, chuckling at the whine that follows. Yeah, like that. He holds your gaze, licking the tips of his gloves clean before biting a latex tip and tugging the glove off. He hawks the thing to the floor with a wet slap, and pulls his mask under his chin. Pale, old scars decorate his face and knuckles. There’s a story, and you think to ask, but he pushes his fingers past your lips and stuffs them into your mouth. Sweat and hand soap dance over your tongue as he makes use of it, wetting his fingers up to the metacarpal, groaning at the sight of spit collecting on his skin. Wanna hear you, pretty.

You’re dripping by the time his fingers return, and with a single shaky nod in the mirror, he sinks them into your sopping cunt. Electric currents buzz bilaterally in your spine, and sparks ricochet behind your eyelids when you shut them tight and rapidly open again. His naked mouth finds your ear with whispered, unintelligible filth. He grins, self-satisfied, half-hidden by your head. Was thinkin’, he purrs with a slow pump of his fingers, I usually put holes in you. Don’t mind plugging this one.

If he wasn’t knuckles deep, you’d leave. Definitely. Wrench yourself off his—his fingers crook into a devastating angle, petting with the precision his job demands. The wet seal of your hole around his fingers is a sight, walls molding to the intrusion. He stokes a fire in your belly, simmering beneath the bandage, finally cajoling words from your mouth. Your voice, saturated with desperation, begs for more.                                                                                

Simon’s hand grasps your neck, giving it a squeeze in time with a thrust of his fingers. Greedy boy. You always want more. More jabs. He punctuates with a deep plunge and vulgar squelch. More attention. More me.

His mouth latches over your neck and suckles, groans muffled when you clench around his digits. He breaks the suction with a wet pop, trailing his spit to a lobe. Had a feeling when you started booking me. Didn’t think much of it. 

He extracts his fingers at the early pulses of your orgasm, spanking the wet tissue with a few harsh pats. You’re fuckin’ annoying. He chuckles at the ease of his fingers’ reentry into the tight clasp of your cunt. But you’re good like this, aren’t you.

He repeats the process twice. Gets you twitching, squirming in his lap. The blunt shape of his erection digs into your bare skin, the denim chafing. Half-consciously, you ride it, trying to rut back into it as he fucks his fingers in, thumb minding your cock. A hand migrates to the bulge of his forearm through your shirt, and the sweat on the palm leeches into the cotton.

He grunts into your ear between sloppy kisses to your jaw and neck. His thumb presses the flushed tip of your cock once, reminding you of his plans. The metal he wants you to wear. Leagues more intimate than any collar or ring. The thought makes you twitch, makes your hole clench.

Simon’s grip on your neck loosens, climbing to your jaw, holding your face straight to the mirror. His eyelids curtain blown pupils, licking a line on your skin. Let go, pretty. Be a good boy and cum on my fingers. The command triggers detonation, your orgasm obliterating the vestiges of your self-control. Hard, fast, and white-hot, it rips out of you in a pitchy cry, hands scrabbling at his thigh and arm, certain you’ll ascend heavenward too early. He holds fast, fingers secure in the vise of your cunt as it tries to fruitlessly milk honey from their stone.

Mind fuzzy with static at its edges, you hear him mutter. All you get is a moment’s rest before you find yourself upended, dragged bodily off the floor, supported by his arms. You ragdoll a second, jerking when your toes drag, and he settles you back on the lifted cot. Your eyes loll in their sockets, blinking, finding sudden clarity when his hips knock your knees apart. His cock, heavy and leaking, rests on the cradle of his opened zipper and juts into the meat of your leg. You tense. The light glints off the row of barbells adorning his length, and your breath catches. If his girth didn’t intimidate you, the ladder did.

What? Afraid it’ll hurt? He drags a thumb slowly over the raised ridges, the metal lying beneath the surface. His gloved hand grips the crease of your thigh, thumb resting above the crown of your engorged clit, caressing the damp hair. He strokes himself with the other, hissing through the first few pumps. You inhale as he slaps his cock, already slick with your release and his precum, against your sensitive flesh. It catches your tip, then briefly the mouth of your soaked cunt, garnering a whimpering protest out of you. Not today. Promise.

Sweat and cum coat his fingers as he pushes his cock to yours, gradually finding a course and a rhythm. The heat of him is heavy, the smooth ends of his piercings drumming along your cock and skin. It’s embarrassing how quickly Simon wrests a second orgasm out of you, mortifying when he breathlessly comments he wishes you squirted, that he loves a mess. It’s not as all-encompassing as the first and doesn’t threaten to rattle you off the table. You’re lucid when he notches his tip to your fluttering hole. Fuck, need a taste, jus' the tip.

Simon’s thrusts are shallow and controlled—enough to drown out the alarm bells, illustrating the power held back. The blunt head stretches with a slight burn despite his fingers and the mess of your cunt. To your relief, he keeps his word, means it, just the tip. He pulls back a half-step, a choked groan preceding the thick ropes of spend he spills over your inner thighs. He releases his softening length, hand planting on the bed, and leans into your space. His head skims your shoulder, gathered beads of sweat fall from his temple, ragged breaths subsiding into quiet puffs. He withdraws, lips ghosting over your cheek, and turns to the acrylic cubbies. 

Simon cleans and tucks himself away first, then you, amused by your squirming. He retrieves your clothes and insists on holding your underwear and jeans for you to step into. You swallow your pride to let him help. Aftershocks ripple through your thighs, the muscles and nerves pulverized into gelatin, malleable from his touch. He adjusts the packer, drags a knuckle over the fly seam, then holds you close with a finger hooked in a belt loop.

After all that, he asks if you want the piercing now that you understand the placement. He can pencil you in a month from now.

You don’t miss how the suggested date falls on a Friday evening. You tell him you need to think about it. It’s quite the commitment, from what you’ve learned.

Simon unlocks the door as you gather your jacket from the waiting area out front. Bars the exit with an arm, an aftercare kit dangling between two fingers. You pluck it from him, meeting his eyes over the fresh surgical mask.

My Johnny loves his Duke. Could show you, might change your mind.

[xximpressions]

The Duchess (6)

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.

Chapter Summary: A confrontation

Word Count: 1,011

Bridgerton Masterlist

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The shift in Anthony’s stance was subtle enough that the unassuming passerby would not have noticed it.

But because it perfectly mirrored the way he stood before you on the night you had met all those weeks ago, your mind could not help but take notice of his slight repositioning.

Your mind also could not help but notice that in the moment it took for Anthony to protectively move in front of you, his demeanor had gone from warm and friendly to cold and unfeeling as he stared hard daggers at the man still standing in front of you both.

With an edge of steel to his voice, your former rescuer began to speak.

“I do not believe we were properly introduced the last time we met. I am Viscount Bridgerton.” He announced with a touch of hostility.

Pausing to give your brother-in-law a noticeable onceover, Anthony continued by asking with a note of disdain,

“And who might you be?”

As if the Viscount's obvious dislike amused him, the man who still had the stench of a brewery following him began to smile spitefully as he spoke.

“Who am I? Oh, well I would be a Duke by now…”

Glaring over Anthony’s shoulder into your unafraid eyes, he finished by quietly seething, 

“...If she had just married me. Then everything would have gone according to plan.”

After taking a step into his line of view, the Viscount had your brother-in-law’s attention once more.

“Well fortunately for her, it did not,” he said with a glare of his own. “Now if you will excuse us.”

Holding his hand out to you, Anthony respectfully said,

“My Lady,”

As he waited for you to take it.

Placing your hand in his without removing your gaze from the despicable man in front of you meant you saw how his eyes took notice of such a gesture.

Narrowing his eyes, your brother-in-law bitterly said,

“As I recall it, you were rather fussy about being called by your proper title the last time we met, your Grace.”

Arching a simple brow, you calmly responded by saying,

“What may be a title for some, good sir, can simply be a true statement for others.”

And flashed him a cold smile as you did so.

Without waiting to see his reaction, you deliberately turned your eyes to the Viscount in order to show him you were ready to take your leave with a brief nod of your head.

But before you and Anthony could turn to make your departure, the jealous man before you accusingly stated with suspicion,

“Ah, so she has seduced yet another man of station, has she?”

Upon hearing such insulting words, you suddenly had to be on hand to hold the Viscount back when he abruptly turned to advance on the one spewing rumors that could possibly ruin your reputation. But it luckily was not needed when a firm hand clasped down on Anthony’s other shoulder.

“I do not believe that is any way to speak in front of a Lady,” 

Said Simon, as he kept his friend from making a scene while also addressing your brother-in-law with a regal authority.

Your surprise at seeing him—and seeing him defend you—only doubled when you felt the approach of his wife on your other side as she said,

“Indeed, your Grace. It is very curious that he wonders why those of us who are Dukes and Duchesses do not consider him to be a true gentleman.”

Feeling the unwavering support of your rescuer, his friend, and his sister surrounding you made it easier for you to promptingly say with confidence,

“I believe this man was actually just leaving, Duchess.”

Realizing that he was now not only outranked, but also outnumbered, your brother-in-law decided to take the time to throw one more glare in your direction before finally skulking away into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, it was Daphne who turned to you and worriedly said,

“Are you okay? We wanted to make sure everything was alright when we saw how serious you both looked while talking to that man. Who was he?”

Full of exasperation for the situation, you explained by saying,

“Long story short, he is my brother-in-law and he will not stop coming after me until I agree to marry him.”

Raising a soothing hand to your temple, you were speaking more to yourself than anyone else when you said under your breath,

“I suppose I will have to become a recluse in order to avoid him now.”

“Nonsense!”

The Duke ended up continuing as you turned to look at him with surprise once more.

“We will not hear of such a thing. Why not join us at Clyvedon? It is our estate in the country and it would be the perfect place to get away from prying eyes for a while.”

And before you could answer, Daphne had taken your unoccupied hand as she excitedly pleaded,

“Do join us! We could invite the whole family and I just know Hyacinth would love to see you again.”

The thought of spending time in the girl’s company along with everyone else the Bridgerton’s considered to be family did make you intrigued enough to want to go.

But you still were not convinced as you said with a bit of bashfulness, 

“Oh, I am not sure. I would hate to impose on a family gathering.”

You had unintentionally deflated a little as you said this, but a sudden squeeze reminded you that Anthony was still holding your other hand and forced you to turn in his direction as he sincerely spoke.

“We would be absolutely honored to host you along with our family,”

Giving a bow of his head, he finished with,

“My Lady.”

While flashing a teasing smirk your way as he did so.

Unable to formulate a proper thought in time, you looked at the three pairs of expectant eyes watching you and gratefully smiled as you decided to say,

“Then I would love to attend.”

And received three smiles in return.

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[ggomos-maribat]

6 | lost

Part 6 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

CW: Depressive thoughts

After Alfred's badgering, Bruce finally retreated from the dark confines of the Batcave and brought his work up to the manor's dining room. The stack of papers rustled as he spread them on the wooden surface, and his laptop lit up again with the dust on the screen more evident in the light. Bruce rolled up his sleeves and began to read again.

In entered Duke.

"Hey B. Coffee?" His second youngest offered.

"A cup please, Duke. Thank you," said Bruce without looking up.

"What's that?"

Bruce let himself lean back a little. Perhaps Duke could give his thoughts on his search? "Remember the akumas from Paris?" He stretched his arms. "After Hawkmoth's defeat, the two heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir disappeared from the public's eye without prior notice. The League tried to track them down for a short while, but we came up with nothing."

"Why do you need to find them?" Duke quizzed.

Bruce stared at the photos of two blurs: one in red, one in black. It was no mistake that the two heroes had been on the younger side when they first started, and yet they lasted through the long battle with a terrorist. "Firstly, we barely know anything about the Miraculous and Hawkmoth's actual motives. Ladybug did announce that Hawkmoth had been caught and promised that he would be facing consequences, but she denied everyone of any other information. Secondly, we want to be allies with them, or associates at least."

Bruce heard the clinking of metal to ceramic as Duke stirred the drinks. "It's not the first time a set of magical powers are hidden away to protect those powers, right?"

"Right." Bruce nodded. "Our problem with the Paris situation is that it happened under our noses for years, and we hadn't caught on until it was over. We want to keep the same thing from happening again."

It's mostly regret. Guilt, Bruce wanted to say. It was too late when we noticed an entire city suffering. The things they dealt with were in the levels of world threats. He remembered waking up to the news that shook the entire world, not having time to register it since the Justice League needed to take immediate action.

"Is that the same thing Dick's going crazy about since he came back here?" Duke set down the cups on the table, pulling a seat for himself beside Bruce.

"It's a different but not completely unrelated issue," Bruce replied. He was also hoping some clue from the case would turn up for the benefit of his search. It was partly the reason he let Tim and Jason go to Paris.

"Hm. Any leads from Constantine?"

"Only chunks of indecipherable texts related to the Miraculi." Bruce showed him a picture of the strange symbols from a book called 'the Grimoire'. "He's convinced that the current Guardian of the Miraculous is Ladybug herself."

"What about Aunt Diana?"

"Her mother has had prior connections with the Ladybug Miraculous before, but they lost contact a long time ago. Diana's helping with my search as well."

"Sounds like a dead end." Duke sipped on his drink.

"It's not strictly an urgent case, but it's important nonetheless." Bruce skimmed over his notes. "Even with the thousands of photos of Ladybug and Chat Noir, the Miraculous Magic is able to hide their real identities very well and no existing accounts of a civilian contact exist. Well, briefly there was one about Lilia Ross, but she denied it after a while."

"What if you retrace the heroes' steps and try to figure out Hawkmoth's identity instead? If the heroes found him out, maybe that's an easier angle," Duke suggested.

It's a good strategy. But how far will it actually take the search?

"Thank you, Duke," Bruce cleared his throat. "I'll give Tim a call."

***

Meanwhile, deep under the manor, Damian strolled into the cave to find Dick finishing the call with their brother. The youngest Wayne took a seat in front of him. "What did you tell Drake?"

"I asked them to ask Adrien Agreste about his cousin, Felix Fathom," Dick answered. "He was in Paris on the day Marinette was found."

"Are you suspecting him for murder?"

"What? No," Dick said, "I'm just considering him to be someone with information, since he has been involved with Hawkmoth and akumas before."

". . . And what does that have to do with her death?"

"It's all part of Tim's theory, that maybe Hawkmoth was targeting Marinette. Felix had a lot of trips to Paris at the time with unclear purposes. Sure, we can say he's just there to visit Adrien but the timing is off."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Would he not be comforting his cousin because Adrien lost a friend?"

"Call it a hunch, okay? It's a lead . . . aha!"

Dick held his breath—he'd just received a response from Barbara, from a request he made for the investigation. She was able to dig up the lost evidence and compile the translated file and send it to him. Oracle, you're a godsend, Dick praised.

"What's that?" Damian asked.

"I snooped around in the digital archives of the investigation team at that time." He anxiously tapped on the tablet, and sent the file to the Batcomputer for viewing. "Turns out they lost file of a key evidence to Marinette's death: her diary. The original copy went missing from the office some time ago."

The screen showed scanned pages of the diary—the words were written on lined pages in Marinette's neat handwriting, and the shape of the paper was somewhat curved. On the side of the photo was the re-typed French text, and then the translated English. The first entry was dated about three years before her death. Dick scrolled down to the last page and found that the last entry was on April fifteenth, just before her body was found by the bridge.

"Why didn't you tell Todd and Drake about this?" Damian leaned on the table to get a good look at the entry.

"I want to put together my findings here before I tell them." Dick sighed in frustration. "I really should've went to Paris too."

I have no choice but to help with the investigation from afar. He slowly and carefully read through the last entry, guessing that it should give them the most clues about her death.

15 April

These days I've been feeling 'free'. T says it's because I've been liberated at last and I've only begun feeling it now. I don't know if it's supposed to be like this. Maybe it's my way of adjusting to something new. Yes, it's a big leap, I know, but T will be there for me. T's strangely very optimistic about it. Years ago I wouldn't have thought that this will be the person I'll be. I guess time passes faster when you're older?

Dick stopped reading. Her writing is unexpectedly . . . heavy. It was like she'd already seen so much horrors in her life. He almost felt like an intruder in her thoughts.

He forced himself to keep reading.

'Freedom' feels a bit empty? Or lonely? T says it's the trauma. Adrien says that emptiness will get filled in soon. Apparently, it's the same thing he felt when his mother disappeared. If this is exactly it, I want to go back in time and comfort the younger Adrien. Maybe if you stay too long in chaos, you get used to it and find the calm strange. I hope that turns around for me soon.

The words cut off at that part.

"That's it?" Dick blinked a few times. "That's the end of it?"

"T . . . This 'T' person," Damian thought out loud. "There isn't anyone close to Marinette whose name starts with 'T', except for her father." He took over briefly and scrolled through the other pages. "But in other entries she only refers to her father as 'papa'."

"It could be 'T' for Kagami Tsurugi but the entries started way before they met," Dick added, "Also, she refers to Kagami as just 'Kagami' here, it looks like."

"So this person is another confidant of Marinette's that her friends and family likely had no idea about, and could be involved in her death."

"Assisted suicide? Is this why the police declared it a suicide?"

"It's not exactly a suicide note," Damian crossed his arms. "No farewell, or mentions of leaving possessions behind . . . If anything, it seems like she was actually hopeful for recovery, maybe from the emotional distress caused by Hawkmoth's actions in Paris."

Did we actually end up with more questions than answers? Dick wondered.

"Tim said something about Lilia Ross' transfer to their school having an effect on her that time. Let's see . . . " Dick skimmed through the entries to find a handful written a few years back:

8 November

They left me alone  in downtown Gotham.

I can't believe they'd do that. I told them I had to fill out some forms in the museum and...they got on the bus without me. I wish Adrien were here. I had to ask help from the front desk and they kindly got a taxi for me back to the hotel. What is Bustier thinking? Will anyone be on my side if I speak up about it?

No.

Probably not.

It will be more of a burden if I do. I keep telling T I'll be fine. I just have to get through one more day and we'll be back in Paris soon. Someday I'll visit Gotham on my own again and dispel these bad memories.

"What the fuck?" Dick whispered. Even if the class or Lilia Ross had nothing to do with her death, this proved that they weren't faultless either. How could this have happened without anyone from WE noticing? Who the hell leaves a teenager alone in an unfamiliar crime-ridden city?

"Grayson," Damian snapped him back to reality.

He sighed and switched to another entry.

13 May

T says I have to go to bed but I almost forgot to write here. Nothing new happened today but my body feels so heavy. If I try to rest I either can't fall asleep or I end up dreading the days to come in my dreams  nightmares. Hawkmoth has been getting ruthless each week, it's crazy. Why can't he just stop? How much do we have to give him? Yesterday I had to fend off a butterfly. Then the day before that. Then the day before that. Then the month before. I don't know what to do.

Is being brave something inherent or does it come after I face my fears? T says I look brave. I don't feel like it though. Each risk I take, I actually get very scared. I'm not actually sure what would happen. I might look confident but I'm not. I wonder what everyone would think if they found that out about me. What would they say? Will they sympathize with me or will they refuse to believe it?

21 July

I'm happy to have Adrien to talk to now. I know he still has his hands tied, but it's getting easier to talk to him since last week. We both told each other that it had been a huge weight off our backs. This feels too good to be true. The younger me would've been ecstatic. I'm ecstatic now too, but for different reasons. I hugged Adrien very tightly this morning and told him 'thank you'. He hugged me back and whispered more 'thank yous'. It was sudden but we both knew what it was for. T helped me wipe my tears after.

Things are going to change from now on. Is it bad that I feel ready to face those changes because I have Adrien on my side now? I used to think he put too much faith in me before. No, even now. I used to be scared I won't live up to his perfect image of me. But now his trust is something I really need. I'll put my faith in him too.

How can her words be so vulnerable but so secretive at the same time? Marinette didn't seem to be straightforward in her writing, and yet she completely conveyed her thoughts and feelings. How much more do we have to read to get a clearer picture?

"This mystery person is strange," Damian concluded, "Our best chance at figuring their identity is to ask Agreste."

Dick nodded in agreement. "Looks like he has the most answers right now. It says she was almost akumatized multiple times too, which supports Tim's theory."

"Wasn't Hawkmoth caught before her death?"

"He might still have other ways," Dick considered. "Ladybug never clarified what exactly happened to him. How was he punished? Imprisonment? Weird magic ritual? Death? We don't know."

His phone suddenly buzzed at the same time that a notification appeared on the computer.

Another Lilia Ross scandal has blown up.

***

The first few rumors were matches being lit, and the one that assumed Lilia Ross to be a killer started a forest fire. This one was gasoline, Tim thought. Just as the internet was getting quiet, posts showed up again, this time attacking Lilia's company.

"So, someone saw pictures of Marinette's old clothes designs that she submitted for competitions," Tim recapped, while Jason listened beside him and Dick and Damian watched from the screen. "And compared them to Lilia Ross' current brand's designs. They look like carbon copies, but with just a few tweaks. Now Lilia's being accused as a thief. Others are saying more of the designs were stolen by Lilia, based on the accounts of their old schoolmates."

"It should be recounted in her diary if there was theft," Damian chimed in.

"Diary, what diary?" Jason asked.

The screen pinged, receiving an encrypted file from Dick. "Babs found a digital copy of her diary that the police used to keep, but the original one went missing. There's a lot of things here, including accounts of what Lila did and said in their class."

"There. February first," Dick pointed out as soon as Jason scrolled to it on their screen.

1 February

My missing sketchbook returned to me in my locker. There were tears on the paper and burn marks and liquid stains and pages ripped out and pages crossed over with a black marker. It was one of the first sketchbooks I've ever completed and it's full of draft designs. How do I prove it's Lila's fault? I knew I shouldn't have left my bag in the room for that short while. I knew I shouldn't have brought it to school.

I want to throw it out.

T says I should keep it, and use it to finally shed the truth on her.

But what evidence do I have? Is this enough to make her face the consequences?

I locked it away under my bed. Whatever. I'll fill up another sketchbook. I'll remake the designs. If Lila sees me crying over it, she wins. If the world sees me crying, Hawkmoth wins. If I fight back, they get the upper hand anyway. I just have to be more careful next time. It was just hard not to let my emotions spill when I found it. Lila was nearby waiting for my reaction earlier, I know it. She seemed proud of what she had done.

"What the fuck?" Jason seethed, "She stole her designs!"

Tim's lips drew into a thin line. Was this what Marinette had been feeling the whole time? He couldn't imagine it . . . the suppressed emotions, the feelings of helplessness, the manipulation. She readily gave up.

"Who's 'T'?" Tim brought up the other point about the diary entry nagging at him.

"Some friend of Marinette's who's always mentioned in this diary," Damian replied, "They seem to be very close."

"Does that ring a bell for you?" Dick leaned in.

"No, not at all. Is it a codename? An online friend maybe?"

"Based on this diary, T is always close to her, like, physically."

"Is it . . . a psychological thing?" Jason said softly.

"I wouldn't immediately conclude that." It was already in Tim's jumbled thoughts—a guess. A wild guess. "With the Miraculi in Paris . . . " He sucked in a breath. "Fuck. Ladybug's kwami's name was . . ."

The others seemed to realize it too at that second.

A muffled buzz rang out.

"I got a message," Dick suddenly said, frowning. "It's Babs. She says she found who ordered the investigation to be closed."

"Who?"

"Adrien . . . it was Adrien Agreste." 

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo@missmadwoman@afanofmanyships@atomicherringpersonjudge-blog@wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

[darkphoenix5037]

Hitta

Welp here is another one. This will be OT7(focus on Namjoon coz he is my bias, but bonds will be formed with others too) with A/B/O dynamics, Vikings influences, with badass but slightly low-esteem oc, stray kids as her platonic family, battle, blood, revenge, game of thrones-esque plot, death and lots of sex.

It will be multi chaptered.

Please share your thoughts and let me know what you think.

P.S. The title means 'to find' in old norse.

SUMMARY- You never really thought that your destiny would take you so far away from home.

CHAPTER 1|CHAPTER-2

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

It rains the day you lay eyes on your intended.

In the blood-stained field in front of the castle that you call your home stands him, Kim Namjoon, the biggest warlord the world had ever witnessed. His army consisted of thousands even millions, those savages, as the south would like to call them, were more powerful and disciplined than any army you had ever seen. Their troops were roguish in looks, yes, but their skill in battle was no joke.

Kim Namjoon’s skill in battle was no joke. He fought bare-chested with an axe and a sword; you had heard that he could cut down men with a single sweep of his sword. He was a true demon in battle, as most raiders were, but his skills put the best warriors in your homeland’s army to shame. His great heathen army slaughtered your king’s army by thousands every day, other than leaving hundreds of men injured.

You would know as the chief healer, stitching wounds, cauterizing them, applying salve to burns, cuts were fine. Holding the hands of dying soldiers as they hallucinated their mothers, lovers, wives and sisters was not, not even for someone like you who was used to blood, battle and death.

But you pushed on, for the king, for the country, for the people, you worked day and night you pushed on.

These days the workload had been increased as the king had no taken to treat the prisoners of war as well. The injured and the dying of the heathen army were brought to the camps to get medical assistance if possible and the injured ones were returned to their camps and the dead were returned to the opposing army with respect.

You were not thankful for the workload but what could you do, the king commands and the rest follow.

You were not thankful for the workload but you applauded your king’s nobility nonetheless. Your brother, Christopher Bang was nothing if not noble and kind and humble. Maybe that was why his army were ready to die and kill for him. Maybe it was because he thought of all as equal, be it the duke or the beggar’s son, Alpha, Omega or Beta everyone was equal in the eyes of your Alpha brother.

Maybe that was why you, an Omega, were working in an army camp filled with betas and alphas at all times of the night and day. Maybe that’s why you as an omega, could kill and maim as well as any alpha.

He was strong, your brother, but too kind, too truthful and too righteous for the world that he was in, younger than you but still on the throne for the gods gave him a cock and the second gender of an alpha and you a cunt and the curse of being an omega.

You weren’t brother and sister by blood, you were the orphan the previous king found on a hunting trip, half feral, in the jungle, at the age of seven.  You were brought to the castle, Christopher took one look at your small, slight frame, for he was a giant to you even at the age of five, and decided that you would be his noona. You took his hand and resolved to protect him forever. Nothing much was needed after that.

He deserved better though, you thought. Better than this wretched war and that godforsaken alpha Kim Namjoon who is intent on busting down the doors of your home.

Your name being called out draws you out of your mental reverie.

“Princess, the king calls for you at the front.” Ser Seo Changbin of your brother’s personal guard says.

You finish stitching the heathen soldier’s wound and apply salve and bandage before patting him roughly on the shoulder and getting up.

“What is it?”

“The king calls for you. He did not tell me the reason, your grace.”

You gesture ser Changbin to head the way as you follow him to the wall where your royal brother awaits you. He turns towards you as you come near.

“Leave us.” He commands.

“Is everything alright, my king?”

“Call me Chris, sister, how many do I have to repeat that?” he says.

“When we are alone, my king.”

He sighs, but motions to the battlefield, a far away look in his eyes as he looks down upon the ruin the battle has caused on the once green fields.

“We are not going to be able to defend ourselves for much longer if this goes on, sister, Kim Namjoon gets closer to defeating us every day. We cannot keep going for much longer.” He says. He sounds tired, too tired for someone his age.

“Why don’t you sit on the war council with me sister, we could use your skills?”

“You know why, you might not mind your omega sister, one of common blood at that running around with a sword in her hand, but others do. Alphas do, I would rather die than let anyone of them insult you again after what happened. You know better.” You spoke.

He sighed heavily.

You look at your younger brother, he looks as though the weight of the world sits on his shoulders. It does in some way, you think, this kingdom, as large as it is, it is your world.

His world.

He fights for it today, for its very existence.

Of course, the weight of this responsibility weighs him down. He is fighting, not only for his kingdom, but his world, his home.

“Is it time that we seek a truce with them?” You ask.

“We have no leverage; he knows he can defeat us. He needn’t sue for peace to ask for anything, he can take it, all of it.”

The sun has gone down, you see the enemy camp at a distance, its torches shine bright.

“Then we can only hope to reach stalemate, Chan-ah” You call him by the name your mother called him when she was alive and try to calm him down with your scent.

“I hope so”

He suddenly seizes you by the shoulders and says, “Stay near the battle field tomorrow, sister, I feel that tomorrow might be the day- “he stops, his hands trembling slightly.

“I need you by my side noona, I need you there, the troops need their lioness. I need you, We need you. It could be tomorrow that that godforsaken man would break down the doors of the castle. I don’t care about what happened five years ago on that wretched battlefield. I care about now, about today.”

You looked in the distance. Towards the enemy camp and remembered the amount of injured and dead on your hands, the heavy losses and the weeping mothers, fathers, daughters, sons and wives. You had to be there, if not for your sake then for the sake of your country.

“I will be there Chan-ah. Noona will watch over you. Ask my personal 300 to report.”

He takes you in his arms after that, keeping you in his embrace and you let your forehead rest on his broad chest. He holds you tight enough and breaths your scent in, as if you are the only thing keeping him grounded.

Nothing is said after that, as both of you silently carry the fear of tomorrow in your hearts.

…………………………….

The next day clouds gather in the sky as you don your armour.

You hadn’t stepped in the battle field not since the last war, not after what happened five years ago.

Blood.

All that you could see was blood, it stained everything in sight.

Your hand, your face, your armour, the field around you.

There was a strange ringing in your ears, you moved forward regardless, your axe cutting down everyone and everything that stood in front of you.

A voice called.

You knew that voice.

It was coming nearer.

The person was in front of you.

You swung the axe, but people were suddenly holding you back, you could not move.

The voice was closer, louder, shouting.

“Noona”

You gasped as if you had just broken the surface of the water in the lake and looked around.

You saw worried and slightly horrified looks. You saw your brother looking at you, scared and unsure.

In your daze, in your state of berserk, you had tried to kill your brother.

You hadn’t stepped in war since. You were afraid to lose control, afraid that you would kill your own men in that state.

Being a berserker was not easy, the warrior lost themselves in that state, all that mattered was killing, not injury, not pain, not fatigue, just death. You had been stabbed in the arm and calf that day but you had not stopped your killing spree regardless. The title of lioness bestowed upon you that day and your fame as a berserker had spread far and wide.

Stories were told about the omega berserker who had lost herself and battle and killed half a million people in a single day, who had won the war in a single day. No one had dared to attack your homeland after that, until now.

So, for the sake of the king, your brother, and your people you don the armour you had abandoned.

You sighed and headed to your horse, and followed your brother to the battlefield.

………………………………..

[spider-jaysart]

Headcanons for my Batkids Young age au part 4:

Batkids ages:

Damian: 5 years old

Tim: 9 years old

Jason: 12 years old

Duke: 7 years old

Cassandra: 8 years old

Stephanie: 9 years old

Dick: 15 years old

Superkids ages:

Jon: 5 years old

Kon: 9 years old

Little Damian is easy to distract with the animal discovery channel since he loves it, due to his trait of being an animal lover, especially cartoon shows that have animals as characters in it, but if anyone tries to steal the living room remote and change the channel, he will get upset and give a really big tantrum until they change it back

Jon tried pretending to be a puppy one time after wondering what it was like for Krypto, so he would always be trying to make cute little fake barks, eating his food with his mouth instead of his hands or fork and spoon (though, Lois made sure to remind him about table manners), and he would also always be playing with Krypto outside in the backyard on his hands and feet too, running around all over the dirty ground like that, which would dirty him and his clothes up, giving Clark and Lois extra, unnecessary laundry to do. Though, thankfully for his parents after almost a month of this little act of his, Jon stopped doing it after deciding that he liked living like a human better

All of the Batkids always ask Dick for piggyback rides

When Kon had came over to meet baby Jon for the first time, he was a little jealous at first at the thought of a sibling taking over his place as the new child in the family but after finally meeting Jon, those bitter emotions left him and he instantly grew to love the little half Kryptonian. He also began to enjoy spending time with little Jon, enjoying their fun times together, he later on realized that maybe having a sibling instead of being an only child probably wasn't so bad after all

Damian likes to paint on Tim's face sometimes when he's asleep and hides once he wakes up, since he'll know that it was definitely him, since it's not the first time that he usually does this to his big brother

Duke has a favorite lion plushie that helps him feel safe whenever he's having a nightmare or can't sleep at night. Though, during a loud stormy night outside the Manor, Duke, after going downstairs with his plushie to go grab some of Alfred's delicious chocolate chip cookies, bumped into little Damian in the hallway upstairs. He could see that the boy that was usually a tough one, was slightly shaking and had a bit of an almost fearful expression on his face. Duke, who was curious, asked his little brother what he was doing walking around the halls so late, though, Damian, who didn't want to look like a coward, just replied saying that he was just looking for Titus since he had left the room. Duke knew he wasn't being honest though, since he had seen the puppy peacefully sound asleep in the boy wonders bedroom while passing by after coming upstairs and before he could say anything about it, a loud thunder struck outside, creating a loud sound, made Damian jump in front of Duke, revealing how scared he was feeling, so after seeing the reaction of his little brother, he asks him if he's scared of the thunderstorm that's going on, but Damian cuts him off, telling him that he is being ridiculous, since he isn't afraid of anything, which Duke knew wasn't really true at the moment. After a few seconds of Damian still trying to deny that he was actually scared while Duke was telling him that he obviously was, Damian jumped up in fear once again, due to another thunder strike that had happened at that very moment, so Duke, who can see that he was obviously scared, gives Damian his favorite trusted lion plushie and hands him one of the cookies that he had gotten from downstairs, telling Damian "Here, you can have Liony, he's good at protecting you when you're scared." Damian, hesitantly, as he's hugging Liony the plushie tightly in his arms, asks Duke "But what about you? How are you gonna fall asleep without him?", since he knows that it's his favorite plushie, but Duke tells him that he will be fine and that he needs him more than he does and that's what Liony is there for anyways, to make sure everyone's safe. He also offers that if he wanted, he could sleep in his room for the night if he wanted and and that they could even hang out the whole night while he holds onto Liony, which Damian accepts. So they spend the whole night in Duke's room having a fun time together, building a little fort with the beds pillows and blanket sheets, then sitting in it with their flash lights on once they're done, while eating their chocolate chip cookies, talking and quietly laughing the whole night together. Later on in the early morning, Bruce and Alfred, while checking up on the two young brothers in the room, see the sweet sight of them both asleep in their fort together, both hugging eachother and Liony the brave plushie who was in the middle. A warm smile grows on both of the men's faces as they both quietly leave the room and gently close the door so that they won't wake them from their peaceful sleep

@theredheaded-stuff @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 @camo-wolf

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Underworld {4} || Dimitri Belikov

Dimitri Belikov x dhampir!f!reader Summary: After a successful hunt it is time to celebrate. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, mentions of death WC: 2.4k

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5

The silence was comfortable as you made your way to your apartment and you were glad he wasn’t one of those men who felt the need to always talk just to hear the sound of their own voice. He merely kept pace at your side and waited patiently as you entered the pincode to your door. 

Life underground would have been claustrophobic if it wasn’t for the screens set into the walls, images of the world outside filling them to almost give the feeling that they were just windows. 

“Security or aesthetic?” he asked as he recognised the forest that lay beyond the wards.

You disappeared into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit but Dimitri took it from you and pointed to the small kitchen table with two chairs. “Both,” you finally answered as you pulled your jacket off and sat down. “We don’t have the blessing of the High Priestess to get proper wards, just what the Elementalists who live here can put together. They are enough to give us warning of an attack but not enough to stop it.”

Dimitri frowned while he unpacked the first aid kit and began cleaning your wound. “I haven’t heard of the Underworld being attacked.”

“There hasn’t been one in the last decade, not since the hunters took up permanent residence here.” You hissed as the rubbing alcohol touched the broken skin but held back the string of curses you would have aimed at Dimitri. “The strigoi aren’t stupid enough to try.”

His lips parted with a question but then he closed them and shook his head as if he didn’t want to ask, or didn’t know how to. After a deep breath he finally got the courage. “How many?”

“Twelve.”

His face pinched and you took the bandage from his hand as he sat rooted to the spot, the calm before the storm. “You wasted the lives of twelve guardia– twelve dhampirs. Was it worth it? To right some wrong against you? For vengeance?” 

You dropped the bandage and forgot it as it unravelled, falling to the floor and rolling away. “It’s nice to see that your faith in us is so little, and I didn’t waste a single dhampir’s life. And that wrong I am trying to right, that I am trying to stop from repeating itself, was...” You cut yourself off with sharp intake of breath and pointed to the door, turning your back as you reached to get a fresh bandage and hid the tears that pricked your eyes. “Get back to your self-righteous side of the tracks, Dimitri.”

The door slammed shut a moment later and you angrily wrapped your arm before changing into fresh clothes, a long sleeve shirt covering the white gauze. It hurt you more than you would care to admit, seeing the condemnation in his eyes. Maybe you were wrong and he wasn’t the man you thought he was, the one that would fit in your world.

Sam was dragging Duke and Zane down the hall singing a bawdy song and skipping merrily when she came across Dimitri. He was a storm to be reckoned with and Duke immediately stepped in front of Sam in a protective stance. Just as quickly as she was blocked, she sidestepped Duke and forced Dimitri to stop or knock her down.

“What happened?” she asked, knowing exactly what room the guardian had come from.

“How can you all be so happy when you lost twelve of your own tonight?” Dimitri growled and Sam narrowed her eyes at him.

Duke draped an arm over her shoulder and gave him a shiteating grin. “We didn’t lose anyone, none of the teams did. We took out twelve of those fuckers and saved six hostages. Viktor’s team killed another eight. Tell me, when was the last time your precious guardians did something like that?”

Dimitri swallowed and looked away ashamed. Sam felt bad for him, he was obviously feeling guilty about what happened in your room. Cutting him some slack, she slipped out of Duke’s arm and looped hers into Dimitri’s. “You guys go get ready for the celebration, I’ll catch up.”

Duke looked like he wanted to argue but Zane gave him a shove and then continued to their apartments, leaving Sam and Dimitri alone in the hall. “There’s something you should see.”

It was a short walk to the meadow. It was a cavern that had been blessed by strong elementalists so that it was always full of life. The magic that had been bestowed upon it was old, so old that few remembered the spells now. It was this magic that allowed a stream to bubble quietly through the meadow of lush green grass, earth and water magic. Air and fire magic worked cohesively to keep the room brightly lit and warm despite never seeing a lick of daylight. 

“What is this place?” Dimitri asked as he took it all in, especially the names carved into the stone walls. 

“There’s no official name for it but it was made for us,” said Sam. She walked over to the wall and brushed her fingers over the names, some carved centuries ago, some were just there months. “We have been called fanatics and glory seekers but that is not why any of us do it. We each know the risk of facing a strigoi, perhaps more than the guardians. 

“My sister was turned when she was protecting her Moroi, he was non-royal and so his family only had one guardian. There was nothing she could do when four strigoi attacked. Her greatest fear was to become one of them, and she had told me she would rather die.

“I hunted her down and saved her the only way I could.” Sam stopped beside her sister's name that she had carved in the stone, Florence. “I was to be sent to the communes because of it but y/n saved me, she heard what I did and knew I was made for more than breeding and blood whoring. She taught me how to embrace the darkness that would have festered inside me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Dimitri asked politely after digesting her heavy words, following her further along to where she stopped once again. 

“So you can stop asking yourself why anyone would choose to live one day at a time.” 

Dimitri stared at the names all carved with the same delicate style and shared your last name. He could see you there, gritting through the cramps in your hand as you spent hours chiselling the names of your family into the stone with the same fierce determination you did everything with. So many names. 

Sam reached into a natural shelf in the stone and held a small hammer and chisel out for him. They were surprisingly heavy in his hands or maybe that was just in his head as he felt the burden they bore. 

“I’ll wait outside,” Sam said as she left him in the meadow.

Dimitri blew away the stone dust that he had carved out and ran his fingers over the letters. Alexei. His best friend and his Moroi to protect. The tools clattered to the ground as he finished and he knelt in the grass, letting the permanence of his death finally take root in his chest. 

Dimitri hadn’t been allowed to the funeral because Alexei was royal, and he had been immediately assigned to another royal. They come first. Dimitri had followed his orders but he had never taken the time to grieve or let it settle in his soul that his best friend was gone, forever.

“Wash your hands and come along,” Sam said when Dimitri picked up the tools and placed them back on the shelf, “don’t want to be late to the party.”

Dimitri shook his head and replied quietly, “I’m not really in the partying mood.” He washed his hands in the stream and as he stood he felt the magic in the water shift something deep inside him. He stared at his fingers that were still tingling moments later and looked to Sam for the answer.

“Calming isn’t it.” She looped her arm in his once again and led him out of the meadow. “Trust me, this isn’t just a party.”

A fire was blazing in the centre of the room but no smoke and no heat radiated from the flames that the hunters gathered around. The ceremony may have been newer than the Death Watch but it was still something that had predated your grandfather's grandfather and then some according to the history books that dwelled in the archives.

Every team had gathered for the celebration so there were just shy of 50 hunters filling the room and a handful of Moroi that were needed for the rites. Even with the black masks you could still recognise the brothers and sisters who had fought by your side and you greeted them warmly as you made your way to the front, to where Boris and the other team leaders waited.

You nearly stumbled when you caught a pair of brown eyes staring back at you and your heels caught on the uneven stone floor. Strong hands steadied you and you swallowed as you saw pity in his eyes. 

“I’m going to kill her,” you muttered as you looked at Sam. 

“No you won’t,” Dimitri whispered in your ear, his hands still resting on your waist. “I think I understand now, or at least I am starting to.”

A whistle pierced the air and every dhampir winced at the sound before turning to face the front. You weren’t going to make it to Boris now so you stayed where you were, letting yourself enjoy the heat of Dimitri’s hands on your body. 

An old, long retired hunter called Maxon stepped forward and into the firelight, raising his scarred fist as his voice filled the huge cavern, “Tonight we celebrate the saved.”

The voice of every hunter was unified as you raised your fist in response. “To the saved.”

“Their souls freed with our courage and strength.” Maxon grabbed his stake that had kept him alive through the decades and drew it from the sheath on his hip. “Tonight we celebrate the living.” 

Dimitri was ready this time and his voice echoed in your ear, “To the living.”

Raising his stake to the roof, Maxon let his tears fall and glisten in the firelight. “Tonight we honour our fallen brothers and sisters, may their memory live on.”

The silver stakes reflected the flames as every dhampir lifted theirs up as you made your vows, “We will remember them.”

The magic that held the fire was released and the bonfire splintered into smaller flames that ignited the candles that were spread around the room. The ceremony was over and with a lighter heart, the real party would begin. 

“That’s it?” Dimitri asked when the din of the crowd rose the earth users opened the cavern walls to the private nightclub on the other side.

“As opposed to having a drink and tossing it in a fire?” you shot back with a smirk that quickly dropped. “If someone had died then it would have taken our stake and pierced our finger. Sacrificing a drop of blood to the flames, a small sacrifice for the greater one that they gave. Then an earth user would have inscribed their name to the bricks over there before the closest person to the fallen would bury their stake in the brick. A warrior's memorial.”

Dimitri followed your gaze to the back wall that he had thought was illuminated by little lights but they were the ends of stake handles. His feet carried him closer and he scanned the names and dates, surprised that most made it past the age of 50 and that they went back hundreds of years. 

“I thought the hunters only came here 10 years ago.”

“Hunters have always come to the Underworld,” you said with a shrug. “It was the only place that welcomed us even 400 years ago, but they were still largely nomadic. The strigoi numbers were low enough that they had to actively search for them across the globe. Now, there’s so many we don’t have to go more than a few hours away to find them.”

Dimtri ran a hand over his jaw and shook his head. “I still can’t believe this has stayed a secret.”

“We supposedly threaten the security of the royals by being proactive, if they are good for one thing it is protecting their interests. They make us sound like zealots for fear more guardians would abandon their roles and join us, not that it would matter.”

He crossed his arms and puffed his chest out. “You don’t think guardians would join the fight?”

You smiled at his defensiveness and circled him. “There are guardians and there are hunters. Just because a guardian can stake a strigoi when they are attacked doesn’t mean they can walk through the gates of hell and pick a fight with a den of them. It takes a special kind of fucked up for that.”

His eyes darkened as he turned and followed your steps, a slow dance of restraint. “The kind that comes with losing the people you love.”

Your eyes broke away from him to glare at Sam, your ability to find her among the crowd bordered on a sixth sense. “She had no right to tell you.”

Dimitri caught your chin and turned your attention back to him as his jaw ticked below the half mask he wore. “She didn’t tell me anything, she took me to the meadow.” He kissed the tender skin below your ear as he whispered, “When you are ready, I want to hear your story - everything, good and bad.”

You took a breath and stepped back before you fell completely for his charm, throwing him a carefree smile and offering your hand. “What I am ready for is a strong drink and an even stronger man. Is that something you can help me with?”

He laced his fingers with yours, letting you have the distance you needed to think on his words. Sweeping past you, he tightened his grip and wove through the crowd towards the bar in answer to your question. Sam cheered as she caught sight of you, raising her glass and mouthing sorry before she disappeared onto the dancefloor. 

Tomorrow, you would deal with her tomorrow. Tonight was to celebrate the living.

Click here for the next chapter.

[fireemblems24]

Azure Gleam Ch 7

Man . . . my "only use one unit" thing is really going to make this . . . interesting. . . .

STORY

Man, I use Dimitri, Rodrigue, and Dedue. And now all 3 are gone. Nooo. Whyyyyy. That's ok. I'll just grind Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix up a few levels if I can't catch them up bc Dimitri's MIA. If I can just give them a few levels, we'll be good lol.

So Sreng caused trouble, but not as much as it sounded like. Relief that Sylvain's dad is ok.

Yeah, they're luring Dimitri into something, aren't they? Cornelia? Is this why Dimitri's MIA? Story stuff.

Shez is like let's go Felix. I agree.

Unless this soldier is a liar.

Love seeing Felix get to call shots for real though.

Sylvain's like we have to get to Dimitri. Felix says Dimitri manages to give him a headache when he's not even around, lamo. Accurate. The Dimilix is strong in this one and I'm not angry about it.

MAP/SIDE BATTLE

Yep, like I thought, Rodrigue, Dedue, and Dimitri are gone. But I CAN level anyone up to 30 where Dimitri is, so I'm fine. I'll just give Shez and co a little boost. Plus, it's a good excuse to use Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain a bit. Mercedes too.

"King Awakens" is the chapter name. Looking forward to this. Something is obviously about to go down. I'm worried though. This is obviously a parallel to the AM chapter where Dimitri retakes Fhirdiad in AM, so what happens this time then?

Kinda torn about this. Some of me wants it to be another "Dimitri the good king" kinda moment, like a big positive growth thing going on for him. But another part of me wants Dimitri's proper villain arc. But I just don't see that happening unless they killed off Dedue and Rodrigue, but if that happened, I would've gotten more comments. Either way, I'm stoked about this.

Petra's thoughts on Sreng is interesting, esp since she called it peace between Brigid and the Empire despite her not willingly being there.

Man, I feel there is just so much more going on in this route than the other two, with Miklain, the mystery of what's happened to Dimitri, drama with Sreng and the Empire that's a consistent threat (and not like what just happened in GW).

Duke Ifan sounds like a badass, people are like "no way she'd let someone invade." I wish we'd get to see her, but since she's a woman she won't get a unique face, that's reserved for Dads only.

Felix's dialogue was interesting. It starts like he's repeating one of Dimitri's lines about the dead and ends with him understanding and sympathizing with Dimitri more now that he knows what it's like to lead.

I'm really interested to see where this leads for those two. I'm so happy Felix is getting all this attention. Man, my Dimilix heart is loving AG so far.

Of course it's Cornelia and the Western lords. They're the reason we haven't heard from Dimitri :(

So that bitch threatened the people and Dimitri surrendered to protect them 😭😭😭😭😭 Of course he did.

But if they haven't heard from Rodrigue or Dedue, that means they got away. Gilbert is probably ok too.

Will Dimitri still have two eyes after this? Or is he going to get one taken out again 😭😭😭

Shez is so worried 😭😭😭

Felix called him "our fearless leader" that's not the first time I don't think. You know, I'll take that over boar.

So we'll be doing the prison break this time. Cornelia better not have hurt him unlike last time. Or that this doesn't cause him to "snap," because this is like the only route that's different so far. I love that story line, but I want something new.

Oh, Dimitri. I wish he would just behead Cornelia. He could crush her head with his hands probably. You know the only reason he's not is to protect his people 😭😭😭😭😭

Rodrigue and Dedue are trying 😭😭 Don't worry, Felix, Shez, and everyone are coming.

She's boasting that she'll hang Dimitri in front of all of them. God, I can't wait to kill her. And get Dedue, Rodrigue, and Dimitri back.

I reallllly am dying to see this reunion. Felix is going to let Dimitri hear it lamo.

Lamo, Dimitri's like "I almost appreciate such bald faced sadism." Cornelia's like "such flirting."

She's also like "you deserve this for reforming things." What a bitch.

You know Dimitri is probably blaming himself for this. For pissing off the Western lords, who are unquestionably awful. Someone get in there before he gets too far into his own head 😭😭 Well, someone other than Cornelia, who sure loves to gloat. She's so evil. I love it.

Dimitri gets all the best villains Cornelia (hammy fun villain) and Edelgard (interesting, personal, complex villain) are wayyyy more cool than "exists" Nemesis and CF!Rhea (Rhea is awesome, but my God they made her one-dimensional in CF). Not gonna lie, though, it would be nice for Dimitri to get to punch TWSITD as a whole out on purpose and hoping this game will let him.

Catherine just mentioned Shamir. Is her girlfriend showing up soon? Please tell me they have supports in this game.

Poor Ashe's like "our King is suicidal." Poor dude can't catch a break this game.

Sylvain's ready to lecture Dimitri about his recklessness. Good.

SYLVAIN & MERCEDES B SUPPORT

This is their only one. I'm bummed.

The boys and girls are flirting!!

Mercedes is engaged? To someone from Gautier? It's just her father again.

Mercedes has no interest in this guy. It would've been pretty funny if she got engaged to some random guy lol.

Mercedes is a confirmed heart breaker, getting tons of proposals.

Sylvain just proposed to Mercedes lamo. He's offering to marry her just to block anyone else so Mercedes can live how she wants. 😭

HOW THE FUCK IS THAT THEIR ONLY SUPPORT 😭😭😭😭😭

They had, 1, 1 support, and it was a better romance story than most novels. 😭😭😭

The background music was so romantic too.

Guys, I propose all the Blue Lions just enter a poly marriage together, then I won't have to ever sort out all my ships.

SHEZ & INGRID B SUPPORT

So far just talking about some mercenary crew. Shez's old captain used to be in there.

This merc was super loyal to a noble and would help out with even farming and building stuff. Wonder where this is going.

Shez's whole point to this was telling Ingrid no one is tied to their role and can do what they want. The whole Ingrid struggling with being a noble and knight.

Oh, cool! Ingrid's grandmother knew Tobias. Nice tie in.

SYLVAIN & INGRID B SUPPORT

Oh, this is their first one!!!

Sylvain brought up someone acting up and Ingrid suspects Sylvain is talking about himself lamo. He's not.

Ingrid is just satisfied as fuck, because Sylvain now has to deal with someone like she used to have to deal with him, lamo.

Sylvain feels pressure to feel like the mature one of the group. Ah, that's cannon!!! Everyone always suspected he felt like he had to be the older brother to everyone.

Ingrid is just soaking this in. Queen deserves it.

Awww, Ingrid said she would've just abandoned him if she was really miserable and actually seemed to enjoy covering for Sylvain, on some level.

Basically the whole "we aren't kida nymore. We've grown up, hunh." Stuff. I love it. This is why you end up loving all of the Faerghus Four. Because they all build off each other soooo much.

HAPI & BERNADETTA C SUPPORT

Bernie's bug hunting. And when Hapi talks to her assumes Hapi's trying to kill her for no reason. So typical. Bernie is this close to being a good character is the game took her seriously.

They both enjoy carnivorous plants. I think Hapi just likes eating them though lamo.

Yep these two are not having the same conversation.

SHEZ & MERCEDES B SUPPORT

They worked together, and now are having a tea party together. Shez wanted to go out to eat. But Mercie is a lady of class and wants tea.

Mercie likes her sweets.

Ohhhh, Shez's mom incoming. The treats reminds Shez of something her mom used to make.

Sounds like Shez's mom lived the #cottagecore life, picking food from trees to make and living in a forest.

I think Mercie wants to live in the past days. She asks if Shez wants to and seems like she misses living with her mom 😭😭😭

Mercie. No. Why do all your supports get the sad face?

SHEZ & SYLVAIN B SUPPORT

Sylvain's studying magic hardcore. Probably to try and fix the Crest only gets access to super weapon thing.

Also gets to be the Sylvain is actually smart support.

Oh, classic fantasy trope, learning how to weaponize fireworks. Mat Cauthon says hi, Sylvain.

Sylvain's out here about to invent guns to Crests are useless. Empire, you guys are up shit creek if Sylvain invents guns, lamo.

I want guns, AG only route where everyone gets guns and this game ends realllllll fast.

Miklain and Sylvain have different moms?

Sylvain admires Sreng. Good. That's promising for the future.

Oh, Shez is actually smart! Recognizing that when the king shows power (lends Sylvain's family soldiers), then everyone else loses power.

Sylvain loves the Kingdom 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 he's like "he's a half-frozen stretch of dirt, but it's MY half-frozen stretch of dirt. And only home I've got."

Eat shit every "Sylvain makes so much sense in CF" person.

SHEZ & ASHE B SUPPORT

More Shez's mom talk. She thinks her mom was weird and mysterious.

Mystery mom was really smart, knew a lot, and knew magic.

I'm glad some of these are actually about Shez. Helps flesh her out so much. I actually really like Shez.

Awww, Ashe is going to help Shez investigate. Because he knows how it feels. Poor baby looked for info on his parents and couldn't find much. 😭😭😭

Blue Lions need a "sadness incoming" warning on all their supports, ISTG. Or maybe I'm just way too attached lamo.

Ashe is willing to visit the village with Shez in the future to help her find her mom.

This was so fucking wholesome, guys. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

SETETH & FLAYN B SUPPORT

I cannot believe they don't have an A support. Whyyyyy?

Seteth is like "Flayn, you're making yourself useful! How dare you!"

Man, it's weird hearing her call him brother.

Ok, I'll cut Seteth some slack. He's terrified Flayn will fall into an endless sleep again. Poor dude. Right when he lost his wife too.

This support would be so confusing to someone who didn't play Houses.

😭😭😭😭😭😭 Flayn is afraid of sleeping because of this. Poor, baby.

Oh, finally! She called him father 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Poor baby Flayn just wants peace.

They're also so scared of what will happen if they lose the war. Oh, God, I can't keep playing Edelgard's route.

"If I lost you, I'd love the very meaning of my life." - Seteth to Flayn.

Flayn's like I'll eventually grow up, dad. lol. But she won't leave him all alone.

Don't worry, Seteth. I will literally never leave you supportless.

MAIN BATTLE/STORY

Hyped for this one, guys.

I don't want to deal with Cornelia's weapons, ugh.

RODRIGUE AND GUSTAVE ARE OK 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Ifan is alright too. She sounds badass.

But what about Dedue? And Dimitri?

Man, Rodrigue is such a badass.

Western Lords aren't alone. Let me guess, TWSITD? And those two are creating a diversion?

Annette told Felix off, lamo. Saying they need to go help them out. But Felix just wants to rescue Dimitri.

But they know Dimitri won't leave the prison until the people are safe.

Ashe mentioning Dedue. All the points. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

See Felix take command like that does things to me.

Dedue and Rodrigue!!! They're back 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Cut scene in the middle of a battle.

Dimitri's like why did you show up. Idiot. He won't leave though 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 He's too worried about the people. Plus, he's Dimitri, so.

He's like Idk if I die. Dedue is like shut the fuck up, Dimitri. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 "I will not allow it." (is what he actually said and holy hell in a deep, badass voice) Dedue just told Dimitri off. Good. So now we know that Dedue can and will push Dimitri around if need be.

And then hand holding a spear. Because that's not suggestive.

Oh, badass Dimitri in the cut scene. And Dedue got a moment.

OMG. Guys, is that fanservice? I think I just got fanserviced.

They somehow made it Dimilix and Dimidue in the same scene.

Ok, but this game has been serving Dimilix, but can we note Dimitri didn't take Felix's hand? Dedue had to like storm in and put his hand over Dimitri's and force him to pick up the weapon? And it was DEDUE who made Dimitri change his mind? Felix got to lead the mission. Both getting the spotlight.

Guys, like, I need to rewatch that like a thousand times. Because we also can't skip the Dimitri and Dedue being complete badasses afterwards shots.

DIMITRI'S BACK. I CAN USE HIM AGAIN. Ohmygod I forgot how strong he is. 37 strength. WTF Dimitri.

Margrave Gautier just showed up. Holy hell this is epic.

Wait, Cornelia just talked about tearing Dimitri's eyes out. Does this confirm that bitch took his eye in Houses?

Dimitri finished her off with Atrocity. Seems fitting.

Cornelia's like don't kill me! Or the truth will never be known. Dimitri's like ofc, bitch.

So Cornelia arranged most of the pieces of the Duscur. So glad Dimitri's finally getting to ask all these questions 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Edelgard knows what happened to Patricia? Or is Cornelia blowing smoke?

This bitch is about to warp, ugh. Though, that means I get to kill her again, so not too upset.

Man, is AG really going to focus on Dimitri discovering the truth about Duscur and fighting TWSITD because if that's the whole plot . . . I'm so happy 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

But like, why does Dimitri get the whole new plot? Edelgard and Claude are getting crumbs. Oh well.

Dimitri, Rodrigue, and Dedue have rejoined you. Helllll yesss.

Dimitri ready to go after Cornelia. But Felix saying to chill.

Ohhhh Felix got words for Dimitri this time. He's yelling at Dimitri for taking on too much by himself. Calling Dimitri out for not listening.

Ingrid's like, Felix stop. Felix isn't listening.

Dimitri just called killing Rufus "murder." Like stawp. Dimitri, it's self-defense at that point. I swear to God Dimitri would find a way to blame himself for cancer 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

He didn't choose any of this 😭😭😭😭😭😭

He wants to take all the guilt for Edelgard's and Rufus's and TWSITD's actions. Baby, no. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Felix is telling everyone else to tell Dimitri to knock it off lol.

OMG, I'm so glad for this scene. They're all telling Dimitri not to shoulder everything alone. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Guys, this is the missing scene from AM that I was desperate for.

Guys, this route is like 10000000x better than the other two.

I need to write some kind of hybrid AG/AM route.

Cornelia's in pain. Good. She's getting the Western lords whipped into a frenzy lamo.

And you know what, no Byleth or Jeralt! I'm so fucking tired of them showing up every. single. battle. Good on AG to knock that off for at least 1 chapter. It gets fucking old.

God, this chapter. I'm going to be thinking about this for a long time.

Man, I really am tempted to just drop the other two routes and only play AG. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

xxx

[subwaysurf45]

Does Bucky and reader ever end up having children? If so, would they have royal titles or does reader and Bucky want them to be normal and not let them have any royal titles?

The Husband

The Time of the Prey Series

This is how I see Bucky as a husband and I genuinely don't see them ever having kids. It might be projection because I don't want them but I also think it goes with the character, I hope this is good!

A/N: there were a bunch of asks about Bucky as a husband and dad so I used this one for the fic, hope it reaches all of you anons...!!!

hold on... you didn't know this was an ask from a series and just thought it was a oneshot? you gotta get caught up! Here's the masterlist for you, check it out and come back - there's more Knight!Bucky over there!

Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist

You sat in the throne room, counting the tiles on the floor. Most public service excited you but today was a slow day, nothing of importance was brought to your attention and all the Dukes were just complaining about their privileged lives. As the Queen you couldn’t tell them to shut up, you had to nod and smile - like you did best. 

“How many more?” you sighed as you leaded back on the throne, your maid in waiting asked a Knight and told you it was one. “Thank the heavens,” you muttered to yourself, “send them in!” you called out. 

To your surprise, your husband walked into the throne room with a smirk on his face. “Your Majesty,” he bowed. 

“Husband?” you laughed, everyone in the room began to laugh and look around at one another. 

“No, I come today as a humble servant,” pressed one arm to his chest and the other stretched out wide, “I’m here on behalf of the men I’ve been training, today you will select the new head of the Guard.” 

The current guard was on bed rest, unable to do his job. You had visited his quarters the other day and relieved him of his duties, not wanting him to pass under stress of letting down his Queen. 

“My Queen,” he whispered from his bed, “I took an oath that states I can only relieve my service if I die. As you can see, I am not dead,” he laughed, it quickly faltered when you took his hand. 

“And yet my husband, a Knight, married me.” You smiled, “these oaths can’t really last until your last breath, I relieve you, I want you to have a day where you walk the path of the forest look at the trees and not at the royals in front of you,” your hand squeezed his, “one day to yourself, I charge you.” 

“Then I must,” he sighed, “thank you, my Queen.” 

“You have been one of the best, and never forgotten.” 

“Send them in,” you smiled and Bucky nodded and turned around the corner and brought them inside, there were four of them. “Weren’t there more?” 

“They will be Knights, this is a Head Guard we are discussing, Your Majesty.” 

“Don’t call me that,” you waved off your husband. 

“Alright,” Bucky laughed and patted one man on the shoulder, “this is Charles, he’s twenty, has been under my wing for ten years.” The boy stepped forward and bowed. Bucky went along and introduced the other two until he reached the last one, long gold hair fell down to his shoulders. 

“Who is this?” you shifted in your seat, the child’s hair was longer than Bucky’s. 

“This is Strat, also known as Hercules, he’s seventeen years old and an orphan boy.” Bucky stepped back, “would you like to speak to any of them, my love?” 

“Strat,” you waved him forward. 

Strat stepped forward, looking over his shoulder to Bucky. “My apologies, what do I call you-”

“You call her your Queen or Her Majesty, I call her what I want,” Bucky quickly interjected, “if you call anything other than those two things I could take your tongue right here on this very tile floor-”

“That’s enough,” you looked at Bucky with wide eyes, “you’re so protective,” you whispered loud enough for Bucky to hear. 

After interrogation you picked Strat as the new Guard, though he was young you trusted what Bucky had been saying all these years. There was no doubt in your mind he would be right, so the questions weren’t necessary. 

“Here, my love,” Bucky walked up the steps to the throne and approached the throne, offering his hand to help you down the steps in your dress and heeled shoes. “How are you feeling?” he asked and placed a hand on your forehead, “you look like all colour is drained.” 

You shrugged and walked with him, thanking all the guards as you passed them. “I think I’m just-...” you spun your hand around in air to try and find the word, “my mother is beginning to fall ill, Benson, the previous Head Guard is on his deathbed,” you turned the corner and Bucky pulled you closer, “everyone is getting old, we’re getting older and sometimes I think what if my way isn’t going to work?” 

“What do you mean?” Bucky rubbed your arm, “talk to me, what are you talking about?” 

You stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked up at the ceiling, “did we mess up by not having children?” you whispered, “I don’t regret it, pregnancy scares me and raising a child is not something I would ever want to do but sometimes I feel like I’ve escaped too many royal duties, you know?” you looked over at him to see him nodding. 

“If you found out you were pregnant tonight would you be happy?” Bucky asked and began to walk again. 

“No,” you replied truthfully and Bucky knew it. 

“Then that answers your questions,” He walked ahead of you and turned around to face you, “I understand some times are duties but I also know you would have hated a pregnancy so much you probably would resent the child for a while, that’s not what you want - or who you really are.” 

“What happens when I die-” 

“My love,” he sighed, pulling you into a hug, “my sun and stars, my sweetheart, my girl, my lover, my wife, my Queen,” he pulled away, “My person.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you looked at him. “Do not call death's name when he is not needed, alright?” his thumbs wiped away your tears, “The Free Lands have mastered elections and democracy, later on in this beautiful life we can discuss.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been thinking about it recently.” You pulled him back into a hug, “it’s just hard to see everyone you love grow old in front of your eyes because it means I’m growing old too.” 

“You aren’t even at a quarter of a lifetime yet,” he whispered, “you think too much, we need a vacation or something.” 

“I need a deep breath,” you laughed. 

“I mean, that’s easier but seeing you on a beach could be a little better for the both of us.”

"Beach sounds nice," you whispered in his embrace, feeling home surrounding you.

"As you wish."

Thanks for all the love and reading, if you enjoyed don’t be afraid to reblog!

- Rambo <3

Taglist: tag list: @maybeimart @imtherain @jackiehollanderr @redneckstrash @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog @linzc-reader @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0405 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist @munsonette @searchf0rtheskyline @aya-fay @emi11ie @prettywhenicry420 @theluvcafe @whatsmylaneagain @sparkletash @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @daydreaminglightly​ @desert-fern​ @wdyss​ @crazy4seb-chris​ @death-sonata​ @namelesssav

[daybreakrising]

@gachahell: silence looms over the both of them. the vibrant pink hair that falls in the newest inmate's face identifies her before any paperwork could. baobhan sith, one of the youngest of his sisters— sits before him. she's bound, her arms tightly held behind her back. pale grey eyes stare into wriothesley's own, and she knows him.

" you went up in the world, huh? well, down. " despite her lack of freedom of movement, she still manages to flip her hair back over her shoulder. " this is kind of embarrassing. but knowing it's you down here, you'll totally lessen my sentence, won't you? "

she wants to cry. she wants to reach out and hug her older brother. she wants to beg him for safety and warmth. but that isn't what she's supposed to—— allowed to do. so her words are cold, blatantly manipulative, and filled with venom instead.

It is standard practice that all inmates thought to propose a risk - to others or themselves - upon entering the Fortress must first spend a period of time in isolation until they can be fully assessed. An uncomfortable, yet necessary, practice, the Duke long ago established a protocol where he, personally, would oversee the inmate and their transfer to the secure unit.

So, he is prepared for their newest resident long before she is brought before him. He has studied her arrest warrant already: Tristan Le Fey, wanted for several accounts of manslaughter, a rather notable list of crimes already attached to her name. He is setting the file down when the knock sounds at his door, and his guards bring the prisoner before him.

He is prepared to face a dangerous criminal. He is not prepared to face a ghost from his own past.

A cold fist closes tight around his heart, his throat, and squeezes. She has grown, of course, but little else has changed. A vivid memory lurches to the surface: she's sat on the floor in front of him, her vibrant hair within his hands as he delicately weaves it into braids whilst she regales him with some tale or other. Baobhan.

All at once he is consumed by a myriad of emotions that he struggles to control: grief, for the sister he thought lost; pain, for the memories previously long buried; and a rising sense of fear and panic at the realisation that he can no longer hide from who he was.

"Leave us." He barks to the guards who stand, dutifully, at either side of their prisoner. He sees them glance at one another, uncertain, because by the rules of the Fortress an inmate deemed potentially dangerous must always be accompanied by two or more guards. "That's an order."

There's a brief hesitation before they comply, not wishing to question the orders of their administrator. He is aware of one glancing back at him before slipping out of the office: no doubt the entire prison will be aware of an apparent connection between the Duke and their latest inmate before the day is out. It cannot be helped.

The moment they are alone, his gaze softens, saddens. "Baobhan..." He utters, dropping to one knee before her, their gazes now level. "I thought..." He didn't know which of his siblings had survived until he was in a position to look up his file. He knew there had been testimonies from some of the older children, intended for evidence in his defence, but they hadn't been permitted into the room for the trial, and their names were protected. When he hadn't seen her name amongst those recovered from the scene of the crime, he had made an understandable assumption.

Dead - or worse: sold to an even crueller fate.

He doesn't acknowledge her remarks, the question. All he can focus on is the ice in her tone, the frostiness to her gaze. She had once looked upon him with such love, such affection. She was his little sister, yet now they are no more than strangers. He does not know Tristan Le Fey no more than she knows Wriothesley.

"Of all the ghosts to haunt me, you were the last I expected."

[hel-phoenyx]

Nicomaque belongs to @soupedepates

My eyes skim through the picture with disinterest. My face, brimming with the common joy of the eight year old without a care in the world, gives me back my look with a glee I do not find in me anymore.

What a waste of time. It would be so easy to just throw that out in the bin and be done with my day, but the picture goes with a letter signed in rose gold and perfumed with cherry blossoms, and I simply cannot bring myself to let that go.

So I just sit there, piece of paper in my hands, and look deep upon my own gaze.

When did I lost that gleam in my eyes?

A chair is pulled behind me. Expecting, hoping even, for a distraction Senri or Seo-jun would be so kind to bring me, I lift my head, only to feel my smile falter in front of Nicomaque's smug face.

He has a lipstick smudge in his neck. I guess Augusta is treating him well. I really hope the reverse is true.

I'm not in the mood to indulge in whatever that smile indicates. But I'm not in the mood to shoo him away, either. Let's just stay there and endure, I guess.

"Sulking on old photos? Look, your last moments of happiness."

"Ah-a. I'll have you know, my last moments of happiness were right before I saw your stupid face."

He let out a sarcastic laugh.

"That's a weird expression for someone who was happy."

I rolled my eyes. The instant of inattention he was waiting for.

One second, I was holding the picture. The next one, my hands closed on air and a very proud Nicomaque held in his smoke-scented fingers the object of his attention.

"Gotcha!"

My reflexes are not what they used to be, it seems. For my defense, I did not exactly want to protect that from him.

My absence of reaction made him shrug, and he looked at the picture with more attention to detail, before frowning.

"What's that, Hitler's wet dream?"

"Almost, I snickered while he showed me the family picture. That's the perfect little Dutch noble family. No exaggeration intended."

And I wouldn't be joking about that. The picture had everything you'd want a painting to have. The mother sitting on a chair with her most beautiful dress, a baby sleeping in her arms; the father, standing next to her, and in front of them, two blonde children, a girl and a boy, holding hands.

The father is the only one not smiling at the camera.

Nicomaque raised an eyebrow.

"No exaggeration intended, huh?"

"Nope. Did you know van Heels hold a title? Technically, women can't pass it down but considering I took mother's family name, I guess patriarchy doesn't hold that much weight."

"Damn. Hope's peak's greatest fuck machine is a kind of count."

"Duke. That's even worse."

Not that I give that much importance to titles, but I guess Nicomaque's flabbergasted expression is a thing I enjoy more than I should.

"Though if I'm honest with you, I added while he looked at the picture, if you called me Duke van Heel in front of my family, they would have a seizure. I would try if I didn't just barfed in my mouth a little."

"I'll think about it. And those are the Uber mensch, I suppose?"

"Yep. Damian and Adelheid van Heel in the flesh. The children are my two sisters. The eldest sent me this. Family nostalgia, she said... Pfah."

Elvira really doesn't know me if she thinks that kind of pictures would trigger the good kind of nostalgia. But then again, before he took it from my hands, I wasn't able to let go of the damn thing.

His finger pointed a part of the picture. Hiding a fake smile.

"And I guess this fair lady is your mother. Really your spitting image."

I looked where he was pointing. Blonde hair held in a perfect bun, a little wrinkle under the eyes, make-up almost perfectly hiding dark circles, grass green eyes looking at the camera, a warm smile on her rozy lips.

I wonder if he can see the piercing looks and the cold, slitted pupils going through the paper.

Those eyes that can't leave my own, that I never forgot because I see them in the mirror every waking morning.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."