#i cannot like it without thinking back to how he kept hitting on her even while she was visibly uncomfortable

[penguin--person]

AUGHH THIS PVP CIV EP WAS SO GOOD !!! Blows up badly.

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 11)

A/N: oh my god guys I finally wrote the next part! Please like it lol. I did see this as the end of the story but I purposely kept it open so if I ever did want to write more I could

Special shoutout to @lunargrrrl because without you saying that you loved this story I probably wouldn't have even touched it for at least another month (I love your writing so much I would do anything for you)

Word count:

Warnings: oral sex, scissoring, little bit of angst?

Taglist: 3440

@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna (sorry if I forgot you or if I put you twice, I just copied and pasted the taglist from the part 10 and then whoever said they wanted to be on it recently)

“Hey!” You call after your step-mom as she struts through the parking lot back to her car, never breaking a stride, leaving you to chase after. “Agatha, wait!” 

She doesn’t even turn around, just unlocks the door and slides in, and she’s turning on the car when you finally make it into the passenger seat. 

You’re a little out of breath, so you take a moment to compose yourself. Agatha is staring forward, hands gripped on the steering wheel. “What was that?” You’re finally able to ask. 

Her knuckles turn white but she doesn’t answer. She shifts into drive and pulls forward and you can see how tightly her jaw is clenched. 

“Agatha, will you please talk to me?” You’re begging at this point, you don’t know what else to do, because something is wrong. That wasn’t her plan. 

Although, neither was fucking you in the bathroom. 

Your body betrays you and the concern you’re supposed to be feeling right now and heats up at the memory. You can still feel her thrusting inside you, your hips hitting the cold sink top, her hand wound in your hair making you watch yourself get absolutely railed by her. 

Stop. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, to get your mind out of the gutter, and Agatha finally pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s a good sign she didn’t take you back to your mom’s house, you suppose. She slams the car door after she gets out and storms into the house, you following hot on her heels. 

Agatha goes right to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. She takes a long sip and a deep inhale, and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens her eyes, she finally looks at you like she’s seeing you for the first time. 

“I’m sorry I did that with you there,” she says and you almost laugh. Is that what she was upset about? 

You shake your head and steal the glass from her, taking a gulp and wincing at the bitter taste. Agatha raises an eyebrow at your blatant underage drinking in front of her, but says nothing. You swallow the wine hard and make a face. “Don’t be. It was kind of hot,” you admit, and she chuckles humorlessly. And then a thought dawns on you. “Wait, do you think he’s going to think something happened in the bathroom? Cause we both went, and then you came out and said you wanted a divorce.” 

There’s a glint in Agatha’s eye. “You really think he’s going to assume that I fucked my stepdaughter against the sink in a restaurant bathroom and then decided to break things off?” 

“Well…” You trail off, the leap to that conclusion seeming a bit implausible, especially for him. Your dad has a hard time focusing on things that aren’t himself. “Seems like we’re in the clear, at least.” 

Agatha snorts and drains the rest of the wine. There’s still something off about her, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice softening. “I mean, are we okay? I know we said earlier that we didn’t know what this would mean for us –” 

She cuts you off by slamming the glass down on the countertop so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t break and then closes her eyes to take a deep breath. You freeze. “I’m sorry,” Agatha says eventually, but it’s unclear if she’s apologizing for the reaction or for something else. Maybe for the whole thing between you? 

There’s an uneasy feeling that starts to grow in your stomach. Is she going to break things off with you too? 

Not that there’s anything to break off, is there? It hasn’t even been that long since this thing started, but it’s been intense. More intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

You know that it might kill you if she walks away now. 

“Do you not want this?” Your question is like a stab to your gut, you’ve never sounded smaller in your life, and your heart pounds heavily in your chest while you wait for an answer. You need to know.

Agatha’s hands fidget on the counter, it looks like she wants to pour herself another glass of wine, but she refrains. “We can talk about what happens next later,” she says levelly and walks away without another word. 

The pit in your stomach only grows. How did you go from being fucked by Agatha’s strap not even an hour ago to this cold distance between you? She had been so possessive, so inflamed by the thought that you would even entertain another woman. 

The sound of her footsteps recedes up the stairs. What does she expect you to do? She picked you up from your mom’s house, and you can’t exactly call her to come get you. 

So you go upstairs and find Agatha in her bedroom, swiping at her face while she’s throwing clothes into a suitcase. You momentarily lose your train of thought when she slides open a drawer and you see about a dozen sets of lacy lingerie. 

Agatha clears it out and dumps it into the suitcase. 

And then your brows furrow in confusion. “Wait, you’re moving out? Why not make my dad?” 

She looks at you like she didn’t even realize you had come in. “It’s easier this way. I’ll get an apartment closer to my job. Your dad can do whatever he wants with this place, he’s the one that wanted it in the first place.” 

“Oh. Okay,” you say, a little dumbfounded. Everything is happening so fast, completely spinning out of control, and you don’t know what to make of it. She spares you another glance before standing up and moving to clear out her nightstand. 

She takes out a vibrator and the rope she tied you up with just yesterday and places them on top of the lingerie. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about my dad catching us anymore, right?” You try to joke, but definitely not the time or place.

Agatha stiffens. “Honey,” she starts, and you know you’re not going to like this. 

“No,” you interrupt. “You’re getting divorced. We don’t have to sneak around anymore, or at least not as much. I like you, Agatha, and I don’t know how you feel about me–” 

“I’m leaving your father because of you,” she snaps and it’s like you’ve been slapped in the face. A thick silence settles over the two of you and you can see how hard she’s clenching her jaw. 

“What?” You whisper. “He’s having an affair, I feel like that should be your main priority.” But your heart is beating fast and you feel like you’re getting close to getting something real from her. 

She rolls her eyes and faces you directly. “Obviously. But I was thinking about it before. He’s not the only one who’s been having an affair here.” Was she leaving him because it’s the right thing to do? Or–

“So…” The pieces are scrambling to connect in your mind. “You want to be with me?” 

Agatha scoffs like the idea is ridiculous. “Be with the eighteen year old about to go off to college and find plenty of girls her own age to fuck?” 

She’s insecure? You can tell Agatha doesn’t completely understand how she’s feeling either, you can see the storm brewing in her eyes. She’s conflicted, torn between her own feelings. 

You walk over to where she’s standing and put your hands on her shoulders. Agatha doesn’t even meet your eyes. But then you slide your hands down her arms, onto her hips, and sink down to your knees. 

Now she looks at you and swallows hard. You can see the effect you’re having on her, her blown out pupils, and it only spurs you on. 

Your fingers fiddle with the zipper on your pants, carefully watching her face for any sign of hesitation. You drag the zipper down slowly and she helps you take off her pants and steps out of them like she’s in a trance. She’s still wearing the strap-on, it still smells like you – fuck, don’t get distracted. 

You loosen the harness and slide that down her legs too before leaning in and nipping at her thigh. 

“Let me show you how much I don’t want someone my own age?” You offer, gazing at her through your eyelashes. 

Her hand tangles in your hair and you let out a quiet gasp. “Go ahead, babygirl,” she says in a low voice, the voice that always gets you going, and pushes your head in-between her legs. 

It’s a bit of an awkward position, with her standing above you, stance slightly widened with you on the ground in front of her, but you make it work. 

You flatten your tongue and lick through her folds, collecting her wetness and moaning at the taste. It’s something you’ll never get tired of. You think you could easily spend hours eating Agatha out, and that’s something you’d like to try if she lets you. 

When your tongue flicks against her clit, her hand tightens in your hair and she lets out a moan and you do it again, desperate to please, desperate to hear more sounds fall from her lips. She lets out a little gasp when you suck on her clit, and you do it harder. Agatha’s hips jerk and she tugs on your hair, causing you to moan against her pussy. 

“God, honey, right there,” she says hoarsely and you double-down on your efforts, rubbing your tongue up and down over her clit while maintaining eye contact. Her groan is deep and she keeps brushing away the hair that falls over your face so she can see you. 

Your hands trace her thighs, the front and the back, and you dig your nails into the skin, leaving crescent indentations. The muscles in her legs tighten and she tries to roll her hips against your face but the position you two are in makes that challenging. 

So she steps back, your tongue still moving instinctively even though her pussy is gone, and you whine her name. 

She smirks and runs a hand through her hair, collecting herself for a second. “Don’t worry, baby. Mommy just wants to move to the bed.” 

Agatha walks to her bed, sits and leans back, spreading her legs for you. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of her dripping cunt that was on your face not a minute earlier and you move to stand up, but she stops you. 

“Stay on your knees,” she orders and you clench around nothing. The carpet is rough on your skin, but you can feel yourself getting wetter from her intense but appreciative gaze as you practically crawl across the room for her. 

You finally get to her and you push open her legs even more, first deciding to kiss up the length of each inner thigh. She shakes beneath you, especially when you get close to the heat between them, and she gasps when you nip at the pale skin. And then you dive back into her pussy, thrusting your tongue inside her, and she’s able to grind much more on your face without fear of falling over when she’s sitting like this. 

Your stepmom rides your face and all you have to do is open your mouth and stick out your tongue and she does the rest; she drags her pussy all over, small huffs falling out of her mouth at the exertion. Agatha takes what she needs from you until you can feel her clenching and her hips start to falter – she’s getting closer. 

You slide your hands around the backs of her thighs and pull her even closer to you so you can take over, sucking roughly on her clit and then curling your tongue inside her and repeating, all while Agatha moans uncontrollably above you, her hips jerking with each touch to her clit. 

“Fuck, babygirl, right there,” she chokes out, you can feel her throbbing, feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, and you don’t change a thing about what you’re doing, keeping the same pace and speed to gradually build up her orgasm. You can feel her body getting tighter and tenser and you know she’s about to cum. 

You give her one last filthy lick up the length of her pussy and then suck on her clit harshly, and she cums all over your face, getting it absolutely soaked. 

As if you’d ever complain about that. Agatha looks so hot coming apart for you like that, and you can’t believe she’d ever think you’d rather have a college hook-up than her. 

It takes her a moment to recover, but when she tilts your chin up, you beam at her, and you can still see the heat in her eyes. 

And even though she just fucked you hard in the bathroom, you need more too. You surge up off your knees and almost knock her backwards with the force and capture her lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and lips. 

She groans at the taste of herself on you and you straddle her lap, pushing a thigh between hers so you’re both able to grind on each other while you kiss. Her hands hike up the dress you’re still wearing so she can cup your ass and guide you on her leg, pushing you down harder against her, and you have to break away from her mouth to moan. Your underwear is absolutely soaked and clinging to you, almost getting uncomfortable. 

Your fingers fumble with buttons on her silky button-down and eventually you get so exasperated that you just rip it, buttons flying everywhere around the room. Agatha chuckles in amusement and tugs on your underwear, and you reluctantly get off her for a second to take it off. 

But then you climb back on her, your lips finding hers again, and this time when her hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer, she does fall back with how hard you’re grinding and kissing. 

You don’t care. Instead, you get an idea. You’ve never tried it before, but it seems like this would be the perfect time to. 

Sitting back up, you ignore Agatha’s confused look and chew on your lip. She lets you angle one of her legs up and over your hip, while you put your other leg over hers. When your eyes flick back up to Agatha’s, you can see recognition on her face and she looks positively excited. 

And then with a deep breath, you lower yourself down and a gasp escapes your mouth when your cunt touches hers. 

“Fuck, honey,” Agatha says and you have to pause before you become overwhelmed with pleasure. 

You slowly roll your hips and you both moan. “Mommy,” you whimper. “Feels so good.” 

Her hands settle on your waist while you lean forward, bracketing her head with your arms, and she helps you move against her, your wetness mixing with hers and making it easy to slide against each other. 

“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how hot you are,” Agatha murmurs, maybe more to herself than to you, but there’s no denying how much effect those words have on you. Your clit pulses and you keen, your movements becoming sloppy, but Agatha’s hips rise to meet yours and there’s an absolute mess between the two of you in no time. 

Your head drops down so you can pepper kisses against her chest and sternum, mouthing at her breasts through her lacy, gray bra. Agatha jerks beneath you, her clit stroking against yours and you pant hotly against her skin. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, your head starting to spin with how good it feels. Her wetness, being able to feel all of her so intimately, her ragged breathing, the slight sheen of sweat on her chest. You drag your tongue over the skin at her bra line and her back arches off the bed.

Your limbs are entangled and the movements become short ruts against each other, hands flying from cheeks to hips to breasts to thighs and you can feel the tension building in your stomach. Agatha is getting closer, too, she’s breathing into your open mouth and the only sounds in the room are the two of you moaning and the slickness of your wetness. 

“Fuck, right there,” Agatha says tightly, your clit finding hers, and the two of you grind just like that, the stimulation almost too good. “God, sweetheart, you feel so good.” 

Your hips stammer and she pulls you in for a kiss, strokes her tongue into your mouth, and you cum all over her pussy, the dam inside you exploding. Pleasure races through your veins and you think your mind goes blank for a second, absolutely no thoughts except for Agatha. 

She follows shortly after, her body twitching under yours and you can feel her orgasm as she rides it out against you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever felt, and the embers of the heat inside your stomach flicker. 

You stay on top of her for a minute or two, just soaking in the feeling of her against you like that. 

And then Agatha stiffens. “I don’t know if your dad is coming home tonight, but we should probably get cleaned up.” You groan at her mentioning your dad right now, right after possibly the best sex you’ve had in your life, but she has a point. 

You get off her and find your underwear, sliding it back on and fixing your appearance in the mirror. Agatha gives you a wolfish grin and a low whistle at your reflection and you roll your eyes playfully. 

She pulls on an entirely new outfit, her pants strewn on the floor somewhere and her shirt completely ripped open, and then she washes off the strap in the sink and puts that in her suitcase, too. 

It’s as you’re following her downstairs, carrying the other suitcase she quickly packed in your hands, when your dad opens the front door, looking flustered. 

“Agatha, please, talk to me,” he begs when he sees the two of you, eyes darting in confusion between you, probably wondering what you’re doing. Your stepmom walks right past him, and you awkwardly follow. “Sweet pea,” he says, this time referring to you. “What is going on?” 

“I know you’ve been cheating,” Agatha says, pausing when she gets to the door to whirl back around to face him. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach and you almost laugh. “I’m getting a hotel tonight, and then I’ll look for an apartment. You can have everything in this house. I’ll be talking to my lawyer tomorrow.” 

It’s the quickest settlement you’ve ever seen. When your parents got divorced, they had gone back and forth for months, bickering over the smallest things like blankets and game boards. You couldn’t be more relieved that Agatha just wants a clean break and no hassle. 

She opens the door and walks out of it, you only two steps behind, and you close it after you’re both outside, ignoring your dad’s calls for you to come back. 

You both wordlessly walk to her car and she opens the trunk to put her suitcases in. She didn’t pack all of her stuff, she will still need to come back and get the rest of her clothes and whatnot, but it’s a good start. You’re more than willing to come back by yourself and get the rest of her belongings, too. 

Agatha gets into the driver’s seat and you slide into the passenger’s. It doesn’t seem to be a question that you’re coming with her. 

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happens next for us,” you say quietly, needing to get some things off your chest. “We don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But just know that I’m not going to do what he did, or throw you away like that. I really like you, Agatha. And if it’s just like this for however long this lasts, I’m okay with that. I just want you.” 

Her eyes stay on the road and her lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she won’t. 

But then her hand slips down across the center console and interlocks her fingers with yours and she squeezes. You can see the hint of a smile ghosting her face. 

You squeeze back. That’s all the answer you need. 

[currebunz]

Captured (Kenji Sato x singer!Reader)

A/N: I just wanted to write something after watching the movie. Considering making a proper story but I dunno :P

It had all happened so quickly, the drones surrounding your car and the men dragging you into an unmarked vehicle. Your phone was taken and your secretary was left frazzled as you were abducted by a mysterious group. It wasn’t until you were in the car did you realize who had taken you. The panic wore off as you steeled yourself the best you could. The KDF had acted upon the suspicions you had been warned about. Then you were blindfolded and presumably taken to their base.

When your sight returned, you were in an interrogation room of some sort. It was obvious by the one table and two chairs. Surveillance cameras in the corners and the one way out of the room. If it wasn’t, then it was your prison. The door opened and the tall presence of Dr. Onda entered the room.

“I’m sure you have your questions, so do we” he began.

You kept calm, not wanting to show fear or nervousness. You know why you were here.

“Let’s not beat around the bush, I saw you with the infant kaiju. Where is it hiding?” Onda demanded.

A monitor brought up the event from a few nights ago. The baby kaiju that you had only recently met, it had gone on a rampage at night as Onda had put it. The creature had been attracted to your concert and jumped over the venue walls to join you on stage.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you said plainly.

“You cannot deny the evidence, it was familiar with you” Onda accused you.

“Hello? I am the number one on the charts right now. I’m sure my music reached the baby at some point. My music videos are being played all over Tokyo” you argued.

“How do you explain your reaction? You didn’t run from the infant” Onda continued.

You kept your face still and calm. In your head, you thought of the baby Kaiju and Kenji. You were determined to protect both of them.

“Dr. Onda, just like with any other attack my fans hold priority for me over my own safety. I was scared, but I needed to ensure my fans had time to evacuate. Even if it meant being in the line of fire. I do this all the time” you explained.

Of course he knew, there was an ongoing buzz in your fanbase about kaijus enjoying your music. It didn’t bother you one bit, especially after meeting the cutest one you had ever seen before.

“Then you sympathize with these monsters? Is that why you hide the infant?” Onda continued to press.

“If the kaiju had attacked me or my fans, I would have felt some sort of way about it. But you can see clearly on the footage, the baby started dancing. It was singing along, not trying to hurt anyone” you said firmly.

Onda paused, letting the camera footage replay once more. You were still singing on stage as the pink baby kaiju screeched and chirped along with the beat. It was clumsy, but the creature had a vague understanding of the choreography. As if practiced.

“If you won’t tell us, I have my ways of extracting the truth from you” Onda warned.

“You can’t hold me here without reason for arrest, I’ll throw the book at you as many times as I have to” you shot back.

“I’ll have you know the KDF acts above the law” Onda smirked.

“And if you knew anything about musicians, you would know we have a reputation of not giving a fuck about authority figures” you said confidently.

Onda must have realized this was going nowhere as his smile fell. He stopped the camera footage and made his exit.

“I’ll give you time to think about it, surely you will make the right choice once you have cleared your head” he said as the door shut.

Now that he was gone, you let out a deep sigh. How were you getting out of this one?

____

It hit him hard hearing that you were kidnapped. Mina had found surveillance footage of you being dragged away. The panicked look on your face made his heart clench. Even the baby had let out a sad screech, clawing at the refined glass walls of her containment unit. The moment Kenji saw the footage end, he was storming to the exit.

“Wait, Kenji!” Professor Sato stopped his son.

“I can’t wait! Don’t you know what they will do?!” he shouted.

“I know that, but you can’t just break in as Ultraman. We need a plan” the professor said firmly.

Kenji could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. As much as it pained him, his father was right. He probably wouldn’t be able to maintain his Ultraman form in this state.

“Then what do we do?” he asked.

“We do what we can, Mina. Hack the systems and get me eyes inside the base” Professor Sato requested.

“Very well” Mina responded.

“Hack? Dad, is that even legal?” Kenji asked in shock.

“Legality was thrown out the minute they abducted [y/n]” Professor Sato said.

Kenji felt a bit of hope, it had been a long time since he saw his dad like this. He watched as the camera feed showed up in front of them. It cycled through rooms until they found you. They watched the interrogation with Onda, proud of your strong reply.

“I knew they wouldn’t break [y/n]” Kenji smiled proudly.

“Reminds me of your mother, tough as nails” Professor Sato agreed.

The cameras began to feed other rooms as Professor Sato mapped a way out.

“It’s possible I can guide [y/n] out of there. It will be difficult and we will have to believe in [y/n]’s ability to make it out. But that's all we got” he continued.

“What can I do?” Kenji asked.

“You are going to be the getaway driver, get ready to rendezvous outside the base” Professor Sato ordered.

“Got it, Mina, keep me in the loop and send camera feed to my watch” Kenji requested.

“Already on it” Mina said.

____

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but your mind was getting fuzzy. Just being in the room was unsettling and you wanted to get out. You had tried to look for a way out but there was none other than the locked door. The cameras followed your movement, stripping away what little privacy you had left. They gave you back your phone, but there was no reception at all. The device was just a heavy bar in your hand at this point.

“[y/n]!” a familiar voice hissed.

You turned your head to the monitor in the room, it looked turned off but you were sure you heard a voice.

“Don’t look, pretend like you don’t hear us. I’m taking the cameras down in a second so you need to work fast” Professor Sato explained.

You nodded, not wanting to seem suspicious. You waited until he gave the signal and then rushed over to the monitor.

“There isn’t a lot of time to explain, but I am going to guide you out of the base. Follow the map I am sending to your phone-”

“My phone doesn’t have a signal?” you began.

“It’s jammed, I can only shut down the jammer for a second so keep the image up” Professor Sato said.

Sure enough, a strange map was sent to your phone. It looked like a maze to you but there was a portion lit up with a bright color.

“Follow this path, I will keep an eye on you and use their systems to warn you. But you must go now!” he warned.

“But what about when I get out?” you asked frantically.

“Kenji will be waiting for you,” Professor Sato said before disconnecting.

The door to the room slid open and you could hear sirens wailing. Spurred by the thought of meeting with Kenji, you started to run. The halls felt like they went on for miles, barren with solid colors and a few lights. If you weren’t careful, you could easily get lost in the minimalist design of the base. Occasionally, you could hear Professor Sato over the speakers in the base direct you to change paths to avoid guards. However, it was inevitable that you would run into someone.

“I found the captive!” the guard shouted.

You didn’t stop running, charging at the man and sliding on the floor. You used the momentum and the weight of your body to crash into his legs, sending him onto the floor. You quickly recovered, stumbling as you tried to maintain the speed and fix your running stance. The halls began to turn and soon you found yourself in a different area. All you could do was hope that it was closer to the entrance.

More guard appeared and the ground began to descend, a trap to keep you from getting past them. But you let the floor get low enough that you could jump on their helmets like stepping stones to cross the divide. You jumped, just barely making it onto the edge and kept running. Your heart was beating in your chest and your throat burned like it was on fire. You wanted to stop, you wanted to rest.

But Kenji was waiting for you.

That spurred you on until you were sure you were nearing the exit and entrance. Professor Sato’s words of encouragement reassured you as you ran and jumped over the guard’s gate. The sunset blinded you as you kept running, until you heard the rev of an engine. A large shadow filled your vision as your eyes adjusted to the brightness. A hand was extended out to you.

“Let’s get out of here”

You could see Kenji’s smile and grasp his hand tightly. He pulled you onto the back of his bike and you held on for dear life. You kept your eyes closed as your hands dug into his toned body. Your face was pressed into his back and you inhaled his scent. It was all you could do to try and calm yourself. At least until you were sure you were safe. When the ride came to an end, you were at Kenji’s place. You climbed off the bike and Kenji removed his helmet frantically.

“Oh my god! You were amazing, I saw everything! You were so, so-” Kenji’s voice died off as he finally looked at you properly.

Your shoulders were shaking, your hands clasped together but still shaking. Your pupils were blown and your breathing unsteady.

“You were scared…” he finished as he realized the gravity of the situation.

“Kenji…. Ken…” you tried to speak properly.

You reached a hand out, but then brought it back to your body. But it was too late, he had already seen it. Kenji’s larged hand closer around your wrist and he pulled you into him. He had been a bit forceful, making your cheek tender as your face was thrust into his chest. You could hear his frantic heartbeat, it nearly matched yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he whispered into your hair.

“Ken…”

“It’s all my fault, I should have been there to protect you”

“Ken?...”

“I won’t let it happen again, I promise you that-”

You tighten your hands on his shirt, balling his shirt into your fists.

“Can we just… go inside for now?” you asked.

Kenji pulled back, looking deeply into your eyes. He could see the worry still in them, he was being selfish with his guilt and ignoring your anxiety.

“Y-Yeah, yeah! Let’s go inside the house. Dad, Mina and the baby want to see you too” Kenji stammered out as he pulled you along to the door.

You let out a shaky breath, his grip kept you grounded as you felt like you would fall apart in a second. Kenji was your lifeline right now, and you were grateful for it.

[iratempestatis]

Saw you asking for Xiao requests and thought I could send some!

This might be a little odd one, but... A self-aware Xiao finding out that he has fans like us who love him kinda romantically? It could be fun!

Xiao Waxes Poetic About Fandom

Xiao x gn!reader, 1.5k words. Anon I'm so sorry but I had actually no idea how to write this adgvhfcdcb. I tried my best but I kept giggling about lost 50/50s and and my 80 cr Xiao never critting without Motivation (crit food). I actually considered making hcs instead but I kept writing drabbles instead. Then I tried to write a fic, but kept writing... hcs... Perhaps if inspiration strikes me I'll revisit this idea someday, but! For now, allow me to present you with what feels like a raccoon in a tiara and a feather duster dress-

If Xiao could control player summons, he’d be yours already.

Unfortunately, he cannot- ergo you’ve made a hundred and forty pulls with not a Xiao in sight.

You've never hated Diluc more in your life, he can tell. Poor Diluc.

There are twenty minutes left for his banner to disappear for Devs know how long. He knows your luck is decidedly not his fault, but feels guilty nonetheless. What if he’s treated the same as Ganyu? Or, Devs forbid, Eula? 

You really did look forward to getting him, building him. He was so startled by your devotion- seated on that banner, he could see you anxiously open your inventory, check if you had enough primogems. You pre-farmed for him. You made silly little rituals for him(he winced when they failed). It was absurd. He was a high investment hyper carry. Why bother?

But you pulled Furina, and you pulled Faruzan. You don't have Xianyun (yet, he thinks, in both awe and alarm as he sees her ascension and talent materials in your inventory.)

He cannot fathom it. 

Perhaps you wanted Xianyun for herself- but then you also have Faruzan with all of her constellations lit up. And you also have Furina- and god, nevermind, you really did want him. The set you intend to put on Xianyun is the Song of Days Past. Four piece. With energy recharge substats.

You’re so close. Seventy. You get Layla. He echoes you when he mutters “but you’re not even on the banner!”

Twenty minutes left. You caress the screen. (That's a bit much.) Your brows are pinched together, lower lip worried by your teeth.

“I might have to break my free to play status,” you whisper.

It's not worth it! He wants to scream. Don't do it!

You bite your lip again as you find a chest. Primogem count: 159.

Oh dear.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “It’s fine. This is fine.”

Xiao wishes he could make you go to bed somehow. You’ve been awake for hours. It’s fine even if you don’t pull him now, he returns like clockwork every lantern rite- hm? What are you pulling your Tighnari out for?

He knows you never really bothered to build him prior, purely because farming those fungi was a pain. He watches as you make Yelan rush up to the cliffs of the very Chasm before switching to Tighnari. When he realises what you’re doing, he buries his face in his palms. Your party members groan. Xiao wonders if you’re serious- you want to hit a bird in flight? With your aim?

“FOOL!” Faruzan shrieks. “Attack the ruin guard at Stormbearer instead! That achievement is much easier to get- Hat Guy, do something-“

“Too late.” He smacks his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s started.”

Shing! Nothing Special, Just Practice.

What-?

You whoop, then cough and fall silent, anxiously peeking out of your room. Your fingers shake with trepidation as they land on the screen.

Wish x1.

Xiao feels a familiar tug as he hurtles through the air.

✦—————————————✦

Much to his immense surprise, this is an incredibly familiar story. Every time his banner rolls around there’s people that want him- spend for him, run amok collecting primogems for him. Farming for him. Giving him increasingly prettier and stronger polearms. Thrusting the Staff of Homa in his hands (sorry, Hu Tao).

He’s always a bit baffled, unless the person is someone already inclined to spend. He’s not a good choice for anyone’s account. He’s incredibly unflexible. A bit niche even. He doesn’t even do what his element is meant for.

Yet somehow you seem to enjoy running around with him. Making him special little layouts in the teapot. Insisting he collects your rewards every time. Making him speak to Katheryne every day (it’s so awkward every time, and she keeps laughing when your back is turned).

He remembers doing the Chasm quest with you. When it had begun, you were nothing short of gleeful, which brought him only anguish- he knew in part what had transpired and what was about to- and he knew you’d only be heartbroken by the end of this story.

And you were. You somehow managed to contain yourself till the very end- refusing to move to have even a sip of water until the quest concluded. You were patient- absorbing every every dialogue, every inch of text you could get your hands on.

To be loved is to be known, he thinks amusedly as you sniffle at the conclusion, then immediately open the wiki to confirm some tiny wretched detail. He can’t help but smile to himself a little as you angrily mutter profanities at the advertisements jumping out at you.

✦—————————————✦

“Is she SERIOUS.”

Xiao exhales softly as the Wanderer paces around the teapot. He hasn’t shut up since you logged in- because as soon as you finished your dailies, you occupied yourself straight away with painstakingly modifying the teapot (and crying over changes you accidentally forgot to save), all to welcome home the newest limited anemo five star. He’s been furious since he heard of her and ergo his potentially impending powercreep, much to the amusement of literally everyone besides Barbara, who feels sorry for him and Qiqi, who keeps forgetting who he even is. Xiao wishes he could tell you- he’s sure you’d laugh to no end, but even if he could you probably wouldn’t hear him right now since you’re currently occupied with one of your wretched rituals. This one involves Chongyun and- OH dear, no-

Furina grits her teeth as the glacial greatsword slams into the ground, straight through her neck. Chongyun looks like he really wishes the teapot had a bathroom. Xiao sighs.

Tiny fingers tug on his sleeve. Xiao blinks and turns around to face Sayu, her face puffy, her eyes crusty and glued shut. Eugh. Children really are something sometimes. Xiao considers wiping at her face with his sleeve, but… no. The Wanderer barks a laugh.

“What’s going on?” Sayu yawns. “Who are we pulling for?”

“Chasca,” Xiao says as the Wanderer hisses like a cat. “I wonder if she’ll need Faruzan too?”

They turn to Faruzan, sprawled like a corpse across the grass. You need to touch some too, Xiao thinks. You’ve wasted nearly an hour on the game today, and today has barely begun. He suspects you just like the thrill of gacha and are desperate for a five star. Weren’t you saving up for Xianyun? No matter.

Xiao knows you’ll never stop using him. You love him too dearly and sunk cost fallacy has effectively reeled you in, stored you away in a grimy little box. You’ve invested too much into Xiao to cast him aside now. But the Wanderer…

Barbara trots out the house just as the sky darkens, a cloudy depression opening up in the heavens. The Wanderer finally stops ranting, something about loyalty and actually amusing gameplay. Barbara puts the Tome of Eternal Flow away with a gasp upon noticing the giant HOLE in the sky (how did she just notice? Why is she gasping at the wishing screen when you open it thrice a day?) and gently nudges Faruzan out of her dysania to welcome home the newest anemo dps. Faruzan sniffles. Poor woman. It can’t be easy, dealing with him and the (thankfully, now quiet) ex Fatuus.

You pull. Xiao doesn’t bother holding his breath. It might as well be Bennett pulling, really because recently you’ve been getting exactly nothing of value. Another Faruzan, a Gorou for some godforsaken reason, four rainslashers, and so forth.

“Perhaps you’ll avoid your fourth betrayal,” Xiao muses. The Wanderer shoots him a startled glare, then laughs.

“Perhaps. You’re lucky, twink- NO!”

“Chasca, Flower-Feather Clan. Any disputes you need me to end for you? Depending on the situation, it could cost you a little di-“

✦—————————————✦

All things considered, it’s been a strange few years for Xiao. Since the game’s inception, he’s known he would be consigned to a solitary fate. He’s not a straightforward person, or particularly honest. He’s troublesome to play and troublesome to speak with. His chronicles are drenched in blood and anguish, quietly nestled away in softly murmured dialogue, artifact descriptions and optional adventures. Whatever love he was once showered with had long since washed away by the years that came after. And yet...

People continued to bother reaching past his exterior, reaching about with tender fingers. Wanting to know. Wanting to learn. They spoke of him. They took soft little bunches of their finite time and spun it into stories of him, art of him, words and adoration whispered and passed among one another in the communities they formed- that came together all because of their love for him.

It never failed to astonish him, fill him with gratitude so copious it was difficult to contain at times. It always drove him a bit insane- people loved him enough to painstakingly learn about him, strengthen him. That he was significant enough to sow the seeds of friendship formed by the common love felt for him.

Thinking about it makes him feel a bit silly. He’s just a character. He wonders if the others think about this as well (not Qiqi for sure) but he’s glad to have brought people someone real comfort after his fictional atrocities. Mortals… humans. He snorts a bit. He’ll try a bit harder to crit for you tomorrow.

[nuetralizedevangelist]

❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

[last-herondale]

Almost Pt. 2

Bucky POV (W/ FemReader)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

Tw: some mild curse words

AN: Hellooooo. I had an idea for a part two! Two fics in one week? Who do I think I am? 😳 anyway here is Bucky’s point of view on what happened after part one! Will link below! Maybe this will be a new series? Idk feeling ambitious 🤣

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been six weeks since Steve’s party. Six agonizing weeks of silence. Forty-two days of not hearing your voice. One thousand and eight hours of not seeing you smile at my stupid jokes. Sixty thousand, four hundred, and eighty minutes of not seeing the light dance in your eyes whenever you saw me enter the room. Three million, six hundred thousand twenty eight, and eight hundred seconds since I saw you walk away from me during that party after confessing your love for me.

You said you needed time. I respected that. I understood that.

After you bared your soul to me, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That you deserved better. It was difficult to stand there and see the light die from your eyes as I said these things. It was painful to see you cry, knowing that I had been the one to cause you that pain. But it was devastating for me to realize that despite how much I loved you, how much I cared for you, that the words I said were still true. Agonizingly so.

I expected that this type of honesty would destroy our friendship. Even though I still held out hope in my selfish mindset that we could continue on like we had in the past. Spending our free nights together, laughing, joking, having fun together, sharing memories, crying, hugging, everything we used to do…

But of course, those dreams had not come into fruition.

When you volunteered to be shipped out of the country for a mission the day after Steve’s party, I knew it was to get away from me. And despite my frustration and worry about you leaving on some dangerous mission without me in the state you were in, Steve assured me that you would be fine. He didn’t know the extent of what happened, but Steve being the inquisitive son of a bitch he is, he was able to connect some of the dots at least. Surprisingly he didn’t lecture or judge me. I was expecting to get an earful from him about how I treated you, led you on, and hurt your feelings, but in return I got nothing.

The mission was only supposed to last for two weeks, but as the days grew longer, the whole team was on edge when the two of you didn’t return. Steve kept communications with Tony, and he would pass along the messages to the rest of us. “They hit a snag. They are safe but they are bunking down for a bit.”

I felt like I was on pins and needles. I just needed to know you were safe, that you were okay. I must have looked worse for wear around the tower, because even Nat noticed and had a conversation with me in my room. It was a little strange. Having her back in my apartment, alone, her fiery gaze still as piercing as it was when we were together. But those feelings I held for her were gone. Something else lingered there, a fondness for the time we had, but nothing more.

I knew she was your best friend, so I assumed you told her everything about what happened at the party, but when she came into my apartment with a stern gaze on me, arms crossed and all, all she said was.

“I don’t know what happened the other night at Steve’s party, but you need to stop moping and get a grip.”

“I’m fine. Stay out of it,” I said with an icy tone.

Nat just rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. “If you don’t feel anything for her, then stay away or get your shit together. She cares about you too much to walk away from you, Bucky.” Nat’s voice grew softer as she thought of you. “Whenever she comes back, and she will come back, she needs to heal. She cannot continue to be your emotional support puppet. It's draining her, James. Every time she returns from hanging out with you I see less and less of her return. She cannot continue to give you all of her heart when she is receiving none of it back.

“So for her sake, please, let her go.”

It was a hard thing to hear, but it was necessary. I stopped driving myself mad with when you would return. It was difficult, maddeningly so, but after another week I was able to distract myself enough with other things… other people. I did a few missions here and there, nothing that took me out of the country, but it filled some of the time I had to think about you.

I spent time with Nadia, the girl I had gone on a few dates with, the girl I had broken your heart over. Our relationship was purely physical. She was another distraction, someone to pass the time with. She didn’t seem to mind the distance I put between us. We weren’t exclusive by any means, and she was free to explore all of her options, but that was as far as that would go. Not that I could ever tell you this, even though I wanted to.

That was the shittiest part of it all. I missed you. Constantly. I missed talking with you about every single part of my day. I missed hearing about your day, or the silly little thoughts that swirled in your curious head. I missed spending my weekends with you, staying up until the sun rose, seeing you curled up in a ball on my couch, sleeping so peacefully. The ache in my chest never ceased, but I was able to drown away the thought of you for moments at a time.

And then you returned.

It was like a blow to the heart, seeing you standing in the kitchen, casually making yourself a bowl of cereal. Your skin seemed tanner than when you left. Clearly you had been somewhere where the sun kissed your skin for long periods of time. You looked beautiful, even just in your morning casual wear. You hadn’t noticed me yet. I was frozen in the entryway, trying to think of something intelligible to say to you, when Steve walked in through the other way. He too had not noticed me yet, his skin also sunkissed and a bit long.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, I watched as my best friend slid his arms around your waist, turned you around in a swift and gentle motion, and kissed you. Ice filled my veins and it felt as if a rock had dropped in my stomach. I staggered backwards a bit, hiding myself more in the darkness of the archway as I saw the scene unfold.

Steve was kissing you. His hands were gentle around your waist, and although you were taken by surprise in the moment, you stood on your toes to be more on his level. You cupped his face and smiled. You were smiling. You looked…happy.

I slipped away back down the hallway and into my room before I could see more. The image of my best friend kissing the love of my life was burned into my mind. I sat on my bed in a disgruntled mess, fighting the strange waves of feelings that were swirling in my body.

You were finally back. You were safe. At that I was able to release the tension in my chest that I had been holding since you left. And then… Steve. What had changed during those six weeks you were gone? Was it serious? Did you love him? Did he love you? These questions paced back and forth inside of my brain until I was nearly dizzy.

It was the memory of Nat’s voice that stuck out amongst my own thoughts. “Let her go.”

You had been happy in that kitchen. Steve was a good man, too good to play with someone’s feelings if he didn’t truly feel something for them. Steve was good for you. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The reason why I broke your heart in the first place? To set you free to find someone that would love you in all the ways I was incapable of doing. Why was I mad that you had done that? Why did I want to punch Steve for kissing you?

I clenched my fists as I sat on the bed. My body shook with so much emotion. In the torental storm that was my mind, I tried to focus on one memory. The only one that mattered. That night on the balcony. You had stood there, hair swirling in the breeze, more beautiful than the night sky. And you said it.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words calmed me. The memory of that night grounded me. Your tears. Your sadness. Your anger. I caused that. “I’m in love with you.” That is what you told me. And even though I wanted to scream it back, to shout it from the roof that I loved you too, instead I denied you. I threw it back in your face to save you from what I am. I hurt you, and this was my punishment. Seeing you pick up the pieces of that love that I shattered and give it to someone who would nurture that love.

I sat there thinking and thinking, until my head was pounding. I laid down on my bed, the image of you kissing someone else burning in my head.

“I’m in love with you too,” I muttered to myself.

Then, as tears began to silently fall down my face, I began to laugh.

[dmc-tings]

Loved the take on not writing what you do not enjoy. It made me think, as though I hated Netflix Devil May Cry, I just cannot hate Dante. Anyway. I respect your opinion. So I'm requesting something and see if you're comfortable with it.

Can I request DMC 5 Dante who has a teenage daughter. How he reacts and navigates through challenges like her getting first period (her mother is around, but it's just she was not there when it happened), boys trying to hit on her (I mean she got Sparda genes and those beautiful white hair), her trying to experiment with wardrobe which might not be so appropriate for underage girl (I know Dante isn't one to care about what a girl wears, but from perspective of underage), or her trying to be very assertive about going on mission or worse wanting to see demon world.

I love detailed ones like this. Tee-hee

Im the eldest out if two. And my dad was a single parent so... I know the look of horror on a dad's face when it comes to this.

(Reader is F: afab and Dante's kid, so read appropriately. TW: menstrual times mentioned)

Dante: A Girl Dad

Alright. So. When is wife was on that bed, pushing YOU OUT, he didn't expect a girl.

Cue, the 6'5 devil hunter passing out

BIG THUMP

But he hopped back up like a champ when you cried out

DAD MODE ACTIVATED (He didn't know he had that one)

Yes. He lunged at the doctor, half-devil triggered

(SKIPPING FORWARD A BIT)

Oh. It started in 6th grade. You came home with, fucking, FUCKING VALENTINES

"Where..." *angry demon dad noises* "where'd you get all those sweetie?"

"Boys at school." You innocently spoke, dumping the ones without candy in the trash

He smiled at that. He didn't care if you played boys for money.

But when you came home with all sorts of gifts!? He went to the school and "Karened Out"

The superintendent had to get involved.

It was a fiasco in Redgrave

"Devil Hunter's Daughter: Off limits"

Hehe; until you got older

But... sadly, puberty isn't kind.

12. You were twelve years old

The morning hadn't gone well.

Your stomach hurt. And your body... just... wasn't right.

You told mom. And she looked you over sympathetically. Considering whether or not-

"Nah. She's fine." Papa Dante nodded.

(MIND YOU HE DID SMELL SOMETHING OFF ABOUT YOU LATELY. MOODY TEEN HE BRUSHED IT OFF, DESPITE MOM TELLING HIM SOMETHING WAS UP)

So you went to school

Then it happened, oh God.

You didn't even say anything to the teacher!

You thought you just needed to go to rhe bathroom

Only to... feel nauseous at the... blood.

It was blood from the... South end.

You always had your phone.

Can't call Mom. She's out on a mission.

There was no way in hell you'd call Vergil. Or Nero. Or- just none of them...

Too embarrassing

"Devil May-"

"Dad..."

Your cry made him fucking run colder than an icebox in an Alaskan blizzard

"Babycakes what's wrong."

You explained through your tears. You were so scared and it broke his heart.

He kept you on the phone. Scrambling through his wife's stuff. He grabbed the emergency box.

Clutch Mom. It was for this EXACT SITUATION!

"Im comin baby. Papa's coming."

He jumped right on whatever altered devil arm, and sped to the school

He raised hell. And they had a female office worker walk you to the front.

He ushered you to the bathroom.

And handed you the emergency bag.

When you came out he didn't say anything.

Hugs and promises to get you back home.

He signed you out and got you home

And that was that. He and mom tag teamed making sure you were well taken care of

Ah... but you're a Sparda.

While hands weren't thrown, attitudes were

It was cute, you walking around in princess dresses, tutu's, crowns and fairy wings... when you were little.

Hell, he could dress you like a lil boy and you were happy!

Now... it was all... the short skirts and... the tight jeans.

"Ah, where are you going?"

16. You were 16. Walking around like the strippers at Love Planet!

His heart broke, his lil girl was dressed so... promiscuously!

You rolled your eyes. He really was a vibe killer

"Dad. I'm just going to the mall."

Who gave you money? He was often broke.

Your fuckin mom... ugh.

"Lemme come with."

You just slammed the shop door, hopping into your friends car

Oh... he felt so left out... you used to be his best buddy...

You really hurt him

When you got home he was moping on the couch

The next day, your mom had talked to you.

You didn't mean to but he was so clingy with you. You didn't like it. And, you explained that to her

"Just talk to him about boundaries."

It was a long talk. But compromises happened: you dressed in APPROPRIATE clothes, and he backed off.

Sides, Dante was a laid back enough dad...

You didn't get a real boyfriend until you were 18

He... hated him. Yup. Dante hated the boy you brought home.

You were DANTE'S DAUGHTER: No matter what your mixed with that silver hair and blue eyes caught everyone's attention

So when you finally picked one... and you didn't pick a "cool" or "popular" guy

This dude was normal. He just... kind a was there

Dante was displeased. The boy was a loser.

Well... you argued he was a loser and her mom stayed with him

*Cue Mom smugly around the corner with wine*

Dante relented, learning that... you didn't pick a dummy

Your boyfriend, was actually really smart. Even Nico was impressed and let the guy tinker with devil arms...

Dante had to relent more... accepting the fact that the boyfriend was a good fit...

Speaking of devil arms...

Your 21st birthday; Dad had promised to let you start missions.

It was the family business and your boyfriend had been more than welcomed in the shop, working...

"Just... stick close kiddo, ok? Don't give your poor Papa and Mama heart attacks..."

You rolled your eyes

"I'll stick as close as possible Dad."

He looked... happy but worried.

You were armed as you liked

Devil arms you picked out or your boyfriend made for you, strapped to your body

Oh God he wished he would have left you home.

No. Not because you got hurt...

It was a swarm. A small damned army, that came for them when they attacked the nest.

And a brute almost caught you up

Dante took the full hit, but that didn't hurt either

What hurt was: you and your mother crying trying to shake him awake.

He grabbed both of you.

"Hey. Hey. A knock to the dome ain't enough to kill me. Ya'll know that..."

But he felt his heart sink at your sobs

He got scolded after the Queen was killed

You clung to him, almost everywhere he went.

For about a month, then he reassured you he'd not do something so dumb again...

He still didn't let you go on missions alone

But... of course, the universe has its own plans...

And he had to let you handle things, a big boss was in the next space... and while Nero and Vergil could handle it... He hesitated, leaving you alone.

Your mother was on the furthest side dealing with another breaching crowd of demons... Lady and Trish were on another set of ends...

"Dad. Go. I'll be ok."

He still didn't move. For once, he didn't have a smartass comment. The fear grabbed the air out of his lungs

"No."

He pushed you behind him.

"Im not leaving you alone."

One of the few times he dug his heels in, only for you take out his knees, and jump on his back, trapping him in a headlock

"You listen here, Old Man! You don't trust me?!"

GODDAMNED IT. YOU WERE YOUR MOTHER'S CHILD

he yanked you off him, sealing you with an arm lock

"No, kid... that ain't it."

How the fuck do you tell your kid, your daughter... You're scared?

You struggled like a pissed off kitten

"Then WHAT?"

Dante let you go.

When you sprang up, you glared at him

Only to see your dad, the Devil Hunter, afraid.

"I can't lose ya. You're too important."

He was shaking

You took a deep breath and walked up to him

"You've gotta trust me. Like you trust Mom. And she's fully human. That's gotta count right?"

Fuck... you had him there...

"Besides. Vergil and Nero sound like their getting beat down."

You gave him a small push.

He slowly started to walk... watching you as he backed away

You... definitely had alot of your Mom there... but alot of him.

He couldn't stop the stupid smile that crossed his face.

You were an adult.

Even more, he couldn't stop the stupid smile that stretched across his face

"I get it."

He did. You were an adult now.

By letting you handle your own, he was letting go a little bit more.

You were the blood of Sparda and he didn't train you for nothin.

[brainwasheddd]

Hello :]

What are some outsiders hcs you have?

YAY!!!!!

Ponyboy:

- absolutely CANNOT sleep alone. One time Darry was out on a skiing trip and soda decided to stay the night with Steve and he just stayed up all night. Then when everyone came home he dragged soda to their room and forced him to just lay down in bed with him so he could sleep a few hours

- this isn’t really a headcanon because it’s in the book but he’s a really good liar, mostly because he’s a writer and has a such a big imagination. He can get out of any situation with a lie if he tries hard enough, professional gaslighter

Sodapop:

- likes sad movies and cries over them. He gets bored over most movies but when they’re sad he gets invested and turns into a huge bawl baby, especially ones with horses

- one time he tried on Sandy’s lip gloss as a joke and he couldn’t stop staring at himself and thinking about how it just looked right (transfem Sodapop?? I read a few fics like that and I love the concept so much)

Darry:

- needs at least an hour of being absolutely alone every day to unwind. It’s hard when there’s constantly people he has to look after but if he doesn’t get his time to recharge he’s more likely to snap at the gang

- still has Paul’s ring on a necklace in one of his drawers. He knows he should get rid of it, they’re never getting back together and holding onto it is just making him feel worse, but he can’t bear the thought of throwing it out

Johnny:

- can’t sleep without noise of some kind (cars, crickets, anything). That’s why he chooses the lot over the Curtis house even when it gets cold, he can’t bear the silence. Darry catches on and starts leaving the TV on a low volume for him so he can sleep

- really good at drawing. He rarely does it and only ever doodles on napkins or the margins of worksheets, but when he does it’s amazing. Ponyboy tells him if he ever becomes a published author he’s gonna hire Johnny to do the cover art.

Dally:

- never has his back to the door/always keeps the exit in his line of sight. Even just hanging out with the gang, he’s constantly paranoid he’ll need to escape quickly, so he keeps an eye on the exit just in case

- grew up catholic. His mother took him to church every Sunday, and he kept going for a little bit after she died. But as he got more involved in the gangs of New York, he stopped going and started feeling like he didn’t deserve to step foot in a church anymore. But at the same time, he felt guilty for not going, like he was betraying his mother and god. Catholic guilt is strong in this one

Two-Bit:

- brings his little sister along to hang out with the gang sometimes. They all love her to death and would do anything for her. When she gets her first boyfriend, they all give him their own version of a shovel talk, with Two-Bit’s being the most detailed and scariest because he completely loses his usual joking demeanor

- regularly threatens to kill or at least seriously harm Johnny’s parents and Steve’s dad. Everyone thinks he’s joking because it’s Two-Bit, he’s always joking, but he’s not. He’d go to prison for his friends if it meant they were safe. They offhandedly mention getting a bad beating and he goes “want me to take care of them for you?” And they just laugh it off

Steve:

- we all know Pony’s an unreliable narrator. Steve actually does care about Ponyboy a lot, he just doesn’t show it too well. But he gives him candy and soda from the DX, lets him help fix up cars, and sometimes if he’s out with soda and sees something he knows pony will like like a cool calligraphy set, he’ll swipe it and make soda give it to him and say it wasn’t from him. It’s just that sometimes he likes his alone time with soda, and he can be a little brash, but he certainly doesn’t hate the kid

- sleeps in the lot almost as much as Johnny. He and Johnny are really close because of it, sometimes they’ll stay up together and just talk all night. Johnny’s death hit him really hard, and he couldn’t sleep in the lot for months after, no matter how hard it got with his dad

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 18

MASTERLIST

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Summary: The Tarnished takes a perilous journey. Messmer broods in his fortified Keep.

A/N: This chapter will pretty much be the route to Enir-Ilim, as I'm too lazy to write word for word, I'm keeping the details simple, lol. Some things also don't follow in the game, but I think we all know that by now.

Happy reading, folks! This one is long.

A03 link

Chapter 18: Deliverance

As you storm out of Messmer's halls, anger boils within you, telling yourself not to turn back. Your dress is a whirl of crimson and fury, dancing around you the faster you walk, and you're more intent on ripping it to ribbons as you go.

You wish to make a statement to Messmer and the anger he's caused, how he didn't listen for the sake of being stubborn, but most of all, he didn't listen to you, someone you had thought he may have grown affections for. 

You could only laugh bitterly: your attempts for love, for friendship, to be one in someone's arms, thrown back in your face. Over and over again. If it told you anything, Messmer was one to keep his feelings close and danced around who he liked and disliked, including you.

Tears gleamed in your vision, blurring your sight, but you still managed to find your way, tearing at your sleeves as you ascended the lift alone, wiping your eyes, knowing you had no one to console you.

You felt like some love-sick girl for falling to like Messmer, for putting your emotions over your mission. He was a demi-god after all, born from Marika's craft. You wiped your eyes, but despite it, the tears kept coming. You wanted to curse out Messmer, his men, the cause you tried to stop, but most of all, you could only curse the one who started it all.

Screw Marika, her golden Order, and her torment from beyond whatever state she now existed in.

The lift groaned to a halt as you sped-walked up to your apartments, ripping your remaining garments off as you dressed simply in trousers, riding boots and a shirt. You could claim your items and armour when you found a site of Grace, but for now, you needed to leave as quickly as possible, without stirring further chaos.

As quick as you are in the room, you are out, wearing your helm that you've long forgotten wearing to shield your face, to hide your tired and worn eyes from his soldiers and Messmer, if you saw him. You do not need to feel those sudden emotions again if you ran into him, for him to see how upset he made you.

No, you would wear your armour with pride, it is a Tarnished's way after all.

Your heart clenches at the coldness when he called you just by Tarnished, nothing else.

Did he only take me to his bed for the thrill of it all? You dismiss it as quickly as you can, running until you find the courtyard.

You dare not even look over your surroundings, summoning Torrent with a whistle from your ring, you climb on and bring him to a full sprint out before he has fully materialised into existence. You cannot make yourself look back, for the tears flow heavily, and you do not wish for any to see you weep.

I am a Tarnished, always and forever. You tell yourself, the heavy gate is opened for you as if it was expected all this time, you head west, only west. 

As your figure retreats out of the keep, Messmer watches on from his balcony, his face is guarded by his red flaming hair, but his fist is clenched, scratching into the stone.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It feels like an eternity until you feel as if Messmer or his men will not follow you; that is when your mind does not feel so conflicted. 

You continue west until you come across the ancient ruins of Rauh. Opening the doors, you hop back onto Torrent, striding through and not stopping until you've made it out. The dark, wet abyss is one you're disgusted by, bugs are the next, but you bypass them to continue onwards, until you find the outside world greets you. The fresh air hits you, heavy with moss and decay. You follow your map, heading east for a time until you spot the golden glint of something in the middle of the path.

The cross stands in splendid glory, one for his followers to be in awe of. You, instead, begrudgingly hop off Torrent and approach it. You can feel the pull, a sweet lull of pretend fulfilment that awaits, but instead, you reach past it, plucking from it the Scadutree fragment and trudging over to the site of Grace.

You receive your armour once as you turn your fragments to strength, to help you endure what awaits before you continue onwards, over the long bridge as you traverse across on Torrent. It is not difficult to spot the Giant Fire Golem that travels, and even though it has spotted you, it does not attempt to attack you.

Messmer's doing, I wonder. You scoff as you continue, thinking to yourself if Messmer does have eyes on you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You find the ruins past a ridge, another site of Grace, sitting there for some time until day turns to night, and you rest up, eating simply at some dried liver that does not calm your nerves. You pass the time by not sleeping and giving some sweets to Torrent. Your companion is sweet in allowing you to rest your back against his side, talking to him throughout the night, knowing he will not tire himself.

By the site of grace, there's another fragment, one of Miquella's and your stomach clenches in dread. You continue onwards, despite your body wishing to rest until the night's sky turns into brighter colours. You greet the dawn as you pass through the upcoming ruins until the smell of moss and the outside turns to something much too foul that you turn your nose at.

Rot, but not any type of rot, you recognise the red hue and don't dare touch it, its foulness is wretched beyond anything you've seen before in the Lands Between. You've seen it in Caelid, in rivers that ran red, and in Miquella's twin, Malenia, and what it rendered her.

You don't want to imagine what awaits you in this place you're about to walk through: you've only heard the rumours through the wars that Messmer participated in.

You brace yourself for the worst as you had for the elevator, riding it up as you find the final site of Grace awaiting you before you head through the entrance way. 

The Church of the Bud, as the map has it named, is what you expect from a place surrounded by rot, but it is indeed a ruin. You step forth, clutching your Nagakiba tightly as you enter, rot and flowers hit you with great nausea. The great columns of the church have been destroyed, its roof a heap and open to the elements; it is clear something or someone had brought it to its knees in ash and brimstone. 

The walls are blackened beyond what they once were; what thing had to lurk in these walls to bring this place to such ruin? 

Your question was answered by the slick, sickening sound, the scraping of natural hardened armour brought your attention to move out of the way, to witness a horrid blackened scorpion's tail slam into the ground. You rolled, dreading what it would feel like if that went through your armour and into your skin. You didn't think much of it, dodging again to avoid its stinger and the rot that you're being encircled by.

You look up, seeing not just a scorpion's tail, but attached to a centipede, a woman whose body it is combined with. She is both horrifying and beautiful, despite the scarlet rot she's afflicted with, charging towards you, tails sharp and ready to pierce you.

Somberly, you charge forth for the first time, Messmer's flame, a burning bright flame that does not scorch you, but the sight is something that brings the ground to shake and shudder beneath you suddenly. The insectoid lady rears back in horror, halting her approach, a screech coming from her mouth, tails curled up as if you were Messmer's mini version.

"Foul, impure," she hisses, spinning around you, curled like a viper, her body is already lunging at you, "I'll be rid of thee."

You can only sigh, hoping the splitting headache you carry will diminish.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Cleansing your blade, the nagakiba takes off the rot with ease, scrubbing with some muttered prayers in hopes that the remnants have gone. You don't wish to stay longer in the Church opening, not with rot making you feel so queasy. Despite defeating who you know now was Romina, Saint of the Bud, the reminder of her still lingers, from the soft pink glowing hues to the pink butterflies that still float around you. 

The guilt hit you hard when you realised she had been a victim of Messmer's crusade, of his Mother's doing, you remind yourself. He was simply a soldier in her war, and despite telling yourself you're still angry at him, there is a loneliness that has hit you now that you're alone with your thoughts.

You miss his eccentricities, his mannerisms and aloof wit, but he was one you kept coming to, yearning to know more of him, regardless of how much or little he gave to you. You missed the warmth he provided, the serpents that showed what their master was really feeling, wrapping around you in the cold of night. 

Cleaning yourself finally of rot on your clothing, you sigh dejectedly, knowing that on the map awaits what is the tree that cuts you from where Miquella is, and most of all, Leda.

"May this drama cease?" You ask into the open air, the stress on your mind has taken a toll on your body, the scrapes and aches in your bones are leaving you wishing you could turn back around, back to the Keep, and back into Messmer's arms. But you didn't want to give him that vindication, that satisfaction from him to tell you, 'I told thee so' in that archaic tone.

No, no matter what, you wouldn't do that, you came so far, you can dread him when this is all over.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖕

The rain slashed across his window, a hideous howl slicing through the air. Claps of thunder shake the ground, yet Messmer watches on from the comforts of his war room. He stalks like a gargoyle, ever vigilant of everything and the ins and outs of his Keep. He manages everything accordingly to strict procedure, knowing of the ongoing change of guards, the patrols across the courtyard, the supply runs, and even those relaying information from neighbouring camps.

His soldiers know all; they're his eyes, the ones to tell him of all, not just of Miquella, not of the sightings of his followers, but to keep an eye out for the Tarnished.

He tries to push himself away from this, to keep his mind occupied with his intel, but it's some morbid, curious part of him, silently begging to ask the question when he knows he will always get an answer. He knows where you are, he knows when you take rest and for how long. Last his men heard of you, you had just entered the Church of the Bud, and Messmer recognises the name, his attention has piqued.

The church is at least two days away by riding, and he's silently impressed that you got there so quickly. It would've taken a small band of his men a week's worth of marching to reach there. 

He remembers the church well, the stench of the putrefy, the death that could not even be extinguished with his flame. Everything had to die - his mother told him once - it was lightless, unclean, even that Saint-

-"My Lord," the voice beside him was soft, so soft that he hadn't even heard who had entered. The rainfall had drowned out both his thoughts and the outside world, now, he drowned in being alone.

He turned, his healer and friend, Aldwin, had entered with a guard at the door to let him in, shutting it immediately. "My friend." Messmer greets him in hushed tones, resuming to stare out the window.

Aldwin moves slowly, his body is dwarfed in comparison to the jaws of the Keep and of the Lord, but the Nightfolk does not cower in front of Messmer, instead, he stands with knowing he's his equal. "The rain has not ceased all day. They say it will be another night before we see the end of it."

"How doth thee knoweth this?"

"I feel it in my bones." Aldwin gives a wry smile, crooked but reaching his milky eyes. "T'is a gift old age has given me."

Messmer chuffs softly, hiding his amusement, "Thy age hast not dull'd thy wits." 

"I dread for that day," Aldwin answers, and though Messmer's attention is drawn to the window, he is aware that Aldwin is here not just to discuss the weather. "What hath brought thee here?"

"My Lord, forgive me for my brazenness, but it has been some time since you last called for me to aid you." The Nightfolk is candid yet straightforward with his wording, but Messmer understands what he means. The dull aches he feels in his muscles, the serpent within... It's dormant, was, before you left.

Now, it gnaws at him like a starved dog with a bone, whispering to him in the back of his mind, cackling like a wight until he feels as if he's losing it. He hears it now stronger than it ever was before, once when he could ignore it, when he was with you-

"Aye," the redhead lies, "T's nothing more than a nuisance to me."

Aldwin is a man who wears his emotions clearly, showing concern for the demigod, "My Lord, your pain ails me, it is my role as your healer to aid you-"

"I am fine," he snaps, but stops himself from truly cracking, recoiling back to softer tones. He finds any excuse quickly. "Forgive me, my friend. The nights grow long, and I findeth I can in nay manner slumber."

"Shall I provide you with a stronger wine, my Lord?"

"I cannot standeth the bitter taste."

"What... what could I provide for you in aid?"

The Tarnished. He wants to say. He wants someone to pluck her out of her silly mission, to bring her back to be in his arms. How foolish he was to let her go so easily. Upon thinking what their master thinks, Eos and Fos release themselves from the confines beneath Messmer's cloak, whispering their words of encouragement to him in his mind. 

He almost scoffs when they both suggest going out and finding her.

Sensing his healing aid is not needed, Aldwin slowly shuffles away to the doors. "If you need me, Lord Mes-"

"-Didst I maketh a misprision in letting her go, Aldwin?"

The Nightfolk halts, turning slowly as he had heard the Golden Prince Godwyn had returned from the dead. "Pardon?"

"Thou art mine own oldest friend besides Gaius. I wouldst ask him myself if he were not out patrolling." Messmer turns slowly, thoughtfully, resting against the chair but not sitting. His golden eye peers across to milky coloured ones. "Answer me truthfully."

"My friend, I have known you for a very long time." Aldwin speaks slowly, trying to find the right words, "I am aware, you and the Tarnished had grown... fond of one another. Enjoying each other's presence. Perhaps she has grown in time to regret her decision."

She heads for Enir-Ilim. The next timeth I shall hear from her is if 't be true she cometh to me whole or just her head. He dreads.

He thinks what she could be thinking whilst she is with her thoughts, if she dares, dwells on knowing she misses him just as he does. There is one thing on his mind and it has not left his mind, the very image of her is burnt into his soreseal, and he wishes to be with her once more. For now, he can only hope he gathers the strength, both within himself and for his soldiers and keep.

"Very well." Messmer tries not to show his emotions, but it reads in the way he strokes the coiled side of one of his winged serpents. Aldwin turns to leave before hearing a final request. "The stout wine shalt aid me just fine."

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖉

Morning comes when you feel something kick your boot. Alert yet dazed, you flick the rusty dagger you had gripped in your hand all night towards your supposed attacker, your guard relaxing upon seeing the sight of a familiar face. "You scared the crap out of me." 

"Keep your wits about, Lady Tarnished." Ansbach coolly replies, stepping over you, reaching through his belongings idly as you watch quietly. You want to ignore the dream you had been having before you had been harshly awoken: in the silken sheets in the Lord of the Shadow Keep's chambers, snuggly embraced by him. You wanted to dismiss the way his arms felt so real around you, that you had silently hoped it had been real.

Sadly, you had come to remember your whereabouts, sitting just outside the Church of the Bud, steps away from the entrance to Enir-Ilim. You gathered your things, walking side by side with Ansbach as you took in the fortified and imposing sight. It had been something from dreams of another distant land, floating in the air in mightiness, you could not help but marvel.

Between you, hooded, shadowed figures knelt, and when you slowly approached one of them, you could hear the silent yet persistent mutterings that took some time to understand:

ᴏ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴜʀꜱ, ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪɴ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ. ᴏ ʟᴏꜰᴛʏ ꜱᴘɪʀᴀʟ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴꜱ. ʟᴇᴀᴅ ʜɪᴍ ꜱᴀꜰᴇʟʏ ᴜɴᴛᴏ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ɢᴏᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴅɪᴠɪɴɪᴛʏ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴀʟᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

"Let us be on our way." Ansbach brought your attention back to what was guarding those out: the blackened, twisted vines, almost as thick as rope.

You stared at it a second longer before realising what you must do, clutching your palms outwards, you uttered. "Here goes nothing." 

The flames reached out, reddened flames clutched to the bark that it caught aflame quickly, burning like cloth to the ground in front of you. It didn't take long for the path to be cleared, and when you turned to Ansbach expectantly, he too looked in silent awe.

"Let us go." You spoke first, stepping forth with Ansbach behind. On you both went, knowing it led towards certain doom.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝕶𝖊𝖊𝖕

The heavy gates groan with life as they lifted open. Rain continues to pour and slash, darkening Messmer's hair and clothing, but he remains somber as he walks solemnly out of his hiding.

His skin had turned frail, the bags under his eyes heavier, but the feeling in his chest had not once settled. Not when he guilt-tripped himself into telling himself his mother wouldn't want it, how Marika would disapprove, for showing weakness for another-- but where was she now but trapped?

In all his years, he wrote to her in correspondence, begging for her return, those centuries passed, and he had heard nought. 

No more. He told himself. No more would he sit and wait, waiting for her word.

He had sat and waited, witnessed and watched, but he would finally be a participant.

"My Lord," A voice calls for him, but he chooses to ignore it. The mount brought forth to him is large and formidable, one he used in his conquests many times before; now, he would call upon it again. "My lord, where are you going?" Messmer turns to look down upon his closest ally, Gaius, emerging to stand beside him.

"Shalt I prepare mounts, Lord Messmer?"

"Nay," Messmer answers coolly, " The keep is under thy gaze whilst I am gone." 

"My Lord?-"

"I am a fool for letting her go, but I knoweth I cannot keep her to mine own side," he continues, swinging his long leg effortlessly over the beast, a crack of thunder illuminates across the cobbled ground, enlarging his silhouette. He feels giant, a feeling of triumph erupts through his chest, "Mine own purpose hast not been broken, and I has't a tarnished I wilt findeth."

-

A/N: Knew I had to include my gal Romina in this, but I didn't want to include a fight scene. This is a conflict between Messmer and the Tarnished; both are trying to live and do their missions without the other and are failing miserably. Tarnished realises she has to allow people to come and go in her life, whilst Messmer needs to allow people to have input, not just his mother.

But yay, now he's coming for her, but is it to help or to drag her by her ear?

[chickenkupo]

I Just Want My Tea

Summary:

Wriothesley, the busy man that he is, doesn’t notice that his tea stash is getting rather low, no thanks to Sigewinne taking her share since she considers it payback for what Neuvillette and him put her through once he was claimed. It wasn’t until after a shift at the Fortress of Meropide, however, that he noticed this. After going to the home that he and his mate, Neuvillette, share, he vows that the next morning he will run to the nearest grocery market to take note of their goods, and purchase some more that suit his tastes perfectly. He drools just thinking about it. 

However, Neuvillette is starting to feel a sort of odd heat beneath his skin recently, and it only gets worse as the days go by. He constantly finds himself staring at his love when they are together, and when they are apart, he can only think of having his man back in his embrace, littering him with possessive affection and a viscous need. He’s finding it hard to let Wriothesley go anywhere without him, now, this heat feeling like it is reaching its peak. 

But, the man desperately wants his tea, and the dragon wants his man. The compromise? Why, of course the dragon sovereign is going to turn into a little noodle version of his full dragon form, and go with him! Why, you ask, would he do this?

Well, how else is he going to pleasure the both of them while out in public?

TLDR: Horny noodle dragon is in his heat and tries to get freaky with his mate while he just wants to do some simple grocery shopping. Chaos ensues.

Recommendations: For full context, please refer to I Promise and Now For the Next Act. This is considered a little side story before I continue on with the next 'serious' work in the series.

Warnings: 18+, though barely. Will be writing up some stuff to add onto this as a second chapter with even spicier content, but this story had to leave my head one way or another. Dubious content, public sexy behavior, slight mind manipulation.

SHOUT OUT TO MY AWESOME BETA READER, Gleth_Eldigande! Please, if you like my content, go and check out theirs here! I promise you'll enjoy it! ALSO SAY THANK YOU! They work hard to keep my lore together and keep me on track!

Author Note: IM BACK BBY! Finally wrote up my Noodle Dragon/Wriothesley story. I made it WAY LONGER than I intended to, but I don't care, here it is! Tumblr is getting 2 day early access to this, after which I will be posting to AO3 because, once more, I cannot write something short to save my life.

Sheeeeeesh, long enough intro, right? Well, let's get to the good shit!

•

•

•

Wriothesley groans as he holds his head, a small, yet persistent, headache forming. He knew what the exact cause was, and there was nothing he could do to cure it, currently. He had a few more appointments with new inmates to address, assigning them to their roles and housing, before he could leave the rest of the duties to Grace. Thankfully he had a few more moments until the next prisoners arrived for his council. His wrapped hands reached towards one of the side drawers of his massive desk, and after reviewing the contents (or lack thereof) once more, a defeated sigh escaped his lips. His wooden tea box that was consistently managed and previously well stocked had taken quite a hit logistically. He reckoned that he should have taken Sigewinne more seriously when she proclaimed that she was going to do some damage to the supplies.

“YOUR TEA IS FORFEIT!” She screamed, loud enough for Neuvillette to still remember, even with his then feral brain taking over and becoming the overprotective mate that he was now.

The Duke did not take her that seriously after the event, however. Neuvillette had informed him of what she proclaimed, as he was still passed out at the time, his body trying to process all of these new changes and get some sort of semblance of rest, for once. But, as he continued to stare down at the empty contents, he knew then that she kept to her word. He winces, a sharp pain shooting through his skull. Not only did the tea he drank help to calm his nerves after dealing with, to him, ridiculous situations most of the day, it also provided him with a level of caffeine to keep him awake. Now, not having a single drop of tea all day, his body was going into withdrawal. He desperately needed the energy, too. Not only did the constant appointments seem to drain his energy, but he also had the odd situation occurring at home.

Neuvillette, to be completely honest, was going full horny mode on him here recently, and it felt like every night it was getting worse. At this point, from what he experienced last night, he knew that the moment that he walked through the threshold of their home, the hydro dragon would once again pounce on him. The attack being sudden, as Neuvillette would probably assault his mouth with his own, his long dragon tail being released from its glamor spell and then wrap itself around Wriothesley’s legs, and halfway up his torso, holding him in place as Neuvillette would continue his assault. Then, literally get dragged into their bedroom, tossed onto the bed and be devoured as if he were some sort of feast for a god. Granted, Wriothesley loved every single second of it, but it would take so much energy out of him. They’d continuously partake in divine levels of intercourse for the remainder afternoon and well into the throes of night, until it was almost near time for him to get up and return back to the fortress, though he noticed the snarls and hisses thrown at him as he got up and ready. Never threatening to him, but he knew now how dragons would literally throw a hissy fit now. It was cute, yet slightly terrifying. 

So, yes, Wriothesley needed his tea, desperately. There was no way he could go through another night of this and live to tell the tale. He’d just have to stop by the grocery building in Fontaine before he headed home. As much as he did enjoy the meals provided to him in the Fortress of Meropide, only one of the grocers in Fontaine had his favorite flavor of tea bags and loose leaves in stock, and he never went down the cheap route when it came to his tea. The man had standards, you know. He’d be a little late getting home, and maybe Neuvillette wouldn’t really notice. It wouldn’t take that long, anyway. Just one quick little trip and return home, snagging a sample of the already brewed tea that they normally had on sample display should be enough to boost his energy levels, somewhat. Ever since his somewhat odd transformation, his body did recover much more swiftly regarding many different levels of exertion, than his previous, normal human body did. For that, he was grateful, though it did take a decent amount of time for him to mentally and emotionally adjust to such changes. Dragons were determined and possessive little fuckers, but at the end of the day, Wriothesley wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Sir! Two new inmates would like to come in for their meeting, would you care to have them come in now, or do you still need a moment or two?” One of the fortress guards addressed him from the other side of the room. They must have walked in while he was deep in thought, as he didn’t hear their footsteps at all. Thinking about how your horny mate was fucking your brains out the previous night and reliving those clips in your head will do that to you. Wriothesley closed the drawer that contained the empty tea box at his desk, and did his best to put on a look that didn’t show the now throbbing headache he was suffering from.

“Go on ahead, let them in, let’s get this done and over with.” He almost grumbled, pulling out their files and taking a brief overview before the two entered his office.

The Duke had barely finished his sentence before two figures came barging in, the guard having to help press against the two individuals to keep them at a respectable distance from Wriothesley. Not so much for his safety, but rather theirs. Wriothesley did pack a rather ferocious punch, but little did everyone know that he had an even more ferocious hydro dragon that would spill blood in less than a heartbeat if even a hair on Wriothesley’s head had been damaged. But the citizens of Fontaine didn’t need to know about that, not quite yet.

“WHY IS HER ASSIGNED BED LARGER THAN MINE? HER CRIMES ARE WAY WORSE THAN MINE, THIS ISN’T FAIR!” One of the women screeched out, pushing against the guard with each emphasis.

“WELL HER MEALS ARE BETTER QUALITY THAN ANYTHING I HAVE HAD HERE SO FAR AND I DEMAND RETRIBUTION!” The other woman rang out, also pushing against the poor, singular guard, who was doing a rather fine job of holding the line. They might need a raise after today.

“S-S-SIR!” The guard yelled out, looking for any sort of instruction or assistance in the current matter.

The Duke merely sighed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, the migraine now pulsing.

How the hell was he supposed to survive today?

•

•

•

What should have lasted five minutes felt like it lasted five hours. In reality, it did turn out to be a couple of hours that Wriothesley had to sit there, trying to make sense of the situation and figure out the best way to handle it while the poor guard held the two women back from causing not only a fight with Wriothesley, but also between each other. Grace, having stepped in to take over when she noticed she had not been called after, had truly saved him that day. He swiftly exchanged information with her, and eased himself out of the room while the Melusine tried to calm the entire situation down. At first he was nervous for her, but after turning around and looking at her crazed expression and wicked smile about facing a new challenge, he blinked, gave her a thumbs up and headed out swiftly. He didn’t have much time to spare at this point, or at all, so he needed to make this trip quick.

As much as he hated using the teleport points, mostly because it always left him with such an odd dizzy feeling after reaching his destination, he didn’t have much of a choice this time around. Touching the teleport point at the Fortress, he concentrated his energy to focus himself to travel to the central hub of Fontaine, where the shops were only a short walk away. The blue aura took over him as he closed his eyes, and felt his entire being travel from one distant location to the other. He wasn’t sure what else he could describe the sensations he was feeling when this happened, other than he felt like he was displaced in an unknown area before his being settled to where it should be. A part of him wanted to figure out the mechanics of these one day, but sometimes it was better left unknown and to just be happily taking advantage of its properties. 

As his body settled in the heart of Fontaine, he doubled over for a second, holding onto a concrete railing to gather himself. Normally it wouldn’t have affected him so badly, but with the thudding pain in his head still present, it only amplified the uncomfortable sensations he was going through. Wriothesley took a moment to take a deep breath, hold for a few seconds, and then slowly exhaled. He found that helped him level himself after teleportations, and it did end up alleviating a little bit. He would have normally spent more time taking it easy for a few more minutes, but he didn’t have that luxury at the moment. He was late, still needing at least a smidge of caffeine at this point, and he had a nagging feeling in his soul that Neuvillette was not happy with him not being at their home. He was seriously fucked, not that he really minded that, but he’d rather not pass out the second they get started. Oh no, he was going to wear that hydro dragon out if it was the last thing he did.

Once he fully gathered himself and his surroundings, he hurriedly walked himself closer to the grocer. Luckily, they were ones that stayed open later than the usual surrounding vendors, so he still had some time. Wriothesley noticed that the surroundings were getting darker, the sun must be setting. His suspicions were confirmed as the outdoor post lights that littered the city began to glow, offering a new form of illumination for those out wandering about. Yeah, there was no way he was going to make it back at a reasonable time. He cursed to himself but accepted the circumstances. Now wasn’t the time to wallow and be mad, he needed to get in, grab as many of the peppermint tea bags as he could, and bail. Wriothesley looked up and saw that he was maybe a half a block away at most, before something suddenly came crashing into his side, sending him flying into a nearby alleyway. He gasped and braced himself for impact into the concrete below, but was shocked when he noticed he didn’t feel any pain, just a very familiar weight on top of him. He didn’t even need to look up to notice who was now straddling him in the dark and hidden alleyway.

“For fuck’s sake, Neuv! Really?!” Wriothesley fussed at his mate in a harsh whisper, eyes narrowed at the dragon that was laying on top of him, noticing that he was in a more half transformed body. His horns were showing again, his hair more unruly and trailing down further, eyes more feral, fangs showing and a faded mirage of his actual draconic tail whipping back and forth behind him; a dragon studying his prey. 

It took a few seconds before Neuvillette replied, a hiss escaping his lips as his words left his mouth. “Yes, really…”

 

Wriothesley rolled his eyes, and then tried to push the man off of him, who didn’t budge at all. Blinking in confusion, and then trying again, he got the same result, with a hint of a growl from the man above him. Neuvillette lowered his head and started nuzzling down on Wriothesley’s neck near his mating mark, purring again, looking very reminiscent of the day when the claiming took place. A part of Wriothesley wanted to fade into bliss and let the hydro dragon have his way with him, but for now he had more blood rushing to his brain than his cock, which was starting to get harder by the second. They couldn’t do this out in the open, and Neuvillette sure as hell couldn’t reveal his form to the citizens of Fontaine like this. Well, brute force obviously wasn’t going to work. He had only one plan left that seemed to snap Neuvillette out of his feral fits like this, and technically it was true.

The Duke lifted one of his hands slowly, running it through Neuvillette’s hair, in a calming manner, letting him nuzzle further into his neck and breathing in his scent. The massive amount of heat radiating from Neuvillette indicated to Wriothesley that whatever he was going through was getting worse, so hopefully it wasn’t too late for him to listen to reason. 

“Babe, please. My head is throbbing right now, and I need some caffeine, okay? It’ll help lessen the pain and I can uh…actually be awake and last for what you got planned, eheh…plus, can you put away the whole…dragony bits? This is not the way to really reveal this sort of information, you know…” Wriothesley laughed nervously, his cheeks flushing with an intense blush, praying to the archons that this would actually work.

Neuvillette immediately stiffened as the words settled into his brain and he fully comprehended the situation, but the heat within his body was unrelenting. His two cocks, hard as the cement below them, were brushing against Wriothesley’s own erection, still tempting the two of them into further, dirtier deeds. The hydro dragon’s instincts were going wild, demanding relief for the two of them, and Wriothesley, though his scent was incredibly attractive to him, was severely lacking in his own scent being mixed in (even though, to be quite frank, if there were any other dragons around, they could definitely smell Neuvillette all over him), which made him even more irritable. But his mate was correct, and he needed to get himself together. Wriothesley was not rejecting him, and he needed to be a good mate and take care of him.

Almost immediately, the tail that was behind Neuvillette faded back away into nothingness, his horns began to recede, fangs and hair retracting back to their previous forms. A noticeable, and adorable, pout played on Neuvillette’s face as he started to remove himself from straddling his mate, offering him his hand as he pulled the two of them up so they were both standing casually in the alleyway. Wriothesley, as he was shaking the dust and dirt off of himself, started to scan his surroundings. It didn’t seem as though anyone had walked by while they had their little scene, a relieved sigh being released once he realized this.

“Listen, ba-” Wriothesley grunted, knowing he wasn’t whispering now and was addressing Neuvillette properly, as they were in public now and more easily noticeable than before. “Monsieur Neuvillette…” he corrected himself, and cringed at how that sounded now. He knew the hydro dragon didn’t like being referred to in that way by him, but knew that they had to keep up the formalities until the proper time presented itself. 

“I’ll be able to come back once I’ve grabbed what I need, real quick, alright? It shouldn’t take long, and then we can go back to…” Wriothesley’s voice trailed, as he continued talking, but Neuvillette couldn’t seem to focus on anything that was being said, as long as it was nothing regarding his health or safety. 

Instead, all Neuvillette could do was feel both of his cocks still pulsing, needing friction and release. His skin started to grow hot again at the lack of touch against his mate, driving him insane. He could feel his fangs beginning to lengthen, ever so slowly as he continued staring at the scales that lightly dusted Wriothesley’s skin from his recovered injuries. He had to do something, and he had to let Wriothesley get what he needed.

“I’m coming with you, end of discussion.” Neuvillette proclaimed, ever maintaining the image of a proper gentleman even with the hell he was currently going through, as he cleared his throat and adjusted his garments, slapping the dust off of them as well from when they plummeted to the ground earlier.

“What? No, that’ll take forever! Everyone will want to talk to you! Listen, we’re both struggling here, ba-Monsieur. Go on back, and I’ll meet you there. I promise, it will not take long, okay?” Wriothesley stated, trying to reassure his lover, patting him on the shoulder as an emphasis to this. The Duke thought he was finally in the clear as Neuvillette did not respond, and began heading his way back to his original destination, before he had the oddest sensation run through him.

As quick as he felt the energy in the air, it dissipated, and suddenly he felt something wriggle its way through underneath his jacket and undershirt beneath his vest, and wrap around him like some sort of snake. He gasped in shock, trying to tear open his shirt to see what the actual fuck was going on, and his mouth dropped open as he peered down. This hydro dragon was nothing but trouble underneath all that proper poise and composure.

Underneath all of his clothes and happily coiled around his bare torso, was the hydro dragon himself, in his full dragon form, but…incredibly tiny, like a plushie. His white scales glistened with blue ever so slightly in the little amount of light that was being produced nearby. His little white hair and beard was rather fluffy and tickled his skin, the horns being too dull to prick or poke him, but still noticeably there, and the same with his claws. His tail completely wrapped around his torso and tickled his body a bit as it waved back and forth across his skin. 

With an agitated sigh, he glared back down at Neuvillette one last time, who merely placed his scaled chin on one of Wriothesley’s pecs, tongue flickering out and teasing the skin of his mate, looking up at him with large, slit lilac eyes that Wriothesley was all too familiar with. The man sighed as he tightened his clothing back up, trying to ignore the ever present hydro dragon that was now descaled down to a small noodle plushie size and wrapped around him. Yeah, he wasn’t going to regret allowing this to happen at all, but maybe for once the dragon would behave himself.

“Alright, I’ll allow it, I get it, we’ll compromise on this. But if you give me any sort of trouble, I swear…” Wriothesley warned, and knowing his lover, he was surprised when he didn’t hear any sort of feedback. Dragons were rather proud creatures, so a statement against them as such, even from their lifelong mates, usually warranted some sort of warning growl, hiss or light love bite. But Wriothesley felt nothing. Blinking, thinking that maybe Neuvillette was just really distracted with how he had been feeling the past couple of days, he took it as a sign of acceptance of terms, and moved onward to the grocery store.

Oh, how wrong he was. No matter the dragon, they were all the same in this respect. When they wanted something, they got it. End of discussion. Though they do cherish their mates deeply, they were nothing but masters of persuasion and persistence. One way or another, what they wanted would become theirs. Neuvillette was not an exception, even to this.

Even if he was in an adorable noodle form that Wriothesley was secretly gushing about in his mind – it was too cute to handle, but he had to stay focused.

Wriothesley tested the next few steps that he took, making sure to concentrate more on the dragon that had curled around him than the still throbbing pain that he felt in his head. So far, so good. It seemed Neuvillette was content with just having some skin to scale contact. Maybe that’s what he needed all along, or that’s just the level of restraint that Neuvillette had now, knowing that his health wasn’t at tip top shape. He chose to end his logical reasoning, and focused instead on the grocer, who was now in plain sight. The door was still propped open, and the lights were still on inside, some patrons walking in and some walking out with their purchased goods. A brief sigh of relief escaped his lips as he started to walk through the threshold, observing the different aisles of goods, knowing exactly what he needed. He was a man on a mission right now.

Though the building looked rather small from the outside, the inside of it was quite large. Aisle after aisle of consumable goods were on display, one trip here is all you would require for most of your culinary needs. Ranging from fresh meat, to locally grown vegetables and fruits, to imported goods, the store had all that you needed and then some. Since the rebuilding efforts of Fontaine began after the the chaotic events occurred, many of Teyvat’s nations decided to pitch in one way or another and send goods to the local stores of Fontaine, helping to restock whatever goods they had until the nation was able to provide at full capacity for its citizens once more. The citizens of Fontaine greatly appreciated this for many reasons, but one of the major ones was the new type of diversity of resources and food provided. Wriothesley was just one such of these people. Without Mondstadt sending over some of their interestingly flavored tea, he would not have been able to try the peppermint flavor that he now constantly desired. Something about the mint from the land of freedom itself just had that extra fresh and tasteful twist to the brew that he couldn’t find anywhere else. Plus, if he ever had a day when his throat was irritating him (he’s mentally glaring down at the cute but troublesome noodle dragon that was coddling his chest, being the source of these recent moments), it fixed him right up. The Duke was about to walk down one of the aisles to go to the middle of the store where it had a more open view of where the items were located, when all of a sudden he felt a light tapping on his shoulder. 

The man turned around to address the individual, immediately on high alert, which faded almost as soon as it had developed. A sweet, gentle smile of a young woman graced him, one that was sadly familiar to him now, but he was used to having social situations like this. He blessed her with one of his trademark smiles, arms crossed over his chest. He did poses like this to give off a rather calm, but stern demeanor. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, no matter the circumstances. But he would be lying if he were to say that this didn’t have a secondary purpose. He had started feeling Neuvillette wiggle against his skin and clothing, trying to adjust himself, he supposed, to get a better view of the situation. Though, that was still rather hard to do with the amount of layers that Wriothesley tended to wear. 

“Your Grace, it was indeed you! I just wanted to thank you for your assistance the other day. I know it’s not the best situation, but you’re truly one of the best to handle it. I don’t know what I would have done without all of the help that you and your men provided.” The young woman said, with a sweet, soothing voice. Such a compliment caused Wriothesley to blush ever so slightly. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell, even in bright lighting. But one being could, and that was the ever growing jealous dragon that was snuggled up to him.

Noodlette (Wriothesley was proud of this title he just came up with for him, he’d have to tell him about it later after they got back from pound town), was clearly starting to get agitated. The moment he seemed to have heard that it was a female voice that was close to his mate, a slight hissing sound escaped him. Luckily for Wriothesley, her voice seemed to out-mask his tiny hiss, which irritated the hydro dragon even more. He was well aware that women were of no interest to Wriothesley, but he was also well aware that most people found the man attractive, and loved to have his undivided attention. Attention that should be his, by the way, especially now when his heat was about to be upon the two of them at full blast. Noodlette grunted, and being the needy dragon that he was, started to come up with some mischievous plans.

“Of course, it’s all part of the job, after all. Your brother will be taken care of at the Fortress of Meropide, I swear. But, it’s good to see you out and about. Get your mind off things, you know? People make the wrong decisions sometimes, but we’ll handle it from here.” Wriothesley tried to assure her that no thanks were necessary, it was all part of the job. He was about to continue on with another sentence before he stopped in his tracks, immediately becoming stiff, so much so that the young woman in front of him gasped, reaching her hand out to him to check on him.

“Your grace! Are you alright?!” The woman asked, worriedly.

Wriothesley continued to try to keep himself together, but the sensations were already starting to flood his senses. Noodlette had started slowly licking the skin around his left nipple, lapping the hardening bud up while lightly nipping and pulling on it. Noodlette also had his claws out, though not all full sharpened length, as he slowly dug into Wriothesley’s skin, not enough to break it, but enough for his mate to feel the tension, and slowly started to drag his claws down. The two of them came to find out that Wriothesley loved it when the hydro dragon would release his claws and scratch at him while they were love making. It became one of his favorite things, and Neuvillette didn’t mind at all. The more marks on him to show the world that he was claimed, the better, in his opinion. Wriothesley grunted as he tightened his arms around himself, hoping to constrict the noodle dragon and halt his actions. It worked, for now. Little did he know that the dragon was beaming, having had a naughty moment with his mate, getting him all flustered, and this woman hadn’t achieved that. Plus getting a tight hug like this? The dragon was the proudest he had been in a while now.

Clearing his throat to hide a moan as Noodlette started to slowly inch his claws back down his skin, Wriothesley put every bit of his focus and energy into keeping the conversation normal.

“Y-Yes, sorry about that. I’ve been having a little bit of a headache today, nothing to worry about. That aside, I’ll be sending some update reports your way once your brother gets established at the Fortress.” Wriothesley stated, surprised at his own ability to keep himself together at this point. He could feel the little noodle dragon starting to squirm again, and he had no doubt that his lover wasn’t enjoying the woman’s company, especially being so close when he had one thing on his mind, dicking his mate down hard. The Duke was getting the message loud and clear. Get away from other threats, get the goods and go home so they can lose themselves in feral lovemaking. 

The young woman brought her arm back to her side as she eyed him up and down, skeptically, making sure he was indeed alright. After a few seconds of seeing him maintain his composure, she simply offered him another soft smile, nodding her head. 

“Alright. I do hope that you feel better, your grace. Once more, thank you for all of the help, truly. I apologize that part of my family caused so much of a mess for you, but hopefully this will all be the proper steps in the right direction.” She concluded, giving a small bow as she eyed him up and down once more, making sure that she didn’t miss anything. But, his stature and expression remained the same as he had given a small smirk, nodding his head in acknowledgement to her. She took that as her dismissal, and promptly left after gathering her small bag of goods and left. 

The moment that her presence couldn’t be felt nearby, Wriothesley began to feel an odd, small vibration coming from Noodlette. Blinking in curiosity, Wriothesley peeked downwards and saw that the small dragon was gently rubbing his head against his skin again, purring away, with a big smile. It was almost as if the hydro dragon were just as gleeful as ever, rubbing his face away on him like a cat would their owner. The man had no doubt Noodlette was enjoying himself by staking his claim yet again by scenting him, like it wasn’t already obvious through the faintly shimmering scales that littered Wriothesley’s skin if the light hit them right, or the blue essence that Neuvillette had pumped into him the night of the claiming that was still coursing through his veins. This made Wriothesley think of all the ways the dragon obviously had him as his mate and vice versa, his mind not clearly understanding just how truly territorial dragons were with their mates and close loved ones. In truth, the woman that had approached Wriothesley just moments ago was lucky that the dragon didn’t strike her down right then and there. Dragons, back in prior times, held no mercy against any threat, subtle or not, to their claim. However, that just showed how much Noodlette still respected the position and title of his mate. Though, instincts were hard to completely control, and this was what resulted from him trying to resist them while also giving in a bit, before it all drove him into insanity.

If only Wriothesley understood this to the fullest extent, however. Instead, the man just found Noodlette to be needy and extremely bratty at this point. Though not necessarily untrue, he would find out later that night exactly what this all entailed. That didn’t stop the Duke from continuing to glare down on the blissed out Noodlette, and after looking around to see if anyone was nearby and content when there was not, he squeezed the dragon a bit which earned a little adorable squeak from the tiny dragon, like some sort of plush toy. Wriothesley knew he didn’t hurt the poor little thing, just surprised him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Wriothesley hissed at at Noodlette, who tried to look up at him with the most innocent eyes that he could muster, along with an odd light chuffing noise, which the man assumed was some sort of pouting huffs to emphasize his adorableness and lessen his anger. Wriothesley growled at the minuscule dragon, who then got a cranky face of his own, and growled right back at him, even though it sounded so pitiful. The growl of the dragon eased off into a whimper, as Wriothesley started to feel the whole body temperature of the noodle dragon that had wrapped himself around him start to drastically increase. Noodlette started whimpering even louder, and Wriothesley blushed as he started to feel a rhythmic movement against his chest, sides, and…was that Noodlette’s little tail that had somehow wormed its way past all of his belts and headed straight down his waist? 

Wriothesley’s eyes widened as the rhythmic ministrations continued, and he began to hear an odd panting noise coming from Noodlette. Was that also…what was that hardness that was bumping up against him? Wait, what the fuck? Was Noodlette humping him now? Was this what this was?!

“Y-You need to stop that and get it together! You’re such a little shit! Stop it, stop it!” The man growled out, keeping his arms once again tight around his own torso, trapping the little Noodlette to prevent any more movements. The last thing that needed to happen was for him to have a massive boner in public like this and have to provide some explanation to the general public as to why he was walking around a grocery store in that sort of state. The little Noodlette let out a little squeaky whine again, barely audible but with Wriothesley’s increased sense of hearing since their initial coupling, he sure was able to hear it loud and clear.

However, the young little boy that was bouncing between the aisles didn’t notice this noise. He had broken away from his mother, who had found someone that she knew a few aisles down and was doing the classic mom thing of talking for what felt like hours, just to say nothing or discuss boring drama that the little boy had no interest in. None of the aisles had really piqued his curiosity, except for the one with sugary sweets and drinks. His mother had swiftly ushered him away from those, the last thing she needed to deal with was a hyperactive kid when it was close to dinner time as it was. So, the kid ventured away as soon as her attention was divided, and that’s how he came upon the aisle where he saw the strange man, dressed so scarily (and like a badass), in grays, black and reds, with belts and boots to match. He was awed at first, until he saw the odd behavior of the man. He seemed to be hugging himself and muttering some odd words, almost as if he were fighting with himself. What was once awe then turned into apprehension and wariness as the kid started to get a worried feeling about the guy in front of him. He was acting odd, clearly talking to himself, should they call the guards? 

The child started to take a few steps away until he accidentally backed into one of the shelves, causing a can of archons knows what, to fall off of the shelf and roll on the ground towards the odd man. The kid's heart began to race so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest and go running down the street. He was frozen in fear as the can rolled right into one of the black boots of the man. The man then whipped around to look at the kid, sharp, gray-blue eyes pierced right through the kid's soul, it felt like, and the kid started to shriek and cry as he ran back towards where he last saw his mother. 

Wriothesley stood in place as he was trying to comprehend what was going on, as well as hoping that the kid didn’t see the little Noodlette’s head poking out from underneath his vest, tongue flicking out in curiosity. It took a second for the man to notice the little dragon head poking out, viewing the outside world for a few seconds before he hastily shoved the little scaled head back down underneath his clothes. At first, the dragon tried to fight and push its way back out, but the horny seemed to get the best of him again the second he felt more skin to scale contact. The little dragon crooned as he began rubbing his face all over his mates skin again, tongue lapping out, teasing the man. This made Wriothesley groan as he accepted his fate. He knew there was no trying to calm the little dragon down, he needed to go and get the tea and get the fuck out of here, and fast. He was already starting to make a scene, he didn’t need anymore added to his docket right now.

“Just, just don’t do anything crazy, please, I’m almost done!” Wriothesley begged as he began to race down through the store, heading towards the exact aisle that he needed. He glanced around, sighing in frustration as he noticed some of the items had been moved around since he had last visited the store, the peppermint tea not in the same location as it was before. Luckily, he remembered that the packaging was in a light blue box with a scene of misty mountains on it, and after taking a moment to go back and forth in the aisle, he managed to finally find it. The second that his hands grasped the box, he felt like his migraine was already starting to fade away, the cure was finally in his grasp. Happy, and somehow not becoming a moaning mess at the noodle dragon that was currently trying to tease his nipples again, he began to storm out of the aisle and towards the front of the store to pay for his goods, before he felt a presence in front of him. 

“Oh, it’s you! Oh, my son just adores you, he’s always going about how he wants to work at the Fortress of Meropide one day! Seriously, you’re his biggest hero! It’s not often we see you in these parts of Fontaine, can we get your autograph, your grace?” A middle aged woman ran up to him, leaving her cart and child behind, and whipping out a pen and notepad that he saw also had a grocery list on it.

As much as Wriothesley wanted to oblige her, he felt the little noodle getting rambunctious underneath his clothing again. That was never a good sign, he noted. The hydro dragon probably thought this was yet another threat to his claim, which had him mentally rolling his eyes. However, to his surprise, and dismay, it seems as though Noodlette had come up with a new method of torturing him. It was subtle at first, but as Wriothesley was about to reply to the woman, his actions ceased as he heard a weird sort of…tune? Coming from the little dragon. At first it just seemed like a series of growls and coos, but now it started to blend together in an odd, soothing melody that hastily started having his senses be dulled and a light heat pumping through him. He shook his head, holding a hand up to it to support himself as he began to come back to, though not fully snapping out of it. 

“Oh! Are you alright?! You must be suffering from hay-fever like the rest of us right now, I know that look anywhere, young man. You need to be getting your rest and sleep! Come, Conner, let’s leave your hero to rest! How else is he going to stay big and strong and keep us all safe?!” The mother stated to her child and she returned back to her cart, trying to usher the two of them away. 

It was then that Wriothesley got a good look at the young kid that was with her, eyes wide open as he noticed it was the same young child that he had seen before that ran off, terrified of him. He inwardly groaned, thinking for sure that he didn’t blame the kid for having that sort of reaction, he was a kind of scary guy, especially with how frustrated he was sure he looked after this whole debacle. After the kid realized who was in front of him and his mother, sniffles turned into a full blown crying episode as he clung to his mother for comfort and safety.

“Now, now, Conner! It’s okay, we’ll get his autograph when he’s feeling better, okay sweetie? Who knows, maybe the Duke will feel so much stronger then that he’ll even want to pick you up onto his shoulders, wouldn’t that be fun?!”

The child only started crying harder after hearing that, clearly still terrified of the man, little to the knowledge of his mother.

“Hush, hush! Here, why don’t we go back down the sweet aisle and I’ll grab you some sweet bread, wouldn’t that be nice? That’s my big boy!” the mother crooned, as she gathered her son and started walking down the way towards the desserts and breads. Wriothesley only wished he could give some sort of verbal reply, but that damned song that Noodlette was performing was preventing him from doing so. He was surprised that the older woman or her child couldn’t hear it, which started to make him believe that Noodlette was making this only noticeable through his own hearing.

The little noodle started to unwind himself from his mate, now slithering out from underneath his clothes, head and neck peering out to look Wriothesley directly in the eyes. The duke could only stare and get lost in the piercing, slit eyes of his mate, even in this form. Where they were once wide and adorable to look at, now they held a level of conviction and seriousness, a possessive aura flowing through them. Wriothesley didn’t sense anyone near them, which was a relief, but he was confused as to what exactly was going on now. 

To his shock, those same small glowing orbs that had appeared when Neuvillette had first claimed Wriothesley appeared again, and the longer that the man stared at them, the more he started falling under whatever spell that Noodlette was casting upon him. The tune was so coaxing, his migraine, which was still there, had lessened to a dull thud, and the heat that was once pooled in his gut was starting to branch out everywhere within himself now. The song teased him with senses of peace, pleasure and possession, if he would only surrender himself to it. It needed his consent, craved it, and he knew the moment that he gave it, all of Fontaine be damned, this dragon was going to claim him then and there, in front of them all. This was, he assumed, what Sigewinne had once told him about as she had started to study the mating rituals of dragons, especially after what she had witnessed that one fateful day. There weren’t many records, but the ones that did exist, she absorbed their contents immediately. 

There was one story that she shared of a dragon’s mating call. Normally, this would be used to lure a potential mate in, but it also served different purposes as well, especially if a mating bond had already been established. If that prerequisite had been met, then the mating call held an overall different purpose. Instead, instead of luring in a potential mate, this call was used to lure their stubborn mate to give into their deepest, carnal desires, tossing logic to the side and also increased the sensitivity within their nerves, guaranteeing that once the mate fully submitted, they would experience a pleasure more intense than ever before, unless the song had been used on them previously. Sometimes mates needed to be reminded of who they belonged to, and when a dragon called out to them with this mating call, they would never forget again. 

Wriothesley tried to fight against the sensations at first, but the battle was easily lost. He felt his consciousness flow into a state of calm and bliss that no other sensible thoughts were running through him. He should be resisting, checking to see if anyone else saw this little noodle of a dragon poking out from underneath his clothing to stare into his soul and devour it whole. He should be convincing Neuvillette that this was a horrible idea, that they needed to keep away from the prying eyes of the citizens of Fontaine that were still within the store. He knew at first that this needed to be top priority, fuck the tea at this point, but he couldn’t fight. Whatever energy was flowing through him now, it was as if it were his own blood pumping through his veins. This claim that the dragon had was eerily strong and superior, it transcended anything that Wriothesley could muster against it. It should horrify him, but it oddly gave him a sense of satisfaction and adoration for the hydro dragon. Previously, no one in his life held any high value to him, other than Sigewinne. No one truly cared or wanted the best for him or would be willing to give up everything just to see him smile. He felt that, among many waves of lust and wanting, through the bond that they shared with each other. He, himself, was about to toss every sense of care away and act upon it. 

Wriothesley took a few steps forward, now noticing that there was a full body supporting him now, helping him to keep upright. The Duke wanted to raise his head and address the figure, but no words could be formed. The searing heat continued to rage through him, not in discomfort, but rather waves of pleasure. He was about to release a series of moans, before a gloved hand came up to press a finger against his lips, silencing him. 

“Shh, my dear, we wouldn’t want you to, how does one say, ‘spill the tea’ now, would we?” A haughty Neuvillette teased, now fully back into his humanoid form. Since his mate received the mating call so well, his body and soul knew that it would be appeased soon, and the primal instincts within himself started to recede, enough for him to drag his prize back into their den for a copious amount of carnal activities. 

“Now, let’s go and make a purchase and commence our meeting, shall we? We have some rather important details to go over…” Neuvillette said, again in the same teasing tone as before. He offered Wriothesley his side for support, helping him walk ahead towards the front of the store. Helping was a rather loose term here, however. The call was still playing through Wriothesley’s mind, and it felt like the bond between the two of them was flowing through his body and helping to propel his legs forward, beyond his sense of control, one of his hands holding his head to soothe the dull throbbing that still persisted. Even the mating call wasn’t enough to douse the intense pain. To outsiders, it would look as if the duke were suffering from a casual migraine and the prim and proper Neuvillette was helping him to finish at the store and return back to the Fortress of Meropide as soon as possible. They had no idea that there was a dragon in heat clawing to release and mate with its lover before a feral rage took him over that would level Fontaine as fast as it was rebuilt.

Wriothesley could hear faint mutters through all of the sensations that he was currently feeling. He recognized Neuvillette’s voice easily, but there was another that was there. Cheery, concerned, and businesslike. He assumed that it was the storekeeper, ringing up their purchase and voicing their concerns for him. However, his professional mate addressed the issue, he was sure, as they spent a few more moments there and were ushering themselves out the store, he could hear the bell of the door ringing as it opened, and once more as it closed. It was odd, he couldn’t really sense anyone strongly outside of his mate, but a part of him knew it was still the working of the mating call. He only needed to recognize his mate, respond to him and surrender himself completely to his dragon, and only his dragon.

He felt his body continuing to move on its own, until it suddenly stopped. The hold that was over him was starting to lift now, not completely, but enough  for him to become aware of his surroundings. It was now dark outside, the sun must have set while they were inside dealing with each other's shenanigans. The lights of the lamp posts were keeping the areas lit, which struck him with a wave of curiosity. The two of them were currently in front of one of the large fountains within the city square, close enough to feel some of the droplets of water bounce off of the surface and dust their skin. As Wriothesley continued to take note of his observations, he saw that there were a decent amount of people surrounding them, some in small groups and conversing with each other, others appeared to have been walking down the streets connecting to the other parts of Fontaine, while the rest were surrounding the fountain, taking in the beauty of it. But, there was something really odd going on here.

None of the people were moving. It was as if they were frozen in time, but everything else around them was continuing on. The waves of the fountain continued to cause a light sprinkle to grace their skin, and for that Wriothesley was thankful. At least there was something moving and making him feel less crazy, though he had no idea what was going on, yet again. Looking to his mate for answers, he gasped as he saw that Neuvillette’s eyes were glowing bright, pupils sharp as he stared at him, causing shivers to go down Wriothesley’s spine. They didn’t need words between them right now, the bond pulsed between the two of them and gave him all of the information that he needed. Neuvillette had done something to stop everyone from being able to see whatever the hell was about to happen. The duke tried to take a few steps back from Neuvillette out of caution, and that was the absolute wrong thing to do.

It all happened within a split second, a snarling, loud and ferocious growl was released from Neuvillette as he rushed right up to Wriothesley before he could take a second step backwards. Immediately, arms were wrapped around the duke, pulling him so close to the man that their noses were practically touching. The hydro dragon continued with his warning growls, fangs elongated to greater lengths than before, horns protruding from his crown and the dragon tail that was once a ghost form of itself now completely corporeal and wrapping around Wriothesley, holding him tight.

“Wriothesley…” the dragon purred out, with a slight growl towards the end. This made the man weak in the knees, completely thankful that his mate was supporting him with his arms and tail. He felt like such a limp noodle right now, and he knew that fighting any further would not be beneficial to him at all anymore. No, he was prey that was captured now, and he needed to face what was coming for him.

“We have what you need…” Wriothesley looked and saw a small bag attached to his side, it must have been the tea bags from earlier. The man gulped, knowing that he had teased the dragon before and had given him trouble while in the noodle form, a big no-no for the mate of a dragon.

“Now, you must suffer the consequences of your actions, my love. You were late, you did not tell me of your status, and kept me waiting.” Neuvillette continued, as he began to move the two of them painfully close to the fountain that was behind them. Then, a sharp smirk played on Neuvillette’s face as he pushed the two of them into the water of the fountain, Wriothesley’s eyes becoming wide as he wasn’t prepared for his dragon’s sudden motion. The dragon continued to push the two of them into the water’s depths that seemed to be endless now. The Duke could feel the unfamiliar waters turn into ones that he was too familiar with now. What felt like minutes underwater being pushed through by his dragon, then ended as they both breached the water's surface, his body being tossed onto the familiar bed that the two of them shared. It was obvious now that Neuvillette had frozen people in their steps so that they could teleport back swiftly to their den. Neuvillette stood at the door leading to their watery bedroom, as he smirked at his mate, holding the bag with the caffeinated goods inside.

“You’ll have your tea here in a few moments. But I’m going to have you all night…”

Archons, this dragon drove him crazy in every sense possible, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[omgshiftercat]

BG3 Blogging: Could this guy be a vampire? Nah, he's just a cat.

Now that I'm playing as Karlach rather than Astarion, WOW that vampire cannot help dropping hints by the dozen about what he is. The rest of the group must be thinking, "If this guy weren't walking around in direct sunlight, I'd swear he's a vampire."

The vibe:

During my Origin Astarion run, back at the crashed nautiloid I was like, "Ooh, I have a bite attack? CHOMP!" and that triggered the reveal dialogue with Shadowheart. No waiting around.

🐇: Part of the Vampiric Drama Compulsion includes dropping hints that you are a vampire.

Though there's also this: Astarion: Have you ever heard of a vampire lord named Cazador? Wyll: Not ringing any bells. Gale: Head of the Szarr family. Nasty piece of work, if the histories are to be believed. Astarion: (quietly) They likely are.

(Note: some dialogue might not be word-perfect, since I'm often going from memory.)

Now musing on how much of that "drop broad hints that you are a bloodsucker" thing is Vampire Drama Instinct and how much might have developed as a covert attempt to alert someone, anyone, about what he is without going against the Purple Man levels of control that a master vampire has over their spawn. "No, master, I have no idea how the monster hunters figured out that I'm a spawn and therefore there must be a vampire lord in the city somewhere!"

This explains why the boar carcass is still in the middle of the road: he only has 8 strength.

My friend 🦀 explained he'd been playing a wizard Tav with the attitude of, "I've had a very bad month. Everyone gets ONE chance. Threaten me at your peril," which meant that a few key NPCs got immediately nuked by fire spells... including Astarion. (Lae'zel lived, partly due to what was almost certainly the Dream Guardian's direct interference.)

Me: Just think of him as a cat who somehow acquired elven form and passed the Baldur's Gate bar exam. 🦀: 😆👍!

...I mean. It's not just that he's so frequently drawn as a cat. Or that he approves of showing proper deference to His Majesty, and disapproves of telling Tara not to eat pigeons. As a cat owner, I can confirm that "tries very hard to seem cool and dignified, but in fact has zero chill and is prone to comical overreaction" is a frequent feline trait.

(Also, if you pass your Perception check, you don't even have to do the thing where you calm the hissy cat by not pulling away when he sticks his claws into you.)

And yeah... people (including me) go on about this, but it's worth it to treat Astarion like a half-feral cat in need of proper socialization (and the occasional spritz with a holy water bottle) because the acting and dialogue for his story is So. Damn. Amazing.

A friend who hadn't yet seen Avatar: the Last Airbender got tired of hearing all the fan-babble about Zuko.

I think a lot of us feel kind of starved for redemption stories that are actually well-written? Like, so often we get heel-face turns that just feel very sudden and unearned (looking at you, Kylo Ren). And, well, I have a lot of bad feelings about the way "forgiveness" is so often presented as 1. compulsory and 2. more important than, if not an outright replacement for, accountability.

For a long time, it looked like they were going to do one of those sudden HFTs with Catra in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, and I was actually glad that they kept her a baddie for so long! When they finally had her change sides, she'd had to hit rock bottom, and I got the impression that her progress wasn't completely finished at the end of the series.

So much media doesn't want to address stuff like, "extended trauma may turn someone into more of a prickly asshole than a smol bean", "someone on the path to rehabilitation may sometimes backslide", and "sometimes the best you'll get from a character is 'morally grey'."

[strangegardendelusion]

andres dumb plan hinges too much on the idea of "stolas will come save blitz because he loves him and then hold himself accountable so i can take his legions! obviously!" when theres like. no implication that anyone really knows what blitz and stolas's relationship is, or that they even care about each other, especially not when stella said, "he finally realized that filthy little beast was only using him to gain access to his grimoire", like, what about that implies that stolas would give a shit if anything happened to someone who was "using him"? thats right - it doesnt! if andres plan had been properly executed in the stupid ass way he set it up in the episode, then blitz wouldve been executed, and fuck all wouldve happen to stolas after. if anything, hed be treated like a hero who was used unfairly by some low life, who was then slaughtered on tv to remind the lower citizens of hell not to fuck with the upper crust. imagine if that had happened, forcing stolas to go back to his home by himself; no stella since they divorced, no via since shes turning 18 soon, and no blitzy, ever again. maybe they shouldve just done that tbh, that way he could take over the show completely, since thats obviously what viv wants so damn bad. (also, stolas possible redemption arc when he realizes his actions actually DO have consequences!) or, i dunno, if she had the maturity to let other people look at her 3 year old script without surrounding herself with yesman, she mightve realized that she couldve kept EVERYTHING she wanted and still had the same ending, at the price of having stolas do the bare minimum and say, "he didnt force himself onto me, i.. forced myself onto him." the ending with all the imps hating stolas would make sense (because they know hes a rapist), blitz being able to even acknowledge any care he has for stolas might make more sense if he'd even SAY what he did wrong to blitz in front of EVERYONE important in hell, being a way to make up for his manipulative behavior and him hiding his face at ozzies, especially if stolas said, "i'm so sorry, blitz. for getting you into this mess, for everything ive done to you.." after blitz says thank you when they return home. (thats just the way i'd write it, because i cannot fucking stand that blitz says, "thank you, stolas, for saving my life," when blitz, at minimum, has saved stolas's life 3 TIMES AND HAS NEVER GOTTEN A THANK YOU ONCE BEFORE THIS POINT and was even INSULTED over saving him the best he could, because blitz needed to be there for his DAUGHTER first like a good dad, which is obviously something stolas has never comprehended since his sacrifice and willingness to die for his former forced sex slave in mastermind proves that, but stolas saves blitz twice, the second time being when hes holding himself accountable for his own actions that nearly got his "lover" killed to begin with? oh, heres a gold star, a thank you from the guy you forced to have sex with you to keep food on the table for his family, and a free imp to wash you just like when you were 12 i mean a totally not trauma bonded bf!)

Honestly, anon, interesting points all around! I didn't even think about all you said before you mentioned it.

Now, having blitz died is a very interesting idea

I mean, it would be very cool to see how each character reacts to his death, like having loona experience her sadness by turning it into anger and having millie and moxxie grieving with each other the best they can.

It would also be very interesting to see stolas hitting the deep end as he realized how his life is falling apart

I could see stolas trying to reach out to everyone blitz knew, and nobody wanted to do anything with stolas

From then on, the series would follow stolas as he deals with everything

[ctrl-alt-em]

Communication is Key

AO3

Robin

I am Morven Hellwain. You have carried my spirit in your body for the last two months. As I am sure you have not figured out, when you lose consciousness, I gain control of our shared vessel. I need you to sleep as frequently as possible. Additionally, avoid bodily harm. I do not appreciate having to cast Cure Wounds when I wake.

Dear Morven Hellwain

Are you the reason for all the strange happenings? Did you explode the wolves? Lug says you killed that monster in the bunk house.

I go to sleep every night. I guess it is every other night? I don’t think I can sleep more than that and still help.

Thank you for healing my leg. Happen says he did not aim for me. His sprites played a mean prank.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

I cannot fathom how you think you, the village idiot, can be of any help. The only way you can help is by ensuring I am in control as much of the time as possible.

As for your initial questions, yes, I am. I cannot imagine anything of note occurring in your proximity without my influence. I am not directly responsible for the wolves’ destruction; the recent unpredictable outcomes of spells is to blame. You need not concern yourself with magic.

Dear Morven Hellwain

I was not the village idiot. That was Young Man Dan. I was the spit-turner before I lost my job seven weeks ago.

I can be a great help! I helped save Lug from those men. I even injured one! And I was the one that got help when that man turned into a monster. Happen said I did a good job. I even helped us meet our friends and join our adventuring party. You are just upset that I can help just as much as you. I understand that. I was jealous of Tilly the spitturn dog too at first.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

From the other's accounts of the confrontation with the mob, it does not sound like you played a needed role. It is no show of strength or skill to hit a blinded, maimed man with stale bread. As for the combat at Folkmoot, others surely would have heard and come to our aid, supposing I did not defeat the abomination before their arrival. You did nothing a dog would not be capable of. A dog likely would have been of greater help and less of liability.

Robin

You will get us both killed if you disregard my advice. Your 'help' is not needed nor wanted, I assure you.

To Morven Hellwain

I was thinking about back home, all the weird things people kept telling me. Leslie, the head cook, was cross with me. She said I missed work twice and that I insulted her in the market. I had no idea what she was talking about. I assumed she mistook me for someone else and I tried to tell her so. She said I was lying and fired me! It occurred to me that she might not have been lying. Was it you she saw? Are you the reason I lost my job?

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

Of all the things you could waste my time with, you chose this? Your 'job' is hardly worth the ink we are wasting writing about it. I will acknowledge that I was in control of our body several times before our departure. I did lose my patience with several of the dimwitted residents of the village so I very well may have offended the head 'cook'. I would not consider the loss of any great consequence. If anything, it is beneficial. Your 'occupation' would have delayed your departure for Folkmoot. You may thank me for my help in your next note. Hopefully, the writing will tire you.

To Morven

And what about my house? Did you tell the apothecary she could give it to her goat? If you wanted to run me out of my village so bad, you could have written to me earlier.

From Robin

Robin

If I recall correctly, and I do, the old hag asked me, "How I am supposed to keep a roof over my goat's head if you don't pay?" To that, I said, "Give the fucking goat my roof. I don't care." And I continue to not care. Your hovel was little more than a goat's shelter anyway.

I have spoken with Happen and he is aware of a root that induces a harmless sleep state. I have procured some. It is in the outer pouch of our bag.

To Morven

It is not our bag. It is my bag. And I don't need anything to help me sleep. A long day of traveling with my friends does that enough. Seeing as I have no work or home to return to, I will be with them for the foreseeable future regardless of our mission.

If you want to be helpful, Morven, you will tell me how to use magic myself and how I get you out of me.

From Robin

Robin

You cannot use magic. It would require innate talent or years of study, neither of which you have. Unless such fantasies lull you into a slumber, do not concern yourself with such endeavors.

I am looking into potential methods to separate us. However, until magic has been returned to its original state and I gather more information on what caused my spirit to enter your body in the first place, no significant progress can be made. You need not be involved.

To Morven

How can I not get involved when I already am? You’re in my head! You walk around in my body half the time! I should be the only one in my body!

And how do you know I don’t have inate innate talent? Maybe I just haven’t had need to use it.

From Robin

Robin

Knock yourself out as soon as you see this. Lug, Cressida, and Willowfine have been captured by a group of zealots and I need to go save their skins.

To Morven

No need to worry. Me and Happen did it ourselves. You should have seen how far Lug hit this one guy with his hammer once we got him out.

From Robin

Robin

That is not what I told you to do. You will get us both killed.

Willowfine said she saw you use magic. I can only assume you located a scroll and stumbled your way into using it correctly.

To Morven

You were wrong, Morven. I do have a talent for magic, no scroll needed, whatever those are. Mine is not as pretty or orderly as yours but I can cast spells. Cressida thinks that might be why you didn’t have trouble casting in my body.

You may thank me for my help in your next note. I will not ask you to knock yourself out because I have manners.

From Robin

Robin

I have spoken with Cressida and Willowfine regarding your spelling casting. As must I detest to acknowledge it, I suppose it makes sense. Either my spirit brought my magic potential with it or my spirit was attracted to your magic potential. I do believe the first one is the more likely of the two. It still stands that between the two of us, I am the more proficient and thus should handle any and all confrontations.

To Morven

Willowfine says we should try to come to a compromise. She said our attempts to screw with each other and limit the other’s time awake is annoying.

How about a deal? If I find myself in situations that I cannot handle, I will find a way to allow you to take control if you agree to cease trying to stay awake for days on end. If the group stops to sleep, you sleep and let me take control.

From Robin

Robin

After much strong arming from the others, I agree to your terms.

Robin

Why am I not surprised you have Wild Magic? Of all sorcerous origins, you draw power from the most unruly and unpredictable.

With that said, I request that you cast something that will offer you improved defense or evasion when in a confrontation. You cannot rely on Acid Splash only.

- Morven

[nevermorgue]

I'd love to hear your headcanons with Ada and Annabel and Ada and Wil. Their relationships interests me, and I'm curious what you have in mind with roommates, and two people who find admiration in the same guy. (Hopefully two in the same ask is okay--)

Okay, you’re so right. I do love both of those dynamics a lot. And of course I’ll do two, I love these

Ada and Annabel

- It’s complicated. Annabel finds her irritating, but she wouldn’t wish for anything bad to happen to her. Ada envies Annabel terribly, but admires and respects her greatly.

- Ada keeps begging Annabel to help her try the rag curl method out, but Annabel is trying to drag it out because she knows it won’t work with Ada’s hair type.

- Annabel hates how Ada tries to flaunt her ‘friendship’ around like an object. It’s how she was treated when she was alive; pretty object.

- Annabel had to resist every urge to roll her eyes when Ada told her she could ‘have Prospero to herself now’ once she got with Montresor.

- Ada tried to take her tea the way Annabel does but it was far too bitter. She sneaks sugar in when nobody is looking.

- Ada loves walking with her in the garden, pointing out flowers that ‘her darling would definitely pick for her’. Annabel is so tired of it, but she puts on a smile and goes along with it.

- Annabel has woken up to Ada hyperventilating/crying. She usually pretends to stay asleep, but on one occasion she actually sits up and offers comfort. Ada refuses to tell her what is upsetting her, wiping her eyes and insisting a lady would not react like this. Annabel says nothing to that.

Ada and Will

- cannot get along. They’re too similar, and they both hate it.

- Will is passive to literally everyone but her in canon. He talks back to her all the time. I think he sees her on his level of pathetic.

- They will tell the other that Montresor doesn’t care about them, even though they both know deep deep down that it’s true on both ends

- Will is further in denial than Ada. Ada kinda knows what she’s doing + pursues Montresor in a time of vulnerability. She wants to like…see someone as messed up as she is. Meanwhile, Will is just desperate for someone to call a friend.

- Ada finds out that he writes and insists that she is made into a character. So he makes a very ugly, evil hag.

- She tried to use ‘Fear Itself’ on him and couldn’t find one thing. It kept changing, as if his brain couldn’t decide what was worse.

- She was genuinely uncomfortable seeing him wear her face for the first time. It was too accurate. It made her wonder how often he’s watched her to be able to do that.

- Ada laughs in his face and jokingly says he probably turns into her to pretend that he gets Monty’s romantic attention too…and he can’t even deny it.

- They have a big fight after that. Ada always hits harder.

- They really cannot even sit in a room together alone without arguing unless someone is supervising them.

- Will remembers when she complimented her eyes. One day they’re just existing in the same room and he just quietly goes, “…did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“When you said my eyes were nice.”

And then Ada is confused- when did she say that? When she remembers, she ends up speaking without a filter.

“Duh, gray is a rarity for eyes you know.”

And that’s the only time they can ever truly speak to one another because Montresor is such a heavy blanket over them both that he’s the factor that keeps them from forming any sort of bond.

[dancing-dawn]

If you haven't got him yet, then how about Rampo? :)

Ooooh good hit, I actually love Ranpo quite a lot! This will be, like, hilariously shorty-er in volume (and a lot more... 'hinged', if you may) than my Aku/Atsu ones because well, ya know me, but I’m having such a blast here too!

Favourite thing: Ranpo’s been one of my favourites ever since his cute little face appeared on my screen and especially after his ‘ability’ was revealed. Even if it sounds very basic, I love the twist of his whole character spiel - being a genius without an ability, a true genius. It took me back, I was so surprised at first and he kept leaving me in awe again and again with both his funny antics and his careful strategizing.

Least favourite thing: Oh, you cannot make me talk shit about my son. Try again.

Favourite line: “Guns are interesting, aren't they? For some reason, whenever anyone holds one, they become stupid.”

-> this one goes so hard honestly, my boy’s spilling facts

brOTP: Getting to this part made me realize Ranpo doesn’t have any true friends imao. But because of angst and lore reasons - Ranpo & Yosano. Him welcoming Yosano to the agency and recognizing and accepting her worth as a person, instead of an object for warfare, still makes me emotional - I wish they interacted more after that!

OTP: Ranpoe, of course lol, is there any other valid option here hihi. I love their pathetic barely-even-there rivalry. Poe’s flaming jealousy giving way to feelings of admiration and adoration. He cannot be angry at Ranpo, as hard as he tries, for being better than him and it’s absolutely adorable. Them coming to work together as a team is just a delight <3

nOTP: Admittedly, I am not versed in any other Ranpo ships soooo I guess everything else that isn’t Ranpoe question mark ??

Random headcanon: There have been many days when he’s tried his damn best at learning to use the train alone and failed spectacularly every time, but thankfully no one was there to see! And of course he would never admit to it, silently hoping Atsushi would be so kind to accompany him again.

Unpopular opinion: Oh forgive my ignorance once again for my minimalistic knowledge of mainstream fandom takes is failing me. I'm trying to think of something scandalous to say here but?? I just love him a lot and I respect him as a character, I've never formed any controversial opinions! I guess like mmmm sometimes his ego gets in the way of what could be a quick and easy, almost instant even, solution to a case, but in a way he's just gotta play with his food a little, give little hints and speak in circles like an overpowered magician and leave it to the tragic protagonists to play the real game. Which is fun actually! At least from our audience perspective lol, sure not for poor ADA agents who just wanna finish work and go home without overtime!

Song I associate with them: If we exclude his official(?) character song, which for obvious reasons fits very well, Detective Conan Main Theme! Oh what an absolute bob :D

Favourite picture: Oh, I was waiting for this one...

I have so many bursting feelings for this scene, it is one of my favourite moments in the whole series and I look upon it fondly. The anime voice actors did such a magnificent job on this one, you can feel the raw emotion clawing at you, it's simply spectacular, a piece of art. The English one especially tugs at my heartstrings with such insane power every time I rewatch it. It is so very important to me.

[prapaiwife]

I saw a tiktok of this person saying that tongrak's trauma isn't in any gravely danger so they don't feel the importance towards it. And I strongly disagree because trauma doesn't just have one face that comes in so many different ways for so many people. Tongrak in the latest episode as we saw has text messages with his dad going back as much as 4 years ago where we see that he sends him money. But you noticed every time he sent him money that his dad never once replied but the messages are always seen that alone sends him into a panic attack. If you can't text your parents without feeling a sense of discomfort and just fearing for your life that's not okay. Again his father literally just made the message be seen too tongrak which goes to show he doesn't even have to say much about his presence over the phone and in person it's just as intimidating and scary to him as he was when he was younger. This is the same man who hit him over the head with an alcohol bottle because he was crying too loud. He didn't apologize couldn't care less that his son was bleeding out on the floor because of his actions. He saw his dad emotionally and mentally abuse his mom taking her money that she did throw at him because she was begging him to stay to take care of her and the kids his kids!! She has told him they were a gift that he gave to her she says this to frame his thinking differently. That he needs to be around and be a father but he never kept up with it he could probably honestly care less about his own children. But now seeing the heights that his son is at in his career the money is coming in at a rate that he possibly cannot miss. What he's doing with his daughter right now is very emotionally taxing and abusive. He's hanging around his niece's School popping up whenever he wants to literally being a threat knowing so that his daughter does not want him in any involvement in her niece's life. Him popping up periodically as he does is very scary because they don't know what he will do he is a loose cannon and he will do anything as we see in the episode coming up for next week. He's going to take money from prin probably doubling more than what his own son gave him but he doesn't care. I think tongrak's trauma is very valid I don't see how it's underwhelming? Or just not taking in a serious matter for the story purposes when I feel like it has been and especially with these next three episodes I think it's going to get even more intense but that's just my opinion on that.