#or as a challenge to do it again but better

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

[sixosix]

BABY, CAN WE DANCE THROUGH AN AVALANCHE? | LYNEY

notes 1.5k words, aether and lyney have a talk :o

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They watch in stunned silence as you storm off, ice materializing where you go. To Lyney, it’s an all-too-familiar sight. He’s seen it before: your back turned on him, and his body frozen from not just the frost but fear. Why didn’t you say it back?

Aether is able to snap out of it quickly, wiping off his hurt for the sake of chasing after you.

“Y/N!” he calls out, moving to run, but he couldn’t get too far.

Lyney whips an arm in front of him. “Don’t.”

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Lyney who says it. Lynette stares at her brother, bewildered—how, of all times, does he choose to surrender now? If anything, they expected Lyney to be the one to chase after you first. Why didn’t you say it back? But Lyney has his eyes trained on Aether, cold and calculating.

None of this would’ve happened if I never met you.

“What did she mean by that, Traveler?”

Lyney tips his head as far as it can go, blood rushing to his head and leaving him a little dizzy. To his dismay, the loveseat stays firmly in place. It would’ve been better if he fell—perhaps it would’ve hurt less than whatever the hell you two have going on.

“Are you still sulking?” Lynette asks, sitting beside him and jostling the seat.

Lyney grunts.

Lynette sips her tea, her tail flicking against his arm in a gesture of comfort. The air no longer held the tense chill in the warmth of their home, but they could still feel it. Lynette could hide it with her face, but her ears were tucked—she was nervous.

Aether’s in their home. Lyney is unhappy about this arrangement and is not afraid to show it. He doesn’t spare the Traveler a glance, doesn’t give him words of comfort. Aether has been obediently silent so far, which was somewhat weird. Lyney had been expecting Aether to rub it on his face that Lyney had been—for a lack of better words—dumped. Instead, he sits there by the chair they pulled from the dining table, looking like a distressed puppy.

“Are we not going to do anything?” Aether asks, which is the question they’ve all been thinking in their heads.

“We will,” Lyney says. Of course they will. Just not like this. He has watched you leave before, and you have returned to him eventually—he can be patient again. This is just far too delicate right now.

It has only been about thirty minutes, at most. Lyney already has a plan, and it’s not his most favorite, but he can’t face you at the moment. Or, instead, it’s you who can’t face him at this moment.

Lynette is aware of his plan, even without him saying anything. Aether obviously doesn’t have the advantage of twin telepathy, so he sits there wondering, distressed, and confused.

“I know it’s a little too late to ask this, but who exactly is Y/N to you two?” asks Aether, his voice loud in the room's dead silence.

“It’s a long story,” Lynette says.

“Would it change anything if I told you?” Lyney challenges.

“To me, it would change something,” answers Aether, open and frustratingly honest.

Lyney lowers his gaze. “Then listen. At least now you’ll understand what you got yourself into.”

When you left the House, you also left an unsettling silence that jarred Lyney even to this day; he can��t visit so freely and not bear the weight of your disappearance. It was eerie and dark, and everyone was afraid to even speak your name for the first few days—like you were dead, like you weren’t to be seen again, and even the thought of that pained Lyney like no other.

The House was no longer your home; he had to accept that eventually. But it was fun and beautiful when you were still a part of it, and he would never choose to forget nor act like it never happened, as fleeting as it was. 

When Lyney first saw you, he felt childlike wonder. At first glance, it was nothing special—just curiosity. You were beautiful and stood out amongst the other orphans, like a glow, and Lyney was just a moth.

Before the House, magic was just a means of survival. He performed for the money, hoping that he and his sister could live another day. But when he saw you, striking the air hard and fast, Lyney thought you wore it like it was something special. You were performing, too, for the eyes of praise, but he understood that you weren’t the same. You were bright, lit up with a smile. You were enjoying it. Maybe that was what Lyney lacked; maybe that was what drew him to you.

He could be wrong. Maybe it was already love by then, or at least the beginning of it.

Lyney remembered moments that he’d bet you wouldn’t. Like when his sister got her Vision, and he was left behind. He was crumpled on the floor, a pathetic mess, while her sister was thrown into the face of danger. He couldn’t sit still, but he couldn’t do anything either.

“Are you still sulking?”

Lyney whined pitifully. “How can I protect her when she’s so far away?”

You glanced at him briefly, then traced the dull tip of your weapon. “You’re twins, are you not? Have you considered that Lynette was thinking of how to protect you, too?”

“What are you getting at?”

“You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love. The least you could do in return for Lynette’s hard work is to stop whining and keep up with her, no?”

Lyney blinked, offended and furious, but his anger was washed over by the warm feeling he sometimes got when you talked to him like this. “Are you also working hard?” he asked, settling beside you.

“I have to.”

You felt so much older than he was. So goddamn beautiful that it felt like Lyney was forced to never look away, painfully captivated. 

But as he learned more about you, he realized a few things: You were his age; you were never older than him; you were just trying to survive; you were more alike than he first thought. It felt like when it was just him and Lynette, and he had to act brave for his sister. Only it seemed you were doing it by yourself, for yourself.

Still beautiful, but in all the wrong ways. He found contentment in this pattern of pursuit, of pushing and pulling—it was the kind of thrill that he relished above all, and he could tell that, in some part of you that you wouldn’t admit, you liked it, too.

Lyney wonders to this day where it all went wrong.

Lyney finishes his story. Lynette sits quietly by the side, both of them watching Aether curiously. Aether has his head hanging low, frowning, no doubt surprised that the children of the House have deeper stories than he expects. They are not just Fatui. They were children, too—orphans trying to survive.

Lyney hopes Aether understands.

They are orphans who have hopes and dreams and hobbies. Orphans that had motivations and banter and dumb crushes. Orphans like you and Lyney, a complication, a commotion: something that Lyney wouldn’t trade for the world (until you did). Orphans that just happened to be Fatui.

“If you had a choice, would you still be a Fatuus?” Aether asks.

”It was never a choice for me; it was simply the path we were meant to take,” Lyney says.

Aether sinks into the couch, and Lyney thinks he finally gets it.

“Tell me what she meant by saying all this is your fault.”

Aether winces. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair, right?”

And so Aether tells them both about how he really met you. It was a devised plan, albeit a failed one due to the complications of their relationship and your unfinished business with ‘Father’ and the one next in line for the throne. Even now, you have to lie about yourself and run from the backlash.

“So you were doing it because of… us,” Lynette trails off.

“And look where that got me,” Aether sighs. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I really am sorry. I underestimated all of you.”

Lyney snorts. “At least you’re right about one thing.”

Aether’s gaze sinks to the ground guiltily.

Perhaps, to Aether, savior of regions, known worldwide as a hero, it was difficult to comprehend. Perhaps he met too many Fatui that had been out to get him, and stabbed him in the back, but Lyney needed Aether to understand that the Fatui was a large organization—you have The Doctor, then you have Lyney and his siblings. Lyney could only hope that Aether wouldn’t become so hostile after meeting you, too bright for this world, that you got snuffed out.

“Why did you do it?” Lyney asks. For whose sake was Aether trying so hard for?

“My sister.”

Lyney’s brows raise. “Your sister?”

“I’m doing all of this for her.”

You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love.

Lyney supposes he can’t hate Aether that much for that. And selfishly, Lyney supposes he can’t truly hate Aether because he brought you back to him. In a vague sense of camaraderie, Lyney understands.

Aether scratches at the back of his head. “Well, you have a plan, right?”

Lynette nods. “We’re waiting for him.”

“Who are we waiting for?”

Lyney directs his gaze to the ceiling, beyond it, to the sky. If any Archon was listening…  “The only person Y/N probably trusts right now.”

a/n this chapters very short i know but the next one is going to be posted in a few hours so theres going to be more

TAGLIST moved to comments bc tumblr is being annoying :(

[sparklingblu]

Atonement

Giselle x Male Reader

TW: blood, choking(not the hot kind), death, self harm, a lot of dark stuff

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth"

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

The moment these sinful word leaves Giselle's lips, you realize you have fallen right into her trap. And without a doubt, Giselle is aware of it. You can see it from the way the corner of her lips twitch like she's trying desperately not to mock at your loss for words, the way her eyes bore into yours as if challenging you to give the answer that have been on your mind for far too long. She tilts her head, urging you to response.

But even if you don't, she would have already known the answer. Anyone would. Giselle, the perfect example of teenage royalty. Giselle, who can make any men bow down before her with a flick of her finger. Giselle, who always act like she owns the world. And that's not so far from the truth. The world doesn't revolve around Giselle. The entire solar system does.

And she has every right to act that way. Money? Popularity? Charisma? There isn't anything Giselle can't check off on that list. Her parents being the main contributor to the university's funds, she's practically untouchable here. A goddess, you may even say. That's not a metaphor, because metaphors are a figure of speech. And Giselle is a long way off from it.

She has the type of aura that can turn heads wherever she lays her feet on. A vixen. A siren who pulls men in to their deepest, darkest fantasies they have never even realize existed till they have seen her. The worst thing? She takes pleasure in it. The thought that these men will fantasize about her, giving in to their carnal desires that she has awakened just by being in their presence. The amount of sperm that will be wasted on thoughts of her and her only before they are even given life. All those reminds her that she's Giselle. The untouchable. The unbothered.

If you start thinking you can beat Giselle in at least some aspect, think again. Because that will be your last thought before she shows you she's on the top of the food chain. What you are good at, she does it better. If not, she will make sure you are no longer good at it. Because she's Giselle.

People might ask, if she is that ruthless, wouldn't she be hated? Wouldn't she be an outcast? It's the total opposite. Her twisted and cryptic demeanor is what lures people into her dungeon, hoping to find a way through, hoping to get to her core, to get even the slightest idea of who she really is beneath these layers of her indifference, only to end up as another victim that has fallen to her arctic charm.

No one would be stupid enough not to recognize her deadly allure. The poisoned apple. The evidences lie all around them. Men, who would trade their soul just to have a chance with her. Women, who would die to be her. And in some cases, to be both. Yet, they follow the footsteps of those before them. Because she's that irresistible. A living embodiment of lust and pride. Tempting and tempting until you give in and take a bite of that forbidden fruit.

And you are not so far off from becoming one of them. With every passing second, it gets harder not to lay your eyes on Giselle. She has your undivided attention like an insect caught in a spiderweb.

You try averting your eyes to the far far wall, anywhere you will be freed of Giselle's pull, only to be greeted by the maniacal smile of the human skull, grinning like crazy, as if saying "You can't escape from her. Not now, not then"

You shouldn't have even come to this Halloween party in the first place. This whole night have been nothing but a mistake. You should have stayed in your room and finished up your assignment like you first intended to. Halloween is nothing but an excuse for people to get wasted and imitated things they aren't without the judgement from society for one single night. It should have dawned on you back then. You don't even have a costume. What do you want to dress as? You have no idea. A mummy? A wizard? A vampire? A fucking vampire. Out of all the cheesy options of pop culture icons, you have to choose the cheesiest one. With a trench coat a friend of yours borrowed, your swept back hair and your fake fangs, you looked like a handed down Edward Cullen.

Nevertheless, your desperation to fit in: to talk to real people rather than strangers online, ultimately lead you to your despair. Saying the party is lively would be an understatement. It has surpassed liveliness, it has a life of its own. People poured into Giselle's dorm, The Coven, from every direction. The eerie tunes of Halloween carols and artificial screams filled the air, which are farther complemented by the paper bats that hang from the ceiling an the fog machines hissing in the corner. On the dance floor, students move in hypnotic synchrony, their costume ranging from classic monsters to familiar icons you see everywhere. Bodies entwining and intertwining beneath the luminous glow of the string lights that scatter the ceiling.

Being the loner you are, the first thing you do when you arrive is look for someone you know. Anyone who can help you in the quest not to be the odd one out. You sigh in relief when you see one of the familiar face near a drink table, which is exceptional just like everything in this party. A champagne tower stands on the far end, which you are surprised someone wasted has not knocked it down yet. All across the length of the table lies buckets holding different type of bottles, a different kind of magic in each one. And if you are not a drinker, worry not because an ice bucket full of every known fizzy drink known to man is just up for grabs in one corner. Everything is designed to fit anyone's need. Only a fool would not give a second glance to this playground for taste buds.

And you are no fool, so you grab a glass of champagne and head to where your friend is, if you can call someone a friend after talking to them once during a lecture. He's cosplaying Pennywise but with his crumpled jumpsuit and the white makeup which is horribly done, he looks more like a circuit clown who just got fired. You don't expect him to recognize you but much to your surprise, he does. Offering a hand to shake, he says his formal greetings.

"This party is probably the best one I have ever been to" he says in awe. "I heard Giselle organize all of this, must be nice to have your parents paying your bill"

Hinting the envy and jealousy in his voice, you don't blame him. Because it's Giselle you are talking about. There's no one else here who can turn a party into a masterpiece. You should be thankful you got to be a part of it regardless if her parents pay for this or not.

So, you just nod in agreement and change the topic. After a while, you realize listening to a heartbroken guy/clown talking about his exes is not exactly the best thing to do at a party like this. This is not a chance you get everyday and you are not going to let it go to waste by tragedies.

"Excuse me for a moment" you cut him off, chug down rest of your champagne and wander farther. If the party was lively before, now it's on full swing. The dancing has escalated to make out sessions among some of the couples, fueled by the heat of the moment. Much to your disgust, a pool of vomit litters a spot on the floor, the work of someone who have had too much to drink. As you tear through the sea of people, either horny or drunk, you start to wonder if the whole university have been confined into one large mass of bodies here tonight. You bump into Frankenstein, nearly get knocked out by a drunk Darth Vader and hear a curse (not that kind of curse) from a Harry Potter , who's probably high.

You have already failed your initial plan to socialize, there's no way you can make conversation with these people who have transcended to the peak of bliss. Dancing is an option, if it isn't for the fact that you are a horrible dancer and your moves will be worse than those drunkards wilding without a care in the world.

Part of you want to leave, this place is starting to suffocate you with the stench of bodies that cover every inch of this hall, the euphoric faces that appear and disappear with each flash of the lights overhead and the worst of all, the make out sessions happening at any spot you lay your eyes on.

It's such an absurd idea to feel disturbed by the sight of lips against lips, tongues entwined with tongues. Afterall, it's just one of the many ways humans express their desires, the need to touch, to be touched. Yet, combined with this vague atmosphere of the party, the act becomes unbearably explicit.

You feel like a fool for seeing it this way but whatever this party is composed of, it's starting to affect you. What seems like a glamorous spree looks like a maze of skin and more skins to you now. The music, once perfectly fitted with the event, sounds like a broken symphony.

What you should do is indulge yourself in this moment. Just become one of the bodies that make up this sea of bodies. But regardless, you have to turn the whole thing into an illusion of madness and badness. Just to make an excuse to leave this damn place. Just because you don't want to admit you are never mean to be at social events.

And you would have lied to yourself and leave, if it isn't for the music that suddenly dies and the lights that dissolve into shadows. Apart from a few gasps that slip out, the entire room goes dead silent, save for the white noise of a humming fan in the background.

Your impulsive thoughts take this as a sign to re enter your mind. Is that it? Has the party ended? Maybe something went wrong with the electronics? Just more excuse to make yourself believe you don't leave this party because you wanted to. It has to be something else.

Thankfully, you are too caught in the abrupt halt that you are more curious to see what will happen next rather than act on your impulses. For a few seconds, the room remain still, swallowed by darkness. It seems to go on forever until light showered on a spot at the top of the spiral staircase, descending from one corner of the hall. Another glow pierce the gloom then another, until the whole staircase has been light up.

With the radiance that contrast the staircase and the rest of the room, it looks like a stairway straight from heaven, materializing only for the divine. But the one who descends from those steps is anything but divine. Depraved is too weak of a word to describe her.

Down from the stairs comes the queen herself, Giselle, with the faintest clue of a smile on her lips and her eyes, scanning the crowd the way a queen would do to her subjects. No one complains because everyone here is in debt to her. If it's not for Giselle, they will never achieve the felicity of this night, that they have happily surrendered to, unknowingly becoming just one of Giselle's pawns. And you are not excluded.

Giselle isn't wearing a costume, she's just in a different layer of skin. Why would she try to be someone else when she's already Giselle? If the darkness has been eliminated by the light, it is soon going to be reabsorbed by Giselle, whose entire frame is coated in a layer of black sheath dress. The long sleeves of her attire leave no room for skin except the opening at her collar bones, displaying her radiant milky skin. A stygian veil loom over her long hair that falls on either side, as if she's an Oracle going to mutter a prophecy at any moment. Nothing about the outfit makes Giselle stand out more. At a glance, another pretty girl of your fantasies. However, her eyes tell a different story. These pools of cerulean blue that pull anyone who dare to stare right into them like a tide, gripping their core, leaving them breathless.

She's too pretty to be human, you think. Maybe she isn't. Maybe she's send from the higher powers to test the homo sapiens of their real nature, to expose their deepest desires. If that's the case, everyone had already failed ,evident by the way their eyes follow her with each step she takes.

Giselle stops right in the middle step, regarding the horde of flesh stunned by her appearance.

"I'm sure you are having a blast" Giselle speaks, though her voice isn't thundering, it cuts through the crowd like ripples.

Everyone cheers, a cluster of voices competing to be heard. When the silence returns, Giselle speaks again.

"Let go of your worries tonight! Drink! Dance! Get wasted! Party like there's no tomorrow!"

Anther roar erupt from the crowd. A handful of people start dancing without music, overwhelmed with bliss. This time the noise don't cease, chatters of conversation amplify until the whole room is bustling with activity again, even with the lights gone.

A shrill like nail scratching on metal shrieked from the sound boxes, causing everyone to cover their ears, shutting their mouth. When the crowd is silent again, Giselle's voice appears once more.

"I'm glad to see you all are enjoying yourself but there's one last event of the night to top this entire party. I promised you have never ever experienced anything like this"

The crowd remains hushed, eager to hear the next words Giselle will say. Excited to be even more euphoric than they already are. Giselle, who seems to notice it, smiles with satisfaction. And that's the first time you have seen her truly smile.

The corner of her lips will twitch from time to time but they never bloom into a pure smile, quickly ceased before it's given life. But when she does, you become even more sure that she's not human. When people smile, they mean it as a way to show or act like they are glad, content or happy. But Giselle's smile contains neither of these emotions. It's like a work of art, superficially it's nothing but a bent in the line of her lips. But when it is studied closely, you realize she's not smiling out of pure bliss, but rather the joy she gets from seeing how the others cower before her. How easy it is for her to bend their wills without even trying.

However, your astonishment is short lived as Giselle's face returns back to her neutral expression again to continue her speech.

"Unfortunately, only a chosen few will be given the chance to experience this event. And to give everyone a fair chance, I decide to leave things to luck. Are you ready?"

The crowd agree in unison, anxious with anticipation. A shriek comes out from a girl concerning with someone spilling drink on her dress. But everyone is too focused on what comes next to care.

Giselle reached into her cleavage and pulls out five black roses, how she manages to fit all of them in there, you have no idea. Nevertheless, she raises her hand so that everyone can see the flowers.

"I will throw these roses into the crowd and the five person who manage to acquire them will join me in the event. However, there are rules. No one is allowed to move, shove or try to steal it from the ones who caught it. If anyone breaks these rules, they will be banned from this party. Get it?"

Everyone nods in agreement, though you notice some people secretly trying to shove the person in front of them to be closer to the front. One even acts like they trip just to claim that few extra inches.

"Ready? Here they go"

Giselle launches the roses into the air, which spirals into the crowd, admiring the sight with unblinking eyes. Your position isn't the best. You are not at the far back but you are not in the front either. You are in the center , where the bodies are the most compressing. You barely have any room to move.

But much to your surprise, a rose lands right on your hair and the horde around you turn to you, the envy and spite unfiltered on their faces. That should have been me, they would be thinking. You snatch the rose from your hair, twirling it from the stem.

You are still dazed by what had happened. Getting chosen for an exclusive event of Giselle? You must have used up your whole year of luck. Cheers erupt from the other four who share your fate. The rest of the crowd groan and murmur in disappointment.

"Seems like we have our winners!" Giselle announces, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "For the rest of you, the party will carry on. Enjoy yourself. The chosen ones, follow me up the stairs"

The light flood the hall again. Music starts blasting from the speakers. The party has returned back to its full swing. People departs heading back to carry on what they were doing. Drink, dance or get wasted, like Giselle had quoted.

You look up to the staircase and see Giselle already climbing back up, the other four following her steps. You are amazed to see that the Pennywise guy you talked to earlier is one of them. The other three are females. One dressed like Harley Quinn, the other a hybrid between Ariel and Aquaman, holding a trident and the last one looks like she just cuts up holes in an old blouse and put it on, hoping to look like someone.

Not wanting to be left out, you follow them. The stairway curves into a single door, which surprises you because you expect it to open up onto the upper floor. On the door, a strange symbol is curved. A thin upside down heart, almost identical to a tear drop, but this one have two bumps. Maybe another creepy Halloween decoration.

Without giving it much thought, you follow Giselle inside, who pushes the door open. You are left breathless by the sight before you. There isn't a room beyond the door. It's a whole chamber. A circular space encircled by shelves of books, vials and items you have never seen before. A small creature that looks like a fusion between a snake and a butterfly floats in a flask of green liquid. The other holds the skull of a cat, or so you think. Nearby, a strange liquid bubbles in a cauldron. The mixed smell of wood and rotten meat doesn't help. The one single window have been closed shut so that the only light source is the lamp on a nearby desk. If Giselle set all this up for tonight, she has gone way over the top.

"Welcome to my chamber!" Giselle says, her voice dripping with glee. Her blue eyes seem to hint the oncoming of something big. "Tonight, we are gonna play a special game. And trust me, you have never ever played it before"

From a drawer, Giselle pulls out a thin bottle, identical to the ones that hold wine. But it isn't an ordinary bottle. On the surface, strange symbols are curved, shapes and words of languages you don't understand. Another Halloween prop?

"We are going to play 'Spin the Bottle'!"

Giselle announces but no one replies. This is the special game? A party game every high schooler knows. Maybe the only difference being it's a Halloween themed bottle.

"Oh, I know what you are thinking" Giselle raises an eyebrow. "It's a game everyone knows, right? What's so special about it? Well, you will see"

She reaches into the drawer again and this time, she pulls out two decks of card. One looks freshly bought and the other worn out, the card corners bent. Giselle extend her arms, displaying the decks to the others.

"This is what makes it so special. I'll show you. Sit"

Giselle points to the floor. Seriously? But no one argue and take their places. You sit down, the Pennywise guy on your right and Harley Quinn on your left. Giselle sits right in front of you, Aquaman(or woman) taking her right and Ms. Tattered Clothes on her left. A circle is formed.

"Ehmm.... can you put that away?" Giselle asks Aquawoman, who's still holding her plastic trident. The girl's face lights up with a blush.

"Oh, sorry" she apologizes, quickly shoving her weapon onto a desk.

"Now, I will show you how to play" Giselle sets the bottle earlier in the middle space, putting each of the decks on either side. Everyone's eyes follow her moves intently, dying to know what makes everything so special. "It's very similar to a normal Spin the Bottle. Someone spins the bottle, and when it points to a certain person, they have to kiss, or choose one, Truth or Dare. But there's no kissing here. It's either Truth or Dare. Unlike the original game, you can't just ask or dare someone whatever you want. You have to pick a card" Giselle points to the new batch of cards. "This is the deck of Truth, if someone chooses to be honest, the spinner have to choose a card from here and ask them the question on the card" She points to the other worn out deck. "This is the deck of Fate, the deck for Dare, you can say. Choose a card from here if someone is feeling adventurous" Giselle looks each of you carefully. "Got it?"

You still doubt this game is anything but special. It's still Spin the Bottle with a couple extra items thrown in. There isn't anything that makes it stand out. Still, Giselle seems to think otherwise.

"Why no kissing?" Mr. Pennywise asks, the grin on his face makes him look even more abominable. You are thankful you are beside him so that you won't see his face constantly.

"Because I say so" Giselle says firmly. Again, showing everyone who's in charge.

"Oh...alright" Pennywise replies, disappointed. And you somehow feel glad to see him that way.

"Ok, let's begin. I will start first" Without a warning, Giselle spins the bottle. It rotates and rotates until it finally points at Mr. Pennywise. He grins again and you feel like throwing up.

"Man....if there was only kissing" he groans in disappointment. Giselle's expression remains unwavered.

"Truth or Dare?" she asks, tilting her head.

"I'm shy so...Truth!" he strains his voice on purpose and it's not funny, not at all.

"Very well" Giselle takes the top card on the deck. She raises it to read and you notice a symbol of a scale on the back, representing justice, or in this case, the truth.

"What's your greatest insecurity?" Giselle asks, looking at the guy straight into his eyes.

"Ehm....that's.." Pennywise scratches his head, seemingly baffled by the question. The whole points of insecurities is that you keep them to yourself. No one would spill it in a party game. Or would they?

"I...don't know" he tries for an awkward smile. "I'm always happy with myself so...."

"Is that so?" Giselle's voice is smug, as if she knows he's lying. "What do you think guys?" she asks the others. No one answers except the girl in the torn blouse. "Maybe....?"

"We will see soon" Giselle puts the card back into the deck, shuffling it. "Is your answer final?"

"Yeah, why not?" Pennywise answers, though he looks uneasy. "You are really hyping up this Halloween vibe, huh?"

"Oh, you flatter me. But you should have put your words to good use elsewhere" Giselle sounds almost delighted and the rest of the people in the room shifts uneasily, including you.

For a moment everything was silent. You could have heard your heartbeat if it's not for the popping sounds the boiling cauldron is making. Then it happens. Pennywise starts making sounds like someone have stuffed his throat with a rock. He clutches his neck, trying to scream. But the only sounds that come out are muffled whines like a deer getting run on by a truck, again and again. His eyes start to bulge as if they are going to jump out at any moment. His face white as a sheet of paper.

Everyone stares in shock, yet no one tries to help, too shocked by the scene before them. No one makes a sound except Giselle, who makes a note. "See? That happens when you are not honest"

"Make it stop! He's going to die" Harley Quinn cries, her eyes wide with terror.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything to him. He's being punished for his own mistake, being dishonest" Giselle muses lightly as if someone isn't dying before her.

Pennywise falls to the ground with a loud thud and his body goes limp. Aquawoman and Ms. Tattered Clothes screams. Your breath hitches. You hate this guy but you don't want him to die. Not like this.

"What have you done?" Harley Quinn screams in horror, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Nothing. He dug his own grave" Giselle says with indifference. Her face shows no sign of remorse.

"This game has gone too far! I'm leaving" Harley Quinn screams and stands up, trying to walk away. However, she falls back as if an invisible barrier has been put up. "Let me go!" she cries, tears already flowing down her face.

"Now now" Giselle looks at the girl. "No need to be afraid. You just have to be truthful if you don't want to end up like him. It's that easy. Once the game is over, you can leave"

"Let me go, please...." Harley Quinn pleads but Giselle's eyes are no longer on her. When her begging goes unanswered, the girl sits up, sniffling. The others silent as they were.

All this time, you are staring at the lifeless face of Pennywise. His mouth hangs open in an unfinished scream. The terrors in his eyes accentuating his pale lifeless face that you have no idea how it gets even whiter over his clown makeup. His fingers crooked, trying to cling on something. Anything that will keep him alive.

He's dead, you think. He's really dead. This is no longer another Halloween prop. It's a real corpse. Is Giselle the one who did it? She didn't even lift a finger but isn't she the one who starts this game? Maybe it's the cards. Maybe they are magic.

The sense of pride and joy you had had earlier is gone. This is one deadly game. All you want to do is get out of here as soon as possible. But Harley Quinn had already proved it's not a choice. You must stay here.

"Shall we continue?" Giselle asked, handing the bottle to Harley Quinn, maybe out of pity, if she even feels pitiful.

The girl takes the bottle with shaking hands and before she spins it, Giselle raises a hand. "Oh, wait. We have an inactive member"

You instantly realizes she's talking about the lifeless body beside you. She points to it and asks. "You, Mr. Vampire. Can you shove that body somewhere?" she asks it the way someone would ask for a pencil, without a trace of loath in her voice. Like she's asking you to get rid of a dead fly.

"Yeah..sure" you complies. After seeing what happens to Pennywise and Harley Quinn, you are not feeling rebellious. Giselle isn't the one to mess with. You hold the body up by the arms and drag it to a nearby shelf, propping it.

Suddenly, a thought enters your mind. You are away from Giselle. There's no invisible barrier when you stood up. This is the chance to get away. To get out of this mess that has just begun once and for all. You cast a glance to the door and instantly, Giselle's voice flows through your ears. "Don't even think about it"

Without further words, you return to your initial space, now between Harley Quinn and Aquawoman, who had took the vacant spot.

"Let's begin" Giselle orders and Harley Quinn spins the bottle without hesitation. It whirls and whirls, finally slowing down before you.......no, it's Aquawoman.

"Truth or...Dare?" Harley Quinn asks, her voice still shaky from crying earlier. For a moment, Aquawoman is silent. Then she makes her choice. "Dare"

"Oh...this one is feeling adventurous" Giselle compliments. Her eyes fixed on the girl so intently it looks like she's going to burn a hole through her.

Harley Queen picks up the card from the old deck. The symbol on the back of this card is a scythe, a symbol for punishment? Not really a good idea. She gulps after seeing what's written on the card. "You....you have to..." she stutters.

"Say it dear" Giselle urges. "Say the words"

"You have to paint your name....with your....your...blood..." Her words thin to a whisper at the end.

Aquawoman looks like all the blood in her body have been sucked out. "What..?" she asks, although there isn't a need. The instructions are clear.

"You heard her, dear. You have to write your name in your own blood. Doesn't it sound fun?" Giselle asks. If she's trying to be funny, now is not the time.

"I can't......please ask me to do anything. Not this...please, I beg you" Aquawoman begs but Giselle simply shrugs her shoulders.

"You have to do what yo are asked. Or else, you see what happened to Mr. no insecurities. You want to follow him?" Giselle's words seem to snap the girl back to her senses, though nothing about this makes sense.

"How do I do it?" she asks. Her voice so small you have to focus on every words.

"Simple" Giselle stands, takes a dagger from a drawer and hands it to her. "Paint it on the floor right in front of you. By the way what's your name?"

The girl swallows. "Penelope" Not a good time to have an eight letter names, you think. You wonder if her blood is enough. There are nearly six liters of blood in a human body but even if less than half of it is lost....You shut your train of thoughts. Not another corpse. It can't happen.

Aquawoman takes the dagger with trembling hands and sits down, staring at it as if it's a foreign object. Slowly, she pulls up the sleeve, raising it to her forearm, setting the edge on her flesh. It sinks in and a trail of blood starts to pour from the opening. Grimacing, she collects it with her forefinger and writes the first letter on the floor, P. But it isn't enough as half of the letter only formed.

The girl sinks the blade deeper, her lips pursed, trying to seal away a scream. More blood pours. The first letter is completed. You watch the gruesome scene as the girl paints her name. E, then N, after that L. Halfway but she's already trembling. Her whole arm is soaked with blood.

Giselle watches it with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Now you know what's beneath that cold face everyone tries to decipher. It's a sick, twisted mind. Ruined beyond repair. And she likes it that way.

"I can't do this anymore..." Aquawoman mutters in a hoarse voice, setting the dagger down. "It hurt so much"

"Just use your other arm" Giselle advices. "You are nearly there"

"But...." the girl reconsiders and takes the dagger with her bloody hand, raising it to cut another opening in her other arms. She slices and more blood flows. More paint.

The girl continues painting, her temples beaded with sweat. If her eyes can speak, they are screaming for help. The name gets completed one word after another. O, P, then she stops.

"Please......it...it hurts....I'm nearly done, please...can I.." she pleads and begs. Her hands trembling, both covered in red.

"One last letter" Giselle muses. "Complete it"

"I can't....please...?" she asks for mercy. But Giselle isn't known for being merciful.

"Are you saying you can't do it?" Giselle insists.

"No...no....but I can't-" She drops her dagger and stumbles forward, propping herself on her palms. She has lost too much blood.

"Very well then" Giselle says, her expression solemn.

"I...I don't want to.." The girl can no longer speaks. Not because she is choking. But because blood starts to pour from her eyes. A waterfall of blood, enough to write her names a hundred times. You back away in disgust, a few drops staining your coat. The other two cover their eyes, unable to comprehend the horror of the scene. Gisell watches the never ending flow of blood with interest. Not even caring the droplets hitting her dress.

"What a pity, she was so promising" Giselle sighs as the body lands on the floor with a loud thud. "Another one eliminated. Mr. Vampire, would you be so kind to..?" She points it a the corpse. Damn this, why does everyone around you have to die? Without complaint, you grab her from the waist, the only part unstained with her blood and put her next to Pennywise.

Two down. Two corpses. Who's next? You should have left when you had the chance. You should have continue being the loner you are. Stay in your room and spend Halloween watching Dracula. At least it won't be real. At least you won't die. Your desperation have lead you to your demise. There's no way out of here.

Regardless, this game that's nothing but sick must go on. Because Giselle says so. All of you are nothing but pawns on her chessboard. Disposable. Weak.

You expect Giselle to take the spot next to you but instead, Harley Quinn takes it. Giselle is still right in front of you. Those pools of blue still piercing into your soul, inch by inch. Now the circle, or rather a rhombus, consists only of four.

No one complains. They have already seen two examples. No one's eager to become another. The bottle is now in the hands of Ms. Tattered clothes, who stares at it like it's an explosive. You have no idea about the order the bottle is being passed. But it just one of the many thing that doesn't make any sense.

The bottle spins, pointing directly across from the spinner, at Harley Quinn.

"Truth or Dare?" This question, these words that have reaped two souls.

"Truth" Harley Queen makes her choice, at least she won't be cutting her vessels open. That's not exactly a reassuring thought. You have no idea about the other questions in that deck.

A card is pulled. The question is read.

"If someone here is to die, who do you wish it is?"

A simple question, yet the answer a double pointed sword. You know her answer because you would have answered the same. It's 'Giselle'. If she's dead, you all can leave. You all can stop playing this deadly game. But if the truth is spoken, who knows what Giselle will do?

"It's..eh..." Harley Queen stutters, debating with herself. Tell the truth, she risks facing Giselle's wrath. Lie, she dies. Neither's a good choice.

"It's ok dear, speak your mind" Giselle encourages. She pulls her veil farther below and the shadows it cast pale the blue of her eyes. Yet, they are as intent as ever.

"You" Harley Quinn makes her decision. She lowers her head like she's scared of what comes next.

"Eh....honest..." Giselle muses, a faint smile forming on her lips, the exotic kind. "Your courage is admirable, dear. The truth is good. But sometimes, it must be twisted to fit the situation. Afterall, the Truth is bitter"

Giselle smiles and again you are baffled by its arcane amidst the chaos. You would have forgotten you are on the verge of dying had she not sheathed it.

"I'm sorry dear. Such honesty should be rewarded but this time the stakes are high" Giselle sighs, blowing air.

"This is unfair! I spoke the truth! I'm going to die either way, why are you doing this?" Harley Quinn bellows in rage. Her face so red you think it's going to explode.

"You are correct. Lie or Truth, both leads to the same end. But I'm doing this because I find it fun. Because I can" Giselle admits and you have no doubt that she is ,in fact, enjoying this. Her smile had said it all.

"You can't do this! If others know..." her words are cut short by the flames that engulf her. You back away in shock. Thankfully, you don't get to move another corpse as the flames consumes everything in one swift blast. Ash, the remnants of what was once human rain to the floor.

"She talked too much. It's a good thing she went quick" Giselle says lazily. This dead seems to be the least interesting to her.

The nature of the game has become obvious. Truth or Dare, you die either way. It's inevitable. Everyone here must meet their end to satisfy Giselle's hunger. But of course, the game must go on.

"Your turn, pretty boy" Giselle says, handing you the bottle. You take it. Even before spinning, you already know who it's gonna land on. And of course, it does. The deadly little container point rights towards Ms. Tattered Clothes. Another vicitm. The second last.

"Truth or Dare?" You say the three deadly words.

The girl is silent, seemingly struggling to say the right words. Except that there isn't one. Her whole face is frozen in fear, staring into space.

"Hurry up, dear" Giselle says. "We don't have all night"

The girl raises her head to look at Giselle, pleading with her eyes.

"I don't want to die. Please....I will do anything..." she cowers before Giselle, begging for her life. Giselle seeems amused at the fragile creature bowing before her. The idea of having someone's life to do as she wishes filling her with delight.

"Now, don't be scared. Nothing lasts forever afterall. The least you can do is make a choice. Truth or Dare?" Giselle repeats your question.

"I...I'm..." The girl sits back up, realizing there's no way to escape. "Truth"

Giselle looks at you and you pull a card from the deck of Truth. You flip the card to the other side, only to be greeted by a strange sight. The other side of the card is blank. No letters or questions, just a white space.

"What's the meaning of this?" you asks, showing the card to Giselle.

"Oh dear, I'm really sorry" Giselle says with false compassion. "Seems like you have landed on the empty card, which means there's no questions for you to answer"

"What do you...mean?" the girl insists. "This must be a mistake, maybe he can pull another card"

"That would be against the rules" Giselle set the card down in front of the girl. "And I like to follow them"

"So what? If I didn't answer, I wouldn't be lying right? That means I won't be punished" The girl insists once more. And in a sense, what she says make sense. How could she lie if there isn't even a question?

"You are not wrong" Giselle replies. "But it also means you wouldn't be telling the truth either. And that would be lying"

"That makes no fucking sense!" The girl screams, letting her anger gets the best of her. "You are just finding an excuse to kill people!"

"I thought you already know" Giselle sighs. "You are a slow one"

The girl turns to you. "Please, help me. You are going to die too, you know that right? Maybe if both of us can-"

And then she is no more. Her whole body dissolves into a whirlwind of colors which gets sucked in to the blank page of the card like a vortex.

"A shame" Giselle puts the card back into the deck. "Seems like it's just us now"

You have never thought much thought to what happens after death. But now, you start wondering if you have done enough good to get into Heaven. You surely haven't done anything catastrophic but you haven't accomplished anything remarkable either. You just have to hope the good outweights the bad. Because soon, you will be nothing more than another soul reaped for Giselle's amusement.

What was left of Giselle's facade as the perfect human being has gone. She's anything but that. A demon that indulges herself in the suffering of others. Plucking a life after another like fruits.

Giselle takes the bottle. "My turn" she muses, her voice eager to conclude the act. You being the one to close it out.

The bottle doesn't need to be spinned. The result is clear as day. Giselle does it anyway. The compass of death spins and spins, inevitably pointing towards you.

"Truth or Dare?" The last question for this night, the last question you will hear.

"Truth" you reply, surprised at yourself for how quick your respone is. Have you accepted your end?

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

Giselle asks, not pulling a card from the deck. Doesn't it break the rules? No, Giselle makes the rules.

The question seems so odd compared to the others you have heard tonight. The other ones are designed either to force you to lie or mix you up so thoroughly you can't answer. But this question? The answer is simple but not without risk. Giselle, the only other human being here, the sole female, that's the answer, the truth. But you don't want to go up in flames like Harley Quinn did nor you want to choke to death like Pennywise. There isn't a way out. You accept your fate.

"You" you answer. "I would do it with you"

Giselle's face shows no emotion. Her eyes staring into yours, unblinking. You start repenting the sins you might have done. Sooner or later, you would end in a horrible way.

"I think so" Giselle finally speaks. She pulls down her veil to let her hair fall freely around her shoulder. Without it, she looks even more sinister. A wolf in sheep skin.

"End me already" you requests. "Let's finish this"

Giselle chuckles. The voice that comes out is frozen, like she hasn't laughed in a millennia and she's just trying again right now.

"What a brave man" Giselle praises. "But you won't escape me that easily. What you will face is worse than death"

You curse under your breath. Death is not the ideal option but at least it will release you. Now, that chance has went up in smoke.

"Lie down" Giselle orders.

"Why?" You questions. If you are not going to die, at least you want to know what you will be facing.

"Lie down" she repeats. Knowing there's no point in defying her, you obliges. Giselle walks up to you, setting a foot on your chest, looming over you. She smirks and that's when you get a crazy thought. The others were lucky. At least they escape this in a way. You wouldn't.

"Good boy" she compliments. You feel a sense of joy despite the state you are in. It feels so wrong. "Lose your fangs, I don't want you to bite"

You pull of the fake fangs from your mouth. Though you still looks like a sleep deprived vampire with the rest of your attire.

Giselle pulls back her leg, regarding you with her blue eyes like a predator ready to pounce. If she starts skinning you alive, you wouldn't be surprised. However, what she proceeds to do is the exact opposite.

She kneels beside you, her fingers trailing along your chest. The touch left you craving for more. With each movement, she sends a shiver down your spine. At this moment, the only god you will worship is Giselle. You will devote your soul to her if it means she will keep doing this.

Her fingers trail across your chest, down to your waist and then land right on your crotch. She squeezes your clothed mamba, which is already rock hard from her gratifying touch. A smile forms on her lips once more. This time from the joy of seeing how badly you need her.

"Oh, you are already so hard" Giselle mocks and squeezes your dick over the fabric once more. The agony from her harsh grip merges with pleasure and you can no longer distinguish which is which. All you know is you want her to keep doing this. Keep hurting you because with pain, there's pleasure.

"Are you enjoying this?" Giselle gives one final squeeze and let go, leaving you throbbing. You could have cummed from her hands alone if she repeats the motion one more time. Nonetheless, you want her to keep going. To find comfort in the hands of your reaper. The very thought shames you but it gets clouded by a stronger emotion, lust.

Giselle presses her upper body against your chest and you would have put your hands on her waist if it isn't for the fact that she could kill you in a heartbeat. Her black hair streaked with blonde sprawled out on your torso, a curtain of silk. If it isn't enough to drive you wild, the rosy smell of her perfume mixed with the faintest scent of her sweat does the job. Diamond is no longer the hardest material on earth because your cock is already pushing through your pants, trying to escape its boundaries.

Giselle moves further up, lining her face with yours. Under the glow of the lamp, you get the full view of her boobs, which are pushed upward with how hard she's pressing into you. The trench of her cleavage is a dark pit without a bottom, which you will eagerly jump into. Just to get more of her. To indulge in her.

Her fingers move along your ribs, your neck, ending on your face, cupping it, holding it like something tender. "Vampire doesn't suit you, you know?" she asks. Just a simple remark but it deprives you of your common sense. All you feel now is regret. Regret for cosplaying as this stupid creature. Regret for not being good enough for Giselle. "But outfits can be removed, hmm?" Giselle starts unbuttoning your shirt and in this case, literally unbutton. She pulls off the first button. Then the other. Then the other.

A fire has been lit inside you and with each button you lose, the flames rose higher. Giselle's touch is electric and even if it's deadly, you will happily surrender. Because you crave for it too much to care.

Giselle spread open your shirt, the sides parting to reveal your bare chest. She lays a finger and trace it down to your stomach. Her eyes lit up with thrill when they land on your bulge. "Oh, nearly forgot him" Giselle grabs you waistband and pulls it down. Your cock springs up, finally escaping its confinement, throbbing with anticipation.

Giselle holds it from the base and gives it one single pump. And you realize that is all you have needed in life. Your mind is screaming 'Keep going. Don't stop' but you don't utter a single word. Either you are paralyzed from her touch or you don't need to. Because Giselle already knows.

"Look at you, all pumped up. Do I turn you on that much?" She doesn't need to ask. The evident is before her eyes. Another pump. A groan escapes your lips. She smiles. "But it would be unfair if you get your release so quick after everything you went through, hmm?" You want to scream. Tell her to let you cum. In any way. Even her hands are enough. Just let you out of this beautiful prison.

She stands and your dick aches, yearning for her touch again. Giselle stands right above your face, her feet set on either sides of you. You get a glimpse of her pussy. And you swear it's the most perfect thing you have seen.

"How's the view down there?" Giselle asks. "Do you like my pussy?" Yes, you would have answered. Absolutely. But as usual, your vocal cords lose their ability.

"You wanna taste it?" Giselle lifts up the hem of her dress, just enough to expose her full round ass. Skin snowy white just like the rest of her body. "I don't hear an answer"

"Yes..." You manage to utter one single word through the invisible chokehold.

"Very well.." Giselle lowers her ass, taking her rightful throne right on your face. No sooner you feel the pressure than you start licking her pink cavern like there's no tomorrow. Your nose is squashed between her buttocks, cutting off your supply of oxygen. But you don't care. Because this is all you have ever wanted.

"Mhmm yes....just like that" Giselle words encourage you to continue your service to her, treating her like the goddess she is. There is only one goal in you mind at the moment. Make her cum. So that she will praises you. Just one single word would be enough.

So you channel everything you have into your tongue. Slurping her pussy, eating her out. Each time your tongue runs across her velvety flesh, you extract a moan from her. You twirl your tongue on her clit and Giselle tense up, another impure sound betraying her lips.

"God, yes....don't stop..." You don't plan to. Your face is drenched in the juice already spilling out of her and your own spit. This is just a small price to pay to taste the delicacy between her legs. The taste can only be described as otherworldly. Because you are sure there isn't anything that taste like this on earth.

Giselle starts rocking her hips, making your tongue catches up with her pace. She's fucking herself on your tongue, just another object to appease her. Your flesh and blood, all hers. And she will use it as she sees fit.

You hold onto her thighs for support. You are drowning in her elixir, the juice that's suffocating you yet empowers you to keep going. Giselle had said this is worse than death. But maybe it isn't so bad afterall.

However, being deprived of oxygen for so long have its consequences as you start feeling your consciousness slowly drift away, although your tongues move as vigorously as ever. Giselle is still rocking on your face, feeding you the nectar you crave so bad. You are starting to think this is how you will die when a waterfall of the clear liquid pour out of Giselle's cavern, soaking your face whole.

You gasp, your lungs filled with air again after Giselle stop using you as a meat chair. One last drop of her juice falls onto your lips. Instinctively, you lick it up.

" You did well, pretty boy" Giselle praises, her voice hoarse. "You deserve a reward" Those were the sweetest word you have ever heard. She walks slowly back to where your legs lay sprawled on the floor. Sitting down, a hand of hers wrap around the base of your stiff cock. "Miss me?" she asked, giving it a pump. Your body tense from her lethal touch. Giselle takes this as a sign to keep going.

She starts moving her hand up and down, stroking every inch of you. The fire in you burn brighter than ever. Waves after waves of pleasure course through your veins and you drown in them happily. With the other hand, Giselle fondle your balls, giving each one a gentle squeeze. "Look how full they are. Is it because of me, hmm?" Not wanting her to stop, you answer briskly. "Yes, yes...." "I think so" Giselle move her remaining hand from your balls to your shaft, now pumping it with both her hands. There isn't a single inch she misses and from time to time, she would rub your tip with her thumb, delivering extra fatal blows.

All you can do is take in the feeling. But you don't close your eyes because it would be stupid to miss the sight of a goddess giving you a handjob. All it exists in the world for now are Giselle's hands, your cock and the flames inside you that dance wild.

"Are you feeling good? You like my hands, huh?" Giselle asks, picking up the pace even more. This time you are too lost in bliss to answer. Not daring to miss the feeling of one single pump because it could be the last. Giselle is giving you a handjob not because she wants you to feel good. Just like everything else in her world, your dick exists to entertain you. She's rejoicing in the sense of superiority, the ability to deliver or deny you pleasure.

She's being generous at least. Her hands don't seem to be stopping time soon. However, your end is near. The flame inside you have turned into a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment. The tingling sensation starts to grow into an amalgam of throbs and pulses. Giselle, who undoubtedly feel it, smiles. "Are you going to cum?" Another unnecessary question. "Cum, cum all over my hands"

And that's all you need to hear before you erupts, spewing globs after globs of cum. Some land on Giselle's dress, the others spill down her fingers. She keeps pumping you until your climax finally subside.

"That's a lot. It would be a shame to let it go to waste" Giselle licks your cum off her fingers and the sight alone is enough to get you hard again. She sucks the last drop off her middle finger and her eyes rest on yours. "We are just getting started. I hope you have a lot more"

You nod and that's not a lie because your dick is already up again like a spear. But this spear will impale something else.

"I want that cock stuffing me full, now" Giselle orders. "Come on, you have been on the ground for so long" You stands up and follow Giselle's lead, who bends over on a desk and spreads open her lips to reveal her pink insides. An invitation. "Just fuck me already"

Instantly, you shove your pole into her wet folds. Giselle lets out a gutteral moan, her back arching. "Oh, yes.....stuff me with that huge cock" If her hands had felt phenomenal to you, her wet cunt feels a thousand times more. You thrusts into her wet hole again and again, already lubed up by her juices earlier.

"Oh god, yes....just like that" Giselle moans and you gives her ass a slap, unable to resist the sight of it rippling each time your cervix meets her buttocks. More juice flows and Giselle moans louder. You knead the soft flesh of her ass, the touch of her skin like cotton in your grasp.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" You are already putting every ounce of your strength but if Giselle orders, who are you not to oblige? You slam your hips harder. Your cock is already soaking from her juice and the friction no longer matters. It moves with the speed you desire.

Right at that moment, your eyes fall on the two corpses you have lined up against the shlef. Pennywise, with his bulging eyes and midway scream seems to be telling you "Is this what we die for? So that she can fuck you?" The other one, Aquawoman, with her blood soaked body seems to ask the same thing.

But the sickest thing is you wanna answer 'Yes, this is what you die for, so that I can fuck her' How corrupted have you become to put your animalistic desire above the life of others? But it no longer matters because the feeling of Giselle's cunt on your cock is the only thing you need.

Your attention reverts back from the lifeless bodies as Giselle's walls clench you hard. She was tight before. Now she's even tighter. You give your all to penetrate her tight folds but after going for so long, your strength is starting to waver. Giselle, however, is as energetic as ever. She pushes her ass back to meet your thrusts halfway, impatient to wait even for a split second.

You can only take so much as the second spiral of tingles start working their way down to your pelvis. "Fuck, Giselle, I'm gonna cum.." you warn. "Give it all to me, babe. Fill up my cunt. Yesssss..." Giselle hisses as her tight hole get pumped with the next torrent of baby batter exiting your shaft. Despite cumming earlier, the second orgasm hits you with the same euphoric wave, you start seeing the stars.

A steady drip of cum pours out of Giselle's pussy as you pull out. You are panting and all your limbs feel like jelly. Giselle has sucked out every bit of strength left in you. Pushing a finger into her pulsing hole, Giselle scoops out some of your cum, tasting it. "Mhmm...creamy.." She mutters as though she's testing out a new dessert. Maybe to her, it is.

"Are you already tired? Awwww....poor boy. But you know you can't stop until I'm satisfied right?" Giselle's words wash over you like a tide. Suddenly, you start believing you can go again. Afterall, your sole purpose is to entertain her.

You nod and you no longer knows if it's you or whatever is possessing you in this moment. All you can think is how you want to serve Giselle. Even if someone try to give you the escape you have been seeking desperately earlier, you would have refused it. Because now, you are Giselle's.

"Good boy" These words. How you crave them. You would do anything just to hear these words. "Sit" Giselle points to a wingback chair nearby, red just like the blood flowing from the corpse. You obeys. Giselle stands right in front of you, her arms folded. "Here's a little treat for you" Giselle pulls off her dress from the hem, making herself bare. Her body is a work of art, sculpted by the creator himself. Your masculine urges lead your eye right to her tits, which is as perfect as the rest of her body. The round globes that you can suck on for the rest of your life. "You like my tits?" Just one of the many redundant questions of the night. "Yes..." You mutter dreamily. "Taste them" Giselle grips the arms of the chair and leans in, her milkbags only an inch from your face. Instantly, you rises to put your lips on her tits, the other hand kneading the supple flesh of the other. You suck on her nipples ad even an infant can't rival your hunger. You need this.

"Do you like them that much?" With your mouth stuffed with her nipple, you can't answer. You don't need to. You move the attention of your lips to her other tit, switching positions with the first one. As you slurp and lick her tits, blood start to flow to your dick again. Not as hard as earlier but enough to do the job.

Suddenly, Giselle moves back and you are greeted by the emptiness. Sensing your disappointment, she chuckles. "Oh, babe. Don't be so upset, we have better things to do" She kneels, the shadow of your fully erected cock darkening her features. "I wonder how you taste" Giselle licks the underside of your shaft. One single movement but nonetheless, you bask in the sensation. "Not bad.." Another lick. This time on your tip. She twirls her tongue, collecting the remnants of cum from the earlier session. "Delicious...." And just like that, she swallows your shaft all the way down to the base. Her nose presses against your plevis but her eyes remain focused on yours.

You throw your head back. The walls of her throat are no less talented than her pussy walls. Gag reflex seems to be a joke to her as she impale herself on your cock over and over, barely making a sound except the occasional gurgle of spits flowing from the corner of her lips. Her plump lips seal around you perfectly, tracing every vein with each bob. Giselle ways to use you doesn't seem to be running out anytime soon and you like it that way. You want her to keep using you until you are no longer human but a vessel for her pleasure.

And her eyes. If her mouth is sucking the physical strength out of you, they are draining your willpower. There is no present or future. There's only Giselle.

Giselle releases your cock from her mouth with a pop, her hands now stroking your cock, drenched in her spit. "I must say...I'm impressed. No one have last that long" Is she talking about 'lasting' as in not dying yet? You couldn't care less. Her fingers glide over your pole smoothly with the lube her spit provides. She twists her fingers, cockscrewing you. The hunger in her eyes never dim and it never will. She will never be satisfied. Not by you, not by anyone else. You are just another toy, thrown away when it gets boring.

Another spiral of twists and turns, her hands work like magic. Not a single second goes to waste because there's nothing else that can cut off your attention. You moan and you hate yourself for it. But if Giselle likes it, your emotions can be thrown away.

"How cute. You are whining" Her movements turn swift, determined to milk you of every last drop. "Are you gonna cum again? Hmm? It's ok, cum on my tits. You have been a good boy. You deserve this" Words have powers and you believe it. As soon as her lips stop moving, your body jerks, spraying spurt after spurt of cum on her tits. Most of it find their way to the canvas of her boobs but a few land on her face. "Yes, babe...let it all out" Giselle hands leave your shaft.

Once again gripping the chair arms, she leans in, this time to your face. "Goodbye" She presses her lips to yours. A sense of calm flows through your core. Her lips that just sucks you off press harder and harder. Her tongue enters your mouth and you return the action, a ballad of muscles with the symphony of breaths. You can't stop. She won't stop.

Suddenly, you realize. You can't breathe. Air wouldn't enter your lungs. Does it matter? Breathing, is it as important as Giselle? No, it isn't. You are well aware you have gone insane. Ever seen a mad man and wonder what's going on in his mind? Don't. He knows himself more than you ever will. So you don't need to be questioned. You have accepted your fate. If it's a curse, you will gladly embrace it because all you can think of is Giselle, Giselle and Giselle until your last breath.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

(I have never written something this crazy before. But who isn't for Giselle?)

[syrupfog]

Zoro hates it here. 

“Tough shit,” says Nami. “You have to suffer through the evening to meet your fucking FIANCÉ.” 

Zoro scowls. He’s never met the man. They’ve been engaged since he was young enough to still fight with bamboo swords. “It’s not like I’m going to marry him.” 

“I keep saying a political marriage would really help your image,” Nami lectures, “but regardless, this is PROTOCOL. Your parents would be ashamed of you trying to skip out on this.” 

“My parents died when I was six, and you never met them.” 

“Yet I know better. Now come on.”

It’s a lavish ballroom that Zoro never uses, and he’s in clothes he never wears. He’s itchy. Standing next to his throne, as is PROTOCOL, thanks Nami, he watches the procession as they enter. 

Their king is tall and clearly pompous. His outfit gaudy. His children come behind him.

Zoro’s people, his most trusted, are fanned throughout the room, but the king and his children stand a head above everyone. Zoro counts one daughter and three sons, each of them standing equally proud and in equally flashy clothes. 

No, wait. 

Is that a fourth son or a servant?

He’s shorter than the others, thinner, almost sickly in comparison. But he’s wearing the royal finery. His head is bowed, in contrast to theirs. A cousin maybe? Why is he here? 

The king marches directly up to Zoro and does not bow, which he SHOULD do on Shimotsuki soil.

He stands straight, and says, “Crown Prince Roronoa, I present to you my children; Reiju, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji, and Sanji.” 

The— the sickly pale one? HE’s the one Zoro’s been promised to? 

Sanji keeps his head down, but unlike his siblings he does a slight bow upon introduction.

Zoro scowls until Nami kicks him. Then he bows back, EVER so slightly, and gestures to the room at large. “Please enjoy the evening,” he says. “You’ve come a long way.” He can feel Nami breathing down his neck. “Let me personally escort Prince Sanji, so we have time to… talk.”

He holds out his arm and Sanji, obligingly, slips his hand into the crook of Zoro’s elbow. He hears snickering behind him as he leads Sanji away.” 

The crowd parts around them, and Zoro grinds his teeth. He’d really prefer not to break up with someone he’s never even met.

Still, such things must be done. Leading Sanji out onto the balcony, in the cool night air, Zoro lets his arm fall and then turns to him. “So,” he hedges. “Our parents betrothed us.” 

Sanji inclines his head. “Yes, sire,” he says, staring resolutely at the floor.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m my own person now, and I don’t particularly feel like getting married to someone I’ve never met.” 

At that, Sanji’s eyes shoot up, wide and searching. 

“So I release you from this bond,” Zoro says. “Or whatever it was Nami says I should say.”

“You—“ Sanji stutters. “N-no, wait.” 

Zoro crosses his arms. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me,” he says. “I have no interest in marrying someone I’ve never met.” 

“Y-you’re meeting me NOW,” Sanji cries. “You can get to know me! Give me a chance.”

He looks like he would collapse in a strong wind, already standing with one arm braced against the railing. Zoro is a warrior, he needs someone who can challenge him, not… whatever this is. “I’ve made up my mind,” he says. “Sorry you had to come all the way here.”

Sanji starts tugging on his hair. “No,” he says again. “You can’t do this! You— I’ll—“ 

“What?” Zoro asks. “You’ll tell daddy on me?” 

Breathing heavily, Sanji looks at him with wild eyes. “Please,” he says. “I’ll— do anything. You won’t know I’m here. Just don’t—“

Then, in what seems like a snap decision, he turns around and takes off running. 

Zoro follows, languidly, watching him race back through the ballroom. He figures he’ll run to his father and start telling him what a monster Zoro is, but instead Sanji takes the first door out.

Shit. Zoro speeds up. That’s the door to the rest of the castle, not the way out or the way to his family. What the hell? 

He keeps his pace slow enough to not alert TOO many in the ballroom (though he sees the thunderous look Nami throws his way), but as soon as he’s through the door Sanji left through, he also takes off at a run, seeing Sanji at the end of the hallway. 

The castle is enough of a maze for Zoro on a good day, he’s certain that if he slows down for even a second he’ll lose the prince somewhere in his own halls.

The one point in his favor is that Sanji does seem to truly be sickly, even at a run he’s not particularly fast. It takes three turns and a set of stairs before Zoro catches him running into an open door that he KNOWS doesn’t have an exit.

He follows Sanji in and slams the door behind him. It’s a bedroom, and Zoro knows immediately which one, namely because it’s in use. 

“Hey Luffy,” Zoro says. Nami had banned Luffy from attending, to prevent “incidents”. 

Luffy waves. He’s reclining on his bed with a turkey stick.

“You see a prince come in here?” Zoro asks. “Scrawny, pale, can’t take no for an answer?” 

Luffy laughs through his teeth. “I don’t know about any of that,” he says. “But there’s a guy in a fancy outfit in my wardrobe.” 

Aha. 

Zoro rounds on the wardrobe.

One hand on each knob, he pulls it open with a flourish. 

Sanji is there, curled with his knees to his chest, staring up at Zoro with watery eyes. 

“Asylum!” He yelps. “I claim asylum!” 

Zoro blinks. “You that ashamed of getting dumped?” He asks. 

Sanji grits his teeth.

“Grant me asylum,” he says, voice firmer. “Or you’re going to be at war with Germa by sunset for killing their prince.” 

“I’m not fucking killing you, I’m just—“ 

“I will throw myself out that window before I have to go back there.” 

Luffy whistles. “I like him,” he says.

“You’re being dramatic,” Zoro growls. 

“I’m a dead man if I go back there,” Sanji says. “If you’re going to take away the only chance of freedom I’ve ever had, the least you can do is grant asylum. I’ll live a beggar on your streets before I chance returning.”

He’s shaking, but Zoro sees determination in his eyes that he respects. “What’s so bad about it?” He asks. “Why do you think here would be better?” 

Sanji’s hands flex around a fallen coat. “I like to think you won’t keep me in a windowless dungeon for a decade,” he says.

“I’d imagine you may even allow me more than one meal a day.” 

Zoro stares at him, feeling uncomprehending. That can’t be right. 

“Sounds like you should marry him,” Luffy says from the bed. “That’s not a great life.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Zoro asks. He’s looming over Sanji. “As in, what did you do to deserve that?” 

Sanji blinks, then looks down, curling in on himself. “I was born of my mother’s blood,” he says. “He sees her in my eyes and he hates me for it.” 

There’s a strength in him. To have lived this long. Zoro sees that and something in him gives way. He doesn’t want it to, he doesn’t want this veritable stranger to have his respect, but— 

“Luffy,” he says. “Escort the Vinsmokes out of here.” 

Luffy gives a crooked salute that in no way resembles the way he should refer to the crown prince. “On it, boss.”

Sanji’s grip tightens around the clothes. “Please,” he chokes out, desperation rising. “Please, you won’t even— you don’t have to even officially accept my plea for asylum, if you just turn the other way so I can—“ 

“Shut up,” Zoro says, taking a step back and rubbing his face.

“Fucking hell of course I wasn’t referring to you.” Luffy’s already out the door or he’d make Luffy clarify. “He’s kicking all of THEM out, you’re obviously staying here.” 

“Oh…” Sanji trails off. “Th-thank you. I— I’ll take whatever position you deem acceptable. I’m an excellent chef, I can work in your kitchens! You’ll never know—“ 

Zoro, tired of this, reaches down and pulls Sanji out of the wardrobe. Suddenly upright, Sanji stumbles into his arms with a yelp. 

“Slow down,” Zoro grouses. “You wore me down. I’ll fucking marry you.”

“You’ll— what?” Sanji, whose hands are on Zoro’s shoulders and whose face is so very close to Zoro’s own, blinks. “WHY?” 

“Because your family seems like a fucking nightmare so I need to keep an eye on you,” Zoro says. He doesn’t say, and you’re strong. You survive.

He doesn’t say, your will to escape and to live makes me want to do everything to protect you. 

He doesn’t say that because that would make him sound idiotic and like Sanji needs saving. He’s clearly doing that on his own. 

Zoro’s just going to help him along.

He takes a step back and steadies Sanji. There’s the faint sound of shouting in the distance. Zoro grabs Sanji’s hand. “Luffy should be done soon,” he says. 

“Uh,” says Sanji. “Is he going to be okay…?” 

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine.” 

Zoro grabs Sanji’s hand. He squeezes it.

He says, “You seem like the type to care about wedding planning.” 

Sanji seems dazed. “Uh,” he says, wavering. “I have plans.” 

“Good. I don’t give a fuck. You can talk to Nami about them. Just tell me where to go and what to wear.” 

Sanji fishmouths at him. 

The door opens.

Luffy steps in. His shirt is a little torn and there’s leaves in his hair. “Vine Smackers are gone,” he says, giving his crooked salute to Zoro. Then he looks at Sanji. “You need me to beat up your family too?” 

“Luffy you dumbass,” Zoro says. “That WAS his family.”

“I don’t have a family,” Sanji corrects, voice small but gaining confidence. “I-if you’re willing to marry someone without a family, that is.” 

Zoro shrugs. “Suits me perfectly, actually. I didn’t want to be connected to that shitty country anyway.” 

Sanji laughs. “Me neither.”

“You’re both weird,” Luffy says. “I’m going to raid what’s left of the dinner that I assume isn’t going to happen now.” 

Then he’s gone again. 

Zoro’s still holding Sanji’s hand. 

Nami’s going to murder him. 

He raises up the hand and kisses Sanji’s knuckles. That sounds like a protocol thing, right? No one can make fun of him. 

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll introduce you to… everyone.” 

He pulls Sanji out of the room, gets lost in the hallways, then finds the ballroom again. 

Time to introduce his fiancé. 

He’s strong. Zoro will help him be strong.

[amongemeraldclouds]

make me

Minimal plot, just smut. You’re welcome.

When your rival grabs the potion ingredient that was meant for you, you’re willing to do what it takes to get it back.

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), v!fingering, degradation, praise, hate sex, characters are aged up.

✿ Masterlist | 2k words

You scan the near empty classroom as footsteps shuffle outside the hall. Your eyes narrow when you see Theodore Nott, your rival. He has been the bane of your existence ever since you got the top marks in your third year and effectively kicked his ranking down to number two.

It’s his rightful place you thought, but he sorely disagreed. Despite the devil may care attitude he’s known for, you know very well he can’t stand the idea that someone could be better and smarter than him. Well tough luck. You weren’t going to back down either.

He’s holding two vials of the potion ingredient you need. “The professor said one vial of Agrippa for each student!” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Ah you never know,” he sighs, holding the vial out in front of you. Taunting you. “I may get careless and accidentally drop one. Then I’ll have backup.”

“And what about me? You took mine, you tosser,” you huff.

“Did I now?” He says, looking confused as he continues to play with your vial. “Don’t see your name here though.” You fantasize reaching over and punching that smug expression off his face.  

You cross your arms instead, willing yourself to stay in control of your emotions. “Tsk tsk Theo. Never thought you’d have to stoop so low. Then again, it is you,” you roam your eyes over him from head to toe in disdain, shaking your head in disappointment. He’s absolutely gorgeous but you’ll never admit it.

“What, ridiculously handsome?” He quips, trying to mask his discomfort.

“You’re certainly ridiculous. And you’re insecure you’ll never beat me if you played fair. Poor Theo,” you reach up, trying to pat his head patronizingly. Instead he grabs your outstretched arm and looks down at you, leaning closer.

“I’m not,” he protests.

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to ignore his electric proximity, how beautiful he looks up close, your breaths sync together and noticeably more shallow. It will only take one small move for your lips to meet. “Could have fooled me. Give me the Agrippa and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m the one holding your arm,” he lifts an eyebrow, trying to assert his control over you.

“Then let me go,” you shoot back.

“Make me,” he challenges.

So you take that one small move, closing the distance between you and kissing him. His grip on your arm softens as he freezes in shock. You take this opportunity to yank your arm free, your mouth still on his. Just as you reach for the vial, he pulls you closer instead and wraps his arms around you, caging you in. Deepening the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for support.

Unwilling to lose against you, he kisses you back. It’s a clash of teeth and tongue, lips swelling with all the insults and comebacks you could throw at each other. Instead you say it in the way you suck his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. He counters with his tongue aggressively exploring your mouth.

You argue with the moans that escape your throat and his overwhelming need to devour you leads his mouth down your neck, trailing kisses and gently biting your soft flesh. Your head instinctively rolls back, giving him more access because as much as you hate him, you can’t deny just how good this feels.

Bodies pressed against each other, you feel his hard length twitch against you and can’t suppress the chuckle that escapes your lips. Before you can say something, your eye catches the vial he left on the table behind him. You reach out your hand and try to grab it again, but Theo catches on fast enough to turn both of you around in the opposite direction and place you on the desk.

“Not so fast,” he says panting as he stares at you, reflecting the lust in your eyes. “Make me cum and I’ll give you the Agrippa vial, fair and square just like you wanted.”

You scoff, “how is it fair?” He brings his lips close to your ear and says in a low voice, “because I also want you to cum for me, principessa.”

Fuck. Your breath catches in your throat.

Theo continues, “what? Afraid you can’t take me there?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you should worry about,” you retort, moving your hands to your blouse and unbuttoning it. 

Theo just smirks and helps with the last few buttons, he opens your blouse and takes a moment to stare at your breasts. “I’d say you’re beautiful, but you probably know that already,” he comments as he unclasps your bra and kisses your breasts gently. It’s so sweet and tender that for a moment you forget he’s your rival.

“Never hurts to hear it anyway,” you reply, trying not to shiver with just how sensitive and vulnerable you feel.

He smiles up at you while his hand continues exploring your breasts, squeezing and teasing, rolling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. “You’re wonderful, bella.”

You have to remind yourself you hate him despite your legs wrapped around him and your panties soaked for him. Then it didn’t matter as all thoughts left your mind when he runs his tongue across your nipple while he snakes his arm underneath your skirt, softly caressing your thighs.

He hums appreciatively when he feels just how wet you are. “Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but who would have known you’re such a slut.” You whimper at his words, too turned on and embarrassed to speak.

He makes quick work of slipping off your underwear as he explores your folds, spreading your slick all over, making sure to circle his thumb across your clit a few times. Desperate moans leave your lips, and he listens attentively, going back over the sensitive spots that made you louder.

He puts his hand on your mouth, silencing you. “Sshh wouldn’t want everyone to know just how much of a whore you are,” he says as he plunges two fingers into you, and you squirm against him in surprise.

He chuckles as he pumps his fingers in and out, building pressure in the base of your stomach. “So needy, I bet you like touching your cunt too, huh? Such a dirty little slut when no one’s looking.” His voice rumbles deep in his throat and you feel your arousal drip all over his hand.

You clench against his fingers as they curl against you, hitting your g spot, coaxing strings of curses out of you. As he continues to relentlessly thrust his fingers into your dripping cunt, he sucks on your ear lobe and you shudder against him. Everything feels so good, it’s almost too much until he rubs his finger against your clit and light bursts behind your eyes.

You find yourself writhing against him as wave after wave of ecstasy overtakes you. He brushes lazy kisses on your neck, guiding you through your climax and bringing you back down. Panting, you gaze at him through hazy eyes, “not bad, Theo.”

“Come on, don’t forget your end of the bargain,” he commands.

“Oh, I would never,” you smirk and lift yourself up from the table, getting down on your knees. He grunts, removing his belt and zipping down his trousers. You help him free his hard length and you take his cock with your hand, stroking it.

You stare up at Theo through your eyelashes, “is this what you always wanted? I bet you’ve thought about stuffing your cock down my throat, shutting me up. Can’t handle that I’m better than you? Smarter than you?”

Infuriated by your words, he fists his hand through your hair and removes your hand, shoving his cock in your mouth. You take him in, amazed by just how thick he is. “Yeah, that shut you up. Got nothing to say now, huh?” he taunts, thrusting in and out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin.

“You’re just a pathetic slut, taking my cock so well. Look at you kneeling for me.” He holds your head in place, his grip tight on your hair as he continues thrusting into your mouth hard enough to make your eyes water. You can’t help the liquid heat pooling in your cunt and you squeeze your thighs together to get some relief from the aching need to have him inside you.

Theo notices you squirming and pulls out of your mouth, giving you a second to recover your breath. “Seems the hungry slut wants more, huh?” He says, running his thumb across your puffy lips.

He grips your arm and supports you as you stand up. He brushes your hair away from your face and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “you’re doing so well, principessa.” Before the words can sink in, he’s already turning you away from him and bending you over the table as you support yourself with your arms.

He places one of his hand beside yours as the other reaches up to squeeze your breast. He feels so warm and electric against you, you can feel the shortness in his breath in anticipation.

He rubs his cock against your slit, teasing and coating his tip with your arousal. You remind yourself to breathe as you imagine just how good he will feel inside you. With one quick thrust, he enters you and you cry out. “Don’t worry, we’ll start slow,” he says as he moves gently, giving you time to adjust against his big, hard length. 

You whimper but don’t want his already inflated ego to grow further so you say, “is that all you got?”

You should have braced yourself when you said those words as he snickers, “oh you’re going to regret that.” He shoves himself back into you and you feel him bottom out. Salazar, he is stretching you so well.

Desperate, filthy moans escape your lips as he continues ramming himself into you, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure as the delicious friction sets your body on fire. “Not so much better than me now, huh?” He taunts, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back so he can look into your eyes while he fucks you mercilessly. “That’s right, look at me while I shove my cock inside your slippery wet cunt. Fuck, so needy.” You whimper against him, too cock drunk to speak.

“Take it all,” he says, punctuating each word with a deep, hard thrust. Your pussy growing more and more sensitive with each movement. You feel the euphoric pressure building in the base of your stomach once again as you grip onto the table, wood splintering into your skin as try to hold it together.

“Fuck, so desperate for my cock. Tell me you like it or I’ll stop,” he taunts as he feels you grow tighter against him, nearing your release. Your mind can barely keep up, but you sober quite quickly when he stops. “No, please,” you whisper.

“Please what?” Theo asks, looking into your eyes.

“Please fuck me, I love having your cock inside me,” you say, too eager to care about your rivalry.

“Good girl,” he praises as he continues his fast, persistent pace. “I bet you always fantasized having my cock buried inside you, huh? You pretend you’re so much better than me when all you are is a dirty little slut.”

You cry out and his words send you writhing against him again. Your walls clench around him over and over as euphoric waves overtake your senses. He continues his relentless pace, riding out your climax until you feel his warm release inside you. 

He wraps his arms around you as you both recover your breath. “You were so good principessa,” he whispers.

“Listen because I’ll only say this once,” you start and turn yourself. Theo releases you from the embrace so you can face him, “you were amazing.” You smile at him and for a moment, you can almost see yourselves as something other than rivals. Almost.

You grab your clothes and start putting them back on, the spell of the moment over. “You better not tell anyone about this,” Theo warns, trying to brush off the warmth in his chest. 

“And ruin my reputation? No thanks,” You rush over everything, buttoning your blouse as fast as you can. You smirk when you finish before Theo and grab both Agrippa vials, making a run for it.

“Hey!” Theo calls out as he rushes putting his belt back on.

“Guess you’ll just have to come find me,” you shrug, leaving him alone in the classroom. You’ll be seeing him again soon enough anyway.

✿ Masterlist

[gallavichsreddie1128]

You still want me? (Patrick Zweig)

Description: Even after 13 years Patrick still wants her.

Warning: Smut

Word Count:2,288k

Y/N laughed at Patrick’s pathetic attempts to sleep with her. He tried every second he could. Art was always weirded out by it and gave him a look. Sure, Y/N was hot but she wasn’t an object for sex and that’s what Art thought that Patrick thought of her. Y/N rolled her eyes as they sat in their hotel room drinking. “Patrick, that was weak.” “Yeah, really.” Patrick glared at his best friend, “Like you could do better?” He asked, Art nodded. “I very well could but I have a girlfriend that I love so.” Patrick flipped him off and turned back to Y/N, “So where were we?” She laughed at his question. “You were trying to fuck me, I am trying to relax.” “Well I could help you relax more.” 

These weak attempts to sleep with her went on for years. Art and Tashi rolled their eyes as he said anything and everything he could to convince her. She never said No but she never said yes either. She ended up going to a different college than Art and Tashi and since Patrick didn’t go to college he never saw her. It wouldn’t be until Patrick and Art were in the challengers that he would see her again. Tashi invited her as a surprise. Sure Art and Patrick were facing one another but they were still friends.

And Tashi knew how bad Patrick wanted her. Y/N was still super hot and even more mature now that 10 years have gone by. Y/N walked through the doors of the hotel that Tashi sent her. It was a nice one, a very nice one. She looked around and saw Tashi by the elevator. She gasped and waved as Tashi waved back just as excited. Y/N ran over to her and gave her a big hug, “Oh I missed you.” “I missed you too.” After their little moment they got in the elevator. “So how’s everything been?” Tashi asked. Y/N smiled and looked at her, “Pretty good.” “Have a boyfriend?” Y/N laughed at the question and shook her head No.

Tashi thought that was perfect especially for Patrick. As the exited the elevator to her room Y/N asked her, “So does he still talk about me?” Referring to Patrick. Tashi smiled, “Here and there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Y/N smiled at the thought. She kinda missed all his horrible ways of trying to sleep with her. “They are currently practicing. Settle in some and we will go down there.” Tashi said. 

They walked to the court were the two boys or now men practiced. Y/N smiled as Art came into view. He still looked the same, just shorter hair and more muscle. She then saw Patrick and dear god she couldn’t believe it. He had facial hair now and damn did he look good. Tashi and Y/N stood by the seats watching them. They hadn’t noticed that they were watching them until Tashi cheered, “Go Art!” “Go Patrick!” Y/N yelled and Patrick looked over at her and froze. “Y/N?” He whispered in shock. Y/N waved at him, he totally missed the ball and Art would have gotten the point. Art looked over and smiled at Y/N.

They both walked over to the ladies, “What are you doing here?” He asked, so happy to see her. “I came to watch you guys play.” He smiled at her words. “You two should catch up, Art and I are going to go.” Tashi said, dragging Art away. That was her plan the entire time. Get them alone and see where it goes. “So you wanna go over to the bar and catch up?” He asked. She nodded and smiled. 

“So this is what you’ve been up to all these years?” She asked, he nodded. “Yup. Just Tennis.” “Sounds awesome. Art and you against each other? That’s going to be crazy.” She said, “ Yeah but you’ll be rooting for me.” He joked. She laughed and sat her drink down. “Maybe. How would your girlfriend feel about that?” He chuckled, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Her jaw dropped. “What?” He asked, she shook her head. “You look like that and you don’t have a girlfriend?” “Look like what?” “Hot.” She motioned to him.

“You look hot.” God his younger self would be freaking out right now. Who was he kidding? He was freaking out now. “You think I'm hot?” He asked, scooting closer to her. “You’ve always been hot.” She said, looking at him. “Then how come you never slept with me?” He asked. She shrugged, “You just didn't have game.” She laughed. “What if I have game now?” She picked up her drink and took a sip of it without breaking eye contact. “You still want me? After all these years?” She asked. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. A change of heart was never in my plans.” She turned to him, “Then I guess I’d have to sleep with you Patrick.” She said softly. 

He walked her back to her hotel room that Tashi gladly paid for. She turned towards the man and smiled, “This is me.” She said and he chuckled. He turned towards her, “Just like old times, eh?” She laughed and shook her head. He always used to walk her to her room and then try to sleep with her as if he wasn’t already on the way to the room. “Pretty much.” He looked down and Y/N’s face dropped.

He hadn’t tried to sleep with her yet and it bugged her. She actually would right now. “Patrick.” She whispered. He looked up at her. “Come inside.” She told him. As soon as she got the door open he picked her up and turned her around, making her gasp. He pinned her up against the door. She stared at him wide eyed as he stared back. Her breathing started to pick up, her heart started beating. He leaned in slowly causing her eyes to wander towards his lips until they touched hers.

She kissed back and it felt amazing. Her hands wrapped themselves around his head and laced through his hair. He deepened the kiss, pushing her more against the door. Their lips moved against each other until the air ran out of their lungs. But even then when he pulled away her lips followed wanting more of the kiss. “Patrick, please.” She whispered. He smirked, happy that he finally had her right where he wanted. Her legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer to her. He chuckled and kissed her again.

He moved her away from the door and on the bed. They broke apart from the kiss again, this time to remove clothes. It was like they couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough. He pushed her down on the bed once they were bare. She fell back and looked up at him. He smirked as he ran his fingers up her legs to her thighs. Her breathing picked up as he neared her pussy. He decided to tease her and not touch her where she wants, no needs him. “Patrick, don't tease me.” She whined. “Oh I can’t tease you but you’ve been teasing me for the past 10 years?” He asked with a fake pout. She huffed out as he smirked.

That damn smirk, it was so sexy and perfect. He finally dragged a finger up her slit, causing her to moan. “Oh that sound was perfect.” He said and did it again. She moaned again. He decided that he wanted to hear more of her moans so he stopped teasing her and began rubbing her clit. The sweet moans fell from her lips as he toyed with her. Her hips lifting up trying to get more of his touch. He chuckled as he watched her do so. He got on his knees and decided he wanted to taste her. She felt his breath on her pussy making her lean up on her elbows to see what he was doing. He gave her his famous smirk before he gave her slit a big lick.

She gasped at the feeling of his tongue on her and that encouraged him to continue. Her hands laced through his hair as he ate her out. He was really good at it but he’s been with so many women so that didn’t surprise her. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven. This was his dream and it was coming true. “You taste so fucking good. Better than anything i’ve ever had.” He groaned. Her whines and moans got louder as the vibrations of his words went to her core. “Patrick.” She moaned loudly. He loved the sound of her voice especially with his name falling from her lips. When she came, it was a lot and all over his face. He lapped it up like a puppy dog.

She had to push his face away from how sensitive she was getting. Once she calmed herself from her orgasm she opened her eyes to see the man with a smirk and his face wet from her juices. She leaned up to his face and kissed him, moaning at the taste on his lips. His beard was wet with her but he didn’t mind one bit. Without breaking the kiss he crawled over her and hooked one of her legs over his hip. She gasped against his lips as she felt his dick run up against her clit. “I want you to beg for me to be inside of you like all those years I begged to be inside of you.” He said against her lips before moving down to her neck. She moaned lightly as he sucked on her. Her breathing is still not steady from her orgasm.

“Patrick please I want you inside of me.” She said, he hummed against her and pulled away. “I said beg not tell me.” He told her. She whined at the need for him to be inside of her. “Please Patrick, I want your big dick inside of me.” She begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “You can do better than that. Even I did.” She wanted to roll her eyes but held that back to beg him once again. Once again it just didn’t work causing him to laugh. Of course he wanted to be inside of her but he wanted her to want him just as much as he wanted her. “Patrick I want you inside of me so bad. I need it. I’ve always needed it ever since I've met you. Patrick please.” She whined. “Perfect.” He said before pushing inside of her. She moaned loudly. He was big, bigger than any other guy she’s been with. He cupped her face, “You feel fucking amazing baby. I’m right where I belong.” He tells her as he starts thrusting.

His words and praises made her wetter. So wet that you could hear it. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of this moment. That was a mistake because the second he closed his eyes she flipped them over and now she was on top riding him. He let out a moan as he saw her tits bouncing. “So you wanted me to beg just for you to fuck me like that?” She asked. “I wanted you to fuck me Patrick, fuck me like you’ve waited 10 years for this pussy.” She said. “I have.” He groaned out. Her on top actually made this a lot better for him. He leaned up and shoved his face in her tits and she rode him.

Both of them making their own noises of pleasure. The feeling of his beard on her nipple tickled but she loved it. Her hands moved to his head to hold him there. She threw her head back and enjoyed the moment. It wasn’t that much time before she was clenching around him like crazy. He pulled away from her tits to look at her face. She opened her eyes to look at him. “Are you close?” He asked through a groan. She nodded and whined. “Yes.” “I want to watch you fall apart.” He told her. She whined at his words and her breathing picked up. She was so close to the edge.

He leaned back and laid down as he watched her fall apart. Her jaw dropped and she cried out cries of his name as he felt her drench his cock. Her eyes rolled back and her hips stuttered. She looked so fucked out and so beautiful. “Fuck.” He breathed out. She was still riding him, helping him reach his orgasm. He wasn’t a noisy guy during sex but she was making it hard. “Why are you holding back? You sound hot Patrick.” She told him, running her fingers down his chest. He started twitching inside of her. “Give it to me Patrick. Let go for me.” She said and he did what she told him to. He whined her name as he came inside of her.

She let him ride out his orgasm before she collapsed next to him. Both of them panting and sweating. He chuckled and looked over at her, “What’s so funny?” She asked. “I just fucked my dream girl.” “Well she fucked you.” Y/N pointed out. “Either way.” She turned towards him and smiled. “So now that you’ve fucked your dream girl, what’s next?” He pulled her closer, “I plan to wife her up.” He said and she smiled. “Your dream girl could get down with that.” She said to him with a laugh. He leaned in and kissed her, remembering to thank Tashi later for this experience. 

[dark-frosted-heart]

The Owl’s Sweet Judgment - Matias

An “If you were lovers” story. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

If Prince Matias and I were lovers…

Matias: So this is your home…

After having a fun date with him while he visited Rhodolite, I dragged Prince Matias to my house.

While he was distracted by my room, I locked the door and peeked out the window.

(No one’s following us. That’s good…)

Matias: A woman’s room should smell nice. ……Ahhhh, it’s better than I imagined.

(Just what were you imagining…You know what, let’s not think about that)

Emma: Since you’re here, I’ll go prepare some tea.

Matias: I’ll help.

Emma: No, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who dragged you to my home.

Matias: I see... Then I’ll take you up on the offer.

Even though I was treating him, Prince Matias followed me to the kitchen.

It was like he didn’t even think about making himself at home, and his earnestness had me smiling.

Emma: As you might expect, this is rose tea.

Matias: Rhodolite even uses roses for tea? You’re very consistent.

Emma: We’re the Country of Roses. It’s delicious.

(I’ve never seen it in Achroite so I’m sure this is the first time Prince Matias has been offered this drink)

After retrieving the tea set from the shelf, I started preparing the tea.

Meanwhile, Prince Matias just stood and watched.

Emma: …Isn’t this boring?

Matias: Not at all.Your every movement has my interest. Moreover, should you spill the tea and stain your clothes, I’ll need to take action. Or perhaps you’ll need my help retrieving equipment from a high place. I’ve fantasized about such situations happening and I’m confident in my ability to deal with those incidents.

Emma: That’s promising.

(...Just how many ideas unfold in Prince Matias’ mind?)

There were 100 questions I could’ve asked, but I kept them to myself.

Matias: By the way, why did you invite me to your home? That wasn’t part of our plans…

Emma: I’m sorry…There wasn’t a particular reason, I just suddenly felt like wanting you all to myself.

Matias: You always have me. I only have eyes for you.

Emma: I don’t want to get too greedy.

(Prince Matias really hasn’t noticed)

While we were walking around town, all the women we passed by would turn and look at Prince Matias.

They were like butterflies lured by sweet nectar—

It seemed like the tremendous amount of charm Prince Matias unconsciously gave off affected women left and right. 

(I had no choice but to escape because his charm was turned up more than usual)

I didn’t want other women to share the same experience of having my heart race and body heating up, and feeling charmed just by being around him.

That selfish pettiness what brought us to our current situation.

(...I lied, but I don’t want him to know my true feelings)

Matias: …Sorry.

I took out the necessary amount of tea leaves and was about to put the jar back on the shelf when Prince Matias, who was standing beside me, grabbed my hand.

Matias: I always thought I was focusing my efforts on conveying my love, but… I guess I haven’t been doing enough to make you greedy for me.

Matias pressed his lips on the back of my hand and his sex appeal was unleashed with a bang.

(And here I was thinking about going outside again when this overflowing sex appeal settled down)

He nipped at my index finger and the charm increased in proportion to my racing heartbeat.

(This is dangerous…Very dangerous!)

Emma: Prince Matias, you show your love well…Really well.

Matias: Is that so? I was considering unleashing the rest.

(The rest?! This wasn’t all?!)

Emma: Don’t do that or I’ll die!

Matias: Wha…You’ll die?!

Emma: That’s right, people die when they get too excited!

(I haven’t actually heard about that being a cause of death, but…!)\

It wasn’t a lie, and it could happen if Prince Matias’s villainous sex appeal grew stronger.

Matias: Is that so? I wasn’t aware. I need to show how I love you without making you worry…That’s truly a challenge.

(I’m sorry, Prince Matias)

Instead of apologizing, I wrapped my arms around Prince Matias’ waist and hugged him.

Since he was a former soldier, it was obvious his body was well-trained, even with all those clothes.

Matias: Can I hug you back?

Emma: Of course.

When I nodded, Prince Matias gently wrapped his arm around me as if holding a fragile item.

Matias: You’re still so small… But I think you’re hiding something in this small body of yours.

Emma: Huh?

Matias: What exactly are you hiding?

Emma: I’m not h-hiding anything—

As I looked away, Prince Matias played with my hair.

Matias: Since we entered your house, you’ve been acting suspicious and haven’t stopped looking around. That’s usually how liars react.

Emma: …

Matias: If you’ve been lying in any way, then you’d be guilty of fraud. Are you really not hiding anything from me?

He placed kisses on the ends of my hair and I got dizzy from the sensuality that reaped my sanity.

(It’s not good…I can’t hide it)

(I wasn’t planning on saying anything…)

Emma: …I really want to have you all to myself. I couldn’t stand the suggestive looks you got from the people we passed by…

Matias: That happened?

Emma: It did.

Matias: Is that so? I didn’t notice. I was only looking at you.

(This guy…)

Matias: No wonder you’ve been acting strange the whole day.

Emma: …Are you disgusted?

Matias: Why would I?

Emma: I thought I was acting petty…

Matias: Really? If you call that being petty then I’d like you to be more petty. So much that there’s no place for anyone but me.

Emma: Prince Matias…

It was like that sincere smile before me saved me.

Matias: …However, fraud is fraud.

Emma: Huh?

Matias: You lied by hiding your true feelings, didn’t you? I’m the Guardian of Law…Therefore I need to punish you impartially.

Sweet, dewy eyes the color of shadow on snow, completely different from those aimed at criminals, approached and I closed my eyes.

The sensation of the savory kiss and feeling of his palms caressing my waist added on to the suffocating charm.

(...I’m going to melt like ice)

Matias held me up as I was about to collapse.

The wet sensation on my lips raised my body heat a bit more.

Emma: It’s a punishment…but it’s very sweet.

Matias: You’re special.

(Ah…I’m feeling more intolerant)

(With Prince Matias, there’s no limits…)

It doesn’t seem like we’ll be leaving my house any time soon because of the Guardian of Law’s sweet judgment.

[tarotbydelilah444]

a love letter from your mother to you

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, aunties, and new mothers around the world. You are loved and appreciated for all that you do from being a strong woman to being a mother to all, and you do it all with beauty & grace. Thank you for all that you do and that you continue to do. We love you! This message is to meant to apply to everyone, no matter who raised you, or you consider as your “mother.”

pile one • 💐

dearest one, my life was complicated and a mess when you came into my life. I went through a lot of changes when I found out about your existence. I had to come to terms with some harsh realities and learn from my many many mistakes in order to be the best parent that I could be for you, and it wasn’t always easy as I made it seem. You made me a better person. You gave me a second chance to do the right thing when everybody doubted me, and for that, I am eternally grateful for your existence in my life. You taught me valuable lessons and things I never knew that I was capable of. You taught me how to be a mature, patient, humble, and selfless human being and mother. Although I endured a lot of challenges when you came into the world, I do not regret a single thing, and given the chance, I would do it all over again. I am so proud of you and everything you have manage to accomplish in your life. Everybody knows how proud I am of you, and if it was possible I would scream to the top of my lungs, so that the entire world knows how proud you have made me as a parent. Baby, I want you to know that I will always be there to support you whenever you need me, you can always count on me when no one else is there, so don’t hesitate to lean on me when you aren’t feeling too strong. My favorite thing about you is your ability to rise above adversity. You are so resilient and you never allow anything or anyone to keep you down for too long. You just dust yourself off, get back up, and try again and again until you reach the stars. Now at times, you can be a bit of a perfectionist and way too hard on yourself, and I want you to know that it is okay to take a step back and give yourself grace because everyone needs a break every once in a while. Remember that Rome wasn’t built in a day. You are still the best in my eyes, no matter what anyone says or does. My precious child, the best trait that you inherited from me was your drive and determination to go after your dreams & aspirations. I’ve always known since the day you were born that you were going to do amazing things and be more successful than I ever was. You are truly the best parts of myself, and you are everything I could possibly ask for. I am so proud to be your mother.

sincerely

- your mama

pile two • 🌷 my sweet precious baby, I was so excited when you came into the world. I have always dreamt about how my family would look one day and I always dreamt of your precious face and how much love I would shower you in. You brought so much joy and happiness into my life at a time when I really needed it. Before you were born, I struggled to find purpose and balance in my life. I was constantly juggling my passions in one hand, and my priorities in the other. When you arrived, I immediately felt that you were not only my purpose, but my reason. I knew right away that I needed to make some changes in my life and do things that would make me happy. Your birth taught me how to give myself grace and how to take joy in the little things and never take anything for granted. You are my muse, my inspiration, and my pride and joy. I love you with all my heart and soul. Do you know what I absolutely love about you? I absolutely love your generosity. You have such a big heart and you are always willing to help out anyone that you see, but sometimes, I do wish that you be more careful and aware that not everyone has good intentions, or want the best for you. I also want you to be more comfortable in saying “no” to others instead of always trying to please others. You cannot pour from a empty cup, my dear. I love that you are so determined and goal driven. You never have to be forced nor told to get up and go after what you want in life, and for that I commend you for that. You are not one to accept losses because you understand that life presents challenges and you won’t always win every single battle, but you learn and accept the lessons that have been given to you with each challenging task, which in my opinion, makes you the strongest person I know. Last but certainly not least, I am grateful that you inherited my intelligence and curiosity for all things in life. You can be a bit of a overthinker and tend to worry over the littlest things, but I want you to know that everything is going to work out just fine, and there is no need to worry about every little thing, just enjoy this ride called “life”. I adore that you don’t follow the crowd and that you march to the beat of your own drum. You weren’t created to fit in, but pave your own path, no matter what anyone says, they are just intimidated by your uniqueness. Don’t ever try to fit into anyone box, and continue to be true to yourself. your truly, - your mama

pile three • 💐

my miracle child, you have no idea how much I am grateful for your presence in my life. You are everything that I could’ve ever imagined and I am beyond honored that you chose me to be your mommy. I prayed so many times for your arrival and I promised that I would always shower you in so much love since the day you came into my life. When I found out about you, I cried and jumped for joy because there were so many people that told me that I wouldn’t become a mother, but I never listened nor did I give up the fight. I pleaded and prayed to the Lord that he would bless my womb and heart with your beautiful soul, and he listened and delivered such a beautiful and wonderful human being. You are my best and greatest achievement in my life, and nothing could ever compare with you. I made a vow to God, that I would always love and treasure you for the rest of my life. I love you with every fiber of myself. I love that you are such a passionate and creative person. Your optimism is so inspiring and refreshing. I absolutely adore that you have such a zest for life, please don’t ever lose it even when life presents its challenges. Your smile and laughter brings me so much bliss and happiness. You manage to bring a smile to my face, even when I am going through a rough time, and for that I am eternally thankful. You are truly my best friend and I am so in love with being your mama. I am so happy that I have been blessed to watch your growth and be apart of every single stage. I am so proud of the person you have become today and you are the greatest child and best friend I could have possibly asked for. I am so glad that you inherited my perseverance. Your ability to keep going despite there being obstacles and difficulties in your path. Your resilience is admirable and you handle your challenges with so much grace. I’ve always known since you were meant for greatness and that you would accomplish so much life. My angel, I truly admire your independence, grit, intelligence, reliability, and nurturing spirit. with all my love, - your mama

[skunabby]

Match Made in Hell

Part 1 - Freedom

rockstar fem!reader x tattoo artist!sukuna au (no actual curses)

Warnings: - ! 21+ MDNI ! - all characters are 21+: alcohol use, cussing, violence, size difference, suggestiveness. This chapter is tame, others in the series will not be 🙂‍↕️

Synopsis - You're the front woman for an all female metal band, Afflictions of the Cursed, celebrating your new record deal and enjoying a moment of freedom before kicking off your first international tour. As you and your best friend and bandmate, Yuki, do your best to be inconspicuous and enjoy a concert just for fun before your tour, you meet a hunk of a tattoo artist, who happens to know exactly who you are, and leaves you yearning for more.

Wc: 2.8K

~~~

It felt like it’s been way too long since you got the chance to attend a concert just for fun. It’s been five and a half years, to be exact. Ever since the record label signed your band, Afflictions of the Cursed, a couple months back, you’ve had a lot more free time to do the things you love, rather than spending countless hours, sometimes days, in your studio writing, recording and sound editing for the band. It was exhausting, day after day working on becoming a successful, all female metal band. Not to say that the metal scene hasn’t become progressive, but it was definitely a challenge to say the least. The day after your contract was signed, you slept for over 12 hours straight, finally feeling the weight of being an indie band fall off your shoulders for the first time in ages. With the new record deal came a new album to celebrate, set to release in two weeks, and kicking off the band’s very first international tour in two months. All your hard work and dedication as a team, finally starting to show. As your preparation for the tour has been completed, you all had time to unwind completely and enjoy your last two months of freedom before touring for another eight months. And what better way to kick back and relax than by seeing some of your idols play without an obligation to perform. The bands that inspired you to become who you are today.

Today, you get to see your all time favorite band, the one and only Lamb of God. Though you were excited and usually went the extra mile in your outfit choices, being famous came with some drawbacks. The main one being that you had to be more inconspicuous in your appearance. Your long dark hair was pulled up into two messy buns on either side of your head, that were already starting to fall out because Yuki wouldn’t stop screwing with them when you two were getting ready today, heavily secured with bobby pins. You pondered over the thought of wearing your signature makeup look for some time but you were certain someone was bound to recognize you and you didn’t want to spend your first concert in years signing autographs. So instead, you’d opted for a more minimal makeup look, simple winged eyeliner, your thin, sharp brows accentuating your high arches in an attempt to look as unapproachable as possible, and a black lip ring in the center of your bottom lip, tipped with spiky ends. Cute but simple.

You wore your favorite Lamb of God shirt that you’d cut into a baggy crop top when you were in high school, frayed and fragmented from consistent abuse over the many years and many shows you’ve worn it to. Your shorts were impossibly short and a little too tight, getting sucked up into areas that made you uncomfortable when you sat down, complimented by a tight pair of black thigh highs that dug into your plump thighs at the top, in an attempt to keep them from falling down throughout the night, the tattooed images on your skin peeking through in various areas.

But the highlight of your outfit, in your opinion, was your favorite platform leather boots, tattered and scarred with stitches and adorned with studs and chains that you had carefully altered yourself before your very first show. The ones you’ve had to fix time and time again after many performances spent jumping around in them until they split at the seams. The ones you and your bandmates had nicknamed your ‘Shit Kickers’, the name never failing to make you giggle upon reminiscing in the day you used them to boot some creep square in the back after he snuck into your dressing room backstage a couple of years ago, leaving a bruise in the shape of your boot print that he tried to sue you for later and very quickly lost. If anyone was going to recognize you tonight, it would be because of these damn boots but you couldn’t let yourself attend a show without them. It just didn’t feel right.

Most of the band elected not to come with you, the only exception being Yuki, as she wouldn’t let you go alone, in case anyone were to recognize you. Another perk to that being that since you two were roommates, you’d only have to take one car. She was always such a good friend to you, even when you were kids growing up together. Your childhoods spent daydreaming of your band, watching your years of wishing become a reality. She was always there to protect you, mostly from yourself since you’ve always had quite a temper and a bad habit for picking fights. She knew you didn’t need saving when it came to combat. If anything, she would have to hold you back once the fight was won to keep you from going too far. Yet another reason she wouldn’t let you go to a metal show by yourself.

As you stood in the line to admittance, you and Yuki casually converse, doing your best to tiptoe around mentions of the band in an effort to avoid suspicion and recognition. Laughing and snorting over something that happened during recording a couple weeks ago where everyone was stressed out and you’d acted like a dinosaur, stomping around the room and smacking everyone with T-Rex arms to lighten the tension. You and Yuki had pre-gamed before showing up to the show and were a little tipsy to say the least. As Yuki acted out your movements for you, leaning towards you to smack you with her dangly forearms, she accidentally tripped and pushed you into the person in front of you in line. 

“Hey! Watch it, you fu-”

The brooding man turns to face you, his crimson eyes and tattooed face staring down at you as he towers over your small frame, watching as his expression shifts from one fueled by anger to one more gentle, almost coveting.

 “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.. to..”

You peer up at the ripped, tattooed man standing before you, awestruck at his sheer size both in height and muscle mass. Even in your platform boots that add 4 inches to your height, he towered over you by another solid 4 inches. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his presence, which didn’t happen too often for you. You liked to consider yourself a tougher woman, despite your silly demeanor and size, often picking fights with people much larger than you for the sheer satisfaction you’d receive in their defeat against a woman of your stature.

Despite that, you felt overwhelmed by him as he stood there staring straight into your soul. You try to look him up and down discreetly. His spiky pink hair looked so soft to the touch, his brown roots peaking through, especially around the buzz cut sides of his head. Images of skulls and demons danced around his veiny muscular arms, black tribal markings encompassing his wrists and upper arms, just under his massive shoulder muscles, two black circles atop each shoulder cap and more tribal markings trailing down his traps and up his throat, all shown off by his ragged tank top. Possibly the most attractive tattoos were the ones that adorned his face. Wrapping his strong jawline and up his chin, a thin black line across the bridge of his nose and a second pair of crimson eyes under the first, only adding to his stern allure. 

‘How interesting.'

To make matters worse, for you that is, he had muscles on top of muscles, some that you didn’t even know existed, making you wonder what he would be capable of. He could lift you up with just his finger without breaking a sweat. You can’t help but gulp at the thought of a man that could swiftly beat you in a fight standing here in front of you. You return your gaze to his face to see him fiddling with one of the piercings on the left side of his bottom lip as he eyes hungrily snaked up and down your body, stopping in several places where glimpses of your tattoos peaked out. You locked eyes for just a moment, both of you realizing that you were silently staring for far too long. You feel your cheeks start to get hot, embarrassed that you’ve been caught checking him out, but taking a little bit of pride in knowing he was doing the same to you.

A slight grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s impolite to stare?”

You raise a brow and shift your expression ludically, playfully defending yourself.

“Yes, but in my defense, I was only returning the favor.” your remark eliciting a small chuckle from him, eying you with slight fascination, as he slowly turns forward again. 

“Are ya gonna ask for his number or what?” Yuki stares at you, craning herself until she’s mere inches from your face with wide eyes. She thinks she’s whispering, but she’s already slightly drunk so her whisper was nearing more of a breathy shout. You roll your eyes, but you already feel a growing inclination to get to know him. You shove her shoulder lightly, her inebriated demeanor showing even more as she stumbles from the smallest shove, giggling and hiccupping. 

“Shut up! He can hear you!” You turn away from her to find his gaze fixated on you once again, the same coy little grin across his face, making your cheeks flush again, even more embarrassed than before. You watch as he turns fully to face you, outstretching his hand before introducing himself. His long tattooed fingers beckoning for yours to greet them.

“I have a name, y’know. I’m Sukuna. And who might you be, sweetheart?” His voice much lower this time, a sultry baritone that already has you gushing to hear more. You tremble slightly as you reach out, your small hand juxtaposed in his large fingers, trying desperately to avoid accidentally gripping his hand too hard, inadvertently digging your freshly clawed fingernails into his flesh. 

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you Sukuna.” Your heart threatens to stop as he brings his lips to meet your hand with a gentle kiss, gazing into your eyes with hidden desire. You’re already so entranced by him, curiously staring back, trying to figure out if his eyes are this deep shade of red naturally or if they’re just contacts.

“Nice to meet you (y/n). This is my friend Toji.” He elbows him to get his attention.

“Huh? Oh, well look at you, all dressed up for a night on the town. I’d ask who you’re most excited to see tonight, but your shirt kinda gives that away.” You giggle respectfully. He was equal in stature to Sukuna, muscular as well, but his waist slightly thinner. His black t-shirt hugged against his skin, revealing his toned physique beneath, scars scattered in various places along his arms. Though he was friendly, he just smiled awkwardly at your laughing and stood facing towards you and Yuki, politely standing by for a new conversation. Not that you mind, talking to Sukuna was starting to become the highlight of your evening. 

Speaking of Yuki, just as your open your mouth to speak, she drunkenly hiccups her way back into the conversation, much louder than you’re sure she intended to be,

“Hi! I’m Yuki, by the way. Dang you’re cuuuute! Say more words, broody man. What’s your type?” You elbow her slightly, watching as she snickers, very clearly just trying to torment you the way a best friend does as she turns to talk to Toji, leaving you room to continue your conversation with Sukuna. 

“Ignore her, she can be obnoxious when she’s drunk.” shooting a small glare in her direction.

“I know the feeling.” Tipping his head in Toji’s direction. Toji narrows his eyes at Sukuna slightly, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that.” You sigh in relief and he smiles more genuinely, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the sight of such a stern man gifting you with a pleasant grin.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?” his compliment makes your heart stutter, pretty certain your composure has long disappeared at this point. 

“Well, I’ve been super busy with, uhh, life lately. This is the first show I’ve gotten to attend in a while. I used to never miss a Lamb of God show, but, well, life happens.” you giggle as he smiles for you once again, hoping he didn’t notice your awkward attempt to dance around your alter ego.

‘Pull yourself together, you look ridiculous. You don’t even know this guy.’ 

“And how many years worth of their shows was that for you, exactly?” Sly but smart. You can respect him trying to make sure you’re legal. You can already see him working through his mental arithmetic before you even answer. You cross your arms in an attempt to look stern, a small pouty smile on your lips.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask a lady her age?” He laughs at your remark this time, a deep, booming sound that’s infectious and makes you crave to hear it again. You watch his sly smile return as he gradually looks you over before - 

“You have the tickets, right?” Toji’s voice snaps you both back to reality, realizing that you’ve reached the front of the line. You both quickly fumble around looking for your tickets to hand to the attendant. When retrieving your wallet from your bag, you watch him peer over your shoulder as you pull out your ID. 

“I’m of legal drinkin’ age, punk.” Your snicker, sticking your tongue out at him in playful jest. He chuckles “Nah, I was looking at your name, actually. I thought you looked familiar, ‘Queen of Curses’.” You freeze. Shit. He knows who you are. “I’m a big fan of Afflictions of the Cursed, actually. Never thought I’d -” 

“SSHHH please, shut up. Someone might hear you. Please, I just want to enjoy a show without a swarm of fans.” He chuckles mischievously, a sound that floods your body with fear, and maybe a touch of desire as well, but you can’t let him be too loud and potentially ruin your night out. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t share your secret. I’ll just ask for your autograph later, or something. But I might need to find you later to do that.” He winks at you, his sly smirk doesn't help you to calm your anxiety. He hands you his phone, already open to enter a new contact, turning back to the attendant to pass them his ticket and ID, trading for his wristband, not giving you the chance to retort.

Damn, that was smooth. Not that you’d complain, he was hot and boy did he know it. You enter your number, along with a contact name that he surely won’t forget, and certainly not “Queen of Curses”, handing him back his phone with a wily grin. “(y/n) 😈👅” he laughs yet again, that same chuckle that sends you reeling.

“Well then. I’ll see you in there, sweetheart.” You nod, trying to hold back your worry and excitement as Sukuna disappears into the darkened entrance with Toji in tow. As you follow suit, bright orange wristband loosely dangling around your wrist, you move hastily, dragging Yuki behind you and following them inside.

part 2 - arriving next week 💕

[r4d1c4lw31rd0]

Unseen Grave (Yandere!Venture x Reader)

My first post and it's about Venture LOLZ- I've never used tumblr before, I kinda just skim through here on occasion for cool art, writing for some of my favorite characters, and headcanons- Sorry if this is bad- This is also on AO3! I don't mind any requests either, can't promise to get to them quickly though-

CW: Minor Character death, implied/referenced past non/con, dead dove kinda, stalking, non graphic violence, skippable NSFW (This isn't non-con), a kinda abrupt ending, OOC Mauga, No use of Y/N, Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Your POV

Where did all of this go wrong? You only ever wanted to live a normal and happy life. Forced into a world of crime, you made it your mission to get yourself and your comrades out of this hell hole. This slimy, sludgy pit you all had seemed perpetually stuck in, but you knew there was better out there. You could all live that lavish and carefree life you always dreamed of, you just had to claw your way to it. So when Mauga approached you, you saw it as an opportunity. Talon spotted your talent, your knack for creating poisons and toxins capable of killing or simple paralysis. Why they sent this big brute you’d never understand.

He held his hand out to you, that devious smirk on his dashing features captivating you like no other, drawing you in like a fly to a honeypot. You couldn’t see the web just inches from it though, nor could you see the spider eyeing you and waiting patiently for you to get stuck in its home. He gave you an offer you simply couldn’t ignore. A whole new identity and payment beyond what you could fathom, more than petty pocket change for simple side hustles, no you’d be playing in the big leagues. If you impressed Doomfist himself enough that is. All you had to do was complete a rather simple task and the position was all yours.

Despite what you’d heard about Mauga, he was quite tricky and conniving with his words. The smartest? Not by a long shot. He couldn’t quite comprehend the big words you used, but he could read you like an open book, and that was enough for him. The smallest twitch or glance was all he needed to know almost exactly what you were thinking and just how much more persuasion you were going to need. A true predator cornering its prey.

If you knew then what you know now, you never would’ve agreed. Then again, Talon may not have let you off the hook so easily. It may have cost you your life. You agreed to the simple mission, poisoning an important political figure and rendering him desperate enough to turn to Talon for a cure. Your unique little toxins could only be cured by you, considering they were abominations to medical science and were something entirely new and original all together. The mere fact that you only had to change one component to make it cause different effects was something you were proud of.

You didn’t doubt yourself in the slightest, so when word of your success was all over the news you felt your pride and ego swell. Doomfist had introduced you into a new world, one where the pay was greater and the tasks were challenging enough for a brilliant mind like yours. Working alongside Dr. O’deorain was fascinating, considering it was she who had inspired you to push the boundaries of the medical world. At the time, Talon seemed like it would give you everything you needed, but blinded by that desire for more and where it could take you you didn’t see it for what it truly was. Just as much of a hell hole as the rest of the world had been.

They squashed your hopes of getting somewhere, of having peace and calm rather than the hustle and bustle of the streets. No, working for them you never knew any kind of peace. A sense of hate began to form inside of you, alongside resentment. Watching them turn your brilliance into mush and treat it as if it was the common whore was devastating. They had the audacity to demand better from you. Working with Talon, you began to develop the belief that a life of crime and hate was your only option, that staying in this pit was the only option for you. The heinous acts you committed just to gain a lick of fortune was the only thing you’d ever be good for. Of course, you blamed Mauga for all of it. He had gotten you into Talon after all with his stupid face and smug words. 

 You had found yourself in some kind of relationship with him. He never said you two were together but he surely acted like it, getting irritable when others flirted with you or tried to ask you out. The relationship hadn't been the best nor the healthiest, but at the time you were just happy someone wanted you and didn't view you as a monster because of things you couldn't control. He called you so many sweet names, complimented you when Doomfist tried to put you down and offered you a place to run to in any time of need. It was all for his own advantage of course, but you didn’t know that. You just knew you could be vulnerable with him. You were unaware that you’d finally crept too close to the spider's web. No, he wasn’t a spider, he was a wolf. And you were a lamb, strayed too far from the safety of the herd and right into the wolf’s den.

Needless to say, he took advantage of you and your trust in him. The whole time you two were entangled in your complex relationship, he was almost always borderline violent with you and was very hot and cold with you, treating you as if you were some kind of dog that needed to be trained. You complied with almost everything he asked of you, and even when you didn't he forced you to anyway. Countless nights you lay next to him feeling used like some cheap toy for a rabid animal, and yet you stayed. Because Talon was all you had. Because he was all you had. No one was coming to save a monster, especially not one as sneaky and atrocious as you.

In the end, when you finally had enough, Mauga broke you down and ripped your heart to shreds. He called you so many awful names, told you how much he despised you and watched you crumble with disgusting glee. It hurt. Even though  he had treated you so poorly, you were still so distraught by his words and callous behavior. The fact that you were readily available for him was the only reason he kept you around, to be a punching bag and plaything when he felt like it. His betrayal fueled a kind of rage you didn’t know you were capable of feeling, and made you realize for the first time that this world was cruel no matter where you looked at it from and you were stuck in an echo chamber of miserable people. Maybe that's why they let you spiral. Used that rage and hurt against you, and made you numb to everything because it was just easier that way. It kept them from picking at your vulnerability any longer, from seeing you as weak..

You weren’t cared for in the slightest at Talon and you were just fine with that. You didn’t need to be babied or coddled anymore than you had when you were first introduced to this raunchy life, especially not by people who were as disingenuous and callous as your “co-workers”. The only one who showed a hint of sympathy or empathy was Dr. Kuiper and Sombra, probably some of the only people in that place capable of expressing such a thing.You couldn’t complain. You  still made money so long as you did what was asked of you and didn’t retaliate when you were degraded for your progress or your work. You were pretty sure things took a turn when you met Sloane, who at the time was “Venture” to you.

Pesky, annoying, and constantly getting in the way of your mission to find some artifact for Doomfist from some kind of ancient gravesite. The two of you were naturally enemies, being on opposite sides and all. And yet they intrigued you. Their happy-go-lucky manner and their quippy remarks as they effortlessly kicked the asses of your useless “assistants” you didn’t understand why Doomfist bothered sending. Truthfully, you could’ve accomplished the mission just as well on your own. You probably would’ve killed them too if Overwatch hadn’t shown up. Just as annoying as ever, they helped finish off the rest of your shitty squad, leaving you running off to hide like a dog with its tail between its legs. That mission you had been left behind, abandoned like an injured pup and left to fend for yourself. Badly injured, you would have cared less if you died. Sitting and stewing in your own misery had made you indifferent to life or death.

Doomfist didn’t want to lose you as an asset, but your location didn’t provide him any opportunity to send you an escape route, so you were stuck slinking about the Petra ruins, avoiding the ever-watchful eyes of Overwatch and the Wayfinders as you waited for your wounds to take you out. You’d only been caught because that insufferable archaeologist found you. You were dehydrated with infected wounds, and even then you still bared your teeth at their approach. They had been on guard at first, but seeing you in such a pathetic state had made them take pity on you, something you hadn’t been gracious enough to receive since you were a child.

Taken to the on-site medical facility, you were put under watch but nonetheless you were cared for. You were unfit to go to jail and serve for your crimes right away, so you were stuck there with the Wayfinders, under their care until you could be sent off. For whatever reason, Venture had stuck with you whenever they could, offering short conversation that was mostly one-sided. You didn’t talk much and only glared, uncomfortable with the hospitality. You would’ve preferred if they were rude to you. It was what you were used to. Three days was all it took for you to finally crack. Three days of consistent visits and kind words. Naturally, you were hesitant. Last time you had opened yourself up you were burnt terribly, and had been several times before. Kindness was a poison to you, and yet they made it so desirable. Their genuinity with it and the way they handed it out so easily had you craving it.

After about a month you had completely recovered, well enough to finally go serve for your crimes. The last day you and Venture spent together, you had taken their hand, feeling its warmth as you pressed a small kiss to the back of it. Their flustered reaction made you laugh for the first time since becoming what you were, and it was warm and joyous.

“Thank you, Sloane.” You whispered, refusing to look at them. You didn’t want them to see you cry. “You’ve been so kind to me, even though I’m so undeserving of it. I wish things were different. I wish we’d met before . . . everything.”

“Not everyone deserves a second chance.” Their words stung, making you shrink in on yourself slightly. “But, you’re . . . different. I don’t think you ever really wanted to do the things you did.”

You looked up at them. They saw you, truly saw you, what you were beneath the muck that had clung to you and thickly coated your skin. Something about the way they looked at you gently made you want to melt and embrace them, but you didn’t, still too timid to trust completely.

“You’re not a bad guy, you were just forced into a shitty situation. Try not to be so hard on yourself.” Their smile wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but it was still filled with just as much charisma and warmth.

Looking back on it, you believe it was this small interaction that led to the actions after. That simple and innocent act of gratitude. If not that, then you weren’t sure what, but you could recall that new glint in their eyes when they watched you get taken away. The way their gaze lingered far longer than it ever had. The way they subtly caressed the hand you kissed.

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

Your time in jail wasn’t bad, made better by the fact that you received letters and small gifts and pictures from Sloane. The letters were innocent to you at the time, but thinking back on it the signs were there. You wrote back, sent small handmade gifts of your own, and kept every picture and ecstatic letter they sent you from each of their journeys that they shared with you. Unfamiliar with the whole concept of having someone truly care about you, you didn’t notice anything weird. You fought a bit with the other inmates who tried their hand at intimidating the newbie, especially with how widespread your reputation had become working with Talon. You had believed yourself doomed to rot there, considering you had attacked several political figures, harmed many innocents, and stolen that much more. You’d also broken Hippocratic Oath and used your research for worse.

 But like some unwanted blessing, you found yourself hightailing it out of there early. Talon had come back for you, after abandoning you for months, and before you would’ve run back to them with open arms. Things were different now though, you had changed for the better and knew going back promised nothing but misery. You ran the second you could, barely escaping but escaping nonetheless. Hiding in a sewer wasn’t ideal but it helped you get away from that prison and away from Talon. The one good thing they could’ve done for you, and probably the last. You knew now though that they would be looking for you. Doomfist would be pissed, knowing he wasted valuable time and resources trying to get you out of prison just for you to run off, but that was his own problem. You never asked for his help, perfectly content with rotting in a cell but now gifted a chance of freedom. With nowhere to go though, you turned to the only person you felt you could trust. The one person who made you feel some sense of normalcy.

Going to Sloane was a huge gamble, considering that you were still a wanted criminal and they were pretty much some kind of vigilante hero type. It took you forever to get to Petra, but you managed, lying in wait until you could talk to Sloane again. In the dead of night, you startled them awake, covering their mouth to prevent them from shouting.

“Shhhh. It’s just me.” You whispered, letting their sleepy eyes adjust to the dark, watching them widen at the sight of you. “Follow.”

The simple command was all they needed as they trailed after you, the two of you finding a quiet little spot away from the dig site to speak freely. Sloane was dressed in a form fitting tank top, allowing you to see the various tattoos that decorated their muscular arms, but you tried not to oogle too much.

“W-What are you doing here? I thought you were in prison? . . .” Sloane spoke slowly, voice still laced with the smallest inklings of sleep as they yawned, pushing stray strands of hair from their face.

“Talon came for me.” You saw them tense, scrambling to finish explaining. “I ran though. They don’t know I’m here, but they are searching for me, and I-” your voice caught in your throat as you swallowed thickly. “I can’t go back.”

You never told Venture the full story of your time at Talon, just that it was awful. They didn’t know about Mauga, didn’t know what was said to you, or any of what you had experienced. It was difficult to bring up. What they did know was that you weren’t treated kindly, and that was enough for them.

“I just need somewhere to hide so I can create a new identity for myself. I just want to live a normal life. That’s all I want.” You stumbled forward, taking a hold of their hands, steady in your trembling ones. “I can’t trust anyone else to keep me hidden. Please, I promise you’ll never have to hear from me, I won’t cause anyone any harm, I just-”

Your desperate ranting was cut off as they pulled you into a tight hug. Their scent was calming, earthy and refreshing. They held you gently, a solid rock amidst the swirling storm of emotion you felt. You weren’t sure how to react, arms shaking as you cautiously hugged them back. You felt safe. Accepted. Warm. You began to hitch as your legs buckled and gave out, taking both of you to the ground as you buried your face into their shoulder. How long has it been since you allowed yourself to cry like this? Ugly sobs wrench their way free from your body as they hold you, rubbing slow and calming circles between your shoulder blades.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re safe with me, I promise.” They spoke in a hushed tone, accepting you as you were. “You don’t gotta explain anything to me right now, all that can come later.”

They shifted so that they could hold you more comfortably, letting you cry into them without complaint. When you calmed down, you leaned back, their arms slowly falling from you as you stared down at your lap, furiously wiping away tears. You sniffled slightly, before their hands came into view, holding yours.

“You’ll rub your face raw if you keep doing that, it’s okay to be not okay, camarada.” They were gentle with you, scooting closer to you. “I’d be happy to help you out, especially if it’ll bring you some peace. You deserve at least that much, and you’ve more than proven that you deserve it. Apologies won’t make up for much though, there’s only so far words will take you. You gotta make an effort to do better.”

You looked up to meet their gaze, warm brown eyes scanning your face. You didn’t feel judged, and instead could feel that love and care you always so desperately searched for. You did have a long way to go if you even wanted to atone for a fraction of what you had done, but you were aware no amount of repenting would fix anything. You still did what you did, and there was nothing you could do to fix it. And yet, here in Venture’s arms, you felt so sure that things would get better, especially with them at your side. So distracted by your thoughts and their comfort, you barely registered the way they looked at you with a burning possession and the way their smile slightly faltered when you removed yourself from their hold.

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

Venture POV

Six months. For six, sweet months Venture had you all to themself. It was a miracle of some kind, it had to be. When the two of you had been separated they could hardly stand it, they wanted to go to you and take you from that prison themself. Hide you away from the world where only they could find you. But they had a reputation to uphold, and they wouldn’t be doing anyone much good if they were in prison with you. When you had first arrived all that time ago, Sloane had thought of you as a bad guy working for talon and nothing more, but when they talked to you in the infirmary, they could tell you were different. When you kissed their hand so sweetly, holding back tears, they felt their heart nearly explode.

At first they were scared and confused. These feelings were new and foreign, they’d never felt this way about anyone else before. But you . . . you lit a new fire in them they didn’t know existed, and they wanted more. They wanted you, but you were gone, so they made do with letters and sending you gifts. They remembered when you finally started writing back they could hardly contain themself, not to mention when you sent the little gifts you made by hand. Countless nights Sloane had spent thinking about you, depressed by the thought that they’d never get to touch or hold you. They tossed and turned dreaming about what it would be like to have you next to them instead, but it did nothing to soothe the growing flames of their obsession with you.

And then right out of thin air you appeared, needing them. It had to be fate, the way you came back to them like a lost dog, dependent upon them and their helping hand. Talon had finally done a good thing for them, and that was bringing you two together again. They had been more than willing to do anything for you, but you were so shy and timid. They had to be careful, or else you’d run off and never come back. They had to put on a facade, but was it really a facade when it felt so genuine with you? Because they did care about you, they’d go so far as to say that they loved you. However, they knew you were fragile, knew that this pillar of trust they had built up could be snapped in an instant if you caught a whiff of how they truly felt, because no matter how right this felt to Venture, they knew it was wrong . They had to do this the right way, and that meant keeping their feelings for you a secret.

At first, there wasn’t much to worry about. They had you all to themself by default, considering if anyone saw you they’d send you right back to prison. As they had promised, they kept you hidden away from the prying eyes of everyone at the dig site, whisked away where they wouldn’t find you while they helped you rebuild. They helped you change your appearance, making you look different than what you were before but still vaguely the same. They gave you a place to rest your head, and provided you with food and water. They took care of you, like any good partner would. You probably didn’t see it that way, but Sloane had convinced themself you would with due time. You’d recognize their effort and fall into their arms. You’d let them touch you more, and you’d open up to them and share all your secrets like good partners did. But you didn’t.

No matter what they did, you always seemed to be so far from their reach, withdrawing from their attempts to touch or soothe you when you clearly needed it, and each time they respected that boundary, though patience was wearing thin. You were so close, how could they not want to touch you? They always made due with taking things of yours. Articles of clothing in particular that smelled strongly of you. They loved your smell. It was a unique scent, and they always felt so perverted sniffing your shirts in private. The shame fueled their hunger though, and occasionally they’d get bold enough to take your underwear. Not often, but when they really wanted to.

When you finally cultivated a new identity, they helped you get a job at the Petra site, if only to keep you closer to them. You may have been part of the bio-archaeology team, but you were still theirs. They had been concerned at first, afraid that someone there might catch your eye and take you away from them, but you did wonders in keeping people away. The others might have called you ‘rude’ and ‘scary’, but Venture knew the true you, them and them alone. You kept the rest of the world at bay, and kept them close.

If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. The two of you were clearly meant for each other, and everyday that passed that you still treated them as a simple friend pained them more and more. Why couldn’t you see what the two of you had? You still tortured them, tempting them to get closer, close enough to touch. Sloane was content playing a well-behaved best friend, but they couldn’t explain that aching desire for more that coiled in their gut as time ticked by.

Despite their own turmoil, you were happy and that was all that mattered. As upsetting as it was seeing you start to open up with others, they couldn’t deny that the look on your face was worth it. Nothing compared to what they could make you feel, but it satisfied them knowing that you were getting what you wanted and what they had promised you’d have. Peace. And they planned on keeping it that way. You believed that Talon couldn’t find you. But the truth was they had, and tried several times to take you away and back into their nasty clutches. But every time, Sloane was there to stop them, dispatching them all with ease. Every time they rammed their drill into a talon goons body, piercing and mangling their flesh, they always thought of you. How this was all for you and only you.

Every bone broken, scream muffled, and skull cracked beneath a boot was all done in your name. These guys wanted to take you back to a place that hurt you, wipe that sweet precious smile off your face forever and undo all of Sloane’s progress. Sloane didn’t feel bad watching their blood stain their clothes because they deserved it, and if they could they would’ve killed every single person working for Talon, but they needed to stay here with you to keep a watchful eye and keep you blissfully unaware. These disgusting bastards wouldn’t ruin you again, not if Venture had anything to say about it.

Tonight was no different as they carelessly tossed more mangled bodies into a ravine, a small smirk of satisfaction evident on their features. How many more would they send before they stopped trying? Then again, it always gave them a rush when they took out these idiots, thinking about how grateful you’d be to them if you knew. Sometimes, when you pulled away they wanted to drag you closer, shake you and confess everything. Confess their love, the things they’d done to those Talon goons who were trying to snag you, maybe then you’d appreciate them. Perhaps you’d even reciprocate their love.

It was becoming too much for them to bear, and as ashamed as they were of the action, they had tried to get closer to you while you were sleeping. They always wanted to consider that it would be the perfect moment to get close to you. They underestimated how light of a sleeper you were though, panicking when you opened your eyes and caught them right in the act. They had to come up with an excuse, one that you surprisingly believed before they excused themself. It wasn’t their proudest moment, but at least they knew not to try it again. You were sleeping now, tired from the day's events, but Sloane lay wide awake in their bed, twitching with anticipation. They hadn’t seen you most of the day, with both of you being busy. As much as they loved what they did, Sloane loved you more.

They wanted to visit you now more than ever, feeling hot and bothered after dispatching those goons, but knowing damn well you wouldn’t allow it. They thought about it several times, coming to you after finishing them off, covered in their blood and giving you a kiss. Your hands roaming them as you praised them for their work. They huffed softly, hands grabbing at their shirt as they flipped over.

~NSFW START~

They were feeling particularly needy tonight, pulling out a shirt of yours they had recently taken. They pressed it to their nose, inhaling deeply and taking in your delectable scent. It still smelled so strongly of you, and it brought them inexplicable joy. They practically salivated over it, breath coming out in whiny gasps. They sat up slightly, taking their pillow and pushing it beneath their body. They let out a soft growl as their hips grinded against the pillow, imagining it to be you instead as they closed their eyes and sniffed again. They shuddered as they let out a breath, whimpering as they continued to grind some more against the pillow.

They thought about how vocal you could be, imaging your hands roaming over their muscles, massaging them as you went. Your legs wrapping around them as they provided you with pleasure, your face contorting in ways they could only cause. The praise you’d give as they followed your every command. Sloane moaned softly as they humped the pillow faster, rougher, free hand curling into the sheets as they pressed their face further into your shirt.

“Joder querido por favor~ I need you~” They whispered the words in a hushed tone, slowing their pace for a moment. “ He sido tan bueno, lo prometo~”

Gods, they could imagine how you would feel, body pressed against theirs, flesh touching flesh as the sound of your love would reverberate through the room. The two of you could care less who would hear, it would just be the both of you in the moment. The marks they would leave on you, nipping at as much exposed flesh as they could, marking you up and claiming you as theirs. You’d beg them for more and they’d happily oblige, giving you what you wanted. They could be gentle, or they could be rough. They could pin your hands and make you squirm and beg for their touch, or perhaps you’d like to be on top, having them worship every inch of you and beg to touch you. Beg you for relief.

“Dios ya no puedo más, te necesito mucho mi amor por favor~” Their voice was high pitched and whiny, desperation laced in their tone. “Tell me how good I’ve been for you~ Fuck ~ You feel so good mi amor~ Tell me how good I make you feel~”

Their moans gradually got louder the deeper into the fantasies they sank, desperately wishing for the real thing. They could only think about how soon enough it could be you, you just needed a little more coaxing and to realize your feelings that you undoubtedly had for them. They could see it in the way you looked at them, feel it when you touched them. Your words were so gentle with them, and you were so sweet. God they couldn’t wait to have you. They’d take it as slow as you needed if only it meant you’d be closer to them. How would your lips finally feel once you let them get close enough? How would you taste?

“Mine, mine, mine. All mine. Only mine.” Their words were muffled, coming out in short growls, matching the pace they had set for themself. “Eres toda mía, mi amor, toda mía~” The words came out in a chant, laying some unknown claim on you for their own sake and sanity.

Sloane slowed their movement against the pillow, thinking about how whiny you’d get when they went slower than you liked, and then picked up again in the same beat to keep you on your toes. Their thrusts got rougher as they groaned, panting desperately as they approached their climax, their last few thrusts desperate as they let out one last cry, sweat dripping from their body as they relaxed, nuzzling their face into your shirt.

~NSFW END~

Sloane instantly felt much more relaxed, feeling the tension leave their body. Such a mess they’d made. They thought about laying next to you, giving you soft kisses and praise as they cleaned you up and snuggled close to go to bed. Unfortunately, they weren’t with you and couldn’t sleep while being such a mess. They lifted themself from their bed, tucking your shirt away again for a later date. For now, they needed to clean themself up, grabbing a towel as they headed for the showers. In due time the two of you would be together. You’d recognize your love for them, and they’d be waiting for you with open arms, no matter how long it took. Until then, they were content just being near you, protecting you from afar.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Hiii can I ask for fixing the other persons clothes absentmindedly or like tucking their hair behind their ear U KNOW WHAT I MEAN THAT SOFT STUFF for buddie pls and thanks 🖤🖤 if it sparks any joy

Hi Rae 🥰🥰 you absolutely can!

"This is nothing against you," Buck says as soon as Eddie walks into the locker room, "but why do we need a medal for saving you?" Eddie huffs a laugh. "I'll try not to take that too personally, bud." He stands behind Buck, who's pouting at his reflection. His tie still hangs loose around his neck, and half the buttons of his dress blues are still undone. "I don't mean it that way," Buck huffs with an eye roll, a gesture so much like Christopher it makes Eddie's heart ache. "I just mean... that's not why I saved you." "I know it's not," Eddie says, moving to stand beside him. He brushes at Buck's shoulder, smoothing out the fabric. "Our deal doesn't need medals." "Exactly," Buck says with a little flail of his hand. "They're proud of you," Eddie says. "So am I. Grateful, too." Buck ducks his head with a bashful smile, the same one that made Eddie's heart double tap in his chest the first time he saw it. Hen pokes her head in the door. "They're showing up already." She disappears just as quick. Buck looks at his reflection again and swiftly finishes the buttons. He takes the tie between his fingers and his shoulders drop, admitting defeat before he's even accepted the challenge. "Come here," Eddie says softly. Buck steps closer to him and Eddie takes the tie from his hands. "Your parents showing up?" Buck asks. Eddie shrugs. "They might. They're still mad about the whole situation, but you never know." "And um..." Buck clears his throat, "any- anyone else coming?" Eddie glances up at Buck before focusing on his task. "I broke up with Marisol." Buck swallows as Eddie's knuckles brush his throat. "Sorry to hear that." "I'm not," Eddie admits, smiling at Buck as he straightens his tie. "Me neither," Buck whispers, looking into his eyes. Eddie trails his hands down Buck's chest. "No?" Buck takes one of Eddie's hands and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. "We'll talk later?" "We'd better," Eddie grins. He sees Maddie walk past, followed closely by Athena. He looks at Buck. "Go get your medal. I have a feeling it'll look good on you." A blush curls into his cheeks. "Not as good as the suit looks on you." He winks and dashes out, leaving Eddie blushing in the locker room.

Send me a soft prompt!

[codenamesazanka]

Haven’t been keeping up with bnha… what happened this time

Sorry, I've been mostly complaining about what hasn't happened! Which is that the 'saving' sucked and didn't actually solve anything. But here is what happened.

Deku got his own Rising Chapter that's showing off how he's the greatest Hero or whatever but imo he hasn't earned it. So like, he gave Shigaraki punch therapy and managed to psychically dive into Shigaraki's innermost mind so that he can prevent memory-Tenko from decaying his family, thereby saving his heart. But in doing so, that woke up AFO who's taken over Shigaraki again. AFO also revealed that he literally was sort of the reason why Tenko was conceived in the first place, and he engineered Tenko's whole life, whether it was Kotarou being strict or even having child spies (Mikkun and Tomochan) encourage Tenko into wanting to be a Hero; and this psychologically shattered Shigaraki/Tenko.

Meanwhile Deku sacrificed his arms saving Tenko but regained them literally next chapter because why have any meaningful change or symbolism. He did lose OFA, but that's because he shot the OFA vestiges like bullets at Shigaraki in order to tear open his trauma core instead of like, trying to talk to Shigaraki much at all.

All Heroes have shown up to beat the crap out of AFO-in-Shigaraki's-Body again. But only Deku can deliver the final blow or whatever so they're mostly supporting him and cheering him on because he's so inspiring. Also he hasn't had a single thought about saving Shigaraki/Tenko in the past three chapters, despite that having been like his greatest challenge and overarching goal for the entire third act but technically he already saved The Psychic Vision Crying Child so maybe that's done and over and actual adult Shigaraki can go fuck himself and all Deku needs to focus on now is beating the crap out of AFO-in-Shigaraki's-Body.

The series feels like it's reaching its immediate end - literally ending in the next few chapters - but all the villains are like dying or dead or probably going to be locked up forever in Tartarus 2.0. But ostensibly they were saved because a Hero held their hand for a minute and made them feel better! While the causes that made them turned villain are barely addressed explicitly by the Heroes at all. Maybe Heroes might change things after the war but who knows. So far the only change anyone has acknowledged is that people have to support Heroes even more intensely than before by loving them more and demanding less of them. But hey, Heroes are cool again.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Seventeen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.5k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Your back ached as you trudged behind everyone. Rafe walked alongside you, every step of the way. He wasn’t going to take it easy on you & you knew it.

There was debate about how to track down Bear. The others wanted to take Sayyed’s wrangler, making it easier to get from point A to point B, but Rafe didn’t allow it. He didn’t want Bear, or anyone for that matter, to destroy or steal the vehicle. So, the hunt for Bear would be done on foot. You thought that to be a good thing though, meant everyone would be slower.

You didn’t understand why Rafe felt it necessary to track down Bear. It had been days since he escaped & since you were leading them in the wrong direction, Bear would never be found. Rafe didn’t know you were lying, but he had to at least know that Bear was long gone. So, why? But you didn’t bother asking. After what he did to you, you would never give him your voice again.

“It’ll be half a days walk to get there.” Rafe said beside you, his voice low. “Where is he going exactly?”

You rolled your eyes, groveling internally. Even if Greensboro was the true destination, you wouldn’t have told him.

“_____.” Rafe said your name in warning, “If you don’t tell me…”

You stopped in your steps abruptly, turning to glare at him. Challenging him. What the fuck else are you going to do to me? You knew Rafe understood what you were asking by your glare. It was bad enough that he had Micah lash you like they did hundreds of years ago, made worse by Micah breaking your fingers, which were expertly cast but the pain was still there. But more so, he had raped you. Twice. Lied to you, took advantage of you, manipulated you. There was nothing more he could take from you.

A deep grumble produced from within his chest as he sneered down at you, but he ultimately snatched you by the upper arm & forced you to keep moving. You shook him off, glad to walk ahead of him with him out of your line of sight.

Maddie, Kai, & Barry stayed behind at the mill. The rest of you—Micah, Rafe, Adrianna, Victor, & Enzo. Micah led the pack, keeping an eye out for any sign of recent life. Adrianna was hot on his heels, her gun securely attached at her hip. Everyone carried, except for you. Of course, Rafe knew better than to give you any sort of weapon, or means of defense should any of you come across hostile forces.

Your role was the mule. You carried one of the heavier backpacks on your back which only added to the pain & discomfort of Micah’s punishment at Rafe’s command. The backpack carried most of what anyone would need to survive in the woods should any of you get held up for longer than imagined. You were surprised Rafe trusted you to carry it, knowing that if you had the opportunity to escape you would & then you’d have everything you needed to survive. And while you knew the chances to get just that opportunity were slim, you were fully prepared to take off.

What you wore wouldn’t get you much survival went. After all, the group would only be out of for a couple days, but in the off chance you did escape, you’d make it your second priority to find more clothes. Your first would be putting a great distance between you & the enemies you walked with.

About an hour into walking in the wrong direction, a whistle sounded from the front of the group, & you peered over the heads of the others as you saw Micah halt the others with his right fist raised.

“Rafe, think we got something.” Micah announced, his voice carrying to the two of you in the back.

Rafe tossed you a look before making you move forward with him. Once at the front, Rafe approached Micah who was bent at the knees inspecting the forest floor.

“Tracks. Recent. Maybe a day or two old.” You heard Micah tell him.

You weren’t sure when & where Micah learned how to track, but you didn’t care. They weren’t Bear’s. But you’d lead them to believe they were.

“Huh.” Rafe stared at the shoe prints in the dirt before following the direction they went in, “Hasn’t gotten very far.”

“If they’re even his…” Micah rose to his full height, giving Rafe a knowing look before throwing a spiteful glance your way.

You returned it ten-fold.

“They’re his.” Rafe told him firmly, “She has no reason to lie. Besides, look at her.”

Both of the boys glanced where you stood, “She’s shaking. She knows were getting closer & she knows she can do nothing about it.”

Pfft. But you played the role of scared & surprised thoroughly, widening your eyes in fear. Rafe clapped Micah on the shoulder, “Lead the way.”

Micah inhaled sharply, displeased, but nodded. The group continued & Rafe kept you close, almost as if there was an invisible leash tied securely around your neck. You dreamed about cutting the imagined tether, more so, cutting Rafe’s throat. But surrounded by his lackey’s, you knew the chance would never happen. Micah would put you down before you ever could.

The group walked for another 40 minutes or so, following the tracks closely unknowing of where they led. Since you knew them not to be Bear’s, you couldn’t imagine it would lead you all to anywhere good, but you wouldn’t warn them of such. If they got fucked, you hoped it was royally.

Your feet were beginning to ache though. Your hand, too. You took painkillers this morning to numb the discomfort but it appeared they were already wearing off. Grunting silently to yourself, you shifted the back uncomfortably. Rafe paused in his steps when he noticed you were slowing down.

“What is it?” He asked, staring at you in mild concern. Concern? Ha, yeah, right.

Ignoring him, you dropped yourself onto a nearby fallen trunk, swinging the backpack around to your front.

Rafe whistled at the others, “Wait. We’re taking ten!”

You heard half of them grumble, likely having noticed the reason for a break was because of you, but the other half sounded slightly relieved, more than happy to take a breather. Reaching into the backpack, you searched blindly for the painkillers Adrianna placed in there. But after a moment or of two of struggling to find them, the backpack was ripped away from you. Rafe kneeled on one knee before you, unzipping another compartment of the backpack. You heard the rattling sound of pills against plastic.

He produced the painkillers & you reached your hand out for them, but just as you did, Rafe pulled his hand away, a haughty smirk on his face, “Need these?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Huh?” Rafe raised his brows, “Then ask nicely.”

He wanted you to talk, that much was obvious. But you wouldn’t give in. You attempted reaching for them again but Rafe was quick to use his other hand to block you from moving closer to the object of your desire.

“C’mon. Mind your p’s & q’s.”

Asshole. You pressed your lips together, glaring at him as he eyed you challengingly.

The pain would only get worse unless you got your hands on those painkillers. And you weren’t sure if going a full day without them, potentially more than that, was worth it just in an effort to remain silent.

But just as you parted your lips to snarkily ask for the medicine, shots rang out. Before you could register was exactly was happening, Rafe yanked you from the trunk you sat on & shielded you as he fell on top of you from the bullets whizzing through the air.

“Get down!” Rafe shouted as the others quickly fell to the forest floor & covered their heads.

Your back stung & burned as Rafe’s body weight crushed against you, pressing you into the ground. Hot tears escaped your eyes at the sudden onslaught of pain but you had bigger worries to concern yourself with. Like being shot at.

“There’s more than one!” Micah shouted amidst the chaos.

You felt as Rafe covered your head with his arms as he cocooned himself around you. You whimpered beneath him but not because you were scared. Your back & hand were fucking pulsing with ungodly pain.

Then just as quickly as the madhouse began, it ended. The forest was eerily quiet for about a second before Rafe shot to his feet.

“Adrianna, stay with _____. Rest of you with me, let’s go!” Rafe shouted as he & the rest of the boys took off after him through the trees, all their guns out & ready for war.

You stayed on the ground for a moment longer, watching as Adrianna set herself up behind a tree, hidden well enough from view but had her gun aimed & ready in the direction the others disappeared to. In the distance, you could hear shouting & more gunfire. But it sounded further & further away.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was your chance. Likely your one & only chance. You had to take it. Now.

Looking around you, you spotted a rock half the size of your head. It was only partly buried by the earth. Quickly, & quietly, you crawled over to it, unearthing it from the forest floor. Then you peered at the back Adrianna’s head.

You may not remember anything from the last couple weeks, but you remembered her as someone you once called friend. How you, her, & Millie would have girls’ night at your apartment where the three of you would drink wine & beer & troll the university dating app, making fun of the pool of single fish in the area. You remembered how she would poke fun at you in the morning after when you were dealing with a wicked hangover but could make one hell of a hangover cocktail to help.

But that girl was gone. Dead & gone. The girl who had her back to you wasn’t a friend. She watched as Rafe & Micah abused you, showed no emotion or care during it. She allowed Rafe to lie & manipulate you, all to keep him happy. And you’d bet your life on it that she knew about him raping you. The girl before you wasn’t a friend, she was an extension of the enemy. And in this new world, you learned harshly that survival meant doing whatever it took to survive.

Adrianna was none the wiser as you walked up behind her, her focus entirely on the woods before her. After all, you were sure she didn’t expect you to grow a pair. Underestimating you would be her downfall.

With the rock gripped tightly in your hand, you raised it above your head, then brought it down on the back of Adrianna’s skull. Adrianna howled in pain, the gun dropping from her hands as she fell to her knees clutching her head. You quickly kicked the gun away into some foliage nearby. But as you did, Adrianna was quick too react & rebuttal.

She swung her leg out, knocking your feet out from under you, effectively making you drop the rock. A wheezed grunt escaped you as you fell to your back. Adrianna growled, glaring hotly at you.

“You fucking hit me?!” She yelled.

All you could do was smirk. You’d do it again.

“Fuck, Rafe.” She spit, reaching into a band around her thigh & removing the pocketknife there. Shit. You had forgotten about that. “You’re dead.”

Adrianna screamed then, racing towards you with the knife, aiming it right at your chest. You forced yourself to roll to the side just as she fell where you once were, her knife dug into the earth. Much to your luck, you rolled right next to the rock you had used on her before. Quickly gripping it yet again, you swung your arm & bashed the rock into Adrianna’s face. Another yelp sounded from her. Her hand loosened around the knife.

Your survival instincts only burned brighter as you kicked her in the stomach, knocking her onto her back & away from her knife. You rolled after until you straddled her hips. She threw a punch into your side, making you wince in pain, but not enough to deter you. The rock fell from your hand for a second time. With both hands, you hurriedly snatched the back of her head & raised it before bringing your forehead down on her. The sound of bone crunching was practically music to your ears.

“You broke my fucking nose!” Adrianna cried out as she instinctively raised her hands to cover her face, blood seeping between her fingers.

I’ll break more than that, bitch.

Yanking one of her hands from her face, you gripped four of her fingers in your left hand, & with all the strength you could muster in your non-dominant hand, you bent the fingers back until you heard them snap all at the same time.

“Fuck! Get the fuck off me!” Adrianna screamed, thrashing under you but your rage kept you grounded atop her.

Eyeing her pocket knife a foot away, you quickly reached out & snatched it, before bringing the briny edge of the blade to her throat. Adrianna immediately stopped crying, though she was still breathing heavily, as she stared wide-eyed up at you.

You pressed the blade further into her skin, just enough that if she made any sudden movement, it would surely puncture her.

The two of you glared at one another. You shook your head, angry tears returning as you stared down at someone you once called friend.

“Why?” You questioned, your voice harsh & hoarse.

She sneered up at you, “Why, what?”

“Why did you let him do all that shit to me?”

Adrianna’s scowl softened, but only slightly. Then her eyes hardened.

“Why, Adrianna?!” You yelled, pressing the blade until you saw a droplet of blood appear.

“Because.” She started, her voice equally as harsh as your own, “He’s a survivor.”

A teardrop of yours landed on Adrianna’s cheek at her admittance. Your blood felt hot, your skin burned, your back stung, your hand throbbed, your mind darkened.

You leaned forward, looking her dead in the eyes as you gritted out the last words she’d hear, “So am I.”

Then you brought the knife down & plunged it into the center of her chest. Adrianna screamed then yelped as blood pooled around your hand & soaked her shirt. Then she coughed & red stained her lips as her lungs drowned in her own blood.

Tears continued to fall from your eyes as you watched Adrianna weakly reach for you. You shoved yourself off her, your heart racing as you paced around her.

“Rafe…will be…proud.” Adrianna choked out as her eyes began to glaze over.

You stood there silently as she struggled to breathe. And then a rattle sounded from her throat, & she stopped moving. Adrianna was dead. Her blood on your hands proved it.

But you didn’t have time to mourn your old friend. You needed to move.

The forest was silent. No gunfire. No shouting. Whoever Rafe & the others chased after wouldn’t survive long. You had to get as far away as possible before they returned.

Rushing back to the fallen trunk, you quickly found the bottle of painkillers Rafe had dropped & stuffed them back into the backpack. Once the backpack was secured, you glanced around once more. The knife. The gun.

Moving as fast as possible, you snatched the gun from the brush you kicked it into & stuck it into your waistband. Then, as coldly & emotionlessly as possible, you returned to Adrianna’s body. Kneeling down, you firmly gripped the knife buried into her chest & yanked it out. Blood sprayed across your shirt. You ignored the action of what you were doing & wiped the blade against your thigh before folding it back into its place.

Now, it was time to run.

Rafe circled the clearing, glaring at the one man left alive as Micah held a gun under his chin.

“So, you haven’t seen a big guy come through here?” Rafe asked for the last time.

After the unknown shoots shot at him & his group, Rafe led the men into the woods, determined to track down & maim those who shot at them in the first place. He mildly hoped Bear would be among them, but much to his chagrin, Bear was nowhere to be found. Instead, after a lengthy gunfight & hand-to-hand brawl, Rafe finally gained the upper hand.

There was only three of them. Micah killed one. Victor the other. Now, there was just one alive. He was around Rafe’s age, give or take a few years. The other two had been older. Maybe his brothers. Rafe didn’t care though. He just wanted answers.

“Like I said,” The young man spit, “No one comes through these woods without us knowing about it. How do you think we found you all? We have a whole fifty acres rigged to alert us to any potential threats.”

Rafe smirked at that. He was indeed a threat. And they fucked up when they started shooting at him. It was too bad, honestly. Rafe would’ve liked to have had the extra manpower. But he wasn’t going to let them get away with it. Not one bit.

“Those tracks we found, whose were they then?” Micah asked next as he forced the muzzle of his deeper into the man’s chin.

“Ours.” The stranger responded. “Look, you won, alright?!”

He shuddered, his eyes peering around at the others with pitiful plea, “Just let me go. It won’t happen again.”

Rafe sighed, staring up at the tops of the trees. Then he glanced at the young man, “You’re right. It won’t.”

Then he nodded at Micah.

Micah’s grinned & pulled the trigger. The back of the man’s head exploded & chunks of blood, brain, & flesh painted the tree behind him.

“She lied.” Rafe thought out loud.

“I told you so.” Micah commented as he cleaned off the muzzle of his gun. “Still, you act so surprised that your precious slut would dare defy you.”

Rafe ignored the comment, shaking his head, “Well. She won’t lie again.”

“How’re you going to make sure of that?” Micah questioned.

“Because hurting her doesn’t get us the truth. But…hurting someone she cares about? That���ll be the winner.”

Micah guffawed at that, smirking knowingly, “There’s no one else she cares about. You made sure of that.”

“No, no.” Rafe disagreed, gesturing for the others to collect the guns & ammo off the dead men, “There’s still one person left.”

“Who?” Micah cocked his head, “You? C’mon, you’re crazy but you’re not delusional.”

“Nah, not me.” Rafe smiled, “Kai. That little pussy has nothing to offer us anyway. _____ knows he only follows me because he’s scared. We hurt him, we get answers. Real answers.”

Micah sighed but nodded, “Worth the try, I guess.”

“Alright, let’s head back. I’m sure the girls are just worried sick.” Rafe shared sarcastically. The others laughed as they trailed their way back to where they ran off from.

But what they returned to was a sight none of them ever expected to see.

“Holy shit, dude.” Victor breathed out as everyone circled around Anna’s body.

Rafe felt his heartbeat wildly within his chest. Micah kneeled down, his fingers against Anna’s neck as he felt for a pulse. But it was futile. She was clearly dead.

Micah looked up at Rafe, nodding in confirmation.

“Guess your girl has more fight in her.” Enzo commented playfully.

Rafe was stewing. _____ killed Anna? Had anyone said she would be capable of such a thing months ago he’d say bullshit, but now. Now, she had nothing left to lose. And it was all Rafe’s doing. He created her, molded her to be as cold-blooded of a killer as he was. Part of him was impressed, & regrettably horny about it, but most of him was angry. She just couldn’t stop turning his back on him. Even after he gave her everything, protected her, kept her the fuck alive. And this is how she repaid him?

“What do you wanna do?” Micah questioned, pulling his gun out yet again, “She couldn’t have gotten far. We can still catch up to her.”

But Rafe raised his hand, shaking his head, “Nah. Let her go. Let her think she’ll get away. It’ll just make it that much more satisfying when we catch her again.”

“She could be going anywhere, though.” Micah replied, clearly geared up & ready to track her down & hurt her beyond recognition, “The longer we let her go the harder it’ll be to find her.”

Rafe only smiled knowingly, looking at Anna’s corpse, “She won’t find Bear. Bear’s in the wind. So, she’ll go where she feels safest next.”

“And where’s that?”

Rafe grinned.

Adrianna Green

2001-2023

i spy with my little eye a reader who will do anything to survive.

this was such a fun chapter for me two write & i am fucking stoked about where it is going. either 2 or 3 chapters left, ya'll, i still haven't decided. so, as always, please share your thoughts/feelings w me, i just know they're gonna be juicy.

drop a comment, reblog w reviews, talk to me in the ask box, just share your feelings.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

(going by oona now as beau lost it's appeal & oona means 'lamb')

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[dancingundermoonlight101]

The times I've thought about you have been plenty. It's a never-ending cycle, for you see, I am falure of a Prime.

Megatron, as you stand before me, blade stabbing through my spark, through the pain and sorrow, I can't help but feel relief. Relief that between the two of us, you are the one to remain alive. With the war over, you having won, I would like to make one final request of you old friend.

Don't kill my comrades.

No matter how much you hate them, what threat they may pose, I beg of you. Leave them alive. It pains me to say, but without me, they won't interfere much with your plans anymore. I can only hope you remember your roots. The kindness and hope for something better your spark held when I was but your archivist, and you, my warrior. It might be selfish to think this in my final moments. But I've always loved you, Megatron.

Perhaps in death, will these feelings finally meet their end.

I love you. I loved you. I never stopped loving you, even in my final moments. I hope to Primus we meet in our next lives and I hope again that it's a much kinder life. One without war or inequality or corruption. One where I can hold your servo in mine without shame. One where you are not Lord Megatron and I Optimus Prime. Leaders of the Decepticons and Autobots respectfully.

Until we meet again in the well of all sparks...

------

Megatron glared at the body of the deceased Prime. A dark pit in his spark. A black hole threatening to swallow all its light. He had thought it a good idea to have Shockwave and Soundwave make a machine that would make the last moments and thoughts of anybot visible and audible. He thought maybe he'd see the Prime's thoughts pleading him to not kill his comrades, as well as fear. Something to explain why Optimus in his final moments commed him ".: Spare them:."

Megatron didn't spare them, of course. He was frankly going to enjoy killing them one by one. But they had all escaped.

How bothersome.

He'd find them someday. He's sure of it. And just to spit in Optimus's last wish, he will torture them, too.

The Prime's face in his last moments echoed in his mind. He growled at the useless longing in his spark, squeezing a random object and breaking it.

He still couldn't believe it. Optimus Prime in love with his arch nemesis. How foolish. How stupid. Ridiculous!

Megatron clawed at the chesplates just over his spark. He could not cry, for his tears had run dry long ago. Foolish indeed. This is not what he thought he wanted. Ruling over Cybertron, having cyberformed earth into a second world for his species.. He had thought he wanted it. Now that he had it, Megatron found it empty. His ambitions were gone, no longer did he have a true equal in this whole galaxy.

None would ever be Optimus Prime.

No, he had to set things right. A world without Optimus is not a world Megatron can live with. Where's the fun in getting everything he wants without a little bit of a constant challenge?

.

. .

. . . .

Megatron, a true Decepticon, able to deceive even himself. Primus mused at this. Silly child, went on to kill his other half. This just won't do.

Their short story won't end like this. Primus will not allow it. He Who is Forever Tainted by Unicron, you will live life anew. You shall only know when the time is right, and your debt to Primus has been paid off of what they have done. Do not make the same choices that lead you to make your biggest regret. Make no mistake, this wish is not for you, but for he who is favored by me.

Make the child of Primus, he who was once Orion Pax and later one of Primus's true Primes enjoy a life worth living.

This is your one and only chance. Make it count.

. . . .

. .

.

M—

—atr–n

Meg-tron

"MEGATRON!"

Megatron woke up with a jolt. He tried to online his battle protocols, and they hummed loudly, ready to come out. But something stopped him. A servo, two, actually. Each cupped his cheeks and wiped away his tears. He turned to look at the bot whose servos they belonged to and found none other than Optimus Prime. "You're alive?"

Optimus looked bewildered for a moment, he could feel it through their bond. Bond? He felt affection, worry, and love from the Prime.

"I am very much alive, Megatron." Optimus leaned in to press their forehelms together. Megatron's servos easily reached to hold the Prime's waist as if they'd done so thousands of times. Maybe even more than that. "You must have had a nightmate."

"A nightmare.." It seemed so vivid. A world without Optimus, one where he had..

Megatron doesn't even want to think about it. His spark was still beating wildly in its chamber, and he recognized he still felt fear. A few well placed kisses from his bondmate further eased his worries and sorrow that still felt fresh in his processor and spark. Right. He and Optimus were Conjuxed now. Megatron greedily leaned into the kiss, but one small playful bap from his beloved made him huff and smile. Softening the kiss that would have become more desperate had it continued.

Megatron held Optimus for a long moment. His helm burrowed on the Prime's neck, the action mirrored by his other half. Small comforting kisses are being pressed on Megatron's neck along with quiet words of love. Primus, Optimus was a soft fool. But he was Megatron's soft fool.

They had layed back down at one point, still as close to one another as they could be. And they remained like that. Optimus having fallen asleep again at one point.

Megatron knew Optimus was a blessing, he just hadn't realized how much of one he was until he had that dream. No. The fragmented memories of his past life. Megatron had never seen them before, and even now they were hazy. But the feelings had persisted and carried over. He realized this now. It was thanks to them he reacted rather irrationally at many points in this life, but his longing for Optimus to be by his side remained the same. It had just taken a much, much more romantic turn than his other self would have thought.

Megatron had no regrets though. None at all. As he pressed a soft kiss on Optimus's audial, he smiled soft. "I love you." He wispered. He had said it so many times already, yet somehow this felt like the first.

[zzzzzestforlife]

🎀 Going Challenge // Day 10 & 11 of 82🐇

🗼 正直に、最近私は幸せす。楽しがあります。運動はまたが好きです。私のが好きな音楽は聞きます。あとは、週末はまたに来ます。(honestly, lately i am happy. i have fun. i like exercising again. i listen to my favorite music. also, the weekend has come again.)

Day 10

📒 journal

❓ again, technically, i do have a layover in Korea. so. this is useful. (ok, i totally caved again but look at the date it was posted!! i held out for so long 😭)

🚣‍♀️🏃‍♀️ i forgot about my rule of only fun workouts allowed. yesterday's workout that i attempted was not very fun and i feel like i'm forcing myself to re-attempt it today and for what 🤨 so instead, it's my favorite exercise of rowing + run bts (and other bops)

🍱 Japanese listening practice (i didn't finish it because it felt surprisingly easy even without subs and i want to focus on learning practical vocabulary for when i travel, でも先生はとてもいいです、それで日本の友達と話す勉強に私はおすすめです! but for learning to make conversation with Japanese friends, i highly recommend!) + practical listening + conversation practice

⛩️ Japanese lessons (2x) + unit exam

🕵️‍♀️ read a chapter of And Then There Were None (bgm)

💸 personal finance class~

🚘 driving lesson~

Day 11

🏃‍♀️ 10 minute cardio (i've been focusing mainly on building up strength to avoid a relapse of my chronic pain issues, which have managed to resurface periodically anyway, so i thought screw it 😛 but since this is my first time doing proper cardio in a while, ngl i almost died 💀 the music slaps tho)

🍱 Japanese listening + conversation practice (someone please tell me there is a song like Left & Right by Seventeen that i can use to remember directions in Japanese 🙏)

❓ i caved... again 근데 에이사의 천천히 한국어로 말은 조금 애매,,, 알아들 없어 😅

⛩️ Japanese lessons (3x)

❓ binge-read The Guest Cat (yes, i started not-so-secretly reading a... 5th? 6th book? almost 2 weeks ago... but it's part of the lovely @tokidokitokyo's book club, so you can't blame me!! 🥺 better to come clean late than never, right? 😅 that said, now i'm part of 2 book clubs and definitely not going insane hehe oopsie daisy~ 🌼)

😌 디노랑 명상

💸 personal finance class!

💌: 疲れた。お休み~　終わり。(i'm tired. good night~ the end.)

bonus: thank you @winryrockbellwannabe and @tokidokitokyo for tagging me in this game ☺️ i have a bit of a twist to mine: first is how my sister @pianistbynight / @studentbyday sees me and second is how i see myself 🥺

💞: @whenmemoriesfrost @hanabeeri @mochademic @perabera @ohyespotatous!

[aleyah-lavelle]

Skateboard 3

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: the sexual tension between the fml and the sabbath plss 🥹

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.

"What do you need from me again?" I said with annoyance.

Just as I expected, the Sabbath Crew was still here. Even after my conversation with Jay earlier about the assignment we were going to do together, they waited for me to finish. Joker was leaning against the car while Wooin stood beside him. Vinny and Grim were at the back of the car, seemingly indifferent to my presence.

Vinny and I made eye contact, so I gave him a sharp look in return. His gaze remained cold, so I looked away.

"Are you seriously considering joining that useless team?" Wooin asked irritably, hands tucked in his pockets. I crossed my arms in response.

"I don't see why you're so bothered about it," I retorted.

Since the day I arrived in Korea, Wooin was the first person I met here. He approached me first and shockingly, he already knew my name. That's why we ended up in a situation where I was going to sell my bike to him because he said he wanted to see it when we met again.

Wooin approached me with a swagger.  "I offered you a spot in our crew, but you turned it down. You'd rather side with Hummingbird?"

"They don't even compare to the Monsters," Joker muttered.

"I-I'm not really going to join," I looked at Vinny. "I just challenged Jay because I was bored. I already told you, I'm done with biking—"

"Do you think anyone will buy that lame excuse?" Vinny cut in, moving closer. "After all Wooin did for you, this is how you repay him?"

His words left me bewildered.

"Vinny," Grim scolded. I became even more confused.

"Your family owes some money to Sangho, right?" Wooin smirked evilly.

My face drained of color at the mention of that name, a figure my family had been evading for a long while. Fear was written all over me, but I struggled to maintain composure. How did they find out? Are they connected to him somehow? What kind of mess have I landed myself in now?

"H-How..."

"I've already settled it, Demitra," he murmured, drawing closer. "Just join us. Simple, isn't it?" He grinned, locking eyes with me. My heart raced, and I found myself fixated on his lips. Swallowing hard, I tried to snap out of it.

What's happening to me? I should be afraid of this man. Demitra, wake up! No matter how attractive these guys are, you shouldn't be easily swayed.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

"We know who you are, Demitra. The Famous Biking Princess of the Underground," Wooin continued, causing my face to pale even more as I stepped back.

"Korea's underground is better than your own country. Why not give it a try?" Wooin brushed aside a strand of hair blocking my face, tucking it behind my ear.

"You did a background check on me. What the heck?" I retorted, a mix of anger and disbelief in my voice.

He laughed. "You and Joker would definitely get along. He's into underground cage fights too," He gestured towards Joker, who was also watching me intently.

I was too angry to speak. I can't believe these guys. I don't know what they want from me, but there's one thing I need to worry about. They found out my identity that I've been avoiding for so long. Yes, they are not the only ones to become addicted to bikes; I did too. That's how I earned the title of Bike Princess in the underground because I used to take on challenges there. I raced against others for money, and obviously, I always won, which made my name famous back then.

But that's all in the past. I want to forget about it because my life wasn't great while I was in the underground. While I enjoyed spending my money, it came at the cost of my parents' suffering. I was immature back then, unaware that my parents owed a huge debt to a man named Sangho.

I shifted my gaze to Wooin. This man paid my parents' debt just like that. It was so simple for him.

I lowered my head, realizing I had no reason to be upset with someone who had helped me.

"Why do you want me to join your group when it's clear that some of your members don't agree?" I glanced at Vinny, who appeared affected by my words.

"I don't want you because you'll only make things worse for us," Vinny stated bluntly. "Some of them are getting too fixated on you."

Wooin and Joker both turned to look at Vinny almost at the same time. Their intense gazes made me feel flustered. My heart raced, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. Why would they be obsessed with someone like me?

"Hey," Joker warned Vinny.

"Shut up, you're into this too. Damn it," Vinny cursed.

"I-I'm sorry..." I bowed my head. They fell silent. "But I can't join your crew, not after what happened to me in the underground." My voice trembled, recalling the dark past. I felt the intense gazes of Wooin and Joker.

"But I'll do whatever you ask..." I tilted my head to meet Wooin's eyes directly. His gaze darkened, but he maintained a playful grin "In exchange for your help."

He nodded. "Get her in the car. We'll talk in a club. We'll discuss what happened to you back then--"

I interrupted Wooin. "I can't talk about that," I said abruptly. He furrowed his brow, waiting for more. "I know you have ties to Sangho."

"What has he done now?" Vinny asked impatiently.

Avoiding eye contact, I noticed Joker taking the skateboard from my hands. I looked up at him, finding his face void of emotion.

"Did he touch you?" he whispered. I quickly shook my head and hesitantly glanced at Wooin. They all watched me intensely, as if I were prey. Their looks stirred something within me. Joker and I weren't close—hell, he was practically a stranger to me. But the way he acted made it seem like we were close to each other.

"No," I replied. "But I've made some enemies in the underground. I had to escape because I knew they would kill me. I ran into dangerous people while racing. I believe they were also associated with Sangho." Heat rose in my eyes as I spoke.

Joker tensed up visibly. Grim shook his head and opened the car door. Vinny, on the other hand, seemed skeptical. Wooin's eyes held a hint of amusement.

"No one's going to touch you," Wooin approached me and gently held my neck down to my collarbone. "I've already taken responsibility for you. No one has the right to harm you; you belong to us now, whether you like it or not," he whispered huskily.

I met his gaze, and we locked eyes for a long moment. Why was someone like him helping me? Was it because of my biking skills? My breath quickened as I glanced down at his lips.

"Let's go. Stop teasing the girl, Wooin," Grim's voice broke the moment from the car.

"She's teasing me too, can't you see the look on her face?" Wooin replied playfully. Vinny shook his head and rode off on his bike. I parted my lips and lowered my gaze to my feet.

Vinny's discomfort had a strong impact on me, and I couldn't focus on what Wooin was saying. I knew he still held some resentment towards me. If he didn't want me to join their group, I wouldn't do it just for him. I didn't want to be part of their crew if Vinny wasn't comfortable with me being there.

"Don't worry, Demitra. Vinny will come around to liking you soon. Your beauty is irresistible," Wooin said, his tone playful and uncertain.

"I cannot join your crew, even if you say no one will hurt me. Vinny doesn't want me to be part of the Sabbath, and I don't want to upset him further,"

Wooin's expression suddenly changed, and Joker also looked at him. "And now he's making me furious. I will fucking kill him--"

"I'll go talk to him," Joker assured his friend. "I'll handle it."

"I don't believe it, you might just end up punching him," Grim said from inside the car.

"My decision is final," I said formally. "I will help you the best I can. You can ask me anything. I can also share my knowledge when it comes to racing," Wooin still looked frustrated.

"I still don't like this. We want you in our crew, can't you see that?" Wooin whispered. "If only I could mark you as ours. I want to protect you from those Hummingbird losers."

Wooin's words caught me off guard. I glanced at Joker to gauge his reaction, and both he and Grim seemed serious.

"This is nonsense. Why would a famous crew want me?"

"You might be surprised if I tell you," Wooin licked his lips, showing off his long and sharp tongue. "Let's just say I get turned on by watching videos of you racing. Damn, how can you be so good?"