#why i write diablo

[yellowocaballero]

ZAZIE/WOLFWOOD?!

AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YEAH.

It would have been dishonest to be too explicit about it so I just had to write them flirting and desperately hope that it would come through. If it didn't for somebody I don't blame them. Wolfwood doesn't show how he feels with words. He mostly just observes. Sometimes very aggressively.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but Zazie/WW had to happen. I struggled a shitton with the epilogue (this is a theme with this story), and I debated with myself a lot over if it was truly necessary. Eventually I had to decide that it was. This was partly because of Zazie - I felt as if they were a big loose end that I needed to explain ("What was up with what they did in the hidden city? How come they wanted WW to join the Gung Ho Guns? Where did Wolfwood get that gun? Were they helping Vash or Knives or what?"), and I didn't want to let Vash's story end on nothing more than a desperate desire. And I needed to prove the point that this was Wolfwood's story.

The gigantic barrier in the epilogue that sent it skidding to a halt was the fact that, basically, if Wolfwood saw Vash being ""besties"" with another twelve year old he would kill him or die trying. And there is no way he would ever, ever buy the amnesia story. Ever. So he had to get the amnesia story from a source that a) knew and knew for certain, b) had a reason for telling Wolfwood this, and c) that he trusted (kinda). Only Zazie made sense. So I had to figure out why Zazie would do that. Lots of reasons, for thematic and symbolic and foil reasons, but Zazie helps WW a lot, and why does WW trust him anyway, and...WELP. Romance: helpful for explaining irrationality.

The implication for me personally is that an essential trait of WW that persists across dimensions is that he's into aliens. Which. Sure. Why not.

The epilogue felt bizarre to write and read for a lot of reasons. Through Wolfwood's eyes, it's truly a different story. I don't think Knives understood how deeply Vash fucked Wolfwood up. Knives doesn't really see the consequences of his actions and his true impact. Good and bad. In many ways Knives was Wolfwood's Rem. That feels like...the final thing to me. A big thread through the story was "What is the impact of your actions?", because Knives and Vash had done things that had catastrophic impact that determined the future of humanity and Choices Have Consequences, but Knives lives based on creating the best impact and Vash lives based on following the best intentions without truly understanding the horrible impact (which is a big thing in Trigun itself). Wolfwood was the best way to show those impacts. And Knives leaving the impact of Rem on Wolfwood changed his life. It created a good person. Out of everybody, you know, Wolfwood deserved the chance to be a good person. I'm glad that the story worked out so he could have that. And date a bug person. Why not.

[respectthepetty]

I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

[ventique18]

Let me start with saying i love your blog really really much, this is something that has been rent free on my mind since Diasomia's arc started, is Malleus' father a dragon fae? I read the translations of chap 7 and i don't think i saw it mentioned, they just stayed vague on what kind of fairy he was, many fans started saying he was not a dragon, if that would be the case doesn't that mean Malleus is an half-blood!? The dragon bloodline isn't pure!?

Meleanor rejected many dragon suitors to marry the person she loved, whoever he was, why not say if Levan was a dragon or not, this is stressing me out. Especially since i saw the Crowley's theory.

Hi thank you so much for this question! I actually also wanted to address this, as I've seen some people (particularly on Twst EN Twitter and Reddit fandoms) who believe that the "Malleus is half Long because Levan is a Long" theory is canon. It's actually just one of the common theories which are:

He is a Long prince/noble.

He is simply a Raven fae. This is also why many believe that Levan is Crowley as both ravens and crows are collectively karasu in Japanese.

Let me put on a disclaimer that I'm leaning more on the theory that Levan might not necessarily be Crowley, but he is indeed a Bird Fae-- because his name does sound like Raven in the Japanese language, and the fact that Malleus' Platinum Jacket portrait has both Maleficent and her loyal raven Diablo in it. You are correct that there was never an explicit reveal on what he was though.

~ A short explanation on the first theory ~

So how did the first theory come to be? Because his official title in Briar Kingdom is 竜眼公 lit. Dragon Eye Lord. Some people have taken this literally and assumed that it means Levan is a dragon; more specifically, a Long. That's because the 竜 in his title is a kanji character and Twst happened to exactly distinguish in the Endless Halloween event an Asian Long 竜 (in kanji alphabet), and a western dragon ドラゴン (in katakana alphabet). Malleus specifies that he is a ドラゴン.

Now while theorizing that Levan is a Long is somewhat valid, it's less likely. Because a) it's common practice in Japanese to use kanji in formal titles and unusual to use katakana which is why ドラゴン was not used, which means b) Levan's "Dragon Eye Lord" title is just to indicate that he is Meleanor's eyes, as Lilia described him in the same chapter. This is also what Diablo's role is in the original movie.

~ Commenting on the theory that Levan is a Bird Fae ~

This is the most likely logical theory at this point, and you're correct that this means Malleus is half a dragon, half a bird. However, it's looking more and more like the fae are going with Mendel's Law of Inheritance with the Draconias' genes as extremely dominant that all other genes mixed in become recessive. Which means that while they're technically not pure-blooded dragons, the dragon genes will always appear in full view anyway so they might as well be pure. This is probably why Lilia mentions that the Draconias are "descended from dragons" rather than simply dragons. They may have varying fae species packed in their blood, but the dragon genes just completely cover them like a wallpaper lol.

Thanks so much for asking this! It was a fun write!

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Guy Crimson & Diablo ‐ Flirty Himbo Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Okay! So after many many months, I have rewatched 'That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime' so that I can finally write and post this ask. If I'm being completely honest I'm pretty sure Guy wouldn't be too affected by flirting. Diablo too, probably. I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you like this, I did my best. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋

👹 Well aren't you easy on the eyes. Consider this Primordial Demon Lord very interested. Guy can't help but wonder how in the world you're so muscular. He himself is quite physically fit, but you? Give him some tips will you, maybe you can work out together. Guy definitely won't mind the meal his eyes will be feasting on during that endeavor. Huh? Leon who? Not important at the moment, he's too busy getting an eye full of this hot ass man in front of him.

👹 Guy certainly noticed that you aren't the sharpest sword in the armory and he finds it kind of hot. Don't get him wrong, he likes having intelligent conversation with people, but the way that you look at him when you have absolutely no idea what he's staying just does things to him. Guy can't really explain it too well, but having a handsome empty-headed boyfriend to go to in his free time is wonderful way to take a break.

👹 Your lack of intellect also has him assuming that you don't actually mean the words that you say in they way that he interprets them. Guy doesn't think that you understand quite how much he's holding himself back from doing as he pleases with you. Usually he just watches you in amusement as you "tease" him, chuckling at how truly bold you were to behave in this way towards Guy of all people.

👹 I don't believe that Guy is the flirting type. He's a strait foreword guy so even if a wild himbo appears and starts to flirt, he would get his message across pretty easily, no flirting needed. If he's interested, which in this case he would be, you would definitely know. To be honest, Guy wouldn't be fazed... Like, at all; considering how direct he is with Leon about how he's down to fuck. He would be really happy that someone that he thought was interesting was reciprocating for once, though.

👹 You want to do him favors? Why? Guy has maids and underlings for something like that. However, he just chalks it up to being your love language and just let's you do simple things that he could easily do on his own. Like getting him something to eat or grabbing him that book off the shelf over there. Your his boyfriend, Guy's not really keen on sending you away to deal with anything major, he'll do that on his own.

💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋

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🦇 Ah? Why hello there, handsome sir. Aren't you a sight for this primordial demon lord's eyes. Give him a little twirl so he can get a better look at you. But Diablo is a gentleman, so he will only permit himself to look respectfully. Very intensly; but respectfully. You don't mind, do you? Diablo really can't keep his gaze away no matter how hard he fights it. So forgive him, okay?

🦇 So you're a bit on the dim side? That's okay! Diablo will sit you down and describe anything you need him to in heavy detail. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything at all, he'll take care of it for you. Anything for you! Diablo wouldn't want you to think too hard, now. He doesn't want you to strain yourself. Just let him serve you as he does Lord Rimuru.

🦇 Now, Diablo knows he's handsome. It's not hard to understand considering the lingering gazes he gets from many people on the daily. However, this poor primordial demon lord was not prepared when the handsome man he had his eyes on started to flirt with him. Diablo couldn't help but be flustered; it was you who was showering him with compliments and innuendos instead of the other way around, after all.

🦇 While Diablo is a gentleman, he can certainly lay it on thick with the words of affirmation and occasional innuendos, but only when it comes to you. I like to think that he'd only return the favor in a private setting, he has an image to uphold. Such uncouth behavior is unbecoming of a butler like himself. But in all honesty, Diablo can let loose some raunchy shit when the time is right; the shit that comes out of this man's mouth could make even Guy Crimson blush a little.

🦇 No. He will not allow you to do any tasks or favors for him, that's his job; Diablo lives to serve and serving you is no exception. However, he will let do a few of the smaller tasks with him if you continue to insist. Acts of service are his love language so he prefer to do everything on his own, but if you sit him down and explain it to him Diablo will give you very small and simple things to do whenever he can.

💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋•♡•💋

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[slasherx]

Hey 👋🏽

Can you do the Sinclair twins with a female s/o who was like in a relationship before they killed their father and she left town but like years later they found her again and like kidnaped her so they can be together again

Ooo Diablo you always come up with the most scrumptious ideas *rubs hands together evilly*

Content: Bo SInclair x fem!Reader, Vincent SInclair x fem!Reader (separate)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Bo slaps you across the face

Notes: My first time writing Bo and second time writing Vincent...I hope I did okay!

• ───────────────── •

❥Bo Sinclair

Bo found you in a grocery store in the next town over. When had you come back to Louisiana? He remembers the day you broke up with him - you were going out of state to college and didn't want to do long distance with him.

So much has changed since then. He's changed so much since then. He waited for you to check out, then abandoned any cart or food he hand in his hands to follow you out to your car. Luckily you parked in the back so nobody saw him knock you out and drag you to his car, which also coincidentally wasn't far from yours.

Stuffing you in the back seat, he used the seatbelts to tie your hands up and began driving back home. When he arrived there, he called for Vincent to help him bring you in. Vincent was surprised to find you instead of groceries in the backseat. He signed to Bo, "What is this?"

"Well it damn sure ain't groceries, Vince. Now help me get her up to my room."

Vincent cringed at that but decided to help him anyway. He held you by your ankles and Bo held you by your wrists as they brought you upstairs, where Bo promptly tied you to the bed. He shooed Vincent out of his room before sitting next to you.

You looked so peaceful, and in his deranged mind he thought you knew he was with you, and thats why you seemed so peaceful. Smiling, Bo leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Welcome back home, darlin."

You woke up shortly after, in a familiar room, but not one you thought you'd see ever again. It didn't help that Bo was sitting right next to you. "Bo...? What...?"

You tried to move but the restraints wouldn't allow you. The situation settled into your brain - you were in Bo's room, and you couldn't move. The last thing you remember is being at the grocery store, loading your groceries into your car. You had been kidnapped, and Bo was your captor.

"Bo, let me go." You looked at him.

"Sorry sweetheart. I can't really do that."

"Bo let me go now!" You thrashed against your restraints.

"Its no use darlin. I let you go before but, after some careful consideration I realized I never wanna let you go again. So, now you're back here, with me and Vinny and Lester! Ain't that great?" Bo got close to you, a smile spread on his face.

You spat in his face. Bo then promptly slapped you across the face out of reflex. "Now darlin I'm sorry for slappin you, but you need to re-learn some manners it seems. College ruined you, but it's okay. I'm a patient man, we can figure this out."

"What are you talking about?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

"I'm talking about how you're mine forever. Your place is here, in Ambrose, beside me. I want no other woman, Y/n." Bo caressed your face.

"You're fucking crazy."

"For you." Bo smiled again.

• ───────────────── •

❥Vincent Sinclair

Bo had called for him from the upstairs level, something he rarely does unless there's people. Begrudgingly he left his sketchbook on the table and came upstairs.

"I got somethin for you." Bo grinned. "I think you'll really like it."

His brother led him out to his truck, and when he opened the back seat, he saw a person laying there. But not just any person, it was you. You who he had lost when your family decided to move out of Ambrose years ago.

He never forgot you. In fact, he hadn't been with anyone else since you had left. He'd always had a feeling you would come back. But, he felt bad that this was how you'd been brought back to him. He had hoped the attraction would open up Ambrose again and you would come back, just like you said you would.

He signed a thank you to Bo and immediately started to pull you out of his truck. Bo watched quizzically, not bothering to help just yet. When Vincent had pulled you out of the truck, he didn't account for your upper half and you promptly slid to the ground.

Bo hissed between his teeth. "That's gonna hurt. Need some help getting her downstairs?"

Vincent nodded, and the brothers uncharacteristically worked together to bring you downstairs. Bo helped tie you up to his bed and then gave Vincent a pat on the back. "Do what you want with her, but wrap it up, if you know what I mean."

Vincent rolled his eye at his brothers implications. Bo just patted his shoulder and then turned to leave. As he left, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you looked around. You were in a familiar place, but not a place you'd been to in some years.

Seeing movement, your eyes focused onto the man before you. You instantly recognized him. "Vincent?"

He nodded. You moved to try to hug him, but the restraints kept you in place. You then realized what was happening. You had been kidnapped, and Vincent was keeping you here. Your expression turned sad. You never thought your Vinny could be capable of something like this.

"Vinny..."

"Its okay," he signed. "I'll take care of you, and you don't have to do anything in return."

"Take care of me? Vinny, this isn't a permanent thing, I have to get back to my family."

"You are family. You are mine. I won't let you go again. Ever." He got closer to you as he signed.

"Vincent, you cannot keep me here forever." You tried to keep your soft tone but you were beginning to freak out as the reality set in.

"Watch me."

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[viking-raider]

Geeks in Love - Cotton Candy Fluff

Summary: You have a secret skill that Henry doesn't know about, but finally decided to present to him, in a thoughtful way.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Soft!Henry, Fluff, Geeks, Supportive Relationship, Shady Mother, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Warhammer, Sneaking, Secretive Behavior, Hidden Skills, Cuddles, Kissing, Gifts, Surprises

Inspiration: This video on Instagram and Henry Cavills Warhammer 40k obsession.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

Henry cocked a brow at his computer monitor as he watched your fourth sneak into his office/man cave, in the last hour. You tiptoed behind him, casting side eyes at him, as you went up to the display shelf the Warhammer 40k minis he had painted were sitting on. Standing there for a moment, trying to act casual, you'd pick one of them up and slowly turn your upper body away from him for a minute or two, before delicately putting the figure back in its place and scurrying out of the room.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to trying out Diablo IV. Until, about twenty minutes later, he caught your figure out of the corner of his eye and a smirk spread across his lips. He listened to the soft creaks of the floorboards beneath your creeping toes, while watching your reflection in his monitor.

You picked up yet another one of Henry's minis.

“What are you doing, babe?” He asked, as you put the piece back, startling the life out of you and making himself chuckle.

“Nothing.” You panted, pressing a hand to your thundering heart.

“You've come in here five times, in the last hour, and haven't said a peep to me.” Henry pointed out, smirking.

“I'm sorry.” You cooed, moving over to him. “How's your game going?” You asked, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and gazing at his screen.

“It's going great, thank you.” He answered, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “But that doesn't answer my question, my love.” He purred, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Why are you peeking at my Warhammer Minis?”

A shy and guilty smirk crossed your lips and you quickly hid it in Henry's shoulder. “It's not finished yet.” You confessed against his skin.

“What isn't?” Henry frowned, shaking his head and leaning back in his gaming chair.

“Give me two more days.” You answered, raising your head to look him in the eyes.

A shallow crease formed between Henry's brows, but he nodded his head, trusting you. “All right.” He purred, but didn't let you go as you made to get up out of his lap, holding onto you for a short time longer.

Two days later, you guided Henry into the dining room, your heart pounding with excitement for what you had to show him, but your hands jittered with nerves that he wouldn't like it. On the dining table sat something covered by a throw blanket that was usually on the back of the couch. You motioned Henry to it, biting the corner of your lip, as he slowly pulled the blanket off.

“I know how it's been driving you crazy, since you finally finished painting your Custodes, that they've been falling over, with the slightest bump of the shelf.” You started to explain in a bubble of anxiety. “So, I decided to make them a little stand.” You pointed to the object he uncovered.

It was several tiered stands, stained nicely, that had lightly padded wells with a finger groove, for every one of Henry's painted minis to comfortably sit inside of. Henry looked it over, his mouth slightly ajar at the craftsmanship you had put into it, unaware you could make something like this, and felt a hard tug on his heart that you had done something so thoughtful for his geeky hobby.

“So, this is why you kept sneaking into my office the other day?” He asked, looking back at you, his handsome face soft with disbelief and love.

“Yeah.” You nodded at him, excited to see he clearly loved it. “I was measuring the stands, so I knew how big to make the sockets for them to sit inside of. Some of them are bigger than others, and I was taking extra measurements.” You explained to him, moving around to the side of the table, picking something off the chair. “I even made you a little box to put them in. So, if maybe, you ever wanted to take them somewhere with you, they had a protective case.”

“The stands fit in it”

He slotted the stands into the box that had the Custodes logo, his name, as well as one of his favorite quotes. “We die, though our war is eternal, We are doomed, but we walk in darkness, We are forgotten, yet the future is our gift to humanity.” He read aloud, then looked at you.

“Why didn't I know you were so good with woodworking and power tools?”

“When my mom found out you were interested in me, she told me to keep it to myself.” You confessed, looking down at your hands. “Because it's unladylike to know how to wield power tools and build something, like a guy. That you, a rich, successful and hot celebrity, would be turned off by it.” You told him, feeling your cheeks heat up and your eyes burn a little bit at recalling the conversation.

Henry felt a hot stab in his gut, angry at your mother for thinking such a thing of him. “What finally made you decide to show me this side of you?”

“Well,” You rasped, biting your lip for a moment. “I already have you, don't I?” You tried to make light, offering him a weak smile. “But, you did.” You told him, gulping. “You're so comfortable showing your skills, no matter what they are, geeky or otherwise. I finally felt comfortable enough to let go and show this part of myself, to show you the skill that I learned from my dad growing up.”

“This is how I wanted to do it, by making something for your precious minis.”

Henry pulled you against him. “I love it so much, babe.” He smiled, kissing you. “I am proud that you stopped listening to your mum and made it with your own two hands. You know, skills like that would have never turned me off. I find it incredible that you can do something like this.” He said motioning to the piece.

“I'll treasure it forever. Just like I will you.”

“That's a relief.” You giggled, pressing your cheek to his chest, feeling better that you didn't have to hide something you enjoyed from him anymore.

“I'm going to put my minis up!” He said, letting go of you and grabbing the box, before rushing into his office, making you giggle with joy.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

edgar allen poe + twst??

***Spoilers for book 7 part 4!!***

In the latest main story update, Lilia tells us about the princess of the Briar Valley (ie Malleus’s mom) and a fae messenger that went to an human fortress to the east (Malleus’s dad). If you’ll recall, Malleus tells us in present day (in his Birthday Boy vignettes) that his “only living relative” is his grandmother, which implies his parents are gone. The update leaves us on a cliffhanger where Lilia and co. are at the eastern fortress while the humans are launching a surprise attack on the palace where Malleus’s mother resides. It is very possible that she will die as a result of this encounter (for as powerful as she is, the humans greatly outnumber her). His father had gone missing prior to this while going to deliver a message to the humans. It is not confirmed if he is dead or just… missing at the moment.

Both Malleus’s mom and dad are referred to by name, but the fandom is finding it difficult to settle on one variation until an official English localization of book 7 comes out. “Mallenoa” appears to be the commonly accepted term for Malleus’s mom, whereas “Levan/Revan” is for his dad.

Well… what if we looked at the works of Edgar Allen Poe?? More specifically, at the two poems Lenore and The Raven? 🤔 Stay with me here—

The first poem, Lenore, was written by Poe to cope with his wife Virginia contracting tuberculosis. It speaks of the passing of a young woman (Lenore), and those who mourn for her. Important to note is that Lenore is described as “the queenliest dead that ever died so young”.) Her intended is not crying at the funeral, so others accuse him of not caring for his now deceased fiancé. He counters by claiming the other mourners are the ones who never really cared for her. The poem finished with Lenore’s husband-to-be saying that she is in a better place now than this “damned earth”.

What does this have to do with Malleus’s mom? Look at how her name is written in TWST JP (the two characters that follow the name refer to her title):

Now notice how Lenore is written. All of the characters match except the missing first one (which is understandable, since that is the “Malle”/“Mare” part missing). I confirmed this by typing in “Mallenore”; the end result was the exact same writing as how Malleus’s mom’s name is written in game.

Knowing that Mallenoa is in a dangerous situation that puts her life at risk and Lenore is a poem all about someone who has passed... PLUS Lenore is a woman who is described as “the queenliest dead”, and Mallenoa is the princess of Briar Country, destined to be queen one day... AND how their names are written matching up, it’s possible that “Mallenoa” will be localized as “Mallenore”.

But what about Malleus's dad? Well, I see two possibilities: "Levan" could be a reference to "levin" or lightning (something which Maleficent is associated with) OR it could be "Revan", which is just raven with the vowels swapped around. (It's difficult to know for sure which one would be "more" correct, as the /r/ and /l/ sounds tend to blend together in Japanese.) As we all know, Maleficent is also known for Diablo, her pet raven. Levan/Revan also serves a very similar role as Diablo did for Maleficent to his wife and princess (ie he advised her and acted as her right-hand man; hence why he was the one who departed for the diplomatic trip).

Edit: TWST EN has confirmed that the official localization for Malleus's dad's name is "Raverne". Back to Lenore for a moment, Levan/Revan could be filling in for the role of the upset husband-to-be. Thinking about it, after his wife has died (and assuming he is still alive at that point), the world really would be like a "damned earth" to him. His wife is gone, his country in tatters because of how the human invaders have ravaged it, etc. And worse yet, if he is fae himself then it will be years and years before he is able to rejoin his wife in death.

This brings us to The Raven, which was published 2 years after Lenore and serves as a sort of companion piece to it. The Raven refers to a creature that visits an unnamed man, who laments the loss of his love, Lenore. (Note that even though the same name is used here, it’s not clear if this Lenore is the exact same as the one in Lenore.) The bird continuously antagonizes the mourning man and drives him to madness, reflecting the poem’s sentiment that lingering grief can interfere with one’s ability to live in the present. The Raven, then, is said to be the spirit or presence of Lenore paying a visit to her lover and/or “haunting” him.

The Raven doesn’t have parallels as clear as the ones between Lenore and Mallenoa—however, the motif of the raven itself would match up with what we know of Diablo. “The Raven” is a bird that refuses to leave the mourning man’s home no matter which room he goes to. This could refer to the relationship between Malleus’s parents, between princess and her trusted aide that follows her like a shadow. Alternatively, since the mourning man is Lenore’s lover, this could be foreshadowing. It could mean that Levan/Revan (again, assuming he is still alive by the time his wife dies) will be deeply affected by his wife’s passing.

All of the canon details and stuff aside, this makes some sense thematically if we think about Poe’s general themes. He often talks about death and the loss of loved ones, both of which are major themes in book 7 and now, as we can see, in the history of Briar Country.

So 👁️ 👄 👁️ in conclusion, you should read Edgar Allen Poe… 👉👈

ADDENDUM: HER OFFICIAL NAME IS MELEANOR, BOYS... We were so close...

[limepigeon]

Fallen Hero Fanzine 2024 - Info and Theme Poll

All info is under the cut since I don't want to clutter your dash too much! EDIT: Tumblr hates multiple choices for Polls apparently, you can vote but also write in replies (or send anonymous through dm, but please don't send multiple of the same option to get what you want, let's keep it fair!) if you want to vote for more than one option! (Sorry for the inconvenience!)

Hi everyone!

Since I got the feedback on the interest check for a possible Fallen Hero Fanzine it seems like we have some interest and I’ve been looking into various ways we could do this. As I’m big on collaboration and everyone getting a say, I was thinking that deciding on a theme for the zine could be our first collaborative step.

I’ve made a poll (found further down in this post) with 7 options for you to vote on. Descriptions/explanations are found right below the poll so make sure to read those before casting your vote. We’re keeping this first zine sfw, please keep that in mind if suggesting themes of your own. Voting doesn’t tie you to contributing to the zine.

Jumping into something headfirst without knowing what you’ll find on the other side is scary, that’s why I’ve written a short list of what I have in mind for this zine.

The zine will be 100% free and non-profit, this also means no compensation for the contributors. Theme: TBD through majority vote Number of contributors: Max 30 (I would love to have more but, unless someone can help me with admin stuff, I think that’s my limit for how much organising and planning I can do on my own). Rating: SFW. Innuendos, cursing, violence and the like is okay but not straight up sex. Format: Digital/e-zine, with permission to print at home for personal use only. I will put together a bonus version made for easy to print at home, with instructions for how to assemble it. Media types allowed: Any visual media suited for print as long as it’s your own (e.g. illustrations, sketches, photography, collages, short comics, cosplay etc). Keep in mind that if you make a collage or mood board, all pictures must be your own (or have the rights to). Any writing as long as it’s your own (e.g. short stories, poetry, analyses, personal anecdotes etc). Pages in zine per contributor: 2. Time frame and deadlines: TBD but I plan on us having it finished around September/October of 2024, with some reservations.

I hope this has been informative so far, if you have questions you can either reply to this post (so everyone else can see the question and reply), or dm me if you want to be anonymous.

Now, let’s get to voting on a theme! Descriptions for themes under the poll.

Nemesis - More action focused, showdowns, heroes and villains battling it out in their suits! Some softer moments could fit in here as well but if too many opt towards it I might steer some of the submissions to make sure the zine in whole stays on theme. Coming Home - New beginnings, finding your place. It could be sweet and cozy, finding friends, or stepping into your own skin for the first time. Interpret as you like, but the main focus should be on the concept of “home”, whatever that means to you or the characters you choose to portray. Los Diablos - Snippets and snapshots from the city and lives you are sworn to protect or destroy. HG’s lair, Herald’s apartment, or a sewer (sorry, secret base), as well as the people found in these places. Nightmares - The bad vibes (tm) one. The Heartbreak Incident, decanting, paranoia, all the nasty bits you don’t want people to find. This one is open to more possible body horror than the other themes. Ship specific - Pick this one if you want a more romance focused theme, and specify in replies which characters you’d want in centre. Please write Ship Theme before the characters in your reply. I have another idea! - Got an idea for a theme that isn’t in the poll? Pick this one and specify in replies what it is! Please specify even if someone has the same idea, or close to, as you. Please write Theme Suggestion before the theme in your reply. No theme - Don’t feel like sticking to a theme? Want to create an amalgamation of everyone’s mind stuff without any limits or guidelines? This choice is for you.

[fic-heaven]

The three fools

Random trope: You break up with them

Unedited/ mentions of homophobia/ cheating/ angst/ violence/ family drama

🐥I've watched too many reddit stories and needed to write sum succulent angst~😩

.

Gustavo Rodríguez (Gus)

-You broke up with Gustavo because he was more in love with his ambitions than he ever was with you.

-You had loved and supported him through everything his entire life, his passion for surf, his unbreakable love for his family, his silliness, his slight awkwardness on the first few dates you two had...

-But the day an eighteen year old Gus told you about this retired US Marine he met while giving surfing classes to some tourists your whole relationship changed.

-You loved him and he loved you. But suddenly the idea of protecting Costa Rica at it's entirety from cartel and to later protecting the whole world... Made Gustavo's love for you lessen as his heart focused mainly on his new dream of saving lives. Or at least that's how you felt it...

-Seeing him daily on the beach turned into three days a week, later one single day a week and soon it became a miracle. Oh but that was only when he was a cop... Once he got the chance to become more, a higher ranked officer with more responsibilies in another city?

-Gus went home that day (you two lived together then because of an ugly fight about him barely being in your life anymore) he was eager to tell you all about this new job and the excitement he radiated brought a weak smile on your face. You loved his passion, but you dreaded his absence...

-He said you guys had to move cities for this job and you straight up said "no." After a very heated argument about his job, about the life and family you were leaving behind because of HIS ambitions... You told him he should feel free to leave.

-"There's no one I love more than you." You said.

-"Then come. Support me like you've always done! If I'm so important to you, mi amor... Why don't you please, PLEASE, come with me!? Cómo diablos is this going to work if I don't have you by my side!?"

- "I stopped being important to you the moment that American planted the seed of a new dream on your brain, Gus... Now answer me. Would you pick your dream over our future together?"

-That wasn't fair. He went silent, his lower lip quivering under his moustache. He tried blinking the tears away, big hands flexing on the rails of your porch.

-"I'll pack your stuff and send it to your mom's. Good luck on this new job, osito... I knew you could make it... I always have faith in you and I know you will do better for this country and wherever you go."

-The way Gus looks at you with betrayal and heartbreak written all over his glossy amber eyes will haunt you forever. And yet... You spent so many nights grieving his absence that breaking up with him now felt... Inevitable..."

-"Pero yo te amo, princesa-" He choked out in a sob, he was trembling, legs giving up under his weight until he dropped on his knees not caring if any neighbors saw you and the scene unfolding on your porch.

-"I want to marry you... I want to see the world with you..." Gus cried, voice cracking constantly in desperation, his long lashes wet as fat tears ran across his face. It was such a heartbreaking sight you felt like you were dying.

-"Don't make this more difficult than it already is Gus..."

-And with that, you closed the door behind you leaving a broken man on your doorstep.

-Soon his father and sister came to collect Gustavo's things without saying a word to you, his dad did look at you in sorrow clearly saddened by how things had turned. And his sister? After collecting everything and before leaving she slapped you across the face and that was the last interaction you had with his family.

Enzo Reyes (Reyes)

-You left Reyes because he betrayed your heart.

-You two met when you were transfered from KorTac to SpecGru.

-You couldn't stand each other but eventually with much help from your two mutual friends and coworkers, Reyes relented on being an asshole and you actually started to enjoy his annoying self.

-A few months passed being friends until you confessed and to your surprise he voiced his reciprocation. Though you never felt like it was sincere enough.

-One year together and the fights you used to have at the beginning returned. It came as a surprise, how irritable this man had become from one day to the other... It worried you.

-So you did what you tried to avoid doing ever since the pointless fights begun. You gave Reyes an ultimatum, and he laughed like it was the funniest joke, like he didn't believe you had the courage to leave him over how irritable he had gotten.

-You felt like someone had kicked you in the gut, it suddenly hit you that perhaps you truly were at fault here. That perhaps he was right, that you were seeing too much Into things and were being unfair, that you had to accept how your lover was.

-Enzo didn't seem as tense after seeing you less reactive to his sudden bursts of anger and weeks later, the Canadian could feel nothing but pity for you and shame on himself.

-He told you this while being drunk as a Dane. Though he never really explained why, you thought he felt ashamed for treating you wrongly and that wasn't far from the truth.

-The reality was, Enzo started feeling bad about the affair he was hiding behind your back.

-Half a year into your relationship he had met this beautiful civilian girl who worked on a mall near the base and lived closer to his apartment. At first they just shared small talk as he was a regular at the coffee shop she ran, but soon he invited her to his apartment and many outings together (while you were off on missions too far to know what was happening) they begun having intercourse. It wasn't serious, just a quick fuck and she'd be gone.

-What Reyes realized when you celebrated your one year anniversary was that he had started craving her touch so often while you guys were working or at base together it made him lash out to you for the stupidest of reasons. That's why he felt shame. Not because he was cheating on you, but because he couldn't keep his composure.

-The fool thought he actually had enough reasons to cheat on you and promised himself that if you were to find out he'd straight up admit it and excuse himself. Because you'd understand, right?

-So one day you two sat on the old couch of the base, his arm wrapped around you while you scrolled through his gallery reminiscing in old memories Reyes had captured and held on lovingly on multiple albums on his phone. But something picked your attention.

-There was an album called "her". He didn't name it after you, that's weird...

-But when you pressed to open it he was too late to make you unsee what you saw. There were tons of nudes and videos of himself and some other woman you have never seen. You were silent thinking at first that perhaps this was his ex and these were old pictures he had forgotten to delete... But looking at Reyes... He was already explaining the cheating like he was talking about his gym routine.

-You stand up then and he takes his phone from your hands with a quick snatch and a carefully put neutral expression.

-Enzo rolled his eyes thinking he'd have to endure your temper tantrum but thought it was fair since you always seemed to endure his.

-Instead, you whispered with a constricting throat: "I'm sure she's worth it, Reyes." You never called him by his last name and he didn't like this broken side of you one bit. "Good luck."

-"Sure. Call me when you stop crying so we can talk this like real adults, we could even go on dates together. Wouldn't that be nice?" He smirked and you were gone.

-Reyes though you'd be okay by the end of the week but he never saw you again.

-His world crumbled on his shoulders when one of the other operators casually mentioned that you had gotten transfered once more.

-Safe to say, he had broken things off with the civilian girl and begun his incessant search of where exactly you had been transfered to. He wasn't going to let you go that easily.

Nila Brown (Nova)

- You left Nova because of her family.

-Your relationship with Nova was perfect, she was sincere, loving, caring and protective of you.

-But her family never took your relationship seriously, often calling you her "little friend" and her "Rebellious phase." That was when you two were teenagers. But she was a thirty year old woman now and they kept calling you that.

-You two had a little apartment near her base, you worked in a flower shop while she was dealing with cartel, terrorists of any kind and any danger imaginable around the world. It was a very contrasting match but you two were just like jelly and butter.

-Due to her work, to say you were worried about your girlfriend was an understatement.

-You often spent most Fridays on her brother's house, her little nieces and nephews always loved to see you and spend time with you when her brother and his wife went out. Of course you did it for free, they never fully treated you like family but you'd get there! You were sure of it! Still, it stung that... Almost twelve years had passed and there wasn't even a picture of you on the wall of any of her relative's houses. But you weren't going to give up.

-You couldn't fathom on how many more years you had to spend with your loving girlfriend to call her your wife and be part of the family. Often thinking that perhaps when she proposes to you then her family will start looking at you with different eyes.

-You two had briefly talked about marriage before but it seemed a topic she wasn't comfortable on approaching. You were sure it was because of the "light" homophobic mentality of Nila's parents but wasn't your love worth fighting for?

-Then an idea popped up.

-Maybe you had to show her how truly in love with her you were, how after eleven years formally together you were more than ready and willing to step up and marry her.

-You had your mother's ring your father had given you years after her passing because he was convinced (and very right) that you'd love to propose to Nova with it.

-You knew it had to be now or never. So you spent weeks preparing a wonderful surprise for your girlfriend.

-When she came back from a long mission you had planned a beautiful dinner at your father's restaurant. He had placed a table on the garden you arranged yourself while the rest of the family hid behind some bushes.

-Nova was crying overjoyed by the beautiful date you had surprised her with totally clueless that her family had picked on your intentions of proposing when your father messaged them to come and support your union. They went bananas.

-When you finished dinner you had given Nova a beautiful speech of how lucky you felt for getting to spend so many years by her side and how you wished to make it official before you took your mother's ring and got on one knee in front of her.

-Her beautiful milky cheeks went red, eyes teary with so many emotions she struggled to keep her sobs low. She was nodding eagerly, her trembling hands reaching out your way so you'd slide the ring on her finger.

-Your family cheered you two, your father and aunt going so emotional they couldn't keep their cameras still so they could film the moment perfectly. Your father actually was a little upset that Nova's family was arriving late but he didn't voice it out as he thought they'd be on time for the celebration. Your family was clueless of how cruel and disgusting your girlfriend's family behaved around you two because you didn't have the gal to tell them.

-They found out pretty quickly though. Because as soon as your family approached you two, Nova's mother rushed with this crazed look on her eyes and snatched the ring off of her daughters finger, Nova was horrified, her father soon following after along with her brother picking up a fight with your confused father who tried to calm everyone down even though he was clueless of what the issue was.

-You were stupefied as Nova's family had the balls to put up a fight with anyone on their way because they couldn't stand her daughter saying yes to you. A woman. Her childhood best friend. Her "little secret" and her "personified rebellious stage."

-You cried as your supposed to be mother in law smacked you, scratched you and cursed you out in front of your family and girlfriend while you tried to take back the ring of your mother she had firmly tried to steal from you.

-Nova did absolutely nothing seemingly torn between her family's approval and the wellbeing of her fiance. The sight of you bloodied and in tears as you were attacked by the woman who raised her had broken something inside her, her heart beating so fast she could barely hear your pleas and cries for her to intervene. Nova knew then that any field of battle was far more preferred than the beautiful garden where your proposal had taken place filled with your families fighting for and against your union.

-Your aunt had pushed the old woman off of you and had taken you inside while Nova did nothing but feel guilty as her parents scolded her instead of following behind you. She was in shock, she couldn't react and that'd be a regret she'll carry for the rest of her life.

-As it turns out, your father had kicked Nova's family from the restaurant and promised to file a report to the police if they were to come back or try to touch you in any way.

- Nova's mother had stepped on your mother's ring before your aunt could help you, breaking the beautiful gemstone to pieces... You then decided to spend some time at your father's.

-You didn't hear a word from Nova until two weeks later. She tried to call you many times during those weeks but you didn't pick up until you decided to meet with her at your workplace with your aunt because you were afraid she'd show up with any of her relatives.

-Nova was a wreck, she had bags under her eyes, she looked more tired than usual, more tired than when she came back from any long mission. She teared up when she saw you arranging the cash register. You couldn't even look at her.

-When she begun talking to you, pleading to fix things and begging for your forgiveness you sighed still looking downwards.

-"I've known you for more than a decade. I had loved you unconditionally even when your family verbally attacked and humiliated me and you did nothing to stop them only making excuses after excuses." You were perplexed you could even say this without breaking down. Your girlfriend cried biting down her lip to contain her sobs. "But that night changed everything..."

-You were a husk. A shell of the woman she loves, like what happened had robbed you of your kind, cheerful spirit, like you were dead in life.

-"And I'm afraid... You can't do nothing to repair my broken heart."

-The moment your trembling fingers placed the broken ring of your mother on the counter Nila covered her mouth with her hand horrified at the sight letting out a soft "B-baby..." Falling from her quivering lips. She felt nauseous, like she was about to throw up and you actually had to rush to lay her on the floor because she was loosing balance.

-Your aunt had rushed in when she saw what was happening and your now ex lay passed out on the ground.

-You two drove to the apartment you two used to share, placed her on your bed and called her brother. Your aunt told you to leave, willing to put up with the uncomfortable encounter but you refused.

-To your surprise her brother showed up with a somber look. Almost like his sister's. He sat on the couch when Nova had woken up and tried to drink some water. He couldn't look at you and you couldn't look at none of them.

-"I'm sorry." He said. But you stayed silent.

-"I love you..." Nova blurted as soon as she spot you. You were standing up then, you gave her a short glance, took your aunt's hand and went to your door. "Goodbye Nils. I'll grab my things tomorrow."

[bandzboy]

Perhaps we could organize a letter-writing campaign to KQ and to Diablo's company? To get some sort of apology and to get them to address the situation.

I don't know much about Don Diablo or what his company is. But looking at KQ? It might be easier to deal with them since they are smaller than say, HYBE. And if we can get KQ as a company to make a statement, it could cause a helpful domino effect to bigger companies.

I just feel that, with the message of previous Ateez songs (particularly The World series), and how that lore is so integral to why many fans like them, I think Atiny could pull this off. We just have to get organized and work together.

well there is an email template that was provided by atiny for palestine

here

there’s an english version and a korean version that was translated by an online translator so that translated one is not corrected yet at the moment

[ladamedusoif]

Provenance

A Gentleman Thief x F!Museum Professional Reader Story

Part of the HCU (Heritage Crimes Universe) - click for masterlist

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x F!Museum Professional Reader

Summary: Two months after their reunion, the museum curator finds herself on an unexpected Parisian adventure. 

Content warnings: Smut; Oral sex (F receiving); unprotected but safe PiV sex; discussion of contraception; alcohol consumption; angst; discussion of illegal acquisition of stolen objects during WW2; (ethical) heritage crimes; theft; sort-of fluff; no physical description of Reader beyond her professional attire, though she has a nickname (chérie).

Rating: E (18+ MDNI)

Word count: ~7,500

A/N: They're back! The Thief is just too charming to resist. A follow-up to My Kiss, Only For You and Reunions.

I am no longer using a taglist: please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up to date with my work.

The package is, unmistakably, a book. Wrapped in brown paper, a neatly-typed address label affixed to the front. No return address. 

It’s pretty explicitly addressed to you, though. Right down to the department. You rack your brain, trying to remember whether you’d ordered something and forgotten. Or maybe it’s a gift?

You slip it out of the wrapping carefully. The dust jacket design suggests it’s from the 1950s, 1960s at the latest, but it’s in impeccable condition. 

The Museums of Paris: A Guide

The front cover features a photo of the Louvre, the facades still soot-blackened before their cleaning in the later part of the twentieth century, with beautifully-dressed tourists milling around the old entrance to the museum. 

Before you can leaf through the book, seeking a receipt or gift card or invoice of some kind, your desk phone rings. The museum director. And they want to speak to you: now. 

***

“We’ve had an…unusual request.”

You slip into the old leather chair opposite the director’s desk, covered in papers and catalogues. “An unusual request?”

She takes off her dark-framed glasses and smiles. “One of our major donors. They’re potentially about to buy some important art objects from a private Parisian collector, and we are hoping that - in time - they might donate them to us.”

“Okay…”

“But they don’t feel entirely confident appraising the collection without expert guidance.”

You nod slowly. 

The director looks at you as if she’s waiting for the penny to drop. 

“They want you to go to Paris with them, as an expert consultant. They will pay for all your expenses, travel, per diems - the lot.”

You just about manage to stop your jaw falling open. 

“Um…why me? I’m not one of the senior curators or object specialists, maybe they…”

She holds up a perfectly-manicured hand. “Stop there. The donor has explicitly requested you. They believe you are the best equipped to manage their needs on this job.”

“Uh… okay. So, when do I leave?”

She grins. “Two days’ time. And bring some decent clothes - you know how formal some of the French collectors can be.”

As you return to the office, a sensual memory flashes through your brain. Velvet, the colour of good Burgundy wine. Soft lips, coarse beard. Warm bodies pressed together. The most intense orgasm you’ve had in years, maybe ever.

It couldn’t be, surely. It was almost two months since that night and there’d been no missive, no note, nothing. The director said “them”, didn’t she? Not “he”. 

Besides, she’d said the donor was buying the objects. Not, you chuckle to yourself as you sit at your desk, stealing them. However ethical his motives may be. 

Still. No harm in packing some nice lingerie. Just in case.

***

It is still dark when your phone buzzes to let you know that the car - paid for and sent by the client - is waiting outside, ready to bring you to the airport for your transatlantic flight to Paris. 

You’d expected an Uber, not the gleaming black vehicle pulled up outside your building. Suitcase securely stowed, the driver points out the bottled water and snacks located in the back of the car as he sets off through deserted city streets. 

The surprises keep coming. You are in business class, not coach, for the long flight, resisting the urge to kick your feet and squeal with delight at the unexpected luxury. A smartly-dressed man holds a sign with your name on at Arrivals, and for a moment you wonder if this is the client. He’s another driver, of course - a charming and funny young Frenchman called Youssef, who speaks English with a vague American accent he says he picked up from TV and movies. 

Youssef whisks you into the city, pointing out landmarks along the way. The Eiffel Tower comes into view on the other side of the river as the black car negotiates elegant, narrow streets lined with perfectly-maintained nineteenth-century apartment buildings. 

“Et voilà!” Youssef stops the car and hops out to retrieve your suitcase. You step out, expecting to see the entrance to a hotel - but instead it’s just another residential building, sealed off from the city by two huge, heavy, dark green doors. 

With a bright smile, Youssef taps a little tag off a keypad and one of the doors swings open, revealing a passage leading to a gorgeous courtyard beyond. He refuses your tip - “it’s all good, madame!” - and instead picks up your bag and leads the way, opening another door to reveal the entrance hall proper. The marble floor is polished to perfection; dark red carpet covers the staircase that wraps around the elevator shaft; and there is not a sound to be heard.

”Sixth floor, madame. They’re waiting for you there.” He slides back the door of the elevator, slots your case in beside you, and presses the button. “Have a nice day!”

The elevator is old - possibly pre-World War One, you muse, unable to turn off the specialist’s mind - and slow. As it ascends, you take a moment to gather your thoughts and process this strange little adventure. 

If this was a movie, you’d be walking into a meeting of a criminal gang - or maybe to your death, you suddenly think, panic taking over for a second as the lift comes to a shuddering stop and you step out onto the sixth floor landing.

There is only one apartment entrance up here, as far as you can see. Dark red double doors, perfectly polished brass doorknobs and fittings adorning them, and a tiny doorbell discreetly tucked alongside the doorframe on one side. 

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and hover your finger over the button. 

The door to the apartment swings open just as your fingertip makes contact with the doorbell, setting off a loud, sonorous bell somewhere within and making you jump.

”Bienvenue, chérie. Come in, won’t you? I do hope I haven’t frightened you.”

***

“You know, if you wanted to ask me out again you could have just called or emailed, like a normal person.”

He hands you a cup of strong black coffee and joins you on the couch in the apartment’s enormous living room. 

“Do you think I’m a normal person?”

You take a sip and chuckle. “You are definitely not a normal person.”

He smiles in satisfaction, eyes taking you in from head to toe as you feel a warmth building deep within.

”It’s very, very good to see you, chérie.” His voice is warm and honeyed, an inviting purr that makes you ache between your legs. 

Today, he is wearing a black cashmere turtleneck with a pair of perfectly-tailored grey dress pants and some heavy, brown-framed glasses. It’s all you can do not to climb on top of him. 

“It’s been almost two months, Thief. Did you forget about me?”

He shakes his head, eyes softening with what you want to believe is genuine regret. “Never. I had to spend some time away, in South America - dealing with the family business, you know - and then I came here, to look at Madame Deseine’s…collection.”

The way he enunciates the final word gives you pause. What was in this “collection”?

“So my invitation here was just an excuse to see me, is that it? Because you weren’t back in the city yet?”

He looks at you in surprise. “Of course not! I mean, I’m very happy to see you again.” A little smile, eyes twinkling. “But no, I need your expertise. And your company is…a nice bonus.”

“My expertise?”

He sits back and crosses his legs, holding your gaze. “You are a specialist in the kinds of decorative arts and objects in Madame Deseine’s collection, I believe. And you are fluent in French. Year abroad in Lyon, correct?”

Your mouth falls open and you quirk your head. “How did… have you been… were you digging for information on me? That’s a violation of trust, and -“

He interrupts your fury with a chuckle. “Chérie, it’s all on your museum staff page profile. Qualifications, time abroad, special areas of expertise.”

You blush, embarrassed, and stare down into the dark swirl of your coffee as an awkward silence takes hold in the apartment’s tasteful interior. 

“I’m sorry, chérie. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Trust me, you are exactly the right person for the job.” 

He extends a hand towards yours, long fingers gently stroking the back of your hand. When you look up, his dark eyes are warm and genuinely apologetic. 

“I guess I’m not used to being…pursued, like this.”

He arches an eyebrow. “In what sense?”

You smirk and stand up. “In every sense, Thief. Now: are you going to explain this ‘job’ to me or not?”

His gaze - taking you in, a smile on his lips - is enough to set you aflame. 

“I am. But over dinner, I think.”

***

The waiter perfectly pours a little more white wine into each of your glasses before returning the bottle to the stainless steel ice bucket and leaving the two of you to your meals. 

He raises his glass to you, and you return the gesture.

You were not surprised when the car had pulled up outside an elegant, discreet restaurant tucked away in the Seventh Arrondissement. It was exactly his style: subtle, timeless, and exuding quality even before he held the door open and you stepped inside.

“So.” He swallows a bite of his monkfish and takes a sip of wine. “Madame Deseine.”

“Madame Deseine.”

You start to eat your meal as he explains. A genuine and respected art collector, Madame Deseine lived outside Paris in her family’s country estate, surrounded by an exceptional array of mostly nineteenth and early twentieth-century paintings, decorative arts, sculpture and furniture. As she grew older, she had begun to sell some parts of the collection - but remained extremely guarded about its exact contents.

“There are some…questions about the provenance of some of the items in the collection, or at least items we think are in the collection. Mostly late nineteenth-century decorative arts - clocks, vases, that sort of thing - but also some small art nouveau sculptures and figurines.”

You take a sip of your wine and narrow your eyes. “And this is where you come in?”

He nods. 

“You’re planning to steal some of her collection?”

He shakes his head, pauses, then nods before shaking his head again.

“Kind of, not really. Didn’t you hear what I said about provenance?”

“You think she’s not being entirely honest about her methods, about how she came by the collection?” In a world increasingly attuned to the repatriation of looted and stolen objects to their rightful place, you were deeply familiar with the importance of the provenance paper trail. 

He dabs at the corner of his mouth with the linen napkin. “Some of the collection. I believe that some of the collection came into her family as a result of looting and theft, that these items were not restored to their rightful owners, and that she is well aware of this fact.”

“You know that some of the most important art collectors in France before the war were Jewish families, no doubt.” You nod and he continues. “And that many of those families, even if they were in the minority lucky enough to escape the round-ups and the camps, had to leave behind those collections.”

”And when they were gone, the collections were…dispersed.”

He shakes his head. “Not dispersed. Stolen. Some of the surviving members of those families had their possessions located and restored, but not all. And I have been reliably informed that some of those missing items are currently in the hands of Madame Claudine Deseine.”

You swallow a bite of your salmon and size him up. “Aha. And this is why an ethical gentleman thief is required, I suppose?”

He gives you a knowing smile. The way the candlelight catches the coppery flecks in his brown eyes makes your breath catch for an instant. 

“I have been asked by a number of individuals to retrieve the objects stolen from their families over eighty years ago, and which have made their way into Madame Deseine’s collection without regard for their provenance.” He chews thoughtfully on a steamed green bean. 

“So where, exactly, do I come in, Thief?”

”I am going to buy some of the collection. But in order to be sure that the missing objects are in the Deseine chateau and to cross-check the gaps in the provenance records…I need to gain her trust. Or rather - you need to gain her trust.”

You raise your eyebrows and take another sip of wine. You might need something stronger by the end of the night.

”You aren’t seriously asking me to steal art, are you?” you hiss. He shakes his head furiously.

”Absolutely not. But I know Claudine Deseine’s reputation, and I know she won’t just let a potential buyer see the whole of her collection. She will, however, be a little more welcoming to a specialist who has kindly agreed to evaluate the items properly. Oh, and to look through the provenance records, to save us all time.”

”So what, I just turn up with you and hope she lets me into her secret stash of stolen stuff?”

He chuckles at the alliteration. “Not quite. But you may need to butter her up, tell her you’ve heard extraordinary things about the rare items she has, ask if she might let you see these things you’ve only read about in catalogues. And when you’re in, you can use your expertise to confirm that these are the items we are looking for, and then look for any gaps or obvious forgeries in the accompanying paperwork.”

”And how, exactly, do you propose to liberate the items from this chateau?”

He taps his nose. “Chérie, telling you that would make you completely complicit. I will handle it, you will wait in the apartment.”

You purse your lips. “I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Deseine has knowingly sat on these things too long - why else would she hide these valuable items from any public descriptions of her collection? The government ignores the claims from the descendants because, for the most part, they live in the US.” He finishes the remaining wine in his glass. “And I, personally, cannot resist a challenge.”

“I have one condition. Apart from not becoming more implicated in this than I already am.”

“Name it.”

”That. That’s my condition. I want your name.”

He chuckles and looks down at his empty dinner plate. “Chérie, I cannot.”

”You’re asking me to help you steal back some very valuable art, and you can’t give me your name?”

”If you know my name you will know too much. And I don’t know why you need to know, anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “I like to know who I’m working with. And, on occasion, who I’m sleeping with, or who’s eating me out on my desk.”

To your satisfaction, he splutters on his sparkling water. 

”I still can’t tell you,” he says, recovering his composure.

”Nothing stopping me guessing, though,” you whisper mischievously. “Let’s see. Giacomo.”

He gives you a withering glance.

”Not that, then…Pietro.”

An eye-roll. 

“Dave.”

”Do I look like a ‘Dave’ to you?”

You giggle as the waiter takes away your empty plates. “No, that’s true. Pierre?”

He groans and shakes his head, but his smile is unmistakable. “Don’t make me regret this, chérie.”

***

Back in the apartment, he rummages in a sideboard filled with bottles of various liqueurs and spirits, before producing a bottle of Courvoisier and two cognac glasses.

“A little digestif, if you’d like?” 

You accept your glass gratefully and inhale the complex, fruity aroma of the alcohol, swirling it gently before taking a sip. Its warmth radiates through your body and you close your eyes and savour the sensation, tucking your feet under you as you cosy up on the couch.

“Tell me about the apartment.”

He smiles, looking around the spacious living room, its nineteenth century interior fixtures somehow matching perfectly with the array of impeccably-chosen twentieth-century furniture. 

“My great-great-grandfather bought it, not long after this building was constructed - late nineteenth century, I think. The family business frequently brought him to Paris, and he needed a base.”

“And the family business is…?”

He huffs a laugh. “You are persistent, chérie. Wine. The family business was - is - wine.” 

You raise your eyebrows and nod as if extremely impressed, and he chuckles, revealing the laughter lines around his eyes that lend his handsome face such character. 

“Well, I can’t pretend to be an expert - what do they call it? An…oenophile, is that it? - so I’m not going to ask for any more details, fear not. My wine knowledge extends no further than ‘that’s quite nice, isn’t it.’”

He feigns horror, recoiling back into the cushions of the sofa. “Chérie, I am going to have to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

You giggle and take another sip of the cognac. “I’m willing to learn, though.”

“That so? Well, I can be your guide, if you’d like.” He finishes his cognac and licks his lips as he looks at you. 

“I…I would like.”

He smiles, takes your glass, and stands up. You follow his lead, wandering behind him into the kitchen where he deposits the empty glasses on a pristine countertop. Every fibre of your being wants to reach for him, to pull him to you, to have him there and then.

“Chérie, I…didn’t want to presume anything.” He swallows hard and turns to face you, eyes a little wary. “About, uh, sleeping arrangements. Hence the guest bedroom.”

You had changed there earlier - a bright, pretty bedroom at one end of the corridor running along the apartment, complete with its own small en suite bathroom. 

“Oh. Of course.” You flush. “A busy day tomorrow.”

His hand finds yours, long fingers caressing yours before he brings it to his lips for a soft, sustained kiss that does nothing to quench the flames of your desire.

“Indeed. That said, if you want company…”

You see the spark in his eyes: teasing, playful, almost daring you to act first. Instead, you meet his gaze with an enigmatic smile.

He pulls away slightly and arches an eyebrow. “If you want company, I am just down the hall. Bonne nuit, chérie.”

***

In the quiet of the guest room you slip out of your clothes and into a wine-coloured silk robe you’d found hanging on the back of the door, freshly pressed. You retrieve your washbag and toiletries and set about your nightly routine. 

You hoped it would be a distraction from the ache between your legs, from the memory of his hand on yours, from the way he looked at you, from his offer of company. From the wet patch you’d noticed on your panties as you undressed. 

“Fuck.”

You close your eyes and lean on the sink for a moment as you take a deep breath before reaching for your moisturiser.

***

He’s sitting on his bed, stripped to his boxers and clad in his own, navy blue silk robe. It hangs open around his body, the colour a perfect complement for his golden skin. 

A knock. He lifts his head from his papers.

“Come in, chérie.”

She peeks playfully around the door. “I was wondering if that offer was still valid. I think I do want some…company.”

“It’s still valid.” He tidies away the paperwork and pats the space beside him on the large bed. “What kind of company did you have in mind?”

She crosses the room, hands reaching for the sash of her guest robe. It falls open as she reaches the bed, revealing the lacy bra and matching French knickers underneath. He inhales sharply, cock twitching at the sight. 

“Up to you. This is your turf, after all.” 

“Ah, but you’re the guest, chérie. Your preference is what counts.”

She shucks off the robe and climbs onto the bed, swiftly straddling him. With a slow roll of her hips, she drags her pussy over his hardening cock, the outline visible under his dark boxers.

“This is my preference. Does it work for you, too, Thief?”

He answers with a hungry kiss as he pulls her tight to him.

***

He tastes of mint and cinnamon and the faintest trace of Courvoisier. You had missed his mouth.

His fingers unhook the clasps of your bra and he tugs it off you, discarding it to a corner of the room. He breaks the kiss, lips pink and wet, and turns his attention to your tits: cupping them, fondling them, squeezing them with his broad hands before he starts to suck on each nipple in turn.

You toss back your head and bite your lip, stifling a loud moan. He releases your breast with a pop of his mouth.

“This apartment is the entire top floor, chérie. You can be as loud as you wish.”

Two fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties and find the warm wetness that’s been building between your legs all day. He looks up at you and grins. 

“On your back, amor.”

French knickers off, he gently pushes your thighs back before resting your legs over his shoulders. He buries his face against your pussy with a delighted groan, the delicious timbre of his voice rumbling against your core. 

He licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, a hand pressing against your belly as your hips instinctively buck upwards with pleasure and need. His tongue swirls lasciviously across your folds, lapping up the wetness, before he begins to suck on your clit. Slow at first, a gorgeous torment; then faster, more insistent, the tip of his tongue flicking over and back over the swollen nub rhythmically in time with your needy moans and whimpers. 

He keeps it up as he slips first one, then two fingers inside you and hooks them just so, chuckling when you cry out.

“Fuck…I’m close, I -“

You let go. You come hard against his face, ecstasy coursing through your body as he keeps on fucking you through it with his fingers, gently pulling out when he senses your overstimulation. 

He moves up and lies beside you, face to face. 

“You enjoyed that.”

You try to slow your breathing. “You think?”

He chuckles, tracing the curve of your hip with his hand. “I enjoyed it, too.”

“And no jewel theft involved this time. So far, anyway.”

He closes his eyes and smiles, humming contentedly as he reaches for your breast, idly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. 

You study his features for a moment, noting the handful of freckles on his face, the way his dark lashes look against his cheeks, the gloss of your own slick shimmering across his pink lips, his chin, his moustache. 

This time, when your tongue swipes against his mouth, he tastes of you. 

You gather some of your own wetness on your fingers by way of lubrication, before tugging down his boxers and taking his cock in your hand. He closes his eyes as you stroke him slowly, steadily, feeling him growing harder under your careful touch.

With your free hand you caress the side of his face, thumb rubbing gently against the grey patches in his beard. 

“I want you, Thief.” 

He opens his eyes and smiles before gently moving your hand away from his cock. He shucks off his robe and shifts into position above you, arms caging your body on either side. 

“You know, I’m on birth control,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. “And you were the last person I was with, and before that…well, it had been a while.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Same. Well, not the birth control, evidently…but the rest. No one but you, not for some time. So…?”

You trail your fingers over his chest, dappled here and there with freckles, and he leans down to kiss you. Different, this time - softer, less desperate, more…tender.

“So you can have me bare, if you want.” 

“Oh fuck, chérie. Yes. Please.” He gestures with his head. “Turn, get on all fours.”

You do as you are told, teasingly wiggling your ass at him once you’re in position. He gives it a light slap and you squeal approvingly until the feeling of his cock opening you up makes you catch your breath.

He sinks slowly inside you, pausing when he’s fully sheathed in your warm pussy. You can hear his breathing becoming a little ragged, hitching as he adjusts to the feeling.

”Feel good, Thief?”

”Incredible, amor. You?” 

“Fucking amazing.”

He takes you slowly at first, a long drag out, a quicker thrust back inside, and builds up a rhythm quickly. The angle is nothing short of perfect and you bury your face against the covers, whining with pleasure. He reaches down and grabs one of your breasts, fingers pressing into the flesh as he fucks you harder and faster. 

“Such a beautiful body, amor. So soft and warm and fuck, such a tight little pussy for me. You feel so perfect on my cock.”

He’s hitting you just right now, another orgasm building rapidly until you come for the second time, muffling your cries in the blankets. You turn to look at him: broad body glistening with perspiration, errant curls falling over his forehead and darkened with sweat, that gorgeous head thrown back as he gets closer and closer.

”Come on, Thief.” You purr your encouragement, never taking your eyes off him. “Come on. Come. Fill me up.”

He comes hard, with a loud cry, hands gently caressing your hips as he finishes deep inside you. 

”I think you missed me.” 

He flops back on the bed and turns to face you as you nestle against him. A mischievous grin plays around his lips. “What on earth makes you say that, chérie?”

You kiss his forehead, tasting the salty sweetness of his damp skin. “Just a hunch. By the way, I have an even better reason why I need to know your name.”

He groans and rolls his eyes affectionately. “Well?”

”Well…if I knew your name, I could scream it out loud the next time you make me come like that.”

His eyes widen and he grins. “You could, I suppose.”

”So? What’s your name…Pablo.”

He fixes you with a teasing glare. “Not Pablo.”

”James. Jimmy. Jimbob?”

He can’t help but burst out laughing this time. “Fine. Fine. Let’s make a deal. If we succeed with Madame Deseine, I’ll give you a name.”

”A name?” The distinction is striking.

”A name. It may or may not be my name. But it will be a name. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

The morning mist hangs low over the French countryside as you drive through the enormous gateway that divides the Deseine estate from the rest of the world, and follow the long drive up to the chateau proper.

You had expected that Youssef would be on driving duty. But it was your gentleman thief at the wheel of the understated hire car, confidently navigating the autoroutes and trunk roads that led to your destination. For a moment you imagine a parallel universe where you are just a normal couple on a normal holiday, not a nameless thief and a museum curator plotting to relieve a woman of her family’s ill-gotten gains.

He had slept well, it seemed. You? Not so much. In the wee small hours of the morning, you lay awake, listening to his steady breaths and ruminating over what, exactly, you were doing here - and why.

He isn’t your partner. Not your boyfriend. Hell, you don’t know if you could call this “dating”. You don’t even know who he is. He stole from your employer because you let your pussy override your brain. He brought you to Paris to aid and abet in another theft. And, instead of turning on your heel and trying to protect your professional reputation, you’d not only agreed to his scheme - you’d fucked him. Again. 

You’d tossed and turned on the pillows as you tried to quiet your mind enough for sleep. Was this really just about sex? Or was something else pulling you into each other’s orbits?

The Deseine chateau emerges at the end of the driveway. It appears at first glance to date from the eighteenth century, with some later additions and extensions. He pulls up near the main door and hops out of the car, quickly bounding over to the passenger side so he can hold the door for you. 

“What a gentleman,” you whisper, straightening the smart blazer and palazzo pants you’d worn for the occasion. 

“At your service,” he replies with a subtle wink. “Just as I was when you needed…company. How are you feeling this morning, by the way? Satisfied, I hope.”

Before you can answer, the enormous main doors of the chateau swing open and a petite woman with snow-white hair emerges, clad in a vintage bouclé Chanel skirt and matching jacket. He moves swiftly up the steps to shake her hand, speaking too quietly for you to pick up on whatever name he’s using today.

“And this is my expert, my advisor, my guiding light!” He gestures towards you, motioning for you to join them. You introduce yourself with a bright smile, trying to read the older woman’s expression, to get a sense of how you might gain her trust.

“It is an honour to be here, Madame. I’m so excited to see the collection.”

Claudine Deseine casts an appraising glance over you from head to toe. Seemingly satisfied, she extends her hand in greeting and addresses you in clipped, precise English. 

“It is very special, I think you’ll agree. Now, do come in - I’ll have my housekeeper Maryam bring us some coffee, and then we can take a look at the objects we’ve discussed.”

***

He is gentlemanly charm personified, you think, watching him follow Madame Deseine around the house. He flirts just enough to have the older woman like putty in his hands, listens attentively, laughs at her jokes, and looks at her with a familiar twinkle in his eyes. 

The recognition gives you pause, but you push it to the back of your mind. You have a plan to stick to today.

She leads the two of you into a bright room at the back of the chateau, overlooking a gorgeous French-style formal garden. “Well, here they are.” She gestures towards a large oak table in the middle of the room, where a variety of figurines and decorative objects are set out. You’d known what to expect: mostly art nouveau, dating from decades either side of 1900; some bronze figures; some beautifully-decorated ceramics, glazes still bright and vibrant; and what you immediately recognise as a small, early Lalique crystal vase.

He claps his hands together in what looks like genuine delight, eyes widening as he moves closer to the table. “May I?”

Madame Deseine beams and nods. He carefully picks up one of the vases, inspecting the swirling, sinuous curves of its painted decoration before checking the makers’ marks on the bottom of the piece. 

“Extraordinary,” he says in a rapt whisper.

“Madame?” She turns to face you. “Would it be possible for me to see the paperwork while he - while my client is inspecting the objects? It would save your valuable time, and you’ve already been so kind to accommodate us.”

She beams. “Of course. Follow me, won’t you?” She opens another door leading off the room and pauses for a moment. 

“I’ll be back tout de suite, monsieur,” she purrs at him as he peers at a bronze figurine. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“You really are most kind, Madame.” He winks, and the esteemed Claudine Deseine titters like a schoolgirl.

***

She flicks a switch and illuminates a large, windowless room located at the rear of the house, in what you suspect might be the former servants’ quarters. “Et voilà. The archive.”

The walls are lined with shelving, filled with hundreds of archive boxes and files. You begin to scan the shelves, trying to work out a pattern in the filing system. 

“They are labelled according to date of acquisition,” she explains. “Achats, purchases, by year.”

You look at her with an expression that you hope conveys innocent confusion. “Gosh, it’s all such a lot. Could you give me dates for the items being sold? Ballpark, if necessary - I just know he’s a stickler for the paperwork but he’s impatient and he won’t take kindly to me taking a long time in here…”

She smiles and nods sympathetically, and for a moment you feel incredibly guilty. “Ah. Men. I understand, my dear.” She pulls out an unmarked, unlabelled box file from the top shelf and retrieves a spiral-bound book.

“This is strictly entre-nous, my dear. My personal catalogue. Everything by date. Let this be your guide. And now, I must return to monsieur.” She looks at you conspiratorially. “If he becomes - how do they say it, antsy? - then he can simply take a walk in my beautiful gardens, hmmm?”

***

He strolls past the elegantly-trimmed box hedges as he makes his way to the elaborate water feature at the centre of the gardens. He couldn’t quite believe how well it had all worked out, so far - your complaint about his impatience had, as planned, won you her sympathy and with it an order from the lady of the house to go and see the gardens while you worked through the papers. 

If necessary, he’d have feigned illness, claimed he needed some air. But it’s always better when they play right into your hands, with something they believe is their idea. 

The gardens are perfectly positioned to give him a view of the back of the house: the doors leading to a terrace, the smaller windows and discreet servants’ entrance. His dark eyes survey the building closely, making a mental map he’ll refer to when he finalises the plan. He has his suspicions, but he needs you to confirm exactly where the collections are hidden. For now, he just hopes you can unlock the final part of the puzzle. 

***

A knock on the door announces the return of Claudine Deseine. 

“Well, have you found what you needed? I do hope the catalogue was useful.”

Little do you know, Madame. 

You replace the lid on a box of papers and nod at a stack of receipts and records of authenticity relevant to the items he was perusing for purchase. 

“Very useful, thank you, Madame.” 

You swallow hard and slow your breathing as you follow her out of the room. 

“Madame, may I - may I make a somewhat bold request?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You may. What is it?”

“I couldn’t help but notice the entries for some of Lalique’s cire perdue work when I was looking at the catalogue. Pieces so rare that we only know they exist because of René Lalique’s own records…”

“Yes. And?” 

“My masters dissertation was on Lalique, Madame. Is there…would you…could I…?”

She stares at you before her features soften into a smile. 

“You want to see them, don’t you?”

***

“Well?”

He waited until you were out of the estate before asking the question, not seeming to notice how quiet you’d been since getting back in the car.

“They’re there. The three Lalique pieces, that rare Sevres vase. She was only too happy to show me.”

“Did you check the makers’ marks?”

You nod, gazing out of the window. “I did. They’re the right pieces. Those Laliques are one of a kind. In different circumstances, it would have been a joy to see them.”

“And the papers?”

He takes the turn to merge onto the autoroute back to Paris, and you wish the nagging doubts about this whole sorry enterprise - about him - would dissipate.

“The private catalogue clearly states when they were acquired, but with no corresponding archival code numbers. I checked the boxes for those years carefully, just to be sure…but there’s no paper trail. Just a note in each catalogue entry recording the dealer they came from - all from the same man.”

He nods, satisfied. “And the room itself? What’s access like?”

“I sent you some photos earlier.” While Madame Deseine had been taking the priceless objects out of their storage boxes, you had snapped some surreptitious pictures. “Access may not be straightforward, though, given the absence of a window.”

He chuckles. “Leave that to me.”

“Won’t she know that you’ve taken the pieces, by the way?”

“F is for Fake, chérie. Nothing some good forgeries cannot fix.”

***

You spend the rest of the journey in silence, while he rambles about various subjects: French motorways, private chateaux, Lalique’s cire perdue process, in which a vase is formed within a one-off wax mould that was discarded afterwards, rendering the pieces unique - and extremely valuable.

“The descendants of the original owners still have, in some cases, the provenance records for these items,” he explains as he parks the car and taps the sensor to open the door into the building. “And now, soon, they’ll have their rightful inheritance.”

You don’t know whether to snap at him or burst into tears.

He takes your coat and saunters into the apartment’s small kitchen, still talking to you as he audibly potters around, opening cupboards and taking out dishes and glassware. You are not really listening, still caught up in your own thoughts. Why the fuck were you here? Were you really willing to risk your entire reputation for a crush and some sex? You’d been lucky to escape any questioning or punishment after the theft of the ruby, after all. 

And what if, as you wondered in the chateau when he was so flirtatious and charming with Madame Deseine, he was just using you? Your knowledge and your veneer of professional respectability helped him steal. Your desire and your body got him off. Win-win for him, but a potentially devastating loss for you.

“Chérie? Didn’t you hear me?”

He’s standing at the narrow door into the kitchen that adjoins the living room, sweater sleeves rolled up.

“Oh. Oh, sorry. I was miles away. What is it?”

“I asked the housekeeper to leave a light dinner for us, as it’s been a long day. It’s nothing fancy - some salads, crudités, cold cuts and cheeses - but I do have a very nice Sancerre chilled in the fridge…”

You force a smile. “That does sound good. I’ll set the table, if you show me where everything is.”

He cheerily opens the various cartons and tubs of food as you ferry the tableware into the open-plan dining area. Behind his usual charming patter, though, is a man increasingly worried about how quiet you’ve been since you left Madame Deseine and her collections earlier that day.

***

“You know you can talk to me, chérie. What’s on your mind?”

Of course he’s noticed. Why wouldn’t he? His perceptiveness is what makes him such an artful, successful thief.

You drain your glass of Sancerre and look him square in the eye.

“Am I really so different to Claudine Deseine?”

He looks confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Am I really so different to Claudine Deseine? In your eyes, I mean. Are you using me, like you’re using her?”

“I’m not using Madame Deseine. I’m buying some of her collection so I can liberate the really valuable pieces and get them back where they belong. That’s stealing, not using.”

You exhale, long and slow. “I saw you today. Handling her just like you do me. The charm offensive, the twinkling eyes, the flirting. She, at least, hasn’t slept with you - though I wouldn’t put it past you to try if you thought it would have helped.”

The words leave your lips, and you instantly regret it. So much for rational calm. Now you just sound like a jealous lover.

He looks at you, jaw ticking, and a blend of fury and hurt burning in his dark eyes. 

“That’s rather unfair, don’t you think?”

Silence.

“I had to win her over. Just like you did. Or did you forget your part in this?”

“Why am I here, Thief? What do you want from me? There must be hundreds of other experts out there you could have enlisted to help you gain access to the collection, theft or no theft. And if it’s just about sex, well - I suspect there’s no shortage of people who’d be very glad to fuck you. So why me? Or do you just want to ruin me, finish what you started when you tricked and took advantage of me?”

His voice is low and carefully controlled. “You know that’s not what this is, chérie. You know that.”

You push away from the table and stand to face him, flinging down your linen napkin. “So what, then, is it?”

He stares at you and his expression shifts, from glowering to openness. Mouth slightly ajar, he seems to be struggling to find the words.

He can’t even bring himself to say it. Coward.

“I see. Good night, Thief.”

***

Your return flight is booked for the day after tomorrow, and there’s no way you could afford a last-minute ticket for an earlier departure. As you complete your nighttime routine and slip into the guest bed, you resolve to make the most of an unexpected solo day in Paris, looking up current exhibitions and shows at the city’s various museums and galleries. 

You take a herbal sleeping tablet, just in case, and turn off the light.

When you wake in the morning, you find that your pillow is damp from the tears you wept in the night.

His bedroom door is still firmly closed as you pad down the hallway and to the main door. Exploiting you or not, he’d made it clear that he didn’t need you for today, the final stage in his plan. There’s a spare keyfob in the drawer of the small hall console table. You slip it in your bag and head out of the apartment and into the city.

***

Museums afford a kind of sanctuary: a quiet space for meditation, reflection, imagination, escape. On a day like today, they enclose you in a safe, comforting cocoon of art and beauty, helping to shield you from the world outside - and from the raging storm of your own thoughts and worries.

You flash your work ID at the entrance to the Petit Palais and are waved through, past the lines of tourists, by virtue of the international reciprocal entry schemes for museum staff. The current temporary show, on Paris in the first decades of the twentieth century, is just what you need by way of distraction, and you lose yourself in artwork after artwork, in no hurry to return to the apartment. 

At the museum’s garden café, you take your time over coffee and cake, occasionally joined by a tiny songbird who seems hell-bent on helping himself to your snack. His daring raids on your slice of carrot cake help to stop your mind from wandering back to the apartment, to him, and to his journey back to the chateau.

***

He’s gone when you get back. Just an envelope on the counter, addressed to you. Normal service, you think, resumed at last.

Chérie,

As planned, I’ve returned to the Deseine estate to finish what we started. I intend to return later tonight, or in the early hours, but promise me that if I do not return, you will take the flight tomorrow evening. 

You must not look for me. Promise me that.

I hope that I might see you before you leave, one way or the other. 

Know that I care for you, chérie. 

Midnight comes and goes with no sight or sound of him.

One. Two. Three. Nothing.

You close your eyes and force yourself to sleep.

***

He whispers to you in your dreams, over and over. He calls out to you. 

“Chérie?”

You open your eyes. In the half-light, you see him. Hair mussed, eyes wide, face streaked with dirt, stripped to the waist. 

He feels real to the touch: warm, solid, the softness of his middle, the strength of his arms and shoulders. His beard bristles so realistically under your lips that you could almost believe he was there.

“Chérie, I’m here. I’m back. I’m with you.”

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and pull him to you, wordlessly peppering his face with kisses before he wriggles down and nestles his head against your chest, holding you tight to him.

He seems unsettled, distressed, even. Perhaps it had been a narrow escape. Perhaps something had gone wrong. 

No matter. You envelop him with warmth and protection. The way he clings to you, needs you, starts to provide an answer to your questions about the nature of his feelings.

You kiss the top of his head and stroke the scruff on the side of his jaw. He pulls away for a moment to look up at you, all softness and awe and warmth. He motions as if to say something, then stops, pensive, and reaches up to kiss your mouth.

“My name is Alejandro.”

Find out more about the Lalique cire perdue technique here!

If you'd like to read more about the great Jewish art collecting families of pre-war France, I strongly recommend James McAuley's The House of Fragile Things and Edmund de Waal's Letters to Camondo.

[missbunnybunny]

Someone come get Widow! Cursing, dark humor I believe. Someone put Widow on a leash. Both Widow and I can't cook SMH. Spelling errors cuz I can't spell, Enjoy the madness living in my head rent-free. Thank you for reading 🙇🏽‍♀️. What is going on here!?! Price is having a heart attack in the background. Why is widow climbing the walls?!?

___________________________________________

Widow: könig, are you a tree?

König: umm no?

Widow: cuz I wanna climb ya.

König: 😳 I-

Widow: ☺️hehe

*Ghost hitting Widow on the side of the head with a newspaper* bad Widow, down girl.

___________________________________________

* Random stranger* come on sweetheart just a lil bite, sharing is caring.

Widow: am not caring thus am not sharing. * continues to eat her cake*

*Random stranger* But-

*Widow pulls out her gun* ask me again and I'll be sharing somethin' else with ya.

* never try to take a woman's last piece of 🍰 she just might kill for it.*

___________________________________________

*Widow in cute clothes all happy*

*creepy dude trying to flirt* hey, beautiful 😍.

*Widow smiling happily* Yes? 😊

*Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and König in the background. Scary dog privilege ACTIVATED*

(Not gonna lie this shit would scare me if I saw it at night)

*Creppy dude* N-nothing. * runs for his life*

Widow: huh weird... * looking behind her*

*Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and König returning to normal* 🙂

___________________________________________

Graves: am gonna do it, am gonna jump.

Ghost: do a flip.

Widow: can I go home now , his an attention whore. This is like the 4th time this week.😒

*Price in a panic*: the fuck is happening here?!?😦

___________________________________________

* Widow on a mission*: I don't think this is safe.

Ghost:...😐😑😐

Soap: widow-

Gaz: bitc- Widow we are in a battlefield.

Widow: oh yeah.....right. whoops, my bad. Hehe...😅😅

Soap: widow, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?

___________________________________________

*Widow annoyed at graves * trigger warning am pulling my trigger.

Graves: what-

Ghost: Approved

*Widow shoots graves in the leg, but misses by an inch*

Widow: next time ya talk so much shit I'll go for ya jewels.

Graves: I was just asking you on a date?!?

Widow: live up to ya name and Phil a grave soon. You know like the dig-ya-own grave type of humor.😒

___________________________________________

*Widow hiting her toe on a table* : coño, maldita mesa del diablo. ( fuck, fucking Table from hell)

Gaz: you good, there?

Widow: si, am good. (Yes) * no, she is not. She shaking and planing the tables death*

The table: I was the one assaulted here!?! Why you cursing at me for?!?

___________________________________________

Alejandro: olle Widow. Got you some empanada! (Hey)

Widow: is this heaven...??🥹

Ghost: so you did remember to bribe her with food, Smart.

Alejandro: yup.

*Widow enjoying her food like a child* ✨️☺️✨️ kicking and swinging her feet.

___________________________________________

*Widow standing at the door looking at könig*

*König cooking*

Widow: I love a man that can cook.😍

Soap: yeah, cuz ya would burn down the whole base. 😒

Widow: I would not! ( Yes, yes she would 🚨🚒🔥)

Soap: remember last time?

Widow:

Widow: hehe...😅 * she gave everyone trauma with her cooking skills*

Soap: see, you're a danger to the kitchen. * Nah she's a danger to the world when she cooks🤣 *

(I think I had way too much fun writing the introduction😂)

___________________________________________

[aboutzatanna]

Hey, remember that JLU episode titled ‘The Once And Future Thing: Weird Western Tales’ where a couple of JL members ended up stranded in the old West thanks to time travel?  

Well, turns out there was a comic book very similar to it written by Gerry Conway with art by Don Heck but starring a different set of JL members which may or may not have been the inspiration for the episode:   

The episode was written by the late Dwayne McDuffie who was no stranger to writing in references to older comics. For instance, the two parter ‘Brave and the Bold’ Flash’s hallucinations were references to various Silver Age Flash comic covers and he was also very open about the fact that the line up for the Terra Beyond two parter was based on Marvel comics Defenders (no not the Netflix team, the one with Namor and Dr Strange). Even the episode title itself, ‘Weird Western Tales’ is a reference to the long running anthology series of the same name featuring DC’s western characters. 

The story arc in the comics ran from Justice League of America Vol 1 #198-199.     

While it’s hard to conclusively say that the episode was inspired by the comic, there are some interesting similarities like Batlash’s introduction here:   

I posted Zatanna’s meeting with Cinnamon earlier in another post but here is a little excerpt:  

Interesting to note that one of the goons calls her an ‘Eastern Filly’ (is it because of the way she was dressed or a subtle hint that she is not 100% Caucasian?).  The heroes and their new Western cowboy friends all meet at a Saloon: 

Then they all ride off on horses out of town to confront the villain and of course, faces robot cowboys:   

The differences begin with the choice of the time travelling villain, the comic went with classic JL villain: the Lord of Time:   

JLU went with David Clinton, aka Chronos. He’s a different villain who is primarily the enemy of the Atom/Ray Palmer but has also fought the JL on occasion.   

The Lord of Time on the other hand, is a conqueror from the future who travelled back in time with future technology to conquer the past and rule the future. Sound familiar? He was Kang before Kang.  Since JLU’s version of Chronos comes from the future, you could make a case that version is a combination Chronos and Lord of Time.   

Then of course,  there is the line up, the comic features Zatanna, Elongated Man, Barry Allen and Hal Jordan whereas the show features Wonder Woman, Batman and Green Lantern.  Superman also appears trying to thwart the Lord of Time in the present day.     

On the Western heroes side, we got Diablo instead of Cinnamon and Scalphunter is replaced by Pow Wow Smith (and it only takes a cursory glance at the characters wikipedia pages to see why the socially conscious Dwayne McDuffie made that choice).   

The plot of the JLU episode involved a corrupt sheriff using future technology to take over the town but the plot of the comic is a little different. The Lord of Time sent the heroes back in time, erased their memories, because an anti matter meteor was set to strike earth on that day.   The LoT is counting on the heroes to stop the meteor so he can have it for himself so he can use it to conquer the world.  (Why he doesn’t just get the meteor himself? Maybe he didn’t have the technology to?) 

Anyway, the heroes learn about the anti matter meteor heading towards them, Zatanna is reluctant to leave her new found cowgirl girlfriend with her friends to fight the robots:

But she ends up going anyway:   

Can I just say, I really like this shot of Zee and Green Lantern flying together? Even though she is depowered during this period, they never really stuck strictly to the ‘she can only manipulate the elements’ ethos.  Having her flying alongside GL and being unabashed powerhouse is really cool and shows her place among the DCU. There is no ‘she has to be taken out so someone else can shine’ bs here.  Also, reading these comics, I have felt that GL makes the most sense as the field leader of the JL; power based on creativity and will power and they are specifically trained to work together and take on strange extra terrestrial or otherwise threats. I think any of the human GL’s (except maybe Guy) can lead the team.  

Zatanna and GL  manage to stop the meteor. But in present timeline the Lord of Time ends up defeated by Superman (early on he got in a kryptonite trap set by the LoT but managed to escape) just as the time trapped Leaguers make their way back.      

Awww, a krytonite waterfall wasn’t that bad, Clark.    

Overall, the issue was alright. It does feel like placeholder (albeit a fun one) before the big #200 celebration issue (I posted some scans from that here). Come to think of it, the episode came off as filler as well, with the Western parts feeling like a fun romp and ultimately inconsequential to the arcs of the main heroes but the follow up portion set in the Batman Beyond timeline was more impactful and memorable.   

[oneforthemunny]

munny's one-derful year

to celebrate my one year on tumblr (january eighth, to be exact), i have decided to open up a little writing prompt. some of my favorite lores, asks, and others for anyone to participate in <3 thank you all so much for your love and following me around onto three blogs lol!!! i love you all so much!! 

rules: must tag #munnysonederful and @oneforthemunny to each entry so i can read and reblog ofc. unlimited entries, and i will be reblogging and making a masterlist on my own page so everyone can read/find the works :)  can be blurbs, full works, headcanons, honestly anything you want! 

prompts: 

rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader’s favorite hate fucking moment. where does it happen? why does it happen? are they just playing, or did one prompt the other? What happens ;)? get as smutty and gross as you want to babes, no one here will complain lol. 

based off the lore that older!eddie gets slutty on teqila lol. gimme tequila eddie. make it slutty. the og prompt was at the beach for a wedding of a cousin, if you’d like to follow that, but if not- where does it happen? how do you think it would go? don’t spare a single detail please!!!!

modern!eddie and his lil mean girl’s first date, like official date. i get a lot of questions on this and i honestly want to know what you guys think! what’s it like? where do they go? any awkward moments? what’s the convo like? does he try to over impress or play it like he’s too cool? have fun with it! 

ofc i would never deny anyone here a chance to write about our beloved mafia!eddie and the dogs lol. vecna, diablo, lucifer, and zeus (and beelzebub if you want to add him). i love anything with the dogs, specifically with them being spoiled, so spoil me for a moment and write about them! eddie’s bitching because they’re “guard dogs!!! they’re trained to kill!!!” and you’ve got them totally spoiled, so tell me about it. how would you spoil them? 

janitor!eddie deserves the world, so give it to him. give me something with spoiling him. why are you doing it (birthday, valentine’s day, hard week)? how are you doing it? is it planned or a surprise or impromptu? and of course, how does he react? could be angsty, fluffy, smutty if you’re feeling it. just show him some love. 

cowboy!eddie and sweet girl’s animals. i gotta know about them. there’s three parts of lore here: the cow, the chickens, and the goats. take your pick or choose all of them. make it your own, or me, personally, i want to know how they came to be? how did that conversation of convincing eddie to get them go? expectations vs reality? have fun with it, be silly with it. 

the horny hours convo we had (in april??? maybe lol) with dom!eddie was quite possibly the most successful and most interacted horny hours we’ve ever had. so with that being said, i’m opening up the prompts to be rewritten in your version. so there was three big ones: “don’t make me pull this car over” aka car troubles, “go pick a switch” aka switching it up, and the bath brush aka dripping down. rewrite it, make it your own, make new drama, if you’re not a brat make it non-bratty lol, make it slutty is all i ask. 

bouncer!eddie being a switch really shook everyone up and i loved it, so i want whatever version of him you want to write. him being subby, him being dominant, him just being him and being a little flirty and silly and slutty and the love of my life. expand on the walk in blurb if you need inspo, or what happened after a night where you or him got jealous from someone flirting at the hideout. 

funson’s freebies: 

in honor of my og blog (funsonmunson, gone but not forgotten) these are freebie plots for any of my au’s <3

give me an angsty breakup fic. why did they break up? who broke up with who? make me cry, ruin my day- or take mercy on us and give us a happy ending, up to you. 

self care nights. what do they do? is it a night in? a night out? is eddie taking care of you, or you taking care of him, or a little bit of both? what’s going on, just let me feel all gooey and lovey inside!!! 

i always get birthday requests, and technically it’s my tumblr birthday, so what do the eddies do for your birthday? where do they take you? what’s the cake situation? surprise party, planned party, no party? night in or out? presents? birthday sex? truly whatever you picture!

another highly requested, is a wedding. i love weddings and my guilty pleasure is wedding fics idk why, so give me that. you can follow the lore if they have it, or do whatever you want! proposal, ceremony, honeymoon- honestly whichever you want! where does it happen? what’s the details? who’s there? if you put vows i’m gonna sob so just fyi on that. 

finally, i have to give it up for the domestic babes. give me something soul crushingly domestic. dog!dad eddie, dad!eddie, pregnancy one, newborn, child- i don’t care. i want to feel motherly in this bitch after i read it. 

[darling-answers]

HAI POOKIE CAN YOU DO A SOMBRA X WIDOW (Or Spiderbyte) X READER FANFIC PLEAAASEEEE

THIS IS A 18+ LESBIAN WRITING DO NOT READ THIS IF YOUR A MALE OR UNDER 18+!

WOOF WOOF WOOF I definitely will complete this Very good request! Thank you for requesting after reading my sexy Moicy request and asking for another poly GRRRR also thank you for private messaging me and giving me more for this fanfic, you satisfied my expectations and I appreciate people if you do this!

I did get off topic with the ask and I apologize if I need to rewrite this I will, but idk why I just felt like this fit really well with it. 😭🏃‍♀️

Working in the lab was hard, everyday it was a new thing and especially spending 75 hours in the lab with no sleep cause massive amounts of side effects to happen, knowing that you were starting to see them such as the beginning of slurring your speech causing even your lab partners to give you a confuse work when you started to ramble on something that they didn’t even understand even being on the same level as you are scientifically, they would just slowly back away and leave you alone to ramble alone to your own thoughts, the next side effect you started noticing was you couldn’t even stand up without your leg shaking erratically, so you option to sitting down and kept working. It got to the point even doctor O’Deoadrin and Kruiper notice the struggles you were having.

The admiration for you dedication and work made you a brilliant scientist the fact you did Blood typing and cross matching donor blood for patient transfusions; Testing blood for drug levels; Finding abnormalities in blood clotting made you a higher up scientist that even Moira admired your work and creation’s even stopping to get a better look of what your doing and to comment on her thoughts but when she started noticing you absolutely chaotic state the first one she notified was your Hacker wife. Without you even noticing she slips out of the lab and headed off towards your bedroom where she knows atleast one of your wives would be.

Knocking on the door at first she heard no reply from anyone, as she was about to walk away she heard a voice no two voices coming from the room, it was widowmaker and Sombra who was whispering about something, Moira jingles the knob than jingles it one more time and open it, revealing the two women who were sitting at the computer widowmaker watching Sombra type away clearly hacking something. Widowmaker is slowly whispering in the ear of her other wife as Moira clears her throat loudly.

It causes Sombra to whip her head around to face the door, cursing in Spanish her native language, “¡¿Qué diablos crees que estás haciendo en nuestra habitación?!” Widowmaker puts a hand on Sombra shoulder giving Moira a side eye and she lifts her eyebrow to make Moira continue. “ May you get your wife out of my lab before she causes my experiments to become devastating, I can’t have a girl running on haft ass sleep to be in a laboratory filled with very valuable materials and information.”

The concern look that was switch on widowmaker face when she heard about her wife condition caused her to stand up instantly , “ she, is not on vacation? We.. were told by her?” Widowmaker spoke out placing a hand on her hip while Sombra looked at her. Running widowmaker back as she curses in French, “ Why the hell was Mi Amor hiding the fact she was not on vacation leaving us behind but she was in the damn base the whole time! We want answers, and you will give it to us before I let Akane on that little secret that you so preciously keep from him.” The growl that was let out from Sombra mouth was one filled with venom, the natural aggression that followed was an uncommon sight but not one that Moira was not aware of.

“ Your Wife is working in a delicate situation that I need done right. Because she one of the best valuable asset to this cause she was the only one I would be willing to help out, naturally if you found out she even stayed up a day, you.. would have a all out effort to get her to bed… and I can’t have my expectations and experiments wasted off on human interaction, so to help me out, I asked her to assist with lieing to you guys and keeping you… distracted without you guys even realizing it.” She lets out a hum starting to walk away from the room when Sombra trails after her not far behind is widowmaker who clearly is frustrated with the aspect of not even realizing her naive wife fell for Moira tricks again.

Bursting into Moira lab before Moira could even stop Sombra with a huff she let them throw to get there wife out of the lab, “ a word with you after we’re done taking care of are wife is to be expected.” Widowmaker mumble as she walked into the lab right after Sombra did, looking at the back of the lab she could see her wife, spacing out while doing a lab experiment, her eyes glossy over as widowmaker walked in front of her wife mumbling some words in French trying to coax her wife to snap out of the haze coming to rub at her shoulder, a shudder is heard as a cognitive sound is heard as the lab experiment tube is place gently down on the rack.

“ What are you two doing here.?” You mumbled as you looked around the room trying to not reach the eyes of your two very clearly frustrated lovers, “ We could ask you the same thing.” Sombra, no Olivia said with a evil smirk meeting the eyes of Lacroix, the Spider women let out a hum as Olivia grabbed your shoulder gripping your arm in a harshly way, almost to harsh as she force you to make your way with her and lacroix on trail to your shared room, as you were pushed inside and on the bed, you knew, even in your tired draining state you knew you had little chance to get yourself out of this situation. They wouldn’t let you get your way not today.

“ Do you know how worried we were, Torado! Well, you had us all worried that you were out on vacation without telling us where you went you were in the lab the whole entire time, and you couldn’t even trust us to tell us the truth and lie to Moira?!? You have a treat in coming for you Puta, Now get up and take off your clothes, I want your lips sealed, not even a peep from you .” Olivia growled out, fisting some of your hair and yanking on it, causing a cry out of mouth which caused you to get slapped in the face.

“ mon amour, tu dois rester tranquille, je ne peux pas t'aider, tu as fait ça tout seul.” lacroix mumbled in your ear coming to gently help you up out of the bed and gently as she runs her hands all over your body laying kisses on your neck she helps you take off your clothes. “ You will be okay, I won’t let her go to far.” Once your naked bare infront of two beautiful women eyes to see Lacroix comes to gently turn your head from Olivia to her, gently grabbing at your cheeks and lean in to kiss her, widowmaker ushering you on the bed.

Widowmaker lays down after taking off her body suit and gently guides you to go on top of her, gently grabbing at the hair that Olivia had wrapped around her fingers and gently push it away from the harsh grip. Lacroix comes to gently guide your face to the most intimate part of a humans life. Her nipples were perky and ready to be sucked on like a newborn baby weaning for milk, as she comes to gently put her nipple in your mouth harsh hands come to roughly lift your bottom up. A strangle gasp and moan leaves your mouth as a harsh slap was given to your ass. The stinging of the pain cause a few more whimpers to be let out as a cold tongue is instantly felt circling around your clit, a shiver and whine is let out of your mouth as your eyes felt like it rolled in the back of your skull when you felt Sombra tongue start giving kitten licks to your Quivering pussy.

She blew a few small air onto your foot causing a squirm to be reacted from you as she comes to lick at your clit harder while moving her slimmer fingers up to your vaginal opening swirling around the opening before jabbing her fingers in your pussy cause a whimper and a sob to come from your mouth, as she mocks your cry she comes to start sucking on your clit that starts to get red and puffy, noticing that your close to your edge she suddently stops and just lets out a hum.

“ i don’t think bad girls deserve to cum for not listening to there mommy?” You hear her say just Barely, to frustrated about the orgasm that was lost. Coming to gently grab at Lacroix breast you make the move to nestle in her grasp as she mumbled to your other wife about how cruel Olivia is being, “ well Puta! next time you should learn that lying to your mommies isn’t a good thing to go for.” Sombra growled out as she rubs at your clit harshly, Lacroix gently soothes out your hair even further before coming to dip three fingers into your vagina pumping in and out, “ It alright Baby, mommy will give you what you want.”

As you feel your orgasm coming up gripping the sheet, your back arch’s even further than you thought could happen “ M-mommy! Mommy! Please! Please let me cum! I’m sorry it will never happen!” Whining out clenching even more of the bedsheets. You felt Olivia bend down and spit on your pussy before bending over even more and start devouring your cunt. A massive squirt of cum came out that Olivia ate all up. Lacroix comes to gently wipe her hands on the sheets as Olivia finish up the mess you made , startling you as she felt you try to push her head away from your cunt making her laugh and coo at you. She comes to wipe her mouth off with her sleeves before she smirks at you cocking her head. Smirking with a huge predator gleam in her eyes, almost stalking your every movement.

“ Now it your turn to return the favor are you ready?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a whole ass heartattack with face flush and everything writing this 😭😭😭👍

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I love your OC “Raven”, she’s so cute and adorable. I just saw your post about what she would dream of during Malleus’ overblot and thought that it would be difficult for the guys to try to wake her up as Malleus tells her sweet dreams and seems genuinely happy that she can become the main character in this dream reality. So when the guys try to tell her that it’s all fake and she is still a storyteller, Malleus would get really angry (probably more angry about that then, when the rest of them are getting out of the dream) as in the post about the masquerade event, it was like Malleus and Raven were siblings, so Malleus would most likely put some barrier to keep them out of her dream or something.

[Referencing this post and this story!]

Wah, thank you 😭 I'm glad you like her and find her little stories and interactions with the other characters interesting~

It’s been quite interesting to hear about how others perceive certain relationships and dynamics that Miss Raven has with her peers. I think this is actually the first time someone else has told me there’s a sibling-like bond between her and Malleus 😂 (I would like to mention that I had a running joke that Sebek mistook them as distant relatives, but didn’t think that I’ve ever written Malleus and Raven with the intention of being sibling-like.)

(I’m going to talk about this for a while, so see the rest below the cut ^^)

They mainly see each other sporadically and in a “professional” capacity because Raven serves as the middle man between the other dorm leaders + the headmaster and Malleus (since they often miss each other). Again, she’s the Diablo to Malleus’s Maleficent— With the events of Glorious Masquerade, it feels like they’ve come to understand one another a little more. They’ve both people who want to fiercely defend their own ideals, even if it comes at the cost of putting themselves on the front lines. Malleus leaves the masquerade with newfound respect for the audacity (or is it stupidity?) of Raven to stand against him, which I guess is where a vague sense of “fondness” comes from in spite of how cordial their interactions usually are.

When you say they feel like siblings, I’m assuming it’s Malleus = big brother and Raven = little sister? 🤔 I wonder if he’s ever canonically wanted to be a big brother… That would, uh… require his parents to still be alive and present. I’d imagine it’s lonely in his castle whenever Lilia’s busy, so maybe Malleus has thought about having a sibling that looks up to him and is by his side. In Raven’s case, she has wished for siblings to keep her company before—whether older or younger, she’s not picky. Some days she wants to be the one taking care of others, and other days she wants to be the one being taken care of. I think both Malleus and Raven could be either; they both have their moments of maturity and immaturity that the other bounces off of like they’re a trained comedy duo. I mentioned here that maybe she’ll go to Briar Valley for her 4th year internship and develop stronger bonds with the Diasomnia characters (and mainly Malleus) through her work. I think maybe Lilia recognized those similarities and that’s why he’s so excited to that Malleus has found a potential friend of his own accord.

It’s usually Raven being the “Fairy Godmother” to others by writing the stories that others wish to see themselves in—but now Malleus has usurped the role for himself, and he’s her Fairy Godmother. I think Malleus likes to be the one making others happy (as some sort of coping mechanism for his own inadequacies). Book 7 is obviously one huge example, but another is Endless Halloween Night. His whole motivation for what he did was that ghosts that arrived late for the holiday wouldn’t feel like they had missed out. He also has a strong sense of duty and protectiveness to his people, stating that he was told that the Draconias are powerful so they can protect the smiles of their people. Malleus is… very socially awkward around his peers (to say the least), but his desire to make others happy even if the logic is sometimes twisted is genuine.

When I think about it, I feel as though this kind of sentiment would extend to how Malleus views Raven. Her entire existence is also one of loneliness and wishing to belong, but constantly gaslighting herself into thinking that she can’t be “a main character” like everyone else, that she’s just a footnote or a supporting character in the story. She’s an outcast, just like he is, even if for different reasons. Again, Maleficent and Diablo energy— That would probably make Malleus sympathize with her and want to ensure she has her “happy ending”.

As Raven spirals deeper and deeper into her dream, he looks on with pride. This is his work. He’s done go much good, Malleus tells himself. Just look at her big dumb grin. Then—suddenly—BAM!! The doors to the ball venue are kicked in, and the orchestral music screeches to a halt. In storm Yuu and Grim, flanked on either side by Silver and Sebek, their boots on the door they just took down. “We’ve come to rescue the princess.”

“She’s in need of no such thing. It is you who are the monsters come to steal her away and lock her in a tower,” Malleus would probably say. She’s in a confused daze, wondering why suddenly her classmates are acting “out of character” in her dream world. There’s supposed to be a musical number going on right now, not a fight about to break out on the dance floor.

“Raven, please listen to us. This—” Silver gestures to the glittering lights and decorations. All smoke and mirrors. “—none of it is real. You’re still Night Raven College’s storyteller. Our storyteller. Please… open your eyes! Wake up!!”

“Do not listen to a word he says. He is an uninvited guest come to crash the celebration.” A mist seems to fall over her eyes. Once so bright and filled with curiosity, now clouded over and dull. She quietly seeps back into the waiting arms of some fabricated mystery man promising to whisk her away.

“ROUSE YOURSELF AT ONCE, BIRD!! We didn’t come all this way to be turned away at the door!!” Sebek shouts, snapping her lucidity back for a second with the sheer magnitude of his volume. “HOW WEAK OF HEART YOU MUST BE TO SUCCUMB TO THESE LIES! I THOUGHT YOU STRONGER THAN THAT!”

“Sebek.” Malleus’s lip curls, his tone patient but dangerous. “So even you have turned traitor. What a plot twist for the pages.”

Sebek balks at his liege’s words—he’s having difficulties speaking his true feelings in front of the man he has revered his entire life. Guilt and shame fill him. That’s when Yuu steps up, Grim nestled in their arms.

“Miss Raven, let’s go home together,” Yuu suggests. “Everyone’s waiting for us. There’s so many stories left to tell.”

“Everyone… waiting? Stories to tell…” She blinks a few times—

“ENOUGH!!” Malleus’s voice thunders, loud enough to rattle the entire ballroom. “I will not allow one more second of this drivel. The young Crowley has dreamed her entire life of this very moment—yet you would rob her of it? I will put an end to this myself…! This story is mine to pen—for the sake of every single happy ending!!”