#One Winged Masquerade AU

[crisiscutie]

Dissidia Darling's Disaster Dates! Round 1: Sephiroth

In celebration of Rebirth's upcoming release, my blog's anniversary and the sad demise of Opera Omnia, I might just do a mini-dating series, set at the Gold Saucer. Let's see how it goes. Enjoy this scenario! Features slight Aerith/Darling.

Content Warning: Slightly NSFW. Yandere/toxic relationship. Blood. Some physical abuse. Emotional abuse and manipulation. Skinshipping. Lots of dialogue. Darling's POV is trippy and unreliable.

You looked around with worry, desperately searching for any sign of your allies. Somehow, you had become separated from Kadaj, Aerith and the others while exploring a haunted mansion. You looked all over this damn amusement park searching for them, but with no luck so far. Why the hell is everything so eerily quiet now? Everywhere you went, there didn't seem to be signs of life. But all the bright lights and machinery operated as normal, oddly enough. The round square is one of the last places you haven't checked, so you went there to see if they're around.

But the longer you walked, the hazier your vision became and your kimono felt constricted, causing you to readjust your obi. Maybe it's just your anxiety making you feel that way. But you hated being alone. You just need something, someone, to keep you from going mad. You didn't even notice a black feather landing on top of your head as you approached a gondola ride. Maybe this will lead you to the others? The reason you all came to this world was to hunt for crystals, but Aerith came up with the idea for everyone to take a break and enjoy themselves, which is why you opted to dress up. Kadaj and the others must be worried sick about you. You hoped that no monsters or summons had caused any trouble in your absence.

"...Are you lost?" a deep voice purred from behind you. Coming to a sudden stop, you turned hesitantly to face Sephiroth. His gaze was so intense that it practically rooted you to the earth, and your vision became clouded by a pink-purplish tint, blurring everything but him. The man who rescued when you first arrived in this universe, the one who masqueraded as your jaded, but caring mentor. He had treated you so well. But now, you knew the truth about him - he had used you for his own gain. What could he possibly offer you now that you knew his true nature? Yet, you're alone, with no one else by your side. The void was becoming unbearable. But the simple act of him offering his hand shattered your psychosis, bringing you back to reality. You couldn't resist the impulse to take his hand now, though it was against your judgment. When you took the final step into the gondola, your body stiffened, causing you to stumble and lose your balance, but Sephiroth acted swiftly. He caught you, wrapping his hand around your waist.

He pulled you close to him and your hands gravitated towards his chest as he leaned down to your level. And without warning, his luscious lips inched dangerously close to yours, making you gasped. He smirked, savoring the way you reacted and how you shifted uncomfortably. Then, he moved his lips to your ear, almost brushing against it, and spoke in a soft whisper.

"You know, you could thank me for catching you." He chuckled when you quickly took a step back, too flustered to respond. Though, he still kept his hold on your waist. With a heartfelt sigh, he reached out and took hold of your hand. His lips hovered above it as if he were about to kiss it, but instead, he lovingly nuzzled it against his cheek and closed his eyes. Your touch alone sent shocks of euphoria to his cold heart. Slowly, he guided your hand down his neck, collarbone, and chest, while wearing a euphoric smile that seared itself into your consciousness.

"I've missed you..." He then sat down on the seat, pulling you into his lap soon after. He gave your neck a small kiss before locking his slit eyes onto you. Even with all that transpired, every fiber of your being craved him. You wanted him to keep holding you, touching you, worshipping you. This had to be the reunion instincts Cloud and Vincent warned you about, it's a mix of unsettling rightness and wrongness that erupted goosebumps all over your body.

"Have you been keeping up with your sparring?" he asked, adopting the caring tone of a father checking on their child. You shyly mumbled a "yes," which earned you another sweet neck kiss from him.

"Good girl..."

"Why did you lie to me, Sephiroth?" you huffed out, as you tried to resist the reunion and the euphoria building up within you. Your face grew hot, and beads of sweat trickled down your forehead.

"I never lied to you, my darling. In fact, I played my role well. Guiding you in this realm was my duty. I was always there for you. And let's not forget, it was you who offered to help summon 'Mother' for me." As these words sunk in, your heart dropped.

"I... did.. But-"

"and you had to know that she didn't have a physical form," he interrupted you, still nuzzling into your neck. He had you cornered. What he said was certainly true, but there had to be some lie in there. Like the others told you, he's always lying... Right!?

"I NEVER AGREED TO BE ITS VESSEL!" you shouted, a surge of strength and anger flowed through you in that fleeting moment. In response, he erupted into a series of dark, eerie chuckles like a deranged maniac, almost as if he was emulating someone.

"Foolish girl," he hissed, his voice cutting through the gondola, making you feel like an unruly child being scolded. How else could she come into this realm without a beacon? You're the one who called her, so it's fitting she chose you. It is my duty to see this through, as her chosen son." His lips curled into a sneer as the horror and self-doubt washed over you like a wave. You had gotten yourself into this situation, but now you didn't know how to deal with it or even put an end to it. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, drawing him nearer to you. The expression on his face suddenly shifted from sadistic and smug to... almost comforting and warm?

"I know you're scared, darling," his voice was smooth and reassuring, almost hypnotic. "But I'm here for you, and we're in this together. Remember the good times we had? Do you really want to throw all of that away? We could rule this world, the entire cosmos, if you'd only come back to me." He finished his speech with a relaxed sigh. In one swift movement, he tore your kimono open, exposing your soft skin to the cool air. He then pressed his cheek against your upper chest, causing a sigh of pure bliss to escape your lips. He gave your collarbone a firm nip and left his mark, his slit eyes glowering at your belly with a solemn look when he's done.

"You are carrying our future within you," he whispered. "And soon, it will be born."

Afterwards, a blissful silence enveloped the gondola, as both of you became completely engrossed in each other's presence. You two just wanted to keep holding each other for eternity. Your trance started to end when you heard the familiar voice of Aerith calling out to you. You muttered her name in return and glanced out of the gondola's window to see her and the rest of the group waiting for you two at the final stop, weapons drawn and prepared.

"It seems like our time together has come to a close," he whispered, hissing softly in your ear. Your heart raced, and your vision blurred, focused on his alternating expressions, a sinister smirk, and a euphoric smile. His slit eyes widened, and his pupils dilated, fixated solely on you. As soon as you blinked, his Masamune blade was pressed against your neck, its icy touch leaving you paralyzed with fear. "If I take your head, darling, I can keep better track of you. No one will ever separate us." His velvety voice betrayed a glimmer of giddiness, revealing cracks in his composed demeanor.

"No! Don't do this! Nothing will come out of it!" you exclaimed. His blade barely moved, and already a small trickle of blood ran down your neck. You closed your eyes, hoping this nightmare would end soon.

"Nonsense, it will work just like last time, Mother," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing your left cheek. He slightly moved the blade again, the flow of blood increased. But then, his Masamune vanished, and he pressed his forehead against yours.

"The manifestation is not yet complete. Go on, my darling, continue filling your hollow heart with despair so that we may achieve the reunion we seek." After those words, he carefully and tenderly positioned your weakening body onto the seat, like a precious doll being prepared for exhibition. He kissed your foreheadbefore disappearing, leaving his dark feathers scattered around you. Your vision was clouded by that same pink-purplish tint from before as your body went completely limp, just as the gondola ride came to a hard stop.

The others were geared and ready for a fight when the gondola's doors automatically opened, but they were surprised to see Sephiroth gone already. Aerith was the first to rush inside, making a beeline for you. As she examined your body for injuries, she noticed something peculiar when she looked into your dull eyes - a brief, faint pink glow. Her gasp was followed by her gaze drifting downward, where she spotted a strange dark feather resting on your swollen collarbone, covering Sephiroth's lovebite. With a grimace, she gently removed the feather, watching it disintegrate in her hand. It was undoubtedly his twisted way of asserting ownership over you, a taunt to her and the others about your impending "destiny". Despite her efforts to lift you to your feet, your body remained dead weight, making it impossible to get you up.

"Zack, I need your help!" she yelled. He nodded, quickly rushing over and utilizing his SOLDIER strength to carry you out of the gondola.

Your last thought before fully losing consciousness in Zack's arms was whether there was time to enjoy the fun night with other dates. Got those priorities straight, don't you darling?

Date rating: 2/10.

Sephy tried, but he just couldn't help himself after being separated from darling for far too long. 😔 As I said, I might make a mini-dating series with other FF characters.

#sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 sephiroth #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #doll darling #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #dissidia final fantasy #dissidia final fantasy opera omnia #aerith x reader #one winged masquerade AU #aerith gainsborough #aerith gainsborough x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #x reader #female reader #fem reader #reader x character #final fantasy vii #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere imagine #tw: emotional abuse #tw: abuse #tw: yandere #tw: blood #tw: violence #yandere fanfiction

[papiliomame]

Ectoberweek 2023 Day 29: Masquerade

SPOILER FOR A GLITCH IN TIME!

I recently rewatched the endings of the anime "Durarara!!" and I was thinking that so many versions of Danny popped up throughout the years, it is time for a Danno-tower.

I limited myself to 15 versions and a few other AUs sprinkled here and there because 1) this artwork is already long enough and 2) there are so many AUs and different designs I would need much more time to draw them all.

Here is a list of what AUs are shown here in no particular order and if possible where I could manage to pinpoint the origin of the AU:

Human Danny(Canon)

Ghost Danny(Canon)

End of AGIT Dan Phantom ( A Glitch in Time graphic novel)

Ghost King Danny

DCxDP ( I just put Batman in there as a representative for the whole DC cast)

Crypid/Monster Danny

Spider Danno (dannypocalypse)

Full Hazmat Danny (Mask by @in-the-ghost-mode)

Disabled AU ( I think this post by @madametamma made this AU more known in the phandom on tumblr but I personally encountered this AU in Everything was White by @lexosaurus which the release of the first chapter predates the post)

Little Baby Man (@tourettesdog)

Clown Danny (@letswonderspirit)

Coffee Ghost Danny (@typo-art)

Winged Danny(@the-stove-is-on-fire)

Merman Danny (not sure about this one, but my guess it's from the "Mermay" art event which occur on several social media sites?)

Lab rat Danny

Team Halloween (@the-stove-is-on-fire and @healthysharkshealthyocean fic Ghost in the NYC and the comics)

Shared Cujostody AU(@duchi-nesten)

Wes and Kyle Weston(not sure where the origin is but @lexosaurus made a whole dossier about him here, there are also infos how Kyle Weston came to be)

Dani Masters( a variation of this is the Cheese Melt AU by @lilianade-comics)

I hope those are the correct, for everything else I couldn't really find where they originated from.

This idea was original for the "ten years" prompt but after some work I conclude this fits more the "masquerade" prompt, because AUs are kind of a masquerade to the canon.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2023 #day 29 #masquerade #agit spoilers #agit #danny fenton #just danny #danno-tower #dpxdc #dcxdp #digital illustration #my art

[borathae]

"All it takes is one evening of getting Yoongi drunk to find out just how needy this man can actually get. Alternatively: Yoongi is drunk and that means his restraints are gone. So he decides to ride you, because that's all he really wants to do."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Yoongi, Dom!Reader, he is cute & a lil bratty & also a total painslut, then his instincts kick in and he becomes so fucking needy, like SO NEEDY, she is so gentle but also slaps his face like twice, she calls him a good boy & a slut, consensual drunk sex, needy pegging in cowboy & lotus position, lotsa making out, butt spanking, cock slapping, anal fingering, handjob, blowjob, edging (m.receiving), multiple orgasms (m.& f.receiving), prostate milking, so much cum, so much drool, he squirts, belly bulging :’), vaginal fingering, he has his fangs out, biting, a very vocal Yoongi, i just need him to know that he is cute, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: this is Sanguis!Yoongi when he is drunk and trusts her completely. It's so cute and hot and I just want him to be happy. hahah help me. I love them so much, I'm gonna rip off my own face skin and cry about them

“I wanna be fucked”, Yoongi whines against your neck, pressing your hand to his clothed crotch. He begins rubbing himself against it, lips parting in a needy moan.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanna be fucked, please”, he is lulling his words, tugging you closer as he tries to get your hand inside his pants. 

“And you decided that in the middle of the hallway?” you laugh, feeling your stomach tingle in excitement. He is so needy. It’s so hot when he is.

“Yeah”, he whines, “come please. Come”, he orders in a huff of air and tugs you with him as he stumbles to your wing. 

“Okay, okay I'm already coming. Holy moly, you really didn’t do well with that wine, did you?”

“No”, Yoongi giggles the word. Yeah. He giggles. He giggles as he shakes his head and lifts his shoulders to his ears, adding two little skips into his steps on top of that.

“Okay, wait. Love, slow-“

The door falls closed.

Your back hits it. 

Yoongi cages you in and grabs your face to kiss you. 

Deep.

Passionate.

Needy.

And sloppy. 

He tastes like desire and wine. He sounds desperate. Feels like fucking heaven. His knee is between your legs, punching up the fabric of your floor length dress and grinding right against your pussy. The thin fabric of your panties does little to mask how amazing his thigh feels. 

“Fuck Yoongi”, you rasp, tilting your head back. The kiss breaks but he litters your neck with wet kisses instantly. 

“Fuck me”, Yoongi answers you in a keen, dragging his tongue up your pulse point until he ends it with a flick right under your ear, “wanna be fucked, please”, he begs in a whisper, letting his voice tickle your ear.

You went out tonight. Like every year, the university hosted its late autumn masquerade ball and like always, you wanted to go. As did Taehyung and the boys of former Sanguis and, well, Yoongi wanted to go too once he saw how excited you were. He went with a suit and black mask like every year, while you went with the prettiest dress inspired by the Regency period and an intricately done venetian mask. Taehyung made it for you. Your masks have long been discarded by the front door. As has Yoongi’s long coat somewhere on the endless hallways of the estate. 

You had so much fun at the ball. There was zero drama and even less danger. Just dancing, laughter and way too much booze. One should also mention that you did a lot of making out and that Hoseok ended up winning the costume contest with his realistic Mothman costume (it looked hotter than it sounds, promise). Back to the booze however. You drank a lot, all of you, to the point where you had to call a cab back to the estate because none of you were able to drive. Yes, even Yoongi. The Creator who normally never gets drunk because he'll heal before that could happen. Not tonight however, no amount of healing will get this man sober again. And you love it because drunk Yoongi means clingy Yoongi and that’s one of your favourites. 

Most of you arrived home safely except for Hoseok who refused to come as he met a woman at the ball and he wanted to spend the night with her. The others were all busy too. At Seokjin's place. No further details needed. 

Which left you and Yoongi stumbling to your wing and Yoongi acting the horniest you have ever witnessed him act. 

You witnessed Yoongi drunk one time before tonight. It was back when you were still on the road and you came back from a dance. That night will always stay in your memories. It truly will.  

Yoongi swoops you off your feet, making you squeak because you didn’t expect it.

He grunts, swaying from side to side dangerously. 

“Don’t drop me, I’m serious”, you warn in a laugh. 

“I’ve got you”, he lulls, stumbling down the hallways, “kiss me, wanna be kissed please.”

“Mhm my prince”, you sigh, kissing him gladly. 

It was strange at first to return to university after everything you went through. People looked at you weird, but you tried to ignore them. The masquerade ball is too much fun to miss out on. Especially this year when the world was finally safe. Even Yoongi let loose, asking you for one dance in the ballroom while the others got drunk in the disco. It was very nice, but also the moment you realised just how wasted Yoongi was as he whined about how pretty you were in front of other people and he never does that. 

Thump. 

“Ah Yoongs”, you gasp. 

“Sorry.”

Yoongi just hit the door with your back, now fumbling with the doorknob to open it. 

“You said you’ll be careful”, you whine. 

“Sorry”, he tries to kiss you, “don’t be mad. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I guess”, you giggle, “what are you doing?” 

“Tryna open the door. Is it stuck or something, the fuck?” he tries to wiggle the doorknob. 

“You gotta push.”

Yoongi does it with little pressure. The door opens instantly. 

“Oh”, he lets out, sneaky a shy glance at you, “I knew that.”

“Mhm sure”, you say and chuckle, “kiss me, you idiot.”

“You's mean”, he mumbles and leans in to kiss you. He stumbles to your bed, dropping you on top of it and without ever breaking the kiss, he climbs atop your lap. He plops down, moving his hips back and forth in a needy grind while his hands are cradling your face. Your legs are tangling over the edge, as are his feet. 

“I'm mean?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“Yeah. You messing with my heart. It keeps racing”, he says, guiding your hand to his chest, “feel it.”

“Yoongs, your heart stopped beating three thousand years ago.”

“Oh yeah”, he flutters his lashes, “doesn’t matter. Being with you's making me feel flutters in it”, he says, tapping his chest with your hand, “right there. Tingles so much.”

You twist his shirt and pull him close. Yoongi falls with a surprised gasp, gasping again when you kiss him deeply. He grows limp atop of you, except for his hips. They begin wiggling like crazy. And his feet. He begins kicking them happily. 

He cups your face, breaking the kiss solely for the purpose of littering your face in big smooches. 

“Loveyou, you's the best, loveyousomuch”, he slurs his words but they are clear to you. 

“You are so drunk”, you giggle in a squeak.

“Ye, drunk on you”, he retorts, wiggling cutely, “is what you said to me. Remember?”

“Ye. I do.”

Yoongi kisses up and down your nose, moving on to your left cheek. He makes loud kissing noises, mixing in the occasional "mwuah" or a lulled confession of his eternal love. 

Truly, drunk Yoongi is the most precious treasure on earth. Freed of his restraints and anxiety, he finally becomes who he wants to be deep down. This is him. This is the real Yoongi. And you can’t get enough of him.

Yoongi ends his love attack by sucking in your cheek and biting it gently. 

“Ah Yoongi”, you gasp, moving away. 

He releases you with a bop, gawking at you with puckered lips. 

“What?”

“You bit me.”

“I did not.”

You snicker, reaching up it squish his cheeks.

“You're so cute.”

He huffs out air, cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips, using his tongue for it until you moan and kiss him back with just as much passion. 

Yoongi is the best kisser on earth. No. In the universe. Gentle but so passionate. Sweet but so rough. Loving and oh so skilled. Kissing him is paradise. Kissing him while you are both stupidly drunk? The best experience ever. You don’t ever want to stop. He makes you so happy. He feels so right. He is so perfect. 

Overwhelmed by your feelings you break the kiss to litter his face with kisses.

“My cutie. My Yoongi Boongie. My handsome prince”, you mumble, kissing every inch of his perfect face.

Yoongi lets it happen with squeezed shut eyes and his prettiest gummy smile. He kicks his feet the whole time, wiggling his hips because nothing in the world could contain the happiness he currently feels.

You end your love attack by kissing his lips, falling back into the most passionate kiss ever. You are smiling so much, holding each other, feeling so high on one another. 

His fingers begin fumbling with your dress. Clumsily and without any sort of plan in mind. Their only goal is to get you out of that dress. 

“Shit. Goddamn it”, Yoongi breaks the kiss to curse under his breath.

“What's wrong?”

“Your dress's not opening. Why's it not opening?”

“Maybe ‘cause you're tugging on the collar instead of the lacing?” 

“Oh”, his fingers slip, “I knew that. Just wanted to test you”, he mumbles, changing his grip to finally open your dress. 

“Yeah, sure you did”, you say in a chuckle.

You sit up to help him, giggling when Yoongi gets off your lap to fall to his knees before you. He tugs the dress down your legs, caressing your ankles as he helps you step out of the big heap of fabric. He discards it on the floor and moves on to taking off your shoes. 

Once they are discarded as well, he lowers himself to place a worshipping kiss upon your left instep. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes mesmerised by him. You are towering over him atop your big bed while he lays worshiping by your feet. You feel hot all over because of it. 

Yoongi kisses your right instep as well, ending it with a little hiccup.

“Scuse me”, he lifts his head, “I'm so drunk. You have really pretty feet.”

“Well thank you, my prince”, you say and giggle, lifting your foot to dance it up and down the buttons of his dress shirt. Yoongi arches into the touch, presenting his palms on his lap as if he was made to do so. 

He is fully dressed while you are barely clothed. Only a matching set of satin lingerie is keeping you modest. Yoongi can’t seem to take his eyes off of it, breathing heavily while his thighs squeeze together desperately. 

“Can I see you tonight?” you ask him, trying to open his bow tie with your toes. You are failing miserably.

Yoongi replaces your toes with his fingers, opening the tie and letting it drop on the ground. He begins opening his dress shirt afterwards, submissive eyes glued to your face. This is his answer. He feels really sexy tonight. He knows that it is because of the booze. The knowledge doesn’t stop him, on the contrary, it encourages him. If he ends up doing something embarrassing, he can just blame it on being too drunk and then you won’t be able to judge him. He feels so confident tonight. Confident and like the hottest person ever born. 

He drops his shirt on the floor, gasping softly when you stop his fingers from opening his belt by stepping on his hand. 

“Stand up”, you order.

Yoongi obeys, getting to his feet before you. You tug him closer by his belt. Yoongi stumbles with wobbly knees, feeling his stomach tingle. He loves it so much when you are rough with him. He stumbles, catching himself on your shoulder. 

“Careful”, you giggle, hugging his middle with your cheeks squished against his soft tummy. 

“Sorry, is really hard to stand”, he lulls, hugging you back.

“I know, I’ll be fast”, you say, placing a loving kiss on his tummy before lifting your head. You smile at him, eyes spilling over with love. You are still hugging his waist, “you're so handsome, my love.”

“Thanks”, Yoongi mumbles, swaying his shoulders from side to side. Your sweet words only strengthen tonight's feelings. He is so, so sexy and handsome. Yoongi loves feeling that way. It makes his tummy all tingly and his brain all fuzzy. 

You turn your head and bite him. 

“Ah”, he gasps, cupping your head. 

It was a gentle bite. Nothing more than a nibble of love. But it was on his tummy. And his tummy is terribly sensitive. Yoongi rubs his thighs together, swaying like crazy.

“Don't do that”, he whines. 

You release his skin, “why?” you ask, gazing up at him with sparkly eyes.

“Feels so much”, he whispers, scratching the spot you bit. 

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Ye.”

You scrunch your nose up, giving him a blinding smile. One last kiss to his tummy and you sadly release him, moving on to getting his pants down. He slips out of his shoes as you work, wanting to waste as little time as possible.

The belt buckle hits his thigh as you let it fall open. It doesn't hurt, merely making a metallic clinking sound. 

Yoongi is holding his breath, looking down at you with his lower lip between his teeth. You are opening his pants. One button at a time until it is finally done. You run your hands to his butt, slipping them inside the pants and tugging them down but not before squeezing his round buttocks. 

He gasps because of it, feeling dizzy. The pants fall down, pooling by his feet. You touch his hips, tugging him closer. Yoongi steps out of his clothes, finally he is freed of them. He would feel really self conscious on other days, but tonight he feels good. He is so handsome when he is naked. That’s how he feels. 

Your eyes are glued to his clothed cock. It is already straining the fabric of his black briefs. 

“All mine”, you whisper, making his knees buckle. 

“___”, he moans your name, climbing onto your lap messily. He grinds against your thighs instantly, kissing you with a needy mewl.

You chuckle because the kiss surprised you, breaking it just so you can grin at him. 

“I'm yours”, he lulls, “is true. All yours”, he says, fighting you gently just so he can kiss you again.

“You're so freaking cute”, you say, “goddamn it Yoongi, I love you like crazy.”

“Love you too”, he mumbles, hiding his giddiness by pushing you into the sheets and burying his face in your neck. He begins kissing your skin instantly, nibbling and sucking on it until you feel lightheaded. The thing with Yoongi is that he loves biting. Obviously because he is a vampire. He loves biting, but he doesn’t want to go too far, which results in those really tingly and gentle bites all over your body. And they drive you insane. Truly insane.

Yoongi whines, lifting his head. He is pouting at you.

“Why? What’s wrong now?” you whine and chuckle.

“I wanna suck your tits. Why do you have a bra on?”

“Tzt, crybaby”, you arch your back off the mattress, “open it.”

Yoongi follows gladly, opening the clasp in the back and pulling the straps off your arms. He throws the piece of clothing over his back.

“That's really expensive, just saying”, you snicker.

“Is fine”, he dismisses you and gathers your breasts just to bury his face in them. 

“Mhhm Yoongi”, you sigh, closing your eyes in delight. His lips are so soft, his tongue so eager. He is nibbling again, biting and sucking every inch of your chest without ever going too far. It feels so good. His fingers caress your skin as he kisses you. He adds just a little bit of strength every now and then, sending electric sparks through your veins each time he does. 

Yoongi giggles, kicking his feet happily. He is so, so happy. You are so perfect and the fact that he can kiss you feels so, so good. 

He lifts his head only to rest his cheek on your breasts, sparkly eyes gazing up at you. 

“You're so pretty”, he whispers, sparkles in his eyes growing, “and soft and warm and perfect. You's so perfect.”

You smile, running the back of your hand over his cheek, “you're so cute.”

Yoongi looks away, wiggles and then attacks you with the tightest hug in human history. You squeak, allowing him to shake you around as he does everything in his power to squeeze you against him. 

Somehow in the sweet mess of it all, he managed to change positions so you were fully resting on the bed now, heads supported by pillows and toes facing the foot end. 

Yoongi breaks the hug, but stays close enough that he can kiss your neck. He is humping the side of your leg, panting against your skin. 

One arm is still under your head while the other is draped over your tummy. Not for long however, just as Yoongi begins mewling softly and his cock is oh so hard against your leg, his hand begins traveling down your body, soon disappearing inside your panties. 

You open your legs happily, sighing his name when his fingers begin feeling up your pussy. 

“So wet”, he whispers, drawing circles on your soaked entrance.

“It's your fault”, you answer him in a sigh. 

Yoongi snorts and giggles, rubbing against you in a giddy squirm.

“You always say so much”, he whines, “so mean.”

“I'm not mean I'm-oh”, you struggle with your words because Yoongi just buried two of his fingers inside of you and is now moving them in and out carefully, “I-I'm telling the…truth.”

Oh, he's got you so sensitive already. Being with Yoongi does that to you. You like him so, so much and being with him makes you so eager for his touches that whenever he finally gives them to you, you can barely even handle them. It feels so nice to be touched by Yoongi. Especially when he is as perfect and cute and amazing as he is tonight. 

You slip your hand into his briefs, palming his cock.

“Wait”, he gasps, tensing up.

“What's wrong? Don’t want it?”

“No, is just that. Wanna be naked.” 

He abandons you for just a second as he wiggles out of his briefs. You do the same, watching him with the biggest heart eyes ever. Whatever was in the wine tonight made him brave. You are so giddy. Normally it takes Yoongi at least an hour of sex to feel safe enough to undress and now he is doing it willingly during foreplay. He is so perfect when he is like that. 

Yoongi drops into the sheets and shimmies back to you. You roll to your side, kissing his lips with sighs of his name. Yoongi purrs, kissing you back with a dizzy head. It happens naturally that his hand slips back between your legs. You lift your leg, draping it over his hips to give him better access. Yoongi buries his fingers back in your pussy, forcing a shudder to run through you. 

“Feels so good”, you whisper.

“Good, you’re so pretty”, he whispers.

“Yoongi.”

“What's it?”

“Yoongi, you feel so good”, you sigh, gazing into his eyes. 

He seems mesmerised by you, eyes racing between yours. 

“I'm so drunk”, he whispers. 

“Me too”, you snicker.

“You're not real. I'm so drunk, you can’t be real”, he lulls.

“Does that feel real?” you ask him, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You give him slow strokes up and down as best as possible in the position, putting more pressure each time you reach his tip. 

“Y-yeah”, Yoongi croaks, squeezing his eyes shut, "oh god", he huffs out and whimpers softly.

“It's real, Yoongs”, you promise him.

“You's real”, he sighs, throbbing in your hand, “I'm so lucky”, he adds in a barely there whisper. 

“I'm lucky too”, you breathe, closing your eyes as you fall into the sensation. 

Soft moans, gasps for air, sounds of eager touches. The room fills with the melodies of your pleasure, mixing with the ruffling of sheets and the sounds of kissing each time one of you steals a kiss or two. You both know you won’t be able to orgasm soon. You are too drunk for that. But you don’t mind because it’s so goddamn amazing to be close and to touch each other and to feel those nice tingles of a loving hand for as long as you want to. You don’t want to climax because being with each other like that, all dizzy and droopy and bursting with happiness, is the best reward ever. 

Yoongi stubs you with his nose, calling your attention. Your eyes meet. He looks so droopy. His face is glowing now that you are sharing so much heat with each other. 

“Finger me”, he lulls. 

Your hand around his cock falters.

“I'm sorry?” you gasp. 

“Want your fingers up my butt. Please”, he begs, wiggling his hips. 

“Hot. What the hell? Hot?”

“Please?”

“Uh heck yeah? This is the hottest thing you ever said. Let me just get the lube.”

You hate that you have to end the amazing thing you currently had going on, but this is more important. Yoongi never asks for things. At least not for himself. He'll take what you give him, but he will never ask for more. Even while you are doing something he won’t ask for another spot to be touched and you are left figuring it out yourself by accidentally touching his favourite spots and making his body shake involuntarily. So to have him ask you to do something to him, especially butt stuff, makes you want to squeal. This is the best night ever. 

Yoongi is on his back once you return, welcoming you back by grabbing your waist and scrunching his nose up.

“I can't believe you're letting me do that to you.”

“Want it so bad”, Yoongi says and opens his legs, “is that good? Want another position?”

“No. No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect”, you say, having to kiss him because otherwise you would have exploded in emotion. He is the best person ever. 

Yoongi kisses you back, mewling quietly. 

“You're so perfect. My perfect man”, you mumble, feeling him up desperately. 

Yoongi barely handles the touches, writhing under you with flutters in his tummy. His skin is so sensitive. Your palm is so soft and warm. He can’t handle how good you make him feel. 

The kiss breaks once you reach his inner thighs, Yoongi has more important things to do. Like gasp your name and part his pouty lips. His skin feels electric wherever you touch it.

“The prettiest. You’re so pretty”, you praise, “and soft. Why are you so soft?” 

“I'm soft”, he repeats, wiggling his toes. 

“Yeah you are. Wanna keep squeezing you”, you say, squishing his inner thigh right next to his cock. 

Yoongi keens, parting his legs more. It tickles, but also feels intense. His cock begins aching because of it, yearning for a touch. 

You don’t give it to him, which he dislikes at first until he can feel your touch on his balls. You massage them gently, forcing the warmest sparks to course through his tummy. 

“Except for there. You’re so hard”, you say, squeezing them until it hurts. 

Yoongi gasps, opening his legs further. His balls feel like bursting. 

Slap. 

“Mo-oh my god”, he chokes out and arches his back.

“That was a reward for being so cute”, you tell him.

“Want it again”, he begs, touching your tummy with shaky fingers. He scratches your skin softly, “please.”

And because he is so adorable right now, you can’t deny him. You slap his balls a second time, ending it with a harsh squeeze. 

Yoongi moans in gratefulness, letting his eyes fall closed by rolling them back first. 

“You're so sexy like this. Fuck, Yoongi”, you rasp, spanking him one last time before moving on to a new spot. You know better than to keep going. Yoongi can - and did - cum from cock torture and you don’t want this to happen. Yet. 

Yoongi wants to complain at first, but doesn’t when he feels your fingers brush against his hole. Just once and nothing more than a feather light touch. He is so sensitive that it felt a million times more intense however. He chases you, tilting his hips to make it easier for you. He drops them again the second you touch him, veins filling with tingles.

You put more pressure than last time, drawing circles. 

“Feels so good”, he sighs, seeking you by rolling his head to the side. Like this he can almost bury his face in your tits. 

“And I haven’t even started yet”, you whisper, sending shivers down his spine. You sound so confident. Yoongi feels dizzy. You are so hot like this. 

Your touch retreats for a moment. A click lets Yoongi know that you are covering your fingers in lube. Another click as you close the bottle then you touch his rim. 

“Ah”, he gasps, twitching in surprise. 

“Sorry, was that too cold?”

“No, is good”, he says, shivering when you begin moving, “is so good. You so good.”

“You're so sensitive”, you put the slightest sound of teasing into your voice, making Yoongi huff out air. 

He flusters way too easily. He can’t bear to be teased. Especially not tonight when his senses are so heightened because of the booze. Of course he is sensitive. He danced with you and kissed you and you called him handsome so many times. He had to get sensitive. It was unavoidable. 

“Now take a deep breath for me”, you whisper.

Yoongi obeys, releasing it a second later despite his efforts. He can’t help it, your finger is in his ass and that feels so good.

“Slipped right in. Wow my Boongie, you’re so greedy, aren’t you?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“Love your finger. Is so good.”

“Of course you do”, you whisper, moving it in and out of him slowly. To get him used to it. To feel him up. To enjoy his tight warmth for as long as possible. 

“Don't stop”, he whispers, adding a breathy “please” as he widens his eyes at you. His pouty lips are parted and his sparkly eyes widened. He looks so cute right now. 

“Oh my Boongie, you’re so cute”, you giggle, scrunching your nose up before leaning down and rubbing the tip of your nose against his’. His eyes flutter closed, a sigh slips past his lips, “my dearest love”, you whisper, curling your finger in search for his favourite spot. 

“Good, is good it’s- ah, a-ah”, Yoongi gets out, voice pitched in surprised pleasure.

“There? Right there?” you ask, massaging the spot inside of him.

Yoongi opens his legs, thighs twitching involuntarily. He purrs deeply, scrunching his nose up as he nods his head. 

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, drinking in his expression, “you're taking me so well, my prince.”

It is fascinating just how tight and warm he feels around you. Truly, Yoongi’s warmth is so addicting and quite frankly, adorable as well. You realised that whenever he is close to you and he feels especially happy, he becomes warmer than on normal days. As if your presence in itself gives him enough nutrition for his body to heat up. You love to cuddle him whenever that happens, which results in Yoongi purring happily and becoming even warmer. 

“You're burning up, love”, you whisper, kissing his temple. 

“Feels so good”, Yoongi sighs, “one more, please.”

You slip your ring finger inside, eliciting a raspy purr from him. It vibrates deep in his chest and is filled with his honest bliss.

“Like this?”

He nods his head, cock twitching angrily as you scissor your fingers.

“You're so tight, I’m surprised that you can take me.”

Yoongi peels his eyes open, frowning at you.

“What?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Don't slutshame me.”

“Slutshame you?” You snort, “what are you talking about?”

Yoongi closes his eyes, “shut up.”

“No, no I'm not. Are you telling me that you’re my slut? Mhm Yoongi? Is that it?”

“No it’s not. Stop. Take your fingers out. I don’t want it.”

“No? You don’t? So if I do this, you don’t want it?” you challenge, curling your fingers against his prostate. You begin massaging it, forcing him to gasp and shudder. 

You get to your knees between his legs and wrap your hand around his cock. 

“And if I do this, you don’t want it?” you taunt, jerking him off quickly as you continue fingering his greedy bum. Quick and hard, just like you jerk off his leaking cock. It’s what deserves for pretending that he isn’t into it.

Yoongi squeaks and grips your hand with trembling fingers. He writhes, thighs trying to close in a desperate attempt to flee from the harsh fingering. It’s too much, Yoongi doesn’t know how to handle it. It feels too good.

“Mhm? If I do this, you don’t want it? Mhm?” you challenge with hunger in your eyes. He is shaking so much, it’s so cute. His bum looks so good taking the harsh finger fuck, his cock is all twitchy and leaky. 

“___”, Yoongi gasps and lets out a loud “ah” followed by a whiney moan. He is trying so hard to get your hand to stop, weak fingers barely closing around your wrist.

“So cute. You’re so cute when you're shaking. You’re such a cute, little slut, Yoongi love. Such a cutie”, you coo, forcing his cock to leak all over your fingers.

“Please not so, so fast”, he begs, squeezing your wrist weakly.

“Why?”

“Cum”, he gets out and arches his back with a whiney little sound escaping him. 

He feels fucked. Your fingers are so fast and know exactly where to touch. It’s like you're already fucking him. That, mixed with the dizziness of the booze and Yoongi swears he is going to crumble any second now.

“Please slow”, he begs, gasping for air. 

“Cute”, you rasp and slow down, but only so you could take him into your mouth. Yoongi arches off the mattress, fingers twisting the sheets and cute hole squeezing around your digits. You are fucking them in and out of him slowly and to their fullest, giving Yoongi a taste of how it feels to be stretched out over and over again. He takes you so well, sounding oh so perfect doing it. 

“No please”, he gasps, “___, please”, he whimpers, throbbing in your mouth. 

He tastes so good. Like desperation and pleasure. You love it so much, slurping it up hungrily. His cock fits down your throat so nicely. Yoongi normally hates it when you deep throat him. Not because he dislikes the feeling, on the contrary he loves it, but because he is always scared that he will make you gag and therefore uncomfortable. He doesn’t have to worry about that tonight, because you are drunk. And when you are drunk, your gag reflex ceases to exist. It’s probably the added boost of confidence. You won’t ever complain, it feels so fucking empowering to be able to take his entire cock down your throat without needing to gag. 

Yoongi is appreciating it as well, thighs trembling like crazy and hole pulsating around your fingers.

“You're really un-unfair”, he stutters, punching up the sheets with his toes as he curls them. Nothing else helps. He is getting his ass fingered and his cock throat fucked. He wasn’t ready for what he bargained for when he asked you to finger him. You are too good and way too eager to destroy him. 

You slip off of him, allowing your drool to drip down on him. It runs down his veiny shaft until it soils his dark pubes, marking him as your property. 

“So you don’t want this?” you rasp, playing with your spit, “mhm? You don’t want any of it?”

Yoongi swallows heavily, recovering for a short moment with quick pants for air. 

You pull your fingers out, anticipating his reaction.

“No”, he whines breathily, “no, back. Please back”, he whispers and you hear him.

You do. But you want to tease him. You press your wet fingers against his soft rim, drawing slow circles on it. It’s remarkable how relaxed and loosened up he already feels. 

“Back”, he breathes.

“Mhm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you”, you tease.

Yoongi places his hands on the back of your head, pushing you down shyly. He bucks his hips up, hitting your nose with his cock. It makes you giggle because it was funny to be nudged with his cock.

“Please”, he whispers. 

“You're so fucking cute”, you gush, taking him back into your mouth. He glides over your tongue until your throat hugs him tightly. Only then, do you stuff your fingers back into him, using your wrist to control the movements. Deep and quickened and just enough to force him to twitch inside your mouth over and over again. You moan deliciously and begin bopping your head up and down, going fast because it makes him whine so cutely. 

Yoongi grips the sheets again, hitting his head against the pillow twice before he decides to arch his back instead.

“More fingers please”, he begs, shaking when you purr around his cock. Deeply and deliciously. The stretch of his hole which follows makes him shake again. You listened, now burying your pointer finger in his butt as well. Deep and so thick. Your fingers in that position stretch him out so much.

“___”, Yoongi moans, “___ please. Please.”

Yoongi is awkward. About literally everything, but especially about his sexuality. Now. He never looked for labels or definitions. If a person attracts him sexually then so be it, he never cared about what was between their legs or what that would make him. He does care about how he fucks however, what he receives and how he receives it. Because receiving is hard for him, especially butt stuff. He doesn’t let anyone other than you close to this part of his body. It’s too intimate, makes him too vulnerable and requires a level of trust only you – and maybe Jungkook – achieved. So yes, Yoongi is awkward about butt stuff. Even if he loves it so much. So, so much. But this right here? This right here makes him want to keep begging you and act like a complete slut. This is the endgame. The real deal and he is burning up. 

“Thank you”, he croaks, thighs shaking each time you fuck your fingertips against his prostate. 

You moan around his cock, sending sparks through his veins. He is too sensitive.

“I'm gonna- ah”, he gasps, gripping your hair and twisting it desperately, “you're making me cum”, he croaks, relaxing his muscles in preparation for the warmest most amazing high ever. 

Stop. 

Pain and suffering. 

Agony. 

Yoongi has to sob and writhe.

You stopped. 

Slipped off his cock, removed your fingers. They are gripping his thighs now, forcing him to stay open even if all he wants to do is close his legs and rub them together. 

You laugh. Tauntingly and with enough craze in it to make Yoongi’s skin crawl in hot, dumb pleasure. 

“You didn’t actually think that I'd let you cum did you?” you ask and laugh, “oh Yoongi, you’re so gullible.”

Yoongi whines and wraps his fingers around his cock, trying to jerk it off. Anything please.

Slap! 

You slapped them away instantly.

“Ah”, he gasps, peeling his eyes open just in time to watch you place yourself atop of him. His legs, you force to stay open by keeping his thighs thrown over yours. Like this, your crotch is pressed right against his ass, taunting him because there is no cock inside him but all he wants is for you to stuff him with your strap. 

His grabby, misbehaving hands you pin right above his head, digging your fingers into him in a strong grip. 

“Keep those hands where they belong. Hear me?” you growl. 

Yoongi rarely falls into subspace. Entering that state means giving up control and letting another person see the part of him he is most ashamed of. He thinks there is nothing wrong with wanting to be like that when other people want it, but he thinks it’s embarrassing when he wants to be like that. You however make it easy to fall. And fun. And quite frankly you make him love every fucking second of it. He feels so tiny and weak and that’s all he wants right now. That and your strap.

“Yeah”, he gets out.

“You do? So why did you try to touch yourself, mhm?”

“I'm a slut”, he lulls, going dizzy under your piercing gaze.

“No, that’s not it is it? Tell me the truth.”

Yoongi shakes his head, earning himself an aggressive roll of your hips. He mewls, wishing for another one.

“Tell me Yoongi, tell me.”

“I'm a brat”, he keens, rubbing himself against you by wiggling his hips needily. He needs the friction, needs to feel as if you are already fucking him. Oh god, it doesn’t feel the same. Yoongi wants to cry, why doesn’t it feel the same? He needs to be fucked so bad. 

“Exactly. You’re a brat”, you rasp, abandoning his wrists to scratch down his arms. 

Yoongi keeps them above his head naturally, mewling your name with closed eyes. He opens them a second later when you slap his face and therefore surprise him. They are widened and glassy, looking at you with so much submission burning in them. You slap his other cheek, gripping his face right afterwards. Your fingers dig into his cheeks as you keep him hostage.

“Don't look at me like that. It makes me feel bad that I had to slap you”, you rasp, forcing even more submission into his droopy gaze. “What's wrong?” the question may be of nurturing nature, but Yoongi knows your true intentions behind it. This is to mock him, to force him to voice his wishes even if it embarrasses him so, so much. He wants to kiss the ground you walk on. You are so mean and perfect. 

“Fuck me”, he gets out, feeling his cheeks heat up instantly. 

“That's not very polite of you, is it?”

“Fuck me please. Please. Please fuck me”, he begs, trembling desperately. He wants to burst, he is so embarrassed and weak and fucking sensitive. He should stop humping you like a needy dog, because it makes him want to cum but he can’t stop. It feels so good to grind against you. 

“There we go. That’s better”, your features soften in fondness, “you’re so perfect when you’re being my good boy”, you praise, releasing his cheeks to instead caress them gently.

There you go again. Messing with him. To go from slapping his face and calling him a slutty brat to caressing his cheeks and calling him your good boy. Yoongi can’t handle it. He felt so perfectly degraded only to be lifted and be made feeling like the most treasured person on earth. He is too drunk and giddy for that.

Yoongi whines and throws his hands over his face, kicking the sheets.

“Please just do it, why are you so mean?” he mewls.

“Why?” you giggle, tugging his hands away to beam at him, “why are you so shy, huh? It’s just me.”

“Yeah, it’s you. Exactly”, he pouts.

Your eyes soften. You rest your chin on his hands as you hold them.

“You’re so cute”, you whisper, stubbing him with your nose. Yoongi closes his eyes, chasing you with a tilt of his head. You stay, whispering the words against his lips, “do you wanna be my good boy and get the strap for me, mhm?”

He nods his head in obedience.

“Good boy, such a good boy”, you praise, rolling off of him, “off you go, get my strap”, you order him and as Yoongi climbs out of bed, you can’t help yourself and slap his butt just once.

“Hey”, he complains, pouting at you with furrowed brows.

“You’re so cute”, you snicker, giving him the biggest heart eyes.

He huffs out air and turns his back to you to waddle to your sextoy dresser instead. He takes out his strap of choice and waddles back to bed. You watch him with a fond grin on your face, stifling a giggle because his walk is rather hilarious.

“Don’t look at me. I hate walking with a boner”, he whines, making you laugh.

“I think you look cute”, you say, “you’re swaying so much, my love. Are you really drunk?”

He falls atop your lap, rubbing himself against you. He nods his head, humming deeply.

“I’m drunk too”, you say.

“I wanna fuck”, he whines, “please put it on. Why are you taking so long?”

“Oh excuse me that I can’t really move when you’re plopping yourself down on me”, you laugh, pinching his sides.

Yoongi giggles, writhing away, “don’t tickle me”, he whines, rolling off of you. You chase him instantly, gripping his waist just to tickle him more. He laughs squeakily, pushing at your chest, “please stop. I hate it.”

“Sorry, sorry”, you snicker, caressing his waist instead, “I couldn’t resist. I love it so much when you laugh.”

“Put it on please”, he begs with burning cheeks. Truly, he is adorable. You realised by now that Yoongi gets those really pink cheeks when he's drunk. Paired with his naturally shy blush and he looks beyond adorable. 

“I am, I am”, you say, slipping on the harness. You make sure that everything sits in place, sighing happily because it grinds against your clit all nicely. You are going to love using it, that much is for sure. You climb back on bed, “done, you- eeek”, you squeak in surprise as Yoongi grips you by your shoulders and throws you into the sheets. 

He climbs on top of you, intertwining his fingers with you and pinning your hands above your head. Like this, his long hair is hanging into his face, framing his glowing features. 

“Wanna ride you”, he confesses, grinding against your tummy. 

“Hot”, you whisper, gawking at him with a dizzy head.

“So stay please”, he begs, widening his eyes.

“Okay. I’ll stay”, you whisper, having to smile, “you're so perfect, my prince.”

“You too”, he says, stealing one kiss from you and then he shimmies down your body, sitting down on your lap. He reaches for the lube bottle and opens it with one hand as the other is busy feeling up your strap.

He spills the lube all over it, lips curling into a dirty smirk as he begins jerking it off while his other hand grips your waist, thumb tracing your tummy.

“You're so fucking hard”, he rasps, leaning over you so his hair was hanging all into his face again. He places his hand right next to your head, lowering his eyes playfully, “you're so fucking into me, aren’t you?”

“Uuuh…yeah?” you let out a breathy laugh, “what the hell is happening? Where's my shy Yoongi Boongie gone?”

“He left”, Yoongi says and laughs, kissing you midsmile which results in him biting your lower lip and tugging on it until you moan, “wanna eat you up. Fuck, I can’t wait to get your strap.”

“You're so hot”, you squeak out, head feeling dizzy in disbelief.  

“I know”, Yoongi says nonchalantly and straightens up, placing his hand on your tummy for support. He lifts himself, shimmying up your body until your strap was aligned with his hole. He grinds on your tip back and forth, half-lidded eyes glued to your face. “Wanna take you so bad, princess.” 

“Then do it”, you rasp, gripping his hips and giving them a little push down.

Yoongi lets you, widening his stance so he could take you easier. The bulbous head breaches him after a second of struggle, forcing an audible gasp out of him.

“Now I’m in. There we go”, you say, caressing his tensing thighs, “how's that, love?” 

Yoongi sinks down further, placing both his hands on your tummy. Like this, his fingers are tickling your sides nicely. He huffs out air loudly, scrunching his nose up.

“How's that, mhm?” 

“Good”, he croaks and bottoms out, arching his back just so his ass sticks out. His lips curl into a dirty smirk, eyes falling closed, “fuck yeah”, he rasps, chasing your girth with smooth rolls back and forth, “ah fuck. Yes, princess. Fuck princess…”

“You're so hot, I can’t believe that you’re real”, you get out, feeling dizzy. He is rubbing the strap against your clit each time he moves his hips. You are not missing out on any of the sensations, that much is sure. 

“Fuck. That feels so good”, he moans, straightening up and tensing his tummy. He begins moving up and down on your cock, not wasting any second with going slow. He is drunk, dumb and horny. And free. He feels so fucking free right now. No self doubt, insecurities and mean voices in his head telling him that he is ugly. Just silence, pleasure and loud voices telling him how much of a sexy motherfucker he is riding your cock. And he wants it. Wants the rush of confidence it gives him, chasing you with fast movements.

“You're so hot, holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you pant, gawking at him with a racing heart. 

Your words only encourage him to keep bouncing on you. He doesn’t care about how loud he sounds doing it, he doesn’t care about what faces he is making or how his cock moves. He'd ruin the moment on other nights, questioning every single thing, but not tonight. Tonight he is free and desperate for more. More. More. More. Give him more. Make him fall freely. More.

“Keep going, holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you praise, slapping his bouncing cock. 

“A-ah”, Yoongi’s hips falter. He looks at you with ruby eyes. Your gazes meet, electric sparks course through your veins at the connection. “again”, he orders, fucking his hips into your palm.

“You drive me insane", you rasp, spanking his pretty cock. 

“Yes”, Yoongi throws his head back, bouncing on your strap within seconds. Hard and fast and with the intent to not stop any time soon. That’s what he needs. Pain and pleasure. It’s the same thing to him and drives him absolutely insane.

Moaning his name, you spank his cock a third time, watching in delight as this makes it leak. You wrap your fingers around him, spreading the hot slick all over his length. 

“Please continue, feels so fucking good”, Yoongi begs, dropping his head back in synch with his hands slamming down on your thighs. Like this, he is grinding on your strap more than he bounces, but the desperate freedom in his movements remains. He is making sure that his hole will remember tonight. That much is sure.

Wet squelching joins the slapping of skin and Yoongi’s unapologetic moaning, mixing with your mewls and the sound of you jerking him off. 

“Leaky boy, you’re so wet for me”, you taunt, holding his cock just so you can spank the tip with your other hand.

Yoongi trembles, squeezing your thighs. He whimpers, chasing the pain with desperate hips. 

“There we go, keep leaking for me. Love that so much”, you praise, rewarding him with a merciless slap to his cockhead followed by you jerking him off with two hands. 

“I’m cumming”, Yoongi gasps, “I'm cumming, I’m cu- ah!” he yelps, releasing all over your torso as he thrusts into your fists. It lands on parts of your face as well, feeling hot on your skin.

“Yes Yoongi, yes”, you growl, forcing him to shake uncontrollably by jerking him off quickly, “cum for me. You perfect slut, cum for me. That’s it, shake for me. Love it when you do.” 

Yoongi writhes, slamming his hands into the pillow on each side of your head.

“Fuck”, he hisses, following it up with a throaty mewl and his lips curling back to reveal his exposed fangs. He chases you. Harsh and fast. His hole is so tight, his cock so sensitive and yet he can’t stop. He can barely even think. All he runs on, is pleasure. It feels so good. He never felt like this before. Is this what he could have if only his own head wasn’t holding him back so much? Is this how sex could feel like? 

Yoongi slams his hips down on you over and over again, drooling from his parted lips because that’s what he does when he feels too good. It normally only happens when he eats your pussy, but tonight you’ve fucked him into complete dumb pleasure.

You don’t mind that he is dripping onto your face, gazing up at him with droopy, foggy eyes. You have never seen him like that. So utterly lost to the pleasure. He has no idea how much this fuels you, how you are shaking in bliss because it feels like a dream come true to have him act so freely. 

Your right hand moves around his cock, while your left runs up to his chest. You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your fingers afterwards. 

“___”, Yoongi moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “___, I’m yours”, he pants, throbbing in your hand.

“Yeah you are. Fuck, you’re mine. Fuck, Yoongi I can’t stop cumming you’re so hot”, you growl, shaking again because his words just felt too good to hear. 

“___, I’m cumming too”, he croaks, scrunching his nose up, “you're milking me”, he adds and groans, climaxing all over your tits and neck.

“I’m milking you?” you gasp, laughing breathily, “oh my fucking god, keep talking like that and I’ll break you.”

“___”, he moans, fucking his pulsating hole through the tightness. His prostate feels on fire and yet he can’t stop. This feels so good. You feel so good. 

Yoongi straightens up and grips your thighs again, showing you his fangs as he throws his head back with an agape mouth.

“___ I’m yours!” he moans loudly, arching his back. His cock is leaking like crazy. His white milky pleasure is running down your tummy by now, soaking the sheets. And yet he can’t stop, leaking continuously as he fucks himself stupid on your strap.

“Holy fuck”, you choke out, “holy fuck, you’re so hot”, you whimper, spilling tears, “Yoongi, my Yoongi, you’re my Yoongi”, you sob, gripping his cock. 

“I'm yours”, he moans deliciously, “spank me, please.”

You grant him his wish instantly, spanking his throbbing cock. 

“Again”, Yoongi demands, chasing your hand. 

Slap! 

“Again”, he growls, clenching around your strap. He can’t get enough of being fucked and spanked and milked. He wants it so bad. Needs it like air.

Slap! 

“Yes! Again.”

“Yoongi, you’re leaking like crazy”, you rasp, voice trembling in pleasure. You spank his cockhead, rubbing your palm against it afterwards. 

“Yes, again please again”, he begs, convulsing on you with trembling thighs. 

Slap!

“Holy fuck, you’re making me cum”, Yoongi laughs darkly, ending it with an audible gasp and an aggressive, “fuck.”

He arches his back, shifting your strap deeper into him. He hasn't noticed it yet, but like this you can see your cock inside of him. It is bulging his tummy, moving each time he bounces on you. 

“Yoongi”, you moan, “Yoongi, why are you so hot?” you keen, spanking his cock with all the love you have for him. You can’t believe that he is real. And that the universe aligned your paths, “I'm so lucky. So fucking lucky”, you say, digging your thumb into his belly bulge in synch with your hand connecting with his cock in a slap. 

“Woah”, Yoongi gasps, holding your wrist, “woah, woah, woah.”

“Feel that? That’s my cock moving inside you”, you taunt, grinding against his bulge.

“Holy shit”, Yoongi croaks, squeezing his thighs around your hips.

“Yeah that’s it. Feel it. That's how deep I go”, you growl, slamming your hips into him as best as the position allows you to. 

“You're making me…cum. ___, I can’t stop”, Yoongi chokes out, shaking in anticipation.

“You're so hot, holy shit", you spit, fucking him angrily. You need him cumming again, need him to continue making a mess on you.

“Yes, yes, yes”, Yoongi chants, chasing you, “now. Now. Ah, now- ah!”

You can feel his high hitting him. You can’t believe it’s real, but you do. His tummy tenses and begins convulsing, taking your cock with hungry ease.

“Fuck, I can feel you cumming”, you growl, digging your thumb deeper into his belly, “you’re so hot.”

“A-ah”, Yoongi lets out and flinches, “no. No. Nonono why?” he sobs and comes to a stop abruptly, forcing you to lift your eyes. He is gawking at you, lips pouted and eyes sad. His hands are on your stomach, fumbling nervously. 

“What's wrong?” you ask him, “don’t wanna make yourself cum anymore, mhm?”

Yoongi blinks rapidly, parting his lips.

“What's wrong?”

“I healed”, he confesses. 

You furrow your brows in confusion.

“I'm sober.”

“Ah”, you understand immediately. His powers healed him. The sobering up process, which takes normal humans many many hours, is sped up for Yoongi. Which means he is clear in the head again and self-conscious. And being on top of your lap with your strap inside of him after he fucked himself senseless is not his preferred comfort place to be. 

You sit up, forcing him to tilt his head back in order not to headbutt you. Your lips are almost touching, your bodies are grinding against each other, smearing his cum everywhere.

“So? Means I gotta fuck you dumb again”, you rasp, eyes pinning him down, “I wanna fucking ruin you.”

He widens his eyes. You grab his hips and force them to move. Back and forth in smooth rolls, forcing your strap to grind against his sensitive insides. 

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, falling around you in a tight hug. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, his chest is melted with yours and his hard cock is rubbing between your stomachs. 

“Oh god”, he gets out, shuddering desperately.

“That's it, my prince, hold me close”, you whisper and wrap your arms around him, hugging him close, “don’t stop now, you fucking love it so much. Hold me baby, hold me.”

Yoongi thanks you with little moans and stuttering hips, fingers twisting in your hair and parted lips moving against your neck.

He is naked with you. Naked, hot and bursting in pleasure. And now you are hugging. Yoongi is actually able to feel your naked skin against his own as you make him drown in pleasure. He is in paradise. He gets to hug you naked. You are hugging. And he is sober for it. Which means, he'll actually remember it tomorrow.  

“Please don’t stop”, he begs, chasing you with growing desperation. He can’t help himself. It feels so good to have you inside him. 

“I won’t, my love”, you promise him, bending your legs so he can sit even more comfortably. 

Yoongi arches his back, moaning each time his little bubble butt connects with your lap. The position forces your strap to go so deep. Yoongi feels fulfilled in ways that still feel like a dream to him. 

“Such a good boy, you’re doing so well”, you praise him, caressing his hips. He tingles because of it, chasing you with even more eagerness. He has more leverage like that. When he was riding you, he didn’t really have a lot of support and Yoongi fucking loved it, but this right here is on a whole other level. To be able to lean against you, to rest against your body and find support in your hug gives him so much comfort. Comfort, but also the opportunity to move on your strap like he needs to. Fast and desperate. Yoongi bends his legs, hooking them behind you and begins moving like he needs to.

“Please don’t stop”, he begs you, drooling all over your shoulder, “oh god, it feels so good.”

“Yeah it does. You fuck me so good, love. So fucking amazing”, you rasp, rubbing his round buttocks in an encouraging manner.

Yoongi hates being a vampire. There is no denying that. He hates it so much, except for when he has sex with you and his powers make him feel everything a million times more intensely. That’s when he fucking loves his nature. That and when his instincts kick in and force him to act against his will in the best way possible. Like rut against you as if he was an animal in heat for example. Or drool all over you because his head tells him that it was feeding time, but he forces his body to feed on something other than blood. Your warmth and the pleasure only you can give him. It tastes so much better than any amount of blood could ever taste.

Yoongi fucks fast and hard once his instincts kick in. The gluttonous, insatiable hunger for whatever addictive substance his body got a taste from takes control of him and makes him its puppet. And that substance was your strap tonight. Your strap and the deafening amount of pleasure you make him feel with it. 

Yoongi may be sober again, but mentally he is completely and utterly busted. Intoxicated on the instinctive urge to fuck and rut and ruin his little hole. Your loving hug and comforting warmth encourage him to go even harder. 

“I can’t stop”, he croaks, trembling harshly, “I can’- ah, stop.”

“That's so fucking hot. You’re so hot, my love”, you moan, feeling lightheaded. He is moving the strap over your clit as he bounces on your length. Mixing that with the sound of his needy fuck and you are this close to giving up, “you feel so good, Yoongi. So good.”

“You. Too. Ah”, he gets out, breaking his lips away from your neck to instead cup your cheek and pull you into a messy tongue kiss. 

You kiss him back gladly, loving every fucking second of it even it is oh so sloppy. Saliva gets mixed, loud moans exchanged and tongues shoved down throats. Truly, this is the kiss between two people utterly lost in the pleasure they give each other. It is nasty and it is fucking glorious. Breaks for air are scattered throughout the kiss, Yoongi uses the opportunities to curse and moan your name. You use the opportunities to praise him and call him handsome.

“Oh god, fuck”, Yoongi croaks, moaning weakly when you run your fingers under his lips.

“You’re drooling so much”, you rasp, forcing him to drool even more.

“Feels so good”, he whimpers, resting his forehead against yours. He knows that he is drooling. His entire chin is covered in it. It’s so embarrassing to him, but you fuck him so hard that he doesn’t even mind right now. Even in his sober state, he doesn’t care. You have him dumb and stupid on your strap, chasing his high because that’s all he wants.

“Spank me”, he begs, “please ___,  please.”

“Spank you”, you repeat, “fuck Yoongi, you drive me insane”, you moan, connecting your hand with his bubble butt.

“Aa-ah”, Yoongi lets out, convulsing on top of you. 

“Like this? Mhm? Is that what you want?” you taunt, landing another spank.

“Yes”, he mewls, “oh ___”, he sobs, falling around your neck. He hides his face in your shoulder, fighting for air as his body moves all on its own. It is sloppy and uncoordinated, but makes him feel so good.

“Good boy”, you praise, spanking him harshly, “you’re my good boy. Such a good boy.”

It burns so much. Yoongi sobs and forces his lips to lift from your shoulder. He guides his trembling hand to his own mouth and bites down hard. If he hadn’t, he would have ended up biting you instead and that would have made him hate himself forever. So he bites his own hand, moans muffled and body trembling like crazy.

You haven’t noticed it yet, enjoying the tighter hug he gives you and spanking his pretty butt.

“Eeh”, Yoongi squeaks, jerking into you, “hgngeng”, he lets out, coming undone from the pain and pleasure. One last time, but this time feels so good that Yoongi starts squirting all over your bodies, clawing at you because quite frankly he is a little scared of what happens to him.

You join him in his wet bliss with a pounding head, holding him so close that you could honestly merge with him.

“Holy fuck that feels so good”, you whimper, moving your hips into him needily.

Just five more strokes and then Yoongi begins flinching in discomfort, tapping your back in panic. He releases his hand, gasping loudly.

“No more”, he begs, “I can’t anymore.”

“Mhm love”, you purr, slowing down your movements until you come to a stop.

Yoongi grows heavy on your lap, flinching and twitching as he recovers. You are both so fucking sweaty, but still hold each other tighter. It’s all you need right now. To hug as you recover. No words need to be spoken – quite frankly neither of you could – and no touches need to be exchanged. Just a hug. One honest, loving hug which says everything the two of you can’t say right now.

You feel sobered up as well. Not a lot, because you are still really dizzy, but the needy fucking definitely helped your mind clear up a little. You still feel ruined though, but that’s only because Yoongi always does that to you. You finally find strength in your arm, running your hand up and down his lower back. Just a little, on the area of where his tailbone and his buttocks meet. His skin is covered in goosebumps instantly.

“Nobody gets me like you do”, Yoongi whispers, voice completely ruined.

“I feel the same, my love”, you breathe, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

“Did I actually do that?”

“You did”, you smile, caressing his hip, “you were amazing.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Hush, don’t start like this. You feel good right now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, so good.”

“Then don’t ruin it with stupid questions. You know that your brain’s mean. Don’t start believing it.”

“I know, sorry”, he whispers.

“It’s okay. You’re my most loved. You know that, don’t you?”

“I am?”

“You are, my love.”

“I love you too”, Yoongi breathes, hugging you tightly, “so fucking much.”

You giggle, squeezing him right back.

“Oh Yoongi Boongie, you are so sweet.”

He purrs, snuggling into you. He sighs, growing heavier on your lap.

“I’m done for”, he whispers.

“Yeah same. I have no idea how often I just orgasmed”, you say, making him chuckle.

“Same”, he says, wiggling his hips, “we’re so dirty.”

“Yeah I know”, you snicker, making him snicker as well.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

“Of course not”, you assure him, “why? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. No, I was just asking because I lost control.”

“You did?” you gasp.

“Yeah”, he says and huffs out air, “felt so good, it’s not my fault”, he whispers in a little whine.

“So that’s how you lose control? Oh my fucking god Yoongi, you are so hot. What the hell?” you gasp, forcing him to lift his head just so you can smooch his lips.

He managed to lick them clean so you would have no idea that he bit himself, except for one little stain of blood on his chin. You wipe it away, furrowing your brows.

“Did you bite yourself?” you ask him.

“No?” he lowers his eyes, “shut up, you’re so mean. It’s your fault”, he whines with a pout.

“Wow okay, I see how it is”, you laugh, “fine, I’m taking all the blame, but I’m not regretting it. You were so hot”, you say, pecking his lips.

Yoongi grumbles, but smiles shyly, leaning into your touch with closed eyes. He looks utterly content with the situation.

“My pretty prince”, you whisper, grinning goofily, “I wanna eat you up.”

“Mhm”, he hums, wiggling his toes when you bite his cheek gently.

“So sweet”, you say, snickering, “also sweaty as fuck”, you say, smacking your lips.

“Ew, you’re so weird”, he whines, pushing at your chest gently, “why would you say that?”

“Why? It’s the truth”, you tease, laughing when he pulls a funny face because of it.

“I’m insecure, don’t say that”, he whispers, pouting cutely.

“Gosh, I’m sorry”, you caress his cheek, “I was only teasing, I don’t mind when you’re sweaty. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah”, he mumbles.

“Mhm good”, you peck his cheek, “still wanna take a shower together? I feel really sticky.”

“Give me two minutes. My legs are dead”, he says, sighing loudly, “seriously, they’re dead.”

“You’re so cute. Of course, take as much time as you need”, you say, “I think you just like sitting on my strap and you’re pretending that your legs are weak.”

Yoongi stays silent but huffs out air, making you snicker and pat his butt.

“Be quiet”, he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I am, I am”, you say, chuckling fondly.

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #sub!yoongi #vampire!yoongi #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x you #bts x reader #sub!bts #vampire!bts #bangtan smut #bangtan oneshot #bangtan scenario #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader #vampire!bangtan #sub!bangtan #fanfic: sanguis duology

[rwrbficrecs]

Hope you all enjoy our recs for November ❤️ (even though they're a little late!!) Incenatus by @missgeevious (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: I can't recommend this fic enough! If you love Twilight and The Phantom of the Opera, this fic is for you! A mysterious masquerade, a soulmate connection, and chemistry that's off the charts all culminate to make this one of my new all-time favorite fics!

Meaning Something by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: Really enjoyed this Liam POV that goes deeper into what actually happened with Alex and Liam, his relationship with Spencer, and how Liam reacts to Alex & Henry during the book. The feelings & coming out are really well done.

Needy & Greedy by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: It's been HELL of a month in good and bad ways so I didn't have time to read much. I'm choosing to recommend a series of unconnected one shots, all steamy and delicious and fun and short for casual reading when you don't have much time to commit to a 70k fic. If you like smut tis for you!

Taste the Way You Bleed by @cha-melodious (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a super fun What We Do In the Shadows AU, written for the RWRB halloween fest. Alex and Henry are oblivious vampires, pining for centuries, and the rest of the super-six turn up in hilarious mockumentary-style interviews. The summary alone had me HOOKED.

Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: one of my go-to for comfort, all time fave fics. Alex and Henry as co summer camp counsellors, pining and bickering for years. The tension is top notch!

@dot524: It’s funny and I really enjoyed the camp setting and their journey from enemies to friends to lovers. This is a fun and cute fic.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@rmd-writes: an AU of The West Wing ep 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen' - mind the tags, this is an angsty but beautifully written fic with very clever use of multiple POVs to tell several stories of love (including platonic love). This is so good I was mad I didn't write several lines in it myself.

@thesleepyskipper: Truly an incredible and unique work that was done with care. The way the various memories/flashbacks are done and how they are used as part of the storytelling absolutely blew me away. Loved that we got multiple POVs here too!

Underground by @zwiazdziarka (book-verse)

@suseagull04: An adorable kid, fantasy (including mentions of fantasy classics!) and a rescue mission make this such a fun read! The world building in this fic is phenomenal too.

A Long Way From the Playground by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a getting-back-together AU where Alex & Henry were childhood friends who grew apart in college and then unexpectedly are neighbors. I enjoyed the slow burn here and the payoff — it’s just a comforting feel-good fic!

Five-Drink Henry by @whimsymanaged (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: I was honestly already hooked from the title and the fic did not disappoint – so much so that I’ve reread it so many times the past month. Loved everything about this fic!!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This was everything I didn’t know I needed from a spiderman AU! Loved it so much. There’s also 2 new recent fics published in this series – plenty of spiderman Alex to read!!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: A really fun fic about Henry’s first American Thanksgiving not quite going to plan. I was already laughing from the summary alone

The great turkey calamity? by @smblmn (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic tells us what is actually means to talk turkey and this once Cornbread is a star he deserves to be. It's crack, it's exsistential crisis, it's hilarious. Oh, and Alex and Henry fall in love here too.

Lay You Down by ronans (book-verse)

@inexplicablymine: when I tell you the fluff is fluffing, Henry runs a sleep YouTube and Alex is in his comment section and in his DM’s and in his head. Do yourself a favor if you need a sweet treat today and read this work

@thesleepyskipper: OMG this could not be any cuter. I loved the way we got to see their relationship grow as they got to know each other online. Truly an adorable, well-written story that will plaster a smile on your face throughout.

Risk is Just a Board Game by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Angst, domestic fluff, college AU, the holidays- this fic has it all! A look at why friends with benefits isn't always the best idea that culminates in an ending reminiscent of a Hallmark movie.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse (movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: contrary to popular fanon, Henry can dance and here he uses that to get what he wants on New Year's Eve party. No notes, just go and read it.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

[astronomical-bagel]

i think in a mlp au Grian's cutiemark would look like a stick of dynamite paired with some wings or smth and when he dresses as Ariana Griande she would put a sticker/makeup or smth to make it look like a microphone with wings (to hide her identity) and when anyone points out to Grian like 'hey look at Griande's cutiemark doesn't it kinda look like yours ahaha' he would kinda roll his eyes and go "suureee. because i masquerade as a pop star in my spare time. yup , that sounds like me." completely deadpan and absolutely no one would be suspicious of him /gen. its literally a foolproof plan.

#grian #ariana griande #yeah i was on ponytown earlier thats why im thinking of this #hermitcraft #astronomically random

[ladykailitha]

Just a little continuation of this AU idea. I'll be using their show names for ease of understanding but in the story they would be called what I called them in the previous post.

It all cumulates toward a masquerade ball where everyone is dressed as mythical creatures.

Newly crowned King Steven dresses as the Stratford Lyon. A beast that is that of a red lion with large antlers and tusks, but known for its impressive and wild mane (you know Steve would latch on that like lightning). He dressed all in red with his hair flowing to his shoulders, his mask is red, too. It's a full face mask that is a lion face with tusks and the antlers coming off the top of the mask gracefully blending into his hair.

Eddie is beguiling dressed as Mephistopheles. He's dressed all in black. His mask dark rust red covering his upper lip and horns curling from the top of his mask, like Steve's antlers but his are rams' horns.

Robin is dressed as a Nachtkrapp. She was born in Germany and married off to a French Marquis (multilingual like whoa) so she grew up hearing about the night raven. She wanted to go scary and masculine. She succeeds. :D

Chrissy is an angel, to play up on the queen thinking Steve should pick her and Steve wanting to pick Eddie. Her mask is silver, only covering her eyes. She wears a circlet on her piled up hair making it look like a halo. She wears pure white dress. And she is the only one at the ball who knows that Mephisto is Eddie.

Steve's other candidates for marriage are dressed as Titania, a mermaid, and a Valkyrie, Nancy, Vickie, and Tammy respectively.

The Party is all dressed as mythical creatures. Dustin is a griffin, Will is a unicorn, and Mike is dragon. And is completely pissed when Lucas shows up a wyvern. Lucas points out his wings are his forearms which completely different from the four legged, back-winged dragon Mike is. Dustin wanted to be a griffin because it was like Steve's Stratford Lyon without completely giving it away who is under the mask.

The queen is royally pissed when Jonathan turns up as Oberon signalling that Nancy and he are an item, completely removing her from candidacy.

Eddie dressed up in secret for the ball because as he was stripped of his titles he wasn't allowed to go. But an advisor of Steve's and long time friend of the Munsons, lets Eddie go in his place. Chrissy helps him get clothes and things and stores them in her room. Which he sneaks into after the ball has started and changes.

Hopper helps him sneak around front to go through the front gates as though he's arriving.

Steve is drawn to Eddie, even though he doesn't know it's him. The queen is chewing glass. This was NOT how it was supposed to go.

Eddie tries to sneak back to Chrissy's before the unmasking at midnight, but Steve chases him. He finds out the man he was so attracted to is also the one that makes him laugh, makes him think, makes him a better person.

And they kiss about it.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #medieval au #masquerade ball

[apphiarothowrites]

Au where black beard gets his fruit sooner and steals away whitebeards first commander

Bb makes a trade with the worst warlord doflamingo information and alliances for the famous phoenix

Corazon tries to warn law away from the guilded cage that doflamingo keeps. Tries to tell him the man inside is too broken.

“He talks all the time.” Law rolls his eyes, with a proper amount of exasperation of a 10 year old can produce. “You just suck at listening.”

For the second time law shocks both Corazon the brother and rocinate the marine into silence. It’s stupid, it is and reckless and every other thing he shouldn’t be doing because he’s already pushing it with law half the time. But Corazon sits in front of the cage during his watch. The man inside is haggard, blood matting shaggy hair and cuts that ooze. One piercing blue eye stares back out from the damage.

“Are, you.. ok?”

A beat, then raspy laughter breaks out quickly dissolving into a wet cough. “A marine masquerading as a pirate asks if I’m ok.” The man tilts his head, as words pour out in choppy gasps. “Sounds like the start of a bad joke.”

- Corazon now has to steal law and marco away from doflamingo.

-Marco does help slow the spread of amber lead

- marco is mostly sane still but he’s also very very traumatized: bb kinda tortured him into breaking so that’s a thing. He was kept drugged and chained for a long time

- white beard is still looking for marco

- doflamingo goes celestial with marco quite a bit (my property and all)

Uhh yeah, what can I say. I was listening to loser baby again and this is now my new favourite thing.

hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah once again you have the best shit in stock racccoon

When the day comes that Cora-san is taking Law, he knows he has to take Marco with them. With Law passed out and half-delirious with fever in the little single-mast dingy he's 'acquired' (a bad day for the kid), he uses his fruit to it's fullest extent.

The man is awake-eyes barely open with crusted old blood staining his eyelashes-when he silently slips past the usual guard. The key in the lock, normally a loud clanking thing, is utterly soundless. The creaking, groaning resistance of the rusty hinges of the cage have only specks of falling dirt to signal their protest. Marco lifts his head just barely, eyes pulling as wide as they can. A cut under his jaw drips red.

Cora-san pulls on a pair of gloves he stole and sets about removing the seastone thorns and chains in total absence of sound. By the end he's sweating with the effort-each thorn and nail pulling a harsh jerking movement from the man that makes no noise. Marco's wounds steadily worsened and blood flows freely to the floor of the cage.

But the moment the last cuff slides off, Marco throws himself backwards. Blue and gold heat rushes to fill the space and Rocinante staggers to the other side of the small cage to watch in silent awe.

The Phoenix is beautiful, and angry. It's eyes scream murder and it's beak opens when the flames properly clear, but just as the half-hour preceding didn't, no sound comes. Rocinante knows they're running out of time for this to work, so he offers a hand to the man-turned-creature and, finally, lets his voice be known.

"We need to go. I have a way off this island."

The Phoenix's eyes narrow to dangerous slits, but it's wings draw in and the fire sheds off it's body like feathers. The man, Marco, stands in it's place utterly pristine. An enviable power, Rocinante thinks only to himself as they sneak away.

An enviable power indeed, he thinks again as Marco-without a word or even the suggestion of help-puts his healing hands on Law and the flush of the boy's fever fades within minutes.

The thought changes, envy caving under something else, as days turn to weeks seeking answers for Law's condition. Marco disappears on the second island they visit and for an hour or so Rocinante thinks that he's taken off, returned to his father's fleet that he speaks of only fondly with a tired smile. Instead he returns just as Rocinante and Law do to their transport, his shoulders pulled back confidently.

He says nothing of his disappearance.

Then, the night that he finds the fruit, Law's fruit, something changes. He falls, bleeding out, against the most valuable treasure chest in the world believing Law is safe knowing Marco is waiting for the kid just offshore in a raft. He passes out knowing he won't wake up.

He wakes up.

Curled up against his side near his hip is Law, patches of white skin already gaining color. Standing at the end of the bed is a nurse in the most unprofessionally tight set of scrubs he's ever seen. Sitting in a chair to the side of the bed, behind Law's tiny back, is Marco with his head tilted back and eyes closed, snoring lightly.

#AR answers #raccooon once again on that good shit #marcora #finally figured out a ship portmanteau for them!!!

[tj-dragonblade]

*knock knock knock* ❄️☃️🎄 Asking for 24 for the Spotify Wrapped!!!

24 - Dance With the Dragon by Dark Sarah

Congratulations, you've landed on one of the songs that's officially on my list of Songs That Would Make Great Dreamling Fics (That I'll Never Write)! Based entirely on the video linked above and the story that it's part of, this would be a fantasy AU where the vibes are 'Labyrinth meets Alice in Wonderland' with hints of Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, and Hades and Persephone sprinkled over for flavor.

The basic idea is that Hob is trapped in some alternate reality and trying to collect a key from each realm he passes through to be able to get back to his own reality. No idea at this juncture what the first realm/key would be - maybe something with the fae, maybe hell, idk. The second realm is Dream's. Do I want to keep to the source and make him a dragon who lost his wings for hubris and arrogance and got banished from the 'upper world' to rule this dark 'underworld'? Maybe, but that's also very Lucifer-ish. So maybe I'd blend in something closer to his canon. In any case. Hob tries to sneak into Dream's castle, get the key, sneak out. He does not succeed and is taken before Dream. There is antagonistic chemistry. There is sneering haughty-in-my-superiority taunting and 'let's be reasonable' demands. There is at least one challenge set, there is Hob as a 'guest' of Dream's until he completes the challenge ('So I'm a prisoner, then.' 'Oh no, you may leave any time you like, but you will gain no key until you complete my challenge.' 'But what good is leaving without the key, when I'll just be stuck here forever??' 'I fail to see how that is my problem'), there is continued verbal fencing and sparring and building UST as Hob struggles with the challenge, there is an elaborate ball (masquerade?) held, there is a waltz charged with so much tension and raging attraction it's a wonder the room doesn't spontaneously combust. There is at least one moment of 'Oh no under different circumstances this could be More™️' and genuine understanding/connection between them. In the end, Hob finally succeeds at the challenge, earns the key and departs on a note of uneasy flirtation - Dream bowing and kissing his hand in farewell as he acknowledges his defeat, lingering intense smirky eye-contact as Hob goes, that kind of thing.

Potentially this can go on, if I continue the thread of the source storyline but lean on Dream's canon for details. Perhaps collecting the three keys would give him the means to restore Orpheus/free Orpheus/something to do with Orpheus, and he's never had the means to collect the other two keys on his own, but now that Hob has collected the first and second, if Dream accompanies him while he collects the third, they can both use the keys to achieve their ends - Hob to go back to his own world and Dream to restore Orpheus. So Dream leaves Lucienne in charge of the realm and follows after Hob, catches up to him, proposes they cooperate etc; they quest for the third key and finally resolve that UST in the process. When they get the third key, and present it to let's say the Fates, they're told they cannot both claim reward - and they put the choice to Dream, his lover or his son. Let Hob go back to his world/his regular life, or be 'selfish' and choose to cash in for his own goal instead. It could end here with Dream choosing to let Hob go, which could be passing a test by the Fates and as reward for passing he still gets to save/restore Orpheus. Or, the longer and angstier version, he chooses Orpheus and thereby casts Hob into yet another alternate realm, and the next leg of the story is Dream's quest to find Hob again and seek his forgiveness, and find a way to get him home. Hob can't exactly fault Dream for choosing his son over this outsider human that he's started sleeping with, but it still hurts, still feels on some level like betrayal, and while he might like to freely offer forgiveness it's more plausible that there will have to be some earning done. Eventually of course they reconcile and find a way to get Hob home and then of course establish a means by which they can continue to cross worlds to see each other.

Anyway this is far more a mental exercise in mapping one story to another and seeing where they might translate than it is a viable fic idea; it's far too grand in scope and not nearly detailed enough for me to realistically take it on. Mostly I just want the enemies-to-lovers fraught-with-tension ballroom dancing scene.

Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post

#Thank you! #Askmemes #TJs Writing #SpotifyWrapped asks #Dreamling #Sandman

[calmlyerratic]

Encounters of the Future Sort

Chapter 6: The Toad's Lair

by @calmlyerratic

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Read it here on Ao3.

Ch Summary: AU. The Marauders time travel to 1996.

“Lift up your fringe, James.” Fred implored, crossing his arms.

“What? Why?”

“Look,” George began, also crossing his arms. “Either you’re actually Harry and you’ve just gone bonkers—”

“—or you’re not Harry—”

“—and the only way to be sure—”

“—is for you to lift up your fringe.”

ch word count: 2.8k — rating: T — cw: Umbridge. Lol.

Read Chapter 1 | full Summary & Chapter Index

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Continuation of Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm, from Ginny’s perspective

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Ginny

Hospital Wing

With Hermione and James

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“I trust there is a good reason for this intrusion?” Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, glaring at Ginny and Hermione.

“Well, you see…” Ginny began, twirling a strand of fiery hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. She watched as Madam Pomfrey handed a very pale second-year Hufflepuff a glass of dark green, syrupy liquid.

Ginny opened her mouth, then hesitated.

How can I explain this properly? Yes, Madam, I believe Harry Potter has finally cracked…

To Ginny, Harry was tall, dark, and mysterious—but always very humble. Almost intimidatingly so. When he wasn’t brooding, and he usually was these days, he was so gentle and always unusually kind. He had a sharp edge sometimes, though only when it was warranted.

Harry had never been full of himself in the slightest—even when he had every right to be. That was one of the many things she always admired about him, so it was very off putting when he puffed out his chest and ran a hand through his (quite lovely) untidy hair, like he had suddenly developed an insufferable ego.

Hermione also seemed to be at a loss for words as she chewed on her bottom lip, nervously hugging her crossed arms.

Ginny glanced around to make sure no Slytherins, familiar faces, or any members of the Inquisitorial Squad were lurking about. There was a handful of younger students lying in hospital beds, two of whom had large red boils sprinkling their faces. She smirked. Apparently, Fred and George’s skiving snackboxes were becoming quite the trend.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and appeared rather irritated. Ginny decided it would be best to jump straight to the point.

“He, er,” Ginny lowered her voice, “he thinks he’s his father…”

She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who was tying his shoe.

“Hey, I don’t see Evans here,” Harry called from across the infirmary. “Tell her I’ll catch up with her later, yeah? I still need to find Sirius, Remus, and Peter.”

Ginny heard Hermione gasp as she watched Madam Pomfrey clutch her heart.

Having spent the entirety of last summer at Grimmauld Place, Ginny knew there was no one in the world Harry loved or valued protecting more than Sirius. The way he yelled Sirius’ name so casually gave her goosebumps, like he wasn’t a world-renowned escaped convict in hiding. Like he was talking about a different Sirius, from another time…

Maybe a time when Sirius and Remus had been friends with his father? He’d also mentioned Peter, who Ginny was nearly positive had been the same Peter masquerading as Scabbers for nearly twelve years. No one ever seemed keen on discussing precise details of that disturbing revelation, but she’d gathered bits and pieces of the story listening in on Order meetings over the summer and she knew the whole subject made Ron insanely uncomfortable.

“Oh-okay?” Harry said as Madam Pomfrey led him to a bed with white cotton sheets, his expression akin to that of her brother’s when their mother was overreacting.

It was awful to hope that he had been cursed, but she’d honestly prefer it to the thought of him losing his mind. Ginny watched as Madam Pomfrey examined Harry with her wand, then checked his pupils—

Weird.

Ginny stepped a foot closer, in case her eyes were deceiving her.

By the tip of Madam Pomfrey’s wand, Harry’s eyes were lit up—and they were brown. Or rather hazel, with amber tones and subtle flecks of green.

But, Harry has bright emerald green eyes…

She took a moment to digest this information, then glanced over at Hermione, who had a strand of frizzy hair falling across her anxious face. Ginny didn’t suppose she noticed his eyes—Hermione had been incredibly strung out preparing for her O.W.L’s. It had been difficult for her to string two words together unless they were about the history of Giant wars, the properties of moonstone, or the translation of rather complicated looking runes.

Harry blinked and his strange hazel eyes looked right through her. Something was very off…though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

For all of his physical appearance, he looked just like Harry: tall and thin—but muscular from years of quidditch—with his long nose and unruly raven hair. Even his voice sounded the same, it was only what he said, and how he carried himself that was so eerily uncanny.

Ginny gathered herself from fixating on Harry’s jawline and watched curiously as he answered Madam Pomfrey’s questions.

“My name—it’s James Potter.” Harry said once again, and he was so convicted, Ginny couldn’t help but consider the probability…

Madam Pomfrey, however, grew increasingly concerned. “A-and what year is it?”

“It’s April 1st, 1976.”

Ginny tuned out of the conversation. 1976…how old was Sirius again?

Madam Pomfrey left for her office and Ginny blinked, wondering how viable it was that he was telling the truth.

At that moment, Harry ruffled his lovely hair again, like it was a reflex, solidifying this nearly impossible thought. She thought of what her brothers would say.

“The thing about growing up with Fred and George, is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible…” —Ginny, OotP, chapter 29

Harry turned quite pompously to Hermione and Ginny when Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot.

“Look, I respect your dedication, but this is kind of becoming a drag.”

He jumped to his feet and waved a hand in farewell, with a disarming smile.

“Peeves is at large and I’m a deserter, so…nice to meet you both, I appreciate your time, and see you around!”

Ginny watched him leave the infirmary; mouth slightly ajar.

How could this be Harry?

“We’re supposed to write an essay on the properties of moonstone, which is the main ingredient in a love potion…” Hermione squeaked, tucking a long frizzy strand behind her ear. “I wonder if maybe someone slipped him one? Although I don’t think it’s possible to—to, you know, use it in connection with a deceased person…”

Ginny bit her lip, wondering if Hermione could handle her new theory, and feeling slightly vulnerable being the one to point it out. Everyone knew Ginny had a terrible crush on Harry when she was younger and she didn’t particularly enjoy calling attention to it.

“Hermione, did you notice his—erm…his eyes?”

Hermione blinked, staring blankly. “What about them?”

“They…weren’t green.” Ginny bit her lip again, feeling her cheeks flush.

Damn red headed complexion, she thought haughtily.

Hermione knit her brow, her eyes darting around as if searching internal files for an explanation.

"What do you mean?"

“When Madam Pomfrey was shining her light...his eyes were hazel.”

Hermione blinked again, still seated at the foot of the bed, staring at the infirmary door. She suddenly jumped to her feet.

"We should go after him.”

Ginny nodded and the two of them hurried out the grand wooden doors of the infirmary, leaving an agitated Madam Pomfrey in their wake.

“He can’t have gone far—oh!” Hermione stopped short; eyes very wide.

Ginny spotted a flash of pink a little way down the corridor, just outside the entrance to the library.

One good thing about Umbridge, Ginny mused, you could always see her coming.

“Is that—?” Hermione squinted.

“Yeah, it is.” Ginny sighed. “Bullocks.”

Harry was standing there, caught right between Umbridge and Snape. Ginny and Hermione watched for a moment, as Umbridge turned on her heel and led a reluctant Harry down the opposite end of the corridor.

Ginny adjusted her fiery ponytail, preparing for battle. “I bet she’s taking him back to her lair…”

“Her lair?” Hermione bit her lip and cracked a smile.

Ginny nodded, unable to stifle a grin herself.

“That’s what Fred and George call her office.” Ginny shrugged. “It’s quite fitting, actually.”

Hermione gazed down the corridor, contemplating. “We have to do something.”

Ginny took a sharp breath in with a bolt of inspiration. She grabbed Hermione’s elbow.

“C’mon, I have a plan…”

James

DADA Classroom, Umbridge’s Office

James walked in silence behind Umbridge, the sharp click, clack of her pink heels piercing his brain with every step along the stone floors.

He lingered as far behind her as he could, hoping to dodge down a corridor before she realized he was gone. Every time he came close to escaping, she cast a glance over her shoulder with a nasty smile.

Who the hell was this woman?

Finally, they reached a classroom on the third floor in the North Tower. It was a room unfamiliar to James, as he haughtily climbed a short staircase to her office. She opened the door and gestured him inside.

It took all of James’ remaining patience not to throw up then and there, on her knit carpet. It was like an eerie, pink paradise.

“The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.” —OotP, chapter 13

James wrinkled his nose at the dense, pungent scent of roses and potpourri. Umbridge delicately closed the door and motioned to a small table draped in lace.

“Sit, Mr. Potter.” She said sweetly, her lips curling into a sickening smile.

James supposed it was more of a command than a request. She clicked over to her desk and sat down, where he spotted a large wooden block with ‘Headmistress’ in gold writing.

“That says Headmistress…Professor Dolores Umbridge?”

The toad woman’s head snapped up, giving James the impression he’d fallen right into her trap.

“Yes?” Her cruel eyes pierced him. “Is there a problem?”

James raised an eyebrow. Despite the fact she was obviously baiting him, he was unable to resist.

“Er, yeah. There is. You aren’t Headmistress, Albus Dumbledore is—or the Headmaster, anyway.”

Umbridge became very red in the face and she jumped to her feet, which didn’t make much of a difference as she wasn’t much taller standing than sitting. James bit his bottom lip to hold back a smirk.

“Don’t-test-me-Potter,” she whispered scathingly, the sugary sweetness evaporated from her voice. “You’ve caused quite enough trouble for me to have you arrested for the remains of your school years. Albus Dumbledore can no longer protect you—just one quick call to Cornelius and you’re off to Azkaban!”

Sure, James had pulled a few pranks here and there, but nothing that serious. However, this woman was clearly unstable and vindictive, which was enough of a disturbing combination to keep James locked in place.

He watched silently as the toad smoothed her cardigan and drew a piece of parchment from a desk drawer. Her sugary smile flickered back on.

“Now, sit.”

James was not feeling eager to provoke her, particularly because he wasn't sure what he'd done to begin with. So, he sat on the edge of the straight chair in the corner, just in case it came alive to strangle him.

“Now, shall we begin?”

Umbridge set the parchment on the table in front of James and handed him a long, thin black quill with a very sharp point.

James poised the quill in his fingers. Umbridge sat behind her desk and laced her fingers together, continuing to smile psychotically at him. He waited for a few moments, trying to ignore the eerie purring and stares of a thousand cat eyes looming down upon him.

“Not to be presumptuous,” James twirled the quill between his fingers, unable to quell his defiant nature. “But may I be so bold as to assume I will be writing lines?”

Umbridge smiled, if possible, even sweeter.

What was that muggle saying Remus used? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

The toad certainly seemed quite keen on this theory as she opened her mouth, and James wondered if she’d spotted a particularly juicy fly, but before she could speak a deafening CRASH sounded above their heads.

The creepy purring went quiet as Umbridge jumped to her feet and the room shook slightly as several smaller crashes followed. She drew her wand from her frilly pink cardigan and ran towards the door. At the last second, she whipped her head around and pointed menacingly.

"We are not finished here, Mr. Potter!”

James, however, begged to differ. He stuck his tongue at her back as she jolted out of the office.

Jumping to his feet, James peered out the crack in the door until it was safe to follow. Umbridge turned right down the corridor, so he turned left, truly hoping she would meet her demise with this godsend of a distraction.

What a weird day, James thought, with absolutely no concept of just how weird it was about to become.

As he rounded a corner, James came face to face with two tall, gangly red heads that appeared identical in every way. He blinked twice with the fear he was seeing double.

“Made it out alive did you?” the grinning twin on the right asked.

James looked back and forth between the two, confused—but that did seem to be a familiar pattern today.

“That,” the twin on the left began, “was a clever little diversion we refer to as—”

“—‘tempt Peeves into pelting Mrs. Norris with dungbombs’—” the one on the right added.

“—‘and inconsequently, give Filch an aneurism.’” The one on the left finished with a wink.

“That was you?” James baffled.

The twins nodded in unison, grins mirroring one another.

“Ginny tipped us off,” the one on the right grinned. “And here we are, your knights in shining armor.”

The one on the left bowed regally. “No need to thank us—just preforming our civic duties.”

James wondered why these odd, identical people he'd never seen before were helping him with such aplomb.

“Well blimey, thanks anyway! Thought I was a goner in there, dunno who put a crack in that toad's cauldron…”

“No problem, mate. Wouldn’t want that scar to get any deeper,” the twin on the right nodded to James’ hand.

James stretched his fingers, examining his hand; quite unaware of any scar he had attained.

The twin on the left knit his brow. “Huh. Murtlap essence does work wonders…”

“Saved our hides with the fever fudge,” the twin on the right grimaced. “Cleared up those awful puss filled boils, especially good for pesky ones right in the—”

“Look, I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about,” James admitted, running the hand in question through his hair. “Actually I don’t even know who you are, to be honest. Have we met?”

The twins exchanged a cryptic glance.

“Fred—” the one on the right pointed to the one on the left.

“—and George.” The one on the left pointed to the one on the right. “Blimey, Harry—did Umbridge confound you?”

James scoffed in frustration, his ego swelling. “Why does everyone keep calling me that? My name is James. As in James Potter. Who this Harry bloke is, I’d really like to know!”

Fred and George exchanged another glance. They nodded in unison, as if they’d had a whole conversation in two seconds without actually speaking.

“Lift up your fringe, James.” Fred implored, crossing his arms.

“What?” James puzzled, wondering what difference his hairline could possibly make. “Why?”

“Look,” George began, also crossing his arms. “Either you’re actually Harry and you’ve just gone bonkers—”

“—or you’re not Harry—”

“—and the only way to be sure—”

“—is for you to lift up your fringe.” Fred resolved matter-of-factly.

James shrugged, sighing. “All right, then.”

It seemed like a ridiculous request, but James was just glad to be speaking with people who actually seemed to comprehend what he was saying.

So, he lifted his fringe.

To James’ curiosity, Fred and George leaned in and squinted their eyes while they examined his forehead.

"How intriguing..." Fred considered.

“Did you put Murtlap essence on that scar, too?” George puzzled.

“Unless, George…”

“Yes, Fred?”

“Unless he’s actually—

“—not Harry, at all?”

James nodded his head in exasperation. “I’m definitely not Harry.”

“The resemblance is uncanny, George.” Fred commented lightly.

George stroked his chin and nodded. “Indeed it is, Fred.”

The twins contemplated James for a few moments, circling around and eyeing him over from top to bottom.

Fred straightened up, turning to his twin. “Shall we?”

George nodded solemnly. “I believe so.”

The two simultaneously waved their wands and James’ arms and legs were bound by invisible ropes.

“Hey—!” James squirmed; his arms pinned to his sides.

Fred flicked his wand upwards and James’ tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

“Sorry, mate. But seeing as we don’t know who you are…”

“And also that you’re nearly indistinguishable from Harry,” George added.

“We can’t leave you gallivanting around unsupervised.”

Fred waved his wand again and James’ feet levitated slightly off the floor.

James, tongue tied and bound, thought of many foul cuss words and it was rather fortunate for the twins he was totally incapacitated.

Whoever this Harry bloke is, James thought, I’ll hex him into next Tuesday.

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Notes: Fred and George are so much fun to write heheh. Next chapter we're back to Harry, Ron, and the remaining Marauders! Young Sev and Lily are going to make an appearance here soon, too.

A gigantic hug to everyone supporting this fic! As a writer, feedback is so incredibly invaluable. It helps me process the chapter from a new perspective. Whatever strikes a chord or makes you giggle, let me know! Hearing from you totally fuels my day and inspiration. I <3 you all.

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#hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders #marauders fic #the marauders #hp fanfic #james potter #hp au #sirius black #harry potter #hp fanfcition #hp fandom #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #dolores umbridge #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #ginny weasley #harry potter au #harry potter marauders #harry x ginny #hinny #marauders fanfic #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fandom #the marauders era #marauders time travel

[boldlyanxious]

Duke and Dash

Accidental Cinderella au

Masterlist

"This is a terrible idea, Alya. We are going to be caught,” Marinette whispered urgently.

Alya turned and looked at her, reaching out she lifted Marinette so her back was straight and lifted her head from under her chin.

“No one will notice the difference. I have to be here if I am to keep up my paper. Everyone who reads me wants to know everything that is happening at the masquerade.”

“But what if we are discovered? What will happen to our parents or to Nino?” Marinette fretted. “How did you even convince him to sneak us in? He just got the job as the minstrel. Surely he will be suspected first.”

Alya’s eyes danced as she responded, “I was able to persuade him.”

“I’m sure you were. I bet there would be a scandal if anyone knew how persuasive you were.”

They silenced their voices as there was a commotion across the room. The crowd was entering and everyone was clamoring for a chance to mingle. This was their opportunity to sneak in without anyone seeing them. Moving quickly, they joined the crowd and no one even noticed them. The crowd was packed too tight for them to see much beyond those near them, but they were not particularly concerned. They were just here so Alya could continue writing about what happened at the ball. The reactions of others were far more important and they would do well to stay away from the guests who wanted attention. There would be too much scrutiny for their ruse to survive.

The conversation was exhausting, if she were honest. She would be content to sit back and admire all the clothing of the rich and powerful people here. She could embellish her dresses as much as she wanted but she could never hope to afford such luxurious fabrics. The fact that she had managed to get ahold of the fabric for this dress was a fluke. Lady Kagami was supposed to go but she was using the opportunity to sneak away. It was why she had commissioned Marinette to make the dress and she had put in a good word for Nino to join the minstrels. She wanted to become a knight but her mother was pushing for her to get married into a good family. The rumor was that the Duke would be returning to find a wife so Lady Tsurugi was determined for her daughter to meet him.

Even with the mask, Marinette felt fully exposed every time someone raised an eyebrow at her response. She didn’t know enough about what she was supposed to say to know what she was even doing wrong. All the conversation to her felt forced but it seemed to be so easy for everyone else. She felt like everyone was watching her because her bright red gown was out of place while the other ladies were all in muted colors that fit nicely with the deep colors the men wore. She stuck out by her attire and her behavior so she moved towards a hallway to escape notice. There was a garden with a paved path and flowers all around. The candles lit a pathway and she followed it, breathing in the fragrant aroma. She had always wanted to visit this garden but it was off limits to her.

She was alone for several minutes before a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned suddenly, panicking at the intrusion. She had heard no footsteps but before her was a man all in black. His mask stuck out from his face bringing his eyes into focus but surrounded by sharp points like the wings of a bat. It was so different from her soft mask that laid against her face. The red of the mask matched her dress and the black lace pattern on the edge matched the lace that formed the ladybug spots across the dress. The delicate gauzy material that formed split cape wings from her shoulders was also used to make a hair piece that formed antennae above her head. The look was finished with long black gloves that nearly touched the loose off the shoulder sleeves.

“I didn’t expect to find anyone else out here,” his voice was soft and deep.

“Oh,” she said, stepping back. She hadn’t expected him to be so tall. “I could leave. I just needed a moment alone and it was so lovely.”

“It seems that a ladybug is in the natural spot surrounded by flowers.”

“I suppose that is true, but the night gives way for the right of bats to have territory.”

“That is also true. If we both have the right then I suppose we both may stay here.”

She stepped away and sat on a nearby bench.

“I appreciate that. I enjoy the quiet here.”

It could have been awkward. Maybe even should have been but it was nice. Marinette slipped out her design book and started drawing based on what she could remember of the clothing she had seen. She rarely had the opportunity to see such fine attire. She may see regular day clothes for the nobility but tonight they were in their finery to outdo each other and it was magnificent. She continued for quite some time, forgetting that she wasn’t alone until the batman spoke again.

“You have some skill with that. You must have had a good teacher to learn drawing so well.”

He was watching her closely. She wondered how long he had been watching her. She didn’t know if he was sincere. Insincerity as a slight was second nature to many of the nobility but his eyes didn’t seem to hold contempt as she was accustomed to.

“I was not trained to draw. I just found I enjoy doing it,” she said.

He sat on the bench next to her and reached out his hand, silently requesting to see what she had drawn. She passed it over and he flipped through the pages for a few minutes before handing it back to her. She tried not to suck in her breath as their fingers brushed together.

“I was trained for many years and that is a far better skill than I ever managed.”

They went silent again for a few moments. She didn’t know if it was considered rude to remain silent. Perhaps she was expected to present a conversation topic for them but she had no thoughts on it. She enjoyed sitting in silence without having to work to think of the right thing to say. She may have outed herself by saying nothing though because after their brief pause, he cleared his throat. She looked over apprehensively, expecting him to get angry and have her dragged out of the party for masquerading as a noble.

“It grows late,” he said, “I find myself in danger of breaking a promise.”

“Please, don’t let me hold you up. I am fine here on my own.”

“I prefer being here. I also found the party a little too much for me. But I made a promise to dance tonight and there is only one young lady I wish to dance with.”

Marinette stood and faced him, leaving her small book on the bench.

“If you remember anything about her, I could try to locate her for you,” she was definitely showing her deference here at trying to meet the needs of a noble.

“I would like that very much,” he said. He stood as well. “She was the most beautiful woman at the party but I don’t think you will find her in there anymore.”

He took a step towards her, bringing an arm up to her elbow. She could feel the heat from his fingertips through her long gloves. His thumb brushed against the lace at the top.

“Everyone in the room noticed her beauty and they were buzzing with envy. Her smile was sweet and her eyes were bright blue.”

“I will look around. It is good you were able to see the eyes since everyone was in a mask. Do you remember any other details about her or her clothing?”

“Her dress,” he paused, stepping even closer. She looked up at him and he was looking down at her with something in his eyes that she couldn’t place. He leaned closer before he whispered, “it was the most lovely shade of red.”

She was dazed when he whispered near her ear. She could feel her cheeks heat up at the movement of his face near her. She had never been so close to a man she wasn’t related to. She was flooded with feelings she didn’t recognize even before she registered what he had said. Her mouth froze into an oh and her eyes were wide. She was not only wearing red, but she had been the only person in attendance wearing red. His hand slid from her elbow down to take her hand in his. He positioned his feet and placed his other hand at her waist.

She moved stiffly into the formal dancing position. She had learned as a child but it was mostly play for her. She had not had actual instruction or any expectation of learning the steps. It was just for fun as the children of the servants liked to pretend they were suddenly swept away into the court. She enjoyed dancing but she had always done far more on her own than as the partner of someone who knew the steps. She didn’t even realize she was looking down at her feet to make sure she didn’t step on his until he used his hand to tilt her head up.

“Just follow me. I’ll steer you. Close your eyes if it helps.”

She closed her eyes and she could hear the music in the distance. She leaned slightly closer and followed his movement. She was lost in the feeling. He started speaking, telling her about his childhood and his hopes for the future. She felt like she was swimming or still dancing but he had stopped and was watching her. There was nothing she could say about her childhood or her plans of the future that would not give her away. Her childhood had been vastly different and her plans for the future were more modest than anything that he would expect.

“It is customary to remove the mask at some point in the evening,” he said as he reached for his own. “I hope you will be happy with the man you find behind it.”

He removed his mask before she comprehended what was happening. His blue eyes watched hers and his black hair fell down over his forehead. She was stunned. He was possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen and she knew that for a fact because she had seen him before. Her parents worked as bakers in the kitchens here. She would often help them and she knew him as he grew up. Not personally, definitely not. The baker’s daughter was only suited to be friends with the children of the chef and the maids. She would never have played with Bruce Wayne, the son of the Duke. Not the son anymore. His parents had died when he was a child leaving him with the title. He had left not long after for schooling only to return now.

She stumbled backwards, falling over in her hurry. She didn’t look back as he called out to her. She pushed herself up off the ground and ran, holding her skirts up to help her get away. He was chasing after her but she turned off onto a darker pathway and made her way to the back entrance where her parents were probably already asleep. They would probably have expected her to sleep over with Alya, knowing that they had a tendency to stay up giggling far too late for the wake time of their parents. Some days they would both have to work early with their parents but they did allow them the occasional freedom to sleep late.

She was quiet as she carefully removed the dress. She hoped that the fall had not damaged it. It had been expensive and she expected that Lady Kagami might need it returned to her one day. She put on her nightgown and crawled onto her pallet to sleep. She didn’t sleep though. She laid awake for hours thinking. The whispers around the house were that the Duke had to return to be married. He would lose his land and titles if he didn’t settle down and marry. The expectation was that all the marriageable ladies would be in attendance at the ball and he would pick one lucky lady to be his duchess.

But he had revealed himself to Marinette and she was not a lady. She fell into a fitful sleep just as the day was dawning. It was far too soon when she woke up to voices. Not just her parents' voices. She splashed water on her face and pulled her dress over her head. She could hear footsteps coming and even if her parents allowed her the day to sleep late, it would not be acceptable for anyone else to find her this way. She slid on her shoes and tucked her hair into a scarf covering her hair. The dress she tucked into the pillow so it wouldn’t be discovered by her parents. She slid her hand into the pocket to find her notebook to discover it wasn’t there.

She suddenly realized where she had left it just as the door opened. Her mother looked around and motioned for her to follow. Her parents looked serious and she immediately realized why. Sitting at their table was the butler from upstairs, sipping tea. He watched Marinette as she walked out but he continued making casual conversation with her father. Her mother was pretending everything was fine but Marinette could tell that she was nervous. She tended to love having guests. She would bring out a tray of cakes and tea and sit but now she was moving more slowly and shaking slightly.

Marinette took the tray for her and placed it on the table.

“That won’t be necessary,” Mr Pennyworth said. He was still watching her for any reaction. “We will be leaving.”

He stood and walked to the door and the three of them stayed in their places.

“If you would all follow me,” he said.

Marinette kept her face neutral as she felt her parents turn to look at her. This wasn’t fair to them. She would have to find a way to keep them out of trouble for her mistakes. Hopefully Alya and Lady Kagami had been spared any connection to her being there and her parents could convincingly say they were completely unaware and it would sound right because it was true. It took several minutes walking through the corridors and up several flights of stairs before they arrived in the library.

There was tea laid out and Mr Pennyworth motioned for them to sit. He handed out cups of tea and offered cakes that they had prepared themselves but were far fancier than they had in their own apartment. Her father was stoic and held his mug out but her mother immediately put hers on the table, unable to hold it steady. Marinette took a hesitant sip. She had just woken up and expected she would need the tea to fortify her.

“Do you perhaps recognize this?”

Mr Pennyworth took her drawing book and put it before them on the table. Of course they recognized it. They had proudly given it to her on her last birthday. It had been a very expensive gift but they wanted to encourage her in her love of the fashions as they were able. They probably regretted it now. They certainly would not be proud when they heard about what she had done.

“That belongs to my daughter,” her father said. She knew to let him speak first or risk insulting everyone by speaking out of turn. “She takes it with her everywhere. I am certain if she lost it. it was an honest mistake.”

“Oh Papa,” she said in a small voice. “I’m so sorry.”

She paused before taking a breath and looking up.

“Please, my parents would never have allowed me to go where I wasn’t allowed. They had no idea. Don’t punish them for my transgressions.”

He walked right in front of her and her parents watched her horrified as he listed them out in front of them.

“You do admit that you snuck into the masquerade ball last night,” she nodded. “You wandered into the garden where you are not allowed to be.” She nodded again. “You danced and conversed with a gentleman knowing that he had now knowledge of your lack of rank.”

She looked at her parents' faces to see the horror and disappointment at her behavior.

“It is all true,” she said. “I did everything you said and all without my parent’s knowing. If they had known, they would have done whatever it took to stop me, including turning me in for my own protection.”

“You believe she is the same one, sir?”

The butler had turned to address the Duke as he entered the library as silently as he had the garden last night.

“I am certain it is her,” he said.

The room was still for a beat until Mr Pennyworth turned back and addressed her parents.

“I am sure you know that this is very serious,” he paused as they nodded. Marinette looked down and tried to keep the hot tears from slipping down her face. “The Duke has returned as many have likely speculated to seek a marriage. This has become complicated because after last night he says he will marry no one,” he paused dramatically and fixed his eyes on them and then pointed at Marinette, “except her.”

Her parents both tried to talk at once but Marinette couldn’t get over her shock until the Duke came over to her and knelt down.

“I know we just met, but I felt more comfortable with you in a few hours than I have with anyone in my life. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“I am not a noble, what business would I have marrying a Duke?”

“If you want to say no, say that but if you want to say yes, I swear to you I will make it happen.”

“I want to say yes,” she looked beside her at her parents and they were nodding in agreement.

“Then, we shall be married.”

He pulled her up to stand in front of him and lightly kissed her cheek. Then he pulled a ring out of his jacket.

“This was my mother’s.”

She looked down at it. There were glittering stones set in it, but all she noticed was the engraved ladybug design.

#brucinette #maribat #boldlyanxious #Cinderella brucinette #historical maribal #mgi civil war 3

[crisiscutie]

Crisis and Chill

A little scenario where our Kuudere Darling is mad at Sephiroth.

Sephiroth/Content Warning: NSFW. Mommy Kink. Body Worship. Scent Kink.

"You're late," your flat, cold voice echoed through the void realm as Sephiroth's black feathers circled around you, heralding his imminent entrance. It seems that he has finally finished exterminating the rest of those insects from earlier.

"Mother..." he said, his physical form materializing near you. The velvety tone of his voice held a touch of solemnity, like a mischievous child expecting his punishment. You couldn't express it, but you were pissed at him. The pain of being separated from him, even for a short time, was excruciating for you. And it happened because Cloud and the other puppets intercepted you two, preventing you from absorbing more energy from the world's core to become a goddess, all thanks to Sephiroth's reckless attempts to impress you. He just had to spend precious time toying with them, didn't he? And you were worried about him when he used a portal to send you away to safety. Even though he's strong, you still didn't want him to handle those insects alone.

As he strolled towards you, his traditional smirk returned and his icy blue slit eyes locked with your dull pink ones. You couldn't help but notice the subtle, seductive sway of his hips. Though he concealed his thoughts from you, you sensed he was already plotting something. But there was no way you were going to let him get out of this so easily. Absolutely not.

"My apologies, Mother. Those insects insisted on delaying our reunion. Please forgive me." He said as he gently caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing against your delicate skin. However, you turned your head away from him.

"You were intent on delaying our reunion as well," you retorted coldly, teleporting a few feet away from him. With a wave of your hand, you used your JENOVA powers to conjure a makeshift bed made of fleshy matter to lie on. Sephiroth's smirk only grew at your reaction, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. Moments later, he teleported near you and discarded his trench coat. He joined you in bed shirtless and spooned your body. The fact that he's still so confident about getting back into your good graces only made you more frustrated.

"You're getting used to your new powers already," he whispered into your ear. He just can't resist getting under your skin like an irritating child at times, can he? Just as you were about to blow him off again, he brought out a small, blue crystal and held it close to your glossy lips, causing a rare flicker of liveliness in your otherwise dull pink eyes. You couldn't believe it... This must've come from the world's core! How did he get enough time to funnel the energy into a mere crystal? Sephiroth's smirk intensified with a sinister and triumphant air as he watched your reaction in the crystal's reflection. Your tongue instinctively darted out, briefly caressing the smooth surface of the blue crystal. The intense energy it gave off was absolutely tantalizing, instantly triggering a powerful release of your pheromones to your chosen son.

"I couldn't depart from the world's core without a fitting present for my dear mother," Sephiroth whispered, pressing his lips against your ear. He delicately placed the crystal in your mouth as you eagerly opened wide to accept it. As the crystal went down, waves of intense power surged through your body, causing your eyes to shut in sheer ecstasy. What you absorbed had only furthered your destructive instincts even more. And the joy of receiving it made your heart swoon for your chosen son. You wouldn't say it yet but he's such a good boy for bringing this to you. He slid off your dress, revealing your tits to the cold air as his hands roamed your body. He then showered your neck and collarbone with a series of fiery kisses, only intensifying your power high. Your body instinctively arched toward him, yearning for more of his worship. Your pheromones commanded it, sending waves of exhilaration and bliss coursing through his veins. It was an irresistible order that he willingly obeyed, unable to resist even if he had wanted to.

With one hand, he gently traced circles on your belly using his thumb, while his hard, clothed bulge pressed against your ass. His desire to impregnate you was palpable, but he knew he had to wait until you both reached godhood. The spawn of you two deserves to be born to the strongest god and goddess. Slowly, his touch trailed down to your slit, already feeling the juices gushing from your core. With his other hand, he lifted your arm and indulged in a few teasing licks to your underarm as his nose nuzzled within, enthralled by your intoxicating scent. He craved all of you, needing this closeness to satisfy his overwhelming reunion instincts.

He slipped two of his fingers into your cunt, working you closer to your orgasm. Your lips quivered when his fingers delved deeper to seek out that sweet spot. He was putting forth every effort to make you moan, just for him. He could always sense your feelings, but nothing brings him greater joy than witnessing those intense emotions burst forth in rare moments. What he loved was that only he had the ability to make you openly express such intense emotions. He's hellbent on keeping this monopoly. No one else shall have it, nor you.

"Does it feel good, Mother?" Sephiroth asked, his gaze fixed on your quivering lips. He tenderly grasped one of your breasts, delicately rolling it between his fingertips. As he discovered your sweet spot and felt your walls tighten around his fingers, a quiet mewl escaped your lips. When you reached your climax, your cry reverberated through the void realm, your sweet juices coating his fingers. Slowly withdrawing them, he savored the taste as he admired the fruits of his labor: your panting breaths, your exhausted form, and the faint sparks of liveliness in your beautiful, dull pink eyes.

"So, how did I do?" he asked. Once you had regained your bearings, you snuggled into the fleshy bed.

"...You've done better," you replied in your typical cold, flat voice. The truth was, it was amazing, but you couldn't let him off that easily.

"Is that a challenge for more, Mother? Then I shall accept it~"

Heavily inspired by this video, I implore you all to watch.

Expect Sephiroth to always have a back-up plan whenever EVA is mad at him. xD

#sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #one winged masquerade AU #female reader #fem reader #x reader #final fantasy vii #x female reader #tw: mommy kink #tw:

[thegreatwicked]

Masterlist

I finally have enough content to justify having a master list! Thank you guys for all of your support; it's made continuing these stories that much more enjoyable knowing you're there enjoying them with me!

Shadows of Deception: In Gotham City, a world of secrets and danger, Belladonna finds herself embroiled in a web of crime when she becomes a witness to illicit activities at Roman Sions' exclusive club, Masquerade Noir. Instead of eliminating her, Roman sees an opportunity and spares her life, forming an unconventional alliance. They pose as a couple, using each other as alibis to deceive the police. But as they delve deeper into their charade, their connection intensifies, blurring the lines between reality and deception. As desire and danger collide, they discover unexpected love in the midst of a thrilling and forbidden affair. Roman Sionis/OFC Belladonna Black; slight AU, Dark Romance, forced proximity, fake relationship troupe, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen

Unbreakable Bonds: In a galaxy where Anakin Skywalker successfully resisted the pull of darkness, fulfilling his destiny as the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force, the Jedi Temple is abuzz with discussions about the traditionally forbidden nature of attachments. As Anakin assumes the role of a Jedi Master, his decision to ensure Palpatine's arrest rather than execution sets the tone for a new era.

On the way to an impromptu council meeting, where Anakin now holds a seat as a respected master, Obi-Wan Kenobi experiences an unusual sensation. A mysterious connection tugs at him when he encounters a young boy patiently waiting outside the council chambers. Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the spotlight is about to shift from Anakin to himself.

As the secrets of Obi-Wan's past unravel, the Jedi Council finds itself thrust into action much sooner than anticipated. The delicate balance of the Force, once maintained by Anakin's choices, now hinges on the unforeseen revelations from Obi-Wan's history. The galaxy is on the brink of change, and the consequences of long-held secrets may reshape the destiny of the Jedi and the Force itself.

Obi-wan/OFC Cressida Vox; Slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual romance, SMUT.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

After the Storm: An emergency crash landing on an isolated island on an alien planet leaves Hux, and a rebel spy stranded and trying to reach an emergency beacon before the local flora kill them. Hux/OFC Sola Vex; sex pollen, forced proximity, survival, alternate universe, Hux survives, Two shot

Part One, Part Two

Meditations: Amid the summer heat on Dathomir, Maul finds himself unable to sleep, restless thoughts stirring within him. Seeking solace, he attempts meditation, only to be joined by his companion Zeala. As they navigate the challenges of finding inner calm, their connection deepens, and unspoken emotions come to the surface. Together, in the quiet moments of the night, they discover a shared intimacy that transcends words and the boundaries of their world. Maul/OFC Zeala; Alternate universe, Maul and his mate, rebuilding Dathomir, soft lover Maul, but he possessive tho. One shot, SMUT

Bet You Wish You Had Me Back: Some romances burn hot and hard and threaten everyone around them, some burn fast and others smolder perfectly. This isn’t a smoldering story, nor is it a quick fire. They both knew their fire wouldn’t burn long and that the closer they got to it the hotter it would be. Because when fire is at it’s hottest the flame burns white, but the burn was too tempting for it to only happen once. Shane Walsh/OFC Austin Walker; one shot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT

Mending Feathers: Warren, having escaped the cagefighting underground, seeks refuge in a broken church, feeling crippled and directionless with his damaged wings. During a stormy night, he discovers an unexpected visitor seeking sanctuary in his church. Initially resistant, Warren is taken aback when the visitor reveals the ability to heal and restore his wings. With his ability to fly restored, Warren is free again, but questions arise about the mysterious girl and what lies ahead for him. Grappling with gratitude, Warren contemplates the next chapter of his life and wonders how he can express his thanks. Warren Worthington III/FOC Ivy; one shot, SMUT

Thunderstorms: General Hux takes some rarely used, yet long-accrued personal leave to visit his homeworld, Arkanis, and visit his wife. He arrives amidst one of the famous downpours to find his wife has never experienced a thunderstorm. Shocked, he helps her forget the storm. Hux/OFC Selene Hux; one shot, SMUT! Inspired by Lady in Writing of Tiktok!

Padawan: After disappearing from your Master for thirteen years, the Clone Wars has brought you back to the same planet and a brush with death back into each other's lives. But you’re not his Padawan anymore, you’re a knight, right? No, you’ll always be his Padawan, and he, your Master. My first reader insert, I wrote this for all you lovelies who follow/like/reblog/comment on my stuff. This is for you! Obi-Wan/You/Reader Insert. Master/Padawan, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. That is all.

Chapter Two

50 Shades of Obi-Wan: A collection of spicy and sweet reader insert one-shots between Obi-Wan and his Jedi lover (that's you) Requests are open.

One, Two

Memories of Chocolate-Laced Kisses: Obi-Wan grapples with the challenges of his new role as a father and navigates the complex and confusing relationship he shares with Cressida. As he confronts the stormy past between them, he finds himself revisiting the night that sparked it all. In the midst of swirling memories, he remembers a time when it was just him and Cressida, finding solace, pleasure, and relief in each other's company. These moments from the past haunt him like dancing ghosts, a reminder of their shared history. Obi-wan/OFC Cressid Vox; one shot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT.

We Were Cursed: Coming soon! Even the perfect fairy tale couple has an indiscretion or two under the influence of a curse, Snow White had a one-night stand with Doctor Frankenstein and Charming was married to another woman. Strange things happen under a curse, which makes you wonder what other Storybrooke residents may have done as well. Jefferson/OFC(Alice)Even the perfect fairy tale couple has an indiscretion or two under the influence of a curse, Snow White had a one-night stand with Doctor Frankenstein and Charming was married to another woman. Strange things happen under a curse, which makes you wonder what other Storybrooke residents may have done as well. Jefferson/OFC Alice Liddell ; One shot, SMUT

Healing Hands: Coming Soon! Grappling with demons is lonely and dirty work that Jason Todd often does alone, but tonight he needs backup, and in the absence of Batman or his bat siblings he turns to the one person he knows will understand his pain. A kindred spirit, his girlfriend, the Omen. Jason Todd/OFC Wrenna AKA The Omen; One shot, SMUT.

Professional Courtesy: Coming soon! Captain Cold, usually a master planner, is furious after losing a heist to a metahuman who can walk through walls. He's taken aback when he discovers she's both charming and attractive, and despite his cool demeanor, there's undeniable chemistry between them. Captain Cold/OFC Octavia, one shot, SMUT

In Service to the Night Sisters: Coming soon! Just a series of one-shots following the life of force-sensitive Zabracks on Dathomir and the purpose they serve; breeding stock. Maul/OC, Feral/OC, Savage/OC; one shot series, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT

As of right now Unbreakable Bonds and Shadows of Deceptions are my priorities but comments and encouragement do help me to know what one shot to work on next, so please let me know what you all think! Thanks my Macabrlings!

#masterlist #eventual smut #fanfiction is life #original character #i have too many stories #star wars #dc fandom #once upon a time #one shot #slow burn #shadows of deception #unbreakable bonds #reader insert

[simplegenius042]

WIP Roundup

Rules: Post the names of all (or some of) the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Tagged by @direwombat (than you so much for the tag) to share what I have cooking up in my folder. I'll only share some as there are way too many to fit in one post (...unless... no, begone devil thoughts!). I have four folders, one each for The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters, and some extra stuff that don't belong in the three universes above (includes Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore).

Anyway, below the cut is the WIP names (and their respective series they belong to) as well as the people I'm tagging. Just like direwombat (though a little differently), I will be listing them by active, snippets, or shelved. Enjoy!

[P.S I'm about to ruin my exact number of 4,000 posts LOL! Damn who knew I'd get that high]

ACTIVE WIPS (e.g. WIPs that are either published or that I am actively working on)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> Jurassic World Before The Storm

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

The Years In Hope County (FC5)

Silva's Hope (FC5)

Life, Despair & Monsters

One By One, The Towers Crack folder -> Sonya's Push - Jennifer's Story (Love Death + Robots)

SNIPPETS (e.g. WIPs I've only shown through snippets and have been bouncing back and forth between and/or can only publish once another WIP is finished)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> A Blast In The Past (original work influenced/inspired by Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

A Truce, As Null And Void As Yourself (FC5)

La Última En Pie (Kind of Original Work with references to FC5 and adapted/AU characters from The Masquerade, The Bone Season, Mermaids of Eriana Kwai, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, The Locked Tomb and Rapunzel's Tangled Adventures)

No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden (FC5)

The True Sinners (FC5)

You're Almost Like Family (FC5)

Life, Despair & Monsters

On Strong Foundations, The Tower Stands folder -> Miraculous Miracles: Tales of Hatter and his Two Buds (Miraculous)

Original Works and Other Series

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> It's A Matter of Perspective, Really... (FO3)

SHELVED (e.g. WIPs that I've currently put on the shelf as of now until I have the time and motivation to write or WIPs that haunt my dreams)

The UnTitledverse

The Perfect Storm saga -> The Dark Awakening (Original Work inspired/influenced by Bendy and the Ink Machine)

The Omniscience Rule saga -> All Who Remain (The Last Of Us)

The UnTitled Ventures saga -> UnTitled Venture: Village Of Shadows (Resident Evil Village)

Mario: Mother's Boy (Original Work)

Far Cry The Silver Chronicles

Old Dusk (FCND)

Call To Arms (COD: MW)

Ain't It A Joy? (We Happy Few)

No One's Safe At Home (Welcome To The Game)

Far Cry The Judge's Duty AU -> What Are The Chances? (FC5/FCND-ish)

Lady, Running Down To The Riptide (Taken Away To The Dark Side) (FC5 AU influenced by Bioshock Infinite)

Life, Despair & Monsters

Enemies Crawl, Along The Tower's Walls folder -> Word Of Woe - Wednesday Addams' Story (Wednesday)

On Strong Foundations, The Towers Stand folder -> The Thorned Crown Of Iron Thrones - Corvus Targaryen's Story (House Of The Dragon)

Original Works and Other Series

Wings And Horns (Original Work)

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> The Waters Of Life Flow (FO3).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> The House Always Wins (FONV).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> A Symbol For A Better World (Our World) (FO4).

A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series -> Vault Number 76 (FO76).

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @strafethesesinners @wrathfulrook @g0dspeeed @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @bitchofedensgate @inafieldofdaisies @softtidesworld @minilev @snake-in-the-garden @afarcryfrommymain @nightbloodbix @derelictheretic @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @dephellseed @fourlittleseedlings @cassietrn @chazz-anova @voidika @onehornedbeast @carlosoliveiraa @corvosattano @skoll-sun-eater @neverthesameneveranother and @ladyoriza + anyone else who wants to share their wip list!)

#wip roundup #the untitledverse #fic: jurassic world before the storm #wip: a blast in the past #wip: the dark awakening #wip: all who remain #wip: untitled venture village of shadows #wip: mario mother's boy #far cry the silver chronicles #fic: the years in hope county #wip: silva's hope #wip: a truce as null and void as yourself #wip: la última en pie #wip: no snake only a boa in the garden #wip: the true sinners #wip: you're almost like family #wip: what are the chances? #wip: lady running down to the riptide (taken away to the dark side) #wip: old dusk #wip: call to arms #wip: ain't it a joy? #wip: no one's safe at home #life despair & monsters #wip: sonya's push #wip: miraculous miracles tales of hatter and his two buds #wip: word of woe #wip: the thorned crown of iron thrones #series: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore #original works #wip: wings and horns

[laawlesss]

;; Amidst These Royal Halls…

— ;; minific monday ! a oneshot (almost) every monday, usually under 5k words.. (..usually..)

>> in which you attend a masquerade.

; words ? ; 6.4k.

; warnings ? ; none.

; genre ? ; fluff.

; request ? ; no.

; pairing ? ; keigo takami x reader.

; notes ; royal au!! also feminine terms used for reader, i.e. lady. might be a little out of character and not all that dashing but i had fun writing the descriptions so. i may eventually make a part 2 who knows. crossposted on ao3!

    It was raining. Sheets of heavy drops pounded at the sides of your carriage, beating at the thin windows and intricate wooden exterior. You could hear the horses whinny, the coach muttering amidst the torrents. Delightful weather, really. The road beneath the rigid carriage wheels was covered in a thin layer of water, splashing as it pushed forward through the growing night. The ride was bumpy, and not all that pleasant for you, stationed in the plush velvet seat of the dry interior, but your mind was too far elsewhere to care. 

    This kind of ball was one that few rarely saw. It was an honor to even catch a glimpse of the invitees, an even bigger honor to be invited. Held once every few years, it was a gathering of the most elite and extravagant. The ball was held in the massive castle grounds of the duke, a man who was well known but had a darker air to him that few had the courage to speak about. And now, as the theme of the ball was masquerade, he’d fit right in. 

    You adjusted your dress, long and elegant, hints of golds and reds so dark they almost seemed black woven throughout. The bodice was tight, but fit you perfectly, accentuating every inch of your upper half. The sleeves were low cut and came down to the middle of your forearm, leaving your elegant shoulders, collarbone, and neckline on full display. The velvet skirt was long, but yet not too much so, you didn’t need anyone stepping on the fabric in the midst of the crowded floor. Matching gloves adorned your hands, accentuated with golden rings and bracelets. 

    Ruffling the layers of your skirt, you admired them, running a graceful hand down the expensive fabrics, gazing at the loving handiwork. You’d commissioned the dress, and it had been worth every gold piece. It fit to you like a second skin, feeling as comfortable as a cloud surrounding you. You exhale slowly, reminding yourself to personally hire the dressmaker if they made such masterpieces with ease. 

    You felt the carriage come to a halt with a steady rocking, alerting that you’d arrived at your final destination. A slight jolt of anxiety shot through you, making you shiver, before it was gone in an instant and your confidence returned. This is where you were meant to be, amidst the high class and the extravagance. These were your people, expensive taste and an even more expensive fashion sense. 

    Rain still battered at the walls of the carriage, and you waited with practiced patience. Soon enough, the door unlatched, and a man stood waiting with an umbrella. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take hold, and you did so, stepping down from the carriage with an undisturbed grace. Your skirt flowed down around you, another man holding the hems up so the water on the meticulously patterned courtyard steps wouldn’t damage the dress. Your tall heels clicked on the marble, the cool air of the early night spreading goosebumps over your exposed skin. 

    Beginning your pace up the steps, the men matched their pace to yours, making sure not a single raindrop landed on your form. They were silent, but it was comforting. You were no stranger to high-end gatherings, but they drained you, so you kept your mouth shut for now, relishing in the beloved silence. 

    The castle was massive and intimidating in every beautiful way. A large statue of a hawk with outstretched wings stood in the middle of the vast garden, made of a gorgeous white stone inlaid with gold veins. The doors marking the entrance were just as gorgeous as the rest of the surroundings, made of a beautiful dark wood lined with patterns and carvings. The guards that surrounded the doors hefted the towering frames open as you approached, your own men falling behind as you strolled through the entry on your own. 

    The edge of your dress swept over the smooth marble, making a gentle swishing noise that your ears loved. Tapestries hung on the high walls of the main entry, candles flickering soft, warm light against the cold stone. From a distance you could hear music, flowing throughout the halls. It was mesmerizing, the beauty of the palace. Your footsteps echoed in the wide space, magnifying as the sound reflected. It made you feel powerful, in a sense. 

    Some maid scurried forward to guide you to the ballroom, her gaze fixed to the floor as she walked. She seemed frightened, visibly shaking a bit. An amused smile crossed your features, and you felt a twinge of pity for the young girl. You thanked her and bid her a good evening once you’d reached the hall, your actions seeming to have lifted some of her stress. 

    Your presence was announced as you reached the landing of the staircase that led down into the ballroom. Every gaze in the room was drawn to your image, and it was exhilarating. You scanned the enormous room, soft eyes catching the crowd of people below you, the slightly raised stage where a talented band was playing, a flurry of servants rushing around the room with refreshments, and the most awe-inspiring view, the duke’s throne. 

    It sat a little ways above the ballroom floor, on a raised platform much higher than the band’s. The duke had no suitor, so his chair stood solidly alone. The throne upon the pedestal was tall and ornate, detailed with gold and dark wood. The plush velvet of the seat was a red similar to the color of spilt blood, his ceremonial crown resting on the cushion, waiting for its master. The duke still had yet to arrive himself, but a steward had offered a comforting excuse for his absence and urged the party onward in his stead. 

    You were the last guest to arrive, ever so fashionably late. Your dark attire stood out to him amongst the classy whites and pastels of the other attendees. A certain man couldn’t keep his magnetic eyes off of you, the way you wore such a striking theme. And it complimented you. You wore it well. When you turned and he saw your mask, themed after a black hawk, it took all of the air out of his lungs. He yearned for you to look at him, to turn and face him so that he could see all of you. But you didn’t. 

    Drawn off by a different man asking for a dance, you made your way to the main floor, carrying yourself with such a presence that the crowd of nobles in attendance parted as you seemed to float over the marble. You seemed a god among men, the way you held up your head, your jawline and tapered neck that of an angel. Hushed whispers surrounded you, but you paid them no mind. Who were they to a deity? 

    Your skirt swept around your heeled feet as you reached the dance floor, bracing yourself on the stranger’s hand with a light grip. Each movement was precise, calculated, not a hair out of place. You were perfect, in every sense of the word. The man set a confident hand on your waist, cupping your hip as he twirled you. Your dress fanned out as you spun, slight exhilaration flowing through your veins. The dance was quick paced, the music played by the band loud and commanding. You allowed yourself to be carried by the tune, following the leading steps of the man you were dancing with. 

    The man’s mask was themed with blue, patterned fire outlining his half-lidded cerulean eyes. His coat was a darker purple, the black hair on his head having been combed down. He was handsome, but not your type, not that you were particularly looking for a suitor at the time. His hands gripped a bit too tight to yours, his breath a little too close to your collarbone. 

    As the music faded, you struggled to pull yourself away from his grip, a slight grimace marring your beautiful features as tension grew in the air. Who was this man to think he could lay a hand on you? Gazes were beginning to draw to the two of you, the edge of his smirk disappearing under the mask you now thought of as gaudy. Disgusting pig, you knew dancing was a bad idea. Regrets were spilling through your head, how would you get out of this without causing a scene?

    “A dance, my lady?” A smooth voice spoke from behind you, holding out a kind hand. Glancing over your shoulder with a swift turn of your head, the man’s face was obscured by a red mask similar to yours, with the motif of a hawk’s wings in midflight. His blonde locks were loose and seemed windswept, as though he’d just snuck in from the roof of the castle. Soft, pale stubble dusted his chin and sharp jawline, a knowing smirk gracing his lips. But what caught your attention was his pointed gaze, glowing a shade of gold you’d only seen in your father’s vast treasury. 

    You missed the glare given to the darker haired man, but he released his hold on you all the same. Turning, you nearly rushed into your savior’s arms, laying your hand neatly in his outstretched one. His gloved fingers curled around yours, and he pulled you lightly into him, his other arm bracing your waist against him. In his half-embrace, you noticed he smelled like the air after rain, like the sky and the wind, his golden gaze fixed on the dark man that had had you trapped mere moments before. 

    Panning your eyes upwards, you admired him, handsome even though his features were obscured by his winged mask. You could tell his jaw was clenched, his grasp on your hand tightening slightly as the hold he had on you became more protective. The two men had a silent exchange, spoken only through slanted eyes and sneers, before the man with the flame mask spun with a flourish and stormed off, leaving you with your handsome stranger. 

    He released a breath, and looked down to you, his pupils blowing wide when he noticed you’d been staring at him. That look, one of such bright curiosity and gratitude, it would have had him on his knees if not for his self control. Your eyes nearly had him swooning, and he didn’t even know your name. It was pathetic really, the way his heart had begun to race, his tongue nervously flicking out to run over his lips. 

    You admired him, his open white tailcoat lined with gold trim. The patterns on his coat were in a darker, more subtle shade, and the poet’s shirt underneath was ruffled and smooth. Thin golden chains kept his coat over his shoulders, his boots making soft clicks on the floor. Rubies hung from his ears, sparkling in the candlelight. 

    You sent him a warm smile, slowly pulling yourself away from his chest and out into a dancing position as the musicians began to play another upbeat tune, violins singing into the open air. Quickly regaining his stride, a confident aura surrounded the man, following you back into the center of the crowd as you began your second dance of the evening, accompanied by the swell of the string instruments and the humming of the excited voices in the room. 

    He led you gracefully in time to the song, a hand holding yours as the two of you flowed together like a fine vintage. Every movement the two of you made was smooth and fluid, onlookers hardly able to distinguish where one of you ended and the other began. You had no knowledge of the man’s identity, nor him yours, but you danced and spun together as if you’d practiced in each other’s arms for years. 

    The music began to rise, the song reaching its highest point as he spun you skillfully around the room again and again, dipping you, pulling you close then letting you twirl away. Your chemistry was unmatched, your gazes intertwined and latched only on each other. Breathless smiles were mirrored on your faces, your feet locked into the motions you’d practiced daily as a child, muscle memory taking hold. 

    The musicians drew the song to a triumphant close, the man in white sweeping you down into a low dip, supporting your weight with ease. Your chests heaved as you panted simultaneously, your eyes never leaving his. You were captivated, stuck in a trance, his golden irises scanning your face. The dance had connected you, tying you together. 

    Bringing you back to a stable stance, he righted you, both of his large hands now resting on your hips. Warmth radiated through his gloves, a few beads of sweat lining his temple. Your lips pursed in another smile, your head tilting to the side. Your dance with him was short, but you enjoyed every moment of it. The two of you glided off of the dance floor, having decided to take a well-deserved break after being the center of attention during the last tune. A butler brought around tall champagne flutes on a silver platter, offering one to you and your dance partner. 

    The man took one for himself, then another for you, offering it with an outstretched hand and a soft smirk. You accepted, holding it neatly in your grasp before turning back to the crowd. The room had begun to heat from the mass of bodies, the once cool air now stuffy and suffocating. Sighing, you glanced around hurriedly for the doors you came in through, but the man at your side was quicker. 

    “Come with me.” He murmured to you, leaning in close so that you would catch his words. His breath ghosted against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, before he pulled back and gently led you back through the crowd with a light hand pressed into the small of your back. He seemed to know his way around very well, dodging the occasional flourished arm or misplaced leg. 

    Both of your hands occupied, one holding gently to the stranger’s free hand and the other clasped around the champagne flute, your heart leapt in your chest as someone shoved into you, causing you to lurch forward. You saw the ground rushing ever closer, only for you to be stopped and yanked into a hard chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

    “You alright there, dove?” You looked up, eyes catching on the bright red winged mask of the stranger you’d come to admire. It was his chest you were pulled so unceremoniously into, your hand resting hesitantly on his pecs. His smile calmed you, soothing your wild nerves. “Don’t go too far.” You had no intention of leaving his side, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. 

    He wrapped a secure arm around your waist, waiting until you had gathered your decency before continuing his march, his gaze flitting occasionally to admire you out of his peripheral. You had his heart pounding, your pursed lips sending his mind racing out of control. His boots clicked against the floor as he wove through the crowd with ease, pulling you along in another sort of dance. 

    The two of you eventually reached the towering glass doors that lead to the sprawling balcony, elegant shapes rimmed with gold frame. The handles were elegantly carved from precious metal, curled at one end with what looked like an extended wing making up the actual handle. They sparkled in the candlelight, the man clasping one in a firm hand before pushing the tall door open for you. 

    You dipped your head in respect to him, slowly pacing out onto the wide balcony. The rain had stopped, leaving nothing to block the deep navy sky. Faint stars illuminated the thick air, crickets singing a soothing chorus in the palace gardens far below the elegant balcony. The doors shut softly behind you with a gentle click, yet you could still hear the faint, muffled music of the distant violins. 

    Stepping elegantly to the balcony, you rested your gloved hand upon the perfectly carved marble railing, your gaze wide as you admired the depths of the night. The man soon joined you, though his gaze was focused more on you than the natural beauty that mother nature provided. You looked awestruck, stars reflecting in the deep pools of your eyes, your breath calm and slow. The moonlight reflected off of your skin and hair, giving you an ethereal glow. 

    “Lovely night, isn’t it?” He mused, his voice light and kind. He was glad he wore his mask, a pale blush spreading across his cheeks as you turned your beautiful gaze to meet his. With a meek smile, you nodded, raising your glass to your lips as you relished in the taste of the expensive drink. 

    “It is.” You spoke after a moment, your voice filling the open air. A thin layer of dew had begun to settle over the marbled railing, and you ran a finger over it, admiring the way it sparkled in the pale light. “You’d have thought those rain clouds would have hidden the moon, in all her glory.” Your eyes were drawn up, and he followed, staring at the earthly satellite with a sense of peace. 

    “We’re lucky she decided to grace us with her presence.” The man nodded, though his golden eyes were fixed on you when he said it. He took a sip from his own glass, before gracefully swirling it, head tilted as he shifted around to rest his back against the railing. “May I ask your name, my lady?” He was all too eager to know anything about you, any meager fragment of knowledge that you would offer. 

    “Now, that would defeat the purpose of a masquerade, wouldn’t it, birdie?” You sent him a sly smile, remarking on his mask. He seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, before he shook his head with a playful sigh. Your little pet name for him had made his heart jump, his breathing halting for a split second. 

    “Ah. I suppose it can’t be helped then, can it, little hawk?” He retorted, stepping closer as he remarked on your own mask. “What fate, that our masks should both don such an elegant creature?” He winked, the golden chains that adorned his outfit nearly glowing silver. 

    “Elegant and dangerous.” You mused, deciding to allow yourself to admire the man before you. His legs were long and his figure was built, his waist lean as he relaxed against the marble. His shoulders weren’t exactly broad, but they were sturdy, his hands graced with a few rings that glowed a bloody shade of red in the moonlight. Though you couldn’t see the top half of his face, you could tell he was handsome. 

    The two of you were in a different kind of dance, one with words instead of motions. It was a dance of position, of power, of pure elegance. You ran a finger over the rim of your champagne glass, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his sharp gaze followed your motions eagerly. You smirked, before bringing the glass to your lips and taking another sip. 

    “You carry yourself differently than the other nobles. What family do you come from?” He hummed, desiring to learn at least something about you. You who seemed utterly divine in his eyes, perfect and soft as a dove. 

    You chuckled, stepping forward and gently caressing his mask with a finger. “Masquerade, birdie. Identities aren’t welcome here.” Your grin had his heart fluttering, your gesture sending a slight shiver through him. Your mere existence was addictive to him. 

    He groaned at the rules he himself had set, he had hoped that by holding a masquerade he could more closely interact with the people who ranked beneath him, yet now he cursed himself for deciding on such a theme. Though your mask surely was beautiful, he wanted nothing more than to see your features unobscured. 

    Your chuckle grew into a soft laugh, and you spun away from him, setting your glass down on the railing as your dress swept over the wide balcony. The stars above you set the perfect scene, the moon a gentle spotlight. Wrapping your arms around your own waist, you let yourself sway to the music that drifted through the doors and reached the balcony. Letting your eyes close as you hummed along to the tune, you rubbed your hands over your arms as the night began to become biting. 

    Just after a certain strong shiver made its way up your spine, you felt a thick fabric drape over your shoulders, a bit oversized on your form. Once you reopened your eyes, you saw your handsome acquaintance use his strong hands to carefully secure his own cape around you with a glittering gold pin in the shape of a hawk. 

    “There. Wouldn’t want you catching cold, dove.” He grinned, his eyes glinting behind his mask. You were thankful for your own mask hiding the faintest blush that painted your cheeks. You mumbled a quick thank you, before he held out his hand, the other braced on his chest. 

    “What kind of man would I be to leave you to dance with yourself?” He winked, his confidence becoming addictive. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening at the sight of the attractive stranger. 

    His posture was bowed slightly to you, his arm outstretched. His wind blown hair framed his face perfectly, his eyes gazing up at you as if you were the sun, the moon, and every star in the deep navy sky far above the two of you. The moonlight flecked his molten gold eyes with sparkling silver, and it was as if you could see the wealth of a kingdom’s treasury in his gaze. The way he held himself seemed to be in a kind of appreciation of your figure before him, the tips of his ears bright red. 

    Recovering, you took his hand once again, your heart pounding in your chest. This dance was slow, unlike the previous ones you had performed that night. Every movement was still perfect, but you seemed to flow into one another, your steps and slight caresses slow and meaningful. 

    The faint music from the ballroom was accompanied by a choir of crickets and garden frogs below the balcony, your body filling with warmth not only from the stranger’s coat but from your proximity. The two of you had drawn unconsciously closer, and soon you had rested your head on his shoulder, his free hand rested on your hip while one of your arms loosely hung around his neck. 

    You felt comfortable, oddly attached to the man you’d only met a few hours prior. Something about him radiated safety and sanctuary. Your fingers ran through the short fluffy hair at the base of the back of his neck, drawing a small shudder and a gentle sigh from the man. It made you smile as you lost yourself in the moment with him. 

    The two of you swayed for what felt like millennia and yet only a few meager seconds, breathless when the song inside the ballroom came to an end even though your movements during the entire dance were slow and easy. Your pulse was racing, your cheeks warm, your pose oddly rigid as you debated where to go from there. 

    “…You’re an incredible dancer.” He mused, tilting his head to the side as he did his best to hide his disappointment at your new distance. His hands twitched in an urge to reach for you again, slightly confused at how connected to you he felt. 

    “I ought to be the one telling you that, birdie.” You smiled, your heels tapping on the marble flooring. “You didn’t step on my foot once.” You hummed good-naturedly, earning a dramatic scoff from the man opposite you. 

    “I’ll have you know I’m one of the best dancers in the entire kingdom.” He nodded, peering at you out of the corner of one eye as he slyly grinned. He enjoyed your presence more than he thought he would, aching to be in your proximity constantly. Though it was humid and frigid, the man never wanted to return indoors. He’d give anything to spend a few more moments with you. 

    “Oh? My apologies, your highness, I wasn’t aware of your ranking in the ballroom.” You laughed, bowing yourself in a short, teasing curtsey. You missed the way his shoulders tensed at your words, but it was gone before you raised your head again. 

    “You can leave behind the pleasantries, dove, though I have my prowess I couldn’t hold a candle to you.” His honeyed tone had you reeling. With a sigh he leaned against the balcony railing, staring out at the gardens below with a soft gaze. His teasing had all but vanished, replaced with a gentle stillness. 

    You paused a moment before moving over to him, watching as he turned to lean his back on the railing instead, mimicking his posture from earlier. Growing closer, you could hear your heart start to pound, resting one arm on one side of the stranger. Using your free hand, you gently traced the outline of his mask, a finger slipping just under the edge. 

    In an instant, he had a strong hand clasped tightly onto your wrist, preventing you from lifting his mask any further. His pulse was racing as fast as yours, his cheeks and ears tinted pink in the dark light. His eyes had narrowed, but after your gaze remained innocent, he relaxed his hold. 

    “I thought you were adamant about keeping identities out of the equation, sweetheart?” He tilted his head, a grin stretching across his face. His confidence had returned in an instant, his grip sliding from your wrist down your arm. He was still gentle, his touch feather-light. 

    “I was. I am.” You nodded, your hand moving back up to cup his face. “Just trust me.” You knew it was insane, asking a man you’d only just met to trust you so fully, but you felt such a strong connection to him, even after a mere few hours. You weren’t sure what exactly you were feeling, your heartbeat rapid and your breath caught in your throat. 

    The man swallowed thickly, his eyes never leaving yours as you gently pulled away his mask, instead covering the top half of his face with your hand. Setting his own intricately designed accessory on a dry spot on the marble railing, you used your other hand to remove your own mask. Still blocking his sight, you leaned in closer, hardly an inch away from his face. You could hear a shaky breath leave the man, and you smiled, before pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to his lips. 

    Letting his eyes close behind your hand, the man brought an arm up to cup your waist, the other bracing himself on the railing. You pulled away after a few seconds, replacing his mask as you turned away to fix yours. Your actions had your mind racing, though you calmed yourself with the thought that you’d likely never see the fellow noble again. The kingdom was vast, and the man you’d just kissed seemed like some baron who owned a tiny portion of land tucked away in some corner of the map. That didn’t make you feel any less drawn to him, though. 

    Once your identity was hidden, you turned back around, your eyes catching on the silhouette of the figure in front of you. He was reclined, a hand swept through his hair, eyes cast downward as a placid smile graced his face. He looked all too much like a handsome painting, glowing in the moonlight. 

    With a turn of his head, you were again captivated by his eyes, glowing in shades of wealth. “Am I dreaming?” He spoke as his smile grew. “If I am, dear God, let me sleep for a while longer—“ You laughed, retrieving your glass and finishing it off, adjusting your gloves in a moment to collect yourself. 

    A trumpet sounded from inside the ballroom, and the man jolted, darting up from his languid pose. “I just remembered, I, uh, I have something I need to take care of.” He straightened his poet’s shirt and adjusted his mask, reaffirming himself before stopping in his stride to the doors. He pivoted and kneeled, grasping your hand and placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “It really was lovely meeting you here. Let me save you again sometime, hm?” And then he was off, gone in an instant. 

    You were a bit awestruck, wondering what exactly you had done to make the man panic and rush back into the ballroom. With a sigh, you brushed it off. It was a mere fling, encouraged by champagne and the ballroom musicians. It was never meant to last longer than the dance the two of you had shared. You readjusted his coat on your shoulders, thinking that he at least trusted you enough with his expensive coat. 

    Pacing back into the ballroom, you noticed that the scene had changed. Men and women were no longer milling around, dancing in a romantic haze, but their eyes were drawn to the platform where the duke’s throne sat. Joyful conversations flowed amidst the room, eager now that the duke would finally make an appearance. 

    You handed your empty glass off to a servant, and made your way into the crowd, now somewhat excited to see the duke. You’d heard rumors about him, eyes like jewelry and an easy-going personality, and you were eager to put a face to the great Duke Takami. He had a reputation of being lax and forgiving, but would strike down any enemy that opposed him in the blink of an eye. 

    The sounding of a trumpet announced the official entrance of the duke, and your jaw dropped when you saw him step atop the stage and lower himself into a deep flourishing bow. He was without his elegant coat, but he looked extravagant nonetheless. He had combed quickly through his hair, calming the attractive mess, before pulling his red-winged mask from his face. His golden eyes swept over the room, searching for a certain someone, before they landed on you and he smiled. 

    The duke greeted the crowd, earning claps and a few cheers. “My deepest apologies for being late, unfortunately duties never sleep.” At this, he sent a wink your way, causing you to fluster. “I hope everyone has enjoyed the party in my stead, may the wine flow, drink and be merry to your heart’s content.” Scooping his crown off his throne, he set it atop his head and made himself comfortable in his lavish throne. Though his eyes would occasionally sweep the room, they would always make their way back to you. 

    You were somewhat awestruck. You had kissed the duke on a whim. A million thoughts racing through your mind, you spun into the crowd, letting yourself get lost amidst the other nobles. You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, so in the meantime, you took to distracting your mind with champagne and music. 

    —————

    It was well into the night, most of the attending nobles having been ushered off drunkenly to their carriages. The ballroom was next to empty, so were most of the corridors of the castle. You had asked a servant for the way to the gardens, and now you sat admiring the dulled shades of the flowers as even crickets began to quiet. You would soon call for your carriage, but for the moment, you relished in replaying the night’s events. 

    The stranger, or rather, the duke, had been so delicate and kind with you when you danced. His arm was always firm and guiding, his smile warm. Something about him continually drew you in, and endlessly confused you. What was it about him that made you feel so… secure? 

    Sighing, you used a hand to smooth over your skirt, adjusting the layers as you settled onto a carved bench. Though the night was nearly pitch black, a few warm lanterns illuminated the garden, casting everything in a kind orange glow. The garden itself was beautiful, a wide array of various flora was elegantly pruned to a perfect state of overgrowth, a quietly bubbling fountain sat at the center with a statue similar to the hawk at the entrance of the castle. Towering marble arches covered in curtains of vines outlined the courtyard, creating a refuge that was almost picturesque. 

    The air was still cold, and you were thankful for the coat the duke had given you. Though you knew you’d eventually have to return it to him, you let yourself enjoy the warmth it offered. Your hand came up to fiddle with one of the golden chains that adorned it, a graceful smile on your features as you admired it. 

    “You can keep it, if you like it so much.” You nearly jumped out of your skin as the voice sounded from ahead of you, your eyes catching on the figure of the duke. He had lost his mask for the night, his face all the more handsome up close. The lanterns reflected off the angles in his face, giving him the air of danger. His eyes glowed a shade of molten orange, a stark contrast to the blues that surrounded the two of you. 

    Holding a hand over your heart to calm it, your gaze narrowed, and you turned your head away from him. “You should have told me you were the duke, your grace.” You added after a moment, straightening your posture. 

    “And you should have told me you were an angel, I think we may have both been pleasantly surprised.” He mused, a playful grin on his face. You rolled your eyes, before your hand flew to your face, your eyes widening when you remembered you’d removed your mask when you’d entered the garden. You’d assumed that you would have complete solitude, so you’d set it on the bench next to you. Sighing, you let your hands drop into your lap. 

    He stepped over to stand closer to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. You weren’t sure how he wasn’t freezing, his poets shirt didn’t look like it offered him much warmth. “Aren’t you cold?” You murmured, reaching to pull his coat from your shoulders. 

    “I’d rather suffer through a blizzard if it meant you didn’t have to feel even a shiver, my lady.” He grinned, sending you a wink as he laid a gentle hand over yours, preventing you from removing the coat. You groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. Soon you covered your mouth in an attempt to hide the amused smile that braced your lips, slight elation filling you. Was he so playfully charming with everyone?

    “I’d hate to be the one responsible for your sickness, your grace.” You hummed, moving to the side to offer him some room on the bench. He seemed surprised, but picked up on the hint you offered, taking a seat next to you. His eyes seemed to rove over the garden, giving you ample time to admire his features without him knowing.

 

    You knew he was handsome, but it was only until you were in his perfect proximity did you realize just how beautiful the duke was. With a breathy sigh, you caught his attention, your heart leaping into your throat when you watched his eyes slowly shift to you. He turned his head and sent you a smirk that had your head spinning. “Then I’ll just share your warmth.” He slid closer to you, bracing an arm behind you. 

    His actions had you frozen, before you laughed, staring up at the night sky. “You truly are a character, aren’t you, Duke Takami?” His eyes widened, then he smiled at your outburst. Letting out a breath, he watched you as you admired the night, all too pleased that he was able to see your features now that your mask was gone. 

    It was comfortably silent between the two of you for a few moments before the duke spoke up again. “Keigo.” He offered, his golden eyes fierce. You were confused, your brow furrowed slightly as you pondered what he meant. “You don’t have to call me ‘your grace’ or ‘duke’ or anything. I’d prefer if you just used my name.” He nodded, shifting to place his palm over one of your hands in your lap.

 

    “Your grace, I—“ You started, but he quickly cut you off, squeezing your hand. 

    “I insist.” He grinned, and you gave in. It was a little odd, calling the duke by his given name, but it was an honor that you weren’t about to pass up. You gave in, letting yourself relax as the two of you enjoyed the scenery. The night was beginning to push into the small hours of the morning, and your eyes were beginning to feel heavy. All the dancing and excitement had definitely worn you out, your legs were sure to be weary when the sun rose. 

    You couldn’t manage to hold back your yawn, and in a moment of perhaps misplaced confidence and security, let yourself lean into the duke’s side. He looked down at you in surprise, his eyes widening, before he moved the arm that was behind you around to cover your shoulders. The night was freezing, and goosebumps rose on every surface of his skin as he tried his best to disguise his faint shiver. Welcoming your warmth, he was happy to act as a cushion for you, smiling down at you. 

    You hummed in contentment, your eyes lulled shut by the soothing breeze and Keigo’s gentle breathing. Everything was perfect, your head resting gracefully on his chest, your legs tucked over one another. Your hands were even folded in your lap, elegant even as you drifted off. The man made sure to hold you steady, putting you at ease. 

    His golden eyes watched you with curiosity and longing, wishing he could have spent another entire night with you. He wanted to forget his duties as a duke, but as much as he wanted to, he had responsibilities that he couldn’t just forget about. In the meantime, he took to cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your carriage, even leaving his coat curled around your shoulders so that you would have an excuse to visit him again. 

#— 🤍 ; minific monday!! #mha hawks #hawks #keigo takami #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo x reader #keigo x you #fluff

[toads-n-moss]

gonna ramble about the no dl6 au again because i need to talk about the symbolism of the masquerade outfits.

(also lil announcement/question at the end :3)

first of all, the masks

let's start with phoenix's. while many of the masks are not accurate to the actual animals colors, this one i tried to stay close to the original colors.

phoenix's mask is that of a dove. more specifically, a mourning dove.

if you are visited by a mourning dove, it is meant to symbolize the visitation of a deceased love one. it symbolizes a message of hope and emcouragement from the loved one.

phoenix's mask essentially represents his old self, the version of him from chapter 1. but that version of him is dead, and a new version of himself has taken his place. but the mask is still a message of hope to miles. a message that phoenix is still there underneath the prosecutor veil.

next we got franziska's.

her mask is that of a lamb. lambs are often symbols of purity and innocence, but that's not the message i wanted to convey. what else are lambs symbolic of?

sacrifice. blind followers.

at this point in the story, franziska (alongside phoenix) is still a blind follower to manfred. while both of them begin to have their doubts against him, they'd never dare to say anything.

the ideals and behaviors of what a von karma should be are so deeply woven into franziska's identity, that she ends up sacrificing who she really is. the fact that the mask completely hides her eyes just emphasizes the blind follower aspect.

next up is miles' mask.

miles' mask is that of a raven. while ravens usually symbolize death or the warning of death to come, ravens can also symbolize grief and mourning in literature.

for the five years between chapters one and two, miles mourned phoenix as if he were dead, even though he was simply just missing.

the red on the mask, while mainly is just there to complement the outfit and make it stand out, also represents something important. after phoenix was attacked in thorns of the turnabout, miles felt constantly guilty for being unable to save phoenix. he feels that the blood is on his hands now.

but the symbolism doesn't stop at the masks!!

phoenix's corset and cuffs

his cuffs are of course meant to resemble the sleeves of franziska's canon outfit.

but the corset... ohhh the corset. phoenix's mask is a bird, which birds typically symbolize freedom. but his corset resembles a birdcage. trapped without even realizing it, his wings clipped and his freedom taken away.

but...

someone has the key to his freedom.

now time for the question :D!!

if i were to open up a Q+A for this au, would yall be down to ask things? these questions could be about character designs or story elements or case details or just silly headcanons. i may respond in text or art form, depending on the question asked :D!!

i will not be offended if you say no btw! /gen. i just want to make sure i know how much time i should dedicate to the asks without drawing too much of my attention away from main storybuilding posts and finished art pieces.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #no dl 6 #toadies ramblings #i love putting symbolism in literally everything #yes im a literature nerd how could you tell

[sirduckytontheduck]

Finished Fics - November

1. Heavyweight by emmbrancsxxo, valleydean (emmbrancsxxo)

word count: 206,744

Brooklyn, 1927. The Golden Age of Boxing. Two years ago, light heavyweight champion Dean Winchester and heavyweight champion Castiel Novak had a secret affair. After a scandal tarnished Cas’ name and stripped him of his title, the two parted ways. Now, with a heavyweight tournament on the horizon, Dean aims to up his weight class so he can compete for the title. He finds unexpected competition when Cas comes out of retirement and returns to New York to fix his reputation. Upon their reunion, the two contenders learn that, outside of the ring, some bruises never really heal.

With this fic, I expected there to be more tension within character dynamics in regards attitudes towards homosexuality as this is somewhat of a period piece, but I think that it is easier to achieve the happy ending the characters ultimately get without the added angst. But I really did like the world building and the building of plot! A very good read! I read it relatively quickly because I didn't want to put it down!

2. Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

word count: 181,619

Under the cover of a masquerade ball, Castiel has five nights to recover the key to his people's freedom. The world has changed greatly in the six centuries since their banishment into the void, but the task isn't impossible. Unfortunately for Castiel, this is going to involve talking to people - especially the Knight Prince who has taken an interest in Castiel and his "costume" wings. (Destiel Cinderella AU)

I thought this was an interesting take on the character dynamics between Dean and Cas. The slow burn is slow burn! But, in my opinion, it is kind of weird in the sense that it is very one-sided for a large portion of the fic. Once we get to where the feelings are for sure reciprocated, there's just so much plot that I didn't feel as satisfied with the outcome at the end. Overall, I would give this fic a 6.75/10, but that's just personal preference. It is definitely worth giving a chance!

3. Right Where You Left Me by outdean

word count: 93,581

Ten years after the empty swallows Cas up, it spits him right back out—but a lot can change in a decade. OR The "Cas comes back from the empty to find that Dean is married" fic.

Objectively, this was a good fic! Like, I finished it in a couple days because I was invested in the plot, but I just don't really like romance stories that play off of emotional infidelity. I think it's great that they end up together in the end, but I am a firm believer that cheating is bad, so that's my only criticism on this one.

4. Twist and Shout by standbyme, gabriel

word count: 97,556

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

Everyone's read this one. And it is one of the most terrible, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching stories ever written. (Which could be saying a lot, I don’t know.) This was the second time I read this fic and I finished it in one night. Needless to say, I'm glad my roommate wasn't woken up by my frequent trips to the bathroom to blow my nose from how much I was crying.

5. And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets

word count: 56,972

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

I thought this fic was rather sweet. It was interesting which poems the author included in their story, but even more interesting was their own poems created for the story! I love when people create art because it inspires others to create art of their own.

#fanfic rec #destiel #twist and shout #heavyweight #cinderwings #destiel fic rec