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#blood doilies
macabresymphonies · 1 month
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Look, I'm not really on the "Smirk's 14 is back bby" train just yet, but I did notice that Alice of all people has been making some strange jokes all throughout the show so far.
Yes, Alice is like a Family Guy episode, she shoots jokes at mach speed to see if anything lands, but with stuff she's been saying there's seem to be a strange overarching theme of her referencing Entities (or avatars if you prefer). We're not the only one noticing this, Sam very much did too:
TMAGP 06 Sam: Okay firstly, this place is making you really morbid. (...)
I know that she references creepy stuff all around and with Smrik's 14 basically covering each fear on earth we might lean into confirmation bias, but it might be significant in the future so it's better to consider it now than later. With that, let me compile all of Alice's morbid "jokes" so far and how they seem to relate to Fears from TMA:
The Dark
TMAGP 01 Alice: Boooo! Your pathetic addiction to vitamin D will only make you weak.
The Flesh/The Spiral
TMAGP 01 Alice: Listen to me: bones are a lie peddled by Big Milk to keep you buying. No such thing.
The Stranger
TMAGP 01 Alice: Don’t boo me! I created you, and I can destroy you!
The Spiral (specifically mention of molding a person like clay, like in The Great Twisting)
TMAGP 01 Alice: You'll see. Anyway, hurry it up, time to mold you like clay into the perfect government drone for the Office of Incident Assessment and Response.
The Spiral
TMAGP 02 Alice (sardonic): Time isn’t real.
The Spiral (specifically MAG 74: Fatigue)
TMAGP 06 Alice: Have you considered simply bypassing your mouth altogether and injecting the beans directly into your bloodstream? Sam: Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that? Alice: Not enough coffee beans in your blood.
The Dark (very blatantly)
TMAGP 06 Alice: Oh Sam. The sun is the enemy. It rules the world of light but we who dwell in darkness feel only its wrath. Get the curtains.
The Flesh
TMAGP 06 Alice: Then we draw lots and one of you gets eaten at the Christmas party.
The Flesh (again)
TMAGP 06 Alice: “Would you like tea Celia? Coffee perchance? My heart carved from my chest and arranged on a little doily? Please, Celia, cut out my tongue so I can always be there to lick your stamps for you!”
These seem... strangely consistent, whenever she goes her gallows humour bit it's either reference to hating on the sun (light), humorous "I'm baltantly gaslighting you" stuff or reference to eating/getting eaten/cannibalism. Take that as you will, these could be "easter eggs", but they might as well be clues.
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kitten4sannie · 11 months
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𝐀 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞
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pairing: dragon shifter! seonghwa x knight! reader (fem) x fem! oc feat. king! hongjoong 
genre: fantasy au, slight angst, romance, smut (so, so much i promise <3)
summary: a knight is ordered by the king to save the princess from a fearsome dragon. this, of course, is a common fairy tale with a predictable ending — but what happens when there’s more to the story than meets the eye? 
w.c: 11.3k
warnings: brief mention of branding, some violence/injury/blood, service top! seonghwa, switch! reader, switch! oc, f/f, threesome dynamics, pet names, praise, marking, long tongue kink, use of a tail (yk what i’m sayinggg), fingering (f/f receiving), oral (f/f/m receiving), deep throating, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, dumbification 
a/n: this was originally just going to be about dragon hwa but then i started thinking about a pretty princess and a knight and i just –  also this is dedicated to my friend haru aka @stardragongalaxy as a late bday present also thank you for giving me creative (🏳️‍🌈) freedom with this fic hehe,, i hope you enjoy lovely <3 also i rewrote this thing a thousand times and i just don’t really know how i feel about it but i wanted to share it regardless so if you liked it please consider leaving some feedback <3 
song recs: all around me by flyleaf, crossing over by elysion, constance by spirit box, desert rose by lolo zouaï
Masterlist
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As the daughter of the most feared knight of the round table, and your king’s most trusted confidant, you were thrown into the complicated web of the royal family, forced to navigate their endless strings of high expectations and saccharine lies. Instead of a silver spoon, you got used to one that tasted of metal and rust. To make matters more difficult, you were born without the perks of being a man. Expected to be quiet and prone to sewing doilies in the comfort of your bedroom, you instead doubled down on learning to sword fight, deciding to follow in the footsteps of your father. You learned early on that you were handed certain cards in life, expected to never trade them in. But you wanted more. You knew in order to receive the respect of those around you, it was imperative that you rose up to the same rank as your late father after he passed.
And so, you became a protector of the royal family, ordered to watch over the king, as well as the eldest princess. She treated you like you were just another person, one without a collar around their neck, unlike her father who sought to treat you how he saw fit. With forceful words and orders just as intense. With sweet promises, gazes full of lust, and late night visits to his bedchamber, followed with shameful walks back to your own. You didn’t truly realize your place in the cogwheels of royalty until you were caught giving the princess a gentle cheek kiss. It was then that he would discipline you. Brand you. Forever remind you of your role as the royal family’s guard dog. 
Despite this fate, you wanted to prove that you could be more than a simple pet. You could be a lot more. You had something to offer. Something you could offer to the one that would receive it with a gentle smile and a heart full of warmth.
༻✧༺
Bending at the knee for the king, you didn’t stand until he ordered you to, resting your hand on the hilt of your sword, your heavy armor feeling a bit stifling from the intense stare he was giving you. 
“My eldest daughter Rosanna, as you know, has been missing and we’ve just gotten word that she’s been spotted at the abandoned castle near Crescent Falls.” Grimacing, Hongjoong closed his hands into tight fists, unable to handle that he was powerless, despite having the highest form of power any individual could possess. “But, she’s being held hostage by a filthy dragon,” he growled out of anger, his loud, impassioned voice echoing throughout the throne room. 
You stood still for a moment, a pivotal memory of the princess standing near her favorite patch of roses still fresh inside your mind.
“I’m going to be leaving tonight,” Rosanna said softly, twirling a rose she was holding and admiring the soft red hue, careful not to prick herself on the thorns. “My friend said he can take me away from here.” Wanting to be careful of her words out of fear that you wouldn’t understand, she continued vaguely, “He figured out a way to protect us.” 
“How?” you questioned softly, about to speak more when she shook her head, making your mouth close up.
“You know I trust you, but out of precaution, I can’t go into detail…” Rosanna gazed down at the family crest etched into the hilt of your sword. “You know why.”
You nodded your head, knowing she could see the invisible leash her father had around your neck, feeling shame burn into the skin of your cheeks. 
Fading back into her overjoyed headspace, she angled her head down and smiled to herself, the rose petals blurring into a mess of crimson, her eyes wet with tears. “No more forced marriage proposals. No more slaving away for my father. N-no more…father…” Her thumb grazed a thorn, but didn’t let it slice into her skin. “I’m going to be free from this prison…”  
Your body twitched at the sight of Rosanna’s bittersweet expression, wanting to hold her, but remaining still, knowing your place. “Is the friend…Is it Seonghwa? That apothecary apprentice you’re always talking about?” you whispered near her, glancing around your surroundings to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in. “Princess, are you sure you can trust h–”
“I’m sure.” She turned to you, pulling you further into the gazebo you were both under to completely conceal yourselves from any wandering eyes. “Y/N…” Her features softened, her eyelids lowering slightly so that she looked at you through her wispy lashes. “Won’t you come with us? We can both…” Her voice trailed off, a light blush forming on her cheeks, her fingers drifting over one of your gloved hands. “We can…be ourselves.”  
You were chained to the castle, to its king, to its people. If you were to abandon your post, you knew you would be putting yourself at great risk, but…there was something very familiar tugging at your heart.
“Y/N,” Rosanna whispered, now inches away from your conflicted face, giving you a soft smile. “Don’t you want to see where this goes?”
You slowly relaxed with her unspoken permission, squeezing her fingers ever so slightly when she entwined them with yours. “I…I do, but…” 
When you couldn’t form the proper words, Rosanna pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, rendering you speechless. The princess pulled away after a few seconds, rubbing her lipstick off of your face with her silk glove, her sad eyes meeting yours. “I know I’m asking a lot, but just think about it. I’m sure my father will want someone to come look for me, so I give you permission to find me.”
You nodded weakly, your cheeks feeling hot to the touch, standing eerily still like one of the marble statues that were littered throughout the garden. You were unable to react to the hug she gave you besides a small squeeze back, and only produced a small ‘goodbye, princess’ as she bid you farewell, leaving you to gaze at the sea of roses by yourself. 
Before she disappeared that night, she left the rose on your bed inside your sleeping quarters. You closed your eyes and pressed it to your cheek, picturing the warmth she left on your skin. 
“Y/N,” Hongjoong snapped, making you fade out of your bittersweet memory and ignore the tightness inside your chest. “You will come back to me with my daughter safe and sound.” 
Were you willing to betray the king? The one who had his tendrils wrapped tightly around you, barely allowing you to breathe? The one who would burn entire kingdoms down for his daughter? Was going against him worth the destruction he would leave behind?
“I…I will defeat the beast and rescue the princess, my Lord,” you said softly, bending at the waist the best you could to bow to him, unable to look him in the eyes. 
At that moment, Hongjoong got up from his throne and walked down the steps to stand at your level. With one finger underneath your chin, he tilted it upwards until you were forced to meet his fiery gaze. With the scent of ale on his breath, he leaned in close, pressing his lips against your earlobe, murmuring pointedly, “And if you don’t come back with my daughter...” Hongjoong grasped your jaw, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, studying your eyes for any deception. “Don’t bother crawling back to my bedchambers. You’ll be dead to me just like your poor father sitting in that cracked urn you keep in your room. Do you hear me, pet?” 
Swallowing harshly, keeping your emotions at bay, your hand slowly formed a fist over your heart, feeling the prying eyes of the King’s staff burning holes into the back of your head, afraid that they all knew about your secrets, about what you were planning to do next, about everything you were about to risk. “Understood, my Lord. I will return only with the princess by my side.” 
༻✧༺
Sitting on your knees in front of a nearby stream to take a drink and cool your body down, you went stiff upon hearing the sound of your horse nervously trotting back and forth over the forest foliage, causing you to instinctively grab the hilt of your blade. You looked around the general vicinity, trying to spot any movement around the bushes and trees that surrounded you, unsure of who or what was watching you. 
“What is a knight doing so far away from home?” a deep, sultry voice came out from behind you, causing you to spin around, almost dumbfounded that you couldn’t hear him sneaking up on you, despite your careful hearing. You saw a man standing before you, one that had a dark hood on, only allowing you to see the point of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, and his smirking lips. 
“I’m…here with the orders of the king,” you responded carefully, your fingers squeezing around your cold blade handle, but not pulling it out just yet. “The princess is being held hostage by a beast inside the castle many miles from here. I’m here to save her.” 
The man took a small step forward, his smirk growing ever so slightly, tapping his fingers against the small black crystal hanging from his neck by a silver chain. “A beast, you say? Do you think it has piercing eyes that’ll petrify you?” He took another small step. “Or how about large, ghastly talons that’ll tear you to pieces?” He took one more step, just a few feet away from you now, his smirk turning into a grin, his canine teeth a lot sharper than you cared to admit to yourself. “Do you think he’ll try to swallow you whole? Or will he play with you instead? What do you think, knight?” When he tried to take another step, he stopped in his tracks, the razor-sharp tip of your blade pressing into his chest and drawing a bit of blood. 
Your eyes narrowed at the stranger, standing your ground, having a very good idea of who he was, but choosing not to voice it. He didn’t have a weapon on hand. Taking him out while he was in a vulnerable state would be going against your code. “Everything I have. Everything I am. I will give.” 
“So the King really does have you on a tight leash. What a loyal little puppy you are,” he replied disdainfully, leaning back slightly to relieve the pressure of the blade cutting into his skin. “Or are you doing this for the princess?” Seeing your eyes widen slightly, he chuckled softly. “Oh, I see. Will you free her from the tower and share a true love’s kiss?” 
“Do not mock me, stranger,” you growled back, ignoring his question, the tips of your fingers turning white from how tightly you were holding your weapon. “You don’t know my motivations or my story, so kindly fuck off.”
“Got a bit of a temper there.” The man fiddled with his necklace some more, still grinning, finding delight in your reaction. Figuring he was done testing you, he bowed his head to you, his raven hair falling into his eyes. “I wish you the best of luck.” He angled his head up, giving you an intense stare, his forked tongue just barely slipping out of his mouth to lick at his lips. “Let’s see if the pretty little knight slays the dragon before he slays her.” 
༻✧༺
You arrived at the abandoned castle by sundown, having to use an old torch to light your path through the dark, empty hallways and rooms, searching for any sign of life. Opening the next pair of doors you saw, you ended up in the library. You froze, your gloved hand still resting on the metal handle, suddenly caught off guard by the woman sitting inside on an old velvet couch with a candle and an open book in her hand. 
“Princess Rosanna…?” you called out, making her jump and turn her head to the familiar voice she wasn’t expecting to hear so soon. Upon seeing your distinct features, the princess ran up to you once you stepped foot into the room, the cold metal of your armor and chainmail causing her to let out small noises of protest. “Princess, I’m so happy to see you alive and well.” 
“You came for me,” she said as though it were a revelation, slowly pulling away to get a good look at you, licking her thumb and wiping a bit of soot away from your cheek. “I’ve missed you greatly…” 
“Likewise, Princess. You’ve been in my thoughts all this time. Night and day…” You stood still, looking into her gentle eyes, her thumb still pressed to your warm cheek, feeling it slowly drag downwards to your lips, her thumb moving across your bottom one. “Do I…have something on my face…?” you whispered, not even noticing when your fingers clutched her lower back. 
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured back, clutching your chin, bringing it towards hers. “Should I get it for you?” 
It took everything in you not to lose yourself in this reality you’ve created for yourselves, as much as you wanted to. It was simple, really. You were a knight under the command of the king, and she was the princess, and if Hongjoong got his way, was destined to court with a prince that was up to her standards. Regardless of the situation, she was still pure gold — untouchable and timeless. You, however, were plain ivory, doomed to crack and crumble to pieces when the time came. Would she be satisfied? 
You pressed your forehead to hers, closing your tired eyes, your heart still pounding away inside your tightening chest. “We…we shouldn’t…”
“Why shouldn’t we?” she questioned as fiercely as she could, caressing both of your cheeks, her thumbs gently rubbing along your jaw, encouraging you to open your eyes back up to look into her twinkling ones. “My father isn’t here. We’re miles and miles away from the castle. Who’s going to know?” 
Despite the incredible complications present in the game of chess you were a part of, you felt your once idle piece beginning to move forward across the board. 
“Princess…” you whispered back, your eyelids lowering slightly, closing your grasp around her waist, bringing her against you. Ignoring your dizzying heartbeat, you lowered your gaze to her parted lips, ready to risk everything for the woman looking back at you like you were her…well, her knight in shining armor. “May I…?” 
“You may…” she returned, waiting for you to close the space in between the two of you, your lips meeting in the middle. Instead of fireworks, you both felt like you had been submerged into a warm pool of honey, slowly enveloping your bodies in its comfort, eventually drowning you in its adherent serenity. 
As one desperate, though purposeful kiss led to another, the princess slowly led you backwards to the couch, sitting you down and lowering herself down onto your lap, her lips still connected to yours. The heavy sensation of arousal buzzing throughout your mind and body clouded your thought process. All you could think about were her plush lips moving against yours like you were her only source of oxygen, her warm hands moving down your jaw and up the back of your neck to slip into your tangled hair. 
Rosanna broke the kiss for a moment to whisper breathlessly, “Touch me, Y/N. You have my permission.” 
Your head was spinning, but you sought to keep it screwed on tight, removing your gloves to touch her body directly, though delicately, slowly moving your hands up to her waist, being drawn in towards her neck, leaving gentle kisses along the warm expanse of her skin. “Princess, your skin is so hot…Are you feeling unwell?” you murmured onto her, hearing her breath hitch from your teasing words. 
“Quite unwell…” Rosanna sighed softly, playing along, pulling at the strings near her chest, loosening up her dress so that it began to slip off her shoulders. “Take care of me, knight.” 
Greatly encouraged by her demand, you reached out to grip her shoulders, sliding her dress down little by little, gazing at her lovely, exquisitely soft body, the one you could only picture inside your head during the late hours of the night year after year. And now she was right here in front of you. You must’ve fallen asleep at the pond and been caught inside a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
Rosanna caressed your heated face, watching you with a loving gaze, letting you take your time, despite wanting to rip her clothes off along with every single piece of your armor. Slowly, but surely, you were brought out of your cloudy headspace when you noticed a deep bite mark imprinted in her skin just above one of her barely-covered breasts  — one that was fresh and bruising. “Did…Did Seonghwa do this?” 
She brushed a few loose strands of hair out of your flushed face and pushed them behind your pierced ear, nodding her head knowingly. “Yes, but–”
“Princess,” you interrupted Rosanna, gently taking her wrist and giving it a small kiss, motioning to the door with a soft smile. You believed in your heart that you could take better care of her than any man could, especially one that just did as he pleased. “Let me take you away from here. We can–”
“No!” the princess cried, overwhelmed by the thought of leaving, feeling your hand loosen around her arm, allowing her to pull away from you and stand up. She pulled her dress back up and began tying it up diligently, glancing down at it instead of your concerned eyes. “I don’t want to leave, Y/N. I’m happy here.” 
“Happy?” you questioned, your voice losing its volume towards the end. “You’re happy staying here in a crumbling castle alone with a shapeshifter? I know he’s your friend, but are you not afraid of what he could do to you? After he’s already done this to you?” You motioned to where the deeply embedded bite mark was located underneath her thin clothing, grimacing. 
Rosanna held her hands up to her head and gripped her braided hair, turning around to gather herself, appearing to be incredibly frustrated. “He’s more than that to me…” 
Choosing not to face the possibilities of her words, you stood up to your feet, taking a step towards her in order to turn her around, taking her hand to hold it. “Princess, you know I just have your best interest at heart.” 
Rosanna squeezed your fingers tightly, desperately wanting you to see her side. “Y/N, he’s not what you think! He’s actually incredibly sweet and takes care of me.” She looked down and smiled to herself, her eyes lighting up underneath her long, wispy eyelashes. “He loves me.”
“He does?” you mumbled, your eyebrows joining together in confusion, jealousy pricking into your heart like a thorn. 
“Yes, and he can take care of you too, Y/N. He has more than enough love to give.” 
“H-huh…?” You didn’t understand the context of her words, but it made your throat go dry. 
She grasped your chin with her manicured fingers and leaned closer, suggesting, “Why don’t you stay here? You can spend some time with him and maybe you’ll end up falling for him like I–”
A loud, ear-piercing roar rumbled throughout the castle, making you jolt, your hand settling on your sword, until another screech replaced the silence after the first, this one so powerful that it made the large bookshelves nearby tremble and shed century-old dust into the air around you. 
As if she was used to this happening, Rosanna walked over to the door to lock it, sending a glare your way when you stepped in front of the door, your back against it. “What are you doing?” she questioned sharply, pushing on your chest to move you, but not being able to. “You can’t bother him when he shifts, Y/N. He doesn’t have much control over it and he’ll…” 
You gave Rosanna a stern look, putting a hand on her shoulder, proclaiming, “I’ll protect you, Princess. Don’t worry.” And with that, you turned around and ran out of the room, unable to register the many protests behind you, heading towards the sound of yet another roar, everyone’s words echoing throughout the labyrinth of your mind. Your father’s, the king’s, the princess’, Seonghwa’s, your own. You didn't know what you were doing, but you were going to follow through. The rattling inside your chest told you to. 
༻✧༺
You followed the sounds of growling and deep bellows, the carpeted floor below you trembling every now and then, the old frames on the walls ready to fall off of their hinges, figuring that the beast must’ve been enormous for it to affect the castle. Eventually making your way to two heavy, opulent doors, you pushed past them and entered the vast empty garden area filled with dirt and crumbled stone just in time for you to come face to face with the dragon. 
It was just as big as you imagined, taking up a sizable portion of the outside area despite it being spacious enough to hold at least a quarter of the kingdom that used to reside there centuries ago. The dragon’s scales were pitch black like the night sky, but shimmered with a holographic sheen under the light of the moon that shone down from above. Its tail had to be at least ten feet long, as thick and long as one of the countless oak trees sitting inside the forest nearby, its movement reminiscent of a snake slinking around in the grass. You noticed its talons next. They could probably tear you to ribbons if he caught you in his grasp. Lastly, you were drawn to its eyes, large and piercing, striking you with instinctive fear, reminding you that you were prey. Though you wanted to continue studying its immense presence, the dragon seemed to notice you standing there challenging it with your sudden intrusion. 
“You’ve finally arrived, little human,” the creature bellowed in the deepest voice you ever heard, his words coming out serpent-like and seductive. He opened his mouth, baring his elongated, oversized fangs, his hot breath hitting the cold air. “Come here and show me what you got.” 
Pissed off by his arrogance, you unsheathed your sword and began heading in its direction, circling the dragon carefully when it began doing the same thing, a low chuckle erupting from its large throat. 
“What makes you think you can defeat me?” Seonghwa questioned, slamming one of his large claws down onto the ground near you, making the ground shake. “I could swallow you up in a second or turn you into nothing but ash and bone. Why are you doing this?” 
“To prove a point, goddamn it!” you growled back, swinging your sword at the dragon and slicing into his large black leg, watching as blood began to drip out from the wound. Seonghwa didn’t like that very much. Emitting a harsh exhale, you barrel-rolled out of the way of his large claws when he attempted to stomp on you, having to run in the opposite direction, the dragon hot on your tail. 
“And what point is that, you little pest?” Seonghwa growled, swiping at you, but missing due to your fast reflexes, your sword already making contact with the center of his palm, making him groan out in pain. 
“That I’m much more suited to take care of Rosanna,” you grunted, ducking out of the way of its other large claw, unable to take a breath before his tail swung in your direction, forcing you to jump over it before it made contact with your body. You forced out a laugh that sounded just as arrogant as you wanted it to, giving the dragon a crooked smile. “You seem to be struggling to take out a ‘pest’ like me, so I think I came at the right time. She needs someone like me. Not an egotistical beast like you.” 
A large amount of smoke suddenly began emitting from the dragon’s nostrils, a strange glowing light slowly becoming visible from the center of its stomach. “Now you’ve done it, knight. No more playtime.” 
You backed up a bit, observing your surroundings for the best escape before it was too late. Seeing a large crumbling staircase behind you, you turned around to head up the steps, a few strands of your hair starting to float up into the air as though there was an electrical charge in the air. “Oh shit!” you exclaimed to yourself, as a large zap of lightning with a purple hue hit the steps in front of you, turning them to dust. 
“Run away, little puppy. Let’s see how far you make it,” Seonghwa challenged in a guttural manner, watching as you continued your way up the stairs and headed down the opposite side of it. He lifted himself up into the air with his expansive wings and sent another burst of lightning in your direction, finding it amusing how the old concrete wall he hit far above you started falling around you in large chunks, causing you to leap out of the way of them and tumble down the rest of the stairs. 
“Fuck…” you whispered to yourself, feeling a bit dizzy, but forcing yourself to get up and grab your sword, before starting to run away as fast as you could, the large flaps of the dragon’s wings behind you sending fear into your thumping heart. Before you knew it, you were back inside the forest you had navigated earlier, the vines and foliage crunching underneath your worn down boots. A few trees near you suddenly erupted into flames once the violet lightning struck them, slowly falling in your direction, the roots preventing them from dropping completely. 
“Poor puppy isn’t fast enough,” Seonghwa commented gruffly, inhaling, little sparks of lightning exiting his mouth, before a large amount of it shot out past his fangs, heading quickly in your direction. 
Glancing back out of the corner of your eyes, you ducked underneath the trees and continued running, diving into a nearby river at the last second when the zaps of electricity touched your back through your chainmail, feeling it shoot up your spine. Cringing from the pain, you forced yourself to stay underneath the dark surface of the water, despite it being freezing enough to shock your body, your limbs starting to grow numb with each passing moment. 
Seonghwa landed back onto the ground with a thud so that he could stalk around the river in a calculated manner, keeping his head low to gaze down into the water, watching carefully for movement. “Come out and face me, knight,” he commanded fiercely, annoyance laced into his words. “So that you may submit to me.”  
Unable to hold your breath any longer, you forced yourself out of the water and grabbed onto the dragon, holding one of his large twisted horns as he lifted you up into the air. “Submit…to me, beast!” Using the adrenaline in your system to your advantage, you grunted and swung your sword upwards, slicing off a portion of his other horn, hearing him growl deeply in response. Just as you had made your decision to attack him, Seonghwa had sent one of his claws up in your direction, slicing your forearm and chainmail up the middle, then cutting into the side of your jaw and up to your cheek in a one clean swipe. 
Watching you wince and shut your eyes from the pain, Seonghwa feigned concern, “Oh, poor little puppy has a cut. Will you crawl into a corner and lick at your wounds?” 
The sweat from your hand caused you to let go of his horn, eventually falling back down into the freezing water below, your blood leaking out into the murkiness around you. “Fight me as yourself, Seonghwa!” you called out once you got your head above the surface, coughing and sputtering to get the water out of your lungs, ignoring the pain pulsing from your wounds. “Don’t be such a fucking coward!” 
Angered by your words, Seonghwa pressed one talon into the small black jewel that was lodged into his large chest, causing a misty puff of smoke to appear around him. 
Too busy swimming to the edge of the river, you didn’t notice Seonghwa’s disappearance as you climbed out of the water, your chainmail falling off of your body, exposing your thin top underneath. You stood up and stumbled a bit, feeling your armor start to grow loose on your body from how soaked you were, opting to just rip them off out of frustration with your current state, gazing down at the droplets of blood hitting the ground below. Suddenly sensing a different presence, you turned around just in time for a naked Seonghwa to send a punch in your direction, hitting you square in the jaw where you were bleeding from, sending you back into a nearby tree. “Augh…” you groaned, glaring at Seonghwa through your hazy eyesight, able to catch his next fist with your hand now that you were ready for him. 
“Just give up and submit to me already,” Seonghwa spat, grabbing you by the collar of your top and getting up in your personal space, growling into your face. “Get on your knees and admit I’m better.” 
Now that Seonghwa was this close, you couldn’t look away from him. He was annoyingly handsome, despite looking disheveled as all hell. Pretty black hair, a few locks of it falling into his face. High, pointed cheekbones. Plush lips. Definitely kissable. What were you even thinking? It must’ve been the blood loss that had you acting like this. 
“Did you hear me, knight?” Seonghwa leaned in closer, staring you down with an intensity that frightened you, amongst other things.
“Uh-huh…” You couldn’t really think. You were too distracted by his eyes. They were as blue as the ocean you’ve only seen in pictures. Entrancing, like the waves had crashed into you and swept you under, pinning you in between currents. 
“On your knees!” He slammed his hand against the oak beside your head, bringing you out of your headspace. He waited for you to finally give up, but grew unceremoniously stunned when you answered him by sending the blood that had pooled inside your mouth straight into his face. 
“You get on your knees and suck my proverbial cock, dragon shifter,” you returned aggressively, sending your fist up into his chin, causing him to bite onto his tongue and stumble backwards, almost tripping on his own tail. You pursued him, temporarily distracted by the man’s actual cock swinging in between his thighs. It was big. Way bigger than what you were used to seeing amongst the knight’s guild. Well, he was a beast after all. This distraction proved to be too powerful, allowing Seonghwa to sweep his tail underneath your feet, sending you down onto the rough ground in order to pin you underneath him. 
“I didn’t think you had all of that in you,” Seonghwa huffed out, his heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through him, his pupils resembling marbles. 
“Yeah, well, I did…” you mumbled, trying to breathe properly with his weight pushing down onto you, your own heart threatening to beat out of your chest. 
Blood dripped out of his open mouth and landed on your face and neck, dribbling down the center of your chest, your soaked top glued to your skin. “Y/N…”
Thrown off by the use of your name, you tried to pull your wrists away from his tight grip, gently biting into your cut lip. “Wh-what?” 
“I can smell your arousal…” he admitted under his breath, leaning his face down closer to yours, happily devouring the sight of your uncharacteristically flustered expression. “Why are you wet, knight?” 
“Because I fell into a fucking river!” you snapped, trying to ignore the heat emanating from your face and the pulsing from in between your legs. Seonghwa moved one of his knees into between your legs so that you couldn’t close them, pressing it up into your mound and causing some friction, leaving you breathless. 
“Don’t deny it, pup. We’re both adults, after all. You can admit that you want me. It’s okay.” Seonghwa pressed his lips onto your jaw, licking at the congealed blood that was left there, making you shiver. 
“It’s just the adrenaline rush, okay? That’s the only reason I want this…” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to admit to yourself that you’ve wanted Seonghwa since you came across him at the pond earlier that morning. And you definitely didn’t want to admit that you needed him after seeing what he was capable of doing. Needed him to treat you like a little play thing that he could simply swallow up. Perhaps you were a hypocrite for questioning Rosanna earlier. 
“Take your trousers off. Panties too. I want to see how soaked you are for me,” he commanded gruffly, letting go of your wrists and sitting up, his tail slowly moving around in a snake-like motion around him, the ribbed tip of it flicking at one of your ankles. Seonghwa was looking down at you like you were his next meal. His next target to claim. To mark. You were going to be his just like Rosanna. 
You sat up and pressed your back against the rough bark of the tree behind you, forcing your shame down into your throat and pulling your wet trousers off, tossing them onto the grass next to you. You swallowed harshly, hooking your fingers into the straps of your see-through panties, blushing deeply at the sight of the man in front of you. He was drooling, for starters. Breathing hard and heavy like he had just got done running. Burning holes into your skin with the intensity of his gaze, waiting to see you bare for him. You wondered just how much shifting into the headspace of a beast affected his normal thought process. Would he fuck you like a beast too? 
“You look like you’re about to eat me,” you commented, pouting a bit.
“Not yet, puppy,” he replied in a low, calculated tone, his eyelids lowering slightly, the look in his eyes sending a jolt of fear down your spine. “I’ll save that for later.” 
You saw a flash of black when you blinked. “Oh–” you barely got out, not even able to respond to his words, looking down at your bare cunt glistening with your slick, your panties split down the middle and falling into a pile on the grass. “Really?” 
“You were taking too long.” Seonghwa moved closer to you so that he could get a good look at you. “Mm, you're a soaking wet mess just like I thought.” The tip of his tail slithered up and over your mound, making you gasp, eventually moving up and underneath your tank top, ripping it off of you. 
“Does this thing have a mind of its own?” you asked with concern, watching as his tail wiggled in between your tits, fighting the urge to give into him completely, wanting him to continue leading you. 
“No, this is all intentional, my love.” Noticing your gaze trailing his tail and the way it coiled around one of your tits, he licked at his lips, moving it up towards your mouth. “Get it wet for me.” 
“G-get it wet?” you squeaked, your heart skipping a beat at his choice of words from before, not appreciating how soft it made you feel. “For what?” 
Seonghwa shook his head slightly, blowing a bit of air out of his nose, amused by your reaction. He adored watching you submit to him little by little. He couldn’t wait to see what you looked and acted like when you were like putty in his claws. “So that I can fuck you properly,” he replied calmly, reaching out to grab your jaw, coaxing it open. “Don’t you want to be filled, knight? I can guarantee you’ll feel pleasure you didn’t even know existed.” 
How did you get here? You were there to save Rosanna and be by her side and what were you doing? About to let her dragon shifter lover enter you with his tail? Now why on earth would you–
༻✧༺
“Just like that, pup. Just like that,” Seonghwa praised in between pants, watching as his tail slipped in and out of your open mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat with each sloppy thrust, knowing he could stop at any second but not wanting to. His cock was too hard. Twitching. Shiny and red, and drooling just like he was. He was completely unable to take his eyes off of your watery ones and the way your throat contracted every time you choked on him. “You’re–fuck–doing so well. I…promise I’ll reward you. Don’t worry.” 
You blinked your tears away, doing your best to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, trying to make sense of what was going on. Trying to understand why this was the most pleasurable moment of your life. Realizing that his tail must’ve been some kind of erogenous zone. Wondering what it’d feel like to get stretched out by it. Tempted to demand for him to fuck you with it. If only you could use your voice. 
Sensing your desperation, Seonghwa slid his wet appendage out of your throat, letting it slide down your body, leaving a trail of spit behind. “You look like you want to say something, my sweet,” he mused, reaching towards your glistening chin to wipe some of the spit away. 
“Inside…” you mumbled under your breath. “I want it inside.” 
Seonghwa smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Want what?” 
“Your…tail…” Your cheeks burned incessantly, making sure to swallow down the saliva that persistently filled your mouth. “I want it inside, Seonghwa. Give it to me.” 
Taking in your delightfully submissive gaze, Seonghwa brought your chin in his direction and pressed a kiss beside your swollen lips. “Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” 
“Give it to me before I chop it off and see if it regrows,” you returned snidely, feeling his grip tighten around your chin, his smirk growing wider. 
With his thick tail coiled once around one of your thighs, Seonghwa used the tip of it to thrust steadily into your squelching hole, not completely sure how long he had been going at it for. It felt too good to think. “You haven’t felt pleasure like this for ages, have you, knight? You’re so wet…like it’s the first time you’ve been fucked by something other than your fingers,” he sighed out, running his own fingers up to your hips and holding them, feeling them jolt routinely against his touch. 
“I’ve never…felt this before…” you replied in between breathless moans, trying to hold onto his shoulders for support, your hands starting to slip off of them from the sweat that had been coating the both of your heated bodies. “It shouldn’t feel this good…” 
Seonghwa leaned in closer to lick at the cut on your lax jaw, tasting the remnants of blood, studying your feverish expression, figuring you were getting close again. “Just wait till you have my cock inside you instead.” 
You squeezed around his tail again, making him groan, grabbing at his horns instead to keep from falling backwards, feeling the jagged edge of the one you sliced off earlier with your calloused fingers. “Seonghwa...shit…I don’t know if I can…nnngh…” You were already making such a mess on the dragon hybrid’s lap, your clear arousal spilt all over your joined thighs and lower abdomens, some even coating his already dripping cock. 
“Shh, my love. You can let go now…Just let go and feel…” Seonghwa whispered into your ear with such gentleness it sent you over the edge once again, launching you into an endless abyss of pleasure, one that you weren’t even sure if you could crawl your way out of. What happened to your mission? Where was Rosanna? What would she think if she found you like this, being fucked beyond comprehension by the very individual that you swore to protect her from? 
“Seonghwa, please, I can’t,” you begged near the man’s ear, your vision starting to fade in and out, your thighs shaking uncontrollably, unable to believe that his tail was still pistoning in and out of your tightening hole at a rapid speed. 
“You can and you will,” he suddenly demanded raspily, burying his face into your neck and sinking his teeth into it, marking you just like he wanted to.
You came again, this time so hard, your ears began to ring and your vision faded out completely, passing out from exhaustion and not being able to witness Seonghwa cumming himself with a growl, not even having to touch his dick to do so.  
༻✧༺
Rosanna stood in her bedroom with her arms folded across her chest, observing her lover holding you in his arms and gingerly walking up to her. You were sleeping soundly, your naked body limp, covered in bruises and cuts. “What did you do to her, Hwa?” 
“We fought. She wanted to prove herself. She got me good too.” He walked up to their shared bed and laid your body down, pointing up to his sliced horn, not able to see the bruises left on his face. 
Rosanna reached up to it, concern etched into her face, then looked down at you, running her fingers near the deepest cut on your arm. “You took things too far, Hwa. You were supposed to convince her to stay, not this.” 
“She’s not as fragile as you think she is, my love…but, yes, you’re right. I’m trying to control myself in that state. It’s proving to be a bit more difficult.” Seonghwa turned around and walked to the other side of the room, gathering up a few jars of herbs and potions so that they could heal your wounds. 
“How does it make you feel?” Rosanna asked, taking some of the jars from Seonghwa and opening a few of them, in order to prepare a mixture. 
“The thoughts are taking a longer time to leave my head when I return to my normal state.” He handed Rosanna a mortar bowl and watched as she began crushing up the mixture inside. 
“What kind of thoughts are you having?” 
“Earlier, in the forest…I wanted…” he started, his blue eyes trailing your naked body, watching as your chest rose and fell, studying your closed legs, wanting to be in between them. “I wanted to breed Y/N. Until she couldn’t move. It was such a visceral feeling too, but I…I held myself back for the most part.” 
“You’re waiting for my permission, hm?” Rosanna asked, turning the herbs into a fine paste underneath the pestle she was using. She chuckled at Seonghwa’s obedient nod, reaching over with her free hand to stroke his hair. “You can breed her, darling. Whatever you want, as long as she wants it too, you can give it to her.” 
Seonghwa wiped his mouth to prevent any drool from falling from it, watching as Rosanna began placing the paste onto your wounds with a soft hum. “Do you think she’ll stay if we show her how much we want her?” 
“I would like to think so.” Hopeful, Rosanna sat down on the edge of the bed and began petting your hair. She rested her hand on your cheek, smiling softly as you turned your head towards her palm, but didn’t wake up. “Though it has to be her decision.” 
༻✧༺
You woke up to the feeling of a warm washcloth gliding across your abdomen, as well as two fingers running over the scar tissue of your brand, the trickles of water making you shiver. “Mm…” Once you opened your eyes, you blinked a few times to get used to the golden light pouring inside the room through the open window, eventually focusing on Rosanna, who sat in a chair beside the clawfoot tub you were laying in. “Princess…”
“Y/N….I know my father…he…” she started in a weak voice, gently tracing the insignia that was etched into your skin. “He’s a monster for doing this to you. I wish I could’ve done something to protect you. I…should’ve been by your side. I just didn’t know if he had control over you…if you were close to him like your father was. That’s why I kept to myself for so long, but that was…so selfish of me.” She closed her eyes, a tear falling from them once she looked at you, clearly struck by grief. “I’m so sorry…” 
Hesitating only for a moment, you lifted your hand out of the heated water and caressed her cheek, rubbing her tears away with your thumb. “Don’t be sorry. You did what you had to for your own protection.” When Rosanna placed her hand over yours and leaned down further, you gave her a soft smile. “We’re two sides of the same coin, love. We both wanted to protect and take care of each other, but there was always something caught in the way.” 
“And now…?” she whispered, dropping the washcloth in favor of holding your face, watching as you sat up. 
Sighing softly, you pressed your forehead to hers. “Now, there’s nothing left to stop us. I see that now.” 
She sighed as well, exhaling out all the worries, rage, grief, and despair she had felt for so long, instead drawing in everything that you were when she pressed her lips to yours. You kissed her back, sharing a gentle exchange of love and warmth, until it grew more desperate, more passionate, wishing it could somehow allow you to convey the myriad of things you felt inside that you simply couldn’t verbalize. 
Breaking the kiss, Rosanna slipped out of her silk robe and climbed into the tub onto your lap, pressing kiss after kiss whenever she could, focusing on your neck once she heard the small breathless sounds you couldn’t help but let out. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Hmm?” 
“Feels good…”
“Yeah? Do you want more?” 
Smiling at your quick nod, her hand slid down in between your wet bodies, groping gently at your breasts, before slipping one, then two fingers inside you, chuckling softly at your surprised gasp. 
“Princess,” you moaned, heat consuming your body and soul, tossing your head back just as she began to pump them in and out of you, her thumb pushing into your clit every time she filled you. 
“What is it, love?” 
Swallowing saliva down your throat, you gripped her thigh, pleading with your eyes. “Let me fill you too.”
Rosanna nodded her head at your request, emitting a choked gasp as you pushed two digits into her entrance as well and tried to match her thrusts, the both of you eagerly trying to bring one another to the same peak of pleasure. “That’s it, Y/N. Just like that…” 
You leaned forward to bring Rosanna into an open-mouthed kiss, thumbing her clit with your other hand with as much quickness and pressure as she was offering you, moaning and gasping into her mouth, your bodies beginning to shake and tremble against one another’s. “Princess, oh my gods, please come for me…” 
“I’m cumming, Y/N,” she cried out, resting his head in the crook of your neck, her cunt spasming around your fingers, until they were slick with her release. Rossana felt how tight you became around her own fingers, squeezing and rubbing your clit until you let out a silent cry and squeezed her shoulders for comfort.
Trying to catch your breath, you gazed at her until the bathroom door opened behind the both of you. “Rosanna…I…”
“Seems like you two are getting along,” Seonghwa interrupted cheekily, striding across the cracked tile floor and reaching down to pet both of your heads, his fingers slipping through your hair. “This is a lovely turn of events.” 
Rosanna nuzzled Seonghwa’s hand, smiling to herself. “My love, won’t you take us to bed?” 
“T-to bed…” you murmured to yourself, your cheeks hotter than the surface of the sun upon thinking about what had occurred the night before. 
Seonghwa gave Rosanna’s forehead a kiss, before turning to you, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up over his shoulder, finding the squeaks you let out to be insanely adorable. Turning around the walk out of the bathroom with Rosanna at his side, he licked his lips, already drooling. “Let’s go, pup. I think it’s about time I eat you.” 
“E-eat me?” you gasped, trying to bring your head up to look at Rosanna with pleading eyes, blushing even harder when she smacked your bare ass and chomped her teeth down in a teasing manner. 
༻✧༺
“What’s wrong, pup?” Seonghwa asked huskily in between long, drawn-out licks to your reddened, puffy folds, his long tongue reaching from your clit to your tighter entrance each time, admiring the distant, glazed-over look in your dilated eyes. “Aww, already fucked dumb and I haven’t even bred you yet, hm? Tell me how good it feels.” 
“It feels so good, Seonghwa,” you slurred out, unable to react to the feverish expression etched into the dragon shifter's face besides biting into your bottom lip, idly grasping at the princess' wrist for support.
“I bet it does. Hwa’s really good with his tongue,” Rosanna commented cheekily, suddenly blocking Seonghwa’s view of your face when she placed both of her knees on the opposite sides of your head, craning her head back to give him a perverse smile, much to his enjoyment. She pulled back slightly to gaze down at you, carding her fingers through your sweaty hair. “Want to show me what you’re capable of, my love?”
Dumbfounded, you stared up in between the princess’s thighs, swearing you were witnessing heaven itself. “I…wow…Yes, princess, please let me show you,” you answered her, having to swallow saliva down before you choked on it. 
Chuckling softly from how endearing you were, she positioned her cunt down onto your mouth before you could say anything else, your eyes rolling back slightly as soon as you tasted her sweet warmth on your tongue. “Mmmn…” You instinctively wrapped your arms around her thighs, lapping at her folds up to her clit like an obedient pet, encouraging the princess to stroke your hair lovingly and rub herself on your open mouth out of pure desperation. “Yeah, just like that, pretty girl. Keep it up.” Fueled by Rosanna’s praise, you let go of one of her thighs to play with her clit, your moans sending pleasurable vibrations through her, unable to register the rest of her breathless praise from how distracting Seonghwa’s tongue was due to the way he kept shoving it in and out of your pulsing hole. 
Seonghwa spread your lips apart with two fingers in a V formation, using his thumb from his other hand to rub and swipe at your swollen clit, not giving you a chance to instinctively buck your hips away from him, using his tail to wrap around you and hold you down. “Uh-uh-uh,” he teased in a muffled voice, pushing his slick appendage so far inside you, your vision started to fade out. You kept licking and licking, flicking and flicking your tongue up the princess’ throbbing pussy, opting to shove your tongue into her hole just like Seonghwa kept doing to you, losing yourself completely in the white hot pleasure that was pulsing through your entire body. There was no knight. No princess. No dragon. Just endless love. It was only when a hot gush of liquid spilled out into your mouth and went down your throat that you came to, squeezing and kneading Rosanna’s trembling thighs with your weak hands, drinking it down until there was no more. 
Panting heavily, Rosanna climbed off of you and encouraged you to sit up, leaning her flushed face towards yours, dragging her tongue up past your bottom lip and into your mouth, tilting her head to bring you into a deep kiss, lowering one of her hands down to squish and pull at one of your tits. She opened her eyes up slightly to gaze into your barely open ones, her tongue coiling around yours, swapping spit and warm arousal with one another. 
Once Seonghwa slurped your abundant arousal up into his mouth and licked his lips clean, he sat up as well, before standing up on the mattress in front of the both of you, idly grabbing your other tit, rubbing your nipple around with his thumb. “Do you like being filthy with your lovely princess, Y/N?” he questioned you in a gravelly voice, gripping the back of your head, as well as Rosanna’s as soon as you made a muffled sound of approval, alternating the position of your heads, deepening the kiss between the two of you, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. As soon as spit began to drip down your chins, Seonghwa emitted a low growl from the back of his throat, slowly slipping his cockhead in between your open mouths, groaning as you both began sucking on opposite sides, your tongues and lips working in tandem to slurp on his twitching length. 
Knowing Seonghwa had been waiting for his chance to mate you, Rosanna slowly pulled away, wrapping her fingers around his cock and guiding it to your mouth, watching as you gingerly allowed it inside, the corners of your lips stinging from his size. “That’s a good girl, Y/N. You can take it all, right?”
You nodded your head quickly, sitting up on your knees to suck him off properly, holding onto his hips for support, trying not to gag when Seonghwa suddenly bucked his hips forward, forcing his cock down your throat, stretching it out. 
“Mmmm, look at the pretty little knight with the dragon’s cock stuffed inside her pretty little throat. Isn’t it a beautiful sight, my love?” Once Rosanna nodded in approval and moved some of your hair out of your face, Seonghwa zoned in on you with glowing eyes, hunger visible on his arousal-stained face, the tip of his forked tongue swiping at one of his elongated fangs as he began to fuck your throat, thrusting steadily and enjoying all the gurgled noises you made. “Yeah, that's right. Get it nice and wet for me so I can breed that pretty pussy of yours, pup.” 
You kept your mouth open as wide as possible for as long as you could, almost feeling lightheaded from the way his hot, heavy length kept pushing past your throat, gasping as soon as he pulled out and used your spit to slick up his cock, along with the abundant pre-cum that dripped from it. Seonghwa was breathing too heavily to speak his mind so you looked to Rosanna for guidance. 
She kissed your cheek and hugged you lightly, rubbing your lower back in small circles. “Are you ready to take him, Y/N? He’s been waiting to become one with you, but only if you’re ready for it.” 
You looked back at Rosanna, smiling softly, your body and heart full of warmth for her. Once you pressed a kiss onto her cheek as well, gingerly lacing your fingers with hers. “I’m ready.” Rosanna nuzzled you with her cheek, before looking up at Seonghwa, reaching up to pat his hip, causing him to spring into action. 
In a head-down, ass-up position on the stiff mattress, you made sure to keep your eyes on the large, throne-like chair that was positioned at the foot of the bed, zoned in on the princess’s sweaty, shuddering body laid back against the seat, her fingers pushed deep inside her. “Oh, Princess…” you sighed out, overcome by the sight of her, but also taken by Seonghwa’s heavy body pressing down into your back, his cock ramming you forward with each powerful thrust. She gave you a lustful look back, breathing heavily and emitting soft moans of pleasure, pleased with the sight of her dutiful knight being fucked to hell and back by her precious dragon shifter. 
Seonghwa chuckled darkly into your ear, hardly out of breath, despite how hard he was ramming into you. “Do you like the way Rosanna is looking at you? At us?”
“Yes,” you admitted shakily, a few beads of sweat dripping down along your neck and lower back, making you shiver, your throat hurting from how dry it was after breathing and moaning so heavily. “It feels so good…having her watching me…” 
His tongue slithered out to lap up the sweat that dripped down your neck before it trickled onto the bed, eyeing the fading mark on your neck and sinking his teeth into it to make a fresh one, pleased with the strained moan that reverberated out of your throat. Seonghwa picked up the pace, his claws closing around your hips, hunching over and fucking into you like a ravenous animal, asking into your ear, “Tell me, do you want my kin inside you, Y/N? Do you want me to breed you like a proper mate?”
Locked into a delirious state of pleasure, barely able to focus on Rosanna’s increasingly blurry body jolting and sinking down into the chair as she met her climax, you found yourself nodding as quickly as you could. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted each time Seonghwa pounded himself into you, overcome by a delirious amount of pleasure once you felt his tail slide underneath your body to swipe and rub along your swollen clit, the rough scales sending almost painful strikes of pleasure into your core. “Breed me, Seonghwa. Breed me and make me yours.” 
Seonghwa met Rosanna’s gaze, his lips curling into a blissful smile once he saw hers, knowing both of their wishes were coming true. You were his, and she was yours. The three of you allowed to mingle inside a space of your own, without any threats, able to join each other at a pinnacle of love for as long as your hearts desired. “As you wish, my love,” Seonghwa replied breathlessly, flipping your body around and facing you, using the tip of his tail to press into your clit in just the right way to make you let out a choked sob, your arousal coating his throbbing cock. “I’m going to fill you now. It’s coming, beloved.”
You tossed your head back onto the sheets below your head, about to fade away completely when Rosanna sat on her knees near the edge of the bed, beginning to run her fingers through your hair and leaving kisses on your cheek and earlobe, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement into your ear. Seonghwa’s relentless thrusts and the sudden intrusion of his cum flowing into your womb and filling you up to the brim sent you over the edge once again. You yelled out for them, reaching out your hands as well, feeling like you would drown in ecstasy without a way to come back to the shore. Seonghwa took your hand in his and held it tightly, leaning down against your body, still sheathed inside you, keeping you full of his love. Rosanna held your other hand just as tightly, pressing her cheek against yours, neither of them letting go of you. 
༻✧༺
Turning your sore, bruise-riddled body in the velvet sheets, you faced the two slumbering individuals beside you, studying their features bathed in the moonlight that was peeking through the stained-glass window. Your dear Rosanna was wrapped up in Seonghwa’s arms, being held protectively from anyone or anything that wanted to do her harm. She held him back, her fingers clutching at the ends of his raven hair, her face displaying complete and utter peace. When you first arrived, you remembered the serenity etched into her features, her eyes diligently studying the book she was reading in the library. You remembered how Seonghwa looked at her anytime he was near her. With sparkling eyes full of love and longing. Perhaps they didn’t need you. You suddenly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, holding two fingers over your heart, feeling it hammering inside your ribcage, your chest tightening up uncomfortably. Without thinking, you stood up and walked over to your clothes to begin putting your trousers on. 
“I know things are complicated for you, but you shouldn’t go back to that monster of a king,” Seonghwa said in a hushed voice, already sitting up against the headboard, brushing his fingers over Rosanna’s hair as she slept soundly. You craned your neck back to look at the man, swallowing hard, the warmth inside your heart telling you that everything you felt before wasn’t a fluke. He ran a hand through his bed hair to smooth it out, leaning his head against the wood behind him. Sensing your apprehension, he sought to quell your fears. “ I’m truly sorry I gave you such a hard time before. I was acting out of selfishness. I couldn’t accept that you offered her something I couldn’t…” 
Your grip loosened from the material that was hanging from your hips, letting it pool around your feet below. Seonghwa reached out for your hand, prompting you to take it. He squeezed your fingers, his eyebrows upturned with regret. “Please forgive me, love.” 
You squeezed his fingers back, sliding back down onto the bed to leave a peck on his cheek. “I forgive you, Seonghwa. It’s okay. I…couldn’t accept that either, actually. I wanted to be the one that saved her. That took all her pain away. I wanted to be…her prince.” You laughed weakly at your own words, shaking your head, but Seonghwa looked at you with deep understanding. “I’m just a nobody with some rusted chain-mail. But…I’m happy being whatever she wants me to be.” 
Seonghwa gave you a genuine smile, one that filled you with comfort. “She wants you to be you, darling. She fell in love with you…not the knight of the round table…” His voice drifted off as he pressed his lips to your cheek, closing his eyes. “Not the loyal guard of the king…” Another kiss, this one just beside your lips. “But you, Y/N, the softhearted, tenacious woman that’s underneath all the heavy armor you wear. That’s who she fell in love with.” 
“So…I’m enough?” you asked under your breath, as though you were ready to crack and crumble underneath the weight of them. 
“More than enough.” As Seonghwa encased your cheeks with his slender fingers, he brought you into a real kiss, letting you whisper a broken ‘thank you’ in between kisses. He brought you into his arms, giving you another gentle reminder, “You have a place here. With us. With her. I promise you.” 
Once he let you go, you leaned your head in the crook of his neck, gazing down at Rosanna who was still sleeping soundly in his arms, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I’ll stay...” Seonghwa nodded to himself in silence, rubbing your shoulder with his hand and pressing a small kiss to your cheek. You held your hand out above Rosanna’s head, wanting to touch her hair like Seonghwa had done earlier, but hesitating out of habit like you had done for many years prior. 
Seonghwa took your trembling hand and guided it down to the princess’s head. “It’s okay, Y/N. You’re safe here. You don’t have to hide anymore.” He looked at you with his soft sapphire gaze, studying your softened expression for a moment, before looking down at Rosanna. “She wanted you to stay the most, you know. She’d stand at the windowsill right over there day after day, waiting for you to come. All this time.” 
You didn’t realize you were crying until you saw your teardrops land onto Rosanna’s cheek and slide down onto the sheets in small splotches. Seonghwa sighed to himself, wondering if you had finally removed the last piece of armor you had on. 
Rosanna’s eyes fluttered open when a tear landed on her eyelid, concerned by the sight of your immense display of emotion. She reached up to touch your tear-stained face, immediately asking, “Y/N, are you okay?” 
You nodded, taking her cheeks into your warm hands and leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto her lips. Once you pulled away, you heard her make a small noise of protest at the loss of your warmth, causing you to let out a chuckle. “I’m more than okay…”
She wiped a few of your tears away with her thumbs, gazing up at you. “Then why are you crying, my love?” 
Taking in a deep breath, you pressed your forehead onto hers, whispering, “I love you, Rosanna…since the very beginning, I’ve loved you with all my heart.” 
Rosanna blushed heavily, suddenly wrapping her arms around you and pulling your body flush to hers, burying her face into your neck so that you couldn’t see how much you had affected her. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you know.” 
“Once more,” you requested against her ear, eventually meeting her uncharacteristically shy, but passionate gaze. 
“I love you, Y/N,” she answered with all the passion she could conjure up, relieved that you looked just as flustered as she did.
Your thumb pressed into her bottom lip, wanting to feel it move under your skin when she recited the spell that she now had you under. “One more time…” 
Rosanna clutched the back of your head with two hands, her heart still skipping a beat when she said, “I love you…”
“As do I, Rosanna. Always and forever,” you returned, encouraging Rosanna to press her lips onto yours, your bodies melding to one another, making you forget about everything else entirely. 
Seonghwa reached down to pet the tops of your heads, thankful he could witness a happy ending being written right in front of his eyes, the ink still wet to the touch. Though the books ahead were still full of blank pages, the first was finally complete, ready to be put back onto the shelf in favor of a new one. 
➽───────────────❥
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No. 48
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Hero can’t Hero people who haven’t hurt him. Due to a curse, Villain can’t hurt people either.
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“Please, just hit me already.”
Villain set down his teacup, addressing Hero with an arc of his brow. “That would be rather rude of me, [Hero]. We haven’t even finished our drinks yet.”
“It’s a request,” Hero picked at the lace doily beneath his mug, “aren’t you obligated to fulfill it? Does that not lie under your laws of hospitality?”
“A proper host would never harm their guest.” Villain smiled, plucking a tart from the dessert tray set between them.
“But you’ve fought others before me.”
“They overstayed their welcome.” Villain took a prim bite of the pastry. The cranberry compote spread like blood over his lips. “They disqualified themselves from being guests.”
“Then would you mind, like,” Hero sighed, “disqualifying me?”
“I’m afraid that’s something you must do yourself.”
“How?”
Villain waved a hand and a butcher knife clattered onto Hero’s plate, heavy-handled and gleaming. “If a host feels properly threatened, they may be allowed to remove a guest.”
The knife was buffed fine enough to reflect Hero’s furrowed brows. As Hero grabbed it, Villain shifted higher in his seat, grinning into the rim of his cup. The house seemed to heat up and sweat built on Hero’s palm.
Hero cursed under his breath.
“Sorry, but that’s not really my style.”
Hero set the knife aside. Then, he glanced back up at Villain, who still held his cup at his mouth. Tendrils of steam obscured most of his pinched lips.
Shrugging, Hero snagged one of the fancy sandwiches—crustless and topped with a shiny olive—and chewed it with a bite too hard for soft bread and sliced cucumbers. His teeth clacked.
“Well, it seems we’re at an impasse then.” Villain hummed, his expression returning to its ever-pleasant facade: soft smile, brows lifted just enough to be empathetic, eyes deceptively warm. He straightened his lapels and smoothed his hair, then tried to widen his smile further. It slanted into more of a smirk.
The butcher knife disappeared from the table with a quiet zip of air.
“I guess we are.” Hero rolled the olive on his tongue and blinked as his plate and half-eaten sandwich also vanished.
////
“Do you have a match?”
“Yes, of course.” Villain lounged on the chaise with a book across his lap and peered at Hero over the rims of his half-moon glasses. He flipped a page. “Before I do though, you should know that the house doesn’t burn.”
Hero paused. “That’s quite a good idea.”
Villain raised both brows, before shaking his head. “Do try harder with escaping. Burning is typically the first solution my guests like to try.”
“You said I had to hurt you, not the house. Why would I try that?”
“I said you had to be a threat to my well-being.” Villain snapped and a matchbox popped onto the table beside Hero. “Logically, a burning house would threaten me as well.”
“But it doesn’t.” Hero had already tried to hack through the walls and windows in his bedroom. Not even a splinter or shard broke free.
“No,” Villain tapped the side of his book, “it does not. The house does not break, believe me. Others before you have tried. There is no way out unless you are no longer a guest.”
Hero trailed his fingers over the matchbox and glanced toward the main door. The wood was dark and glossy. No light came through the seams.
“Are you a guest?” Hero asked, turning back to Villain.
The firelight lapped at Villain’s cheek.
“This is my home.”
////
“I wouldn’t be offended if you hurt me.” Villain said on Hero’s fifth night. “It’s perfectly understandable.”
“I can’t hurt you.” Hero muttered as he chopped vegetables.
At every meal, food appeared on the table. The meats were dripped in glazes, the sides gleamed fresh, and the desserts tasted perfectly sweet. As they drank, the tea never cooled and pitchers never emptied. The constant supply of food unsettled Hero. Villain, gracious and attentive, summoned Hero raw ingredients with little persuasion.
“That’s very kind of you,” Villain drawled, “but truly, you have somewhere to return to, do you not? I assure you, time passes the same here as it does out there.”
“It does not matter. My power is bound under oath.” Hero considered the knife in his hand. It was much slimmer but no less sharp than the butcher knife on the first night. He pointed it toward Villain and laid the tip on his topmost vest button. “You have to wound me before I can wound you.”
At knifepoint, Villain did not so much as swallow. He regarded the weapon calmly, almost tilting his head back to make room; his silk cravat caught the edge.
“I assumed you were just being stubborn.”
Hero quickly withdrew the knife. “Regardless of the oath, I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“You can’t stay here.” Villain patted his neck.
“I know that,” Hero halved a tomato, “so we’ll figure something out. You sure you can’t hurt me?”
“Certainly.” Villain voice was certain, a gravity that Hero didn’t question.
“What if I said I liked it?” He joked, tapping his knife in thought.
“Absolutely not.” Villain coughed. His stool creaked as he swiveled away from Hero and elbowed the counter, staring determinedly at the fire in the next room.
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this one is going to be a long one if i decide to continue
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sacrifesse · 5 months
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🐑 ⋆˙⟡♡ LAMB iD PACK 〰️
╰┈┈➤ REQUESTED BY ANON 。
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— NAMES : lambette , lambesse , tahlia , rachael , nessa , kori , agnete , juno , agnes , agnus , miel , amala , catherine , catalina , kate , katie , kathleen , katya , amena , amisha , darlina , joane , liliana , maggie , miranda , aden , beau , neo , noel , blanche , blanchette , blanchesse , lacey , dollie , sacrifesse
— PRONOUNS : lamb/lambs/lambself , innocent/innocents/innocentself , innocent/innocence/innocenceself , pure/pures/pureself , lace/laces/laceself , doll/dolls/dollself , doilie/doilies/doilieself , fear/fears/fearself , fear/fearful/fearfulself , fearful/fearfuls/fearfulself , soft/softs/softself , shy/shys/shyself , timid/timids/timidself , sacrifice/sacrifices/sacrificeself
— TiTLES : the lamb , the innocent one , the pure one , (pronoun) who is innocent and pure , the fearful one , (pronoun) who is fearful , the shy one , (pronoun) who is shy , the one of childlike innocence , (pronoun) who flees at the slightest sign of danger , the timid one , (pronoun) who is timid , the one with no blood on (pronoun) hands , the one of clean hands , (pronoun) who is sacrificed
— GENDERS : lambgender , soflowic , lambthing , sacrilambtraumic , lambhoard , lambdaisyic , lambplushic , lambanimic , cottongender , mochilambgender , puddinglambgender , confettilambgender , icecreamlambgender , cookielambgender , lambangel , lambcute , lambstuffic , puppetlambaesic , lambplustaric , sheepcoric , fluffyflangender
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pt: lamb id pack
requested by anon /end pt.
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marypsue · 6 months
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I haven't read much of the Lost Boys comics, but from what I have read: somebody had their brain turned all the way on making the Widow Johnson a vampire, and then turned it right back off again making her and hers all into hot young-looking fetish people. This is The Lost Boys. Max got to be a vampire. The Widow Johnson should be a sweet-looking little old apple-cheeked lady with wispy white hair who bakes pies and has a little white house with red shutters absolutely packed with cottage kitsch and handmade doilies and who just loves Grandpa's taxidermy monstrosities and pinches Sam's cheek every time she sees him no matter how many times he asks her not to, and also kills people and drinks their blood.
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sedehaven · 2 months
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Relic
1.
long-dead hands dancing with hook and needle -- weaving tatting thread
into lush roses--crimson, cherry, and vermilion-- overblown in a snowy field of tablecloth
doily, spider-spun and well-blocked, a soft thing to make the cheapest chipboard table
something pretty
2.
it never stayed long in the cedar chest, passed from hand to hand, pressed to descendant
cheek, gathered in the fists of babies who opened their eyes decades after you closed yours--your meisterstruck,
your rosy rhapsody, your crocheted epitaph, a grave marker worked by your own fingers, a memory
made material--bone white, blood red, and immortal
3.
i wonder,
will my efforts in pen and ink, in living words, will they remember me as kindly as your rose tablecloth
remembers you?
-- S. E. De Haven
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Love, Lunacy, Time: Ch 2
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summary: As the front door swings open, you are greeted by faces that stir a sense of recognition deep within you. Yet, something about their demeanor feels off, their behavior slightly peculiar. It's as if they are familiar, but not quite themselves. With each passing interaction, you begin to realize that there's more to Westview than meets the eye. The town holds secrets, and the allure grows stronger, drawing you deeper into its intricate web.
pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader
warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.
previous
If it were any other situation, you would've gladly admired the beautifully decorated house you find yourself in. It's not every day that one finds themselves waking up within the walls of a meticulously decorated home in 1953.
Marc guides you down the wooden flight of stairs, ensuring that he takes the lead while keeping you safely behind him. You had observed the subtle shift in demeanor and accent as Steven relinquished control to Marc, and now you witness the embodiment of that change as Marc confidently leads the way.
When your eyes come in contact with the living room, you find yourself surrounded by an atmosphere that exudes warmth and comfort. The furniture, tastefully arranged in cozy clusters, invites you to take a seat and unwind. Plush, upholstered sofas and armchairs with floral patterns, beckon you to sink into their embrace.
The coffee table in the center of the room is adorned with a delicate lace doily, and a vase filled with freshly picked flowers sits as its centerpiece. The scent of the blossoms permeates the air, infusing the room with a natural sweetness.
Nearby, a wooden side table holds a stack of magazines, inviting you to peruse their pages and discover the latest trends and stories. You also notice a bookcase against the wall, filled with volumes of classic literature and well-loved novels.
The walls are adorned with framed black and white photographs, capturing cherished moments frozen in time. Pictures of you and your husbands. Smiles and laughter frozen in frames.
A long, white butler door stands on one wall, dividing the space between the living room and what you can assume is the kitchen. Next to the door, there's a three-paneled wood shutter that covers a pass-through window.
The windows, draped with floral patterned curtains, allow soft sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow on the polished hardwood floor.
Nestled at the corner of the fireplace, within view of the sofa, stands a television, similar to the one you saw in the bedroom. Atop it sits a beautiful photograph of you, smiling at the camera.
Every corner of the living room holds a personal touch as if someone took great care in creating a haven of comfort and memories. Despite the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, a feeling of warmth and belonging begins to stir within you.
In the reflective surfaces scattered throughout the living room and the entrance area, you catch glimpses of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their reassuring smiles provide a comforting presence amidst the unknown.
But Marc's firm hand gently guides you toward the front door, diverting your attention from the comforting reflections. With each step, your senses heighten, and a sense of anticipation builds within you Marc reaches for the doorknob, his hand steady and composed. With a gentle turn, the door creaks open, revealing a sight that both shocks and relieves you in equal measure.
In front of you stand Layla and Bucky, their figures silhouetted against the soft glow of the morning sunlight streaming through the open door. They stand closely, their arms intertwined, and a bouquet of vibrant flowers rests gently in Layla's arm.
Marc's eyes fall upon Layla, a bit shocked by the dress she's wearing. The knee-length, short-sleeved dress is made of a soft, pastel blue fabric and the neckline is modest, with a rounded collar. The dress cinches at the waist, before flowing gently outward in a flattering A-line silhouette.
Layla is wearing low-heeled shoes and her curly hair is styled in an updo. Her wild curls still manage to peak out. This is the first time Marc has seen Layla embrace such a feminine look since he met her.
Your gaze lingers on Bucky, unable to tear your eyes away from your best friend. Don't let Loki hear you. That Drama Queen will prank you to the world's end. However, you can't deny the fact that you are caught off guard by Bucky's look.
For the first time since you met him back in 2013 when he was still the Winter Soldier, you have never seen his hair so short. Nor have you seen him in a suit and such a wide grin on his face. Your best friend only smiles like that for Alpine or if there are plums.
"Oh, my stars and garters! Look at you two lovebirds! Ain't you a dashing couple?" Layla greets you and Marc with a cheerful smile, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "We're your neighbours to the right. Our right, not yours."
Bucky steps forward, his grin widening, and extends his hand to Marc. "At your service, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you can just call me Bucky," he introduces himself with a hint of old-fashioned charm. "And this lovely dame by my side is my beautiful bride, Layla."
As you steal a glance at the mirror behind you, you catch sight of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their faces bear expressions of utter bewilderment, their gazes fixed upon Layla with a mix of surprise and shock, undoubtedly taken aback by her unexpected behavior. "What in the world?" you hear Steven exclaim from the mirror, his confusion mirroring your own.
Marc's eyes widen in astonishment, his brow furrowing as he struggles to comprehend what is going on. He can't help but echo Steven's sentiment. Why the hell is Layla talking like this? Sure, she had been exploring the dating scene, but married?
Marc hesitates for a moment, his confusion evident on his face, before he extends his hand to shake Bucky's in silence. His eyes dart between Layla's cheerful expression and Bucky's charismatic demeanor, struggling to find the right words in this peculiar situation.
Bucky, still grinning from ear to ear, releases Marc's hand and turns his attention to you. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the blushing bride herself," he says with a playful wink. "Layla here couldn't stop gushing about the two of you. Said you weren't able to keep your hands off each other in the lawn while moving furniture and whatnot."
Layla playfully swats her husband's chest, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Oh, darling, would you look at them now? Still in their nightwear and as quiet as church mice! I do declare, they must have had themselves a jolly late night, if you catch my drift!"
Bucky, his eyes widening in mock astonishment, puts a hand to his chest in an exaggerated display of shock. "Well, I'll be! Late nights and quiet mornings, eh? Seems like our new neighbors here know how to keep the fire burning, even in the wee hours!"
hearty laughter
The sudden, uproarious laughter rings throughout the room, catching you completely off guard. It emerges seemingly out of nowhere, startling you with its unexpectedness.
You exchange puzzled glances with Marc, your eyes widening in surprise as the laughter continues, echoing through the living room. Both you and Marc are left bewildered, unable to understand where it's coming from.
Bucky and Layla, however, remain unaffected, their smiles unwavering as they carry on their conversation, oblivious to the inexplicable laughter surrounding them. Marc and Jake both snap into a state of hypervigilance, their body instinctively tensing up. In a moment of instinctive connection, Marc's hand instinctively seeks yours, intertwining your fingers together.
Layla raises an eyebrow and glances at your intertwined hands with a playful smirk. "Well, I do declare, looks like our lovebirds here can't keep their hand off each other!"
Bucky turns to Layla with a wistful smile, his voice filled with fond memories. "It reminds me of us, darling. Do you recall that first week after we tied the knot? I simply couldn't bear to be apart from you, so I took a whole week off work, much to the boss's chagrin!"
"Don't remind me, honey," Layla says, her tone tinged with playful exasperation. Her gaze falls upon the bouquet of vibrant flowers still cradled in her arms, a realization dawning on her. "Oh, look at that, I still haven't given this to our neighbors. And they still haven't introduced themselves to us. You and Marc exchange a quick glance, silently communicating your decision. It's best to maintain the illusion and introduce yourselves as if you are a couple living in this era. You two need to figure out where you are before you go revealing everything.
It's clear that Layla and Bucky are unaware of who you and Marc truly are. They have no knowledge of the fact that Marc is good friends with Layla or that Bucky is your best friend. You give Marc a reassuring nod, a silent message to convey your support, and he takes a step forward, gently squeezing your hand as if to gather strength.
With the warmest smile Marc can muster, ensuring it appears genuine and welcoming, he glances at Bucky and Layla, careful not to appear stiff or forced. "Thank you, Bucky and Layla for the warm welcome and the beautiful flowers," Marc says, graciously accepting the bouquet from Layla, "My name's Marc Spector." He then turns his gaze towards you, gesturing for you to introduce yourself.
You warmly smile at the two, before stating your name and saying, "We really appreciate your warm welcome and the lovely flowers. It's great to meet friendly neighbors like you."
Layla speaks with genuine enthusiasm as she responds, "Oh, you're most welcome, dear! It's our pleasure to make you feel at home. We're so glad to have you as our neighbors."
Bucky gives a firm nod, a determined glint in his eyes, before speaking in a protective tone, "You two just give us a holler if anyone's giving you the slightest trouble, and I'll take care of them.”
You bit back a smile, silently acknowledging Bucky's protective offer. It seems that even in this unfamiliar setting, Bucky's instinct to protect his friends remains unchanged.
"Thank you, Bucky," you reply with a genuine smile, appreciating the sentiment behind his words. "We feel lucky to have such caring neighbors. We'll definitely let you know if we need any help."
Layla claps her hands together. "Oh, I do hope we'll be the best of friends, dearie! Why, we'll have tea parties and garden luncheons, and who knows what other delightful gatherings we can plan together?"
Bucky turns to Layla and gallantly plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, his voice filled with admiration. "Oh, my darling, you've sparked a brilliant idea within me."
Layla gazes at Bucky, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue from the kiss on her cheek, “Pray, do tell, my love. What idea has taken hold of your imaginative mind?"
Bucky turns to you and Marc, his wide grin showcasing his excitement. "Why don't we continue this warm welcome and celebrate our newfound friendship over a delightful dinner? I must say, my dear, Layla and I would be absolutely honored to dine at your place this evening."
"Absolutely! It would be our honor to share a meal with our charming new neighbors. We'll bring a bottle of our finest wine to toast to our newfound friendship!" Layla adds while nodding her head in agreement.
You and Marc exchange another glance, both surprised by the swift invitation and the seemingly unchangeable plans already set in motion. You had hoped for a moment to gather your thoughts and discuss the situation privately, but it seems that Bucky and Layla have other ideas.
As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.
Your mind races, trying to find a way to politely decline their invitation without revealing too much. But before you can utter a word, Layla playfully interrupts, "Oh, now don't you worry your pretty little heads, dearies! We've already decided. Tonight, at seven o'clock, we shall grace your doorstep for a delightful dinner together."
Bucky steps forward, extending his arm toward you, inviting you to take it. "Until tonight then, my dear neighbors," he says with a charming smile. "We'll leave you to get settled and prepare for our grand gathering. Farewell for now!"
You and Marc, still slightly stunned, manage to bid them goodbye, your words laced with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Farewell, Layla and Bucky. We'll see you tonight," you say, trying to maintain composure while secretly wondering how you'll navigate this unexpected dinner party.
As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.
Marc's grip on your hand tightens, mirroring the tension in his expression. You can sense the unease and confusion within him, mirroring your own thoughts. As the door closes behind Bucky and Layla, enveloping you in a momentary silence, the weight of the situation begins to settle upon you.
You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing thoughts. This unexpected turn of events has left you grappling with a myriad of questions. How did you end up in this meticulously decorated house in 1953? What happened to bring you here? And most importantly, how do you navigate this unfamiliar era without arousing suspicion or revealing your true identities?
The living room, once a haven of warmth and comfort, now feels foreign and daunting. The photographs on the walls that once showcased cherished moments now appear as enigmatic artifacts from a distant past. The scent of the flowers, once pleasant and inviting, now serves as a reminder of the surreal nature of your current reality.
You turn to face Marc, his eyes searching yours for answers that neither of you possesses. In the midst of uncertainty, you find solace in the fact that you have each other. Your connection, forged through shared experiences and the inexplicable journey that led you here, provides a sense of strength and unity.
Silently, you communicate your desire to retreat from the unfamiliarity of the living room, to find a moment of respite and privacy. Without exchanging words, you both make your way back up the wooden flight of stairs, seeking the familiarity of the bedroom you woke up in.
Once inside the room, you close the door behind you, shutting out the outside world for a brief moment. The air feels heavy with anticipation as you turn to face each other, the weight of the situation palpable.
"I can't believe this is happening," Marc finally breaks the silence, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "We need to figure out what's going on and how we ended up in the 50s. But we have to be careful. If Layla and Bucky suspect that something is wrong, it could complicate things.”
You nod in agreement, fully aware of the delicate nature of your predicament. "We need to gather information discreetly, without raising any suspicions," you suggest, your mind racing with possibilities. "Maybe we can explore the house further, look for clues or any hints of how we got here. We should also try to find a way to communicate with Steven and Jake without alerting anyone else."
Marc paces the room, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Yes, that's a good plan. We need to be careful and gather as much information as we can before taking any action. It might be helpful to see if we can find any documents or personal belongings could tell us how we're connected to them."
You both share a moment of quiet contemplation, aware of the challenges that lie ahead. The thought of venturing into this unknown world, where every action and word must be carefully measured, fills you with a mix of trepidation and determination.
"We'll figure this out, together," you say, your voice filled with conviction.
Marc's eyes meet yours, a spark of resilience and trust igniting between you. "You're right," he replies, a glimmer of determination shining in his gaze. "No matter where or when we are, we'll always find a way. We'll navigate this mystery and return to our own time, I promise."
With a renewed sense of purpose, you and Marc prepare to face the challenges that lie ahead. The search for answers begins, and as you step back into the unknown, you know that your bond and unwavering determination will guide you through whatever obstacles may come your way.
The first obstacle being dinner with the Barnes.
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☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.
☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.
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taglist: @lalalily03, @cicithemess2000, @elliewilliamswhore
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angelfoodcake222 · 5 months
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LMK Macaque x NB!S/O reader
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TW: mention of ending lives, previous forced marriages (see the later listed item), running away, name change, Y/N disowning own family, mentions of abuse, familial degradation, kidnapping, constriction, blood, a very protective Macaque, cuddles & comfort at the end.
At first, you had assumed that some haphazard punk tried to sneak in for some half-baked reason or another, or maybe an old foe came to confront him. A short silence was your cue to pick up the tray & decanter then carefully slide the door aside as you came to where you were now; face to face with the group you disowned nearly a decade ago in your mid-/late teens. Your parents, siblings & select few relatives were held to the ground by several shadow clones with Li Li standing near the door in a mid-dash pose. He stopped only when your face shifted from a happy greeting for him to a cold, livid snarl for those pinned to the ground. You felt the wind of his sudden stopping shift your garbs, bringing slight comfort in the warm weather.
You stood there, stunned at the sight before you which mirrored your frozen posture once everyone noticed you standing at your back sliding door. You had briefly stepped out of your backyard gazebo where your boyfriend, Macaque or Li Li as you took to calling him once you were comfortable with each other, was sitting alone & patiently. You had gone in to get the freshly made plum cakes you had spent all day preparing for your get-together, delicately placing them onto a doily-clad tray with the juice of your choosing as you stepped outside with the faint sounds of an argument.
Your arms cross, your body leans into the wooden doorway, the eyes that were soft & loving moments ago turned hard & hateful.
As you surveyed the scene, Li Li heard the rage boiling your blood & your precious heart pound with a pain you had long since buried. Both things he had in his nearly three years of dating you ever heard such sounds from you. Your typically serene, timid form was less than serene at the moment.
With a heated snort that chilled into a peeved sigh, you ask him to move the captured folks into an upright position for a more 'respectable' conversation that is undoubtedly about to take place. You simply step back, set the tray onto the countertop directly beside the door, then turn to see Li Li had done as you asked with a confused look on that oh-so-kissable face of his.
"No." your one-word statement caught your beloved off guard for a moment until one of your parents bit a clone's hand to speak. They cursed at you, degraded you for being an 'ungrateful, spiteful, uncultured brat' who 'needed to be educated on how to behave like the higher-class citizen you once were'. A scoff hissed past your lips as you shot back.
You were not against having a partner, having a family, something sweet, simple & domestic. With Li Li, you could have some of that. He was doting, gentle, you could sniffle in the lowest tone physically possible while he's away gods-knows-where & he'd be right there beside you most of the time. The few times he didn't show up instantly was followed swiftly with him appearing with damage that could only come from a war zone. By the time he showed up like that, you had already subdued your episode enough to patch him up. He says he doesn't need you to do so, but your big, pleading gaze convinces him otherwise.
How many failed matchmaking ceremonies have you been dragged to only to get ruthlessly rejected? How many times had you been kidnapped & nearly forced into spouse-hood by a rivaling family's newest leader/rogue child only to have escape, conning, &, in the more serious cases, murder be your lone option for a life outside of that one? 15 & 22, respectively, but who's counting? You. You were counting.
Every.
Single.
Time.
When you returned home to rest your weary body, embrued with the damage dealt by not only the sutor's gaurds, but but themselves as well, you were not met by warm, welcoming family. No. Cold, abusive, apathetic glares & jeers were all you returned to with a hefty drizzle of similar treatment to top it all off.
When one of your relatives hissed your original name, their tone soaked in animosity & disrespect, one shadow clone clocked them clean in the face with a sickening yet satisfying thwack sound to grace your ears. In near perfect unity, all of the intruders voiced their discomfort as the doubles shifted in shape to squeeze the air out of them to the point of silence, save for groans & moans of pain. While your beloved's shadows constricted around them, he steps to your side.
"Any other smart comments?" He came to your side, his tail caressing your non-supporting leg while he slightly eclipsed the gawdy grubs' view of you. You did like it when he became protective over you, very much, however, this time he was out for dealing near &/or absolute mortal damage to those who had the temerity, the unmitigated gall to cause any harm to his precious Y/N in any form. Your subtle leg flex to make your limb fit better in his extended spine only concretes his protective instinct. His intimidating inquiry was met with a wheezing scoff.
"Go crawl under Sun Wukong's cape, you mangey mongrel! You are just a shadow of him after all." This one's snarky jibe was soon drowned out by the blood sputtering from their mouth, the sound of struggling bones & joints filling the air. You allow it to continue only for a millisecond or two before running your hand over his shoulder, past his right pectoral, finally landing above his heart as it rapped against his sternum. You always had a thing for his softer, domestic clothes, a shame this one was torn in the tussle earlier. You'd patch it up later.
"Li Li, my love." your voice is low, a gossamer sound most wouldn't be able to discern from the ragged coughing dampening it out as the inflicted snake's wheezes & gurgles continued struggling to stay consious through the mind numbing agony, but your boyfriend could with uncanny ease.
"They do not deserve to be graced with death by your will, directly or by clone. Let their enemies find them, they'll be far more ruthless with them than either of us could be. Please, allow me to handle this." Your thumb rubbed a sultry line into his partially exposed, plush chest, free of armor & a sliver of cloth as one relative got a sucker punch in with their bladed iron knuckles. Must have been one Hell of a fight if they had to gang up on him like you just knew they would. Snivling cowards. His opening mouth closed gradually, ears once raised in aggression lowered coolly to match your tone.
You slide your hand from his chest, already mourning the lack of subtle warmth, only moving forward once he steps out of your way & reluctantly slides his fluffy appendage from your leg. You reach the two heads of the family you had disowned with a hefty weight in your gut. If either side had any sort of familial love for the other whatsoever, no matter how minor or minuscule, now was the moment to stamp it out indefinitely. Kneeling sternly, you gaze into the separate features that joined to make your face, disgusted at the fact you'd have to see them whenever you gazed into any reflective surface. They stare in gritted silence as you formulate your words, mulling over them momentarily.
"I am not your child, I never have been, never will be. You can do whatever you wish to attempt retrieval; kidnapping me with a whole military, bribing me with the three realms' riches blessed by Budda & the Jade Emperor themselves, or whatever overachieving way you think will work will not. With or without my dearest Liùěr to stand guard. I officially renounce you all as my family & claim myself as the sole member of a group all my own, with one exception." Your tone was unlike anything anyone had expected of you; cold, course & laced with a lifetime of compartmentalized emotions seeping out.
While they were stunned, you stood & strolled over to Macaque to caress your hand over the spot it rested moments ago. His tail followed in suit. You were sure to let some of your affection to be visible to them, but only a bit. When asked where he should send the date crashers off to, you deemed the nearby river a soft enough place for them to land. They are gone before you can fully snuggle up to your monkey man, his arms surrounding you lovingly.
"Let's eat inside; the air is a little dense out here." you nod, rubbing your face into his shoulder & chest affectionately as he guides you inside, your teary-eyed expression giving a heads up of the oncoming breakdown he had been expecting the second you answered the intruders bluntly. The rest of the evening played out like a sleepover; snacks, drinks, movies, even Li Li cracking jokes to cheer you up coupled with ample kisses & cuddles. Yes, he was scheming up millions of murder plans in his mind, but his heart was set on you & your wellbeing. At the end of the day & well into the night, you both lay in your bed, the one the two of you worked together to build from spare pieces, coddling one another with lengthy cuddles until sleep heaved your lids shut.
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bestiesenpai · 1 year
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Finally writing for the prompt Walking into a flower shop and slamming down money on the counter, “How do i passively aggressively say fuck you in flower”
It was dark and macabre in the flower shop you'd walked into. It looked more like a gothic mansion than somewhere to get daffodils and lilies, but there they were in black vases atop matching black doilies. The rain beating against the window was a natural addition to the place you were in, it would be odd if the sun even dared to come out at a time like this.
There weren't only flowers in the shop, but a host of other odds and ends. Crystal balls and worn leather books, cobwebs that you weren't sure were for show or were truly real. Skeletons were used as decor, the bones of a corvid hanging above your head. With dark floorboards and nearly pitch-black floral wallpaper, the flower shop likened itself to a dungeon.
"Hello." The man behind the counter watched you with little interest, the mark across his face the only color against his staunchly pale skin. His fingers had several rings on each and there were silver bobby pins keeping back the hair that wasn't wrapped up in two messy buns.
"H-hi..." Too scared to make eye contact with him, your legs seemed to stop on their own atop a deep red oriental rug, it's tassels well worn and cared for. The man behind the counter didn't look at you any further, opting to go back to scribbling notes in a journal.
Just as you began to feel trapped in an awkward situation, the shutters on the windows banged loudly as the wind ripped through the air. Jumping to attention, you forced yourself to remember why you'd come here.
As the memories of what happened came back to you, your blood began to boil all over again. Fishing out the money from your pocket, you walked up to the counter with confidence.
"How do I passive aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" Not so gently slapping the money on the counter, you waited as the man looked between you and the money before letting out a huffing laugh.
"Who's it for?" He asked with a smirk, quickly tucking away his notebook into a drawer underneath the counter. Lacing his fingers together and resting his head on them, he leaned forward with rapt interest.
"An old boyfriend who thought he could have the last laugh." It made you want to vomit, the image of him with someone you used to call a friend burning in your mind.
"Oh do I have the thing for you." Sliding off his perch, the man quickly rounded the corner and began looking through all the flowers on display. "How long were you together?"
"Too long." You groaned, rolling your eyes at all the time you'd wasted with him.
"Did you love him?"
"Sadly."
"He allergic to anything?"
"Nope! As healthy as can be!"
"Damn." Snapping his fingers, the man tsked beneath his breath.
"I don't want to kill him!" You laughed breathlessly, watching him flutter about the shop. "Just...do you have any poison ivy or something?"
"Please, that stuff is childs play." Rolling his eyes, the man turned back to you with a few deep red dahlias in his hand. "Do you think he knows what nightshade looks like?"
"Look..." Trailing off, you realized you didn't know his name.
"Choso." He filled in the blank.
"Right, Choso. I don't want to do too much harm, okay? I want to inconvenience him, not send him to an early grave." As much as the thought was tempting in the moment, you had to keep a straight head.
"Fine." Rolling his eyes, Choso dropped his shoulders and stepped away from a display case you'd just now noticed had a 'poison' sign taped on it. "You're no fun."
"Maybe next time." Laughing at his overdramatics, you began to wander about in the store, trailing behind him as he picked up roses with large thorns and a few dried twigs. As you followed behind him, you noticed tattoos along his arms and peaking out from the collar of his shirt; many were flowers in black ink and others were of bees and snakes, small birds that you would find in a garden.
"Are you going to tell me your name or are you content with just staring at me?" He asked without looking at you. Now it was his turn to laugh as you quickly ducked your head away.
"It's (Y/N)." The answer rushed out of your mouth, a heat swiftly enveloping your cheeks.
"Well (Y/N)..." slowly turning around, Choso presented you with the bouquet of dry twigs, thorny roses and black dahlias. "How's this look?"
Looking it over, you thought about the previous topic of conversation, and a smile struggled to stay off your face.
"I know you said it was childs play, but do you really not have any poison ivy?" The smile broke through you, flashing your teeth and making you giggle at the mere prospect. Looking at you with his own smirk, Choso nodded to himself and took a few steps back, walking towards the counter.
"Follow me." He said, waiting for you at a backdoor. You didn't think twice about following him, and soon you were thrust into a different world entirely.
The room you entered was, immediately upon entering, smothering. It was instantly 10 degrees warmer and plenty more humid, with strange neon lights hanging above delicate looking plants in pots all around the room. Shutting the door behind you, Choso donned a pair of gloves and gestured to the room.
"Take your pick." His voice was far too casual, like you had any idea what you were looking at. Begin a slow walk around the room, you could see tiny signs positioned in the pots, giving away their names.
"Jimson weed. Queen Ann's lace. Cow parsnip." Reading the signs, it was astonishing that Choso had so many deadly plants. "Is it even legal to have all these?" Turning over your shoulder, you looked at him curiously.
"I'm a botanist!" He proclaimed, pretending to be offended. "I study these plants! They're certainly never used for anything nefarious!" Breaking out into a grin as he finished his sentence, Choso shook his head. "Ah, who am I kidding? Now, did you choose any?"
"Let's go with something simple, okay? Stinging nettle and hogweed sound good."
"Good choice." Throwing a quick thumbs up, Choso got to work plucking a few for the bouquet. Following him out, a shiver rippled up your back walking out of the makeshift greenhouse.
"So, how will it get to him?" You hadn't the slightest idea how one would deliver deadly flowers.
"Don't worry, I know a guy. Just write his address on the card and I'll take care of the rest. That ex of yours won't even know it's from you."
"Perfect." Eagerly scribbling down the address, you hoped his new girlfriend would be there as well so they could both suffer.
"Hey (Y/N)." Once everything was said and done, Choso pulled out another card, scribbling a slew of numbers on it. "If it's not too much trouble, text me after he get's them. I wanna know how much it hurts."
Immediately punching his number into your phone, you beamed at Choso.
"I'll do you one better, I'll come back and tell you in person."
Sticking his hand out, you and Choso exchanged a firm handshake, and neither of you let go.
"Deal."
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minefield-of-a-ninja · 9 months
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Summary: Gabriela Cruz invests in a Victorian mansion in the middle of America where the rule of Buyer Beware is absolute. When her twin sister goes missing, a couple of federal agents show up. Lucky for Gabi, Dean and Sam Winchester are on the case.
Characters: Gabriela Cruz, Camila Cruz, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Ed Zeddmore, Harry Spangler
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, language, mentions death of family members, cursed object, mentions of blood + gore, sarcasm, twin dynamics, explicit sex
Words: 4,600
Author's notes: thank you, @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker as always for the pre-reads and support!
CAVEAT EMPTOR
I consider myself a strong, independent woman. I pay my own bills, put a little money away in savings every month, and I just recently took out a loan all by myself to buy an old Victorian mansion cum bed and breakfast in my hometown.
Which brings me to my first point — that most of the time, I think I’m rad as fuck. Then, once in a blue moon (literally, in this case), some guy finds his way into my life, and I personally end up winding back the advancement of women by a century for good dick.
It’s humiliating.
How, you ask? Well, let me tell you...
“When you said Victorian bed and breakfast, I thought it’d be all lace doilies and ornately carved wood. This place is sick!” 
Camila, my little sister by 15 minutes, had driven down from Minneapolis to help me move into my new home. We hadn’t seen much of each other in the past year because she was living with a man who considered our twin bond to be “unhealthy” (read: he’s a pissbaby.)
What he couldn’t wrap his tiny brain around was that Cami and I were not only twins, but we’d spent the entirety of our adult lives with only each other to call home. Our older brother was killed by a drunk driver, our mom by breast cancer, and our dad by colon cancer, all before we were old enough to vote.
Anyway, Camila told him he could stay in his glass box of a top-floor condo in the city while she popped down “just for the weekend” to help me unpack. Little did he know, she’d brought with her an obscenely priced bottle of pink Taittinger Comtes de Champagne 1973 from his wine cellar. 
“Camila Beatriz!” I cackled as I popped the cork.
She was living with a guy so worried about our “connection” that he never bothered to ask about her predilection to permanently borrow (her phrase, not mine) things from the men she dated.
“He’ll never miss it. Just pour.”
We sipped, kind of unpacked, nibbled on a fruit and cheese platter, and generally basked in each other’s presence. As we squeezed the last drops of pink bubbly from the bottle and the sun dipped below the horizon, I felt a chill. I assumed it was exhaustion, nerves, stress — whatever. 
“I’m tired, sissy,” Cami confessed. “Show me to my room, would ya?”
I did, giving her a long squeeze. “Thanks for coming, sissy,” I whispered in her ear. “Sleep sweet.”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she kissed mine before I headed to my room to take a warm shower. Even though the chill never quite left me throughout slathering myself in lotion and wrapping up in my warmest pajamas, it didn’t occur to me that anything was off off.
Then, at midnight, when the third full moon of the season was at its fullest, I was awakened by a blood-curdling sound that seemed to hang in the air for hours after it was released.
“Camila!”
I bolted from the warmth of my bed, flung my heavy door open, and sprinted down the hall to where my sister was supposed to be sleeping. What I found inside that room can never be erased from the darkest corners of my mind.
There was blood everywhere — on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. The room was frigid and vibrating. I felt a presence that turned me inside out, and I started to sweat and heave, regardless of the temperature of the room.
“Cami!” I called out to her, receiving no reply. “Sister!”
I rushed further into the space as whatever it was that I felt began to recede.
“Camila! Where are you?”
I searched and cried, but my sister was nowhere to be found.
The police arrived within minutes, and neighbors hovered on the edge of the property, haphazardly bundled in robes and coats like vultures at the site of carnage. There were hushed whispers of a ghost, a ghoul, or dark spirits.
An ambulance came.
Once the police had questioned me, I was examined by the EMTs and given a sedative. I was told I was in shock. Someone asked if I had any relatives or friends in the area who could stay with me. 
I shook my head. “Cami’s my only family.”
The sedative dumbed me down more than anything. I wasn’t able to sleep or relax. Before dawn, two FBI agents appeared on the scene. The local police were reluctant to let them speak with me, but they somehow persevered.
“Ms. Cruz?”
I looked up to find a string bean of a dude with puppy-dog eyes and a tentative, soothing voice. He introduced himself as Agent Gass and his partner as Agent Black. He asked how much time I’d spent in the house.
“Not even a day.”
Both men nodded. 
I suppose it should have tipped me off that they were not run-of-the-mill federales since they didn’t seem at all surprised by my answer or the situation the way local law enforcement did.
“You just bought the place, right?” asked the other agent.
Until he spoke, I hadn’t realized how tightly wound I was with fear and grief. The quality of his voice had a visceral effect on my senses, like a deep tissue massage or an epic fucking orgasm. 
This man’s voice, you guys...
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, then found that the face belonging to that voice was so beautiful I could no longer hold the tension in my body, and the tears began to flow.
(I know this sounds very dramatic, but I promise we won’t be spending much more time on the grim details. Also, don’t worry; Cami’s fine. I mean, she’s fucking traumatized, but it wasn’t her blood decorating the walls, is what I’m saying.)
The agents quickly bookended me. Agent Gass tugged a paper towel from the roll I’d left sitting on a side table the night before and handed it to me, muttering something about my nose and tears before Agent Black started talking again. 
“There’ve been reports of strange occurrences in this house for decades, but nothing violent.” He was so close that I could feel the rumble of each syllable like the hum of a lullaby or a stealth percussionist in the wild. “Have you witnessed anything out of the ordinary in the last 12 hours?”
I sniffled. “Besides all the fucking terrifying shit I’ve already told the cops?”
Agent Gass cleared his throat beside me. “We’re sorry, but we need to record our own findings. Do you mind telling us what happened?”
I rolled my eyes and blew my nose. “Fine,” I sighed, tossing the wadded-up snot rag into a nearby trash bag.
“It started when the sun set…” 
I recapped the evening’s events, groggily noticing once again that neither agent seemed nearly as taken aback as the local police.
“‘Blood-curdling sound’ — like a scream?” Agent Black’s question pinged in my brain while other parts of me continued to react to the sound of it. 
“I don’t know why I keep using that phrase... it wasn’t a scream, but... it woke me up, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I was chilled to the bone.”
Agent Black nodded. “You said you were cold before, so you took a shower. Was it the same kinda chill you felt when the sound woke you up?”
I shook my head, squinting to try and remember. “No... I- there’s cold chill and scared chill — I felt both at different times. I... I don’t know how else to describe it.”
Agent Black nodded, peeking over my head to his partner, and they exchanged a silent agreement.
I cannot stress enough how aggravated I am that I felt attraction at that moment. My twin sister was missing, and yet I couldn’t stop staring at his stupid mouth. At the time, I didn’t rationalize it at all, probably because of the drugs the EMTs gave me, but suffice it to say that Dean Winchester is a sorcerer. 
He pushed up from beside me, smoothing his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. “Thank you, Ms. Cruz. Try to get some sleep.” He made a subtle gesture to his partner, spurring him into action, then turned to survey the room with a narrowed gaze.
Agent Gass handed me a card. “Please give us a call if you think of anything else. We’ll be in touch.”
Well into the next day, my new home was under constant guard, filled by local law enforcement and various consultants. I didn’t see Agents Gass and Black again until two weird little guys with video equipment showed up. 
I walked out onto my side porch from the kitchen, wiping my hands on a dish towel, wondering what kind of new crew was on the case. By the time I made my way outside, Agent Black was there, hovering over the bearded guy with glasses.
“...I will shoot you, and you know I’m not fucking kidding,” he growled.
“Agent?” I asked, amused beyond reason at his violent threat and casually draping my dish towel over my shoulder. 
At this point, I’d been able to get some sleep and put a bit of time and space between my cognitive processes and the happenings surrounding Cami’s disappearance. So when that cocky little (there’s nothing little about Dean Winchester, OK, I’m being facetious) shit stretched those long, strong legs and climbed up onto my porch, I was fully aware and accepting of just how incredibly attracted to him I was.
He turned, his posture neutralizing and his eyes softening.
“Ms. Cruz. Yeah, hi...” He strode toward the porch. “Thought I’d stop by, see how you’re doin’.”
“Gabi, Agent.”
He grinned wide as he took the last step to stand in front of me, sliding his hands into his pockets and rocking to his heels and back. 
Such a little shit.
“Gabi… right.” He smirked, then glared over his shoulder at the newcomers. “These two botherin’ you?”
I peeked around him and shook my head before pulling back and looking him in the eye. “This’s the first I’ve seen of them. Coffee, Agent?”
He smirked. “Call me Dean.”
In hindsight, inviting him in for coffee was probably my first mistake. I could’ve offered coffee to him and those two boneheads from Wisconsin outside, but, as previously mentioned, I was busy derailing feminism. 
“How do you take it, Dean?” I asked, swiping one of the clean coffee mugs from an array of disorganized kitchenware yet to be shelved from the move. 
As I took the last two steps to my second-hand Nespresso machine, Dean remained silent, so I glanced over my shoulder before reaching for a coffee pod. He shook his head and blinked up from where he seemed to be mesmerized by something in the neighborhood of my hips.
“Black,” he answered with a lush, lopsided smile.
I nodded, then turned to focus on my task. “What brings you back this way? Is there something new with my case?”
“Uhh, yeah, actually — Agent Gass found some interesting things about the layout of this property on the county assessor’s website. D’you know this was a safe house in the Underground Railroad?”
“Yeah.” I turned and handed the agent his coffee. “That’s one of the reasons I bought it and one of the attractions of the bed and breakfast.” 
He thanked me for the cup, eyeing me closely. “So you’re aware of the secret passages in the home? In the room where your sister was sleeping the night she disappeared?”
I shook my head. “What? No. There’s no passageway in my sister’s room, only in the basement and the outbuildings.”
Dean shook his head, holding my gaze. “There’s a full network of passageways in the exterior walls of this house, Gabi,” he continued slowly and pointedly. “Your sister could be trapped. We’d like to take a look at the room again.”
(The next night, over a post-orgasmic cigarette, Dean told me all about another structure he and his brother had cleaned out and sealed off. Someone had erected an apartment building on the execution site of America’s first serial killer. Because Dean Winchester, in addition to being exasperatingly sexy and good with his hands, is a ghost and monster hunter with his brother not-Agent Gass, they come across this kind of thing all the time, I now understand.)
Five minutes after agreeing to let them explore the alleged secret passageways, Agents Black and Gass were sans jackets, rolling up their sleeves, and peering into the mouth of the Rosebud Suite’s small closet. 
“So...” I paused, absorbing the confirmation that all the things I feared went bump in the night and more are real. “What do you think you’re gonna find in there? A ghost? Vampires? My twin sister’s disembodied head?”
For the first time since meeting them, the agents looked at me in alarm. 
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dean said, crossing the room to clasp a big, warm hand around my wrist and squeeze. “You’re twins?”
I nodded.
“Then if that twin stuff everybody talks about is real, you know she’s gonna be fine.” He smiled down at me with kindness. “All we know is that she’s missing, and we know the blood in the room is animal blood.”
Dean was right; I knew in my heart that Gabi would be fine, but as relieved as I should have been, I was suddenly much more disturbed on an entirely different level.
“Animal blood? No one told me this was animal blood. What the fuck is going on?!”
“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Agent Gass appeared at Agent Black’s side, and they exchanged looks before Agent Black continued.
“I dunno why the police didn’t tell you about the animal blood. Maybe they didn’t want to alarm you-”
“Alarm me? I’ve been walking around here worried Camila’s guts were all over one of my guest room walls. I’ve taken sooo much Xanax since Friday night. Is there anything else alarming I should know about?”
They looked at each other again for a beat before Dean shrugged.
“Those two little weirdos outside?” 
“Yeah?”
“They picked up readings that indicate the presence of a cursed object as well as confirmation of human life other than those of us in plain sight.”
I sighed, dropping my eyes to where Dean helpfully caressed my wrist.
“I feel like I’m in catechism... what’s a cursed object?”
I didn’t pull away because, like I said, his caress was very helpful.
“Just like it sounds. Somethin’, usually old, that’s been loaded up with black magic. If we can find it, we can cancel out the magic-”
“Black magic?! Who the fuck- wait, old?” 
Dean nodded, and sadly, he released my wrist.
“Oh, my god, the wine!”
The agents perked up at that and exchanged more silent looks.
“Gabi... where’s the bottle?”
When I say that I am unreasonably attracted to Dean Winchester, this is what I mean: watching him and the clean-shaven Ghostfacer pepper and ash an empty champagne bottle in a graveyard after telling me said bottle was “cursed” should have made me worry about their and my eternal soul like any other good Catholic girl, but no — I still took him to bed. 
Once we found Cami, of course.
“Cayenne pepper. Interesting.”
Dean unwedged the shotgun from propping his trunk of many wonders open before dropping it shut. “Not just for cookin’.” 
He shifted and swayed and sighed as he slid his hands into his pockets and fixed his crinkly, sparkling gaze on me with a lick of his smug smirk.
“Sam?” I asked about his gigantic younger brother, who was back at the house with the other Ghostfacer, rescuing my sister. “Does he have Camila?”
Dean’s face lit up, and his eyebrows popped. “Oh, yeah. She’s good. She’s talkin’ to the police.”
I sighed. “I’d like to go home now.”
I must’ve looked like a frightened and exhausted child at that moment because Dean’s entire demeanor softened as he reached out to pull me in for a hug. His clothes and skin felt and smelled warm, and I started to cry into his white button-up. 
“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I gotcha, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding me close. “You’re fine, and so’s Camila.”
This. Man.
This gorgeous, brave, smells-like-you-expect/hope/pray- for-Axe-body-wash-to-smell (but it doesn’t) man, holding me like a fragile doll and calling me sweetheart is the only man I have allowed to witness a sliver of vulnerability since my dad died. So you can imagine the abject horror I felt at the increasing flip-flop from my guts and the heat pulsing even lower. 
I’ve experienced attraction, okay? I’ve had romantic and sexual partners, I self-lubricate at appropriate times. I orgasm.
But the way Dean Winchester made me feel was so alarming that I have since added that feeling to the stack of alarming things happening after Camila and I opened that bottle of wine.
He loosened his embrace but didn’t pull away completely, looking down at me with curiosity in his tender gaze. “Let’s go.”
Dean ushered me to the front passenger door, opened it, and helped me inside. We were quiet as Dean drove back to my bed and breakfast. The silence allowed my thoughts to dance until he pulled into the alley behind my house.
“They’re just wrapping up with the cops,” Harry said, sliding forward with his phone in hand.
The lights were on inside. Sam was standing in the middle of the kitchen, behind Cami, with one hand on the back of her chair. She was wrapped in a blanket, nodding her head at the men on the other side of the table, and Ed was in the corner, pocketing his phone.
It was all so clear, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and inside to hug my sister. 
“Whoa, gotta put the car in park, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, doing just that.
I guess I really couldn’t wait.
And then I was sprinting to the back door.
Like I said before, Cami is fine. She’s shook, but alive and breathing and not bleeding. I’ve never felt so sick and relieved at the same time or cried so hard. That experience didn’t only bag me the sexiest, warmest, most loving man alive, but it also further strengthened Cami and my priorities for each other. 
Dean kicked the cops out, and Sam made coffee for everyone (which Dean spiked). At some point, the little Ghostfacer dudes squirreled away into guest rooms for the night, Sam and Dean lost their ties, and Cami fell asleep draped across my lap where we were huddled in the front parlor.
“Sammy’ll put her to bed,” Dean whispered, gently tugging me to my feet as Sam indeed lifted Camila in a bridal carry. “Which room you want her in?”
“The one adjoining mine, east wing at the end of the hall.”
Sam nodded, and Cami mumbled, burrowing into his massive chest. He turned and swept toward and up the stairs into the quiet darkness.
“Is it really over?” I asked the house itself as much as Dean. Thankfully, only Dean answered.
“Yeah, it’s over.”
I turned to face him, heaving a sigh. He watched me with that same inquisitive expression as the one from the graveyard, this time with his hands in pockets, sock-footed, sleeves neatly cuffed to his elbows, crisp white collar open at his throat — and he looked like he belonged there in the center of my parlor.
“Agent Black-”
“Yeah... about that...” He dropped his eyes for a beat before looking me in the eye with a renewed spark. “We’re not really federal agents.”
You might think that another surprise would send a person careening into catatonia, but not me. No. No, no, I laughed. I started laughing because it was fucking absurd — the whole thing was berserk, right? 
Cursed objects? Cayenne pepper as some kind of supernatural DEET? This remarkably handsome man existing? I was being Punk’d, right? Is that show still running? What is Ashton Kutcher doing these days anyway?
The answer to me being Punk’d is no. You might want to Google Ashton Kutcher because I still don’t know what he’s doing these days. 
Do I sometimes still stop feeding my chickens to look up at the clear blue sky and pinch myself in case this is all a dream?
The answer to that is yes.
“My name’s Dean Winchester. Sam’s my brother. We've been hunting ghosts and demons and-”
“Demons?!”
The good Catholic girl inside me stammered over that, and Dean nodded slowly, blinking even more slowly as he took a step and reached for me.
“I’ll tell ya everything,” he said with a tired smile and an easy clasp of my hand. “D’you mind if we get a few hours’ sleep first?”
I didn’t mind.
I led him upstairs. We peeked in on Cami, where Sam was watching over her, stretched out on the chaise in that room. They were both fast asleep. 
Dean followed me to my room, and I didn’t think twice about stripping myself bare as I made my way to my ensuite. Before I could conjure any pesky stranger-danger excuses, his hands were on me under the hot spray of water.
The next day, Cami dumped her boyfriend. I have a feeling she’d have done it even if the deadbeat had been assed to make the trip south during her 36-hour absence, but his ineptitude made it easy.
Turns out, the brothers Winchester are more than okay with Cami and my connection. Turns out, they’re more than familiar with that kind of connection too.
Dean molds himself to my back, pressing kisses to the side of my neck and the parts of my shoulder that are bared by my tank top. 
“Almost done? Sammy’s makin’ breakfast.”
I hum, letting him swallow me up. “Shower first?”
Ever since that very first night, Dean and I have showered together just in case the water’s cursed, and if it isn’t? Conservation. Right?
Plus, we really like giving each other orgasms.
Five minutes later...
“God damn, I love your mouth,” I sigh as water sluices over my shoulders and spirals my arms before filtering into his hair, where he’s burying his face between my thighs.
Dean’s let his hair grow lately, giving me a lot more to grab onto, not that he needs direction. (He has a beard, too, which wouldn’t normally be my thing at all, but because I know what’s under there, I’m good with it.)
He hums and licks and moans and sucks. The pressure’s always just right — never too much or not enough. I’ve never had anyone down there who knew as much about eating pussy as Dean Winchester. He’s good with his hands, his dick, and toys, too, but man, he loves giving head and is a mother fucking pro at it.
“Dean,” I gasp and flail, nearly busting through the shower curtain and toppling over the end of the claw-foot tub to my death.
Dean lunges up and hooks an arm around my hips, gathering me closer, and I explode.
“Mmm, such a good girl, Gabriela.” He licks his lips as he drags me into the tub with him. Water beats down on his back as he notches his hips in the place his face just vacated. 
I toss one calf over the back of the tub and watch Dean grip his hard dick to slip and slide along my slit. 
“Don’t tease me, Dean. Get inside.” I thrust my hips and reach for him. 
He cocks a brow, lifting my other knee to drape over the other side of the tub, punching the curtain, and slopping water onto the floor. “Honey, I ain’t teasin’; I’m goin’ easy on ya.”
“Pfft!” Now I’m panting like a dog with my ass suspended three inches above the base of the tub. “Who asked you to take it easy on me? I sure didn’t.”
Dean smirks, wrapping one big hand around one hip and steadily guiding himself inside. 
“Fuck.” I drop my head to the porcelain under me and clamp my hands around the edges of the vintage bath to take what he gives.
Every time.
Every time, he feels so perfectly hardhotsmooth, so thick, so heavy. 
And I can’t not stare because he is perfectly beautiful.
“You’re so beautiful, Gabi,” he whispers as he slides his other hand around my other hip and grinds into me.
“Uhhh!”
We both groan, and my back arches all by itself.
He tells me I’m beautiful, and sometimes it feels like a lie — not because I think he’s dishonest but because Dean Winchester is the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.
He drags out slow, and thrusts back in hard and hot, swearing before biting his lip. 
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, tossing his head back into the fall of water before looking back down at me as he blinks water out of his eyes. Then he smiles wide and bright, almost like he’s laughing. “Hold on tight.”
I never take Dean’s warnings lightly.
He sets a hard rhythm, grunting with each thrust, and I echo.
“You look so good, baby — fuck me so good.” 
Dean’s a tough guy and everything, but he loves praise. I give him pet names and tell him how smart and strong he is. I am always sure to thank him for every little thing he does to help me. And he goes fucking crazy when I praise him for fucking me right.
“Give it to me,” I breathe, clenching around him. “I love your dick... so hard and thick — please, Dean.”
I can’t pretend with him, either. No praise I ever give him is lip service. I really do love his dick.
He pitches forward, bracing his hands on the edge above my head, stretched over me like a telephone wire, and that fucking shift-
“Hooofuck, I- ahh!” 
Dean arches and grinds up against my g-spot, pinning me in place until I burst.
“Yesyesyes!” Dean beats a hand against the side of the tub in time with my pulses and throbs around him. “Fuck, honey, yes.”
And then five minutes after that...
“All I’m saying is, if you want some alone time,” Sam actually uses air quotes. “Just say so, and we won’t wait. At the kitchen table. Directly beneath your bathroom.”
Dean rolls his eyes, and Cami and I stifle corresponding giggles.
“It’s not like I personally came down here and burned the toast,” Dean pretends to make sense as he folds a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Bacon’s good.”
He looks to me for agreement, and I nod. 
“It is good bacon!” Then I look at Sam. “We’ll be quieter next time.”
Cami guffaws. “No, you won’t!”
I playfully backhand her and shrug. “Probably not, but the bacon’s still good, and I love you guys.”
Sam snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, OK, I love you, too, Gab.”
“Hey, don’t be gettin’ my girl mixed up with yours.” Dean mumbles around a mouth full of food as he stabs into his pile of fried potatoes.
I peek over at Camila and catch her looking at me. A memory flashes in my mind of pink bubbly and shivering myself to sleep and that awful fear that my sister was gone forever. Then, Camila blinks, and I’m filled with the warmth of knowing she would return to me and that we would both live happily ever after with the perfectly imperfect Winchester brothers from Lawrence, Kansas.
MJ's Master List
MJ's SPN Master List
MJ's Dean Winchester Master List
What did you think?
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theyareweird · 4 months
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Black Butler II: Claude Faustus —Aesthetic
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Claude Faustus' Character & Personality
Claude is the demon butler of the Trancy household. He's referred to as the "Spider Butler". Claude is distinctly inexpressive and apathetic. He speaks and acts emotionless as he doesn't respond to direct taunts. However, Claude is extremely knowledgeable and intelligent of his master's darkness. As a demon, He's ungenerous and selfish, having an utter lack of empathy for his master. After tasting Ciel's blood, Claude becomes obsessed with and determined to consume his soul. It's then his personality completely changes. Claude becomes sensitive, temperamental and erratic. He often acts almost randomly; dancing, making doilies and anything else. Upon taking possession of Ciel, Claude is quite overfamiliar, arrogant and forward with his actions toward him. Thus, he becomes fascinated with Ciel. Specifically, Claude admires and practically worships his person. Despite all this, it's revealed he was still obsessed with his master's soul upon smelling it.
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Skinship
Word Count: 938
Warnings: Canon-typical Violence, mentions of Child Abuse/Neglect, and Character Death
A/N: Howdy, all. We interrupt your usual Cuphead course with some Dead by Daylight! I know this a hard tonal shift from usual works, but I promised myself that I'll write more self-indulgent stuff this year. And as someone who struggles with serious motivation issues, this was a triumph in my books!
Thank you for giving my little fic a chance!!
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╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
“Soft” wasn’t a word Max got to use very often. Nor was it one he usually felt. 
Softness was reserved for the monochromatic world he saw on his pa’s television. The old-fashioned sitcoms with loving families, pearly white smiles, and the joyous laughter of children. The world where parents held their children tight while he watched from his cell, alone in the dark. 
It was reserved for the freshly laundered clothes Ma folded while she sat on the couch, ignoring the occasional rattle of her son’s chains in the other room. Her hands, milk-white with long, stick-thin fingers, always looked so small from his peephole. Easily swallowed up by pa’s shirts like a bunch of snakes wrapped in a blanket. Max had often wondered if it was as comfy as it looked; all wrapped up in clean, warm clothes. 
Not that he ever got to know. 
Then he finally broke free. 
Blood had coated his hands like hot, viscous paint as he trudged home– body heavy yet his heart alight. He silently passed the bodies of slaughtered police officers, hardly sparing them a glance as limped his way home. 
Max had found Pa closest to the porch. Mouth agape and eyes blank. Pa’s hair, once a shiny strawberry blonde, was matted with dirt, blood, and broken bits of bone. The sight was enough to bring Max to a brief pause. Then, with a low whuff through his nose, Max turned away. 
Calmly, Max limped inside– leaving the crows to caw and peck at what remained of Pa’s head.
He had been happy that he had the home to himself now. That no one was around to hurt him, insult him, or starve him like his family. That he could finally watch the TV in the living room as freely as he wanted. He no longer had to survive off scraps. 
He could finally sleep in a bed.
Time went by. The high of freedom fades away like the scent of fresh flowers; gone before he could truly savor it. He’s left behind with a house filled with bad memories. Awful, awful memories that refused to go away. 
Anger soon dug and burrowed into the squishy meat of his grey matter, consuming every moment with agony until all he could do was cry and wail. Wail and wail until broken furniture piled up around him. 
Even Pa’s old tv wasn’t enough to distract him from years of stolen childhood. The actors behind the screen with their gleaming smiles and pristine skin– were utterly free of the hell he had been forced into since birth. 
Max had shattered the screen without a second thought. Glass shards had bit and torn into his hands. He had felt blood– hot and wet– ooze out of the marred flesh of his knuckle; every movement, every twitch of his finger accompanied by a sharp sting. 
For a moment, the world was silent. 
Then a cry– shrill and high– broke the man from his stupor. A pig’s squeal. 
Max snapped. 
By the time he had come to, Max was standing over a dead hog and holding a bloodied hammer. 
He stared at the pig’s lifeless eyes, brain matter smattered against the ground. 
No. Soft isn’t a word befitting of him. Far from it. 
You, on the other hand… You were everything he wasn’t. 
Smooth, plump, and rounded cheeks that looked as soft as a peach. Eyes befitting of a baby doe, thick lashes and all. And your hands, unblemished and uncalloused, always seemed to remain clean despite the blood and grime of the fog. You reminded him faintly of the lace doilies Ma would occasionally use– delicate and pretty. 
Truly, you had no business being anywhere near him.
Yet here Max was– nestled under the sheets of his parent’s old bed (well, a copy of it at least) with you beside him. His hands nervously fist the thick quilts beneath him, pulse skipping a beat as you rest your head against his shoulder.
The pads of your fingers were feather-soft as you absentmindedly drew circles into his stomach. Each brush and stroke was slow and gentle as they quietly explored the twisted flesh beneath; curious yet tentative. All Max could do was lay as still as possible. 
He’s highly aware of his heavy, ragged breaths, a side-effect of his birth defects, and how painfully loud they were in the tiny room; of the dirt and grime that always seemed to coat his skin, as he could never wash them off thoroughly by himself; of the strange webbing of flesh between his fingers and toes. By all means, you should be disgusted by him. Not handling him as if he were made of glass–
A sudden brush against the side of his stomach startles him, pulling out a surprised, rumbly noise from his lips as he flinches. You stiffen beside him, lifting your hand as you look up at him with concerned eyes. 
“Sorry, hun. Did that hurt?” you ask. 
“No. Far from it”, Max wanted to say. It felt... Nice. He didn’t even know he could be ticklish. 
Instead, he settles for a garbled, inarticulate noise and a shake of his head. And thankfully, that’s enough for you. A smile settles on your lips. 
“Thank god. Lemme know if I ever hurt you, okay? Especially out of trials.” 
You resume your idle skinship, nuzzling into his shoulder. All Max could do is stiffly nod and let out a ragged chuff. A blanket of silence envelops the two of you once again. 
No. Soft isn’t in his routine. But he’ll fight tooth and nail if it means he gets to keep the one shred of warmth he’s ever had. 
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green-applepie · 6 months
Text
Come to My Parlor [V0re OC x Reader]
“Sit, please, make yourself comfortable,” Mr. Iider practically purred to you as stepped into the intimate room, choosing to sit in a redwood chair “We’ll be having dinner soon and we can talk business then, we’re having my personal favorite tonight. Would you like some tea in the meantime? Ms. Muffit just made fresh pot…”
Agreeing to come to this arachnid’s home was the first mistake looking back. You had wracked up a hefty debt as of late and he had invited you over to discuss some payback options. You didn’t listen when everyone said I was a horrible idea. Maybe they were just exaggerating, right? Mr. Iider seemed perfectly pleasant sitting on his plush red velvet loveseat, two of his hands currently occupied in crocheting what looked like a large doily.
You swallow nervously and nod yes, not wanting to accidentally offend “Yes, p-please…”
He smiled at you showing perfectly white teeth as an unoccupied hand offers you a steaming cup from across the small coffee table. It was perfectly warm and smelled like spiced vanilla and mint. You happily take a sip.
“Good, right?” The arachnid chuckles
“Mmmhm~”
This wasn’t bad at all! Maybe is was his voice or calm demeanor but you found yourself opening up to him; chatting about your day so far, your plans once dinner was over and the doily he was making…
“Speaking of, would you mind holding it up for me? I need to see what parts need touching up,” he asked politely, holding out two perfectly lacy corners “it’ll only take a moment and then we can have dinner,”
You hesitantly take the doily, and spread it out, the material feeling the like the sleekest satin under your fingers. This thing was massive and nearly covered you from shoulder to toe..
“Oh it’s just perfect,” Mr. Iiders purrs playing with the loose thread still in his side of the table. “and just in time for dinner too…” the voice that put you at ease minutes ago now made your blood run cold as you realized that the doily was stuck to you. You could feel all eight of his eyes staring at you hungrily
“Deadbeats are always my favorite meal~” with a little tug of that loose thread the doily tightens around you, leaving you wrapped up like a helpless bug on the living room table. You gasp feeling Mr. Iider’s warm venom-coated tongue trace up your throat “And you, my little truffle, taste just divine~…”
Those were the last words you heard before being sent to the cramped, slick, belly of your host. That’ll teach you to gamble recklessly…if you make it out alive.
//and just like The Wolf I made it a little ambiguous whether Mr. Iider is a man with spider-like qualities (six arms and some extra eyes) or if he’s a full-on spider monster
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obsidiancreates · 9 months
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Refined Bloodlust Amongst The Bourgeoisie
"Come with me! All frogs, join me! Come along, are any of you government officials? If you are, raise a hand!"
A bullywug woman sets down her quill and peers out of her window. "Why, Ribbert, it looks as though there's some sort of parade going on outside!"
"Really, Flyletta? Let me see- oh my! And what a strange creature leading the way!"
"And calling out for government officials as well, oh do you think it's finally time for the execution- I-I mean, trial by combat?"
"Surely so! Let us grab our coats and hurry out, with a being like that leading the procession we're sure to have a very exciting combat in store for us!"
"Oooooh, marvelous! I'll grab my finest doily in case we get a seat in the splash zone!"
It's not too long a walk, though Ribbert and Flyletta do hustle along. They're not able to grab splash-zone seats, much to their disappointment, but they get a good enough view with their tiny binoculars on sticks from where they sit.
"Oh, goodness, what is that?" Flyletta croaks out in disgust. "Did they put a few rabbitfolk corpses together and stick them in a referee shirt?"
Ribbert leans forward and narrows his eyes as he peers through the binoculars. "No, no I believe that must be a... a clump of old dead swamp grass that was tossed into the water for a few days. Oh, jebus, it moved!"
"It looks in pain! Do you think it's a cursed creature?"
"Oh, of course it is. But someone's given it enough Witchlight to last us a week."
"Oh. ... Oh, dear, Ribbert, do you see the combatants?! One is on fire! My, Gullup may have the most exciting reign yet!"
"But look at the other. It's just a clown! This will over in moments, do you see the size of that very red man?"
"But won't it be fun to see the clown squished into jelly beneath such a handsome man's boots?"
"Mmm... he is quite handsome. But we won't be able to see the blood on him other than his clothes."
"Oh, you and your bloody men thing. There will be plenty, I'm sure."
"Oh, they're huddling, they're huddling. It's starting soon, Flyletta wave one of the vendors over before it truly begins!"
"FROGGY'S AND TOAD PEOPLE!"
"Oh, swamp gas. We'll grab something during the show I suppose."
"Let's wait until the intermission, Ribbert, you choked last time after laughing at one of the maimings."
"Ah, good point. What would I do without you, my dear?"
"ARE YOU READY TO SEE A BLOOD BATH?"
Ribbert and Flyletta cheer with the rest of the uproarious crowd. "KILL THEM!" Flyletta calls out!
The dapper alligatorfolk nods and raises the shell to his mouth again. "ARE YOU READY TO SEE SOMETHIN' YOU AIN'T NEVER SEEN BEFORE?"
The crowd cheers again, and again Flyette calls out "KILL THEM!"
The alligator announcer nods again, and raises the shell once more. "DO YOU ALL COUNT AS WITNESS? IF SO, CHEER!"
Flyletta and Ribbert think for a moment. They hear another party doing the same, and-
"I think so."
With that one conclusion, the entire crowd erupts!
The announcer seems pleased with this and shouts, "THAT'S LEGALLY BINDING!"
"What a strange way of announcing a combat," Ribbert mutters. "... They must be from Yon."
"Oh, Ribbert, oh no." Flyletta puts her hand to her forehead and leans onto her husband. "Do you think he's asking because these two shall fight in place of Morgo?"
"What?! But that would mean only one combat! I've been awaiting Morgo's bloody execution for ages!"
"Oh, the event is ruined, Ribbert!"
"Don't worry, darling, we'll stick around until the end and protest this to whoever arranged it."
"I think the alligator must have."
"AND BEGIN!"
The whistle blows, and it, theoretically, begins. Ribbert and Flyletta are too far away to hear everything the combatants are saying, so they just watch as the clown holds out a strange gun-like object, but made of a material neither of them have ever seen before.
"Must be from Yon."
"What do you have against Yon, darling?"
"It doesn't even rhyme, that's what."
Just as Ribbert finishes talking, a great beam of multicolored light blasts out from the clown's device! Flyletta's jaw drops as the red man easily dodges out of the way, an incredible smooth rhythm to his movements as he drops his shoulder and ducks to the side! The beam shoots out into the audience to Flyletta and Ribbert's right-
"Hot dogs, getcher hot do-!"
-disintegrating the poor sap they'd failed to purchase food from earlier.
"Oh!" Flyletta almost applauds, but Ribbert stops her.
Below, they can hear some chattering of confusion about names, but Flyletta really couldn't care less, and Ribbert is just busy checking his notebook of contacts to see if the pile of ash that was one a bullywug was anyone important.
They hear the clown cackling down on the field, and see the announcer speak briefly to the referee before tossing the announcing shell to... him? It? Still unclear if it's a real creature or some horrific amalgamation of swamp trash and dark magics and witchlight.
The shell lets out a horrific screeching sound as the referee holds it up to speak! Ribbert claps his hands over Flyletta's ear holes and uses his tongue to wrap around his head and cover his own.
"ERR, Sorry! Ribble got too close to the conch!"
"SHUT UP!" Flyletta screams. "LET THEM FIGHT! SHUT UP!"
"Wait real I ha-"
"SHUT UP!"
"Ribble just has to a-"
"SHUT UP!"
"That's Mundlemud versus Sploop-"
"SHUT UP!"
He finally relinquishes the shell to the alligator, and Ribbert relinquishes Flyletta's head as well as his own as they both breathe a sigh of relief. They watch with satisfaction as the referee seems to be panicking and cowering a bit on the field after that awful interruption of ruckus.
"Getcher vuvuzelas!" another vendor calls out to Ribbert and Flyletta's left.
"Oh not those horn things," Ribbert groans. "Those ruin every eve-"
Another blast of multicolored light shoots out from the field, disintegrating the vendor and his horns.
"Oh! Good show, chap!" Ribbert calls down to the combatants, They clearly don't hear him, but it's alright.
Sploop throws his gun behind him, and as it shatters there are faint little spirits to be seen floating up from it. Flyletta applauds the macabre flavoring to this clown's weapon.
Mundlemud charges at Sploop now, lifting his giant arms and whipping the chains falling from them to restrain Sploop! It works, the clown wailing as he's captured! Mundlemud holds out his fist without even cocking it back, yanking Sploop right into the readied fist! Sploop's face quite literally sinks into the blow, his face contorting around the blow unnaturally, and he crowd roars!
Sploop vomits after, colorful circus peanuts erupting from his mouth as his head spins around like a top. Ribbert cheers loudest of all as Flyletta swoons a bit over Mundlemud's arms.
Another vendor comes down the stairs. "Bud Light, getcher Bud Light here, only sixteen gold pieces!"
"Oh, my." Flyletta frowns at the vendor. "What a rip-off!"
They hear, called out from the field in the rough, rocks-gargling voice of the referee, "That's outrageous!"
"Even that thing down there can see you're charging too much, Slimeithy!" Ribbert calls out.
Sploop vomits his circus peanuts all over Mundlemud, making the much larger and handsomer and all-around better man flinch and shield himself. Once the vomit ends there's a moment of speaking between the contestants, and suddenly Sploop pops into a mass of balloon animal pigs! But the chains are visibly red-hot, and they metl and writhe against the chains before coming back together into an also melting Sploop!
He pulls his tiny hat down over his whole body, and when it pops back up he's no longer melting. Flyletta groans in disappointment. "Oh, just when it finally getting interesting!"
"Pretzels, getcher pretzels, unsalted pretzels with avocado-based mayo! Only twenty-three gold pieces!"
"Oh, now if the clown doesn't kill that man, I will," Ribbert says, scrunching his face in disgust. "Avocado instead of beetle oil as a base? Despicable."
The clown holds his hand up, pulls another gun device from his hip, and fires one blast off before throwing it away as well. The vendor goes up in smoke, and Ribbert laughs. "As you deserved!"
The act seems to spark a small conversation, quickly turned argument, between the combatants. Mundlemud rears back his fist and punches, then spins him out and pulls him back out to punch again, over and over.
"DON'T WORRY BUDDY, I'M GONNA BEAT'CHU RIGHT BACK!" they hear Mundlemud shout.
"Is that some kind of intimidation tactic?" Flyletta wonders, leaning forward a bit. "Perhaps the clown was his friend before becoming a horrible magic clown?"
"That's nonsense, dear, 'buddy' must be an insult where they're from."
"Oh, yes, that makes much more sense, darling."
Suddenly a large barrel sits in the hands of Sploop, dark in color, and he tries to smash it over Mundlemud's head. While he succeeds, the strange small monkey's within rain down without even touching the larger man and instead begin to go after Sploop himself! A few even make their way into the stands, bullywugs screamign and hopping out of the line of fire until-
"Bloody Marys, getcher Bloody Marys here! Bloody marys with one'a those deep-fried cheeseburgers on top because WHY THE FUCK NOT?! Only forty-two gold pi- AHHHH! OH, IT HURTS! OH, I'M SCREAMING AND IT HURTS!"
The monkeys rage and screech as they kill the vendor.
"Clearly, they know how terrible the pricing has gotten as of late," Ribbert says. Flyletta nods approvingly as they watch the vendor be torn and melted.
When they look back, it seems to be the big finish. Mundlemud whips a wave through the chains, launching Sploop high up into the air! The clown laughs, even in the face of this certain doom, as Mundlemud leaps up to the same incredible heights with such air that the bullywugs themselves are awed! Mundlemud wraps his giant arms around Sploop from behind, spinning Sploop so that his head will hit the ground first, Sploop holding up a sign that even from the farthest rows clearly reads "Uh-oh!", it's all over-!
The fall seems to last forever, Mundlemud's form obscuring view of Sploop's, but the CRACK! that resounds through the arena is enough.
The whistle blows, and it's done! Mundlemud stands victorious! Flyletta and Ribbert leap to their feet, giving Mundlemud a standing applause!
"THAT'S IT FOLKS, THE CLOWN'S DEAAAD! AND HE DISINTEGRATED IMMEDIATELY, LEAVING A GOBLIN HE MUST'VE EATEN EARLIER OR SOMETHIN'!"
"I didn't know clowns eat goblins. My, this was educational and entertaining!" Flyletta exclaims, jumping a bit in place as she applauds some more.
"It's over?!"
Flyletta and Ribbert look over. "Oh, another vendor. Let's see if something happens again," Ribbert says excitedly.
"THANKS FOR COMIN'!" the announcer calls out.
The vendor looks down at his wares in a bit of panic. "Aw shit, did anyone want full cooked chicken piccata? On dinner plates?"
"What a foolish venture, those plates aren't even fine china," Flyletta sniffs in disapproval. "Who would pay even a copper?"
The vendor holds up his tray high. "CHICKEN PICCATA, HEY! HOT 'N FRESH CHICKEN PICCATA, WHO WANTS SOME?"
"Shut up, we're listening!" A bullywug in an isle seat shouts. He stands and stabs the vendor right in the back, perfectly severing the spine. Flyletta and Ribbert and many others in the area give the stabber a respectful round of applause for such a fine blow as the vendor goes down with a scream.
"Lemony... capers..."
"Well, time to head home." Flyletta takes Ribbert's hand as he helps her up. "I have to put on a new dress for Electrum Chef!"
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I wasn't honest with most of my boyfriends
I just wanted to have as much sex as possible.
I never told my mom the real reason I got my tongue pierced.
The cigarettes that weren't mine were actually mine, every time.
I’m not really okay with being alone in any sense.
I've been afraid of the dark since I was 6 years old.
I wish girls liked me more.
There is an exact ratio of coffee, cream, and sugar in every cup I drink.
Half the books I own I have never read.
I am nervous for my blood work to come back.
The countless times I have called my gynecologist in panic.
The countless times I have had to ask for help because I don’t have insurance.
He asked me when I was getting married.
The scale must be wrong.
I got so excited about a sealing wax set and an orange serving spoon at an estate sale.
The feelings I got about buying something from an estate sale.
I love crafts made by elderly women: pressed flower cards, doilies, and knit pot-holders.
I will go deeply in debt for vintage dresses that sway lightly in my closet.
I spent $192 at the Antique Mart on Broadway today: a 1960s Mod Print dress,
a 1950s solid wood bedside table, a sequins party dress.
The number of times I have to inventory our relationship before you forget where I am.
I purposefully call you when you are sleeping, so “we must have just missed each other.”
How much I would rather not do this.
How much I love doing this.
— Dolly Lemke, I never watched that movie at 12:45"
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thedietelf · 2 months
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"It had to be the fastest clothes a straight white man could think of" fighter, about previous game monk
"I'll give you advantage on your next economics vibe check" DM
"we have runes at home" witch
"you open the rune with magic so now you have magical malware" fighter
"we've retastified the nuts" fighter
"do we wanna dodge the angel exclusion zone?" warlock
"ok look at it this way: You are a Poor, Stupid Farmer. Now imagine this *gestures at ship* cones out of the sky? What is your reaction? Oh look, adventurers are here! Or, shit shit, grab thr kids we have to go!!"
"as soon as you give it self driving, it will get a recall"
"what is with this sassy child?!" "that is a full grown Kobold and he's got Game!!!"
"someone needs to go upriver and jiggle the handle a bit--" DM, about the human waste disposal of this town
"dont worry, he only takes blood from consenting individuals and it's entirely not sexual "
"theres more than 10 minutes of baby air in a 3x3 chest"
"immune to disease! paladin!! it means i can eat floor food :3"
"there's only two things red tonight. communism and blood." dhampir fighter
"would you like to build a body? would you like to build a flesh golem??"
"if you're gonna make a new car, why would you use 74 el caminos?" -DM about flesh golems
*using banishment* "The spell is called Revoke Greencard" -warlock
"hey monk, nice knockers!"
"jokes on you, im too stupid for traps!"
"you're convincing them like the cia using jumper cables and car batteries"
"so the closest ive ever been to a migrane--" -DM, on the NPCs talking to the paladin
"im not pulling your tooth out, im just wiggling it. im edging it."
"Hence picks up the gold piece--but leaves the bag." *party, in unison* "It wasn't shiny."
"not like, scottish, where it's like pale blue." -DM describing some pasty people
"a loving god would not bring vaporeon into the world" -why Pokemon aren't real
"oh dang, i forgot my testicular doily"
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