#i love my lion okay the world must know

[ravengards-rogue]

[ cage training | astarion ancunin ]

✧ tags : muzzles, bdsm, sub!astarion, gender neutral + dom!reader, reader is strong (offers to carry him), dirty talk, orgasm control, feeding (?), cutting (for blood), anal (m!recieving), service dom reader, petnames (my star for astarion) a lot of alluding to hunger, more erotica than smut but 18+

✧ wc : 4.8k (what if all just kill ourselves)

✧ a/n : i dont even like this guy like this im just mentally ill about submissive men. also this is a very "read whats on the tin and make good choices" sort of fic.. i know this kind of play might be controversial for beloved white boy but they have a very loving dynamic Okay. Alright. its about Love.

ALSO. this is ASTARION FOCUSED. so reader doesn't cum (though astarion makes up for it as implied)

this is a fluke fic i cannot recommend following me for this guy!!!written mostly for a friend. had a lot of fun with this though!!!

✧ synopsis : astarion relearns manners and discipline. he's rewarded for his valiant efforts.

He comes to you wounded. Save from the scar on the curve of his spine, it's not a physical wound.

Astarion approached you like a caged lion, a circus animal - a predator paraded like a house cat who has only just remembered his teeth. That's why your empathy extended to his greed even when it caused him to wear the worst of himself. You don't think Astarion has ever understood the fact that he's hungry. He's always hungry.

He inhabits a body pushed to failure. His hunger cues are almost as ruined as he.

Like an animal in captivity, every choice he might've had to make slipped between his fingers for many years. How to live, how to hunt. Hunger is the hardest to remember, though it leaves the longest impression. It's a condition of a wounded mind. He had long since forgotten a body that knows a need stronger than staying alive.

He always waited for the violent gnawing to set in, the kind that can be ignored until it can't.

And so, his hunger became his ruin, became his new captor. Astarion met you in the midst of that delirium the first time

Once you let a captive predator free, you've damned it. A caged lion cannot become uncaged. Survival instinct has all but degraded to nothing, leaving only a wounded animal in its place.

You must nurse it to health. Care for it as it renavigates the world.

Curb its hunger when it threatens to wreak havoc.

Sanctuary. Regiment. Retraining.

It's easy enough to discern what he needs. All tender with wounds that need to be licked.

The muzzle is fitted. A gesture of glimmering gold adoration among the steely black of whips and chains.

Astarion is beautiful. Tenfold on his knees.

The leather straps pull back slight against his skin, three in total clipped together at the back of his skull. The thickest strap flattens sweet white curls, thinner ones curved around his ears and jaw.

The structured leather cage, reinforced with metal, rests over his nose and mouth. It fits better than you could've hoped. There's a collar around his neck to match it, with a weighted chain in your hand. He's looking up at you with a softened gaze, ruby red and lidded. Needy.

The velvet of the loveseat dips comfortably under your weight as you sit. Astarion stays where he is. He's as pleasant as he's capable of being, hopeful as he scoots in closer to you.

He succeeds in acting cute, naturally talented in the art of being appealing. He scoots himself close to your legs and positions himself to rest his chin on the edge of your knee.

You meet his eyes amused. You let your hand brush along the pointed shell of his ear. Little goosebumps form in the wake of your touch.

"You should know better by now that those sorts of tricks don't work on me, hm?"

He huffs. "Well that's not true. They usually do work on you. Rather well, I would say."

You pause, taken aback, before relenting with a laugh His pout endears you. You let your eyes narrow a bit in knowing.

"Not like this though. You know that very well."

His frown deepens. You really do adore him. He taps his forehead against your leg as you bite back a smile, his muzzle making the touch briefer than he'd prefer.

"Gods. Of course I know but this, this is torture, darling."

Pleasant and noncommittal, your hand cups his nape. You pet him wherever you can reach, his head before slipping along his shoulder and against your lap. You settle at his back, tracing over raised scars.

A sorrowful hum leaves your lips. Neither of you believe it.

"Torture? Perhaps I've gotten too soft if this is torture."

"Oh you're so awful," He huffs, biting his tongue and choosing to rest against your leg in frustration for a while longer. "Sure, fine - torture is too perfunctory. But it's been terribly difficult! Where is your sympathy."

"What's difficult, Astarion?"

You're being cheeky asking him. After all your rules have been clear and reinforced well for the two tendays that have passed. You've been working hard on reteaching him patience. He used to be so patient, back when you were exploring and unsettled but you've let him take too much and now he'll interrupt you at any moment just to get what he needs.

(Astarion leans on you for guidance. Of course, he has himself - has his freedom that he took with bloodied hands and a broken heart. There’s many choices that he’s able to make for himself, some of them he can’t explain even to you. Whatever they are, they’re his to make and yours to support. 

It’s different though. Not having a choice, and someone making choices for him out of something inscrutable. You don’t bed Astarion until you fulfill the promise of killing his master. More accurately, you don’t lay so much as a hand on him. Only intimate, sparse touches. Only love. Only patience.

You’re disinterested in only having his body. His heart, and his mind, and his very soul - all of it. You want to grasp them so firmly and never let go. The chains and leashing and discipline are testament to what you want most of Astarion - and that’s all of him. You want to enrich him in every conceivable way.  Astarion deserves the granular finery of thoughtful guidance more than anyone. He's brighter when he feels special, after all. 

You’ve broken down the walls between you with a closed fist for this purpose - a not so quiet ask to love him by opening your hand. He’s given you the honor to let you think and act for him so he doesn’t have too. Duty binds you to reteaching him virtue.

It's a privilege to think for him. To wipe his bloodied mouth and care for his appearance prim and his mind sharp. No longer a matted beast but a loved, loved little vampire in the crook of your arms 

You’re not strict to no end. You'd rip the Astral Planes apart in search of what he desires, should he ask it of you, after all. 

Only the best for your immortal love. )

His neediness makes him more misbehaving. He’s been scaring away anyone who looks at you too long for business and otherwise, unable to keep his hand away from between your legs or his head in your lap. 

"Not letting me drink your blood for two tendays is unreasonable enough but on top of that," He's exasperated just explaining the dilemma to you. His muzzle is cool against your pant leg. "On top of that I'm not even allowed any relief. Despite all of your cruelty, you wicked thing. I never took you for such a sadist."

He scoffs. There's poorly masked lust in the last sentence. You stop yourself from smiling.

"Sadist? Really? I don't see it that way. Seeing you act so desperately all this time and keeping my hands neat at my sides... I'm a paragon of patience." You pull on the leash in your hand but don't pull him forward - though you tighten your grip. "It's…good to lead by example."

Excitement flashes over his face in a short burst. It's so brilliant you swear his eyes look white instead of red.

"You cheeky little—" He huffs at you. You smile warmly as he starts to curl in on himself. He already knows how to get himself what he wants. 

He gives up on pretenses. Briefly, just to beg, a monumentally hard thing. "Please. I can't take a minute more of this."

There's a croak to his voice. He has a hard time covering its tracks, even with his propensity for theatrics.

His throat is so thick with want. Something ripping at the seams of him and begging to be released.

"You've done well if it helps, but" You praise. He preens. Instantly. He squirms and wiggles around but doesn't move much more than that. "You act like I don't feed you."

"It is not the same, my love. You're well aware."

You ignore him.

"I even bring you human blood, don't I?" You tease, and his frustration darkens him. "I brought a beautiful and fresh body to drain just yesterday."

"Yes but," His hands turn to tight fists. He isn't sure what he wants to do with himself. You pet him a little more. "It's not the same, damn it. I want yours. Just yours. Just you,"

He adds the last bit quieter than the rest. Your expression is unchanged and cool though your heart might give you away with how hard it pounds.

"Just mine?" You tease. tugging at this leash a little. He makes a face like he's infuriated, a poor mask for embarrassment that endears you even more."Is that flattery?"

You're being a little mean this time. You'll make it up to him. He almost panics before he realizes just that.

"Gods you're insufferable," He complains with no bite. He's hoping for mercy you truly have no desire to give him. "You know that it's not."

"You speak so beautifully it sounds like it. Such sweet little noises you can make."

You let the heel of your boot press along Astarion's crotch. He makes one for you, involuntary - skin pink and sinful.

"See? How pretty."

Astarion is easy to bring to ruin as is. His own snark and disobedience is a poor disguise for that truth. A little tenderness and honesty makes him fall apart. Flirting back with Astarion goads him, though. Fuels his desire to win one over you. If you meet his cheekiness with more cheekiness, he won't relent at all.

Normally that kind of response would make him nip at you. It speaks to his desperation that it doesn't. That instead of making his own snarky remark, he tenses. A deep, shaky little breath. You could tip him over the edge through his clothes at this rate.

You're not so cruel. Not for today, at least.

"Sit up straight."

He does so without protest. You place a hand on his shoulder, the other one tight around the chain of his leash. Carefully, you drag your sharp nails down the front of his chest - leaving light pinkish marks on the pale skin. Over and over and over in light drags. His chest raises under the gesture, your nails scratching soft against his nipples.

"Hng," His voice is feather light. He's trembling at the slightest touch. His spine arches like he's trying to get more friction. "Don't you think you've proven your point?"

You let your palm drag down the smooth plane of his stomach, stopping at his pants. His cock twitches hard against the seam of his pants. You let a finger pull into the waistband, but don't go any farther.

"Not sure," You let the leash drop into your lap. You threaten to pull them down, but don't. Expression blank, you tilt your head to one side. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"My lesson," He repeats sarcastically. You feign innocence as you nod. "Really, darling?"

"I'm not so much of a tyrant," You let go, letting your hand cup the outline of his hard cock. "To torture you without reason, right? So what have we practiced?"

He stares. It must really be getting to him. "Patience."

"Yes. I ask you to be patient. Never kind, but patient. Because I'll give you anything you ask for if you wait. Things are better when you wait for them, right?"

He frowns in annoyance and disbelief. He's exasperated, rightfully - because you are messing with him. Just a little. "Right."

You squeeze his cock tighter. He hisses immediately, grinding into the touch. You blow hot air against his ticklish skin, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"So, have you learned your lesson?"

Your grip goes tight. Astarion craves the touch so badly. You doubt he's ever gone so long without anything at all - if the desperation he's rutting his hips with is anything to go by. His head drops heavy from his shoulders, his hands on the edge of the couch gripping for his life. Manicured nails digging into the cushion like it will save him. His voice is weary.

"Y-," He shudders but you don't let go. "Yes, I'm very sure I have."

"Oh, you're sure."

You enjoy bullying him. At a certain point, it bares itself out against all your own evading. Astarion knows it well enough, though normally it's through less truly intolerable means. Keeping him inside you soft or scraping orgasms one after another until he's too stupid too talk are favored between you.

Astarion likes being given a hard time, in general though. You're made for each other.

"Pretty little thing aren't you, my love?" You tell him, suddenly warmed. You miss the tadpole sometimes. If you could touch his mind right now, you would. Violate his thoughts with your own wants. You settle for a long stare. "So sweet,"

The anticipation makes his breath hitch. He goes completely limp in your grasp, weak and desperate. The weight of it all cracks and he looks up. His eyes glass over.

He shatters under his own need. "For the love of—please. I c-cant, I need to-"

"Shh." You quell him with a tender pet to his head. "You're looking at me so pitifully. Is it starting to be too much?"

He just nods. Your smile widens.

"You've been very patient for these two tendays, haven't you?" You lay it on thick. This is the part you like. You watch as Astarion goes boneless, the words reaching so deep into him he can do little more than collapse himself into your lap. You release all grips of him and let him hold against you soothingly, cling to your legs. "A very, very good boy for all this time. You're quite capable of it when you need to be, aren't you?"

He doesn't reply, but you can feel him melt into you further. For a minute you think you've broken him until you hear him mutter the softest yes you've ever heard.

(Astarion is not so easy to break, of course. And not so keen on opening up the softened wells of his heart to any stranger.

But he does break for you, and gods haven't you worked hard for that? It's a testament to all you've poured into him. Like you know all the right buttons to split him open tenderly.

And he lets you look. Touch and feel and cover your fingers with blood. He trusts you to stitch him closed.)

"Yes, that's right. You've learned your lesson now, and you're going to be proper and well-behaved because that's what good boys do. And Astarion is a very good boy. My very, very good boy."

He picks his head to look at you properly. He's darling. His face is flush, mouth turned into a soft pout and utterly, utterly desperate. His mouth is bitten, indented holes in soft lips.

"Yes, I'm. Please. I want you to touch me."

You aren't sure what you want to start with. He's being needy and you could almost feel guilty.

You pick up something from your side. A dagger from your days of travel. You unsheath it quickly, and let the blade cut along the tip of your middle finger. The blood comes quickly after, ruby red and thick. 

Astarion goes wide eyed. He’s hungry, so hungry - like he always is. But there’s something defeated in the ways he hesitates that make you relish. You push your finger through the cage of his muzzle and tilt your head. There’s mirth in your eyes.

“Go on,” You say, tease, mock maybe. “Eat.” 

He abandons restraint. All of it. You don’t make him work more for it. You push your finger down close enough for his mouth to lick at your wound and let your hand rest on the cage. He can’t get what he’s craving like this. The bone deep sensation starts to claw at him, a soft whimper tucked in the back of his throat.  

More. He wants more. Of course he wants more. 

“You look drunk.” You say, and there’s sharpness to your words. The ways in which Astarion is erotic have nothing to do with his theatrics. He is appealing when he’s giving up on everything but what he wants, always has been. “Have you missed it that much?” 

“Yes.” He supplements, letting his tongue run over “More.” 

You pull your hand away. “Take your clothes off.” 

You watch Astarion scramble to stand. You bring your dagger with you then reach over to the table beside you. Scented oils roll around in the drawer. You’re careful with the blade as you fish out a bottle of it, taking it in your hands. Astarion stands naked, the heavy chain of his leash brushing against his skin. 

“Kneel and lean on the couch, my love.” 

Astarion is the picture of obedience. He leans on his elbows on the couch seats, with his legs spread apart, leash in a pool next to him as he folds his arms and tucks his face. You stand on your knees behind him, admiring his back in the lowlights. 

Your hands rest on his thighs as you kiss up his spine. Small, short kisses all the way until you’ve reached the back of his neck. Your lips brush his nape, nose nudging against the metal of his muzzle. 

Something overwhelms you. Addicting, euphoric as your clothed body drapes around Astarion, free hand on his waist - moving up his stomach to toy with his nipples. It thrums through you, listening to the ragged anticipation and distraught way he moves. Against you, against everything. Aching for touch. 

You feel it overwhelmingly as you close in on his ear. Astarion huffs, long panting breaths. He needs this.

“Look at how naturally you yield to me now,” You all be coo. Astarion groans. Shuddering, your hand slides around his narrow waist and wraps a fist around his cock. He gasps. “You’ve become so pliable, so needy. But you know my star, I quite like when you’re needy.”

He hiccups and shivers and whines. “You’re the prettiest when you behave like the sweet little thing you can be, like I know you are. When you listen and yield and let me adore you in all the right ways. Such a sweet boy you can be, if only you let yourself.” 

“Darling,” His voice cracks. There’s a helpless quality to it. A little more, that’s all you need. “I — you —” 

You pull back and straighten your voice out, taking off Astarions muzzle after the valiant efforts he’s been making to wear it. It falls onto the couch unceremoniously. 

“I’m saying, well done Astarion. I’ll reward you for all that effort. I’ll slash another scar in my hand for you to drink from and then again in the evening when I’ve recovered,” You lean back on your legs as you make promises on your own words. “I’ll bleed for you until you’ve sated yourself and let you get drunk on it. Then, when you’re malleable, I’ll fuck you. Again and again and again until you’ve all but forgotten yourself. All but forgotten who exactly you behave for.” 

You open the oil and let it drip onto his back, watching mesmerized as it slips against every curve and crevice. When there’s enough to make opening him up easy, you stop and reach for your dagger.

The weapon  slashes over the same wound. You’ve done this tens of times now. You don’t let the scars heal with a potion or some kind of spell. Astarion is far from the comfort of romance, but it is its own promise. Your scar is his.

 The pain is brief, but it’s enough to feel it. You don’t flinch, though. When the blood finally seeps from it, you find yourself over Astarions back once again. 

You let your bleeding palms clamp over his mouth. It’s as close to sacred as you can forge between you. Astarion moans. It is shameless. Pitchy, high with want and utterly broken. He laps at the blood like a dog, his tongue sharp against the familiar wound. You can feel his body twitch beneath you, the muffled sounds of his voice.

There is no performance in that kind of pleasure, but the amount of arousal that spikes Astarion’s whole body never fails to surprise you. 

When he’s feeding from you, you busy your other hand with fucking him open on your fingers. Your dominant hand slips down the smooth curve of his spine, oiled skin soft and cool under your palms. He’s built like a dancer, beautiful curves. He’s a little softer now that he eats well. It looks good on him. 

You let your middle finger brush over his hole, relishing in the soft gasp he lets out as you do. Astarion’s aroused enough to accommodate you as you circle it. The tight ring of muscle is familiar, and welcoming to your touch. You don’t need to teach Astarion to breathe, don’t need to remind him of it. You can feel his whole body push along your hands as if urging you towards him. You’re too delicate about the matter for his time. 

Astarion is warmer inside than he is out. It fascinates you, makes your own stomach churn with want as your middle finger curves slowly. You pump in short motions until the resistance is all but gone. When you’ve made it as far as the knuckle of your middle finger, you start to search. You curl and press yourself against soft insides, search and search for what you’re looking for. 

Astarion lurches forward when you find it. The most pitiful little moan you’ve ever heard squeaks out from his lips, against your hand.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Right there?” 

Astarion makes noncommittal noises as you repeat the process again. Another finger, your ringer - spreading him open. Tight hole giving into your touch, filling him. Your mouth kisses the skin that you can reach. You peck and bite along the curve of his shoulders and all over his back as your ring finger penetrates him. His insides soften as you find your pace. 

You see his hands start to fidget, but you chide him before he can do it. 

“Not yet. You can touch yourself when I tell you too. Not before.” 

 Astarion needs more than this. You’ll give it to him, but patience is the virtue here. 

You don’t know how long that’s going to stick though. The way Astarion is shaking underneath doesn’t give you confidence he’s going to hold out long enough for you to take him apart like you want. You’ll give him something proper later, when he’s not so pent you think the slight brush of skin could make him cum. 

You do, desperately, want to see Astarion cum. But it has to be done the right way, or everything would go to waste in a single moment. You fuck him open on your fingers with a pinpoint pressure and accuracy, gauging his every move with the little gestures of his body. You know perfectly, know every inch of him inside and out like a book you’ve read page to page with the corners turned. The way he sways, lays intimately on the edge of cumming but never quite pushing himself over the finish line, speaks to that.

That, and the way he licks the blood from your palm like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted in his life. You can feel it, how messy it is - lapping at the split wound. Sharp unruly teeth digging into your skin, the soft breath of his nose tickling your hand as you cup his mouth. He licks so fervently, like it’s mouthwatering enough to die for. 

It doesn’t help the arousal between your legs. It’d be damning for him to know how affected you are by this. By him. 

“My beautiful boy,” Your voice is thick with desire. You can’t help yourself, the low possession laced it in. “Fucking perfect,” 

“My love,” The words muffle against your palm. You move your hand away to let him speak and his face moves instinctually to bury himself back in it. “P-please. Let me touch myself, it aches,” 

You weigh it for a minute, watching his body lurch forward as you fingerfuck him. You make a noise in the back of your throat, dropping your forehead against his spine - adrenaline making sweat drip down the crown of your head. 

“Poor thing. Aches does it? Touch yourself for me, Astarion. I want to see you make a mess.” 

He groans, hands moving immediately to fist his cock. You can hear it, the sound of him fucking his own fist like a wet, welcoming hole - cock wet and dripping with prespend. Astarions whole body starts to fall limp. His face pushed into the seat, little wet sobs spilling from his lips as he swears over and over. 

It doesn’t take any time for his body to give into the feeling of being pleasured from all angles. You feel his face nudge against your hand for blood as his muscles start to go tighter and tighter. 

“Shit,” He huffs, pushing himself back into your hands. “I’m going to cum.” 

You keep your other hand in place, pace steady. 

“Cum for me, baby. That’s it, easy does it.”

It happens so quickly you’re not sure if you should be impressed or if you should laugh affectionately. You can feel it, the way his hips stutter to a stop, his whole body grinding against you and holding tight to whatever he can cling to for purchase. His body weakens under the weight of your own, going completely tight like a bowstring before falling utterly helpless. Astarion moans loud when he cums, thick white ropes of it dressing the upholstery of the couch and falling to the floor. It’s an impressive amount. Save for what lands on the velvet, it pools thick and heavy. There’s so much, it’s like he can’t stop cumming. At least a minute passes before the twitching ceases. 

He lays there, ragged and weightless and limp. You take your hand away from his mouth and slowly ease yourself out of him as he stays and catches his breath. You press soft, warm pecks up his spine. 

You move away from him to give him some space to breathe, sitting back criss-cross on the ground. Astarion has no intention of getting up on his own, though. Before you can make sense of it, he crawls over to you. He must be worn out, given how willingly he’s coming into your arms in pure exhaustion. His cock is spent, soft against his belly and pink. He’s still naked and leashed. 

Still needy, but the lust has subsided if only a little. Astarion seats himself between your open legs. You laugh lightly, letting him rest in your side - face in the crook of your neck in utter exhaustion. 

“Hero of Baldurs Gate this, savior of the city that. I know evil when I see it, darling. Just outright cruel.” 

You break out into a laugh at the change in behavior as he pulls away to look at you. His eyes are remarkably watery. 

“That claim is undermined by that mess you’ve made on the floor there. Did you enjoy yourself?” 

He almost looks embarrassed by it, a pinkish tint turning the tips of his ears bright. 

“You’ve given me two terrible choices. I say yes and you think it’s a clever idea to do it again or I say no and I never experience whatever that was again in my life. A lose-lose situation.” 

“So you did enjoy it,” You say warmly. Astarion scoffs but doesn’t protest. “I’m glad. You’re very attractive when you’re pitiful.” 

“What despicable taste. I’m beautiful irregardless.” 

You let your head bump against his, and Astarion half-heartedly returns the gesture. “That’s true. A sight for sore eyes as they say.” 

“If you’re true to your word then I’ve earned a little more than just one,” Astarion purrs. Before that, he examines your (still bleeding hand) and picks your palm up to kiss. You grin wildy at his tongue lapping over the wound. “And you’re properly pent up, aren’t you? Let's get this cleaned up and let the real fun begin.” 

“Aren’t you insatiable today? As you wish, my prince. We can move upstairs.” 

He bemoans this. “You’ll have to drag my undead body up there if you’re asking me to get on my own two feet.” 

“Or I could carry you like a bride.” 

“A bride? How ostentatious. I’ll allow it.” Astarion says, then adds more quietly. “But we can stay… here a little longer first.” 

You hum against his skin, peppering his face with soft kisses; he doesn't turn you away from the skinship, which you’re pleased by.  “Of course my love,” 

He lays in your arms quietly and the thought reaffirms itself. You’d do anything for him.

✧ a/n : no one is more upset by the length of this than me. trust and believe this. also sorry for the yapping i just... posting this is so foreboding. it feels like that picture of spongebob who puts his hands up so a car doesn't fall on him. i am Afraid.

maybe ill write a part two of him eating box or something. we'll see. anyway thanks for reading </3. please do rb if you enjoyed. so scared to be in the tags for this.

#rogues love letters #bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate x reader #what other tags..idk.. #this fucking thing cooked me to death i hate this guy BOOO throws tomatoes at him #zeros.dr #sub astarion

[quiddie]

Okay, I see a lot of people talking about Laerryn’s work in terms of the spell Plane Shift. Now I know that’s ultimately my fault because of how I spoke about the remains of the solar bow, but that isn’t what she’s attempting.

Now let me say all this with the grain of salt that I’m not trying to remove all blame from LCS - I know who she is and what I built into her and what she’s capable of and willing to do - but I do think it’s inaccurate to call her uncaring (in terms of the citizens of Avalir) and despotic in her single-mindedness.

First, the Astral Leywright. Simply put, it builds a new leyline road through other planes. Now, Laerryn runs and maintains the engines & batteries, but she doesn’t steer the city. That’s Helmswoman Akami Rowe’s job. That’s the Navigator’s Guild’s choice. *That* is why LCS thinks of it as a gift to the city and to history - it’s an opportunity, not an obligation (or worse, a coercion like Plane Shift would be.) Yes, she’s taken a lion’s share of the energy stored for this Replenishment - but just this once (and what are 7 years to an elf, really?) and the thing she gives back is a new leyline that goes not North or East or South but OUT. (And the solar bow’s planar attunement was primarily to help the AL know the directionality of building a leyline in a new axis.) And Avalir could (not MUST) use it. Anyone can use it.

And sure, maybe the Septarion and the citizens will be too confused or scared to use it at first but that’s fine - the point wasn’t that we have to go NOW, only that this was her one chance to make the leyline at ALL (or at least until the next apogee solstice). So her thought is that the city doesn’t have to understand right now, but eventually they’ll get it and history will remember her fondly for making the road to the next big discoveries a little easier.

Keep in mind, Laerryn is one of the smartest people in the city (e1 “often the most cerebral”) that took a vital but understated job (e1 “no one understands exactly what you do to ask you for anything”) with no laurels attached (e2 her envy when walking through the Magisterium and seeing the resources allocated on their behalf vs. the Court of Workings) so if she wanted glory she could just pick a different job and immediately get the praise her talents would garner. Instead, she dedicated her life to quietly and dutifully protecting the Heart of Avalir, and expanding on the city’s mission statement (travel the leylines collecting knowledge and magic to share with the world).

With all that said, please continue raging at Laerryn’s choices because that’s fun and good and fine and honestly I love watching it. I just wanted to clear up that one fuzzy area.

#critical role #exandria unlimited #critical role spoilers #exu #cr spoilers #exu spoilers #exu calamity #laerryn coramar seelie #don’t get me wrong #she’s ambitious as fuck #but she thinks she’s doing it for the people of avalir #and the future of Exandria #and isn’t that so much worse #now that you see where it led and what she’s done #she broke the world for them. ALL OF THEM. #(but mostly for him) #and she’d do it again #because she still thinks she could win #she doesn’t know what kind of story she’s in

[heartfullofleeches]

Hiii can you please revive my dearest lovely human husband x monster reader?? I had a thought that maybe while Evan was working, monster reader decided “mmm my husband deserves a nice fresh catch for dinner” and dips???? I wanna see angsty insanity LMAO

Coming back home dragging a mountain lion or something, so innocent so sweet I love monster reader

Your alarm goes off.

Roused from slumber, you wipe drool from your chin as you strech; hunger hitting you in the same vein as consciousness. You check the clock for the time. 1pm. Lunch time.

You climb off the couch, getting out those last few nicks from the uncomfortable position. Your husband would scold you for such, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. You scurry into the kitchen, ripping the refrigerator doors open to retrieve your food. Containers for the next few days fill the compartment, separated by color coordination and times written in bold cursive. You grab the one for the current time and place it in the microwave; your stomach twisting pain from the thought of your upcoming meal alone as it starts to heat up. Roasted meat and a floral soup. That man spoiled you.

You take your spot at the table and flip through the notebook placed on it for your note of the hour.1

"Hey, Precious! Today's main course is leftovers, but I hope the soup makes up for it. I added some cauliflower because you need to eat more veggies when you're able. Love you, make sure the doors are locked and you're taking care of yourself. I'll be home by nine today because I wanted to get a little overtime in before our vacation, but I'll make it up to you this weekend."

You close the book, looking down at the band around your fourth finger. Your stomach still howls, but a different feeling takes over as you twist it around. Evan really did spoil you. Even before you became his spouse he made sure you had a proper home and were always fed. You went from eating every other week, to three meals a day plus snacks. It was small at first. You lived in a shoebox apartment and could only go out at night, but now you lived in a nice big home and the world is your oyster. There had to be something you could do in return.

Cleaning up the house and taking care of shopping was one thing, but they paled in comparison to everything he's done in your six years of partnership. Taking the first bite of your food, the idea hits you. You'll make him dinner! Not with the store brought stuff, but with meat you caught with your own two hands. He'll surely love it and it'll be the perfect start to your long week together on vacation.

You finish your meal quickly, making your escape through the backyard to avoid the public eye.

-

"One.. Two.. Three.. Okay."

Evan unlocks the last lock on your front door with a sigh of relief. You had to be careful even in the best of neighborhoods. He pushes the door - but it doesn't open all the way, blocked by a chain.

"That's still in? Normally they unlock it before I get here." He mutters to himself, raising his voice as he shouts. "Sweetie? You up? Can you open the door?"

No answer. You must be dreaming good then. Evan wedges his hand through the door and undoes the chain himself. He doesn't even take off his coat when he enters, gunning straight for your location. Seeing the couch empty raises a few flags. He told you not to sleep there, but it was always a new opportunity for another lockscreen photo.

"Muffin?" Evan ascends the stairs, gently knocking on the walls in hopes to stir you from your slumber before he reaches the bedroom. The cold steel of the knob only increases his worries which sky rocket as he opens the door; the room completely void of life.

"Y/n?.. H-honey?" The pet name comes out in a quiver. He tears the pillows and blankets from the bed as if you were hiding inside. His rain of destruction rings through the entire house as he tears it apart in search for you. He's hyperventilating by the time he reaches the kitchen, fat tears rolling down his face. He sees your dishes left on the table and his fears take over. He tries to catch his breath through his sobs, pulling at his hair and patting his face.

"Calm down. Calm down. Y/n hasn't been taken from you. They haven't left you. They're probably just, fuck-... taking a walk! Y-yeah, they're on a walk. I'll call them, and they'll hurry back as soon as they can."

Evan pulls out his phone and does what he should've when he first noticed your disappearance. There's no answer, but ever so faintly, he can hear a familiar ring. He calls again, stepping towards the backdoor. He's reluctant to open the door as your failure to answer can't mean anything good, but a soft shuffling has him damn near tearing it off its hinges. He rushes outside-

"Baby?"

Eyes reflecting the golden moonlight stare back at him. Body riddled in scrapes and bites, you hold a mountain lion by its neck in your human teeth; your lower mouth still dripping with the saliva that brought the beast to its end. You drop your catch with a look of disappointment.

"I didn't even get it in the oven before you came back...."

"Y/n!" Evan runs over and picks you up with all the strength his workouts have given him; the sting of your flowing blood null against his trained body. He kisses up a storm over your face, making sure to give both mouths at least a dozen kisses before he places you down to look at the severity of your injuries.

"Dove, look at these wounds! You could've gotten yourself killed!"

You lick the scratch closes to your shoulder, closing it with your spit. "Wanted to surprise you with dinner... So I didn't feel like I'm taking you for granted."

Tears of happiness replace those of sorrow. "Oh, sweetheart- you could never take me for granted, because I could never physically express how much you mean to me. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

You purr as he kisses your wet cheek. "I love you too."

Evan takes your hand, the grass around his feet dyed red. He laughs. "I really appreciate your hunt - but let's just order takeout for tonight."

#Evan my oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere husband #soft yandere #yandere fluff #monster reader #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n

[satellite-evans]

Back to You

Pairing: Chris Evans x wife!reader

Summary: "Souls tend to go back to who feels like home."

Word count: 1.716 words

Warnings: Fluffff, description of anxiety ( Chris has anxiety) Let me know if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope everyone is doing well. I saw Chris yesterday at the MTV award and how he didn't want to be there lmao so I wrote something about it. Hope you all love it <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any grammar mistakes. Requests and feedback are always welcome xxx

This is an 18+ Blog. I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Those were the only words that were going through Chris’ head right now. He couldn’t shake this feeling that he was too familiar with. He knew it all too well.

Anxiety.

No matter how old he was, or how many awards shows he went to, anxiety crept up his body and made him shake like a maniac. It felt like his whole body was on fire and no ocean in the world could put it out. He felt sweaty, like he ran 5 miles. But he was standing in the same place for 7 minutes. The way his heart was beating so fast felt so unhealthy to him, that he wanted to call 911 twice since he came to the awards show. But he couldn’t.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Chris asked himself the question why he came to these events all the time, but every question had the same answer : “Because you’re an actor, you meatball. You have to do this.”

It wasn’t the fan interactions he didn’t enjoy. No, those were his favorites, actually. It was the reporters and the news that came out the day after that freaked him out. What if he did something wrong? What if he didn’t look good enough? What if they started hating him?

Every what if question that possibly exists was keeping shooting at him while he stood there without protection. But one question kept bugging him constantly.

What if they disrespected you?

That’s where he drew the line. He might me a chicken without a head when it was about him, but for you he was a lion.

Now and then, a reporter ‘tries’ to talk about you with Chris. They tell him it must be hard for him you were not known in the celebrity world.

the truth was, it wasn’t. He actually loved that you were not known. It made Chris feel normal and warm inside. Knowing that he can come home to you, cuddle with you, watching a movie while you tell what happened at the office today. It felt cozy. Like home.

Your presence soothed him without a doubt. Hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. It made him feel comfortable.

Even on your wedding when he was shitting bricks. The moment he saw you, all the noise inside his brain went still. He only could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His heartbeat was so fast, it felt so unhealthy. But Chris didn’t want to call 911. Because if he died at that moment, he knew he would die as a lucky man.

He honestly wished you were with him right now, while he was repeating his most important script in his head.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He could hear the crowd cheering and screaming at whatever they saw. Chris didn’t want to hear that. The only thing that he wanted to hear right now was your voice. Your sweet, angelic voice that was better cure than any medicine that he ever took in his life. You solved every problem that he had like it was an easy math problem for children. God, he needed you so badly right now. If he had the chance, he would race home and cuddle you. But he can't. He made a promise. He has to do it.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Okay Chris, here’s your microphone and the card where that says the winner on it, you’ll be on after they show a trailer for the Lightyear movie, alright?” He simply nodded, taking the microphone and the card from the man, waiting for his time to ‘shine’. While his eyes were on the screen, he wasn’t actually watching his trailer. He was thinking about you just before he left his LA apartment. You were on the couch, wearing his Patriots hoodie, cuddling with dodger. He kissed you on the lips a couple of times. He remembers you saying that you loved him so much. He still remembers that he felt a teardrop on his cheek. He felt so lucky at that moment that you were his wife.

“Okay, Chris, you’re on!”

With the courage that was left in his body, he walked on the stage, seeing hundreds of people cheering, screaming and clapping for him. He felt his cheeks getting warmer and smiled at the love he was getting.

“Wow, that was a fun entrance. I’m honoured and excited to share all new sides of Buzz Lightyear that I know you’re all gonna love as much as I do. Movies have the power to capture our hearts. Bringing us unforgettable characters that stay with us our entire lives. They give us heroes to cheer for and inspire us the find the hero within ourselves. Here are the nominees for best movie.”

After his speech, he took a deep breath, thanking God that he didn’t mess up and that everything went smoothly so far. He watched on the screen every movie that was nominated and hoped that one day that one of his movies would be nominated too. But that was good to be true for Chris.

After his speech, he took a deep breath, thanking God that he didn’t mess up and that everything went smoothly so far. He watched on the screen every movie that was nominated and hoped that one day that one of his movies would be nominated too. But that was good to be true for Chris.

“And the golden popcorn goes to…”

He opened the card and saw SPIDERMAN NO WAY HOME written on it. He was very glad that a Marvel movie won the best movie and kept in mind to send Tom Holland a text.

“Spider man No way Home!” he said with a big smile while the crowd were screaming as loud as they could. Tom appeared on the big screen, thanking everyone while Chris looked at him proudly, seeing how much he grew as an actor. After he presented the award, he went backstage and asked his manager to give his phone back, checking if you sent a message. And just like he thought, there was a new message on his phone.

Y/N💙 :

Just watched you present the award, honey. You couldn't look more handsome. I’m genuinely proud of you! I can’t wait to see you win of those bad boys yourself. And don’t say that it’s too good to be true, honey, because you are an outstanding actor. You know you are. I love you so much. You don’t have to come directly home, you can stay at the after party ( if there is one lmao) Dodger and I will be fine. Enjoy honey, you deserve it. love you 🤍🤍🤍

Chris felt his eyes watering at your words. How were you so nice all the time? There was one place in the world where he wanted to be right now. Next to you. He didn’t care about the stupid after party or getting drunk. He only cared about you. His home.

“Nick, I’m going back to Y/N. My job is done here, okay? See you later.”

His manager was shocked hearing that he won’t attend the after party.

“You sure, man? I mean, yeah, your job is done, but we can hit the after party together. I can introduce you to some people, maybe.”

“Nah man, I would rather go home.”

So that’s what he did. After saying goodbye to his manager and some friends he saw, he stepped into his car and raced home. He drove back to you.

When he entered his apartment, he saw you eating a pizza while watching the Incredibles.

“Couldn’t control those pregnancy cravings, could ya honey?”

When you turned to look at him, he saw that there was sauce all over your chin and man that made him laugh. You never looked cuter in his eyes.

“Hey, don’t talk like you don’t know your own daughter. The girl loves to eat pizza at midnight. Speaking of, honey, what are you doing here? It thought you were staying at the after party since you didn’t answer my message back.”

He sat next to you and licked all the sauce off your chin, making you giggle.

“Nah, I would rather come back to you. And my baby girl who loves to eat pizza at midnight. Plus, I’m too old for partying now. I’m at the age where I watch Disney movies while my wife shares her pizza with me.” After hearing him say that, you took the pizza box from the coffee table away from Chris.

“I don’t recall me saying that I would share with you, honey. You can order your own pizza. This is mine.”

“Really? I thought it was my daughter’s.”

You looked at him, seeing how much he was enjoying the conversation.

“ Well, yeah, but she is inside my belly, isn’t she? So I have to eat the pizza for her. I’m performing a service for your daughter here. You should be thankful.”

He was. He was so thankful that you were his wife and the mother of his child. Never in a million years would Chris think he was lucky enough to find his soulmate. But he was, and he found that soulmate in you. No matter where he goes, he would always come back, to you.

“I am thankful honey, always.”

You felt bad that you didn’t share your pizza with him, so you offered a piece.

“Honey, no, I was just kidding. You and our baby can enjoy the pizza. I just want to enjoy watching this movie while I cuddle you.”

Seeing that he was serious, you put the pizza box back on the coffee table and snuggled close to Chris. You hugged him while he put an arm around you. You took his other hand and put in on your swollen belly, stroking it with him together.

“We love you so much, Chris.” Without taking your eyes off the screen, you said those words to him with much adoration in your voice. Chris smelled your hair, put his head on yours and kept rubbing your belly.

“I love you both so much Y/N, you do not even know. You guys are my everything. The only place I want to stay at. My home.”

#chris evans imagine #chris evans #cevans #fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #hande ercel #hande ercel fc #chris evans fic #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans drabble #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x pregnant!reader

[dwreader]

A Meal to Remember by @iwtvfanevents

Part 2: I am suddenly Megan Ellison, a wealthy lesbian, my father is a billionaire who has allowed me to start my own production company to make films I want to see. Money is no object. Here are the fics I would adapt and who I would hire (bully into) directing.

1. Reformation by verseau - first of all, I would pay $1 billion to acquire the rights outcompeting Amazon, Netflix and Apple and I would make Betsy adapt the screenplay. I maintain this must be cinematic because Ldpdl’s hole needs to be experienced in 70mm imax AND I would not allow any countries to censor like they did to Florence’s boobs. This would be like an Eternal Sunshine/Blue Valentine/Two for the Road type romantic dramedy that jumps back and forth in time to show the couple’s struggles and progression, and the non-linear storytelling means it automatically becomes an Oscar frontrunner. I would try to hire Barry Jenkins first but he is occupied with The Lion King 2 at Disney so then I would go to Mia Hansen-Love to direct. Beyoncé does the soundtrack. I didn’t even have to ask her she just wanted to.

2. Part of Your World by weathermood - I will imprison Mr. Monsterfucker himself Guillermo Del Toro until he agrees to direct this film like I am Kathy Bates in Misery. He will read it and then be like okay I agree you don’t need to kidnap me I will make this movie. We are going full Avatar 2 level budget to make sure underwater scenes are believable cause I won’t tolerate bad Aquaman CGI. The budget balloons to $400m but that’s okay cause it makes $2.7b worldwide and there’s 2 sequels greenlit immediately cause the world wants to see Louis get pregnant.

3. A Potentiality for Corruption by vampdf - Guillermo is occupied with Part of Your World and its sequels now so I turn to Robert Eggers to help bring to life this gothic horror romance. It’s 3 hours long. Parts of it are in black and white and there’s aspect ratio changes that confuse and unsettle the audience. We debut at Cannes. We get a 47 minute standing ovation but also some walkouts and fainting in the crowd because some vanilla viewers couldn’t handle the ending, which is controversial but has everyone talking.

4. Cord of Communion by themasterletters- this has now become a #1 nyt best selling novel so we have a built in audience and they want it to be a tv show cause of its length and we can’t skip out on any important points. Every streamer wants it but I choose HBO cause of the prestige factor and I’m an Emmy whore. It becomes Sunday night essential viewing replacing Succession it’s like if The Idol was actually good. I hire many talented directors such as Raine Allen Miller (Rye Lane), Francis Lee (God’s Own Country), Gina Prince Bythewood (Beyond the Lights) and I make Rolin Jones be my showrunner. We sweep the Emmys. The episode where Lestat fires Louis becomes the new Red Wedding traumatizing millions.

5. Pieta by baberainbow - When iwtv the amc show ends, I hire Paul Verhoeven to direct a standalone sequel film based on this fic. It’s as insane as you could ever imagine. The Catholic Church is mad at us. It’s condemned by the Vatican and the anti-feminization police. They’re protesting outside our premiere like they did to Benedetta. It doesn’t matter cause it just makes the film an even bigger hit.

6. Hand to God by boltcutters - first I pay Ziska $1 billion to finish writing this. Then I go back in time to 1933 first to make Hollywood not adopt the Hays Code so we can have gay and interracial stuff in movies and then to 1946 so Howard Hawks can direct this Danlou version of The Big Sleep.

PSA: some of my links aren’t working cause I’m on my phone (on vaca) so please forgive me but y’all know where these fics are don’t lie!!!

#iwtvfanevents #a meal to remember #iwtv #fic recs

[m-jelly]

Even more fun morning.

Dedicated to @ladycheesington after us talking all day on discord about a sequel to a fun morning where Erwin chases us down and punishes us for being a bit naughty.

Pairing: Tattooed!Gangster!Erwin x Reader

Genre and tags: Modern AU, gang leader Erwin, established relationship, romance, tattooed Erwin, fluff, teasing, smut, rough, oral, praise kink, aftercare.

TW: Dom Erwin, rough Erwin, light neck gripping, light manhandling, cum play, spanking.

You launched yourself from the bed and scrambled away from your lover. However, you weren't as fast as your gang leader boyfriend. You squealed in delight as he chased after you, both of you naked to the world. You felt a shiver run through you at seeing his long cock semi-hard at your teasing.

Erwin caught up to you before you could even reach the door out of the bedroom. He wrapped his big hand around your wrist and yanked you against his tall and broad frame. His other hand snaked up the front of your body slowly.

You shivered as his hand wrapped around your neck. "Erwin."

He tilted your head to the side and purred against your ear. "Naughty little kitten."

You moaned at his tone of voice, it meant he was in domination mode. "My handsome lion."

"You must be punished for your teasing and playing. You know that, right?"

You smiled as ideas filled your head. "Yes, Erwin."

He kissed the side of your ear. "Up against the wall, my kitten. Hands flat, okay?"

You shifted to the side and pressed your palms against the wall. "Yes."

He stood behind you before kicking your feet. "Spread them."

You shifted your legs apart. "Yes." You shivered as you felt excited. You purred and wiggled your bum at him. "I'm ready."

Erwin gazed at your plump bum and felt arousal burn through him. He loved how you wiggled it teasingly at him. He adored your behind so much that you often teased him with it. He rubbed your plump soft skin before colliding his palm against it. He smiled at the loud slapping noise mixed with your delicious moans filling the room.

He flicked his gaze up to your face and saw you were in heaven. He looked down at your behind and slapped it again and enjoyed how it jiggled. He chuckled as he rubbed your sore bum making you whimper at him so sweetly.

He sighed before spanking you again. "Good kitten. You purr and meow so sweetly for me." He ran his hand down your bum and softly slapped your pussy making you buck. "Oh, you liked that, huh?"

You whined. "Yes."

He softly patted your pussy and clit with his big hand. "I can feel you soaking my hand. Are you that aroused?"

You nodded as your legs shook a little. "Yes."

He ran his fingers up and down your slick slit. He played with your lips as you mewled at him wanting more attention. He moved his fingers up and down with your clit pressed in between them. He smiled as you rocked your hips against his hand in desperation for more pleasure.

He removed his hand from your clit making you whine so sweetly. He held his hard long cock and pumped his hand up and down slowly. He walked up behind you and slipped his big erection between your thighs. He slapped your pussy lips with his cock over and over.

You panted and whined as your swollen clits and lips wanted more attention than just patting. "Mm, Erwin please."

He chuckled. "Please, what?"

You dragged your nails against the wall and almost sobbed. "Please, stop teasing me."

He wrapped his hand around your neck before pulling you up a bit. "Come on, tell me."

You pressed your bum against Erwin's pelvis. "Erwin, please. I need your cock inside my pussy."

He nipped your earlobe and moaned. "So you can be a good girl."

You pouted. "Of course."

"Keep your hands on the wall for me."

You shivered. "Y-Yes."

Erwin ran his tip up and down your soaking slit. He pressed just a little into your pussy before grabbing your hips and ramming his rock in roughly. He moaned at feeling your hot wet walls wrap around his cock. He gripped your hips in his big hands and began pounding into you.

He looked down at his hips slapping roughly against your bum. He smiled at how each slap sent a giggle vibration through your plump behind. He flicked his gaze to your arched back to see a bead of sweat roll down it perfectly. He released your hips and roughly grasped your breasts in his hands and squeezed.

You dragged your nails down the wall as Erwin's cock pounded your pussy hard. Your legs shook below you as you tried to stand up on your tip toes now and then to meet Erwin's thrusts. You drooled as you moaned in pleasure at being ravaged roughly. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt consumed by bliss.

You lowered your head and looked at the floor. You blushed when you saw your arousal dripping on the floor between your legs. Your legs gave up a little causing you to collapse forwards against the wall. The side of your face pressed against it and your hot breath made the wall near your lips become heated.

Erwin grunted as he shuffled closer to you when you fell a little. He released one of your breasts and gripped your neck lightly. He panted a little as you mewled in delight. "You look so good like this. One minute you were teasing me and the next you are putty in my hands."

You glanced at him. "Erwin."

"Good girl." He pressed a little on your neck. "You wanna cum?"

You nodded as you whimpered. "Please."

"I'll make you cum, don't worry." He let your breast go and moved his fingers on your clit. He grunted when you clenched his cock hard. "That's it, let go and enjoy yourself."

You closed your eyes and moaned loudly against the wall. "Oh, f-fuck!"

Erwin grunted. "Ngh, ah, so tight."

You screamed in pleasure as your nerve endings bubbled away inside you. "Erwin!" You felt a rush go through you as your body burned. You smiled as the tingling of bliss consumed you. "Yes."

Erwin stopped his movements and dragged his cock out of you to see your cum making it shine, along with his morning load he poured into you clinging to him. He panted and stumbled back from you and admired your shaking legs, dripping pussy, quivering opening needing his cock, handprints on your bum and a happy smile.

Erwin ruffled his hair. "You look incredible."

You weakly turned around and pressed your upper back against the wall as you panted. "Mm, Erwin?"

He gulped hard as he admired you. "Yes?"

You looked down at his twitching cock. "Can I suck your cock?"

He looked down at himself. "Yeah." He held the base of his cock and moved closer. "Lick it clean."

You dropped to your knees and sat back on your thighs. "Yes!" You opened your mouth. "Mine."

Erwin placed his hand against the wall and lined his cock up with your mouth. He panted as he pushed his dick into your mouth slowly. He moved his hand up and down on his base as he watched you take him. He blushed hard when you looked up at him through your lashes and smiled a little.

He moaned when you sucked on him. He shivered as your tongue moved around his cock and lapped up all his cum and your juices clinging to him. He let his cock go and slammed his hand against the wall. He whimpered as you held his waist and cupped his balls. He shivered when you moved so softly on him.

He grunted when you guided his hips and made him buck against your slowly. He moved his hips as if he was softly making love to you. He moved his dick in and out of your mouth slowly. He gasped when you massaged his weighty balls in your palm. He clenched his fists tightly as he held back his excitement to thrust hard and deep.

He looked down at you as you gazed up at him with your cute eyes. He groaned a little. "You're mouth and pussy are incredible. You're so wonderful." He panted a little. "Damn, this is good." His cock twitched in your mouth. He gritted his teeth and fought urges. He pulled back and stumbled away. "No, I won't cum like that."

You licked your lips. "Where do you want to cum?"

He grabbed your chin and pulled you to your feet. "Deep inside you and right into your womb."

You moaned at his words. "Please."

He pressed you against the wall and purred. He kissed along your jawline and nipped your neck. He sucked hard making you release a delicious moan. He hummed when you tangled your fingers into his hair. He kissed up to your earlobe and tugged a little.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Erwin."

He gripped your waist and lifted you up and pressed you against the wall. He pried your legs apart before ramming his cock deep into you. He kissed you just as you were about to scream a moan. He wrapped your legs around him and began humping your dripping pussy.

You gripped at Erwin's back and hair as you moaned into the kiss. Your nails dragged over his back as you tugged his hair in your other hand. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt overwhelmed with pleasure. You felt like your pleasure was under Erwin's control, so you just let him ravage you.

Your tongue moved with Erwin's as you both drowned in pleasure. You shivered as you felt your coil tighten hard. Your legs shook in delight as you wiggled a little to stay in his arms. You pulled from Erwin's lips and panted heavily as he ravaged you. You whined a little as you felt the need to cum.

Erwin tapped his forehead against yours. "I love you."

You whimpered. "I love you too."

He grunted a little. "You feel so good. You're so wonderful and perfect."

You rubbed Erwin's cheek affectionately. "You're my everything."

He grinded against you and grunted. "I'm gonna cum."

You mewled. "Please, Erwin, cum inside me."

He panted against your lips. "You need to cum first."

You clenched your toes. "Mm, so close." You clenched his cock hard. "Ah!" You gasped as your coil snapped. "Erwin!"

Erwin grunted as your walls massaged his cock. "Ah, mm, ha, ah." He groaned as his cock twitched and his balls tightened. He bucked into you roughly as he poured his seed into you. "Fuck."

You shivered as you felt his warm cum enter you. "Mm, perfect."

Erwin covered your face in kisses before holding you and carrying you to bed. "You were perfect."

You blushed. "So were you."

He lay you down and lay against you. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

He smiled as he played with your hair. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm glad. I was a little rough."

You played with his messy blonde hair. "I asked for it."

He sighed. "I know, but I worry." He pulled back from you and sighed. "You're well and truly stuffed, huh?"

You moaned a little. "Yes, but I feel something."

Erwin watched as his cum leaked out of your pussy. "It's my cum."

You pouted. "Oh, no. I don't want it to leak out."

"Well, I can happily replace it." He ran his fingers up your pussy and collected his cum before pressing his fingers deep into you. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You mewled as Erwin slowly pumped his fingers into you at a teasing and loving pace. You breathlessly spoke. "Erwin mmm."

Erwin leaned over you and kissed you. "How about we finish the morning with sweet love making?"

You wrapped your arms around Erwin's neck. "Yes. I'd love to."

Erwin kissed and nipped your neck, each kiss long and loving against your skin. "You're so wonderful. You're my world, my everything, my soulmate." His hot breath danced you your skin as he sighed. "You're mine."

#erwin fluff #aot x reader smut #fanfic smut #erwin smut #commander erwin #aot erwin #shingeki no kyoujin erwin #erwin smith #erwin x y/n #erwin x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith smut #erwin smith fanfiction #erwin smith aot #jelly fanfics

[madamlaydebug]

Relationship Status: ⚠️Temporarily Closed for Spiritual Maintenance ⚠️ To some, this may seem like just one of a million spiritual memes.

To others, it may represent a very relatable point on their spiritual journey - either now or in the past.

But to me, based on where I am at in my life, it represents a sense of accomplishment.

While I am in the best emotional and Spiritual state that I have been in my life, I am still wise enough to know that inner work still needs to be done before I feel comfortable dating once again.

So, being closed for spiritual Maintenance as it pertains to dating is a huge accomplishment because I have lived my life with that door open, thinking that it was a relationship that would save me from myself.

I finally see the direction that I must go inwardly, and while it may seem overwhelming or unapproachable, I know that it is the next phase of my journey.

I am not perfect and certainly I don't claim to be.

But whether you know me through this Instagram, my podcast, or in person, you know while I have some irrational fears (mountain lions and dolphins), exposing my flaws to the world is not one of them.

In fact, I believe that being honest about who we are and where we fall short is our greatest strength.

It not only opens the door for healing ourselves but in turns helps heal the world.

The path of brutal self-awareness and honestly may not be the easiest route to take, but in my eyes, it is the only one.

So as I share with you my what feels like some of my greatest weaknesses and flaws, I do so because I know that we are ultimately not alone in our journey.

As we learn, heal and grow, we do so as a collective.

And while our suffering may feel unique, it's diminishing the barriers between us that the pave the way for true connection and healing to occur.

So today, just know that while we each have our own battles to fight

and that we still have growing and healing to do in areas that are ultimately our own

Acknowledging where healing still needs to occur is a courageous first step, no matter how small it feels.

And in some ways, there might always be a part of us that is temporarily closed for Spiritual maintenance and that is okay.

In fact I wouldn't have it any other way because I believe that healing and growth are not only a calling, but also a purpose.

So wherever your healing journey takes you, know that you are not alone.

We all travel down the same roads, just in different directions and different time.

Have a beautiful day my dears whereever your path may lead you. With love my friends❤

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

The Agony of Desire

Part 11 // Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, Smut, fingering, p in v sex, mild choking, talks of pregnancy, canon typical themes, drugging, assault, guns.

A/N: Brace for impact...

~

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

~

It's kind of annoying that good things don't last. Who designed a world like that anyway? Where you could get a taste of something so perfect, so peaceful, and so explosive. The rekindling of a lost love, the burning passion of two years of agony, the desire to stay in a blissful paradise with the one person who ever made you feel... seen.

To have it ripped from your hands without a forethought, taken by the universe with five simple words.

We have to go back.

But you didn't want to. You wanted this, here, with him and the quiet moments in between careless laughter and the shared breath of lovers before a kiss. And you wanted to grip it tightly and tell the universe to fuck off because Billy Russo was yours and nobody would ever take him away from you again.

And he sees this all written on your face when he gets the words out.

"Hey, hey, hey," he says, finding his way to you as you look down, your throat tight beyond compare, your eyes watering as you try to pretend that you're fine. His hands on your shoulders, "We'll be okay," his voice interjects, "I'll keep you safe, it's just that Kingpin needs something more from me, and then we're done. We'll be back here- or free to be in New York together- wherever you want- it's just one more thing and it'll all be over." He rambles into your ear, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him to you.

You take a deep breath, listening to his heart race in his chest.

"I don't want to lose you. I only just got you back." You sniffle.

"Oh baby," he kisses the top of your head gently, "You're not losing me. Not that easily. You told me no several times and I still kidnapped you anyway."

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh.

"When you say it like that, it makes you sound like a villain." You say in between breaths.

"I am a villain. I'm a really bad man." He confirms with a nod and you shake your head in disbelief.

Your stomach picks that moment to make a loud gurgling sound and your mouth drops open.

"Oh my god did you hear that-?"

"-I know right, what the fuck is living inside of you?" He says with mock horror in his face and you laugh, pulling him back into a hug that he returns easily.

You sway for a moment, before pulling back.

"Come, let's talk strategy over dinner." You say decidedly, pulling him toward the kitchen.

~

You're staring at his sleeping form, from your seat opposite him.

He always looks so young when he sleeps, appearing so innocent about the ways of the world, and you acknowledge that it must be his eyes that give him his age. The look in them, the weariness, the distrust, the way you can see him analysing things as they happen. It's what makes him look close to the age he always claims to be. Now though, he could pass for at least a decade younger. Billy's got eyes that have seen so much, and you just wished for one moment you could ease his burdens.

He'd explained to you last night, that some of the money hadn't gone through, that Fisk was demanding the remaining twenty million and would restart his pursuit of your family if he was not compensated. It was one thing to be hunted by the Meachums, but you would most likely never survive if they managed to put their differences aside long enough to pursue you.

It made you nervous. To be going back into the lion's den no matter how reassuring Billy was, that everything would be okay.

How could he know something like that? How was he so sure, that the minute you two landed in New York, that both groups wouldn't descend on you both and take it all away? Take what you'd just been given...

You unbuckle your seatbelt, standing, and smoothing out your black dress for a moment. Billy peeks an eye open sleepily, looking up at you as you take the few steps to him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice laced with heavy sleep, undoing his seatbelt and opening his arms for you to climb into his lap. You accept the invitation, straddling his body easily, burying your head in his chest, listening for a quiet moment to his heart, feeling fear and anxiety rise in your throat, and letting the soft scent of him calm you.

"I'm okay." You say after a little bit, "Just scared."

His arms encircle you, a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"It's easy, in and out, nothing to be afraid of."

He'd said the same thing last night, but fear, held no care for rationality. Fear's only job, was to remind you of everything you could lose.

You grip his sweater, taking a deep breath, contemplating whether to tell him what you'd almost spilled yesterday- that you loved him, beyond words, beyond reason, maybe even beyond fear.

And yet, you still couldn't figure out if you could forgive him for the last two years.

It was... strange.

To love someone so deeply and still be burdened by the weight of their actions.

Maybe that was love. Imperfect, flawed, cracked, but so blissfully warm at the same time.

The Japanese art form, Kintsugi comes to mind next, and you wonder if that was something possible for you and Billy. An object, made more beautiful after being broken.

It's what lulls you to sleep.

The comfort of broken things, and the hopes that you have the chance to put them back together.

You wake a little later when the plane shakes, you stiffen in fright and his hand is immediately on the back of your head.

"Just turbulence baby, you're okay." He soothes.

You make a little hum, crawling off his lap to give a big stretch.

He watches you carefully, and you turn to look at him in question.

"What are you doing?" You ask, wondering why he's just staring at you.

"Nothing, just... remembering." He says, giving you a sly smile.

"Creep." You say, with mock malice in your tone.

"Careful," he warns, "You'll get me hard if you keep talking like that."

You almost choke on your spit with the speed you inhale at. Holy fuck what gave him the right?

You grin when a comeback flies right into your head.

"I bet it doesn't take much to get you hard, Russo." You tease, reaching under your dress to tug your panties down your legs. You watch the muscle in his jaw pop as he clenches his teeth together, never breaking eye contact with you as you free your panties and ball them into your fist.

"I bet it just takes the right move at the right time and that big cock is all swollen and leaky, hmm?" You tease, tossing your panties at him. The soft material hits his chest.

He doesn't say a word, looking at you with amusement as you silently dare him to say something.

He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to study you a little, before he extends a hand to give two swift pats to this thigh.

Holy shit that did not just make you tingle.

"Do you want something, Russo?" You ask evenly, and his smile deepens.

Shit. He had that quiet dominance about him that made you want to get on your knees and have him fist your hair in his large hand-

Christ almighty, where did your feminism go?

"Come here." He says casually, looking away from you for a moment, as if the clouds could ever be as interesting as the little brat of a girlfriend he had, one that he knew craved a firm hand.

"Bite me." You quip.

"If I have to get up from here," He warns "You're not getting to come."

You lick your lips.

"You're bluffing. You like me too much."

When he stands, your entire body gives you a warning that you were now in danger of being punished.

"I do like you," he acknowledges, "but that's not going to stop me from teaching that bratty cunt some manners."

Oh boy.

You take a step back as he begins to approach you, adrenaline spiking in your system, but in this private jet, there really was nowhere to go.

"Lesson number one, when I say 'come here,' do you know what I expect you to do?"

You keep backing away, knowing that your space to evade him is getting smaller and smaller.

"Do I look like I give a shit?" You ask, looking back to see how much space you have left.

It's all the distraction he needs to grab you. You gasp as he pins your lower half against a seat, you wriggle your body, but can't seem to get any leverage to push him away.

"I expect you, to bring that needy little cunt to me." He says lowly, as if you haven't spoken.

"Who said I was needy?" You gasp out, between small grunts as you struggle to get away from him.

His warm hand is sliding between your thighs in the next second.

"Oh please," he says, doubling down on you, using his body to stop any hint of struggle, "We both know how hot and wet this cunt gets for me."

Your mouth drops open when his middle finger slides over your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip, going still.

"There she is," he hums in appreciation, "Just ready for me, hmm?" His finger circles your clit slowly, you feel your thighs relax involuntarily, opening up for him to take what he wants. Your head is turned to the side, avoiding his stern, but deliciously warm gaze to listen to his sultry voice.

"Say my name, baby. Tell me whose cunt this is."

You can't deny him here. Not when you're in the air flying back to your ex-fiance, you wouldn't give him any doubts about this.

"Yours, Billy." You say so softly, still avoiding his gaze.

You're rewarded with firmer circles to your clit. You hiss, tilting your head up to expose your neck to him reflexively.

You were made to be taken. And he was made to take.

"The things I want to do to you, baby, the ways I want to ruin you would probably get me arrested in some countries."

Your mind fills with all the terrible possibilities. A small moan slips from your mouth.

"You want that too, don't you? You want to give me what I want?"

You nod your head, sighing as his finger on your clit pauses for a moment, only to push into you a second later.

You gasp as his thick finger breaches your entrance, filling you and pressing right against your g-spot. You go rigid, gasping as the pleasure builds inside you, teetering on an edge that doesn't come because he then holds his hand still.

You let out a low whine and he chuckles in response, your noses bumping affectionately as if he isn't a finger deep inside you.

He makes a small movement, something of a 'come-hither' with his finger, that creates a tapping motion on that spot inside you.

Pleasure blooms from your cunt all the way up your spine, exploding in your brain, before his finger stops moving.

Your eyebrows are scrunched together, mouth parted as he torments that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Why?" He asks, as if you can remember what was being said.

"What?" You question, out of breath, as he makes a few pumps of his finger into you. You gasp, tightening your walls around his finger in a silent plea not to stop.

"Why do you want to give me what I want?"

You shiver as his thumb begins slow circles into your clit, your knees wobble.

"Because..." you trail off.

"Because?"

He stops all movement and your frustration peaks.

"Because I'm yours." You say under your breath, finally looking into his dark eyes.

Is that what he wanted to hear?

His mouth stretches into a predatory smile.

Suddenly, his finger withdraws from you. You gasp, desperate to keep him close, but your hands are unable to grab him before he's pulling away from you.

"Good. Don't forget it." He says, his back is to you as he heads back to his seat.

Oh this asshole...

The fasten seatbelt sign pings on and you huff in frustration.

You make your way back to your seat angrily, sitting down and fastening your seat belt, glaring at him the whole time.

He sits too, fastens his seatbelt, but not before giving you a good show of sucking your arousal off his finger.

Which only throws you back into the memories of his tongue, and how much he genuinely loves tasting you.

You couldn't even fathom how that was possible. How his head between your thighs, his tongue working you over could give him so much pleasure, when Ward before wouldn't even-

You suck in a breath, heart squeezing as you look at him. Really look at him.

He looks at you too, from his spot opposite, and you're not even touching, but you've never felt this connected to him. It feels like he's in your head, like you're in his, like you know everything he feels from one look at him.

Billy Russo is a part of you now, he's in your bones, running deep in your veins, and he always will be.

And from the burning look in his eyes, he feels the same way about you.

~

Your face is pressed to the bed, a little bit of drool slipping past the edge of your lips and soaking into the soft sheets as he ruts into you from behind.

There's a couple of pillows under your hips, propping your boneless body up, presenting your body for his railing.

Your eyes roll back in your head, an unintelligent sound floating past your lips and you hear him chuckle above you between forceful thrusts.

"Do you like that, baby? Does it feel good?" He asks, and you can only make another dumb sound in response.

'Feel good' was an understatement. It was more than that. If your pleasure was the big bang, he was at its center. He was the source, the fuel, the reason. All emphasised by each rough motion of his cock.

"So perfect for me, baby. So fucking perfect." He gasps, his brain short-circuiting with the abundance of pleasure.

You clench fistfuls of the sheets between your fingers, your pussy tightening around his cock, warning him that you're going to come. He grunts, hips slapping against yours loudly, his hands smoothing over your skin, scraping at the curve of your back and ass with his blunt nails.

Open and pliant below him, you whine as you're brought right to the edge.

"Gonna come so hard, hope you taste it." He grunts out, and you let out another whine, so close... so close...

But he pulls out of you at the very last second and you whine in distress. He flips you over forcefully, the pillows still haphazardly beneath you, raising your hips so that he can reenter you easily.

You gasp his name, pulling the wild strands of your hair away from your face. His hands are firm on your hips, squeezing so tightly, you think it may bruise.

"All mine. Isn't that right?" He asks.

"Mmhmmm." Is all the noise you can make.

"Only me?"

"Yes Sir." You murmur.

He pushes one of your legs up, you gasp as you feel him go deeper, a droplet of sweat trickles from his forehead, down his nose and lands on your hip. You've been going at this for a while, and you know you're going to be so sore tomorrow.

Your back arches, you were on edge again. Shallow breaths and desperate sighs and the gasp of his name and the clenching of your core and he stops again and you swear you're going to murder him.

"Stop. Fucking. Edging. Me." You gasp out angrily between breaths, and you hiss when his hand wraps around your throat tightly.

"Lose the fucking attitude, baby. You're mine and I can do what I want." He grits out.

He pulls the pillows from below you, so that you're flat on the bed, it makes a good position to cover the entirety of your body with his and then he's back inside you again.

Your ankles lock behind him as he delivers swift thrusts, one hand cups the back of your neck to pull your mouth to his.

You bury your fingernails into his back and he groans into your mouth. You want to leave evidence on his skin that you were here, below him, taking his cock inside you.

He breaks the sloppy kiss to catch a breath, but you barely let him, before you're pulling his mouth back to yours in a heated frenzy.

There it is again. You whine as you get close, your body tightening around his, begging him not to stop.

He takes the message this time, speeding up. Your teeth sink into his bottom lip, your nails grip and scratch along his skin. His cock fucking you open faster and faster until an explosion goes off in your head.

Your scream is silent. Voice too gone to make an actual sound, your body squeezes down on his cock firmly.

He grunts at the feeling, your cunt fluttering around his cock so blissfully he has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from exploding.

It doesn't work, because in the next second you adjust your head to bite down on his shoulder- and the explosion goes off inside him any way.

He fills you right up, all the way to the brim- you can both feel it. The way his spend slips out of your pussy while he's still deep inside you. Billy knows it's the hardest he's ever cum in a while.

And it's all for you.

You both pant, your skin uncomfortably hot, but unwilling to detatch your body from his. His nose brushes yours, the shared breath between you is hot as well, sweltering and likely to become uncomfortable soon.

'I love you,' you say with your eyes, and he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose in a gesture that lets you know that he loves you too.

Finally, he slips out of you, and you get your first breath of Billy-less air, and you sigh when you feel his come begin to dribble out.

You blink suddenly, realising that it's been a week since you took your last pill. You let out a shuddering breath, remembering that the last few days have just been you, being filled with his come over and over again.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing that you've been holding your breath for a little.

Your eyes flit to his concerned ones.

"Yeah...I'm okay." You answer quickly, pretending that you're not in a state of panic. Damn, when was your last period? What if you were-

"Want a bath?" He offers, and you turn to look at him. He links your fingers into his large ones, pulling them to his face to kiss the tips.

Would it be so bad?

"Yes please," you say softly, "A bath would be amazing."

He's careful. Like he always is, gentle to your body after thoroughly sating it. You lean against him, head tilted back on his chest, half asleep in the warm bath. The water makes gentle swiping sounds as he moves, raising his hand to gently trickle warm water over your neck and collabones.

"Billy," you whisper, the thoughts in your head going too wild for you to keep it in, he hums in question.

"We've never spoken about it... but... do you ever want kids?"

He pauses for a long moment. You squeeze your eyes shut, the silence is honey thick and you struggle to breathe while waiting for the answer.

"I've... never thought I could have something like that." He lets out a little laugh, "Hell, I'm probably the last person on earth that deserves that kind of life, and I definitely shouldn't be in charge of a kid, with a head as fucked as mine."

You listen intently, relating to his fears as best as possible.

"I'm not gonna tell you what you are, and what you aren't." You say, turning your head to speak against his neck, "But I know you're a fast learner, and if you wanted something, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to learn." You smile, kissing his neck, "As for deserving, there are worse people out there with families of their own. Don't judge yourself too harshly."

He makes a low hum, one that implies that he doesn't believe you, but he's not dismissing your words either.

"What about you? Do you want kids?" He asks, lips brushing your temple.

Another long moment as you think about your answer.

"It's....scary... not a simple yes or no, I'm terrified of both- having and not having." You reach to link your fingers into his, he squeezes tightly for a moment, "But it's just a little less scary with you."

The corner of his lip rises.

"I can confess one thing though," he murmurs lightly, dropping his hands to grip your hips, you gasp as his fingers press into your sore spots,

"The idea of getting you pregnant, makes me so fucking happy, I just want to fill you up all day long."

You laugh.

"You're insatiable." You comment, with a shake of your head.

"You have me this way, baby." He replies easily.

When you're almost asleep, face pressed into his chest, legs tangled together, he repeats the plan to you.

He's not going to be here when you wake, getting an early start on gathering the money he needs and assessing the meeting point for possible traps. There's a security team monitoring the hotel, so you'll be safe as long as you don't leave unnecessarily. Later tomorrow evening, he'll meet Fisk, and hand off the remaining money and he'll be back before you know it.

He kisses the top of your head and in your sleepy state, you hum something that sounds very similar to 'I love you.'

It makes Billy's heart skip a beat.

~

When you wake at around midday, he's gone as expected.

You stay in the hotel room all day, watching TV and catching up on random news, finding out what you'd missed in the little time you'd been gone.

Around six in the evening, the phone in the room rings, and you click the TV off before reaching for the receiver.

"Hello?" You answer, your heart pounding, unsure of who it might me.

It's the receptionist at the front desk who greets you on the other end.

"There's a Mr. Meachum here, requesting to speak with you." She says casually, as if you don't go rigid.

"Which Meachum?" You ask cautiously.

Ward, she tells you. Ward has found you and is waiting downstairs to speak to you.

Your heart hurts a little, remembering that the last time you were supposed to see him, you left him at the altar instead.

"Can you tell him to wait for me in the restaurant? I'll be down in ten."

She relays the message to him and confirms his acceptance to you.

You hang up, your stomach twisting into knots, the anxiety of facing him again is so strong, the worry of how you've hurt him is visceral, it makes you want to hide.

But you knew you had to face him, you knew that you had to go down there and look him in the eye and apologise for the embarrassment you caused him.

So you stand from the bed, determined to make it up to him in some way.

The elevator opens up to the restaurant on the top floor, a beautiful modern design with large windows to see the sun setting on the city.

Your heart pounds, smiling at the waitress and giving her your information.

You spot Ward, sitting alone at a table for two, sipping on a drink.

He stands when he sees you approaching.

He takes you into a hug when you get close enough, and you allow it, though it's not your favourite feeling.

"I'm so glad to see you're okay." He says, as his arms tighten around you, and you smile.

"I'm glad you're okay too."

You smile at him when you pull away.

"I hope it's alright that I ordered a drink for you," he says, pointing at the fruity drink on your side of the table.

You not at him in appreciation, sliding into your seat, and taking a small sip of the concoction. It's something slightly sour, and you appreciate the flavours.

He takes his seat as well.

There's a moment of silence.

"When you didn't-"

"I'm so sorry that I-"

A pause, filled with shared smiles.

He nods his head, silently indicating for you to speak first.

"I really meant to show up. It- It wasn't my intention to leave you there. I'm sorry if I hurt you in anyway, or made you look... bad, but, in the end, marrying you- it- well- I-" You give him a sad smile, trying to find the words, "I realised it wasn't something that I wanted. I'm sorry for that."

His face is stoic, all harsh lines and even breaths. He nods, sweeping a hand through his hair.

"When you didn't show up at the church, I knew something went wrong. But I was hoping, that it was just jitters, I waited there for hours. And then I found out that you'd disappeared. I spent the last week combing the world for you, hoping you didn't leave me there without a word."

You take another long sip of your drink before speaking.

"I- well- Billy paid my debt and got me out. But it's a good thing too, because- Harold- he tried to have my parents killed."

"That's not true." Ward immediately says, and you look up into his eyes.

You can see it now, something around the edges, something about his appearance is... off. He isn't as put together as he'd like to seem, and you feel like he's a spool about to be unravelled.

Too bad you didn't owe him a single thing.

"I trust Billy with my life." You say firmly, "He told me that Harold tried to kill my parents. They would have died if Billy hadn't gotten them out."

He grips the edges of the table, leaning closer.

"And you believe him? My father was about to pay off your family's entire debt- and you believe some low-level scum like Billy Russo?"

"Ward." You say his name in warning, letting him know you don't appreciate his words or his tone.

He blinks, catching himself, realising that his words have rubbed you the wrong way.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "But, Russo has always had his own interests first. He lied to you, he told you he paid off the debt, and he didn't, he told you that my father tried to harm your family, and that was a lie too."

You bite down on the corner of your lip, deep in thought.

"What does he have to gain from lying?" You ask Ward quietly, afraid of the answer. You lean back, taking another casual sip as if his words will have no effect on you.

"You might not realise it, but your family name has a lot of weight. Even though it's been dragged through the mud in the last couple of years, a combination of our families opens a lot of doors."

You swallow.

"A combination of our families? By that, you mean that fancy clause in our contract to have me pregnant within the year?"

He blinks, "Y/N-"

"-No." You say, "No, I'm sorry Ward, but I think I've heard enough." Your drink hits the table with a quiet sound, "Billy might not be honest with me, but at least I know he wants me for me, and not for whoever's last name I'm carrying." You stand from your seat and he stands too.

"I'm sorry, please, wait." He says, taking a step, reaching for you slowly, but you dodge his hold, walking away from him with a muttered 'Goodbye.'

He doesn't follow.

The emotions are a mess in your head and it sticks in your throat, there's a permanent frown on your face as tears spring to your eyes.

You don't understand why, though. You wish someone would take your brain out, map it, and show you exactly why you felt like crying your eyes out.

Maybe they'd circle a spot, "This is where your trust issues come from," point to another spot while saying, "Your low self worth comes from your body image issues, only reinforced by the fact that your family almost sold you to make babies and look pretty for the rest of your life."

You press your face into your hands, letting out a muffled sob.

You no longer knew what to believe, who to trust but at least you were sure of one thing.

Regardless of his motives, regardless of any lie he's told you, Billy loved you. And he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.

You couldn't wait for him to come back to you, so that maybe you could forgive him for the lies he's told, and admonish him for the lies he would tell in the future.

You smile, shaking your head. No, you couldn't settle for being lied to, no matter how strongly you felt for him.

You begin to feel a little sleepy as the elevator doors open, yawning as you begin to make your way to your room. Your vision swims for a second and you frown, wondering why you feel so tired all of a sudden.

Were you drugged?

You sway, the panic setting in, and your first priority is making it back to your room.

You're at your door when someone calls your name. You look up in surprise, hoping that it's Billy- but it's not- it's Ward, making purposeful strides toward you.

"Ward?" You say confused, squinting at him as your body sags against the door.

He grips your shoulders forcefully, and you try to push at him.

"I think I've been drugged." You murmur, looking into his face, pleading for his help.

"You have." He says ominously and you whimper, realising that it's been him all along.

"Why?" You ask, your knees buckling as your body is forced to relax against your will. You feel so sleepy, you fight to keep your eyes open, pushing at him. Why won't he budge? Your fingers reach up to claw at his cheeks but your hands won't cooperate.

"Why?" He says, and you think he finally shows you his unravelling.

"Because I was promised a wife. And I will have one."

It's the last thing you hear before your vision goes dark.

~

His footsteps echo in the church as he steps in. There are candelabras scattered around the area, he counts them as he counts the pews. He also counts the number of people that are sitting with their heads bowed, praying, and the number of exits.

He sees the back of the marine's head, walking with purposeful steps to him. The marine doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge his presence, doesn't move as he slides into the seat beside him.

He's sure that the marine has counted the same things he has, made a similar assessment of the safety of the surroundings, maybe even knows the approximate number of steps it would take to get to the back exit if the situation requires it.

"Mister Fisk appreciates your cooperation, and sends his regards for not being here in person." He says.

Billy Russo turns to give him a blank stare.

"I suppose everything can't go the way I want," he says.

James Wesley smiles.

"I suppose not." He responds.

~

You wake with a groan, your head is swimming, packed with cotton, preventing you from forming a thought.

Where? What? How?

You can't find any answers.

Another deep breath and you open your eyes a little.

Your vision is blurry at first, but you recognise the surroundings of a hotel room, just not your hotel room.

You're lying on the bed, pressed against someone who is petting your hair softly.

You sit up suddenly in shock, swaying as you turn to look at the person. Something else draws your attention at the same time, and you look down to find that your hands have been cuffed together. You tug at them experimentally.

"Just in time," Ward says, sitting up, and you squint at him, trying to figure out exactly where everything went south.

"You drugged me." You say to him accusingly.

"Yes. I did." He acknowledges, sitting up easily.

He's changed into something different, a dark tuxedo with a black bow tie around his neck.

"Do you like it?" He asks, looking down at the suit, "It's the exact same one I was wearing the first time. I tried to get you the same dress, but I got something that was easier for you to get into by yourself.

He stands, and you just look at him, eyes following his movements as he grabs a garment bag lying over the small couch. He unzips the bag, tugging a wedding dress free.

You can't focus on any of the details of the dress- not the beading or the neckline, in your hazy state  none of it makes sense to you.

"Put it on." Ward says.

"No." You answer.

"I'm not asking." He tosses the dress beside you on the bed.

"I'm still not putting that on." You struggle to say something witty with such a cloudy head.

He takes a step forward, and you scramble back, slipping off the bed and backing away from him on shaky feet. When you try to get to the door, he intercepts your move- pressing you back against the wall.

"I don't have time for this." He says angrily and you seethe along with him.

"Fuck you." You spit at him.

The slap is sudden. You barely register the sound of it, your head is turned to the side, as your cheek screams in pain.

Did he really just hit you?

"I can't believe I ever defended you." You whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

"Karen once suggested you might hurt me, and I told her you weren't like that."

You raise your hand to touch your stinging cheek, it's tender and hot to the touch.

"You'd be mad too, if you were left at the altar to be laughed at by the entire city."

You swallow, looking up at him, fully awake now with the pain and adrenaline coursing through your system.

"You're delusional." You whisper with conviction.

"And you're not getting it. If you don't put that dress on, then I have no use for you." He leans forward, getting into your space and you grimace with disgust at the feel of his body pressed to yours.

"Do you know what I do with useless things, Y/N? I throw them away."

You wish for his death when your eyes meet his next. He smiles, raising a hand to cup your face, his fingers pressing painfully into the spot where he hit you. You don't make a sound, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your pain.

"Get dressed." He says, stepping away from you finally.

~

James Wesley is appraising the contents of the briefcase for authenticity when the church doors open, and several footsteps can be heard.

Billy doesn't look back, he'd anticipated a move like this. And honestly, it might be exactly what he needs to get his plan back into action.

Harold Meachum steps into his peripherals. James closes the briefcase, looking up at said man, knowing James, there's only vague curiosity painted on his features.

"Sorry to interrupt your business, boys, but I have business of my own I'd like to take care of."

Billy is just, downright tired of looking at Harold's face, bored with this man's entire endeavour into making himself more powerful when he can hardly manage the power he currently holds.

"James, would you please call Mr. Fisk and tell him that is audience is requested?"

James doesn't hesitate.

"My apologies, Harold, but Mr. Fisk does not deal-" he pauses his sentence when Harold draws a gun, pointing it at James' head.

There's a moment of tense silence.

"Very well." Wesley says, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.

Billy listens to half of the conversation, unable to hear any of Fisk's responses. James lets him know that an urgent matter has arisen that requires his presence, and that Harold Meachum will not accept no for an answer.

When James ends the call, he informs that Wilson will be here within the hour.

"Excellent!" Harold says, reaching to take the briefcase seated on James' lap, "That's just enough time to have a wedding in the meantime."

Billy's stomach drops.

It drops even lower when he sees the younger Meachum, Ward, step up to the altar.

"Now, if either of you move from here, the man sitting behind you is going to shoot you in the head."

Billy turns to look at the man. One of Meachum's bodyguards sitting in the pew behind, he's large, maybe even larger than Frank, which means he's probably slower. A mistake on Harold's part to have this man guard him. The other five or six people that were here before are being shuffled into the other room.

He watches a priest, step up slowly to the altar, he raises his hands, and then the doors at the back open with a slow groan.

Billy almost doesn't want to look. He knows what he's going to see. It fills him with murderous rage. He watches Ward's smug face instead, a man that looks like he's already won, as an unwilling bride walks down the aisle toward him.

He knows when he sees you there, the shock, and rage and fear of it all with sear like lightning down his skin.

Billy waits until the very last moment to turn and look at you.

He can't see much of your face, covered by the thick veil, but he can see the tremble of your hands as you hold the bouquet and Billy decides, that he's going to wipe the Meachum line off the face of the earth.

.

.

.

A/N: Heeyyyyyy guyssssssss, how are we doing?

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the agony of desire #ben barnes #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher

[abbatoirablaze]

Princess & Bunny, Chapter 2

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  taboo relationships, manipulation.

“What the fuck are they doing here?”

“Language young lady,” Linda Thrombey frowned.  Bunny took a deep breath as her stepbrother stood awkwardly on the front porch while they pulled up the driveway, “and if you must know, I told Ransom and a few of his friends to come get you and your sister.”

“Oh, is that Hughie?” Princess asked excitedly, already sitting forward in her seat until she’d had a view of her stepbrother.  Bunny frowned, crossing her arms, “Come on, Bunny, cheer up.  Hughie never did anything to you and you always treat him so rotten.”

“You’re really excited to see him?” she scowled, “especially after we just dropped Kingston off at grandpa Harlans?”

“About Kingston…Ransom’s friends don’t know anything about…that incident…and I’d prefer that neither one of you bring it up!”

“Oh…” Princess frowned, “o-okay.”

“I just think it’s for the best,” Linda said quickly, “I mean, we know that Ransom is the boy’s father, but we don’t want to put him in that kind of awkward situation with his friends, now do we?  You’re his stepsister, Bunny…mate or not, the rest of the world won’t see it as a good thing.”

“N-no…I guess not,” she frowned, sitting back in her seat, “a-am I allowed to talk about Kingston at all?”

“You shouldn’t!” Bunny said firmly, shooting her sister a look over her shoulder, “for all of spring break we are just two high school seniors forced to hang out with her stepbrother and his weird frat brothers.”

“I think they’re nice!”

“You think everyone is nice!  You are far too trusting, my little Princess,” Linda sighed, putting the car into park, “come on…let’s just get this show on the road.”

But Princess was already halfway out of the car; the 18-year-old panther quickly making her way towards Ransom, “Hughie!”

“Cece!” the normally stoic and sarcastic man smiled, catching her as she launched herself into his arms, “god I missed you.”

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply.  She began purring wildly as she nuzzled her face against his.  A few of his friends looked at one another, taken back by the fact that he just scented his stepsister.

“And you think this is a good idea?” Bunny scoffed, shooting her stepmother a look, “we’ll be lucky if by the end of this, she doesn’t end up with another cub.”

“And what about you?” Linda asked, raising her brow at the young woman, “I saw the way that you were eyeing up that panther in the back.  The boy with the dark hair and those steely eyes.”

Bunny blushed, her scent tinging ever so slightly from being called out by Linda, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, no?” she asked, “then what about the blonde lion who stood near him?  Or the bulky looking wolf in the corner?  Thinking of going from a big cat to a dog?”

Bunny shifted in her spot, “I-I’ve never so much as kissed anyone, mother…wh-why are you asking me these things?”

“Be careful is all I’m saying,” she shrugged, “I ended up with Ransom’s father so quickly…I was young.  Inexperienced.  I thought I knew the world, much like you.  But I didn’t know anything.  I don’t want you making the same mistakes that I did.”

“Ransom…”

“I love my son…but I know what he is,” she said sadly, “had I not been so trusting of the world, I would not have had him…I just want you to be prepared, Bunny.  I’m protecting you.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, “You’re not just testing my boundaries?”

“Do you think that you need to be tested?”

“What happens if I do?”

“I think that you and your sister are in need of being tested before you go to college,” she admitted with a firm look, “and I think now is a good start to that.  You are a smart girl, Bunny…I don’t think that you’ll make the same mistakes that I did.”

“This is it!”

Bunny frowned as she looked around the large living room that she’d been in only weeks before.  And while her sister was excitedly following her stepbrother into the house, she stood in the same room, not wanting to go further into it.

“You know…you can’t just stand there for the whole two weeks you’re going to be here…people might start to confuse you with a coat rack if you do.”

Bunny nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned around.  The confidence was practically rolling off the lithe man in droves.  She’d recognized him from the first time she was in the house, but she didn’t know his name. 

He leaned forward ever so slightly, his nostrils flaring while he took in her scent, and a low rumble started in his chest, “you smell phenomenal, pretty kitty…do you have claws or are you just looking for a reason to purr?”

Despite the way his voice was affecting her, making her want to do nothing but scent him back, she hissed.  The man smirked, taking a step back.

“Johnny, leave her the hell alone!”

He held up his hands, as though he was innocent, “I’m not doing anything…just seeing if the kitty has claws.”

“She does…and she’ll fuck you up,” Ransom warned.  He shot his stepsister a look and she gave him an appreciative nod, “Come on, Bunny…let me show you the third floor where you and Princess will be staying.”

She nodded, quickly following behind Ransom.  He’d gone up the first set of stairs, and from her spot on the landing, Bunny could see Princess impatiently waiting on the third floor, “come on, guys.”

“We’re coming,” Ransom chuckled, making his way towards Princess, “god, Cece, you’re impatient as ever.”

She giggled, attaching herself back to Ransom’s side as he joined her, “or I just want you to show me every bit of this place.  I’m so excited Hughie.  Linda never let us see you.  She alw-“

“You know exactly why that is, Princess!” Bunny scowled, cutting her excitable sister off, “now stop being stupid.”

“Hey,” Ransom growled, glaring at Bunny, “stop being mean to her…you know, not everyone has a stick up their ass about everything all the time like you do, Bunny!”

“I’m just excited…Linda never lets us go anywhere!” Princess said sadly, “It-it’s always home, or the publishing company…or her real estate business…or Harlans…I just-“

“Hey…hey…” Ransom said quickly, cutting her off, “it’s okay, Princess.  Bunny’s just being a pain.  You  know how she is sometimes…it’s nothing new.  And we’ve always dealt with it before…and we have each other again, now.”

“Yeah…” she agreed, sniffling at Ransom.  He was quick to wipe away the tears before they fell down her cheeks, “she’s not sweet to me like you are, Hughie…”

Bunny rolled her eyes, “Whatever…where are we sleeping?  I want to put my stuff down somewhere!”

“I want to stay in Hughie’s room!” Princess said quickly, turning all of her attention back to the alpha, “please, say I can stay in your room with you, Hughie.  Pretty please.  Please!  Ple-“

“If that’s what you want!” he said quickly, already caving in to her doe eyes, “I-we were going to have you girls stay in one of the spare rooms on the top floor so the guys don’t bug you as much.  But if you want to stay with me, Princess…”

“Of course I do, Hughie!” she giggled, pressing herself tightly against Ransom and wrapping her arms around his neck, “oh this is going to be the best two weeks ever.  It’ll be just like when you lived at home…”&

“Does anyone else think that Ransom’s stepsisters are a little…”

“Odd?” Jake Jensen voiced.  His eyes trailed towards the stairs.  He knew that a while ago, Ransom had taken them upstairs to show them the room they’d be staying in. 

A few of the guys chattered around the coffee table as they sipped on their beers and watched the game that was going on.  Some nodded along, agreeing on how they noticed Ransom was acting, and how the sisters were responding.

“The one is just…all over him!  Did anyone else think that was weird?”

“And he scented her when we got them!”

“What?”  

“And the other acts like she hates him…”

“Maybe she does?”

Bucky glared at Johnny, “she seems like she’s pretty smart…the one that wasn’t clinging to Drysdale…maybe there’s a reason she hates him…ever think of that?  Probably has something to do with how much of a creep he was being with her sister.”

“Because Drysdale is a dick!”

“No, Buck is right.  I think.  The other one is all over him!” Steve repeated, his confusion leaking through the exclamation, “they’re too close for even stepsiblings.”

“Maybe that’s why she hates him!” Johnny pointed out as he finally realized what the two were saying.  He used his tongue and pressed it to the inside of his cheek, “big step bro playing hide the pickle with her twin and not her…”

“God, why do you have to be so disgusting, Johnny!” Jake groaned, “that’s his stepsister.”

“Steve and Bucky said it first!”

“You guys…that’s not what you were saying, was it?”

Bucky shrugged, “it’s what it looks like!”

“I’m sorry, those twins are hot,” Johnny began, “if they were my sisters, step or not, I’m gladly doing whatever position they ask.  I know you don’t get much action, Jensen, but the one looks like she just lives to please…imagine her beneat-”

“Come on, man.  That’s gross!”

“Maybe Storm is right,” one of the other panthers agreed, “she really is all over him while the other one hates him.”

“Jealousy?”

“I mean the one that hangs off him-that one seems pretty stupid,” one of the guys laughed, “Maybe the grumpy bitch just hates him because he’s all over her and the ditz is too stupid to realize it.”

“My sister isn’t a ditz,” a feminine voice replied all too quickly.  The guys tore their eyes from the game to see Bunny in a pair of sweatpants and a crop top tee.  Instantly regret laced their scents.  She inhaled, and sneered, “you guys have one thing right though…I do fucking hate Ransom…and I hate all of you too…you self-righteous, self-serving pricks.”

“We-“

“Save it,” she spat, glaring at Jake, “the least you ingrates could do is make sure that one of the people you’re talking about isn’t in the god damned kitchen making food.”

“Is Ran-“

“Princess wanted to see the campus,” she said firmly, shaking her head at the question, “you’re lucky that Ransom took her out before your little game started…if he heard you talking about Princess like that, he’d personally gut each and everyone of you.”

“You won’t tell him, will you?”

Her eyes snapped to Buckys, “I may hate that asshole, but I don’t hate Princess…she thinks the world of you pricks already, and I’m not going to be the one to disillusion her to that.”

Chapter 3

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown

#princess & bunny #ransom drysdale #hugh ransom drysdale #knives out au #a/b/o #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o fic

[kyanitedragon]

Touken Playlist

“I’ll See You Later, Okay?”

Porcelain Face - 4 Door Theatre (“they call me the kid with the cardboard face / pencil a smile or frown then erase”)

Hunger - Of Monsters and Men (“i can be the wolf, and when you’re starving you’ll need it too”)

I Think It’s Arrogance - Set It Off (“another view might show you what your problem is / i think it's arrogance”)

True Love - P!nk (“i hate you so much i think it must be true love”)

Who Knew - P!nk (“if someone said three years from now you’d be long gone / i’d stand up and punch them out / cuz they’re all wrong”)

World So Cold - Three Days Grace (“living in a world so cold / counting the days, since you’ve gone away from me”)

Here Without You - 3 Doors Down (“i’m here without you baby, but you’re still on my lonely mind”)

Please Don’t Leave Me - P!nk (“i can be so mean when i wanna be / i can cut you into pieces, when my heart is broken”)

Nothing To Lose But You - Three Days Grace (“you’re the best and the worst / because you know all my secrets / all my demons / and you keep ‘em in check”)

My Life Would Suck Without You - Kelly Clarkson (“i know that i’ve got issues / but you’re pretty messed up too”)

He’s Not Yours - Beth Crowley (“what would you do if i came right out said ‘i swear i won’t fuck it up this time around’?”)

Love Me or Leave Me - Three Days Grace (“too many times i’ve been left behind”)

Vacant - Echos (“i'm sick of awaiting your vacancy / i hope that you choke on your vacant teeth / no space in your broken veins left for me / i know that you're empty”)

Chemicals Collide - The Impulsive (“i can't undo what you did to me / now we know that chemicals collide”)

Monster - Gabbie Hanna (“they're droppin' like flies whenever i'm around / so used to goodbyes there's comfort in the sound")

ドーナツボール (Donut Hole) - Kenshi Yonezu (“try one more time, a hundred times / all I remember is your face”)

Miss Missing You - Fall Out Boy (“the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger”)

How You Remind Me - Nickelback (“it’s not like you to say sorry / i was waiting on a different story”)

Strange Days - Three Days Grace (“all i have is right here and now / so we’ll make this moment last forever / and if we go, we go together”)

Young Blood - Bea Miller (“but in dark times when we close our eyes / It's a nightmare, it's a nightmare / when the sun don't shine we lose our minds / but I swear, we can get there”)

Fire on Fire - Sam Smith (“fire on fire would normally kill us, but this much desire, together we’re winners”)

Silence - Marshmello & Khalid (“i’m in need of a savior, but i’m not asking for favors / my whole life, i’ve felt like a burden”)

Lover. Fighter. - SVRCINA (“we were called into battle / and all of it shattered / but i’m aiming high not to lose you”)

Katharis - Dima Lancaster (“it has to be me! it can’t be me!”)

Katharsis - TK from Ling tosite sigure (“i will miss you, i will miss you”)

I Choose You - Sara Bareilles (“tell the world that we finally got it all right / i choose you”)

King - Lauren Aquilina (“there's so much more, you can reclaim your crown / you're in control, rid of the monsters inside your head / put all your faults to bed, you can be king again”)

Paint Me Black - Ben Hazlewood (“i won't hide from you”)

King and Lionheart - Of Monsters and Men (“you’re my king and I’m your lion-heart”)

#tokyo ghoul #touken #touka kirishima #kaneki ken #tg #tg playlists

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane Chapter Two

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Parings: Quinn Fabray x G!P Reader / eventual Natasha x G!P Reader

Warnings: Smut in this chapter!

A/N: Let me know what you think 😅

Avenger Lane

Chapter Two: Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'

Not my gifs

“How about I help you unpack and you put things where you want them? That way it’ll be done by the time Quinn comes back.”

“If you really wanna spend your time unpacking then fine.” You laughed.

“I’m not spending time unpacking, I'm spending time getting to know my new neighbor.” She winked.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“You’ve done a lot so far!” Natasha smiled looking around at the work you and your wife have done.

“Yeah, but to be far a lot of this is brand new. The furniture delivered bright and early.”

“You two have excellent taste in decor.”

“Thank you, but it’s really Quinn’s taste.”

“Does it matter which box or which room?” Natasha asked, gesturing towards the boxes.

“Let’s go to Quinn's office first. I have a surprise for her that I wanna get out of the way before she goes in there again.” You chuckled running over to the kitchen sink taking a black bag out. Before gesturing for the redhead to follow you upstairs.

“What’s the surprise?” She found herself asking.

“I may or may not have made her customized bobbleheads of us.” You snickered placing the back on the new desk that came in that morning. 

Natasha chuckled watching you carefully place the bobble heads below her monitor. “Your daughter's bobbleheads are adorable.” She pointed.

“Right?” You chuckled.

Natasha lifted a box on to the desk cutting through the packing tape,

You connected your phone to the speaker system you had set up earlier. You quickly settled on an 80s playlist before opening up a box as well.

“Wow, you have a first edition of The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe?” 

“I got it for Quinn for one of our anniversaries. It's her favorite book. She loves reading. That’s actually sort of her job. She works at a publishing house.” You smiled proudly. She worked her ass off to climb her way to the very top. You take the stack of books she finishes admiring, placing them on the shelf as she makes another stack. 

“That sounds pretty amazing. Being able to read things before they come out?!”

“Big reader?” You grinned as you lifted a hammer to place a nail in the wall Quinn had asked you to build her a shelf. Needless to say a few days before you built her a shelf. Now it’s time to connect it to the wall.

“Of course!”

“What’s your favorite book?” You ask as you hang the shelf. 

“That's a really hard and broad question.” She muttered pausing her movements to see you hammering the shelf in before starting the next one.

“Okay favorite classic?”

“Catcher and the Rye.” She muses. “You?”

“To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Truthfully I love noir and spy novels. I like to think I would have made an excellent spy.”

“I’m more of a fantasy sci fi type of reader.”

“What house are you in?” She grinned gesturing towards the photo of you Quinn and Beth at Harry Potter World. 

“Gryffindor.” You blushed. “I tested it 3 times, got Gryffindor 2 times and Slytherin once. Quinn is Ravenclaw.” You say setting her framed degree on the shelf.  

“Makes sense since I see she graduated from Yale.” Natasha smirked pointing at the degree you set down.

“What house are you in?”

“Guess.” She smirked.

“Red hair? And a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley!” You say using your best Draco impression. “Gryffindor?”

She laughed as she set the sorted books on the shelf. “Nope.”

“I’m… wrong?” You gasped. “Let me think.” You bite your lip really looking at Natasha. “Slytherin!” You yelled as if you were the hat.

She chordled covering her mouth before going back to unpacking while you put things away. Conversing as you both worked. You learned her favorite color is forest green, but it’s actually your favorite color Blue. She isn't as into music as you are, but she’s a huge film buff. She says she never tried acting, but that she did model for Victoria's Secret and a few other luxury brands before she was married. (You’re definitely googling her later.) She has a younger sister named Yelena who is currently going to college with Clint's daughter Kate. You learn Clint actually lives just across the street from Natasha. He and his wife and kids are currently visiting his parents back in Iowa. She tells you that Clint and his wife are her best friends besides Wanda. 

“How does one even knock down a bell in a tower?” You chuckled while putting away books. Apparently Yelena and Kate are thick as thieves, and quite the troublemakers.

“I honestly still don’t understand how, but they found a way.” She laughed.

“How did they not get expelled?”

“Truthfully? Clint and I had to buy a new bell for the tower.” She huffed.

“That sucks! I don't know what I would do if Beth did something like that.” You chuckled knocking on wood. “I'm not really looking forward to her teenage years. Lord knows I was a menace to society.”

“You were a menace?” She chuckled.

“Oh yeah.” You chuckled.

“What was the craziest thing you did.”

“Oof, let me think…” you placed a finger on your chin. “Ooh! Okay once this annoying guy joined our glee club back in high school. He tried to take my spot on the team, and he kept hitting on Quinn. So I told him he had a free record deal. Idiot, why would anyone believe that? Anyway I got him a one way ticket to Los Angeles.”

“You sent him to another state for hitting on your wife?!” She laughed.

“No you don’t get it. He was an asshole. He tried to turn the team against me, glee club against me and my wife. I wasn’t letting some rich brat steal my life away.”

Natasha raised her brow smirking at you like that’s not an excuse.

“Eh he was fine!” You waved her off. “Plus he never messed with Quinn again and he ended up moving to South Korea.”

“So you’re the jealous type? I wouldn’t have suspected it.” She chuckled.

“What? No. No. Just didn’t like him kissing my baby mama.”

She laughed.

“What’s the craziest thing a man has done for you? I feel like you have a ton of stories.” You grinned. “You’re husband sounds like a big guy. BRUCE.” you gruffed hitting your chest.

She laughed, shaking her head. “No.” She laughed out before trying to compose her laughter. “Bruce has a temper at times but he’s not a man's man if that makes sense? And no one has done anything quite like that for me.” She admits before opening another box.

“What?” You furrow your brows. “You’re telling me no one has ever fought over you?”

“What is this medieval times?” She chuckled.

“I just find it hard to believe that no one has ever fought over you, I mean you’re gorgeous.” You bite the inside of your lip hoping she wouldn’t find that weird.

The redhead feels her cheeks heat up. “I was hit on a lot and asked out a lot. Especially during my modeling days. Sometimes even still when I’m with Bruce, but he’s not a fighter.”

“So you’re saying sometimes when you’re out with Bruce you get hit on and he just… let’s it happen?”

“Well…What would you do?” She questioned you.

“I mean it happens a lot to us as well. Then again she also gets majorly turned on when I put someone in their place after they hit on her.”

“Give me an example.” She smirked.

“Okay well if it’s innocent I usually just-“ you walked over next to her and placed your arm around her waist. “Pull her a little closer like this. Smile at the jerkoff and say ‘Ahh’ that usually works, but if they’re an asshole and want to keep hitting on her then she says something that usually ends up with them crying.”

“Has it ever gotten physical?”

“Once. His name was Noah Puckerman, we were sort of friends at one point. He said he was in love with Quinn. She said she didn’t feel the same way. He really thought Quinn had feelings for him. Anyway we were at a party and he just walked up to Quinn and kissed her. She slapped him, but the weirdo wouldn’t let go. So I sucker punched him in the ear. Now I don’t condone sucker punching anyone, but when someone is kissing my girl and she wants them off of her?”

“He didn’t let her go, I probably would have done the same thing. Truthfully I would have broken his nose.” Natasha shrugged. “What happened after?”

“Well he got knocked out after that; a few days later he dropped out of high school and ended up going to jail for stealing an ATM. Last I heard he’s living in Florida trying to make it as a DJ.”

“So was he the only guy you fought with?”

“Uhhhh… no.” You chuckled. “Like I said I was a menace as a teenager.”

“Did Quinn ever fight someone over you?”

“Oh yeah.” You chuckled. You both finished up in her office before heading downstairs. You both grabbed a box right as Journey flowed through the speakers.

“Oh no!” Natasha grimaced after opening another box.

“Uh Oh what’s wrong?” You chuckled.

“It looks like a frame broke.” Natasha gently lifted the frame, setting it on top of the trash can lid.

“Oh.” You muttered seeing an old photo of you and Finn after the state championship.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t be it’s not your fault.” You laughed taking the photo out examining it.

“You played football?” Natasha asked, surprised.

“Why the tone of surprise? I told you that guy tried to steal my spot on the team.” You smirked teasing the redhead.

“I thought you meant your glee club. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of girls playing American football.”

“American football.” You chuckled. “It’s just football you’re in America.” You joked; nudging her.

“I’m not American.” She quirked her brow with a smirk of her own. “Football means soccer to me.”

“Get out.” You laughed.

“I’m Russian.” She grinned.

“How long did you live there?”

“On and off throughout my life. It's kind of a long, depressing story.”

“Where in America did you move to?”

“Ohio.” She smiled.

“What town in Ohio?”

“Hamilton.” She smiled thinking back.

“Lima.” You grinned.

“That’s not that far away!” She beamed.

“I feel like we even played you guys once or twice.” You furrow your brow thinking.

Natasha smiles at the crinkle on your forehead as you try to remember.

“So who's this tall drink of water?” She chuckled pointing to the photo still in your hand.

“He was my best friend; Finn Hudson.” You smiled sadly hearing the song he would always sing playing in the background. “Joined the army right after high school. He died in action.” 

“I’m-I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shake your head. “It was a long time ago. Quinn and I named Finley after him. He was a good guy. Always had my back.” You smile looking down at you and Finn making your best game faces.

“So what made you want to be a football player?” She asked to pull you from memory lane.

“Actually I only joined to impress a certain blonde cheerleader.” You smirked lifting an old squad photo of Quinn Brittany and Santana.

“Let me guess she ruled the school?” She grinned, seeing the three hot cheerleaders smiling at the camera.

“Oh yeah everyone called them the unholy trinity.” You snickered. “I noticed her on the first day of freshman year. Her mother had dropped her off and she was wearing this yellow sundress. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.” You chuckled, placing the photo of you and Finn on the coffee table. You’ll grab a new frame later. “Anyway I tried to go and speak to her during lunch that first day.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “One of the teachers was getting their ass kicked by the cheerleading coach, and she didn’t even look up once. The bell rang and she left and I never got to talk to her. It wasn’t until I saw her join the Cheerios that I joined the football team. Santana had told me she only dates football players.”

“You joined a rough sport for love?” She laughed.

“Hey I got the girl in the end so it was worth getting banged up and concussed.” You grinned, making her laugh. Your phone began ringing, lifting it up to your ear. “Sup baby mama.”

“We just grabbed some food and we’re heading back to the house.” Quinn spoke ignoring the greeting she hates.

“Sweet love you, see you soon.”

“I love you too, bye!”

“Good thing we’re on the last box.” Natasha grins, patting the box.

“Phew.” You chuckled, wiping non existent sweat from your forehead.

You let her finish that up as you get ready to feed Ollie.

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Quinn walked in with your friends laughing with food in their hands.

“Oh wow you finished all those boxes?!” Quinn beamed.

“I had some help from a neighbor.” You grinned nodding towards Natasha.

“Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.” Quinn said, setting the food on the table. Santana leaned over towards Kurt whispering as low as she could. “How much you wanna bet that she doesn’t appreciate it?” 

Kurt and Santana snickered, earning a glare from Quinn.

“Stay for lunch?” Quinn smiled. “I mean you made us brownies and helped us unpack. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense you’re not intruding.” You grinned. “Natasha this is-”

“Kurt Hummel, I work for Vogue and my God you are the epitome of gorgeous. I’m more than sure you were on the cover of Japan’s issue of Vogue back what 6 years ago?”

“Spot on Kurt that was me.” Natasha chuckled lightly. 

“I’m sorry, but what are you doing in the burbs?” Kurt grimaced.

“Honey. Excuse my husband, he forgets some people like peace and quiet. Blaine Anderson.” 

Soon you were all sitting around the dining table drinking beer and eating pizza. While the two boys were talking Natasha’s ear off about couture and her modeling days.

“She’s a model. Why am I not surprised?” Quinn quipped as she grabbed another beer for you and herself. She watched as Natasha threw her head back laughing at something Kurt said.

“Probably because she looks like that.” you chuckled as Quinn glared at you.

“You have got to model my line.” Kurt begged.

“Honey. Please stop.” Blaine laughed.

“I haven’t modeled in years.” Natasha shook her head laughing.

“Oh please it’s like riding a bike. Just hop right in front of the camera and get back on that catwalk girl.”

“Maybe.” She bit her lip.

“I’m making a look just for you and you’ll have to say yes.” Kurt winked.

“So Natasha, who is this man you left your modeling career for?” Blaine asked with a smirk.

“His name is Bruce Banner, he's a scientist who is currently in Zurich right now giving a lecture.”

“That’s interesting.” Blaine nodded.

“A model marrying a scientist. You definitely flipped the script with that.” Quinn chuckled.

“When does he come back?” Kurt asked, sipping his hard seltzer.

“In a few weeks it’s a major conference and he’s also working alongside another scientist for a project at the moment so there’s really no set date.”

“That's a long time.” Quinn furrowed her brows looking down at her pizza. There’s no way she’d be away from you for that long. No way she could be away more than a week, maybe two max.

“It’s his dream.” she shrugs as if to say ‘who am I to stand in the way of it’.

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“Today was so long.” Quinn sighed leaning her head back on your shoulder. Letting the hot water relax her muscles humming along to The soft tunes of Al Green that flowed from the speakers.

“Hmhm.” You hummed kissing her shoulder. “I’m glad we got the spa tub.” The blonde hummed, sending vibrations to your heart. You sighed against the back of her neck before peppering her with soft kisses.

“Natasha seems nice.” She arched her brow, a small smirk playing on her lips. 

“She’s very nice.” You continue kissing and massaging your wife trying to get her to relax so she could maybe give you the goods.

“Oh I know you think so.”

You eyed the droplets running down her breasts when you were brought out of your sexy time thoughts.

“Wait…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you think she’s sexy and I know for a fact she’s into you.”

“Quinn not this. Not with our new neighbor we just met.” You whined.

“I’m not upset. She’s a very beautiful woman. Gorgeous even.” She shrugged. “She knows how to toe the line. I'll give her that.” She huffed.

“Quinn, Natasha is not into me. She is married just like you, and just like me. She has a husband.”

“Hm one that she barely mentions or sees.”

“What do you mean she barely sees him? We’ve known her for a day.”

“Think about it. She brushed off any questions about him.”

“It’s our first night here.” You chuckled.

“I’m just saying her husband seems to be MIA consistently if she just doesn’t care that he’s gone with no set date of returning. She also mentioned that this block is close.”

“And?”

“Annnd it would explain why she’s taken a liking to you. You haven’t met her husband but the this whole block has.”

“You’re reaching. It’s our first night. Can we not?”

“Fine.” Quinn sighed, relaxing against your front.

“Remind me to thank your sister for taking the girls.” 

“It’s nice.” Quinn nodded as you wrapped your arms around her. She turned her head meeting your lips.

“God, you're so sexy.” You muttered running your hands down her body as she rocks into your cock. “How about we take advantage of our empty nest.”

“Christening our new home?” Quinn smirked.

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Natasha was reading when she noticed your light in your bedroom flick on. You and Quinn were laughing. When suddenly you spun her around lifting her up against you. Kissing her before laying her on the bed. 

The redhead gasped as you let your robe slide off your body. She gasped seeing all of you for the first time. You were exactly as she pictured tan skin, and muscles rippling throughout your body. What really caught her eye was your dick.

Women with appendages were a rare gem. She knew of only one other woman that had one and that was Val. She only knew because Carol told them one night. She kind of figured you had one when you mentioned your daughters.

You grabbed Quinn’s legs, spreading them as you line yourself up.

“Fuck.” She watches your lips mouth the word as you throw your head back.

Natasha feels a pool between her legs. She gasped as you noticed your curtains were open. You quickly move over closing them not noticing the light coming from Natasha’s lamp next door.

“Shit.” Natasha sighed at the slickness beneath her folds. She couldn’t help but grab her vibrator. She felt almost guilty thinking of you as she touched herself. She had only just met you, but everything in her was telling her to jump your bones.

“Fuck Y/N.” She whispers, closing her eyes as she pictures you on your knees in front of her.

‘Damn babe you’re soaked.’

“Hmm for you.” She husked, dipping inside of herself before turning on her vibrator. She moaned, imagining your tongue touching her clit instead of the only thing that’s been giving her any sort of pleasure. She sighed going back into her imagination.

‘You taste like heaven, I bet you feel like it too.’

“Yes please I need you inside me.” She husked thinking of your long cock she saw enter Quinn.

‘Fuck you do feel like heaven. Oh Natasha.’

“Oh Y/N you feel so good!” She whimpered imagining you plowing into her making her take all your weight. 

‘You sound so close already, baby girl.’

“I’m so close, don't stop!” She moaned imagining your cock pumping in and out of her. “Oh fuck Y/N!”

‘Oh Natasha! Oh baby you feel amazing I’m gonna-‘

She moaned loudly as she came undone thinking of you as she twitched beneath her vibrator

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You slowly made a move to get out of bed when your wife clutched onto you.

“You’re not seriously working out after yesterday are you? Come baby it’s our first morning in our new home.” She snuggled into you.

“Quinn, I ate like a ton of food. Satan is right, I'm gonna get flabby.”

“She was joking with you. She still calls me tubbers.” She smiled, eyes still refusing to open.

“I’m wide awake, I'm going for a jog.” You say getting up hearing your wife sigh.

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Natasha sat with her mug of coffee and a book. She loved watching the sunrise. She heard your door shut looking over to see you stretching. Her activities from last night coming to her mind. She blushed, clenching her thighs together. All you did was walk out the house and she’s already wet for you. She whined at the uncomfortable throb between her legs as she watched you stretch. Your body was a temple and she wanted to worship it.

You waved with a sweet grin; nodding to her as you jogged by. She waved back, eyeing the way your cock outlined your shorts as you ran. She huffed at the pool between her legs going back inside to relieve herself. 

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She was in the middle of thinking of you while touching herself when you strolled into your room. Her breath hitched as you slowly took off your workout shirt that clung to your body. She licked her lips seeing your abs flex as you took off your socks and shorts. She bit her lip with a whimper as you took your briefs off. You were so big, even flaccid.

You looked in the mirror standing near the window as you flexed your arms and abs. “That’s it.” You smirked seeing your abs pop out a bit. “Keep it toight.” You barked.

“Stop looking at yourself and take a shower you stink!” Quinn laughed hearing you barking like a jock.

You took your shower forgetting your clothes, you stepped out a towel loosely hung on your hips.

Your wife came behind you taking the towel off.

“Hmm you smell good.” She hummed kissing your back.

“Hmm the better to lure you with my dear.” You smirked and quickly brought her up. Her legs automatically hook around you. 

“Beth and Finley will be here this afternoon.”

“So we have time.” You smiled leaning down to take her lips with yours. 

“Hmm Y/N.” She whimpered, letting you gain access to her neck. “Make love to me.” She whispered.

“Quinn.” You groaned feeling blood rush to your penis.

“Take your time with me.” She spoke softly, taking her shirt off. “Fuck me slowly.”

“Mmm..” You twitched as you felt her take your bottom lip in her mouth. You hummed laying her down on the bed before kissing down from her neck to the valley of her breasts. Her breathing became rapid. Your fingers worked her shorts down her legs along with her soaked panties.

“Ohhhh God that feels so good.” She moaned, feeling no warning before your tongue was tasting her.

Meanwhile just next door Natasha was once again watching you and your wife. She moaned, closing her eyes, picturing herself in Quinn’s shoes. 

She opened her eyes. She must have had them closed for a while cause now Quinn’s head was bobbing against you. 

You hissed pushing Quinn back on the bed letting your cock flop out of her mouth. You spread her legs meeting her in the middle of the bed. You gathered her wetness on your member before slowly inserting yourself.

“Oh Y/N!” Quinn moaned, bringing your neck down to kiss you. You were pumping in and out slowly. Every once in a while trying a different angle. 

“Quinn” You breathed out.

“What baby?” She husked.

“Get on top.” You grinned seeing her smirk.

You laid down as she got on top of you rubbing against your hardened member letting her juices lather on you before sinking down on your cock.

“You always fill me up so well.” She sighed before moving up and down on just the tip of you before going all the way down again.

“Shit Quinn.” You groaned watching her rhythm speed up. You sat up helping her motions.

“Fuck I’m gonna-” Quinn moaned loudly as you laid her down and began pumping in and out with more speed. Her mouth formed that familiar ‘O’ before she was shaking beneath you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck don’t stop!”

“That’s it, love let go.” You grunted as you pounded into her; her nails scratching down your back.

“Oh baby.” She moaned with a smile on her face. “Fuck that was good.”

“Oh I’m not done with you yet we still have a couple hours.” You smirked before rocking your hips. Your cock was still rock hard and her cunt was still throbbing for more. She moaned against your lips. 

Natasha sighed guilt washing over her after her euphoric orgasm ended. She wasn’t going to watch you anymore. She stood on shaky legs closing the curtains as you and Quinn began round two.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

#quinn fabray #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #Quinn fabray x reader #Quinn fabray x you #Quinn fabray x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

[missnobodymadness]

15, 2 and 9 for the "love your fandom" ask game maybe? :D

Hiii,

Sorry for taking so long but I only now had some time to come back to Tumblr. ^^' It was such an amazing surprise to come back and see your ask on my inbox, thank you sooo much. ♥

Alright, let's gooo!

"2 - a headcanon you weren’t sure about at first but have come to like!"

Since I can't really remember any AOT headcanon that would fit this question, I am going with the The Lion King fandom for this one, I hope that's okay. xD

At first I wasn't so sure because color wise they don't remind him that much, but I really started liking the headcanon where most of Zira's lionesses are actually Scar's daugthers, it would make some sense for him to keep trying to get a strong male heir that would look like him, considering that he chose Kovu exactly for that same reason, so they'd pretty much be failed attempts at getting the perfect heir and that's why they have the famous outlander nose and a thinner body type even after the final scene where they were already part of Simba's pride and were certainly not starving anymore. If we stop to take a look at Simba's lionesses on that scene we can also see that some have very similar colors to the outlanders, could they be their mothers? Who knows.

"9 - a ship that isn’t your OTP but that you enjoy"

Gonna get killed for this but...I kinda like Jean x Mikasa from AOT. I just don't want her to stay alone and sad forever, people can recover, people can fall in love again and Jean would probably be the only one willing to wait for her, we've seen how dedicated he can be to the ones he loves, of course it would take time, maybe years, but I don't see why it couldn't happen, in my opinion he is just what she'd need to feel better again. I don't think the ship invalidates Eren x Mikasa at all, they can happen at different times during the timeline.

"15 - the character that always makes you smile"

This one was hard for me and I decided that I can't decide between Hange Zoe and Anya Forger, they are both comfort characters of mine and as such are always able to make me smile, their energy is so contagious and it really makes wanna cry when Hange gets overly excited about things. T-T Anya is just too cute and precious for this world, I love her and must protect her from the world. T-T

#fandom asks #fandom game #aot #the lion king #spy x family

[atherix]

New au?👀👀

-🍂

HI I AM GOING TO COPY-PASTE EVERYTHING I WROTE TO BELLE WHEN I FIRST GOT THIS IDEA.

So quick background, Secondhand Lions is a movie about a boy who gets sent to his filthy rich great uncles for the summer by his mother who wants him to find the money, and one of the uncles tells him a story about their history/youth and they end up bonding with him and in the end the mother does the right thing for once and lets him stay, it's a great movie that admittedly has its... moments... that definitely Date™ it but it is to this day among one of my favorite movies.

Of course this wouldn't follow that like. At all. Except maybe vaguely. Just bear with me. Below the cut bc this is LONG. Keep in mind it's from DMs so it might be a little everywhere but ya know-

so anyway. Secondhand Lions but with Mumscarian.

The past; Grian, Scar and Mumbo were a team, an Avian, an Elf and a Totally Normal Guy™️. They were involved in a lot of stuff from the time of when they were young. Grian and Mumbo were childhood friends, grew up in the same village and everything, and were teens when they got dragged into war by the Mad King's attack on their village. They got involved in the fight and ended up on an adventure across the world, where they ended up meeting Scar who was, technically, part of the Mad King's court. They got him to switch sides and together, with allies, they defeated the Mad King and continued onto adventures, getting involved in the wars and civil uprisings they came across and basically liberating people everywhere. Of course, over this time, they fell madly in love with each other.

Unfortunately, as the years pass, Scar began to notice he himself wasn't changing at all- because he was an Elf. Grian and Mumbo had grown into men well into their 20s and 30s and saying Scar looked a day over 20 would be generous; he's an Elf, and Elves live for hundreds of years. Their aging significantly slows down the older they are, and it brings Scar to realize that he is going to greatly outlive the two men he loves. And, of course, the older Grian and Mumbo look, the more side-eyeing they receive when seen with Scar- and the more hostile/distant people become, the less welcome they are. Cue a series of misunderstandings, miscommunication and feelings of "I'm holding him back" from everyone, they end up splitting up. Grian and Mumbo stick together, of course, while Scar sets off on his own.

Cut to a hundred years later, into modern times; Scar thinks Mumbo and Grian are long dead, meanwhile Mumbo's Totally Normal Guy™️ syndrome has kicked into Eldritch mode and neither he nor Grian knows what happened but they're both still alive. They don't seek Scar out as they believe he must have moved on by now, and have settled down in the middle of nowhere in an old house with more money than they know what to do with.

Tubbo is 14 years old. He's Scar's son- I haven't decided yet if he's an adopted little faun/dryad or maybe Scar's bio Elf son in this world, but he's Scar's son and is being raised by Scar alone (no other parent in the picture, either abandoned or a result of a one night stand). Tommy is his best friend, and after the death of his older brother Tommy is being raised by his late brother's best friend, Schlatt (yeep). Schlatt is sending Tommy to live with his "uncle" for the summer (Grian being Phil's great great something great uncle) in the hopes of Tommy finding where Grian and Mumbo keep their money hidden. Tommy doesn't want to go but asks Tubbo to come with him since he's not being given a choice, and hesitantly Scar gives his permission (Tubbo argues it'll be just like summer camp, it's okay!) but on the condition that Tubbo writes him once a week.

Tommy and Tubbo get there, and though Grian and Mumbo are like- 40 max (in appearance), they live basically like they did a hundred years ago; no television, no internet, no phone service. Mumbo has his redstone devices, which Tubbo is fascinated by, and Grian has his flying course, which Tommy is enthralled with (Tommy is also an Avian), to entertain themselves. They also have communicators that only work with each other (Scar has one, too, but it's been in storage for decades at this point and he wouldn't even know if they did send him a message). Grian and Mumbo have no fucking clue how to entertain children and do a lot of age-inappropriate stuff (as in giving Tommy and Tubbo crossbows and letting them run wild in a training course they have in the back field, rather than handing them starter bows with soft-tip practice arrows and strict supervision lol).

Over this visit, Mumbo begins to tell the boys a story when they catch Grian in one of his Moods™️, where he's kind of stalking around the perimeter of their home and gazing out into the distance, as if searching for something. Mumbo explains that sometimes, Grian gets antsy and becomes very aware they're missing a member of their flock. He tells the story little by little- the story of adventure and friendship and love and the cruelty of time and people, but he uses the name he used to know Scar by which Tubbo doesn't recognize. As such Tubbo doesn't think to write about it in his letters to Scar.

Tommy convinces them to start buying shit with their money and they end up buying a lot of crazy shit, including some kind of beast I'm undecided about. Not a Warden ofc bc wardens are wardens, but some kind of hostile beast that Tubbo, with his general Faeness (either faun, dryad or elf jkfdsjk), manages to tame. Ofc he writes to Scar about all of this, and honestly Scar gets a little freaked out- what kind of sane people buy a hostile creature?? (Well. He knows at least one person who would have, but… he's been dead for so long….) He starts arranging things at his Aqua Town shop to go and check in on Tubbo.

Tommy and Tubbo have grown fond of Mumbo and Grian, thinking they're weird but in an endearing sort of way. Some shit happens with some of the locals in town but Grian and Mumbo deal with it, Tommy gets a letter from Schlatt giving him instructions on what to do when he finds the money, Tubbo is having fun taking care of his new pet, and in general things begin ramping up. Mumbo reaches the end of the story, where Scar chose to leave, and Tubbo questions why they just let him walk away (not knowing this was a century ago), which is when Grian finally cuts into the story and tells the teens that he and Mumbo are older than either of their grandparents, and Scar has long since moved on and mourned them as dead. Tubbo of course argues that they should have tried anyway, because if he's been mourning them and they're still here then how is that fair, if they still love him after all this time then what if he still loves them?? (Tubbo, thinking about his own father, who sometimes hints at having something he'd loved and lost once upon a time, choices he made that he regrets, things he wishes he could take back….)

Well, Schlatt shows up when Tommy's stopped answering his letters, and he's got a Plan™️. He starts to manipulate the townspeople and spreads rumors about Mumbo and Grian, and tries to get into Tommy's head, manipulating him and Tubbo (if Tubbo is adopted, this would be the moment he'd find out Schlatt is his bio father. If Tubbo is Scar's biologically then obviously not, bc I do not want to consider Scar and Schlatt having a kid together lmaoooo-)

Tubbo is kind of overwhelmed by everything happening now, between Schlatt and discovering he's currently staying with century-old Eldritch creature(s), and of course in his distress he turns to Scar. He runs off to town, borrowing a fancy shmancy communicator/phone and calling the shop. Unfortunately, Scar has already headed out by now, so the phone is answered by Cub, Scar's "right hand man" at the shop. Cub tells Tubbo Scar is probably halfway there already and all he has to do is wait.

Now, with his father out of reach, Tubbo thinks it's time to do the next best thing; tell Grian and Mumbo about what Schlatt is doing/planning. However, Tubbo and Tommy are both notoriously bad liars and Schlatt finds out. Tommy has by this point found the money but is keeping his silence, and Schlatt realizes when Tommy talks himself in a circle that Tommy knows where it is, so Schlatt- knowing the one thing Tommy really cares about is his bestie- decides to use Tubbo against him, threatening to hurt/kill Tubbo to get Tommy to comply (and, in the meantime, stopping Tubbo from telling Mumbo and Grian, who Schlatt has absolutely NO CHANCE at beating. Well, no chance at beating Grian, at least).

Scar shows up as Tommy is leading Schlatt (and Tubbo) to the money, and obviously there's a huge "what the fuck" moment when he comes face to face with Grian and Mumbo- which is quickly overshadowed by the whole "where are the kids" situation going on. Grian and Mumbo are shocked to discover Scar is Tubbo's dad (and in typical Misunderstanding fashion, assume this means they were right that Scar moved on), but don't have time to dwell on it when Scar insists the boys are in trouble, Tubbo had written to him about some of the very concerning things Schlatt was saying/doing and he doesn't think Schlatt should be left alone with the boys.

Of course like in Secondhand Lions, Tubbo's little beast friend saves the day, attacking Schlatt and giving Tubbo and Tommy the chance to run away at the cost of its own life. They meet up with Grian, Mumbo and Scar, and Tubbo has never been so relieved to see his dad. Grian goes to find Schlatt, who is already injured, while Scar and Mumbo check over the boys. In the end, of course Schlatt is defeated and is sent off with the parting warning that if they ever see him again they will kill him, and that he's lucky the creature got to him before they did.

Mumbo questions why Tubbo never mentioned he was Scar's son, and Tubbo says he didn't think it was important- which is when he finds out Scar was the third person from that story all along

Ultimately, of course, the story ends with Tommy wanting to stay with Mumbo and Grian, and Tubbo pushing for Scar and them to talk about everything that happened in the past and what was actually going on through their heads, and what they really felt and thought about it all. There's no immediate getting back together of course, but they do talk about it and stay in contact when Scar and Tubbo return to Aqua Town.

The epilogue is like 5 years later and ofc Mumscarian is back together and Tubbo and Scar have moved in and the property is just full of increasingly ridiculous shit. Happily ever after the end.

bonus content; Ren is the great great some-odd great grandson of both the Mad King and the Red King, both corrupt monarchs that Mumscarian fought against. BDubs was the right hand of the Mad King, ofc, and is very Fae like Scar, but he moves on with Cleo- another member of the Mad King's court who's still somehow alive- and eventually Etho joins them. Martyn is, unsurprisingly, Just Some Dude descended from the Red King's right hand, and is very much in love with Ren. There might even be a bit of a reincarnation thing going on there, but hey- who knows :)

Bonus:

#ask #Secondhand... something AU #I haven't decided what mob it'll be yet rip #🍂autumn anon🍂 #Long Post

[apompkwrites]

Okay but like hear me out-

Cult leader!shroud 👀

But like it makes sense! The ideas of resurrection and man controlling life and death?! Come on! Twst probably has religion or whatever the equivalent is. The point js, seeing chapter 6, they probably, for the most part, don't believe in an afterlife or "paranormal equivalent."

So imagine me this.........

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

A young shroud going through the countless research papers their brother had created. Going through every single one of them. Growing more and more frustrated with every single word their eyes land on.

Idia doesn't love ortho the way they did. No, no, no, not like this, not with this. He doesn't love ortho(?) Not like this. How could he replace him with..with this thing? This isn't him, no,no,no,no,no, this piece of metal will never be truly be ortho.

It has no soul, none of his "true" memories, it won't remember the things they went through together. That thing will never be ortho.

Unlike their brother, they will bring ortho back, they will bring the real ortho back and not some mockery of nature.

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

I feel as if, eventually, young little shroud would leave their home, leave the underground and towards the surface. No amount of research or mechanics would ever bring a person back from the dead, not by staying here, that is. So the little shroud left STYX(?) Without letting anyone know of where they have gone. They can't know, they wouldn't understand, they could never love ortho as much as them. They don't love them either, so why would they care? They never stopped to understand what happened. They would never understand what they spoke about before the Monster got him.

And so gone they were, little shroud all alone to fend for themselves. They don't know where to begin searching to bring back their brother, but that is of no matter, it will take years and a few lives to find an answer. But along as he comes back, there is no need rush.

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

There lies a young little lionette, mourning the loss of her beloved family. How many more days will it be? How many more days of war between tribes must go on? Why is this being ignored? Why do they kill each other? Why fight this pointless war? Why do they ignore this? Why does the royal family ignore the terror and horrors that occur on their land? Do they not have any love for their people!?

She cried and weeped as the Lachrymose sky began to tear as well. The young little lion cried and cried as a cloaked figure stood behind. They approached the girl slowly as possible and stopped when half a foot away and asked, "What would you give to bring them all back?"

A heart, a soul, a ring, a bird.

"Would be interested in hearing my story?"

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

A lion, a heart, a ring, a bird.

A rabbit, a lion, a heart, a ring, a bird.

A fae, a rabbit, a lion, a heart, a ring, a bird.

A man, a fae, a rabbit, a lion, a heart, a ring, a bird.

A murder, an abuse, a victim, a war,

His heart, the blood ring, and the corpse of a bird.

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

It has been a bit over a year, and soon will be then. When a human not known to this fairytale world, arrives in a coffin with people not of know, a sacrifice will occur, and those of once pronounced deceased, will rise and sing once more for they.

Oh, little shroud, lost into nothingness and obsession with the dead. The poor little sheep lost their way from the cruel reality. Idia never loved him, but they do, very much so. They will bring ortho back, no matter what.

And those behind them who sing a chant, they help with that very goal.

"We will save this world from all evil and purify it soon."

"Nothing is set in stone, not even death"

○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●□■○●

Cult leader shroud, cult leader shroud-

Imagine the cult infiltrating NRC

Imagine like tho, little shroud attempting to mess with a afterlife and play god?! Like omg omg. The drama~

I had a thought and wrote it out.🙏😭😭🤌

CULT LEADER SHROUD CULT LEADER SHROUD

i love cult!shroud despising idia for making ortho? maybe they see it as a desecration(?) of his image. and they leave STYX bc there is no way they can find what they need there.

and. and is that a crossover i see? lil kingscholar becoming a part of cult!shroud's group?

ugh now we have black sheep cult au /pos. imagine they infiltrate NRC and are, like, a big bad at the school but no one knows it yet :O

#a pompk answers #black sheep #a lilalienembolia's rambles

[themaladaptivewriter12]

Title: Friend? Or Foe?

Part 3 of my “The Lion's Den” series! Part 1 and 2 here!

Parings: None

Summary:

Days passed, and Leona continued this weird behavior. One day Leona was in Mirai’s space, and one day he wasn’t. One day they were bickering, fighting like they hated each other, and the next Mirai was crushing hard as Leona helped him study for his Potionology test. It was weird. And he did visit often, even sometimes when Grim and Mirai weren’t there. And he could always tell he had been there. Mirai could tell from the way the cushions were rumpled, or by the way the throw was placed. Things were always a little out of place but never missing, and never messy.

cw: Arguments, light angst, bloody noses mentioned , fist fights (aftermath described), biting (references to my previous work in this series), smoking

a/n: Please Read: I don't wanna say this was graphic, but it all depends on your comfort levels as readers, so the warning is there. They do fight, but I wanna put it out there that Mirai is okay, he can hold his own.

a/n: This is not a "Bullies to lovers". Just putting that out there. I wanna show Mirai's and Leona's process of trust and eventual love.

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do!  (─‿‿─)♡

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

Life went back to normal after Mirai’s stay at the Savanaclaw Dorm. Ramshackle was still standing, Grim was Grim, and on Monday, classes started anew. And of course he got dozens and dozens of confused, and also concerned looks from student and staff alike, but what could he do, he looked terrible. And of course Ace, Deuce wanted to know who’d lay a hand on their best friend, and of course Professor Crewel wanted to light the whole campus on fire in overprotective rage, but Mirai didn’t care, he had more important things to worry about. Like his relationship with the man who gave him the black eye, Leona Kingscholar. Mirai was still crushing on Mr.Tall, dark, and handsome, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Like, he was pretty certain the lion hated him, but if that was the case, why was he being so-

“Oi herbivore,” Leona called, “let’s ditch.”

Nice? 

Mirai didn’t know how or why he ended up following Leona to the Botanical Gardens, when they should have been in the lecture hall, but here he was, sitting in the grass as Leona got comfortable under a tree. Mirai watched him for a bit, wondering what his aim was, because if there was anything Mirai learned since being dropped here was that not one of the boys, except Kalim maybe, did anything without some type of ulterior motive. Nothing really was out of the kindness of their hearts. Take Azul for example, not one of his good deeds, his contracts, were out of the kindness of his heart, each and everyone of them for his own gain. Or Ruggie, he never does anyone a favor unless he gets something two times more in value in return, namely money. Even Leona was infamous for doing it, even if what he wanted in return was peace and quiet.

“Trouble tuning the lights on up there?”

Mirai jumped from his musing, eyes locking onto Leona who had presumably been staring at him the entire time. Mirai pouted petulantly, with a roll of his eyes and busied himself with doing some homework that was due next period. Leona chuckled at his pouting, a smug look crawling it way onto his roguish face as he relaxed into the plush grass once more.

Some time had passed and Mirai was still stuck on one of his history homework questions. It was on the Fundamentals of Magic, and their Founding Fathers. The question was simple enough, but when you knew nothing of the world you were spat into, the simplest of things became a challenge. 

“Since you’re not gonna let me nap in peace,” Leona gruffed, “tell me what’s got your tail twisted in a knot.”

“I-I, uh, sorry,” Mirai muttered, taking a hand from his hair, a habit of his when he was frustrated. And now that he thought about it, he must have been sighing as well. 

Leona snapped his fingers to get the Prefect's attention, “Show me.”

Mirai reluctantly made his way to Leona’s spot in the grass before sitting beside his head. Leona took the worksheet from Mirai with his free hand and read it over. 

“This stuff is elementary,” Leona scoffed, “I knew you were kinda airheaded, but not this bad.”

“And who knew the Great Leona Kingscholar could be a dunce,” Mirai quipped back.

“What was that?” Leona sneered.

“How ‘bout turning those lights for a second and think about what you just said,” Mirai smirked, throwing Leona’s words back at him.

Leona actually seemed to stop and think it over, and it seemed he caught on for he sighed with a grumble. “Give it here.”

“Gladly,” Mirai smiled.

Leona ended up spending the rest of the period helping Mirai, he even went as far as to teach him an old elementary school rhyme on how to remember the important names and information. And this is exactly what Mirai was talking about. Leona Kingscholor, the third year notorious for not doing anything unless he got something in return. The man notorious for hating tedious and irksome tasks, the Beastman notorious for not sticking his neck out for anyone unless it pertained to him, was helping Mirai Yuhara, Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, the seventeen year old without a mark to his name, or an asset, with his History homework. 

“You got it? Or do ya need me to run over it one more time?” Leona asked.

“U-Uh, I, uh, one, one more time,” Mirai stammered, “And uh, could you help me note the, uh, the important parts?”

Leona snapped his fingers for the notebook and a pencil, and Mirai scurried to pass them over. Leona sat up a bit as he went over it all once more, writing as he spoke. Mirai tried to take all the information in, he really did, but then again, maybe he was taking in a bit too much information. Like the way Leona’s ears twitched when he spoke, or the rasp in his voice, or the way the light from the Botanical Gardens glinted off chocolate waves, and beautiful earthy skin. Or maybe it was the way Leona’s tail swished lazily in the plush grass, or maybe it was the greens of his eyes that looked like deep pools emerald, eyes that held the warmth of a summer’s day, eyes that were now currently boring holes into Mirai’s soul-wait! What?!

Mirai jumped, mind reeling as he realized what he had been doing for the past-whatever minutes, instead of paying attention to what Leona was teaching. 

“Mind telling me what’s so interesting about me instead of what I took the time out of my nap to teach you?” Leona gruffed.

“W-Wait, I was paying attention, I swear! I-I-I, ugh,” Mirai groaned, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair, “It’s as you said before, I’m an airhead. Always have been, I honestly think it’s something deeper, but never got tested ya’know? My mother used to tell me that I had trouble listening and following directions as a toddler, and I think the accident made it worse, scrambled the brain and whatnot, an-” 

Mirai realized he was rambling, and oversharing, again, and promptly shut his mouth, annoyance overpowering his embarrassment. “Forget all of that. It’s as you said, I’m an airhead. So if you please, one more time?”

Leana didn’t say anything as he stared over again, and Mirai was grateful. He really didn’t want to explain himself, but he couldn’t help but wonder why Leona didn’t say anything. Was he just as embarrassed as Mirai was, annoyed, or did he just not know what to say? Mirai willed the thought away. He’d ponder later, but right now, he wanted to actually pay attention, he didn’t want to waste anymore of Leona’s time than he already did.

As the week passed, Mirai couldn’t get their impromptu study session out of his mind. He just couldn't figure out why he’d help him out like that. Not only did he interrupt his nap, which was the biggest crime to commit against Leona Kingscholar, he also wasted his time by zoning out, and despite all of that, Leona still helped him with his homework. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. 

Making his way through the Ramshackle’s front door, Mirai realized it was unlocked. That Grim, never remembering to lock the front door after he leaves. With a huff of annoyance, Mirai made his way in, shucking his shoes off at the door, he’d have to scold Grim when he got back. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Mirai hollered to no one in particular, as he made his way into the lounge. It was a little something he did that got a little giggle from himself every time. 

“Welcome back. Dinner’s on the stove.”

Mirai screeched at the raspy voice, his phone fumbling in his hands as he tried to catch it before it shattered on the floor. After Mirai got his bearings did he realize that lying on the couch under the stairs where the sun's afternoon rays were the strongest, was Leona Kingscholar. His molten chocolate tresses cascaded over the couch cushions, and his yellow Savanaclaw vest was balled up underneath his cheek. His sandals were nowhere to be found, probably left by the door, courteous, and on the far right armrest lay his gloves and belt.

“Le-Leona?!” Mirai stuttered.

“That’s ma name, don’t wear it out,” Leona muttered. 

“Wha-What are you doing here? And how did you get in? You didn’t break the lock, did you?! Because if you did, I swear-”

“You swear what? Whaddya gonna do, Herbivore?”

Mirai went silent and pouted petulantly and Leona smirked like the smug cat he was.

“C’mon, Herbivore. I’m not that messy. That furball let me in when he was on his way out,” Leona supplied, stretching out across the couch.

Mirai thought about poor Grim. He probably was shaking in his fur when Leona approached him. Mirai sighed, “So what are you doing here?”

“Taking a nap,” Leona yawned, getting comfortable once more, “The guys won’t think to find me here.”

Mirai sighed again, knowing he wasn’t gonna win against Leona, not even in his own home. So he just ignored him as he left the lounge to make his way upstairs to get comfortable for the rest of the day. After Mirai changed into some comfortable clothes, made himself a snack, and made his way to the other couch in front of the tall floor to ceiling window. Drawing one side of the curtains to lessen the glare on his laptop, Mirai made sure not to deprive Leona of his sun, as he got comfortable before starting his homework. 

The two of them sat in silence, but it was a comfortable one. Leona dozed quietly, the occasional snore, or sigh escaping his lips. And if he shuffled a bit to change positions, the old springs and frame of the couch creaked and squeaked in protest. On Mirai’s side of the room, the click-clack of Mirai typing on his laptop filled the silence, and if you tried hard enough, or had a heightened sense of hearing like Leona, you could pick up the quiet melody from the music Mirai had blaring in his cheap earbuds.

Time passed, but neither of them acknowledged it. The skies went from blue to orange, the sun's rays got warmer as their light changed from their soft yellows to deep golds. Dust motes danced across the room with the light rays as their stage, the dorm creaked and whined with every kiss of the breeze, but even after all of that, time seemed to stop. Nothing mattered, the world didn’t matter, nothing but the quiet moment in the Ramshackle lounge.

Leona awoke from his nap, slowly regaining the workings of his own body, becoming aware again. Like being aware that his right arm was asleep from sleeping on it, the annoying feeling of pins and needles crawling its way along his skin. He was aware of the fact that he somehow was lying with his tail wrapped around his hip, he was aware of his full bladder and empty stomach, and he was aware that he was still there on that crumby couch in the Ramshackle Dorm. 

Distantly Leona wondered about the time, but didn’t care enough to feel around for his phone. If his dorm needed him, he’d deal with it later. Cracking an eye open, Leona eyed the Ramshackle Prefect. Mirai lay lax across the right armrest, his homework forgotten, his earbuds still blasting whatever noise he called music into his ears. 

Leona sighed, sitting up, stretching his arms over his head, letting the kinks in his back pop loudly as he yawned tiredly, his mouth wide, teeth sharp. Checking his phone after fishing it from between the shoddy, torn, threadbare cushions, it was half past seven, and he had several missed calls from Ruggie. Great, he definitely was gonna get an earful from that little scavenger. Leona quietly gathered his things, his feet light and tactical on those worn and neglected wooden floors. Double checking one last time, Leona scanned the room, tired green eyes landing on the prefect once more.

Later that evening, Mirai was awoken by a hungry Grim and as he sat up, the throw he liked to keep on the rocking chair pooled into his lap.

Days passed, and Leona continued this weird behavior. One day Leona was in Mirai’s space, and one day he wasn’t. One day they were bickering, fighting like they hated each other, and the next Mirai was crushing hard as Leona helped him study for his Potionology test. It was weird. It was like night and day, and it seemed like Mirai was the only one affected.

Mirai asked Grim if he noticed, but the little monster hardly noticed anything that didn’t have to do with food or himself. But he did notice the increased visits from Leona, claiming that the sleep Housewarden was “cramping their style.” 

And he did visit often, even sometimes when Grim and Mirai weren’t there. Sometimes Mirai would come back from classes and find him sleeping on the couch, but most of the time he wasn’t. But Mirai could tell he had been there. He could tell from the way the cushions were rumpled, or by the way the throw was placed. Things were always a little out of place but never missing, and never messy.

Ugh. Mirai was mentally berating himself for not making his way to the courtyard. That way he could cover more ground, that way he could get some help, but no, he made the stupid decision to hide in one of the bathrooms, and it just had to be the one on the farthest wing of the school. Just his rotten luck.

Mirai really needed to stop running his mouth. He and Grim were surrounded, it was six against one, well, two if you counted Grim. There were the two guys from Savanaclaw, a guy from Diasomnia, two guys from Octavinelle and a guy from Pomefiore, all of which were ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“You don’t have your little entourage to help you now,” the blonde Pomefiore student sneered.

“Got nowheres ta go,” the Bobcat Beastman growled, closing in.

Mirai’s eyes darted for any openings, anything to help him, anything to get him out of this situation unscathed. But the more he looked, the more he searched, the more he began to panic. Then his eyes landed on Grim. 

“Cat’s land on their feet, yeah,” Mirai muttered, his eye cutting to Grim, who he pushed behind himself.

“Whatcha whisperin’ about over there?!” The Leopard laughed, “Ya better be whisperin’ your prayers that you’ll be breathin’ after we’re done with ya.”

Grim sneered, “I keep telling ya I ain’t no cat.”

“Well let’s just hope you do,” Mirai muttered.

“What are you talkin’ abo-”

With a swiftness, Mirai snatched Grim up by the scruff of his fur, and chucked him across the room. Grim wailed, little stubby arms flailing as he flew, and luckily he landed on all four paws near the door.

“Hey,” the long black haired fae from Diasomnia shouted, ducking lest he get a face full of fur.

“Run Grim! Get outta here,” Mirai shouted.

“B-But-” Grim stuttered.

“Go get some help! Just go!”

The Leopard Beastman growled loudly, turning his attention to Mirai, and one of the Mers turned to Grim. Grim gulped loudly and scurried through the door and down the hall, the Fishman hot on his three pronged tail. Mirai hoped that that little cat got away.

“Leave the familiar be,” the blonde from Pomefiore said, “By the time his little legs can carry him, we’ll be done here.”

Mirai swallowed, his eyes narrowing. 

The white haired Bobcat was first to lunge, Mirai evaded him, but the brown haired Leopard took his left, his literal blindside, and Mirai wasn’t as lucky. Mirai tried to rip his arm from his grasp, but the Bobcat rounded his right again, getting a hold of his right arm. Squirming, Mirai thrashed and kicked, his sneakers sliding as skidding across the slick tiled floors.

“What happened to all that talk, Dear one?” the Octavinelle student sneered, taking his time walking up to the three. “It is you who said you could take us all in a fight, yet you were the first one running.”

Mirai grunted as, yanking his arms, trying to free himself, “Shut up, fish face. Yo-”

Suddenly, the Mer snatched Mirai’s face between his fingers, squeezing hard, “Listen here, you waste of skin, some of us worked too long and too hard to get here, and I’m not gonna sit here and be insulted by someone who’s getting-”

Mirai spit in his face and the first punch was thrown.

Ploink. Ploink. Ploink.

The faucet leaked above Mirai as he lay there on the bathroom floor, watching the sunset through the small windows close to the ceiling. The forgotten bathroom was bathed in a serene golden glow, the warmth of the sun seeping into his skin. Gentle. Overbearing. Overheating. 

Ploink. Ploink. Ploink.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

  The faucet was dripping in time with his pulse, it was annoying. His head was pounding, so was his eye. It hurt to think, it hurt to look anywhere else but up, it hurt to breathe. Mirai reached up to his face, his fingers coming back a mottled red. Sticky. Tacky. Familiar.

Ploink. Ploink. Ploink.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His nose was clogged, swollen. He was pretty sure it was full of blood, and he was pretty sure he shouldn’t be lying like this, but far from caring. Not that he could sit up anyways. His breathing was shallow, his heart was beating slowly, and the slow waltz between the sink, his head, and his heart was making him nauseous. Mirai just hoped he didn’t blow chunks down his shirt. Because that would just be the icing on the cake.

Leona smelled iron before he even registered that that sickly thick scent was blood. Leona wouldn’t have cared, it wasn’t any of his business, but that scent was strong, too strong, and for some vile reason, it was oddly familiar. Leona traveled the empty halls, looking, searching, following the scent trail to the source. Leona turned the halls, his pace quickening a bit as he wracked his brain as to why he knew that scent. 

Ruggie and Epel flashed through his mind, but they didn’t fit the bill. Ruggies blood wasn’t rich, it was always too thin, too light. With that fact, Leona made a mental note to up the little runt’s wages. Epel on the other hand normally smelled too sweet, but it was also rich, and balanced. The kid didn’t bleed much, not around him that was, but it wasn’t him either.

Mirai pulled himself up steadily, sobbing as his injuries twinged with fiery hate. His thighs screamed, his arms shook, and as another wave of nausea washed over him, his knees threatened to give. But he pushed himself to stand, managing to lean his weight over the counter, and when he did, he was panting hard, a cold sweat dotting his brow. 

Mirai looked at himself in the mirror, and to be frank, the person staring back at him looked so alien to him, yet so familiar. His face was swollen. His lip was split on the left side, and his left eye, his left eye was already starting to bruise, the discoloration of his eye tinged with an angry red. And it hurt so much. His clothes were no better. His shirt was torn, with blotches of red staining it in certain places. He was wet, scuffed with dirt, his shoe was missing and his bag was in the toilet. Mirai swallowed a sob as he turned on the faucet, letting his head fall into the sink, watching the red run into pink down the drain.

Leona turned one last corner, and here, here it was strongest, and steadily getting stronger. Leona inhaled through his nose deeply, and the smell assaulted his senses. Why could he smell it so heavily? Why could taste it so vividly, like he was able to drink it down like a fine wine? Leona closed his eyes as he followed his nose. He could feel its warmth, he could feel it as it passed through his teeth, as red washed over his tongue, as the blood dripped passed his lips and down his chin. He could smell a mixture of deep iron, rich, yet so light. But he couldn’t see its owner. He could smell dust, sand, lavender, lavender. Lavender!

Suddenly Leona could see that small room he kept as a junk closet. He could hear the clutter around the falling to the floor, the things inside shattering. He saw that mop of blonde hair, he saw those bony shoulders as his own hands grabbed them, pulling, then red. Red. Red. It filled his mouth, his nose, he felt the warmth. The warmth from Mirai.

It was Mirai’s blood.

Mirai was scrubbing his hands when the bathroom door burst open. “Ya missed the show, come back another time,” Mirai sneered, not bothering to look up from the sink.

“Oi! What happened?!”

Mirai snapped his head to the door, expecting to see Ace, or Deuce, even Professor Trein or Professor Crewel, but not Leona.

“Ya got mud in your ears? What happened?!”

“Wha-What are you, what are you doing here?” Mirai asked absently, “Where’s Grim? Did he send you?”

“What?! No! I haven’t even seen that furball!”

Mirai’s mind was everywhere for a second, before he promptly shut off the water, pushing past Leona to leave, “I gotta go. I need to find Grim.” 

“Whoa, whoa. Hold up. Where are you going?” Leona snapped, grabbing Mirai by the shoulder, but instantly regretted it as Mirai hissed in pain.

Mirai wrenched his arm away, fresh hot tears filling his eyes, “Ya got mud in your ears?” Mirai shouted, once again using Leona’s words against him, “I need to find Grim. They were after him too!”

Leona rolled his eyes, “That can wait, we need to get you to the infirmary.”

“No, it can’t wait. Grim he’s-he’s-”

“Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s-,” 

“I-I-I don’t nee-”

Leona sighed before hauling the Prefect into his arms, and began to make his way down the hall. “It’s furball we're talking about. He might always be startin’ trouble, but you and I both know he’d rather set the school ablaze, than be caught with his tail between his legs.”

Mirai seemed to shrink in on himself. He was still missing a shoe, his bag was in a wet heap on the bathroom floor, and his clothes were wet and dirty, yet, here Leona was, holding him like he was a newlywed princess.

“So Infirmary first, Grim second, and then you’re gonna tell me who did this and what happened.”

Mirai didn’t say anything, only nodding as he clutched onto his phone for dear life, trying to force away the flush that was already making its way onto his freckled cheeks. 

The Infirmary was empty, the nurse nowhere to be seen. Mirai’s heard of him, the other’s said he was a little too rough, and a bit of a quack, but Mirai’s never seen him. But that didn’t deter Leona from sitting the Ramshackle Prefect on one of the beds before turning to get some supplies. Mirai thought this scene was oddly familiar, well, maybe it was because he had watched it dozens of times in Anime and read it many times in Manga. Gosh, now Mirai was getting nervous. Leona rolled one of the stools and a medical table up to Mirai and sat down, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. Okay, now he really was nervous. 

“What?” Leona gruffed, raising an eyebrow.

“Whaddya gonna do?” Mirai asked skeptically. 

“Open heart surgery. Lie down,” Leona deadpanned.

“Leona, I’m serious.”

“What do you think Ima do, you idiot?! It’s just bandages and disinfectant! It ain't rocket science!”

Mirai quieted, turning his gaze away from the Beastman in front of him. Leona sucked his teeth in annoyance, but proceeded anyway. 

Leona started with gently pulling Mirai’s right hand into his left, the Perfect twitching slightly, but he didn’t pull away, his eyes trained on the world behind the window. Taking the cloth he had sitting in some hot water, and gently dabbed at his knuckles. Mirai whimpered, trying to pull his hand away, but Leona didn’t let him, tightening his grip in warning. Mirai shut his eyes tightly, still not looking his way, and relaxed his arm. Leona took that as his sign to continue. 

Leona dabbed at the cuts once more, watching the prefect's face closely, as he made sure they were clean and free of any residue. 

“This might sting a little,” Leona whispered as he went for the disinfectant. Mirai didn’t say anything as he shut his eyes once more.

Leona pressed down on the nozzle, the spray coating Mirai's fist, and the blonde immediately tensed up, his fingers clawing at the Beastman’s palm. 

“Why are you helping me?” Mirai muttered after the burning dulled a bit.

Leona scoffed, “Don’t needa reason.”

“But that’s just it,” Mirai growled, a sudden flash of anger burning beneath his skin, “you do! Every single one of you, do!”

Leona looked taken aback before his eyes narrowed, “So now I can’t be nice?”

“Since when are you just nice?” Mirai said, rolling his eyes, “There’s always something innit for you.”

“Yeah, I ain’t just nice, but I’m not about to let ya bleed on the bathroom floor.”

“Why not?”

“Because ’m not not heartless.”

Mirai huffed, looking back at the setting sun.

“Did it hurt,” Leona asked quietly as he taped up Mirai’s fingers.

“Don’t remember it” Mirai muttered quietly.

“What’s that ‘pposed ta mean?”

When Mirai didn’t answer, Leona sighed and went back to what he was doing.

Cleaning up the rest of Mirai’s arm was just like his hand, he’d tense and pull, but never said a word. But Leona knew the more difficult task would be his face. Leona stood up to replace the water, and get a new cloth, and when he got back, the Prefect was still looking out the window, his face void of any emotion. Leona distantly wondered if the Prefect was scared, or if he was tired. 

Sitting back down Leona stared at him for a bit, taking in the bruises and cuts on Mirai’s face. He didn’t look like himself, he didn’t look like the guy who’d take on the world all by himself, he didn’t look like the guy who would idiotically do anything you dared him, even if the reward was one corn chip. And yeah, Leona got that those weren’t really good qualities, but it was what made Mirai, Mirai. 

“Hey,” Leona said quietly, slowly reaching for Mirai’s face and turning it towards himself. “Look at me.”

Mirai wasn’t quite looking, he wasn’t quite there to begin with, and something akin to fury, fury and something else he couldn't name gnawed at the Beastman’s stomach. But what he did know is that when he found those guys, he’d tear them apart.

“Hey,” Leona called again, “any light’s on up there?”

Mirai flinched, wincing as Leona ran the cloth across his busted lip.

“Did it hurt?” Leona asked again. 

“Yeah,” Mirai mumbled. 

If the other was referring to his lip or the initial beating, they both didn’t know.

In the end Grim was okay, he was safe, and Mirai couldn’t be happier. Mirai got his shoe back, which he was grateful for, since they were his only pair, and as for his bag, it belongs to the trash now. The guys, who Mirai may or may not have instigated a fight with, were never identified, and five days later, Mirai’s phone was fixed, thanks to a little blue haired half student, and upon leaving for the day one morning, a new expensive school bag sat neatly in a cardboard box on his doorstep. 

 Mirai sat under the awning above Ramshackle’s door, watching the rain pelt the pavement below, thinking. The skies were a dark gray, the winds punishing and cold, but for some reason it was comforting. For the first time, it seemed that this world finally aligned with how Mirai was feeling, that it was finally on his side. 

Days passed, Mirai's face healed, his bruises healed, but something about Leona changed. A cigarette sat forgotten between red bitten lips as chipped black painted nails scratched at the healing scrapes on his knees, watching little beads of red bubble up from beneath his skin. Mirai sighed, pulling his shorts back over his knees, not caring if the hems stained. It wasn’t like he and Leona were friends, but something just, he didn’t know, shifted. 

The third year didn’t invite him to skip class anymore, he didn’t send him of stupid tasks like getting his lunch, and he didn’t crash in Ramshackle’s lounge anymore. He hadn’t even seen the man in passing, it was like he became a ghost, and it seemed he was the only one concerned about it. It was weird, but then again, it all was weird to begin with.

Mirai sighed deeply, watching the smoke become one with the clouds. He thought back to that afternoon, gosh, he could hardly remember most of it. Of course he remembers how he got there, and how it started. He remembers making Grim leave, he definitely remembers spitting in that jerk’s face, then getting punched, but after that, nothing. The next thing he remembers is being the floor, and the pain that followed. Maybe it was that, maybe after Leona had seen how pathetic he looked that day, he realized just how weak and useless he was and decided to cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” Mirai scoffed to himself. It was never like he was important to Leona anyways. It wasn’t like he ever had a chance. 

“Oi human!”

Mirai turned around and Grim stood behind him, his little paws crossed over his little nose.

“Yeah?” Mirai snickered.

“Your phone’s ringing,” Grim said, voice sounding nasally.

“Coming,” Mirai muttered, snuffing out his cigarette in the stone beside him. 

Picking up Grim, Mirai headed inside, shutting the front door behind him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twist #twist #twist disney #yuu #leona x yuu #twst yuu #yu #twisted wonderland yuu #Leo #twst leona #leon #ra #ramshackle prefect #ramshackle oc #oc #twst oc #twisted oc #twisted wonderland oc #Mirai Yuhara #sl #sleepy writes #themaladaptivewriter12

[aajjks]

TC!dad!JK

you’re nervous and jungkook can tell that you are. it’s your first time riding a ship and going into a territory different from your own. your clothes are folded neatly next to jungkook’s and you made sure to bring enough bottles for jinseoul who is in a separate room with iseul. from what you heard, he’s handling the travel well and hasn’t been crying much.

you’re thankful that the weather from goryeo to yamato was rather peaceful because you’d feel even worse for bringing jinseoul alongside you during stormy weather.

“your highness, we are 2 hours away from yamato” announces a guard. you rise up from the bed and begin anxiously adjusting your clothes to make sure everything is perfect. from your short hair, to the blue hanbok until jungkook reassures you that you look perfect.

“she’s not going to like me, jungkook. i know it”

“oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about her-you are the queen of the strongest empire in the world. She’s going to love you”

jungkook gets up from the bed and helps you place the gold crown on your head. “relax” he tells you. “We will be there in two hours” which is so soon; too soon. you feel jungkook lips press a kiss to your neck before kissing you on your cheek.

“calm down, y/n” you tell yourself. “everything will be okay”

once you all arrive to yamato, one by one everyone leaves the ship and makes way for you and jungkook; bowing to show their respect. “wow” you say aloud “this is…this place is beautiful”

“여왕님과 정국왕님 안녕하세요! allow me to take you to your estate provided by empress ayame!” says a guard who presents a carriage for you and jungkook. “c’mon ms. iseul. you’ll be riding with us” you say to the older woman as you take her hand and usher her inside the carriage after jungkook gets inside.

the guards make sure to stay close to the coachman who takes the four of you to the estate in kyoto. on the way there, you’re growing more nervous by the second.

“why so nervous, queen y/n?” iseul asks.

“oh, it’s nothing. just tired”

you may be able to get away with lying to jungkook but iseul can easily see through your facade.

“or maybe you’re overthinking. relax, your highness. everything will be alright”

“you’re right” you sigh and to help reassure you, jungkook takes your hand in his and caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. to see you not feel uncomfortable by jungkook’s touch warms iseul’s heart.

“my, my you two are adorable” iseul coos. “you chose right, jungkook”

“we are here!!” announces the coachman who goes to open the door and reveal the beautiful home surrounded by tall sakura trees.

“you all may settle down. i shall be back to pick you up to meet empress ayame in 3 hours. please, make yourself at home”

~🫧

Kyoto is really pretty but Jungkook still prefers Goryeo.

Even though the architecture is really pretty and unique.

He remembers visiting these countries with his parents. And Kyoto too. As jungkook watches you settle down in the large room, Jinseoul is laying next to him, Jungkook caresses his chubby cheek.

“Yn don’t worry about out anything.” He says because you’re really nervous and frankly jungkook doesn’t understand why because Ayame’s opinion on you doesn’t matter in the slightest.

Jungkook is here for a reason, political reasons. “She must be here soon, I don’t understand why I hate to wait for her- how old is she? Probably someone in her 40’s.” He scoffs.

Of course he doesn’t like waiting around for anyone.

It’s been three hours, you are all fed, and both have rested, jinseoul is now awake, and he’s such a happy little baby, jungkook kisses his cheek. “My little lion.” He coos.

“I can’t wait to go home already.” He is not too crazy about traveling, jungkook sighs. Just then a knock on your door comes, “여왕님과 정국왕님 안녕하세요! allow me to take you to the empress in the hall room.” A servant in Japanese traditional clothes comes and bows.

You both get up and you excuse yourself quickly so you can give jinseoul to Isuel so you can attend the meeting with the Empress.

Jungkook waits for you to come as soon as you do? You’re both making your way through the grand, halls of the Yamato Palace.

That is until you both reach the Hall and there is the Empress.

“Welcome King Jeon and Queen Jeon of Goryeo.”

#ask: tc!jungkook