#AND THEN HERE COMES BRANCH WITH THE STEEL CHAIR-

[maskyartist]

okay so "tomorrow" got late BUT heres my goofy ass Clay/Creek idea :)

the entire summery is under the cut but in case ur curious dont worry

Branch eventually finds out :D

more info under the cut!

Once the Putt Putts end up getting moved to Trollstopia (i imagine they have their own sectioned off area, they're not exactly "pop trolls" anymore yknow? they got a lil makeshift spot they're turning into a new mini golf course as we speak), Clay was properly hired as Viva's royal advisor. Aka her assistant :)

He loves doing all his usual serious boy work, but its gotten hard doing it by himself now that it's less "trying to keep a small community from burning down" and more "trying to convince all the other genre's theyre not feral as hell". its a lotta work, along with keeping up with Putt Putts and their wants and needs for their new kingdom

So Clay puts out a flier for an assistant position and after weeks of no luck, he gets a hit and hires the guy as soon as he can!

Creek has been living on the outskirts of Pop Village ever since the "Bergen" incident, too afraid of the consequences of his actions to try and rejoin the Pop Trolls. Instead he ends up watching them build a newer area with Trolls he's never even met before.

Creek begins exploring the Putt Putt Range and is happy to be greeted as a full stranger. This spot might be safe. Social, not too far from his "home" (a tucked away cave in the forest), and no one knows what he did. He can start over!

Even better, there's a job offer for Putt Putt Range specifically. Hes not one for hard work, but after living on his own for long enough, hes sick of having to fight for his own food. He'd rather have a paycheck and something MUCH better then whatever crap he finds lying around. Or has to cook. Even worse.

Clay may be desperate but Creek does do good work. Being his assistant is thankfully rather simple. Creek is in charge of smaller, less important file information, along with manning the front and taking requests for the Putt Putts on what should be done to the Range. All in all? It's peaceful. It really does feel like a fresh start, and even better? Clay is...really nice. Patient, understanding, he listens and Creek has been alone so long it's just nice to be heard.

Things could really take a turn for the better.

...and then he learns who Clay's brothers are and all hell breaks loose :)

(its a lot of back and forth, Clay learning new info and having to just sorta grapple with it, being caught in the middle of a family feud situation. He cant STAY with Creek/keep him on staff if he wants to keep Branch happy, but he also doesnt wanna FIRE Creek because he hasnt hurt the Putt Putts. He has no reason to fire him, family business is just that. Family business. Its not for a professional setting.

Clay's caught between a rock and a hard place, and he's gonna have to squeeze himself out before he breaks.)

#masky says #doodles #trolls dreamworks #trolls clay #trolls creek #trolls branch #cleek #clay x creek #we usin x's in this fandom??? i like it picasso (miss the days of x characters.../ are just so not fun) #the assistant's assistant AU #less an au and more my own personal goofy post-movie story but i like things organized :) #when i remember to do it >3> #ANYWAYS THEYRE GOOFY SILLY WITH A LIL BIT OF ANGST ITS PERFECT! #idk i like the idea of Creek just getting a place he can BE. #doesnt have to walk on eggshells doesnt have to find solutions he can just heal on his own surrounded by people who dont know him #feel thats the only way he can be semi-normal idk pop village was a lot i think his mellow attitude really didnt do well there #feel him and Clay just have good conversations about forgiving themselves and finding the little things to look forward to #AND THEN HERE COMES BRANCH WITH THE STEEL CHAIR- #oh my god anytime he sees Creek in that office hes two seconds away from smashing his face in with a led pipe #he RELUCTANTLY will be civil >3> For now.

[rosewaterandivy]

don't fall away from me

summary: “If I should fall, on that day / I only pray, don't fall away from me" from I, Carrion (Icarian) - Hozier

w.c.: 1.9k

previously

Years pass by, and time moves differently here. Hawkins, but not quite, stuck in the perpetual year of 1983. Life, or whatever you call his existence, in the Upside Down is one long, drawn-out night. Turbulent clouds of red and blue rolled through a bruise-colored sky. 

And somewhere beyond, just out of his reach, lies the scent of summer. It wafts through as it pleases— fragrant blooms, sunlight, and waxy blades of green. He can almost taste the slupees and melting popsicles, watermelon sugar tingling on his tongue.

He can hear your laughter in the dead air, the sound echoing through the caverns of his mind. That is, at least, when he isn’t there.

Vecna, Henry Creel, his majesty the scrotum— whatever.

Speaking of which—

“It’s time.”

The steel-trap of his memory slams shut, though it’s useless to try and keep anything for himself. Learned that the hard way. Many times, in fact.

Like clockwork, the lone walkie crackles to life with a burst of static. 

“Eddie, it’s Dustin. Over.”

His longs to wrap his fingers around the chunk of plastic and press down to reply. He always will, he can’t rightly help it.

But this time, Dustin says something else. It’s not the usual: “Eddie, can you read me? Over.”

Instead, it's: “Eddie, if you’re there just—” followed by a deep breath. “If you come back, things are different now. She’s different. She’s got another life and…”

In spite of himself, he creeps closer to the walkie. 

Dustin heaves a sigh down the line. “Please don’t come for her. If you are what I think you are, you’ll stay away.”

But, of course, he doesn’t listen to Henderson’s pleas. Turns out, a prolonged stay in the Upside Down as Vecna’s Frankenstein abomination of a lieutenant will do that to a person. Or whatever he was now. He can’t listen to good sense because his has fled. He has to hope that some things are the same, that your love remains the same.

And with that, he unfurls his wings and takes off toward the surviving gate.

Ever since he’d woken up, or rather, been revived by Vecna, something has been pulling at him from Hawkins. Well, several somethings really, but two in particular burn the brightest. He follows them like the north star guiding him home.

Except home for him doesn’t exist anymore, at least not in any way that matters. 

A cabin tucked away in the woods kept secret and safe, sunken back against the trees. On a thick branch of a nearby tree hangs a tire swing, pastoral and endearing. Next to it sits a worn picnic table, burgundy paint peeling at the edges. There’s a clatter from behind the door before it creaks open.

You linger there, back turned to him, a cream-colored dress falls to graze just beneath your knees. Your hair is longer now, a smile coming to his lips as he continues to observe, a few locks falling loose from the braid you’ve tied.

The braid and dress are new. But the ease with which you lean into the house, carefree and relaxed, that is familiar.

And maybe that’s enough.

He watches as you eventually settle back against a well-loved rocking chair, a soft crooning voice floating through the air as you tilt your head back and sigh. 

Christ. You smell good. He always thought you had, even now the faintest aroma of sandalwood only serves to conjure vestiges of you. But he can’t detect the fine traces of them now. In its stead is a bright note of salt, musk, and heat beckoning him like a siren’s call.

Only once the sun has set beneath the horizon does he answer that call, stepping out from underneath the shade of the trees. A twig snaps underfoot at his approach, and your head whips toward him, your mouth pulled in a flat line. With the grace and quickness only Nancy Wheeler would envy, you grasp the barrel of a soldered off shotgun.

“I would suggest you turn back now,” You warn lowly, cocking the hammer and wrapping your finger around the trigger.

Stepping from the trees, he raises his arms slowly and sheepishly ducks his head.

“Unless you’ve got some silver bullets in there, sugar,” He jests, lips jerking into a careful smile, “I doubt it’ll do much good.”

Rising from the chair, you narrow your eyes to stare into the taller broader figure of a man you have known too well. 

“Eddie?”

He responds with a nod, not that it does much to lessen the blow. You blink, eyes darting side to side as if questioning your reality.

Hearing his name slip from your tongue so softly nearly steals his breath. He can’t help but close his eyes to memorize it. That voice, his name, the years have passed, and he hasn’t forgotten. Not a single thing.

From the first time you called it, to the first time you whispered it, to the last time you sobbed it, following him into the unknown darkness. No matter how black his heart, he always had you.

“Hi sweetheart,” He greets, stepping forward and dropping his arms, extending a shaky outstretched hand.

Or, what could once be considered a hand.

And the devastation that falls on your face is worse than any of the terrors he’s suffered combined. You stand frozen like a statue, stiff and still save for the fluttering of your skirt in the breeze.

Beautiful as ever.

Your mouth begins moving before any words fall forth, expression ranging from shock to elation before settling at outright terror. There’s a slight tremor to your hands as they grip the weapon aimed directly at him.

He can hear the quickening of your heart, the whoosh of air that slips from your lungs with each breath, the inherent thrum of life all around you.

He makes to call your name, but the words fall silent in his throat at the sight unfolding before his eyes. The door creaks loudly as you dash in front of it, shielding something from view.

And then he sees it. The change Dustin alluded to; the life.

If he had a heart, it would have dropped, trembled even. Even the cool absence of it feels like it could burst right through his chest.

“Mama?” The boy whispers from behind the mesh of the screen door. He clumsily totters from one foot to the other, landing with a plop on the floor.

A child.

“Stay there baby,” You say, eyes trained on Eddie and flashing in warning. “I’ll be in soon.”

Mama.

Fuck. The boy is beautiful. Footsie pajamas and face shadowed, shielding him from Eddie’s prying eyes. Even if he can’t make out the boy’s face just yet, he knows, because of you, any child would be perfect. Like those cherubs from Renaissance paintings. A little cherub that could have been his.

“Cute kid,” Eddie smiles, voice soft and low, “What’s his name?”

“He’s named after his father,” You say taking one step toward him. “And you should be leaving.”

“Jams!” The boy helpfully offers, “My name's Jams!”

“J-Jamie.” You breathe, “His name is Jamie.” Clearing a tickle in your throat, you clarify, “Steven James, technically.”

The boy— Steven. Eddie feels himself roil at the new knowledge. His name is Steven.

“Steven? Steve?” Betrayal trips along his tongue, a lingering tang of wet pennies in the way he questions it. As much as he tries to brace for it, a tiny blooming wound breaks through the syllable.

Between your overcast eyes and Eddie’s inspecting onces, the boy is lodged like a twig in a dam, holding back the torrent from both sides. You continue to grip the rifle and shush him now for the time being.

“Is he— Steve? He’s Steve’s?”

Eddie observes the front yard, the blinding, hopeful curtain lifting from his eyes— there are three chairs on the porch, three black-eyed Susans painted on the mailbox, three stumps further afield surrounding a fire pit.

A home.

You face swims with heartbreak, mouth twisting into a scowl he’s seen rarely but still— he knows it.

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, nostrils flaring and face coloring with indignation.

Eddie frowns, broken-hearted, apologetic, jealousy roiling in his gut. Unshed tears gather at your lashes, lips pinched tightly, as if holding back your words will keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t know what you mean as he stares vacantly at your protective stance.

But then he sees it.

He sees it when the boy grunts, tired of a conversation that is years beyond his interest and understanding. He rests a tiny hand against the screen door and gently pushes at it.

Jamie is quick and before you can haul him back behind you, he scampers into the light as if the pair of you are playing a game, and when Eddie looks back to where his perfect little head is— drawn firmly to your side, plopped on your jutting hip, he sees dazzling cascades of mahogany curls glinting in the dim porch light.

The boy twists his little body around and stares of Eddie with some curiosity now that they are both wholly revealed to the other.

“He was there for me,” A faint whisper escapes your mouth, heavy tears falling down your chin, pooling until they barely hang on. “He was there the entire time. All nine harrowing months, knowing that I was growing something that was yours. If it weren’t for Steve, I—” You shake the thought loose before it can take hold.

You press your lips to Jamie’s head, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin, “I was completely out of it with grief. Th-thought, I coul— I couldn’t do it. Have a baby that was yours when you were gone. When you died, what we had was barely even a dream, Eddie.”

He knows, he remembers it all too well.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry— I didn’t—"

“I know,” You nod, acknowledging his confession. “You had no reason to.” He bites his tongue, hopes it draws some blood, hopes in secret that something will take his very existence from him now, and knows the chances are slim. He can’t stand the thought of being among the living any longer, facing the consequences of his actions, his so-called heroics— the two people he left behind.

“Steve was there, and he loved me through it. And when this little… when this sweet guy—” You press your face to his and take a steadying breath. “When this boy came, we held each other and wept.”

A small laugh escapes from you muffled by Jamie’s hair.

“So, he’s named after his father, just not necessarily his biological one.”

Jamie leans toward you, places his palms to your cheeks and pats the wetness away. “No cry, mama. Happy face.”

You crumble apart, bursting into tears against his little palm, pressing kisses to his fingertips, and part of Eddie crumbles to ruin too. The boy, this precious boy, who is both his and not his, turns and looks at him earnestly.

“Mama’s okay, baby,” You whisper to him, “I’ve got you now, my sunshine boy.”

“You should leave,” You turn to Eddie, reluctance rounding the words as they tumble from your mouth. “Before he gets home.”

Because your home is with Steve now. Not Eddie, at least not anymore.

“He’ll want to see you, they all will, but not like this.”

He wouldn’t even know what to say to Steve. He wouldn’t know what to say to anyone. The stories he’d told himself of abandonment and sacrifice all pale in comparison to the reality of it all— trying to mete out a meager phantom life, half-existing, while the world continued to turn above. 

You and Steve, and his son— your son, Eddie’s son, Steve’s son. 

All strung together like tragic marionettes, and he can’t protect you from the puppet master.

With a few beats of his wings, Eddie's gone, soaring above the tree line and catching the last few rays from the setting sun. Relishes the scant warmth and thinks that maybe Icarus had the right of it; the greatest tragedy, after all, is never to feel the burning of the light.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst

[lokiswifeduh]

beautiful flesh

pairings: tattoo!artist!buckybarnes x fem!plus!size!reader

summary: You're going in with Natasha to get a tattoo, but you're nervous since the place you want it in has a little extra skin. Thankfully, Bucky is there to assure you you're beautiful.

warnings: needles, blood, tattoos, negative self-talk, I think that's it!

Natasha walked in first, the bell on the door jingling as she stepped through. You walked in behind her, timidly looking around as you kept at least a two-foot distance between the two of you.

"Romanoff!" A blonde man grinned as he stepped up to the counter, wiping off a bottle with black liquid in it. He was covered in tattoos, his arms filled with roses and skulls and his neck was covered in intricate designs as well. You eyed the ink drawings, admiring them from behind your friend.

"Y/n!" You snapped out of your daydream as Natasha caught your attention. "Hmm?" She let out a small chuckle, "I was just telling Steve here about the tattoo you wanted to get."

You nodded, "Yeah, I want flowers." "You gotta be a little more specific, doll." All your heads snapped in the direction of the man walking from behind the glass partition. His eyes were steel blue, contrasting with the chestnut brown of his hair. His muscled flexed back and forth as he cleaned off a piece of equipment, the tattoo's on his arms moving over the muscles underneath.

You soon realized everyone was staring at you, awaiting a response. "Uh, a vine of flowers, with the branch going up on my breast." You slightly lifted your arm, motioning with your other to the underneath of your right breast. Bucky's eyebrow raised slightly, "I hope you gotta picture, doll. Come on back." I looked to Natasha who had already sat down at Steve's station, the blonde artist already working on sanitizing and cleaning her arm where her next design was going.

You followed the brunette man to the back of the store, walking through and into a room where there was a chair with a table of supplies. "You can lay down on your back." You moved, following his words as you let your back rest against the chair, your legs bent down but not enough to touch the ground.

Bucky cleaned off his machine, making sure everything was prepped and ready. You didn't wanna tell him this was your first tattoo but somehow you could tell he knew. Plus the absence of art on your bare arms and back made a statement that you hadn't done this before.

Bucky sat down on the rolling stool beside the chair, "Lift up your shirt for me, doll." You cringed, Bucky catching your grimace. Just as you were about to lift your tank top he caught your hand, "If you're uncomfortable you don't have to do this." You shook your head, "It's not, I just..." You took a deep breath, "I'm a little bigger than most girls and I'm not really sure this tattoo will..work with my size."

Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion before softening his gaze, "Doll, I've been doing this for a while. And I can tell you, no matter the size you are or the shape you are beautiful, and this tattoo, or any you get in the future will look amazing on your exquisite body." You let out the breath you were holding, squeezing your eyes shut only to open them as you made eye contact with the brunette sitting above you.

"You mean that?" Bucky nodded, a smirk gracing his lips, "You have nothing to be worried about, doll. You have an amazing body, believe me." You nodded your head, pulling up your shirt and holding it so he could sanitize your skin.

He wiped off the area you described, "I might need you to lift a little more of your bra if that's okay." You let out a low laugh, "Can I at least know your name before I flash you?" He huffed out a surprised chuckle, "My names' James. and you are?"

"Y/n" You lifted your bra a little more as he swiped the disinfectant over the under of your boob.

"Well, nice to meet you Y/n." You smiled, feeling his hands over your body like electricity.

"You too, James."

A/N: I honestly loved this idea! Plus it was fun getting to photoshop Natasha and Bucky with tattoos! I want to start doing more Bucky x plus-size!reader, since I am plus-size myself and it is hard to find fics with plus-size readers.

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #tattoo!artist!bucky #fanfic #marvel #buckybarnes #avengers #bucky imagine #fanfiction #fluff #fem!reader #natasha romanoff #romanogers #steve rogers #tattoo!artist!steverogers #marvel imagine #winter soldier

[typellblog]

ok i decided i might as well post some of my original writing here idk if anyone wants to read it

Sister Lethe felt the thrum of divinity on the girl as soon as she walked into the room. The girl herself made no effort to disguise it: her cloak swept out behind her despite the lack of wind, her footsteps audible throughout the room even on carpet. Her face was built for being admired from a distance. Anyone who tried to make eye contact with her was ignored.

Even without the girl’s somewhat unique relationship towards the Charitable Order complicating matters, Sister Lethe wouldn’t have blamed the brothers and sisters of the front office for letting her in without a word. It wasn’t every day that one was directly confronted by a Curse-Bearer.

The four or five other members of the Order that were present in the parlor looked towards Sister Lethe, the highest-ranked member currently residing within the commune, and by ancient right and custom the one who ought to deal with this situation. She barely supressed a sigh and stepped forward, adopting the same tone of voice she used with recalcitrant children.

“Miss Elspeth Steel-Cursed, I assume? If you would come this way. I’d like to speak to you.”

The furnishings of Sister Lethe’s private meeting room were rather drab for receiving someone who was understood by numerous religious doctrines to be the reincarnation of a god, but the Order had since its founding adopted a first-among-equals approach. Sister Lethe wouldn’t pretend that being effectively the leader of Talis Commune, by population one of the Order’s largest stationary branches, didn’t afford her certain privileges, but she was firm in her insistence that decoration would not be one of them.

Elspeth Steel-Cursed, for her part, seemed unconcerned, taking a seat and leaning back in a casually cross-legged pose. Looking at her closely the girl couldn’t have been much older than twenty years, and – Sister Lethe realised with a start that she didn’t have a left arm. Its absence had been concealed by the cloak, but after the garment had been laid down on her chair, the skintight black costume she was wearing made it obvious that her arm had been severed a little below the shoulder.

It could, perhaps, have been a birth defect, Sister Lethe knew, but violence was always a good bet, when it came to the Cursed.

“So?” It took her a moment to register the girl had spoken. A clipped, no-nonsense tone of voice, delivering none of the usual flatteries. Elspeth wasn’t a person of many words, it seemed.

Sister Lethe, on the other hand, had to take a moment to collect her thoughts, avoid speaking too much into the silence that the other had left.

“It is my understanding that you’ve made a habit of visiting our Order’s communes, of late.” Although ‘taking refuge’ might have been a more accurate description. A string of very public incidents – in different company Sister Lethe would call them crimes – had brought the Steel-Curse’s bearer to the attention of the Empire’s highest. The girl in front of her was wanted by every authority on the continent. There were even rumours that the Seven Swords were on her trail.

Elspeth shrugged.

“You lot run a tight operation. There are worse places to stay for a few days.”

“We do not, as a rule, freely harbour terrorists and revolutionaries.”

Elspeth snorted.

“The things they call me . . .”

“My point, young lady,” snapped Sister Lethe – and was abruptly interrupted. Chair flung aside, lone arm stretched across the table, face a little too close to Lethe’s – Elspeth Steel-Cursed grinned at the older woman.

“Please do let me know what your point is, because as far as I can tell you lot have a standing policy to let me do whatever I want, on account of the Curse in me being Dorian Greycloak’s castoff.”

Dorian King-Questioner, Dorian Stone-Breaker. The Order’s founder, and someone who had a thousand years ago been considered one of the twenty-one gods that walked this earth.

Most of the gods were long dead, but their Curses remained.

“Well?” asked the girl, her green eyes glimmering with divinity. “Do I have the bearing of a god, Lethe?”

Sister Lethe retracted her previous assumption. Elspeth Steel-Cursed was not a woman of few words. She simply had a flair for the dramatic.

“That is a misconception.” Sister Lethe stated. “The divinity of our founder, Dorian, is not in question, but the Order does not worship or hold him in higher esteem than any other man because of this.”

“Oh?” Elspeth said slowly, breaking off from the staring contest and dragging her seat back into place.

“The reason why his teachings, writings and tales of his actions are passed down among us even to this day is because of his exceptional wisdom and goodness.”

“And?” Elspeth asked, waving her hand as if to hurry Lethe up.

“You are not a god, or even the reincarnation of one,” Lethe said, keeping her voice level. “You are just an unfortunate child branded with a power beyond her ability to control.”

“Oh, I control it, Lethe. If I didn’t, I imagine you would be quite dead right now.”

Try as she might, Sister Lethe could not detect even the hint of a lie in the girl’s pale countenance.

Seemingly content with having rendered Sister Lethe temporarily speechless, Elspeth continued.

“If I am not held in any particular regard by the Order, for what reason have I been so graciously accommodated in the past months? None of your leaders have struck me as very impressive so far, but I doubt they would have acquiesced to my demands so readily without cause.”

Sister Lethe sighed, breathing in deeply.

“The following is paraphrased from the Founder’s Last Letter, a secret document circulated within the Order, which we believe his last written communication before the Burning several days later:

My mind has made peace with my demise, but I fear my soul has not . . . the Blessing that I bear was not intended for, and in any case cannot be handled by, ordinary humans . . . I know this is a selfish request, but I feel it is my responsibility . . . for those afflicted by what part of my influence still remains in the world, may the Order forevermore be a most welcoming home to them.”

The sound Sister Lethe heard was the grinding of Elspeth Steel-Cursed’s teeth. The girl looked up from her clenched fist.

“I never asked for that, you old bastard.” The words didn’t have the same bite that Sister Lethe was beginning to expect from the girl, though.

Sister Lethe decided it was an appropriate time to ring the bell for tea. Refreshments on demand was one of the small vanities she allowed herself.

If she had thought she’d done enough to get Elspeth to lower her guard, though, she was entirely mistaken. The girl didn’t even glance at the cup she was presented with, and remained as frustrating to talk to as before.

“If I may ask, how did you lose your arm?” Lethe tried, having exhausted any less offensive angle she thought might get the girl to open up to her.

Elspeth was silent for a moment.

“You are familiar with the effects of the Steel-Curse, yes?”

Sister Lethe was. While they varied by incarnation, the Curse generally manifested as the ability to-

“-turn my body into steel.” Elspeth finished the sentence, seemingly allergic to letting Lethe get the last word on anything.

It boasted the greatest defensive ability of any known Curse, making the wielder impervious to most injury.

“Doesn’t it sound useful? But there are two sides to everything. Lethe, have you ever considered what would happen if one part of the body, and one part only, was made steel, the rest remaining flesh?”

Sister Lethe had not. If anything, she would just imagine the steel part of the body blending seamlessly into the rest. But Elspeth bringing it up in this context meant . . .

“Steel has no bones or veins, no blood or connective tissue. How I even live while clad in it is a mystery that the most advanced magecraft has tried and failed to answer. But that mystery did not save me when I failed to turn one part of my body back.”

Elspeth’s face quirked into a smile of amusement.

“I’m surprised it even remained attached for that long. Funnily enough, it turned to flesh again after falling off.”

She leaned in closer again, as if confiding a secret between friends.

“Not that it was much help to me as I was bleeding out on the cold earth with nobody nearby to aid me.”

Sister Lethe leaned in despite herself as Elspeth’s voice became even softer and quieter.

“That’s not even the best part, though. You see, this was actually the first time the Curse awakened in me. No wonder I didn’t know how to use it properly.”

Bright green eyes locked directly onto Lethe’s. Almost hissing the last line.

“I was eight years old.”

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

please forgive ellie shes an edgelord

this is the main setting i would write in, she'd be one of the main characters

#my writing

[sylseal]

The Universe Blinked (D&D fiction)

When she finished the ritual, it felt like everything was halted.

The ravens did not caw, the candle flames did not flicker, the winds did not blow; it was like even time itself had lurched to a crawl under the authority of her spell. For a moment she believed she would be trapped there, in that single fraction of an instant, forever. ‘A fitting punishment for she who would conspire to replace divinity,’ she thought to herself with a sort-of dry amusement. Yet, as that instant stretched out, amusement turned to anxiety. Her heart began hammering in her ears; would she be stuck here, unable to move, in this second of time? Was this her end? Years of study and prep work and divine incantations to learn more about the god of death from a distance, hoping she could one day challenge him, wasted? Was that why He even allowed it? Did Death know that she would come so far, only to fail and be trapped here like this? Her heartbeat grew faster as her anxiety spiked.

However, it was at that exact moment, just before true panic set in, that She found she could move.

Her gloved, slender fingers moved with frantic speed, checking her body to ensure two things: first, that she was whole and unmaimed, and second, to ensure that her outfit was still on. It was her attire for the evening, her...costume, for want of a better word. It was one part battlemage’s attire, one part formal dress. A combination of gorgeous sheer black fabric that glittered with the patterns of the stars in it, and of cold, enchanted steel made to shield her body from necrotic energies and physical assaults alike. And the cap of it all, the crown jewel of her outfit, was a porcelain mask of a feminine face, outlined by a wreath of raven’s feathers, which together, with a hood that was part of her chestplate, ensured that little to no part of her identity would be shown, not even her pointed ears.

Indeed, that had been one of the parts of this plan that she had slaved over the most. She knew that if she did not disguise her identity, then Death would recognize who she was, and would simply destroy her as she attempted the ritual. By disguising herself, by hiding herself, she evaded his sight, and was able to challenge him from the safety of anonymity.

She looked up from the cold floor, where the ritual circle was still engraved into stone, and saw that she was no longer in the small chapel she had begun the ritual in. Instead, she and the stone platform she rested on now sat at the heart of a dark forest, with enormous trees made of black wood stretching out as far as her eyes could see. Their branches, she noted, covered one another and formed a canopy entirely without leaves. That is to say, all the trees of this forest were dead. It was a good thing she was elvish, she noted; not even the barest hints of light shone through that dark roof of tree-limbs above, leaving only her darkvision to guide her between the trees.

Slowly, She stood, heart still pounding as resolve found its way to her; her ritual, as unlikely as it was, had worked. Now...she had to find Death, and issue her challenge. She stepped from the stone square platform she began upon down to the cold, hard dirt of the forest floor, and began to walk.

And walk...

And walk...

Eventually, she came upon a place where there were no trees; the forest floor curved downwards, a large ring forming atop a concave depression that continued downwards until it plateaued in an ovoid shape of flat forest ground at the bottom. In that ovoid space, she saw a long, black, rectangular wooden table, with two chairs, one on either of the table’s shorter ends, also made from black wood. When she walked down into the depression, she knew that this had to be it. She approached the chair nearest to her, and she looked to the other side. For an instant, she blinked, like any normal creature would...

...And there was a figure in the other chair.

Pale skin, at least seven feet tall, male, elvish (something she noted with particular curiosity), bald-headed, and skin like old, wrinkled leather that was pulled taut over withered bones. His eyes were sunken in, so much so that She could not even see the whites, nevermind the pupils. The figure’s lips were pulled taut to a line, and he was clad in the simple, dark robes of the most humble morticians and grave-tenders. He had a hunched back, and crooked, wizened fingers that ended in long, inch-length pointed nails, which looked honestly more like claws. His hands folded together as he stared her down.

“Good evening, ███,” her voice resounded with a tone that almost startled her. She spoke with a measure of confidence, a kind of sureness, one that she definitely did not feel inside. Then, she sat down, pulling out the seat and acting as though she was supposed to be here. His eyes remained locked onto her.

“Good evening, my would-be usurper,” croaked the echoing voice of the old entity, thin lips curling up into a smile that was far too wide. “Tell me, what is your name?” A smirk came to her face then, beneath the mask, and she puffed her chest out, hands folding in her lap. Proudly, she responded;

“You may call me the Raven Queen.” ███ seemed to perk up at that. She had not used that name, not even once, before now. It had been entirely secret, again, for her own safety, so ███ could not associate the name with her true identity, and wipe her out then and there. She had guessed that many had tried to challenge Him before, and each time, they had used some alias or name that could be traced back to them. That was how he had always won.

Not this time.

“You have managed to succeed where so many failed, and before we begin, I must earnestly congratulate you for that.” He said, still looking her over, she guessed. The Raven Queen’s eyes narrowed, and she scanned his face for any attempt at deceit...only, she found none. He meant his congratulations, and if anything, he almost seemed to admire her.

Something about that fact unsettled her.

“Your congratulations are appreciated and noted, but I would like to save celebrations for until after I have won.” Her tone was harsh, but calm. She didn’t want to let their conversation stray too far afield from the contest, and she definitely didn’t need him trying to fish for information on her identity. Responding to her words, he raised a brow, and let out a raspy chuckle,

“A surprisingly even-headed perspective from one who would be arrogant enough to challenge death itself. Intriguing,” he brought one long finger to his chin, regarding her curiously. She spoke up again in response, tensing her jaw beneath the mask.

“My motivations are not part of my business here, ███. Do you accept my challenge?” As those words left her lips, ███’s hunch entirely disappeared, and he sat up straight, looking down at her from across the table.

“How polite,” he hissed sarcastically, smile vanishing, “yes, I have no choice but to accept your challenge. What will be our contest?” That hit the Raven Queen like a bulette out of nowhere; what would be their contest? She hadn’t specified it in the ritual, she assumed since she was the challenger, he would pick their contest. However, after a momentary surprise (and a raised eyebrow from ███), she spoke up, smiling like this was expected.

“Verbal Hide and Seek.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You asked what our contest would be. I am choosing a game of wits; you may ask me three questions, and I will give three answers. After the third, you must take no more than a minute to consider, and then guess my identity. If you guess correctly, then you may wipe me from the face of the universe, as you have intended this whole time. If you guess wrong...then I win, and I may usurp you.”

███ considered that for a moment, thinking to himself. This was one hell of a gamble, but it made sense; she’d had to go to so much effort and through so much preparation to disguise herself without magic, so having the contest be centered around that meant she could sidestep a direct fight, and avoid any sort of physical or magical contests. It was clever, so much so she’d have praised herself for it had she been in her younger days.

Except... she didn’t have made up answers ready for this. Would she be able to bullshit it? Would she even be successful at lying to d-

“Two stipulations.” He interrupted her thoughts, holding up a finger, “First: I cannot ask direct questions about your identity, such as ‘who are you’ or ‘who are your best friends,’ et cetera. Second, however: you cannot lie in your answers. You may answer the question vaguely if you wish, but any falsehoods will result in an automatic victory for me, and the destruction of you. Agreed?”

Oh. The Raven Queen considered that for a moment; that sort of solved the lying issue, didn’t it? As even a game as she could get with death himself. A deep breath, and then, she declared:

“Very well.” Her words were accompanied by a nod. He folded his hands and his eyes became like black voids staring through her soul. Immediately, the Raven Queen could feel an enchantment take hold of her, a mighty thing, like several sets of chains suddenly binding her, and yet nothing physical occurred. It must have been a spell, similar to Zone of Truth, she guessed. ███ sat in silence for a few moments longer, before he asked:

“What was your childhood like?”

“That is...vague and broad.”

“You chose the contest, you never mentioned how specific or broad I could get.”

Shit. He had her there. She had to answer.

“...Full of reading. Much of my early years that I can remember were spent nose-deep in books. Any friends I had often gifted me new tomes or spellbooks for my birthdays.”

“A scholar, pursuer of ancient knowledge and lore, hm? Ioun would be proud of you, child.” There was a light edge of sarcasm to that statement. “What prompted you to look into usurping me?” For that question, the Raven Queen needed no time to think, and her eyes went wide as she answered, almost hissing venom with her words:

“You are not just a god of death, ███, but a god of fate as well. You are the one who quietly arranges the challenges that my people may face. I believe you have been lazy and foolish in your efforts, and the incompetence of your efforts in creating challenges for mortals has resulted in a decadent, arrogant people who do not understand what forces they toy with. “I believe your efforts will, through these arrogant peoples, result in a catastrophic loss of life if they are not turned or halted. I believe, if things continue as they are, my people, mortal people, will burn by the millions, and part of me has wondered if this is not intentional, as you undoubtedly gain more power as more and more souls die at the same time, all of them held in your grasp before they have a chance to filter to the correct afterlives.” He did not shift his expression, so she continued, her fury swelling in her chest, “It is not your job to swallow as many mortals as you can get your hands on wholesale, so you can overwhelm and overtake the other gods. It is your job to shepherd those souls to the other gods and their domains, as dictated in the ancient contract you yourself composed eons ago. Perhaps you have forgotten that purpose over the millennia, but as a student of Death’s Design myself, I have not. And I will not let your folly continue to destroy us.”

He paused, and for a moment, the Raven Queen alighted on her moral superiority over him, and beneath the mask, she grinned. Then, however, he spoke.

“...You are a learned one. And with how much you know of me...you are a cleric of mine. That narrows the list severely. Not many take to my worship, and fewer still who are as learned as you are.” The Raven Queen’s stomach sank immediately, and she hissed in reflex at her own stupidity. If she went on a tirade like that again, she would be found out. She wrung her hands together, a nervous tick that, thankfully, he couldn’t see, above the table as he was. She was so close!

“...Yes. Ask your final question.” Her heart was pounding, eyes wide, sweat pouring down her face beneath the mask.

“What is the color of your eyes?”

Her mouth was dry. The Raven Queen’s eyes were an extremely rare genetic trait that she knew very few people in the world had. She would have to be as vague as she could be.

“My eyes are as the wings of an old raven.” Silver-black. That was true, and it was vague. It would have to do. He stared her down, and the magical seal...held. She had not been too vague. A few moments passed, that felt like forever, before, finally, he made his guess:

“...You are Telryn, daughter of Istmir, Warden of one of the great Elven city-states.”

She let out a gasp, almost doubling over as relief washed over her body; he guessed wrong, he guessed wrong, the god of death had aimed for her and had chosen WRONG!

She looked up at him, eyes wide and mad, and she grinned far too wide.

“You have guessed wrong,” she snarls, grinning, “And I have won our contest.”

For the first time, she could see his eyes in those sunken hollows--and they were wide in realization. In that instant, the universe blinked, and their positions flipped. She was not a mortal, she was the god, and he was the weak one. She knew entirely who he was, and so, in an instant, she rose, growing to his size, and she wiped him from reality. Nothing, not even his name, remained; only the memory that he had once existed, and that he does no longer.

From the material plane, all of this had been condensed into a single moment, as Rysela the Elven Noble vanished from the little chapel dedicated to the old death god, and everything fundamentally shifted as one god was torn from history to make way for a replacement.

The universe blinked.

And the Raven Queen was born.

#D&D #Writing #Raven Queen #Wow this clobbered me across the head but hey

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Find the Word Tag

A/N: Thank you so much for tagging me, @verkja! My words were single, double, cup, and serve, and I decided to use Embers of Eternity to fill them because Winds of War, while technically my WIP, is one massive spoiler for the Heirs of Tenebris trilogy😅 No pressure tagging: @ambiguouspuzuma, @puddleslimewrites, @faelanvance, @author-a-holmes, @violetcancerian, and anyone else who'd like to find the words: start, end, fire, and water in their writing✨

single

They are, Shamira said. Edwin blinked, stunned into still silence. The fur on Shamira’s neck bristled and settled within a single breath, like she was steeling herself. Nyla swallowed, fearing Shamira knew more than she and Xander could’ve possibly pieced together themselves. Shamira’s eyes misted, staring over all of their heads as she wove her tale.

The myths humans tell of the Shadow Forest are a history my kin have never forgotten. And in this way, by perpetuating these legends, neither has Tenebris.

double

All too soon, Xander was met with the double doors of the Lavender Room. Before he could even knock, one of the doors slowly cracked open. Through the opening, Xander caught sight of Nyla. Her head hung, and she sniffled. Xander saw the moment she stiffened upon realizing that someone was already at her door. Whipping her head up, Nyla’s red-rimmed eyes met his.

“Hi,” he whispered, giving her a broad, lopsided smile and a slow wave.

“Hi,” she responded quietly, her voice crackly. Stepping aside, she opened the door a little wider, motioning for him to come in. “What are you doing here?”

cup

Xander choked on his water.

“No, he hasn’t mentioned it.” Alexander eyed him.

“Sorry, it just didn’t seem like a good time.” Xander replaced his cup beside his plate and pushed his chair away from the table.

“You knew Nyla was going to challenge [REDACTED] publicly?”

So apparently in over 100k words, I only use "cup" once in Embers of Eternity. Who knew?😂 I also had to cut this passage down quite a bit because ✨spoilers✨

serve

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a delicate twig on either side of the aisle. As she continued to serve as a conduit for the energy flooding her and into the earth, the twigs grew into young trees. Buds bloomed on the ends of their branches as the trees grew taller and stronger.

Learn more about my Heirs of Tenebris trilogy here on Tumblr or shop Embers of Eternity at bit.ly/heirs02 (international link)

#tag games #writeblr tag games #find the word tag #find the word game #writers of tumblr #fantasy novel #fantasy books #Heirs of Tenebris trilogy #Embers of Eternity #my mutuals #THANKS FOR THE TAG!

[weirdopponent]

When she enlisted, Regan thought - she didn't know what she thought. She was there, when the Emperor took her seat. She was there, numb, tired, wondering what use a little girls' words would have for her, what she would gain from a war that wasn't hers. Regan's thought about it a lot since then. She has a list in her head of questions she would ask if she was the right person.

Regan was a butcher. The death throes of men are similar to those of pigs.

Generally speaking, war is boring. This is the first thing Regan learned. She isn't on the front lines, and she isn't a strategist. And if she was, she scarcely thinks that would change the fact. Rumors would have you believe Emperor Edelgard is a suspicious creature who scarcely trusts her own chair, let alone her generals. Regan would never know the battles for the war. And battles scarcely come her way. It's monotonous. It's empty.

Another thing she learned is that Faerghus is not as desolate as the nationalists would have you believe. About half of the propaganda she's seen so far tout it as a frozen wasteland rife with barbarians, that Adrestia can bring the finer things to its people, if they'd only come under her wing. The nearest town is wary of them. But Regan has more in common with the young man holding a chicken by its neck and a big knife in the other hand than she does with the child on the throne.

It is cold, though. It is terribly, terribly cold. The flowers that spring up here must be hardier than the feisty things they cultivate in Leicester, or the large bright flowers that unfurl only in the hot sun back home. Regan has a favorite - they are small blue flowers that grow in clusters. She doesn't see them in the forest, but the young man with the chicken coop has a sweetheart with a garden. They venture out into their homelands' cold spring with bare arms, and Regan wonders why.

She doesn't have a good reason for enlisting. If she'd been born richer, she would have been a painter. Her cheap paper curls under her cheap watercolors, and is covered in small blue flowers. If she trusts the words of a girl who is more likely a liar than an idealist, maybe her daughter will get to live like that. Regan sighs. She leans against a tree. Wishes she had a cigarette left.

She doesn't know why she is here, in an evergreen forest, in a hastily constructed waypoint. She sees only the trees. And -

Regan jolts, looks closer at the shadows, at how they choke out the new greenery, the stubborn snow. Jagged lines stretch out like a farmer's repurposed scythe, or

 perhaps a wicked crown, leading to - to a hart. A stately young man with an unseasonal rack. Red as the flag. Regan's hand twitches, she wonders at her bow. But -

The hart leans back. It looks at her with sweet brown eyes. Regan remembers the first piglet she ever held, and the first man she ever killed. She hesitates. She always hesitates. She cannot help hesitating. It will be the death of her.

It is so quiet between the two of them, even the birds do not sing. In Enbarr, when Ionius' family was slaughtered, the city was shocked into vigil. The silence is like a mourning, until a branch snaps, and the hart is startled into flight. It bounds back into the rich green shadows, and Regan wonders - she wonders why the birds are silent.

She is facing the forest, so she doesn't see the danger. There is a clamor behind her, a shout and the sound of swords being drawn.

The beast is shrouded in furs, black and blue and white. Its hair is long and lank, and covers its face. There is - fuck, it's drenched in blood, the steel tip of a lance slick with it. The steel tip turns down, and is driven through Edmund's stomach. Edmund is 19. Regan only watches, frozen. A red hart faces a butcher.

She has an advantage, maybe. If the beast does not look for her, perhaps it will not see her. Regan's bow is sturdy, but her aim has never been the best, and the beast moves erratically - not unlike an injury, or something like an injury. If she could just get a better shot - Regan steps forward, right into a twig.

The… thing… it turns to face her. It snarls, its mouth levering open with some amount of difficulty. She cannot - Regan's never seen anything like it, skin so gray and sunken, so many stitches on someone still living, still shaped like a human. Such a fog in its mismatched eyes. She hesitates. She always hesitates. She cannot help hesitating. It raises an arm and throws its lance.

It hits.

#frankenstein au (wip) #wip #fire emblem three houses #feth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #he only appears a little bit lol #since this parts mostly from a minor ocs perspective #lol when i was writing this i asked ren if regan should die or live and he said die and then got UPSET AT ME when i killed her!!!!!!!! #it was so silly. i was honestly kinda proud since i figured that meant i made her likable in the brief time you get to know her #i dont think the death n violence in this is so bad as to warrant an entire tag community or otherwise

[ruki--mukami]

[Landing onto the branch above the eldest brother of the manor, the eldest didn’t sense the winged animal in his presence never breaking concentration from his book. That was until the Eagle swooped down claws landing onto the chair cushions before transforming into his form]

“Salutations,Ruki I’ve heard you’d never met a Adler before? My apologies for the unaccounted drop by into your territory. I’m Massanori. Us Alders are territorial with our home and the riches that come with it, anyone who dares steal from us is executed on sight.”

"...Oi. Who goes there?"

Shutting his book in surprise, Ruki turned around to face the rustling of a tree branch and several of its verdant leaves swaying under the weight of the Adler perched upon it, steel blue eyes immediately discerning the demon as a member of the realm he once grew accustomed to during his time in Eden with Karlheinz as well as his other siblings. After hearing the Eagle explain himself, the Vampire surmised he posed little to no threat, especially when he never once resorted to thievery.

"Greetings, Massanori. I'm Ruki Mukami. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he set the novel atop the nightstand, opening the window of his bedroom to gain a better look at the man before him. "It's no inconvenience whatsoever, but now that we are acquainted at least warn me beforehand. I can assure you my brothers and I are not after whatever riches and fortune lie in the Adler territory. So, what brings you here? Don't tell me you've suffered a robbery recently."

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #rp #diabolik lovers rp #diabolik lovers roleplay #ask-maki-mukami #massanori #(( omg this is the fabled adler oc- ))

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

Lily nodded to Albedo "yes~! Can we meet his family too~, Angel~?" she asked with wondering eyes back to Rubedo still patting the fox who now slowly moves closer to the two looks like Ruby.

Vincent giggled at the end of this whole conversation between the brothers. He used playfully his Hydro tentacles to wrap around Nigredo and Albedo securely in chair like position causing the little fox to jump back behind Rubedo's legs as it watch "this is one method to enjoy this trip, the last I need is you two not enjoying the exploration due to some hiking difficulties~" he said with gentle smile as he moved his index finger up it started to move them up high to reach the highest branch of the next by tree for a moment before he gently placed them back on their feet "these are helpful in so many ways not only washing stuff. And you're all under my care, so I'll left you both up alongside Lily at any points of hiking that you find tiring and you can walk on your own in the normal road again" he explained with nod before he heard a small cheer from his daughter "big brothers are going to fly like me~" she seemed happy to see that the watery arms will be helping Nigredo too.

The fox made funny but cute noises as it slowly walking closer to Vincent who leaned to gently pet its head "you know? Some of these foxes do rest in this forest. I remember seeing a group of them around the area where a Ninja clan training, when I was drawing some landscapes" he said looking at Albedo

“Steel yourselves,” Albedo said. “There’s a good chance we’ll run into Lady Yae at the shrine. She has quite a knack for figuring out what makes people tick and zeroing in.”

“I’ll live,” Nigredo assured. “And I doubt even someone with Lady Yae’s reputation could find it in herself to bully my precious Ru-BY?!”

“?!”

Both alchemists yelped as they were suddenly lifted off the ground.

“Th-there’s no need for that, Vincent,” Albedo assured once he was back on solid ground. “I scale Dragonspine all the time. I’ll be fine.”

“As will I!” Nigredo insisted.

———

Nigredo, as it turns out, was not fine by the time they’d passed under the third tori gate on the mountain, coat slung over his shoulder as he was covered in sweat, breathing heavily.

“H-hold on…” he wheezed. “Break…”

Albedo, no worse for wear than when they’d started their climb, shook his head and clicked his tongue before pulling out a small flask and handing it to the other. “Here. It’s water mixed with some herbs that have revitalizing properties. Just because your Corruption is under control doesn’t mean you can just start pushing yourself past your limit…”

Too tired to even come up with a witty reply, Nigredo snatched the flask and chugged its contents, glaring at the other the whole time.

#moon answers shit #vincent anon #rhinesons au

[ozlightsdirect]

4 Deck Lighting Ideas

Decks today serve as completely functional outdoor living spaces with cosy chairs, pots filled with colorful flowers and scrumptious herbs, bubbling fountains, and lovely pergolas. The secret to a deck's ambience at night? optimal lighting.

Evenings on a deck may be lovely. It's where memorable memories are created, excellent grilled meals are served, and lights are lit. Check out this blog for the 4 best deck lighting ideas. 

Steps and Posts

Lighting deck posts and stairs is common knowledge. They usually serve as the first line of defense against a deck that is completely black. Stainless Steel Deck Lights lights are a perfect match for the riser, the vertical portion of your deck stairs that directs light downward onto the step directly under it. They provide enough light to be safe, yet it is not distracting because it is so soft. In the daytime, it is hardly apparent because the fixture is built into the stair. Even at night, the stairs and the gentle lighting are what catch your eye—not the fixture.

The most popular technique to add lighting to your deck is using Exterior LED lights that tuck beneath a post cap. When you're seated, they might be an eye-level distraction but they also provide a wonderful cosy atmosphere for entertaining.

Instead of mounting it at the normal 36-inch height, think about mounting accent lighting on the side of the post, perhaps 18 inches above the deck. Instead of shining in your eyes, this will throw a gentle glow downward.

Introduce undercap lights

Undercap Stainless Steel Deck Lights are necessary if your deck has built-in benches for seating. These discrete fixtures, which cast light downward, are made to be hidden.

They provide safe, non-glare illumination hidden behind the edge of your seat, creating a lovely pool of light at your feet. 

Add Moonlighting 

An upward-angled light fixture is positioned high in a tree close to your deck. The result? Exterior LED Deck Lights like moonlight filtering across the trees. The shadow patterns that the leaves and branches cast on your deck feel natural and look gorgeous.

Decks are the best places to moonlight. You may joyfully amuse your visitors beneath your "moonlit" sky if there are trees overhead since the light will pass through them and cast interesting shadows.

Don't stress over your trees getting damaged. Only mature trees that we are certain can handle lights have them installed. We utilize stainless steel screws to prevent sickness and harm from them. As part of our yearly service contract, we'll come back to tighten the screws as the tree grows. 

No trees? No issue. For the same effect, we may install lights high up in the eaves of your home.

Exterior LED Strip Deck Lights

One of the most popular exterior LED deck lighting solutions on the market this year, LED strip lights have enormous potential for your deck.

These flexible strips have small LED lights embedded in them, just as the name implies. They are pre-roll packaged and frequently feature an adhesive backing.

They come in a variety of colors and have the ability to change hues. You may see the light but not the source since they stow stealthily behind your deck rails or stair steps.  Observe a pattern here? The ideal LED deck lighting is understated, covert, and concealed. It shouldn't interfere with your interaction, entertainment, or late-night cuddling.  We conceal the wire so that you are unaware of its presence on the tree's invisible side.

We'd love to hear from you if you want your deck to be an enchanted, passionate spot to spend your nights. Contact OZ lighting today.

#Exterior LED Deck Lights #Stainless Steel Deck Lights

[faeryarchives]

accidental confessions (fem!reader)

malleus and leona part can be found here!

wherein person accidentally let out a longing confession to their crush but what they didn't know that person b is listening to them all along

: ̗̀➛ riddle rosehearts

"riddle, why don't you get some air in the garden for a while? you've been answering the same question two hours now."

a sigh escaped from the heartslabyul dorm leader's lips as his steel grey eyes scanned trough the document in his hand.

today was just like any other day, doing schoolworks and making sure that the students in their dorm are still following the rules.

"it's just because the formula i've been using seems to be wrong and i keep getting different results whenever i double check it." he turn to trey who was still surprisingly in his gym uniform.

"i would love to help you but mister vargas assigned me a task. if you ever spot cater tell him that 'trey would like to have his notes back'." the second year nodded as the vice dorm leader left the room.

riddle stared out of the window, his stress being ease at the sight of the rose garden from his window. "it wouldn't hurt to walk around the garden i guess."

"i don't even know why am i here." (name) muttered as she watch how ace and deuce complaining about painting the roses while patting the sleeping grim's fur.

ace let out a whine and sat on the floor, feeling his arms tired from all the painting. "(naaaaame)! i thought you were going to help us!"

"actually i didn't. i just said that i was coming with you. not to help you."

"she is right you know." deuce put the paint brush in to the bucket, a smirk on his face when he looked at his friends. "i think (name) came to see a certain someone. isn't that right?"

this cause the girl to blush furiously, making the first year claim to be true. "i certainly did not come see riddle! i am just watching you guys in case you get in trouble again." her words made the two let out roars of laughter, even the little monster in her arms joined in.

"(name), ace's stupidity is rubbing off you."

"so it was riddle!"

"ahahah who would've thought!"

"hey, i couldn't help it!" (name) leaned back on her chair, looking up at the sky with a soft look on her face and didn't notice the nearby footsteps approaching.

"i just love how he is very dedicated not just with his studies but also to being a dorm leader?"

"(n-name) i think you should turn around?" the blueberry haired boy nervously said, trying to make the girl stop before she could say anything more to reveal her feelings but she just kept on going.

"i think, we already lost her deuce." the two watch as (name) become indulge in her own world.

"-oh god don't let me get started on how cute riddle is when he got me as one of the judge in the masterchef event back then he looks so happy when he receive a 10 out of 10!" the girl then close her eyes, causing her not to notice the hand gestures the two first year students sending her to let her know about the figure just right behind her.

"i just love you so much riddle..."

being shocked, riddle, who was behind her all this time, took a step back causing him to break a random branch on the floor. talk about good timing!

the sound made the (color) haired girl cover her mouth and turn around to came face to face with a very red faced strawberry.

"r-riddle?!"

"ok we will leave you two alone ahihi." ace snickered while grabbing grim by the nape as they disappeared somewhere, leaving the two blushing dorks in the garden.

"a-ahem! that's so interesting. would you like to talk to me more then? i would love to listen to your stories."

: ̗̀➛ azul ashengrotto

as usual, the octavinelle dorm leader is in his vip room, counting the sales and helping the poor unfortunate students to find the solution to their problems. even though it is a usual day, azul could still feel fatigue coming up to him.

"jade?"

yes azul?"

"how many people are left for the consultation?"

the eel let out a hum, exiting the room and moments later entering again. a smile on the vice dorm leader's face appeared as if he was glad about something. "thankfully, there is only one left for the day but floyd grabbed the person earlier so you can take a short break."

"i see, tell him to let the last one come in if you ever find him so that we could compare the sales afterwards." jade bowed before leaving azul alone in the room.

the octopus let out a sigh before looking at the photo of him and a certain (hair) colored haired girl on his phone, he could feel a smile slowly appeared on his face.

"i haven't seen the prefect for a while now, i wonder how she is doing."

"floyd, as much as i love your hugs i really want to see azul right now~" (name) whined as she tried getting out of the eel's grasp, floyd let out a whining cry.

"but shrimpy~! i missed you so much!" the girl finally got out of his hold, a look of longing evident in her eyes. "i miss you too! but i miss azul so much floyd, i see you around with jade but i haven't even see my favorite octopus it makes me so sad!" (name) pouted and crossed her arms, remembering how she tried going after the octavinelle dorm leader only to be stopped by crowley and his requests.

"so are you going to confess to azul~?"

"that's a crazy idea. what am i supposed to say? azul, i like you so much - you look so adorable when you try out things that are new to you and i really like your merform even though i just saw it once but i will fight anyone who will talk shit behind you?"

the girl stopped when she saw floyd's grin widen while looking at something behind her making her turn around and she swore she just saw her ancestors right then and there from shame.

there behind her was the vip room, very wide open. she found azul blushing and burying his face into his hands from hearing those compliments. especially from her. jade was standing beside the door, sharing the same grin with his twin.

"its funny because you just basically confessed~!"

"azul, it's not what it's look like!"

"oh it is everything that it looks like."

"... s-shall we talk during our consultation?"

: ̗̀➛ jamil viper

"kalim, how many times would i tell you not to mix up the sugar and salt while creating your coffee."

"my bad my bad jamil sorry!" the vide dorm leader of scarabia couldn't help but shake his head, probably expecting that the dorm leader would do it again.

as jamil brewed another coffee, he turn to kalim who looked like he was searching for snacks? "why were you making coffee anyway? you rarely drink coffee."

"oh that! (name) and i were studying in the library when she said she suddenly feel sleepy. so i thought why not make her coffee?"

he couldn't believe what he just heard. kalim studying in the library? studying? and especially with the ramshackle dorm prefect? is this even real?

before jamil could ask kalim about the girl in the library again - the boy let out a gasp, almost dropping the wattle bottle in hand.

"i forgot about our warm welcome in the light music club! see you later!"

"what about (name)?!"

"please tell her something came up huhu there are first years interested in our club and lilia said we should be there to welcome them!" with that, kalim was already gone - his hurried footsteps slowly fade until jamil realized something.

"... if she is in the library maybe i should make her some snacks as well."

on the other hand, (name) let out a yawn, sleepy tears prickling her eyes as she try to continue writing her notes to review for the upcoming exam in history. "why don't you try sleeping for a while henchman? history is especially hard to understand if you are sleepy!"

"who are you and what have you done to my gremlin grim?"

"hey i am being nice! and it's boring here in the library and the great grim is bored! when will you finish writing your notes?"

"okay mind you, one of us need to study for the exam. and you can go find ace because i think i'll be right here until finish up until chapter 3." the girl ushered the complaining cat out of the library and patted his head before he left. stretching her limbs, (name) went back to her table - feeling the urge to close her tired eyes.

"i think i would just take a short break. my eyes are getting tired from reading." as she closed her eyes and leaned on the table, jamil entered the library quietly with a tray of coffee and snacks.

"where is she? oh there, (na-" the words got stuck in his throat when he spotted the girl with her eyes close on a nearby table, not wanting to wake her up.

"oh so you were sleeping... what a shame." jamil gently put the tray on the table as he sat next to (name), humming quietly as he looked at the notes she had been writing.

"history huh... no wonder you've been stressed lately." while jamil became occupied with her notes, (name) was internally panicking - fighting the urge to hide her blush.

'why is jamil here? isn't it supposed to be kalim?! why am i pretending anyway? grim i miss you come back i am going to cry.' the male put a strand of her (color) hair behind the girl's ear with a soft smile.

"you always do your best to learn everything from the scratch, that is pretty amazing. this is maybe one of the reason i fell for you.' his sudden confession made the girl suddenly open her eyes and stand up - her face blushing brightly.

"i-um hi jamil?"

"were you awake this whole time?" his face was also covered by blush when the girl slowly nodded and hid behind the hood of his hoodie. silence fall over the two until (name) cleared up her throat and sat next to him again, she is still blushing but jamil could see the happy look in her eyes.

"i was about to finish writing my notes a-anyway. do you want to hang out?"

#twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #faeryarchives #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle roseheart x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland

[five-rivers]

Mentorship

Hello, hello, @ectopal. This is holiday fic #2 for you. This is for prompt 1, Vlad mentoring and redemption! Admittedly, this is pretty early in both, he's still very morally grey, but I hope you enjoy!

.

.

.

The party was in full swing and going well, by all commonly accepted measurements. The music wasn’t too loud, there was more than enough food, everyone was eating and drinking, dancing and smiling.

Vlad sighed. The party was a success, but, despite his best efforts… It just wasn’t satisfying. How could it be? Jack was making a fool of himself more thoroughly than Vlad could ever have arranged, and yet the man seemed to have no sense of embarrassment whatsoever.

And Maddie was still irreversibly enamored of him.

Vlad was tempted to go up to his study, transform into Plasmius, possess Jack and make him do truly horrible things, or maybe just--

Vlad closed his eyes and swallowed, carefully counting down from ten. When he reached zero, he opened them again. Therapy wasn’t something he was pleased about needing, about taking, but he was trying to… trying to do it seriously. He was trying to do better, to not let all this get the better of him.

His therapist had encouraged him to make amends. To reach out.

Of course, he couldn’t exactly return all the wealth he’d stolen to its so-called ‘rightful owners,’ not without explaining that he’d stolen it in the first place, and he didn’t exactly want to do that. With Jack, well, he wasn’t the one who had to make amends, was he? Why should he reach out when Jack certainly wasn’t?

Maddie, on the other hand…

He leaned over the balustrade, looking down at the ballroom, watching the dancers and… Whatever Jack was doing. It honestly couldn’t be called dancing by any reasonable person.

The whole scene was depressing. And the music was giving him a headache.

Well. No one would notice if he disappeared for a little bit. The night was long, and although he was the host of this reunion, he’d hired more than enough staff to take care of things without any real input from himself.

He climbed the stairs to his study. He’d just lean back in his big chair for a few minutes. Read over his notes from his last therapy session. Perhaps take a nap.

This plan was discarded the minute he opened the door. The emergency entrance to his lab, the secret passage opened by the gold football decoration, was wide open. His mouth went dry. One of the guests must have come up here, probably to steal something or to find some dirt on him, he knew not everyone on his guest list was exactly what he’d call successful, and had accidentally bumped into the trigger. It had to be an accident. For someone to come here already knowing…

Vlad did not especially wish to contemplate that scenario. He’d already done a number of… distasteful things… to protect himself against those who would have used him and his abilities. He did not want to repeat that time in his life.

He could only hope the intruder was still down there, and that they could be silenced easily. But then, if they weren’t down there, they wouldn’t have left the door open, would they? No. Not if they had any kind of wits about them at all.

Perhaps, in the best case scenario, the intruder was merely a drunk and lost party guest and Vlad could convince them the lab was an elaborate homage to some science fiction movie. He was rich! Rich people were allowed to be ridiculous and eccentric.

He walked into the passage, steeling himself for what he might have to do in the name of keeping the GIW (and other branches of the law) far, far away from his person.

He touched a hidden button on the wall as he walked, closing the passage behind him. An intruder would be hard-pressed to find it again to open the passage. They would be trapped here with him.

Vlad descended.

The lights in his lab were dim, and for a moment, he couldn’t sense anything out of place, could not detect the intruder, the outsider, he knew must be there. Nothing seemed missing. The computer monitors slept. The equipment analyzing his most personal projects hummed steadily, undisturbed.

But the light was just slightly dimmer than it should be. Vlad turned to the portal. It had cost him more than he would like to admit to get it up and running, not to mention countless hours spying on Jack and Maddie and longing… But that didn’t matter now.

What mattered was the slender silhouette that stood starkly against the portal’s swirling mists.

Too slight to be an adult. Even Harriet was taller than that. A child, then. He let himself have some relief. Children were easily influenced, easily manipulated, and often not believed when it came to something as fantastical as this.

But the only children at the party were Jack and Maddie’s children. Jasmine and Daniel. Both of whom would know what they were looking at the second they stepped into the lab.

Butter biscuits.

Overshadowing could often erase short-term memory, although the process had never been as smooth or as reliable as Vlad would like. Better to find out what the boy knew, what the boy thought he knew, now, before taking such a measure. It would make it easier to discredit him, should he remember something.

“Hello, Daniel,” he said, softly. As much of a threat as the boy’s knowledge - or lack thereof - could pose to him, he didn’t wish the boy harm. He especially did not want Daniel to startle and fall through the portal. That would be tedious to deal with at best.

The boy whirled, instantly ready for a fight, his eyes flashing green, the color briefly illuminating his features. But then they were shadowed again, only Vlad’s superior vision allowing him to pick up the boy’s startled expression against the vivid backlight of the active portal.

“Uh,” said Daniel, not relaxing from his stance he had taken. A fighting stance, if Vlad wasn’t terribly mistaken. “Mr. Masters. Um.” He slowly pulled himself back, back into the mask of an ordinary, defenseless teen. “I’m sorry for coming down here, but… You have a ghost portal.”

Vlad let the statement stretch into the soft white noise that filled the lab. Perhaps what he had seen had merely been a reflection of the portal’s light, combined with Maddie’s proclivity for martial arts potentially rubbing off on her son… but Vlad didn’t think so. That was the reaction of someone who had seen combat, and those eyes belonged to a ghost.

Now, Daniel Fenton could be overshadowed. There were few ghosts who could hide the color of their eyes when overshadowing another, however, and Vlad hadn’t made any enemies with that particular skill.

Which led to a conclusion so laughable that Vlad had to reject it out of hand. He could not forgive Jack, or even Maddie, for not noticing he was dying in that hospital room all those years ago, for not noticing that he had died, but he could understand it. Surely, even they would notice the death of their own child. Anything else… No. The child was overshadowed.

That was the only logical, rational, sane conclusion to the puzzle he was faced with.

As for why… Well, ghosts were neither logical, rational, nor sane a large portion of the time. If Vlad tried to comprehend everything they did, he would likely go insane himself.

No matter. This would be easily solved. He seriously doubted a ghost weak and cowardly enough to hide in a child would have the strength to prevent Vlad from throwing it out.

“Yes,” said Vlad. “I do. And I wonder, for what reason have you come through it?”

The boy blinked, expression blank for a split second, and then--

Fear. Fear thick enough for Vlad to taste even in human form.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” said the boy. “I’m not a ghost.”

“Or,” said Vlad, “perhaps it isn’t my portal you came through--”

The boy bolted around one of the lab tables, doubtlessly trying to avoid Vlad and dash up the stairs.

Vlad, for his part, simply stepped through the table, intangibility a cool, familiar wash, cutting Daniel - or, rather, the ghost overshadowing him - off.

The boy gaped.

Vlad smirked. It was, he supposed, gauche of him to relish the surprise and fear he induced in ghosts encountering him, a living human with ghost powers, for the first time. But he took simple pleasures where he could. Indulgence was not a sin.

Speaking of indulgence… He let his rings snap into being and sweep over him. Years ago, he’d traded the lab coat and turtleneck he’d first formed in for a more formal and imposing suit, but otherwise he looked much as he had that day.

Only deader.

If Vlad had thought the ghost was gaping before, he didn’t even know what to call the expression now making its home on the boy’s face. Daniel’s blue eyes were perfectly round, their whites showing on all sides, and all the blood had drained from his face. It was fascinating, really. Most of the time, an overshadowing ghost didn’t have that much influence over the host when it came to subconscious or involuntary emotional responses.

But Vlad wasn’t about to let himself be distracted from the task at hand. He put his hand on one of the boy’s shoulders and pushed.

Nothing happened.

Rather stunned at his failure, Vlad stared for a moment. This was more than enough time for the boy to grab Vlad’s wrist.

“You too?” he asked in a rather pathetic, broken, voice, tears glistening in his eyes. “You too?”

Vlad was about to demand clarification when two bright rings snapped into being around the boy’s waist. By the time they disappeared again, Vlad…

Vlad had questions.

Many questions.

.

“I don’t mean to keep you from your party,” said Daniel, rather shyly, after they’d been talking for half an hour.

“Nonsense, dear boy,” said Vlad. “I can throw all the parties I want, but it isn’t often that a fellow human-ghost hybrid walks into my home.”

“By often,” said Danny, jumping on something like hope, “do you mean--”

“Never,” said Vlad, cutting Danny off. “You’re the only person like me I’ve ever met. I’ve… encountered a few ghosts who can fake life, but… It isn’t the same.”

“Yeah,” said Danny. Spectra and Johnny… it really wasn’t the same. “But… No one?”

“No one,” said Vlad. “I fear that we are the only ones.”

“How did… How did it happen, for you? Dad mentioned something about a proto-portal, but--” He cut himself off. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t ask things like that.” Ghosts didn’t usually like to discuss what… what made them ghosts.

“It’s fine,” said Vlad. “I can certainly understand your curiosity. It was the accident with the proto-portal. My transformation was… not quick. I must assume that your current state was also caused by a portal. Perhaps the one your parents finished recently?”

Danny nodded mutely.

“Then we have another thing in common. We are both victims of your father’s foolishness.”

“I mean, I don’t know he was the one who left the portal plugged in…”

“Your mother was always very conscientious about lab safety, so I must assume it was,” countered Vlad, rather haughtily. He sniffed, then relaxed somewhat, reaching towards Danny’s hand. Their gloves contrasted oddly against one another, their glows somehow clashing despite being very nearly the same color. “Daniel. As someone who knows what you’re going through… You are doing very well. This was all very frightening for me to try to figure out on my own, and I was older. I would like to offer to, well, mentor you, I suppose. Help you find some balance with your powers.”

Parts of Vlad’s speech felt oddly rehearsed, as if he was stealing lines from someone else. That did not make it seem less heartfelt.

“We’re going back to Amity Park tomorrow,” said Danny. “I can’t really visit on my own.” Even flying, it was a bit too far.

“Do you have a phone?”

“Not my own. I… don’t know that you’d want to call the landline.”

Vlad grimaced, then floated over to one of the cabinets across the lab. He pulled a plastic package out, wrote something on the back, and tossed it to Danny. “Here,” he said. “It’s a burner. Pre-paid. My number is on the back.”

“You can’t give me a phone! I only just met you!”

“Phones are cheap. Especially burner phones,” said Vlad. “I am one of the richest men in the world.” He paused. “However, if it makes you uncomfortable--”

“No! It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Danny. “I was just… surprised.” Surprised that Vlad already cared so much so fast.

“I can also…” Vlad sighed. “Extend my invitation towards your parents by a few days. Talk up the sightings of the ‘Dairy King Ghost.’”

Danny giggled. “He’s not real, is he?”

“Oh, heavens, he’s quite real. My uncle, as a matter of fact. He merely tends to keep to himself.”

Danny instantly sobered. “I don’t want him to get hurt by my parents.”

“In his own haunt? Unlikely,” said Vlad. “In any case, that would allow us to work on a few things while they’re out of the way. Tips and tricks, as it were. Or simply a sympathetic ear.”

“I… Think I would like that,” said Danny. “If you can do it without the Dairy King getting hurt.”

.

Later, after most of the guests had either left for their hotels or their guest rooms in the mansion, Vlad sent one of his duplicates to slash the tires on the Fenton GAV and pour out all the… ‘gas’ in its tank.

(Vlad shuddered, remembering what was actually in that tank.)

Vlad’s original, however, stayed inside, in front of his computer, researching exactly what offenses could cause a person to lose custody of a child. He hadn’t spent much time spying on the part of the Fenton household that was actually a home. The few times he had felt voyeuristic, especially after an extended conversation with his therapist about it. He’d been more focused on technological achievements that could impact his life and existence.

He hadn’t seen any real evidence of abuse or neglect.

But Jack and Maddie hadn’t noticed Daniel’s death and subsequent transformation into a ghost. If they hadn’t noticed that, or if they simply hadn’t cared, well, there had to be something wrong with them. There had to be evidence.

If there wasn’t…

If there was no evidence, Vlad would simply make some. There was no way on Earth or the Infinite Realms that he would let Daniel, the only other person like him, the only one who could hope to understand, slip through his fingers. Wouldn’t lose him to Jack’s irrational hatred of ghosts and the violence that went along with it. Wouldn’t lose him even to something as mundane as distance.

No. Daniel was his. His by virtue of being the only other one of his kind. His by the hand of fate itself. His, and Vlad would keep him. One way or another.

#danny phantom #ectopal #holiday truce #holiday truce 2021 #phandom holiday truce 2021 #phandomholidaytruce #phandom holiday truce

[clareguilty]

A Tainted Rescue Part 2

hello! i cannot escape my own terrible ideas! Have more Heisenberg porn! Karl Heisenberg/Maiden Rating: Explicit | WARNING: dark content, explicit smut, big sexy evil guy doing bad things Word Count: ~2500

Lord Heisenberg lifted the maiden into his carriage and pulled her onto his lap as the mechanical horse took off away from the castle. She shook and cried in his arms, whimpering with every rattle of the wheels on the unpaved path to the Lord's domain.

"You're safe now," he promised her. "I'm going to take good care of you."

She clung to him, face buried in his chest as he ran his hand up and down her back in a slow, steady rhythm. Her breathing began to even out and her sobs turned to sporadic hiccups the farther they traveled from that horrid castle.

Lord Heisenberg was extremely proud of himself. He had managed to pull one over on Alcina all while getting a delightful new toy to play with. She was so precious, so perfect. He would have to make sure to spoil her rotten.

Just outside of the factory grounds, covered in overgrown plants, a small stone staircase led up to Lord Heisenberg’s house. He helped the maiden up the worn steps, holding branches out of the way as they ducked through the overgrowth. 

“I never actually use this place,” he explained. “I spend most of my time in the factory. But that’s no place for you. Now I finally have someone to come home to.” He kissed her knuckles as he led her across the threshold.

The lights were electric, and they turned on at a wave of the Lord’s hand. He chuckled at the maiden's awestruck expression.

The house was a mess, dusty and cluttered. It must have been months since the Lord actually stayed there. Narrow and tucked into the hillside, the two story was smaller than Lady Beneviento’s villa but still larger than almost any of the houses of the village. 

“Heh,” he laughed wryly. “Looks like this place needs a lot of work.”

He led the maiden up the stairs and to the main chamber. The room was sparsely furnished with just a low double bed, a wardrobe, and a writing desk piled high with books and papers and the same scrap metal that seemed to appear throughout the Lord’s domain. It was nothing like the opulent and immaculate rooms of the castle.

The maiden let Lord Heisenberg push her to a seat on the bed. He knelt in front of her, squeezing her jaw in one hand and forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“I may not be as fucked as my witch of a sister, but let me make one thing clear. I am not above killing you. You will stay out of my factory. Understand?”

The maiden whimpered, tears once again threatening to spill over her cheeks. “Yes, My Lord.”

He released her jaw and patted her cheek lightly. “Good girl.” He shucked off his coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair. His hat and glasses were quick to follow. He sat beside her on the bed and unlaced his boots.

The maiden removed her own shoes -- the only things she wore that were intact. Her stockings were shredded, as were her skirts. She didn’t even have any drawers on anymore. The front of her dress was ripped down to her stomach, and she tugged the fabric over her shoulders and out from under her until it fell in a puddle on the floor. She was naked and bruised and marked. She felt filthy, used, ruined. But that was what the Lord said was needed to save her. If he hadn’t done what he had, she would be dead at the hands of the Mistress.

The Lord must have seen her numbness, her distress, because he pulled her into his chest and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Hey now,” he whispered. “She can’t touch you here. I’d like to see her try.” He sounded as if he would welcome the fight. “Let me make you feel good.”

He laid the maiden on her back and nudged her thighs apart so he could kneel between her legs. The sight of the damage he had done at the castle brought a smile to his face, and he pressed his fingers into the bruises that were blooming across her thighs.

With no preamble, he pressed two fingers inside of her, crooking them and stretching her open. The maiden whined and gripped the linens with white knuckles. The Lord was only spurred on by her reaction and added a third finger. He loved the way she tightened around him, and longed to feel it on his cock again.

Despite her inexperience, it was no time at all before she was dripping just from the motions of his fingers. He made sure to bring her right to the brink of pleasure, holding her just on that precipice as he pulled his cock from his pants and lined himself up.

He pressed into her slowly, lifting her hips to meet his and bracing himself over her on the bed. She was trapped beneath him, nearly bent in half as his cock split her open once more. It felt even deeper than before, and she couldn’t hold back her high, breathy whines as he began to move. He moaned as he drove his cock into her harder and harder on each stroke.

“You feel amazing. So soft. So tight. You’re all mine. Just for me.”

“All yours,” the maiden repeated. “Just for you.”

“Oh, you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “She didn’t deserve you. She could never have made you feel like this. Come for me. Come on my cock.”

He reached between them to rub her clit, determined to watch her eyes flutter shut and the moans that tumbled from her lips as she came undone around him.

And it was spectacular. She was so precious. To think she had never known pleasure like this before. He was going to be everything for her. Her saviour. Her king.

She clung to him as she came, shuddering and gasping as he forced her through the blinding orgasm. He continued to fuck her, determined to find his own end as well, but he noticed she was barely responsive. Poor thing, probably passed out from the pleasure.

The Lord didn’t let that stop him as he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. He loved watching his cock sink into her, splitting her open and twitching inside of her. He came to the sight of it, filling her as deeply as possible and rocking his hips as she tightened around him once more. Even unconscious, he was able to make her feel good.

Finally satisfied with his claim, he pulled out and arranged the maiden to lay beside him. “You need your rest. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

-

Life with Lord Heisenberg was nothing like serving at Castle Dimitrescu. The Lord was crass and informal, just as quick tempered as his ‘sister’ but never directed at the maiden.

No. The maiden was given special privileges. She was his prized possession, swiped right out from under Alcina’s claws, and he loved to spoil her and dote on her.

He had never had a pet like her before. All of his own creations and gifts from Mother Miranda were mindless and bloodthirsty and horrific. But the maiden, she was beautiful and sweet. She was so devoted to him, her savior. He had freed her, given her everything, and now she lived to serve him.

Her new life was one of endless pleasure and indulgence. The Lord fucked her and filled her and marked her as his own. He loved to ruin her, to claim her. She was so precious, trapped in that castle and hidden away from the world. He wanted to show her every filthy experience she had missed.

She fit so perfectly around his cock, so warm and tight and responsive. He enjoyed her moans and gasps of pleasure just as much as he enjoyed finishing inside her.

He didn’t know he was capable of such softness. He was rough when he fucked her, sure to bite her and mark her. Bruising handprints blooming over her skin after he took her to bed. But he was also gentle with her at times. Praise and thanks and kisses to her hairline. There was a different kind of satisfaction to seeing her smile.

-

The maiden bowed her head as she offered Lord Heisenberg a glass of whiskey late one evening. He had been away at the factory for much of the previous days occupied by his work. The drink was a warm welcome. “Thank you, buttercup,” he pulled her into his lap. “I have something for you.”

He took a gulp from the glass before setting it aside and fishing around in his pockets.

“Aha! Here!” He procured two thick shining bands in his palms. They looked small in his grasp but were still a few inches in diameter.

The Lord grabbed the maiden’s hands. The metal rings levitated before closing around her wrists, fastening as though they were soldered together.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed, twisting her wrists this way and that to admire the jewelry. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“Now everyone will know who you belong to,” he trailed kisses from her temple to her jaw.

The maiden giggled. “I don’t think there was any doubt of that before.” She was constantly covered in his marks, in his come. He loved to claim her as his in every possible way.

He would fill her until his seed was dripping down her thighs, smeared over her chest and her lips. Make her come until the only thing she knew was his name. He had found all her limits and he knew just how to push past them.

And now he had his steel on her.

She nuzzled against his chest, overwhelmed by the gift. No one at that wretched castle had ever shown her such kindness. Her lips peppered the skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, hands wandering over his chest and arms. She was still so uncertain about her desires. Alcina had certainly done a good job of brainwashing her.

But he had his own conditioning to do. So he whispered encouragement as she slipped between his knees and unfastened his belt. She was flushed and uncoordinated as she pulled his cock free from his pants. “Thank you,” she whispered again before wrapping her lips around him.

She was a good cocksucker, an eager learner and quick to respond to him. She had very quickly grown addicted to him, and he lived for it. Every time he would return from the depths of the factory, she was there craving his attention and his touch.

Now she was even more desperate. He had neglected her in favor of his work, and he regretted it when he saw how uncertain she had become. He would have to train her to handle his long absences. He certainly couldn’t trust anyone to watch over her while he was gone. She was too precious, they would corrupt her. Still, he enjoyed how she couldn’t seem to get enough of him, how dependent she was.

Lord Heisenberg relaxed and sipped his whiskey as she stroked and sucked his cock. He felt so powerful with the maiden on her knees before him. It made him crave more.

After several minutes, when his cock was shining from her lips and she was glassy eyed with lust between his knees, he cradled her head in one of his hands and pulled her onto his cock as deep as she could go. She submitted willingly, moaning at the way his fingers dug into her scalp.

He fucked her face, rough and deep, admiring the way tears spilled over her cheeks and spit dripped down her chin. Her obedience only turned him on more, and he came with a groan, pulling out before he could spill everything down her throat.

She was a filthy mess, come and spit smeared over her swollen lips. She cleaned his cock and blinked up at him expectantly.

“That’s a good girl.” He smiled as she melted at his words. One of her own hands had slipped beneath her skirts and she rocked down against it with a breathy moan. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? Can you wait for me? I promise I’ll give you a treat soon.”

The maiden immediately did as she was told, pulling her slick fingertips from beneath her dress.

“What do you say we wash up and call it a night?” He pulled her to her feet, leading her upstairs to the washroom.

The maiden had been delighted to find that the enormous bath upstairs -- though still smaller that Mistress Dimitrescu’s -- had taps that would run the water directly into the tub. A device of the Lord’s own creation heated the water along the way so that it steamed as it splashed into the porcelain basin. The maiden undressed the Lord with enthusiastic reverence, running her hands over his skin as she pulled his shirt from his broad shoulders. He slipped into the steaming water and sighed.

The maiden slipped out of her own clothes and climbed in as well. She lathered soap in her hands and set to work washing them both, massaging the tension from his muscles with her skilled fingers. What more could he possibly ask for?

He could tell how needy she was as she rinsed them clean. Her breaths were quick and short, skin flushed all the way down her chest and up to her ears. If they hadn’t already been in the water he was sure she would be dripping with arousal.

The Lord was tempted to try out his his new trick, but he wanted to wait for the perfect time. So instead he teased the poor girl with his fingers. She slumped against him, begging and pleading as he gave her everything just shy of what she needed.

He pulled her from the tub, drying both of them just enough before dragging her to bed. Laying back and pulling her on top of him, he grabbed her hips and ground her pussy against his length. 

“Please,” she gasped. She looked so cute, begging for his cock. He lined himself up and pulled her all the way down until her hips met his. The shock of being filled so suddenly, stretched around him, made her scream.

He lifted her easily, using her like a doll for his pleasure. She slumped forward over his chest as he moved her hips however he liked. Her broken gasps and moans of pleasure were like music to his ears. He wanted to break her, to see her totally undone by his hand.

She came around his cock twice before he finally pulled her all the way onto him and pumped her full. Even though his body was exhausted from his orgasm, he wasn’t yet sated. Some strange desire still pulled at him. He had already gifted her with the bracelets he had yet to use, but maybe there were other toys to be made in his workshop.

She would be perfect for him.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg/reader #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg #heisenberg x maiden #karl heisenberg x maiden #re8 village #re8 #smut #lemons #a tainted rescue

[whitestaghere]

Not your fault - Levi x reader

Just felt like it had been a while and came up with this. Hope ya'll enjoy reading!❤️

Warnings: none really. Mentions of death. Angst and a dash of fluff at the end.

Saying I was scared was an understatement. No, I was shook to the very brink of my existence. I hadn't expected it to be so nerve wracking as it was, now that I had finally joined the scout regiment.

I had expected this of course.

Who wouldn't? Specially when they were proned to fighting naked humans as tall as trees running at you like they were on their morning caffeine rush.

What was even worse was when the stoic captain of the special operations squad decides to pick you to be part of his squad. "I appreciate your skills," he said.

Well I guess there wasn't really much to fuss about that apart from the new mission we were setting up for and our very special rivalry.

Today, everything had gone smooth until that female titan had decided to come waltzing in.

She had managed to wipe out all of Levi squad and I felt my blood boil. My mind was in a blur, filled with thoughts of nothing but blood lust. Just from her.

Eren's screams played at the back of my mind and even as I caught sight of him shooting towards where I was, I couldn't find it in me to stop him.

As cruel as it sounded- I wanted her to feel the pain as I did.

I glanced down at Petra's body. The eyes that always greeted me with brightness were now looking at me blankly. Tasting the saltiness from the tears that streamed down my face unbeknownst to me- my cool demeanor finally broke. Snapping out of my trance I pushed myself off the branch I stood upon.

Shooting my hooks into the skin of the female titans shoulder, I zipped through the air screaming in anguish. I swung my blades over my head, aiming for the hand that covered her nape. If I could just cut through her wrist-

Just as planned, my blades sunk into the flesh of her wrist. Deep, but not deep enough.

If only I hadn't been distracted and just pushed away right then..

Her large hand came in contact with my body, swatting me off like as if I were some insect. Which in her case, I probably looked it. With a pained yelp, I was being thrown through the air.

"Y/N!" Eren.

My eyes shot open just when a bolt of lightning struck through the air. Ah.

I realised what was happening.

I tried to aim my grappling hooks at one of the trees before I probably fell to my death or by the slightest chances, fell straight into a titans mouth. But everything was in a blur and with the way the titan hit me, I couldn't quite direct my focus onto one thing. And before you know it, I had already inched closer to the ground, crashing straight into a tree. I doubled forward and my body slid down against the rough surface.

Cursing inwardly, I glanced down at my body; my lower half, sprawled out on the ground as I slumped against the tree.

I wanted to move, to assist Eren - but my body refused to respond. I couldn't budge and for a moment, I hoped I had died through impact because the thoughts that ran through my head were killing me.

My body felt limp almost like as if I was paralysed. I fought to keep my eyes open. The ground beneath me shook and my ears were filled with the sound of Eren's titan screaming. And with that, black filled my vision.

>>present<<

My body shot up at once and I winced at the sudden pain that shot through my body.

"You're awake."

That voice.

I snapped my head to my right and I was greeted by those steel eyes that belonged to none other than the captain. I had this urge to shrink and disappear out of existence under his icy gaze and-

Wait.

I was alive? Or no wait. Good Gods, please don't tell me he died too!

Without thinking, my hand shot out to grab his arm that was crossed over his chest. This took him by surprise and his eyes shifted between me and my hand with a hint of annoyance laced in his features. His body had tensed under my hold and I immediately pulled away with a gasp.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I just-"

"I found you not too far from the rest of the squad," he cut me off. My head lowered at the mention of the others. "I didn't think you were alive considering the amount of blood you lost. But that's when you coughed, splattering all your substances at me and well- you know the rest."

I didn't know what to say. Even if I did, I didn't have it in me to speak or make a snarky remark like I usually did. The thought of my fallen comrades made me sick to the stomach. But I couldn't cry either.

No. Just not with him here.

You remember how I said we had a special rivalry going on between us? Yeah.

Ever since Levi had asked me to join his squad- we'd always been at eachother's throats. Which I didn't quite expect considering how he picked me.

He'd say something sarcastic, I'd snap back at him and vice versa. It eventually came to the point that commander Erwin had to walk in one time, suggesting Levi that it would be best if I were switched to Mike's squad. But Levi had simply walked out of the room.

Just like that, Erwin asked me to make the choice and I said no. Why you ask?

I wanted Levi to accept me.

I couldn't even remember what started this rivalry to begin with and it was eating at me constantly. I had never seen him snap at people as easily as he did with me. Well he did occasionally, but this was on a daily basis and it made no sense at all.

Hanji said it was just his nature and that I'd understand him later. I realised that was she said was just ridiculous because this man, he didn't even dare to show me a little bit of respect. So I decided I'd leave him be and put up a mask whenever he'd target me but that's when things got worse. He always found reasons to argue with me and I caught up with it too.

Breaking down in front of him wasn't an option now.

Levi's chair scraped against the floor signalling that he was probably leaving.

"Thank you," I said quickly, making him stop in his tracks. I'd never said that to him before. But since he saved me, it was only right that I did.

His head turned around halfway and he eyed me narrowly. "For saving me," I finished. He clicked his tongue in response and left the room, shutting the door a little louder than I expected.

Cue the breakdown.

I flopped myself back on the bed. Grabbing the pillow that supported my head, I hugged it tightly as I screamed into it.

The tears didn't stop.

I couldn't save my comrades. Why did the captain even decide to pick me in the first place if I couldn't save my own comrades?

It was getting harder to breathe with my face stuffed in the pillow and the choked up tears didn't make it any easier. I felt so pathetic. But no matter how much I tried, it wouldn't stop. The guilt and hatred just kept coming back to me.

It felt like I had been crying for hours already as my body spasmed, signalling the next fresh batch of tears approaching.

The sound of the door opening and closing again made my body freeze.

I peeped up from my pillow and regretted it instantly seeing the captain standing at the foot of my bed, holding two cups in his hands. His eyes locked with mine again.

Maybe it was me just seeing things but his eyes widened and very slowly, he made his way upto the side of my bed.

"I brought you some tea," he said stoically. "Drink it before it gets cold."

I subtly wiped my eyes against the pillow and sat myself up on the bed like as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out just a few moments ago.

Avoiding eye contact, I thanked him silently and took the cup from his hand. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his gaze lingering on my face. Feeling too self conscious, I brought the cup up to my mouth only to wince as I burned my tongue. A weird sound came from me and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

"Tch. Be careful idiot. I didn't ask you to drink it that fast," Levi scolded. I face palmed inwardly, brushing it off with a sheepish grin. He cocked a brow and shifted his gaze outside the window.

Silence.

I didn't mind the silence, but with him sitting right there, it felt like my nerves were dancing. If that was even possible.

Eyeing him subtly, I noticed how his gaze seemed distant, longing. And that's when I realised. I was being selfish.

I wasn't the only one who had lost my comrades.

"C-captain-"

"Levi."

I tilted my head in confusion and nodded right after catching what he had meant. "Levi. I-I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For everything."

"Be specific." I gulped. So he wanted a full on confession. Here it goes.

"Well for being.. for being a brat." He raised his brows and turned to look at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor at once, finding it easier to speak calmly that way.

"That wasn't a joke, I promise. I was being selfish. I didn't know how much pressure I might have been putting on you by always being snarky and uncooperative. And now too.. I was considering my own feelings without thinking about how you felt. I just- didn't understand why you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you," he said abruptly. I looked at him slowly but reluctantly.

"I-" he ran a hand through his hair, releasing a frustrated sigh. "I don't hate you. I was just worried."

"Worried?" I asked.

"Worried you'd end up like this. Or by the least, end up dead."

Ouch.

"You doubted my skills.. yet you picked me to be a part of your squad. I don't get it," I mumbled.

"Idiot. It's not like that," he barked. "I recall saying I respected your skills. I really do. It's just that you can be reckless at times."

I gasped in disbelief.

"Reckless?"

"Yes. Reckless."

"How could you-" he raised a brow and eyed my position on the bed. I followed his gaze and it dawned on me. Half of my body was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a cast.

Yeah. Reckless.

"I had no doubt in your skills, keep that in mind brat. I picked you for my squad because I knew you'd be a good addition to it and-" He paused, looking like as if he were in thought before continuing.

"It was easier to keep an eye on you this way."

I shut my eyes tightly, guilt flooding through my veins little by little.

"But I failed." My eyes shot open hearing this.

"I failed you and I failed my squad."

"Levi-"

"No y/n. There's no denying it," he said. I noticed how his voice was beginning to shake and that just made my heart ache. I had never seen him this way. "I told you that I added you to keep an eye on you and look at you now. Even worse, I failed to protect the rest of my squad."

"Levi," I said softly. "You know, if I ever end up dying out there- I'd never blame you. I'd never say you failed to protect me. But what I would want you to do, is to give our sacrifices meaning. We devoted our lives. We chose to go down this path knowing the circumstances. Knowing that someday there could be a chance we wouldn't come back home. So just know, this is not your fault and they don't blame you either. Even if it is, we must make their sacrifices worth something."

Levi stared intently at me but this time, I didn't feel like shrinking away. I wanted the man in front of me to have reason to fight, to know he wasn't to blame. And that all of this- we were facing all of this together.

He didn't say a word. I didn't expect him to either and I didn't mind it.

His gaze was everywhere and for a second when his eyes met mine, I couldn't help my urge and slowly yet hesitantly- reached out for him.

"May I?" I asked.

He tilted his head, confused by what I was asking permission for. I opened my arms slightly for him and after a short while, he shockingly leaned in slowly (not before shifting awkwardly in his seat though). Wrapping one arm around his shoulders and one hand on his nape, I pulled him into my embrace gently.

I felt his fingers trace over my clothes slightly like as if he were contemplating what to do. After a few seconds, his body completely relaxed in my arms and I felt his hands slowly snake around my waist.

"It's okay Levi," I whispered and rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck. That made a soft smile crawl up my face.

This man was a fighter but he was also human. A human with feelings no matter how stoic he could be. Hanji was right.

>>Third person's pov<<

It was at that moment, that a new friendship began to blossom between the two. A spark of hope and a reason to fight in their dark world.

Okay phew.

That came out a lot more angsty than I thought it would be haha. But I hope you all enjoyed reading it and have a wonderful day/night!❤️

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hanji zoe #eren jaeger #petra ral #aot imagines #levi x reader imagine #levi x reader fluff #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x y/n #levi x male reader #levi needs a hug #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x you