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#reel her back in like it's nothing. he essentially wraps a rope around her neck like a noose and gives it One Firm yank the moment he thinks
quirofiliac · 3 years
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multiadored said: ✔
@multiadored​: chiko/ quick & easy plotting guide / accepting.
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#multiadored#me leaning on u from behind: hello again.#so we already have a thing of kira and chiko doing this sort of thing where it's like... he leads her on. fully aware of how this is bad but#still does it because he can get things (nothing in... particular? just general things.) out of her because of it. does chiko realize this?#who knows! probably as it gets further and further down the line. (: but that's why kira always figures out some way or another to#reel her back in like it's nothing. he essentially wraps a rope around her neck like a noose and gives it One Firm yank the moment he thinks#she's acting out of line. and it can be something completely made up-- be it from his paranoia his idealized version of her crumbling or...#just? something that /he/ doesn't like. he's always there to pull her back when he sees that she's getting A Little Too adventurous.#and i can see this eventually panning towards him ''involving'' her in his kills but more-so on the level that he uses her.#to lure in potential targets. and even just as a general ''basis'' of a networking system.#someone is bothering her that ALSO happened to bother him? they're the next target; they were just there at the wrong place - wrong time.#i think he'd use chiko as a way to help control his urges-- she provides him with a long list of potentials. he doesn't say anything tho.#just kind of... does it. if she figures it out she figures it out. what's she gonna do? kira's too confident (arrogant even.) that#he has her wrapped around his finger.#because he's just So Damn Good at acting normal around her. it takes time for him to reveal his true self to her. and even when he does?#that's only a fraction.#he's still incredibly secretive. reclusive. withdrawn. only lets certain details show.#details that he thinks chiko wants to see and - thus - tricks her into feeling like she's even closer to him than before.#i also wanna say that in tandem to this-- he definitely would be more than willing to go on ''dates'' with chiko in diu!verse#to pacify her mom. he'd introduce himself as this perfect gentleman and lull her into this Amazing but false sense of security.#then come post!diu and he just fucking slaughters her.#bc he politely (in a casual tone. like he's talking about the weather.) recalls to chiko all the times she's bemoaned her mother#and how kira need pry only A Little and he's figuring out their relationship.#learns that he could probably get away with it. so she's one of his first kills when he's come ''back to life''.#easy target. an even easier kill.#he does up the house. gets rid of the body. /considers/ taking her hand but then gets rid of that too. because it's a little too old.#kira's a man with standards after all. and fast forward past the funeral. chiko spies him after what feels like months of nothing.#and then chiko tries to ''reconnect'' with him. something he doesn't know if he wants. but he does it anyway. because he's a good friend. (:#* 💥 摘発:out of character.
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queerebrum · 4 years
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how lucky you are || Lysterek (Lydia x Stiles x Derek) || Explicit Multiamory May Day 10 Some backstory: This is a deleted scene from my long!fic The Distress Call where Derek reclaims alpha status, Stiles is his mate and an incredibly powerful mage. Lydia is a banshee and is in Derek’s pack. It can be read as a standalone. Derek and Stiles, being the alpha pair, are allowed to have anyone else in the pack in their bed as long as its all consensual. 
They dance for another hour, drawing quite a crowd. Human alpha-mates are rare as it is, let alone one that’s completed the ritual far enough to have the eye. Once they’re able to leave, Derek calls for a taxi, the most sober of the three of them despite the wolfsbane-laced alcohol. They’re not discrete when they get back to the house, and Cora pops out of her bedroom to see Stiles pressing Lydia up against the wall of the hallway, hand up the tight dress she’d worn out.  She just smiles, rolls her eyes and mutters something about inevitability and slips back into her room. Her heartbeat disappears after that, so Stiles assumes she activated her own privacy runes.
Derek comes upstairs with three glasses of water and points towards his bedroom with an expectant look. He gently separates them and hands each a glass of water, “Water and consent first, sex second.”
Stiles honest to god whined, “Derek, Lydia gave her consent.”
Derek took a drink from his water and stared at his mate expectantly. “Lydia gave you her consent. I haven’t asked yet. And she hasn’t asked me.” He shrugged one shoulder, “My pack, my rules. I’m not blind or gay, Stiles, I understand your desire to get Lydia into bed, but I will not do so when both of you aren’t more sober than this.”
Stiles glared at Derek, pointedly, single red eye flashing, and downed the rest of his water and stepped towards the bathroom. Derek finished his own glass and took Stiles seat on the bed next to Lydia, “Reservations?” He asked softly.
She let out a warm laugh and turned her face up to his, “About having sex with my alpha, the hottest alpha on the east coast, mind you, AND Stiles? None.” Lydia finished her water and set it on the floor, straddling the Alpha’s lap, “Do you have any reservations?”
Lydia was sure that the list of people that got to see that particular shade of lusty green eyes from Derek Hale was short, “About bringing the hottest Banshee I’ve ever met into our bed? No.” Their lips met, and they pointedly ignored Stiles’ sarcastic clapping.
“Now that we’ve gotten that over with, I’ll point out that Lydia is essentially the only Banshee you’ve ever met, Derek.” Stiles crawled onto the bed regardless, stripped down to just the skin tight jeans he’d worn to the club, and pressed his chest against Derek’s back, nimble fingers quickly opening the buttons of Derek’s shirt while he and Lydia kissed. Derek’s hands fumbled for the zipper of Lydia’s dress and tugged it down. Once it had fallen off mostly off of her body, she stepped off of Derek’s lap to let it fall to the floor, and her eyes zeroed in on Stiles. “You undress, Alpha. I’ll get him started.” She looked at Stiles with a steel in her eyes and his spine melted. He let her push him further up the bed, let her peel him out of the jeans, hardly speaking or making noise at all. His pupils had blown wide, and he stared at Lydia in awe. Derek was transfixed at the control Lydia had over Stiles, but finally understood what Lydia had meant when she said that she could give Stiles something he needed.
“He subs for you.” Derek said softly, crawling up onto the bed to watch as Lydia’s hand, nails blood red, wrapped around Stiles cock and stroked it to hardness. She was on her knees, ass in the air, breasts hanging low, occasionally brushing against Stiles’ thighs. He reached to run a hand over the smooth, creamy skin of Lydia’s body, watching a line of goosebumps flare onto her skin after his touch disappeared.
Lydia turned to Derek, “He likes to. I’ll help you learn to do it too. It should be easy, you’re the alpha.” She pressed kisses to Stiles’ stomach and hips, the man on the bed moaning and squirming under Lydia’s soft hands. “Can I fuck him, Alpha?” She asked softly, reaching up to unclip her hair and Derek reached out to touch it as it cascaded down her shoulders.
Derek considered for a moment, “Blow him first.” He said softly, moving so he was behind Lydia, kneeling as he carefully slid the skimpy underwear down and pressed a knuckle between the folds of skin at her opening. Lydia let out a moan as she dropped onto Stiles’ cock, and Derek unfolded the finger and pressed it inside of her, adding a second one, stretching her gently, even if her pussy was more amenable to penetration than Stiles’ ass was. He brought his mouth down to press his tongue where his fingers were pressing into Lydia, opening her. She groaned against Stiles’ cock, which caused Stiles to cry out a curse. Derek pulled away, “Now you can fuck him.” Derek hesitated only for a moment, “Condom or?”
Lydia pulled off of Stiles dick with a wet pop and momentarily, Derek forgot the question he had even asked, it was obscene how red Lydia’s lips were, slick with her own spit. She crawled up Stiles’ body and took his hand, “Do the thing, Stiles.” She said, pressing his hand against her pubic bone. Stiles seemed to snap out of whatever spell Lydia had put him under, and his eyes met Derek’s as he muttered the contraceptive charm that he’d used last time.
Derek couldn’t resist the sight of his mate’s whiskey eyes and he surged forward to kiss him, and Stiles delighted in how odd the taste of Lydia on Derek’s lips and tongue was. “Fuck her, Stiles. But roll over so I can prep you.”
Stiles nodded, looked up at Lydia with a wry smile and then, faster than Derek had expected him to, he’d rolled so that both of them were on their sides, and he could press kisses into the side of Lydia’s neck as he pressed his cock inside of her. She cried out his name as he did, and let her head fall back onto Stiles’ shoulder. Derek took her mouth from there, somewhat awkwardly, but neither of them seemed to mind.
Derek couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his mate and his banshee, how beautiful their bodies looked together, and he was momentarily struck with the realization that they both were his, if he wanted them. But, the mate bond, that braided rope of love, sex, and blood, centered him as he reached to slide a hand between Stiles cheeks, throwing off a thrust as he let out a groan against Lydia’s neck. Derek reached for the lube, slicked a finger, and pressed it into Stiles as he fucked Lydia, not missing the tempo change as Stiles brought his own hand down to Lydia’s clit, helping her towards her first orgasm.
Derek pressed a second finger into Stiles’ hole and paused briefly for a moment before he had figured out which direction to crook his fingers to brush against Stiles’ prostate. The mage cried out his name as he pulled away from Lydia, coming between his own chest and her back. Derek momentarily regretted his choice not to pull down the comforter, but as Stiles moved onto his knees to fuck back onto Derek’s fingers, he suddenly didn’t care.
Derek was surprised when Lydia moved closer, taking his lips before prodding him to shift his hips. Stiles was on his knees, parallel to the pillows, coming down from his orgasm and fucking himself on Derek’s fingers. Lydia tugged Derek to sit so that fingering Stiles caused a bit of stretch in his shoulder, but then that obscene red mouth sank down over his cock and he realized that he didn’t mind the stretch. Derek’s other hand came to run through Lydia’s hair, and he groaned, trying to resist his hips thrusting up into her hot mouth.
Stiles was hard again, and Lydia was clearly a fair bit more accomplished at blow jobs than Stiles was, because Derek had to pull her head off of him and hold up a finger to collect himself before he moved to his own knees and tugged Stiles back, pressing into him quickly, probably too quickly, but giving Stiles a minute to adjust to the stretch. Stiles looked back over his shoulder with eyes that were more pupil than iris and smiled widely at Derek, “Thank you for this.” He said, “I love you so much.”
Derek poured himself over Stiles’ back and kissed his shoulder, “I love you too.”
“And you’re both wonderful.” Lydia rolled her eyes and settled back against two pillows, her legs spread in front of Stiles. The mage turned his head to her, and as soon as his head dropped between Lydia’s legs, Derek chose to pull out and thrust back in, causing both of them to curse as Stiles tongue was pressed harder against Lydia.
Derek didn’t last long, and neither did Lydia from the sounds she was making under Stiles’ mouth and hands, and as he watched Lydia throw her head back against the pillows and clench around Stiles’ fingers, he buried himself inside his mate and came, nearly collapsing onto him. Stiles pulled away from Lydia to reach down, tugging at his own cock a few times before he came a second time and collapsed onto Lydia’s stomach, spent.
Lydia recovered first, pulling herself out from under Stiles and kissing the top of his head and then Derek’s lips before she helped herself to their bathroom. Derek pulled out of Stiles and flopped back onto the bed. Stiles reeled from the emptiness and his ass clenched around nothing a few times before he relaxed, almost asleep there.
Derek decided not to bother with the sheets, it was July anyway, and he had plenty of body heat to keep both of them warm.  He laid back against the pillows and tucked Stiles against his side. When Lydia was done, she threw on Stiles’ T-shirt and crawled into bed, tucking herself under Derek’s other arm, one of her hands trailing down Stiles’ arm. “You know how lucky you are, don’t you?” She asked softly. The alpha gave a nod. “We’ll find you your person, Lydia.” He murmured against her hair. “Someone worthy of the great Lydia Martin.” “I had someone once.” She closed her eyes, sadness coloring her scent. “I loved him.” 
Derek kissed the top of her head, “Jackson.” He murmured. She nodded. “I turned him, Lydia. He has a place here, in this pack, if he wants it.”  “Thank you, Derek.” She whispered.
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ruffsficstuffplace · 7 years
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The Keeper of the Grove (Part 33)
At Weiss' insistence, Ruby carried her all the way back to her hammock for a nap.
“But you're still all muddy and sweaty!” Ruby said.
“Don't care, too tired,” Weiss muttered back.
She slept till the middle of the afternoon, woke up famished and sore. Thankfully, Penny was already back by that time, and her “Mender Protocols” included physical therapy.
“How long is this going to take?” Weiss asked as Penny helped turn her over face down in her hammock.
“No more than a few seconds at the worst!” Penny chirped.
Weiss frowned. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Almost exactly like you humans do in your hospitals: irradiate you with specially charged magic, in this case for stimulating your sore muscle groups,” Penny explained as she held up her hands, already glowing with a lighter shade of the green energy that held them together.
“This isn't going to hurt, is it...?” Weiss asked.
“Possibly, but nothing worse than a tingle!” Penny said, said as she placed her hands on Weiss' back.
Weiss closed her eyes and preemptively cringed.
The energy in Penny's hands discharged, traveling up and down Weiss body like ripples on a pond. Her muscles did tingle, but not any different than what a vibrating massage module would do, and leaving a pleasant warmth afterward, too.
Weiss opened her eyes, blinking in surprise.
“On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your pain?” Penny asked as she took her hands back.
“Zero!” Weiss asked as she climbed out of her hammock, completely free of soreness. “I feel completely fine!” she said as she stretched and moved about. “Better than fine, even!”
Penny smiled. “Response logged.”
Weiss stomach growled—loudly and angrily, from having missed both breakfast and lunch—and the two of them left for the kitchen. To Weiss' dismay, it'd have to be cookies and milk yet again as all the boar meat was reserved as a buffer for all the predators in the house.
“Where is everyone, anyway?” Weiss asked as they walked in the quiet halls.
“Busy with their duties, or otherwise enjoying themselves at the Bastion,” Penny replied as they entered the kitchen. “Fae generally prefer to spend their free time outside of their own homes and interacting with the community at large; even the most sedentary folks who prefer to spend their time indoors come out at least once a week, and attend most if not all major celebrations and events.
“It's just one of the many aspects of Fae culture you'll be learning about during your education!” she continued as she fetched a plate and went off to the cookie jar.
“My education?” Weiss asked as she headed to the fridge.
“Elder Goodwitch has recently authorized myself to be your tutor in all twelve years of basic education, and my protocols have been updated accordingly,” Penny said as she climbed the ladder. “I will be administering a test later, to properly design a curriculum for you.”
“Got it,” Weiss said as she opened the fridge to fetch the milk.
She noticed that Blake's tuna sashimi was right beside the jug, carefully encased in cling wrap, with a little sticky note on it. It had a crudely drawn picture of Weiss' face on it with a giant X over it. She scowled, and reached for it.
Her grandfather's voice echoed in her head, a line from one of his many video interviews: “Pissing someone off out of spite is about the worst investment you can make; very short-term gain for long-term pain.”
Her hand strayed back to the jug, Weiss pulled it out and shut the door. “She caught it, she can decide who gets it,” she thought to herself as she sat down at the table.
Weiss' life quickly settled into a routine:
Mornings, she'd do farm work, tending to her crops, hacking back a little bit more of the overgrowth to clear space for more plants in the future. She was careful not to exert herself too much as there would be more exercise in the afternoon—weight lifting, running, and even weapons training with all the many varieties of armaments the Fae produced.
Weiss dubiously held up a blade whose hilt could shoot out, connected by a razor wire and an automatic reel system. “How does someone even use this?” she asked, touching the wire and flinching as she cut herself almost immediately afterward.
“Very carefully!” Ruby replied. “If you're fast, have great reflexes, and get up high places easy like Blake, a Breakneck's a great weapon to use!”
“I'm going to regret this, but why's it called a Breakneck?”
“Because we use it a lot for catching fast prey like chickens,” Ruby replied. “You just piss them off with a repeater or a crossbow, run through some trees, tie the wire taught between them, and make them run straight into the wire. Run around so the weighted end loops around their neck, and pull the switch.”
She mimed tugging an invisible rope, and violently jerked her head to the side. “Violin! Roast chicken for everyone. Sometimes you can cut the head clean off and save a whole lot of prep-time!”
Weiss turned green and slowly put the Breakneck down. “I think I'll just leave this to Blake...”
After cooling down with the Fae's version of yoga and meditation, she'd spent the rest of the day studying with Penny. It was mostly focused on learning Actaeon and how Fae society worked, as math, economics, science, and so on were essentially the same as humans.
About the only thing she had a problem with was her learning materials:
“Are these children's books?” Weiss asked as she held up worn, much-loved physical copies of simple, colourful books—some of them with Ruby's name scrawled inside, most of them with her many ancestors'.
“They are,” Penny replied. “The Chroniclers recommended that we use these, as they are both designed to help total beginners learn the language, and contain simplified versions of a lot of the cultural concepts and history that you will be learning later.”
Weiss sighed. “Can't argue with that… what do we start with?”
“This one!” Penny said, holding up a book with the cartoon of a generic-looking Fae on it. “The title translates to 'I Am Fae,' though I recommend you read it all out loud in Actaeon to help you with you with your pronunciation.”
She opened it and laid it down before Weiss. “Now, repeat after me...”
<I am Fae.
<I am of Havalon, our Home.
<I am formed from Her Earth.
<I take breath from Her Air.
<I draw life from Her Water.
<I gain strength from Her Fire.
<I care for myself as Havalon cares for me.
<I care for the Other as I care for myself, for they are also of Havalon.
<I care for Havalon, for She is our Home.
<As Her Bounties feed us, so we feed Her.
<As Her Forests, Her Mountains, Her Seas become our cities, so our cities become Her Forests, Her Mountains, Her Seas.
<As we rise, so She rises with us.
<For I am Fae, of Havalon, our Home.>
They repeated it several times; Weiss struggled to speak it properly, as Actaeon sounded like animal growls and noises, not sounds that humans made normally, to say the least.
“So this is basically Fae religion?” Weiss asked as they took a break.
“It's actually much closer to a constitution or a guiding philosophy,” Penny replied. “Religion is a belief in a higher power or powers, and the effects of Avalon are very real and easily proven, no faith necessary.”
“How so?” Weiss asked.
Penny smiled. “That'd be for a much later lesson. For now, let's start with the basics...”
The days in-between training were followed by even more education, though this time in practical skills.
“Though most Fae tend to have one specialized role as their main career, it's not unusual for them to have a second job to complement the first or serve as a back-up, such as Watchers also working as Makers to maintain their own equipment and serve as insurance should they be crippled or otherwise rendered unfit for duty,” Penny explained. “Some even switch careers several times over the course of their lives, following personal interest or necessity.”
Ruby helped teach her how to maintain her tools, and construct a fence for her garden, using the wood and materials from the overgrowth she'd already cleared. With the help of the Codex and supplies permitting, Penny guided her in making common home remedies and useful products, like “multi-paste,” an incredibly powerful and sticky adhesive that had a nearly limitless amount of uses, from patching up walls, repairing clothes, and even serving as a durable temporary fix to a broken weapon until you could find a more permanent solution. And though Blake was unwilling to teach her how to sew and work leather, Qrow was teaching her how to cook and butcher meat, though Weiss had her reservations as he insisted on doing both only while he was sufficiently drunk.
“I'll have you know I do my best cooking while I'm wasted!” Qrow said as he reheated some stew over the stove, one hand on a wooden spoon, the other holding his flask of “jungle juice.” “Granted, I've also done my worst while I was wasted, but I hit more than I miss!”
Weiss groaned as she cut some carrots to throw in. “Qrow, we're both going to be handling sharp objects, fire, and things that might be both sharp and flammable, I'll learn a LOT better and faster if I know you'll be completely sober if something goes wrong! Or at least MOSTLY sober...”
Qrow groaned as he lifted the spoon out. “Princess, I have done way harder things in much more dangerous conditions while I was even more drunk than I usually am—I've got the footage from my Chronicle to prove it, too!”
“Good for you, but my point still stands!” Weiss said as she slid the carrots into the pot.
Qrow sighed. “Fine. But I decide what we cook, alright?”
“Deal.”
As it turned out, it would be sweet potato fries, as “Nothing tastes better when you're completely fucked up at 3 AM than some nice, greasy sweet potato fries!”
Weiss couldn't match Qrow in precision or knife work, but frying them was easy, and only some of them got burnt. No one really minded the extra crunch, though, especially Zwei who had been kept on hand in case everything went horribly, horribly wrong.
“Man, I really should have fried up some fish or grilled hamburgers for this, these are pretty good!” Qrow said as he ate them. “A lot cheaper than what the fast food joints around here charge, too.”
“Yeah, Weiss, looks like the farming life might really be for you after all!” Ruby said through the fistful of fries she had shoved into her mouth.
Weiss smiled. “Thanks,” she said as she picked up the last plate of fries.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blake looking in from the doorway, her nose twitching, her expression conflicted.
Weiss frowned, a memory of the now long-gone sashimi and the sticky note flashing through her mind.
Then, her grandfather's voice echoed through her head again, the second part of that quote: “Extending the olive branch to someone you hate, though? Much better choice.”
She walked up to her. Blake looked ready to bolt, before Weiss held up her plate and smiled
Blake looked worriedly at her, caught between the delicious aroma of the sweet potato fries, and who was offering them. In the end, the allure of greasy, hot snacks won out and she carefully picked up one of the smaller wedges.
Blake nibbled on it daintily, her expression brightened. “Is good!” she said in Nivian, struggling with the words.
“Get 'em while they last!” Weiss said, inviting her in.
<Thanks,> Blake replied as she did, a smile on her face now too.
A week later, and thanks to Elder Goodwitch's surprisingly enthusiastic support for Weiss' gardening, she'd expanded her crops to include more vegetables like tomatoes, green peas, and even some herbs for medical and cooking purposes.
Unfortunately, the local wildlife had taken notice, and though insects were foiled easily enough by planting a protective row of pest control plants, the birds were still a problem. Ruby had built a very basic scarecrow out of wood and weeds, even drew an angry face on it, but the animals weren't the least bit fooled or intimidated.
“We need to make him look scarier!” Weiss said. “Do you have any clothes we could use?”
Ruby shook her head. “Sorry, Weiss, clothes are expensive here because we make them to last; we don't throw them away soon as they stop being fashionable, we just take them to a maker and have them changed up.”
Weiss sighed. “Do you have anything we can use, then?”
“I think we can use some of Zwei's old blankets, but I don't think the birds will be scared by this guy wearing a sheet,” Ruby said, gesturing at her skeletal creation.
“We're going to need to hire a maker for this, then...” Weiss said as she headed back inside, shooting a glare at the birds eying her crops from the trees.
Penny was sent to stand out and shoo the birds while Weiss and Ruby scavenged some materials, and began to search for a tailor they could hire on their limited budget.
As she headed back from the bathroom, Blake noticed the naked scarecrow outside, the pile of old blankets and popped buttons on the living room floor, and Ruby and Weiss busy with a comm-crystal, clearly looking through the magical version of the Job Board.
She quietly stole some of the them, and took them back to her room.
Later, Weiss closed her comm-crystal in frustration. “Ugh! This is impossible! Isn't there ANY maker willing to do a job on the cheap?”
“It's highly doubtful,” Penny said as she walked up. “A Makers' products are their living, their pride, and their reputation; if word gets around they did a lackluster job just to make a handful of easy Shinies, there will be serious monetary, societal, and personal costs.”
Weiss sighed. “Never have I thought I would ever regret someone putting quality over profit...” she stopped. “Wait, Penny, what are you doing here? Weren't you watching my crops?!” she asked as she scrambled up.
“I was, but Blake took care of that problem!” Penny smiled. “Look out the window.”
Weiss and Ruby did.
Standing guard over her crops was a scarecrow styled after Jacques Schnee, wearing a white jacket complete with buttons and a red handkerchief in the breast pocket, his arms stiffly held by his sides, his bushy eyebrows and mustache making him look very, very angry indeed.
It wasn't the finest craftsmanship, but it scared the birds, which was what mattered.
Weiss and Ruby turned away from the window as they heard the elevator coming back up.
Blake waved and smiled as she walked on past, her pouch full of sewing tools under her arm.
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