#;; v: origins | the circle remains

[usomads]

Never Have I Ever // Jey Uso x Reader

Author's Note -> So I had this interesting little idea and figured I'd write it out for y'all... not sure how I feel about it yet but lmk if you like it 🤭 Oh! I have a masterlist now too, so you can check out some other stories I did recently :) happy reading!

Plot -> An innocent game leads to a new first, and new love.

Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Drinking, Cursing, Hickies, Oral (Fem!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.3k

Game Night. The one night a month where you, Josh, Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina could have a night to yourselves. No kids, no wrestling events to stress over, just drinks and quality time with your people. You met them through work, and although you were part of the production crew you ended up clicking with them right away. Whenever you all were inevitably on the road for shows, you traveled together, stayed at the same hotel, ventured the cities together, you had basically become part of the family.

Game Night originally started as a couples get-together for Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina but seeing as you and Josh were always around they happily extended the invitation to you two, despite both of you being single.

You were close with everybody in the group, but yours and Josh’s relationship was by far closer than the relationships you had with the others. Josh was the first WWE superstar to greet you on your first day on the job, showing you around and helping you get acclimated to your new work environment. Within the span of a couple weeks he was inviting you to family events, and the rest is history.

After helping yourself to a mixed drink in Joe and Galina's kitchen, you made your way back to the living room where everyone was congregated as they were trying to figure out the next game to play. “Why don’t we spice it up?” Trin suggested, “how about a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

“Jesus, Trin. What are we, high schoolers?” You chimed in, “Might as well get a bottle out and start spinning it too.”

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, live a little,” she teased, “Sounds to me like you’ve got some secretssss!”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Start already, before you kill my buzz.” 

One by one everyone started taking turns going in a circle stating things they hadn’t done before; some sexual, some embarrassing, and some targeted to get certain players to put their fingers down. After a few rounds everyone in the group only had one finger remaining, and it was your turn. All you had to do was give one confession and everybody would be out of the game, making you the winner. You being as competitive as you were, you saved the best one for last. And you knew it would get everyone out. “Okay umm,” you paused dramatically even though you knew what you were going to say, “Never have I ever… received head.”

You smiled triumphantly as one by one, the group started putting down their fingers. Choruses of “Wowww, you had to go there,” “That’s so unfair,” and strings of curses came from everybody. Everybody except Josh.

“Nah, uce. That means nobody wins. Ma, the whole point of the game is to say somethin’ you haven’t done. You gotta put a finger down.”

“I know the rules, Josh,” you retorted, “I did say something I haven’t done. Which means I win.” “Wait, wait, wait. Girl, you’ve never had a man eat you out?” Trin asked shocked, her question making everyone realize what you had just said.

Josh interjects before you can respond, seemingly annoyed, “She has, Trin, she’s bullshittin’ rn. Because there ain’t no way-”

“There is a way, Josh, because it hasn’t happened. I’ve never had a man go down on me.”

Waves of shock cascaded across the room at your response. How could you go your entire adult life without getting your pussy eaten? It’s actually fairly easy,  just sleep with shitty dudes that don’t wanna reciprocate and there you have it. You’ve experimented a little bit within your sex life, but something as elementary as getting head was something you had yet to check off your bucket list? You can’t really blame everyone for being so surprised about it, shit you probably would be too if you were in their shoes. It seemed like with every second the group sat with this new revelation more and more questions were getting asked, almost an overwhelming amount.

“Okay okay chill, damn. Didn’t realize I was playing ‘truth or dare’ all of a sudden,” you joked before shifting to a more serious tone, “But yes, I’ve sucked dick before. Yes, I’ve been fingered. No, I’m not bullshitting. And yes, my taste in men is ass. Haven’t found a single one that wants to go down on me, yet they expect me to go down on them. Crazy I know, but it is what it is. Men ain’t shit apparently. Now there, did I cover everything?”

“So…,” Jon piped up, “What the fuck y’all be doin’ then? Just straight to pound town and that’s it? No warm up?”

“Pound town is crazyyyy,” you laughed, “But not exactly. Actually, I can break down every time I’ve ever had sex with somebody. It all follows the same steps: kiss on each other for a bit, take all our clothes off, I’ll suck his dick, we fuck, he cums, and then it’s over with.”

“Wait, girl, are you saying you’ve never cum during sex? If that’s what you’re saying honey, I’m sorry, but we gotta find you a fuckin’ man. No more of these boys that you’re messin’ with.” Galina asked.

“Oh, no, I have before. Just a handful of times though, most of the time I’ve gotta finish myself off after. Can’t really expect me to finish if you don’t warm me up a bit, you know?” You responded.

“Man, what the fuck is wrong with this generation? Giving your girl head should be a requirement, these boys you’re fuckin’ with are weird as fuck, Y/N, my girl’s right. We gotta find you a real man,” Joe stated.

“Oh, trust me, I agree with y’all. It’s why I just stopped having sex altogether; Imma have to finish myself off anyways, might as well not waste my time.”

“Y/N, babes, how fuckin’ long has it been since you’ve gotten dick?” Trin asked, anxiously waiting for your answer.

“Um…” Wow, you really had to think about it. “If I remember right, then around Christmas time…” “Oh, so less than a year then. For a second there I thought-”

“Of 2022,” you interrupted. Man, if earlier was chaotic, this new confession was fucking bedlam. Everyone seemed to be losing their minds, except Josh, who had stayed silent and kept his eyes locked on you throughout this entire exchange. 

“Alright, alright, yes I get it. It’s insane, I know. It is what it is, I guess. But as much as I’d love to continue sharing about my travesty of a sex life, I desperately need another drink. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?” Everyone started listing their drink of choice, and you were having a hard time keeping up with it all, until Josh spoke for the first time since your revelation.

“I’ll just come with you, seems like everybody needs something right now. You’re gonna need help carrying everyone’s shit.” You smiled at him, silently thanking him, but he didn’t say a word- he just followed closely behind you to the kitchen. You immediately went into bartender mode, making everyone’s drinks to bring back to the living room, but Josh stood still watching you from the entryway of the kitchen- still not talking.

“Hey, Josh, you mind helping me make a couple drinks real quick? I need some help over here,” you chuckled, but stopped when you noticed he wasn’t responding and turned to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about you not getting your needs met? You know I would’ve helped you out, ma,” Josh asked, closing the distance between you two.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to finish making everyone’s drinks. “Helped me? What does that even mean? Look, I really don’t wanna talk about this right now, so can we put this convo on the back burner until the night is over with? Good, now help me carry these drinks back to the living room, would you?” You sighed, grabbing a few cups before brushing past him to head back to the group- leaving Josh alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

After a couple more games and a few more drinks, it was time for everyone to head out for the night. You rode to Joe’s house with Josh, who you hadn’t talked to since the conversation earlier in the kitchen. You were crashing there for the night, 1. Because you knew you’d have a drink too many and wouldn’t be able to drive, and 2. Because staying over at each others’ houses was a common occurrence nowadays. You both said your goodbyes to the group and headed back to his place. The car ride was silent, neither of you talking to the other and only the low hum of whatever songs were on Josh’s playlist. You stared out of the window the whole car ride, watching the blur of the city lights pass by and replaying you two’s conversation in your head over and over. What did he mean by, “I would’ve helped you out?” How would he have helped you?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the car pulling into Josh’s driveway and being put in park. Josh got out quickly, while you sat for a second to let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Well, here goes nothing.

You got inside and went to take your jacket and shoes off, barely getting yourself situated before Josh spoke.

“So, are you ready to talk about it now or are you just not gonna address it?” Sigh, here we go.

“What is there to address, huh? All I did was tell the truth, I haven’t had a guy go down on me before. I don’t really understand what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that you should’ve told me about this a long time ago,” Josh replied, “If you had told me I could’ve done something about it.”

“Done something about it? How, Josh? What could you have possibly done about it? It doesn’t even matter and honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so worked up over it.”

“Oh, c’mon Y/N, don’t act stupid. You know damn well if I had known about it I would’ve offered to be your ‘first’.” Sorry, what? You blinked hard, trying to make sure you heard him correctly. “Shit, as far as I’m concerned, offer’s still on the table,” his voice lowered, making slow strides towards you and backing you into the door, “What kind of ‘best friend’ would I be if I didn’t make sure you were taken care of, hmm?”

You shivered at his words, feeling the lust that was oozing from his words engulf the space between the two of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined Josh like this before. Hell, he’s who you think about when you’re touching yourself at night. Sure, he was attractive, but lately you’d developed feelings for the man. You craved him in more ways than one, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually end up in this position- trapped between him and the door while he dragged his fingers along your sides, trailing further and further down…

“So, what’s it gonna be,” he paused, his hand finally reaching your core and rubbing you through your leggings you were wearing. He groaned, feeling your wetness that had soaked through now pooling on his fingers. “You gonna let me take care of you baby?” He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Imma eat this pussy in every room of the house mamas, make you cum in every one of ‘em too. All you gotta do is say the word.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire. The sultriness in his voice had you ready to completely give yourself to him. You had completely soaked through your leggings at this point, and were convinced if they weren’t so restricting you’d be dripping wet for him. You had a choice to make: let him take you right here and raise some question marks surrounding your friendship, or decline his offer and leave yourself hot and bothered? Lucky for you, your voice made the decision before your mind did.

“Please, Josh, please.”

That was all it took for him to smash his lips into yours; desperately but passionate, lovingly yet intense. Your tongues battled for dominance while the two of you hastily removed any article of clothing separating you, craving to feel the warmth of each others’ skin with nothing in the way. Both of you were now left in just your undergarments, relentlessly kissing each other like your lives depended on it. His lips made their way to your neck, leaving trails of hickies in their wake. You moaned his name and fisted his hair with each one he created, trembling with every graze of his teeth or lick of his tongue.

“You… have no idea… how long… I’ve wanted this,” he muttered in between each bruise he made. Your head was thrown back against the wooden door, relishing every moment.

“Me too,” you breathed out, and it was the truth. You had only recently come to terms with seeing him as more than your best friend, but deep down you knew your feelings had begun months prior. He was all you ever thought about, and here you were, melting underneath him as he ensured not a single inch of your body went untouched by his lips. 

His hands traveled to the back of your thighs and by pure instinct you jumped into his arms, holding you tightly as he carried you to your first stop: the kitchen. Josh laid you down on the island countertop, goosebumps erupting all over as the cold surface touched your skin. You arched your back for him to remove your bra, and once removed, he placed a trail of kisses starting from your breasts and moving down to your sternum, then your stomach, and finally your hips, where the band of your thong rested. Looking up at you, his teeth grazed the soft skin before latching onto the waistband of your thong, before sliding it down your legs. His hands slowly traveled up your calves and to your thighs, spreading them apart to give him a look at what he’s been craving since earlier this evening.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, “And all mine too. Look at how wet you are for me already, baby. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me all this time, ma.” And with that he lowers his head and licks between your aching folds, your eyes widening and rolling to the back of your head the moment his mouth makes contact. He hungrily attacks your folds as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. The moans coming from your mouth are uncontrollable, repeating his name over and over as you fall further into oblivion. 

“Tastes so sweet, baby girl, could eat you for every meal.” His words vibrate through your core and your pussy flutters. You inadvertently buck your hips but his arm stops you, holding you down so you can take everything he’s giving you right now. His mouth wraps around your clit, paying special attention to the sensitive bud and you arch your back at the touch- feeling a familiar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach and quickly reaching its peak. “F-fuckk, Josh, feels so good. I’m gonna-”

“Let it out, princess. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.”

Your orgasm rips through you, sending your body into a state you had never experienced before. You were writhing underneath him, holding onto his hair for dear life as your eyes roll into your skull and your back arches off the countertop. Strings of profanities and pants of his name cross your lips, lost in the flood of pleasure stemming from the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. You finally begin to take control of your breathing again, attempting to slow it as your body gives out and lies limp on the marble, completely wiped out. Josh lifts his head to reveal himself, mouth and beard dripping in your wetness. He smiles softly at you, proud that he was the first to eat your pussy and proud that he was able to make you completely fall apart for him. He leans up to you and gives a soft kiss to your lips, before lifting your body from the countertop and carrying you once again. “Oh, baby, I’m not done with you yet. I said I was gonna eat you in every room of this house tonight, and you know I don’t break my promises.”

“Ohh f-fuckk! J-Josh, I- I can’t, I’m-”

“Yes you can, mamas, gimme another one. You can do it, princess.” You were now on your 5th orgasm of the night. Josh had kept his promise alright, making you cum in the kitchen, living room, his office, master bathroom, and now his bedroom. You’d think after that many times a man would be exhausted, but with every time he had made you cum he had gained more energy. It’s like making you cum was his food source, and it was driving him to keep going. Once again you came hard from his mouth and tongue, vision turning white and seeing stars as you hit your orgasm. You were for sure tired, but one thought kept you going: you wanted his cock. Bad. 

“B-baby,” you panted, still coming down from your last orgasm, “Please… I want you. Fuck me, please.”

“You just came on my face 5 times, and now you want my dick? Fuck baby, you sure you can take it?” “Fuckk yes, Josh, just please… I need it, baby. I can handle one more.”

Josh takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, passionately kissing your lips as he pumps his cock and rubs his tip up and down your sensitive pussy, making you whimper into the kiss. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby girl. Imma take good care of you, I promise. You ready for me, baby?”

You nod, staring into his eyes as he slowly enters you. You cry out as his cock fully fills your pussy, already close to cumming again.

“Fuck, Y/N, so fuckin’ tight. Taking me so well,” he hisses, slowly thrusting inside of you. He wraps your legs around his waist and peppers kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips, whispering praises to you as he slowly pumps in and out of you. Your pussy tightens around him, signaling you’re close, making him moan loudly in response. “Shitt, do that again, mamas. Squeeze my shit just like that, gonna make me fuck you full of my cum, baby.” You dig your nails into his shoulders and moan in response, “Is that what you want, baby girl? You want Daddy to fill you up ‘til you’re dripping my cum? Want me to cum deep, don’t you baby?”

“F-fuck… oh my god… please, Daddy. Want your cum in me so fuckin’ bad… s-shitt, Josh, I’m so-”

“Go ahead and soak this dick, pretty girl. I’m there too, baby. Cum for me.”Any energy you had saved was completely wiped out, coming undone again for him as he buried his face in your neck and pumped you full of his cum. Both of your moans echoed in his room, engulfing you two as you fell apart together. Josh collapses on the bed next to you, you both breathing heavily, and silent. Nothing needed to be said, as you nestled into his side and drifted to sleep with only one thought on your mind: Never have I ever… well now I have… and more. 

[megwritesriddles]

Secret's Safe ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 15 - Blackmail. Reader discovers Riddle's true blood status and divulges this information to him. Riddle assumes she must be here to blackmail him and immediately attempts to seduce her, but things aren't all that simple for him actually going through with it.

Tags: Blackmail, Mildly dubious consent (barely), P in V sex, Biting, Virgin!Tom (implied), Pureblood politics, Sexism, Implied/Referenced death, murder and violence, Unspoken feelings, Feelings realisation, Oddly quite fluffy, Tom is forced to be vulnerable emotionally.

Word count: 5.5k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: Lets not discuss how long this is or how late it is, thank you!! This ended up way different than I imagined going in, Tom is a bad guy in this like he's committed murders... but he's also inexperienced and realises he loves you so... This is nowhere near as dark as I thought it would be, the blackmail is barely blackmail!! Hope you like it mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Well, this was certainly interesting. You’d never expected this, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The surname Riddle had never sounded familiar to you, and growing up, at all the Pureblood parties, no one had ever met Tom or any supposed family members. After the first year, he had started attending, but never with any family in tow, usually as a guest of Abraxas or somebody else. Why you hadn’t questioned it before you had no idea, you felt rather foolish now. Hindsight was always 20/20. Of course, there were those few pureblood families, like the Weasleys, who didn’t bother about those sorts of events, but Riddle had never given the impression that he came from such a family, always implying very powerful origins. In a way, he wasn’t wrong, with one discovery came another, that he was the heir of Slytherin. This was peripherally problematic to you, but you couldn’t put your finger on why it bothered you so much. Some distant memory writhing in the back of your mind, not making itself known. But the most glaring discovery for you had been Riddle’s muggle father. You were sure nobody knew about this, or else he certainly wouldn’t be in the circles he was in. 

The way you had discovered it had been rather unlikely, something Riddle surely wouldn’t have been counting on. You and Walburga were partnered on a project for Advanced Charms, it being the final year of Hogwarts, standards for what you came up with were high. After weeks of deliberation and workshopping, you’d settled on a book which could tell you family histories. Initially, the book’s function was for you to write in a plant name, and to see which other plant species it was closely related to and other pieces of information. Certainly interesting, but a little too Herbology for either of your liking, spitting out information neither of you could quite understand. After presenting the book to Professor Beery for a hefty extra credit and house point sum, you went back to workshopping. You’d figured out one evening how to get it to trace family histories, and this was the perfect idea, as all the information that came out was easy to understand, but could also be deeply valuable. You’d spent all evening fine-tuning it with Walburga. She was intimately familiar with her family history, so you used her as a control, making sure the facts remained accurate as you messed with the magic. It was finally done, and you would be presenting it next week. You’d taken the book back to your dorm and messed around with it before bed, taking great amusement in some of the ancient wizard’s names. Naming conventions had been so odd at some points. You traced practically every single one of your friends' histories, before landing on Riddle’s. 

Riddle wasn’t really a friend, as such. You sort of ran in the same circles and you were courteous to one another, but you weren’t close and at times you found him a little irksome. Perhaps it was this mythos that surrounded him, the idea that he had slept with three-quarters of the girls at Hogwarts who were of age. The idea that he could have you undone with one touch and that he did so often. Part of you was almost bitter he hadn’t propositioned you, given how much he allegedly got around, but you always felt he was intimidated by your intelligence. All the other girls, sure they were driven and intelligent, but they seemed to dumb themselves down around him, make themselves smaller. It was probably not even a conscious thing, many of the pureblood girls had been taught growing up never to threaten a man’s ego in any way. You’d always thought this was nonsense, that if you were more intelligent than a man that he ought to know it and needn’t be coddled, but for most of the girls, it just came naturally from a lifetime of training. You never bothered to shrink yourself around Riddle, to giggle and write off your high marks as a fluke if he came asking, you would simply say you did well because you were intelligent, and you guessed he didn’t like this because he avoided you for the most part. Whenever he did speak to you, it was usually to compare grades, or, in a group setting. He always seemed to know just a little too much about what was going on with you, what grades you’d gotten, what teachers you were meeting with. You chalked it up to him being Head Boy, but no one else received quite this much attention. 

You wrote down his name into the book anyway, figuring the surname ‘Riddle’ begat some entertaining first names. What immediately greeted you as the information materialised on the page had been a bit of a shock. His father, whose name was otherwise completely unfamiliar to you, did not have any parents listed, or further back. You sat in confusion for a moment trying to figure out why that could be, but came to no conclusions. You pushed the thought away and studied his mother’s heritage. Merope Gaunt. Gaunt, finally a name you recognised, but not a woman you could ever attest to having met at any pureblood events. You realise she’s listed as dead, that would perhaps explain a thing or two. You feel a hint of sympathy creeping over you at the realisation that both his parents are listed as dead, his father only rather recently. You wondered why he hadn’t mentioned to anyone that his father had died over the previous summer.  You trace his ancestry back all the way to Salazar Slytherin, momentarily impressed, before the realisation of why his father has no listed relatives hits you. The book was made only to track wizarding blood. His father was a muggle. 

The realisation was immediately brushed off. No, there was some other explanation, Riddle was one of the most pompous purebloods you knew, even by your standards, the idea of his father being a muggle was preposterous. You went back over the enchantments on the book, trying to figure out what other reason there might be for his father’s heritage to be blank, but come up empty-handed. He had to be a muggle. 

You keep the information to yourself for the next few days, turning it over in your mind. A muggle, it was very hard to believe, especially with how Riddle acted. He probably noticed your staring, but you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it, seeing him in an entirely new light. Tom Riddle, the orphan, the half-blood. It was confusing, to say the least. Your staring problem must have been worse than you thought because one day he sweeps you aside in the Slytherin common room and smiles charmingly.

“Is there an issue?” he prompts politely, eyes drinking in your face. “Only you keep staring,” you blink at him. You’re almost tempted to tell him ‘I know who you are,’ but you keep it inside for now.

“Shouldn’t you be used to that?” you smile. He chuckles slightly. 

“I don’t get the feeling you’re merely admiring me,” his eyes study yours for a moment and then he takes hold of your arm, leaning a little closer. “Tell me what it really is,” his voice is low and smooth as velvet, and for a moment you understand his mythos a little better. You glance around the busy common room. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to say it here,” you try to subtly warn him, but he clearly understands this to mean something suggestive, his brow raising. 

“I see,”

“If you really must know, then we must go somewhere private,” you insist, knowing how much this could blow up in his face if word spread around the common room. You’re not even sure why you’re shielding him from it, perhaps the revelation of his mother dying in childbirth makes you more gracious toward him. You’re surprised how much he hesitates, given how he’s interpreted the situation. If he’s supposedly slept with most of the girls in the year group, why would it be you who gives him pause? You know you’re not ugly enough for him to be this apprehensive, does he really feel so threatened by you? It all seems odd. Finally, he leads you away, toward his dorm room, private quarters for the Head Boy. You realise how this must all look, to him and to onlookers, but you’re sure he’s in for quite the disappointment when he discovers what this is really about. He gestures for you to sit at his desk and he sits on the edge of his bed. The distance he puts between you intrigues you, what is this about? 

“Well?” he urges, swallowing a little. Why is he so anxious? Does he know somehow already? You’ve never seen him like this before.

“This really isn’t what you think it is,” you begin. His brows furrow. “I uh… know about your father,” Riddle goes unbelievably tense and red in the face, his breaths becoming laboured. You watch him, curious. He glares at you scruntinisngly. There are several things you might be referring to, all of them bad, he doesn’t know from your expression which it is. 

“What?” he croaks, his usual composure hanging on by a thread, you’re worried he’s about to lash out and start smashing up the room and you with it. His body is taut like a bowstring.

“That he’s a muggle,” you respond. You can’t understand why he relaxes slightly at this, but he does, though he still looks tense and mortified. He puffs out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s not arguing, so you know it must be true. “And that he’s dead,” you add. He tenses all over again, his eyes flicking back to you. “Sorry for your loss,” he relaxes once more.

“Right yes… that was… terrible when he… died,” he puffs out, unsure how to interpret this situation. You don’t look angry or scared, so you must be missing a few puzzle pieces here. He should have expected that someone would discover this one day, his surname wasn’t a part of the sacred 28. He hadn’t known about that in the first year, and once he’d already introduced himself as pureblood, he could hardly backtrack or change his name, so he just prayed his confidence would keep him getting by, and surprisingly it had, until now. It wasn’t a surprise it was you who found out, you were always irritatingly observant, it was honestly more of a surprise it had taken this long. He stares at you for a moment and you stare back. “What do you want?” he asks, figuring you’ve come to gloat in his face and demand he do your homework for the rest of the year or something. He would do it, he really couldn’t afford this getting out, especially not to his Knights. The fact you hadn’t already told everyone indicated an intention to blackmail him, you could have easily spread the word already, but you were smarter than that, he knew you were.

“What do I want?” you tilt your head quizically.

“I assume you’re here to blackmail me, so just tell me already,” he sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He was furious with himself that he hadn’t prepared in any way for this eventuality. What would he have done if you’d spread the word without coming to him first? His whole plan, everything he’d been working for would have crumbled in minutes. He would have probably killed you, although the thought gives him pause now, it wouldn’t have really fixed things anyway. 

Blackmail hadn’t actually crossed your mind, but you supposed you were in the perfect position to do so. As you watched him, discomposed for seemingly the first time in his life, you realised just how much he needed this information to remain secret with you. You could ask him for anything and he would probably do it. At your silence, Riddle lets out a frustrated howl and collapses back onto his bed, clearly thinking you’re playing some game with him. He runs his hands through his hair, staring up at the canopy above his bed. His hair is messed up, you realise you’ve never seen it like this, free of its immaculate style. The look suits him. His arms thud onto the bed at his sides and he groans again. You stand and come to kneel beside him on the bed without much thought. He looks up at you through his lashes, half angry, half intensely vulnerable. It's odd to be looking down at him like this, but it’s also a little exhilarating.

“Just tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you,” he pleads, staring up at you. “Come on, darling,” he tries his best to be his charming self even in this state, reaching for your hand. “I’ll do anything,” His cold hand on yours stirs something odd in you, he brings the back of your hand to his mouth and kisses it, his eyes locked on yours. He’s not sure what he’s doing, but it’s working, he watches as you blush. He kisses slowly up your arm, eyes locked on yours the whole while. As his lips brush the ticklish skin of the inside of your elbow, you finally withdraw your arm. He frowns, thinking he’d figured you out.

“Why have you never propositioned me?” you ask, your voice a little too serious for how insecure the question sounds leaving your lips. His brows furrow and he moves to sit up in front of you.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve supposedly slept with nearly the entire legal female population of Hogwarts and you’ve never propositioned me?” you hate how insecure you sound, but it’s something that you realise has been bothering you for a long time, as stupid as it is. He stares at you.

“You’re supposed to be smart,” he scoffs, and then changes his approach, figuring offending you is a terrible idea at the moment. “Have you ever actually spoken to any girl who has a story about sleeping with me, or is it all hearsay?” his words make you comb back through all the wild stories you’ve heard. He’s right, none of them have ever come directly from someone, all having started with something to the effect of ‘my friend heard…’. You study his face for a moment and he raises a prompting brow.

“No, I suppose you’re right,” you admit, chewing your lip. There are so many things that you should have been paying more attention to, this was another plainly obvious fact with hindsight. “So… what’s the truth?” he looks away from you, hesitating. “Oh come on, as if I don’t know worse things about you by now,” you tease. He glares for a moment but concedes that you’re right about that. 

“None of it is true, no girl at this school is… good enough for me, I suppose,” he mumbles, sticking his chin up. 

“Good enough for you?” you hum.

“I can’t give myself away to just anyone… it’s…” he hesitates, knowing he sounds completely pathetic despite his attempts to reframe this. 

“You’re waiting for the right person?” you chuckle. “How uncharacteristic of you,” he huffs.

“Oh shut up, will you? It’s just… I don’t trust… very easily… and people underestimate how much trust is involved in an act like sex… you are completely vulnerable, physically and emotionally,” he crosses his arms defensively as he explains himself. “You could hardly defend yourself if the other person were to attack you during it,” you tilt your head at him. “It leaves you weak, in every sense of the word, so I have seen no need to participate,”

“That must have been a big disappointment to many witches,” you tease. He rolls his eyes. 

“I can usually charm my way out of any issues, and the gossip around my ‘conquests’ has persisted, so it can’t have caused that much strife,” he finishes. You hum, supposing he’s right. “None of the girls are intelligent enough for me here,” he asserts. You scoff.

“Awfully sexist of you,”

“Hardly,” he snaps back. “None of the boys are suitable either, but I don’t consider them because I’m not… that way inclined,”

“Anyway, I didn’t think you liked intelligence in a woman,” you add. 

“Why would I not? I love intelligence, I require intelligence, I would never fraternise with somebody lacking intellect, I would be far too bored,” he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

“But you don’t seem to like when I assert my intelligence,” you shrug.

“You’re different,”

“Why?” you laugh in disbelief. “I’m too intelligent that it threatens you?”

“No!” he hisses. “For one, you use your brains for the most infuriating of things, such as looking into my family history,” you’re tempted to interrupt him and tell him that the discovery had been an accident but you stay quiet. 

“And for two?” you press. He’s silent for a long moment. 

“Is this what you wanted? Blackmailing me into an argument? Because I’m sure we could have found a reason to argue without all this,” he griped. You sighed. No, you hadn’t particularly wanted to argue, you hadn’t particularly wanted anything, you’d intended to keep this information to yourself really and then when it had come out, you hadn’t considered blackmail until he brought it up. Your mind flashes back to his kisses up your arm, a warm tingle going through you. 

“Were you attempting to seduce me earlier?” he glances at you, his cheeks just slightly pink. “Even though you’re waiting for the right person?” you add with a chuckle. He sighs. 

“I might have been, I figured it was my best bet,” he shrugs it off, feigning nonchalance. 

“What would you have done if I had gone with it?” you tilt your head curiously.

“Gone with it, I suppose,” he looks down, fiddling with his tie pin, feeling more uncomfortable than he was ever used to feeling.

“You’d have slept with me?” you enquire. He nods subtly, puffing out a short breath. “Even though I might have stabbed you in the back or something?” you tease. He glares at you.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he dismisses.

“So you trust me?” you challenge. He immediately opens his mouth to protest but then falters. Does he trust you? He knows you would never attack him physically, and he tries to brush that off as the belief that you are physically weak, but he knows that’s not true. If he were to attack you, he has no doubt you would put up quite a fight, but that you would never initiate. He hadn’t even thought through the fact that despite all his reservations, he really had been trying to seduce you, and not even reluctantly. He would have slept with you, and he wouldn’t have been afraid of what you might do to him. Sure, the emotional vulnerability was still a point of contention, but initially, he hadn’t had the time to consider that. Now that he’s given it some proper consideration, why is he not changing his mind?

“I suppose,” his voice is strained, like this is taking a great deal of effort for him to say. “That in some weird way I do trust you,” his expression is pained and he won’t look at you, but you know those words mean way more than they do on the surface. He’s never admitted to trusting anyone before, at least not truthfully, and to admit it to you… it’s frightening, and yet he did it anyway. You hold out your hand to him to see what he’ll do. He takes your cue despite himself, taking hold of it and kissing the back of your hand a few times. His lips are gentle and you quite like the feeling. Sure, he told you the rumours about him were false, but perhaps he really could make you come undone with just one touch, if you only showed him where to put it. “I’ll sleep with you if that’s what you like,” he admits quietly. “I need you to keep my secret, I’ll do anything,”

“Would you like to sleep with me?” you ask. He looks up at you, lips pressing against your wrist. His look is a little pained again, you’re not sure how to read it.

“I’ll do it,” he grits out.

“But do you want to? I don’t want to force you to sleep with me…” you try again. He gives you that pained look once more. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, to admit to such weaknesses as need and lust, he hopes you understand without words. He kisses all the way up your arm, leaning closer and caging you in as he starts to press kisses to your neck. You exhale shakily, placing your hands on his shoulders as he continues to lavish you with tender kisses. He presses you back, back until you fall onto his pillows and he follows you down, positioning his body over you, his hands on either side of your shoulders. He’s breathing hard as he looks down at you, his pupils dilated. You stare back up at him, still a little unsure. “Riddle… don’t force yourself, I don’t–”

He cuts you off with a deep kiss to your lips, you gasp slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring slowly. This kiss is not forced, this kiss is genuine and furiously wanting and the thought makes you moan. He shivers in return, kissing a little harder. Your hands come to his shoulders again as he comes to rest on his forearms, his neck no longer straining to you. You part your legs so he can settle between them, his hips pressing to yours. You can’t help but gasp again when you feel his erection press against you. He smiles against your lips, his signature cocky smirk returning. 

“You sound amazing when you gasp like that for me,” he taunts. You roll your eyes, kissing him once more. It’s almost impressive how he’s able to maintain that arrogant air throughout all this. You hate it, yet you can’t deny the soft pulsing feeling between your legs. He continues to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours, his tongue slowly swirling and caressing, the sound of your lips meeting is both erotic and hypnotic, lulling you further into your aroused state. Your eyes are closed in bliss, but occasionally you open them for a glimpse of him. His lashes flutter as he kisses you, his cheeks are flushed which you didn’t even realise was possible before today, and his hair falls forward, surprisingly curling up a little as it encounters the sweat forming on his forehead. He kisses you like it’s his favourite thing in the world, gentle yet thorough, and you hope it is so that you might get to do this with him again. His kisses get a little needier as you feel him hardening further against you, pressing against you more insistently. Your hand settles on the back of his neck and you hold him in place as he kisses you. He grunts appreciatively, sucking on your bottom lip. He sits up suddenly, disconnecting your lips. You pant as you stare up at him in confusion, wondering if he’s stopping this from going further, but instead, he’s loosening your tie. You lie there and let him do the work, after all, he’s meant to be keeping you sweet. He doesn’t seem to mind. He takes great satisfaction in slowly peeling away your clothes, discarding your tie, and then unbuttoning your shirt. He’s making you vulnerable beneath him and he’s drunk on the feeling, although, he doesn’t intend to hurt or exploit you, he’s never had such pure intentions in anything he’s done before in his life. Which is odd, considering you’re about to sleep together. He traces the lace of your bra with his fingertips. “Been expecting me?” he teases, wondering about how nice the bra is, black and lacy.

“No, just a happy accident,” you chuckle as he runs the lace between his fingers. He’s a little disappointed that you hadn’t had this all planned out all along, but he figures there’s plenty of time for that in the future. It doesn’t occur to him at the moment that he’s just admitted to himself that he intends to do this again with you. He takes hold of your waist and eases you up to sit. He gives you a few gentle kisses on your neck, making you throw your head back and then he reaches around to your back to unclasp your bra. He’s heard horror stories of embarrassment from his peers, so takes a moment to acquaint himself with the mechanism, running his hands back and forth along your back as you rest heavily against his chest, your chin on his shoulder. Once he understands how it works, he uses both hands to unhook it easily. He slides the straps down your arms and bares you to his gaze. You lean back to give him a view, enjoying his wide-eyed look. He cups your breasts in his hands and kisses you once again. He lays you back down, gently kneading your flesh, groaning at the feeling. You’re soft and warm and it feels so good that he wishes you’d found out he was half-blood earlier, or that he’d been less stuck-up this whole time and propositioned you like you seem to have wanted. He moves his hands down to your stomach, stroking for a moment before popping to button on your skirt and sliding down the zip. He then eases the fabric down over your hips.

“Matching set,” he comments upon spying your lacy black underwear. “Sure you weren’t expecting me?” you roll your eyes. 

“Yes, I’m sure,”

“Someone else?” he questions as uninterestedly as possible. You chuckle, sensing the hint of jealousy in his tone.

“No, just wanted to feel good for myself,” he nods at your answer, hoping you don’t spot his relief. He runs his hands up and down your hips and waist, occasionally squeezing the supple flesh. 

“The female body is quite… pleasant under the hands,” he comments, kneading your hips gently. You give him a look. “Well… your body is anyway,” he runs his thumbs over your stomach. You smile up at him and he avoids your gaze, not wanting to confront the way that look just made him feel. He decides to speed things along, desperate to come out of this alive. He moves back enough to remove his own tie and shirt, secretly enjoying the way you’re watching. Then he stands and slowly lowers his trousers, taking his boxers with them. There’s no use delaying the inevitable and he’s hardly ashamed of his body. He steps out of his trousers and sits back down between your legs. He kneads your thighs as he lets you look him over.

“That scar on your chest–” you begin but he cuts you off quickly with a kiss, not wishing to discuss this right now when he’s so close to you, to having you. If you started asking about all his various scars, you’d be here a long time, and you’d run away from him well before he finally got to sink into your cunt for the first time. The thought stirs his cock. No, he can’t let you ask questions until later, he needs to have this at least once, he hasn’t even realised how much he’s been waiting for it. For… you. His cock rests heavily on you through the lace of your underwear, hot to the touch. He kisses you intently, sensual and all-consuming until you forget your line of questioning. He’s smug that he’s able to do that to you, perhaps he should have kissed you the second you started bringing things up you weren't supposed to. Perhaps by the end of this, you’ll have forgotten how it started and only remember the way he’d made you feel. Yes, that would be good. The thought urges him on, he nearly rips off your underwear. You squeak indignantly and he kisses your neck in an effort to placate you. He didn’t really care if he’d ripped them or not, but he couldn’t have you turning your back on him now. Not after he’s bared himself like this. He reaches down and lines himself up with you, ready to plunge in, but one last thought keeps him at bay.

“Are you on the potion?” he grunts, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Yeah,” you swallow, staring down at where the two of you are about to be joined together. He waits for nothing else, easing himself into you, he groans loudly against your neck, the warmth surrounding him feeling euphoric. Your arms settle around his back, holding him close to you and he lets you, leaning against you heavily. He grits his teeth, trying to keep in control, but he can’t. His hips start rutting into you fast, he needs this and he has you now, he can’t stop himself. You grip his shoulders hard, gasping and wailing, the sounds only egging him on. 

“Yeah?” he groans between thrusts as you whine sweetly in his ear. “That feel good..? fuck…” he’s not one to usually swear in this way, part of his charming demeanour, but he can’t help it slipping out with you. You make him all sorts of vulgar that he’s never been before. He pounds into you, glad that you don’t seem to mind his ferocity. He’ll be gentle with you some other time, but right now, all this pent-up energy needs to come out, and you’re receiving it so well. “Taking me so well, darling,” he chokes out, and you moan in response, seemingly touched by his words. He lifts himself up onto his hands, staring down at you, his hips slamming into yours. He watches your beautiful face in fascination as it twists with pleasure. He’s never taken so much enjoyment in making someone feel good before, it reminds him of the feeling he gets when he exerts power over someone, but better, because it’s you and he– 

He can’t finish that thought, he refuses to. It’s too much. He keeps up his relentless pace, closing his eyes because the sight of you is stirring his chest along with the stirring in his stomach. His thrusts slow, but become deeper and more powerful. You moan unabashedly under him and the sound invades his mind, consuming him completely. He leans back down and buries his face in your neck biting down as his hips stutter and he spills deep inside you. The biting is the only thing preventing him from saying something he knows he’ll regret in his dizzy orgasmic state. Three disgusting little words that he’s never thought before in his life, that surely, he can’t mean now, even if they’re fighting their way out of his mouth. When he feels you orgasming around him, he clamps down on your neck harder, tasting a little blood. He finds himself feeling sorry for doing it. He lets go, gasping for breath. He presses a kiss to the bite mark on your neck, reluctantly apologetic. You whimper beneath him and he pulls back to check you’re okay. You are, just overwhelmed, he is too, though he’s not letting it show as blatantly as you are. He withdraws slowly from you, whining in tandem with you at the feeling. He sits back up between your legs, looking down at you. Your eyes are closed as you gather yourself. You trust him enough to lie there with your eyes closed, he could do anything to you right now. Things he has done to others before, and yet there you lie, trusting him like he trusts you. He scoops you up into his arms and rests your head against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry for drawing blood,” he mumbles as if it’s enough of an excuse for him to hold you like this. He kisses the bite mark again, secretly a little thrilled that it’s there, a physical reminder of all this. He soothes your back, rubbing soft circles, an action he’s never performed before. “You’ll keep my secret right?” he asks, and realises suddenly he doesn’t know what he’s referring to. The fact of his blood status? The lie of his mythos? The fact he’s just slept with you, been this vulnerable? Or… the worst one of them all? The unspoken words that he’s sure you’re smart enough to have heard in the silence by now. You don’t know which he’s referring to either, but you answer sincerely nonetheless. 

“Your secret is safe with me, Tom,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

thank you to @i-live-in-spite and several anonymous asks whose ideas I pulled from a little to form this plot, lots of love ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[a-little-lostmoon]

some LU headshots in my style for personal reference. subject to change bc drawing consistently is a bitch but overall i think i’m happy w them! (ignore the comic/writing idea in the upper right corner it may or may not be made into a full think idk yet—)

typed notes for each lu member + a little extra below cut

wild—

oval eyes

rounder oval ((ish)) face

amber earrings

healed scarring

androgynous

i tried to reference the boys’ canonical character models to individualize their features more. i love botw and totk sm but personally i’m not the hugest fan of the way the characters look for it? even so, i think the rounder sort of eye shape works really well for my wild

his colors specifically i drew to be a bit more sunset kissed/orangeish bc i was referencing a wild photo in which the time was sunset. thats abt it. but i think it’s really pretty on him so i’m probably just keeping that whenever i draw wild

warriors—

cheek bones/jawline

rounder ears

pointy eyes ((eyeliner that could stab a person))

cheek scar bc i felt like it

i stole away some of wars’ side fringes, forgive me i couldn’t decide whether i wanted them to cover up his jawline and chickened out. if anyone actually read the comic thing you’ll see smth abt the old man and wars talking abt how his hair parted to the other side of his face during the war. i made it to ‘vent my frustrations’ bc i drew his hair part referencing HW photos of link instead of LU wars and it’s now become my headcanon.

his hair color is vivid bc HW color pallet is pretty damn vivid and his eyes & earrings are a deeper blue to match his scarf. color coordination!

anw he’s a pretty boy so i made him pretty — that’s pretty much the rest i have to say abt that

time—

tired eyes

longest ears

(slight) rbf

both time & legend have half circle/oval eyes ((kind of. at least that’s what i tried to go for to give them a more worn/serious look))

i’m not the best with differentiating ages. i tried to make him look a bit more worn/oldest but i also wanted all of them to still carry some of that classic pretty boy link look. don’t have much else to say but he has the longest/angular ears bc fairy boy. let’s pretend four’s don’t look longer than his i drew him later and forgot

twilight—

<-takes more features from malon ((who i haven’t drawn yet so you don’t have any reference on that))

pretty boy face (wasn’t intentional but it is what it is)

twilight princess link is v pretty. twilights usually one of the more rugged (for lack of a better term) looking ones bc he’s among the taller ones/apart of the “adult” squad but i accidentally made him very pretty looking. oops. don’t know if that will remain consistent for him if i draw him more so we shall see

him and time share less features than i might’ve wanted? you can see a bit of time’s jaw in the way his face curves but overall they don’t share many features. again, he takes more after malon. but their hair textures are incredibly similar if that means anything

gave him jade studs bc they reminded him of midna and are practical enough that he can just keep them in the whole time (bc he will lose them or forget abt them if he takes them off)

sky—

rounder face

big eyes

lips

big ears

his hair color was a bitch to get right im not sorry i had to say it color is so hard to work with. in any case! skyward sword link has bigger looking eyes cus of the style and i just ran w that. his earrings are magenta to match sun’s dress but look red when the light catches them right (or wrong ig bc they look red in dim light too) just bc i realized his earrings were red to match his outfit/crimson.

sky and the next three (everyone sans wind) probly look the least off their character models

legend—

oval iris

full rbf

multiple piercings ((this is important for u to know))

longer narrow face & features

boy’s a strawberry blond bc i said so. and also legend purple eyes propaganda. i don’t know where exactly that originated but like i love it and im on board. he also has purple stud earrings he always keeps in — curious, isn’t it. he probably has more than i gave him but well, thats all i gave him. it gets the picture across. hc that legend realized he couldn’t get more fingers for his rings but he could get more piercings that could handle jewelry that did almost exactly the same thing. practicality!

also i couldn’t decide on legend’s hair length. its all hidden by that hat of his so i just… didn’t draw the back half portion of his hair. does that make my legend bald at the back of his head? you decide.

hyrule—

wide face narrow chin

freckles!!!

bigger earlobes

the earlobes is me projecting /hj but i tried to reference the og link’s face shape for him which idk if i like yet. he has freckles and more accent colors in his hair and eyes which is a subtle thing but a sorta maybe reference to his fairy magic. no piercings for him! i forgot them/didnt see them on og link and can’t really imagine when hyrule would ever get the time to pierce them so he and wind can do that together eventually to bond. legend will do it probly — he obviously has the experience and wild can’t be trusted (offered to pierce winds ears with a knife canonically)

wind—

big eyes

void eyes

big ears but rounder than skys

soft face

fluffy hair

wind’s 100 yard stare *does* things to the chain but none of them tell him that because he’d definitely use it to freak people out. i couldnt decide between going lighter sun bleached hair wind or bright blinding yellow toon link hair so i kind of meshed them together to create that. tried to make him the youngest looking

four—

symmetrical angles ((and then i drew a polygon quadrilateral bc thats the shape i used as a reference)) for cheeks and eyes

minish feather ((earring))

minish ears & nose

hime bangs

yk the picture of a minish that comes up when googled? thats what i used as a reference for his features. ears specifically, nose somewhat. four’s eyes are usually the greyish hazel color you get from mixing all of their colors together but i liked the split look for this piece more. his hair color is also wind’s but inverted so wind’s lights are four’s highlights and his darks make up the brunt of the base color as a slight reference to how it’s occasionally theorized/hc that wind is four’s descendant.

and the hime bangs were bc i wanted a little more “link side fringe” variation and i thought the sort of straight cut looked nice. hime bangs are not the right term tho bc he parts them to the side and doesn’t have that straight cut on his forehead but i’m too lazy to fight the correct term

— thank u for reading, go hydrate and eat if you have not <3

[bravevulnerability]

3x22 au with castle and beckett in the pool together pleeease

Castle wades in the shallow end, the pool mostly empty save for a man swimming laps and a woman, whom he just watched dive into the deep end. Her gaze snags on him the second she comes up for air. 

She swims over to him with irritation in her eyes flaring like the sun overhead. 

“I told you to stay on the deck,” Beckett growls.

“Beckett, people have seen us here together,” he reasons, trying so very hard to stop his eyes from wandering past her face, down to the exposed skin of her chest, sun-kissed and decorated with rivulets of water that race to converge at the v of her swimsuit. “Don’t you think it might look suspicious if I sit by and sip piña coladas while you seduce Royce’s killer?”

She doesn’t buy his reasoning. Not at all.

“Okay, okay, I also wanted to swim in the pool. It’s a nice pool, Beckett-”

Kate curses under her breath and flicks her eyes over his shoulder, her gaze landing on something that has her straightening in the water. Russell Ganz, he’s certain, and she confirms it when her gaze snaps back to meet his.

“Okay, since you ruined my original plan, we’re going to have to improvise.”

“I’m game. So how-” He chokes on his question as Kate places her hands to his bare shoulders. Her fingers dig into his skin ever so lightly as she uses him for purchase to reel herself in close. Her body glides through the distance between them, drifting through the water until her arms are lacing snugly around his neck.

"Castle."

He can't breathe.

"Castle," she snaps, but her lips are curled in a tight smile. "You're making me look bad. Touch me back."

"Say less," he mutters, reaching for her thighs.

She gasps in surprise when he hefts her up, her legs instinctively curling around his waist.

"I said touch not - grab," she huffs, but her arms remain folded around his neck.

"I didn't grab," he murmurs, slipping his palms up her thighs, past her hips, and splaying them wide at her spine. Her lips purse. "I'm just playing the part of a very interested male companion."

Beckett smirks, leans forward to tilt her mouth towards his ear. "So your normal role?"

"Funny," he mutters, but he's trailing his fingers up the line of her vertebrae, savoring the hitch in her breath, the stutter of it in his ear. "But you're not wrong. Though, I'd call this a more hands-on approach."

"Castle, I am trying to get Ganz's attention, stop-"

"Distracting you?" he grins, one of his hands lifting to curve along her shoulder.

He loves the structure of her bones, the strength he can see carved into her shoulders. He traces the bone of her clavicle with care, hooks his thumb under the strap of her suit.

Her head turns, nose bumping into his cheek. "He's on his phone. Not looking yet. Stop."

"I'm just touching. You said to touch-"

"I'm going to hit you," she mutters, unfurling her arms to cup her hands at his nape, lean back in his grasp. And oh, her eyes are... dark. "When he looks this way, I'm going to shove you away and get out of the pool. He'll follow."

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, lowering the hand at her shoulder back to her outer thigh. Which is pressing snugly into his hip. Holy shit he can't believe he has Kate Beckett wrapped around him.

"Because I have a plan," she shrugs, her own eyes tripping down his face, over his mouth, down to his chest.

The elegant line of her throat ripples.

Her thumb is moving in a maddening circle just below his ear, her palm draped at his pulse point. She's so close, her lips just inches away from his, the heat of her body flush with his, ruining the reprieve of the water.

He's going to kiss her. Again.

"Beckett?"

Her eyes flutter and she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry."

"What-"

And then she dunks his head under the water.

-

He's dripping wet and waiting for her when she meets him behind the bushes. But before he can say a word, she's poking him.

"Ow!" he hisses, protecting his chest before she can stab him again while she whisper yells at him.

"He called me green, Castle! What the hell were you doing?"

"I saw his phone in the cabana after you tried to drown me," he scowls. "I thought it was worth the risk."

"You took his phone?"

"No, I took a picture of his recent calls list while you were busy flirting it up."

"What?" The smile spreads wide across her face. "Where is it?"

"Don't poke me," he warns as he digs for the phone in his pocket.

"Poke you? I wanna kiss you," she grins, taking the phone from his proffered hand.

He tightens his grip on the thick towel around his waist. His life can be so unfair.

"I'd like that," he risks. "Least you could do after you dunked me."

"Oh please," she sighs, glancing up at him with mischief in her eyes.

"Beckett, water went up my nose. Do you know how unpleasant-"

She lifts on her toes, lips at his cheek and dangerously close to his mouth.

She presses a kiss to his skin.

"Better?" she husks, and he curls his fingers at her hipbone, fisting the slinky, wet fabric of her wrap, her swimsuit, in his hand.

He exhales slowly. This new game they're playing, teasing the fire between them... he's not sure he can survive it.

"For now."

[adventuretimetournament]

Demon Blood Sword

Description: The entire sword is dark red, being made of blood. It is a bastard sword with a bevel down the middle of the blade from point to guard. The guard resembles a Celtic cross, with the horizontal line extending beyond the circle and ending in three symmetrical rounded points. The grip is two-handed and bound in leather, and the pommel resembles a solid torus with a tiny cross at the end.

History: The sword was forged by the demon Kee-Oth from his own blood and immediately stolen by Joshua. Finn then inherited the sword by conquering Joshua's dungeon. The sword was Finn's main weapon until Kee-Oth forced him to break it, allowing the sword to be reabsorbed as demon blood. Finn briefly attempted to use the broken-off hilt as a weapon, but quickly gave up.

Grass Sword

Description: The sword is green, being made entirely of grass. It resembles a katana, though the blunt edge is straight instead of curved. The guard is made up of two large grass blades pointing downwards diagonally and wrapping around each other to form the one-handed grip. With the sword upright, the pommel is an upside-down, slightly flared V shape.

History: The sword was forged by the Grassy Wizard. Finn purchased it for three dollars, and it subsequently bound itself to him by wrapping itself around his right arm, at which point he starts using it as his main weapon. In an attempt to pull Martin's ship back, the grass sword transformed Finn's entire right arm into grass, but broke off in the effort. It later regenerated as Finn's new arm, able to work as a weapon once more, and eventually separated from Finn's body permanently to fuse with the Finn Sword in order to create Fern.

Finn Sword

Description: The entire sword, except for a blue gem in the guard, is white metal. The sword resembles a gladius and is two-handed. The blade has a bevel down the middle, all the way to the blue gemstone, and the grip ends in a rounded shape for the pommel.

History: The sword was created from an alternate reality Finn when the original Finn caused a paradox, and it contained the soul of the alternate Finn. Finn uses this sword as his main weapon until he accidentally breaks it with the grass sword attempting to take it back from a thief. He stops using it for a while after breaking it, believing he has killed a version of himself, but uses it briefly again (as the blade is undamaged) until it fuses with the grass sword to create Fern. When the giant tree from Fern's remains sprouts, the Finn sword regenerates at the top, and is recovered by Shermy and Beth one thousand years later.

[otakusparkle]

Identity V New Character Release

Meteorologist (Wendy Foote) Character Gameplay Preview Video

The meteorologist, hoping to make a name for herself at the "Scientific Event," decides to bring another world-shattering downpour to the manor.

The Storm is Coming ~Missing~

External Trait: Meteorological Experiment

Wendy carries a Storm Glass that allows her to manipulate the weather around her, summoning wind, clouds, or rain.

Gale Durability: 28%-38%

Stratus Durability: 44%-57%

Rainfall Durability: 40%

Cooldown: 8 second(s)

[Gale]

Draw a horizontal line to create a gale catalyst. When a Hunter comes into contact with the gale, they are continuously pushed away by strong winds. The width of the line affects the magnitude and durability of the gale, while the height of the line's fluctuations influences its speed and the number of bends in the line determines the duration of the pushback.

[Stratus]

Draw a vertical line to create a stratus catalyst. This cloud lifts Wendy off the ground, granting her temporary flight. The height of the line determines the lift height and durability of the stratus, while the width of the line's fluctuations influences the flying speed and the number of bends in the line affects its duration.

[Rainfall]

Draw a circle O to create a rainfall catalyst. A rain cloud appears within a specified area, with a radius of 32 meters. One of the Survivors within the area will gain up to 8 Composure per second. Once a Survivor reaches 100 Composure, their Fear is reduced by half. After leaving this rainfall for 3 seconds, Composure decreases at a rate of 15 per second. The rate at which Composure increases is influenced by the number of circles drawn, while the average area of these circles determines the rainfall's moving speed. The Meteorologist has a natural affinity for rain, gaining 6 Composure per second when she is within the rainfall.

External Trait: Reversible Reaction

The volatile chemicals within the Storm Glass cause the catalyst to revert to its original form after 30 seconds. The Meteorologist can also shake the Storm Glass to decompose the catalyst.

External Trait: Environmental Awareness

The Meteorologist is keenly attuned to her surroundings, allowing her to detect injured companions within 36 meters. If the Meteorologist is the last remaining Survivor, she will continuously sense the location of the dungeon.

[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 37th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part V of Chapter 14, “La lyre d’Apollon” (“Apollo’s Lyre”).

This section was first printed on Saturday, 20 November, 1909.

For anyone following along in David Coward's translation of the First Edition of Phantom of the Opera (either in paperback, or Kindle, or from another vendor -- the ISBN-13 is: 978-0199694570), the text starts in Chapter 13 with, “He spoke to me sharply saying that I was not presentable, though it was late,” and goes to, “Imagine the scene: me pressed back against the wall, the picture of terror, and he, the personification of all that is foul!“

In this section, we get Leroux’s description of Erik’s mask (which is different than the way it is depicted in all “official” media), as well as the initial origin of Erik’s name. This is another long post, so I am putting it under a Read More.

NOTE I: This is the section of Leroux’s text where Christine describes Erik’s mask as having a "barbe,” or a hanging piece of fabric that covered the lower half of the face. I have highlighted this section in blue in the Gaulois text above.

“Je ne pouvais voir les yeux derrière le masque et ceci n’était point pour diminuer l’étrange sentiment de malaise que l’on avait à interroger ce mystérieux carré de soie noire ; mais sous l’étoffe, à l’extrémité de la barbe du masque, apparurent une, deux, trois, quatre larmes.”

Translation:

“I could not see his eyes behind the mask and this did nothing to diminish the strange feeling of unease that came from conversing with this mysterious piece of black silk; but under the material, along the bottom edge of the mask’s hanging fabric ("la barbe du masque”), there appeared one, two, three, four tears.“

This is an example of a mask with a silk “barbe,” similar to the black silk mask that Leroux described Erik wearing:

NOTE II: In the Gaulois publication of “Apollo’s Lyre,” Erik gives Christine a different origin for his name. (See #6 below.)

Erik says to Christine about his name:

"Il me répondit qu’il n’avait ni nom ni patrie, et qu’il avait pris le nom d’Erik pour se rapprocher de moi qui étais Suédoise.”

Translation: “He replied that he had neither name nor country, and that he had taken the name of Erik to become closer to me since I am Swedish.”

In Leroux’s First Edition, this line was changed to:

"Il me répondit qu’il n’avait ni nom, ni patrie, et qu’il avait pris le nom d’Erik par hasard.”

Translation: “He replied that he had neither name, nor country, and that he had taken the name of Erik by chance.”

This was part of Leroux’s evolution of Erik’s character. As Raj Shah discovered during his research into one of Leroux’s handwritten manuscripts for Phantom (which you can read in its entirety on the Bibliothèque nationale de France website), in an earlier draft of Leroux’s novel, Erik was actually of Swedish origin, and came from Uppsala, not far from where Christine Daaé was born.

Leroux then changed his mind, instead making Erik’s birthplace a town outside of Rouen, France (the city where Leroux’s parents were married). Here is the part of Leroux’s manuscript (in the Epilogue) where he makes the decision to have Erik originate in Rouen, and not in Uppsala. I have circled “Uppsala” (“Upsal” in French) and “Christine Daaé” and have underlined “Rouen”:

By the time Leroux published the Gaulois serialization of Phantom, he had changed his mind about Erik’s Scandinavian origin, but a shade of that idea may still have remained, which could explain why Erik tells Christine that he has named himself “Erik” in an attempt to appeal to her as a Swede.

Of course, Erik was either lying to Christine, or Leroux was unwittingly creating an anachronism, because Erik called himself “Erik” during his days in Persia, since the Daroga doesn’t know him by another name. This may have been why Leroux decided in his First Edition to change Erik’s explanation of his name to him taking his name “by chance.”

Erik may have chosen the name “Erik” because it means “eternal ruler.” His birth name was most likely something typically French.

NOTE III: There is a mistranslation in David Coward’s text:

In this section, Coward wrote:

"And even if you’ve never had a terrifying nightmare in your life [this is a mistranslation], you saw his death’s head mask [also a mistranslation] that night at Perros.”

However, Leroux wrote (highlighted in blue in the Gaulois text above):

“… et peut-être, si vous n’avez pas été victime d’un affreux cauchemar, avez-vous vu sa tête de mort à lui, dans la nuit de Perros.”

This translates as:

“… and perhaps, if you were not the victim of a terrible nightmare, you saw his death’s head during that night in Perros.”

THANKS FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THESE IMPORTANT MATTERS ABOUT MASKS AND NAMES, AND NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED TEXTUAL ANALYSIS!

There are some differences between the Gaulois text and the First Edition. In this section, these include (highlighted in red above):

1) Chapter 14 in the Gaulois text is Chapter 13 in the First Edition, etc.

2) Compare the Gaulois text:

“une grande paire de ciseaux” 

Translation:

“a large pair of scissors”

To the First Edition:

"une magnifique paire de ciseaux” 

Translation:

“a magnificent pair of scissors”

3) This line (highlighted in bold) was added to the First Edition, and does not appear in the Gaulois text:

"Il se plaisait trop en ma compagnie pour s’en priver sur-le-champ comme il y avait un moment consenti la veille, devant l’expression indignée de mon effroi.”

Translation:

“He enjoyed my company too much to deprive himself of it straightaway, as he had previously agreed to do the night before, in the face of the indignant expression of my fear.”

4) Compare the Gaulois text:

“Je mangeai cependant de bon appétit quelques écrevisses, une aile de poulet arrosées d’un peu de vin de Tokay…”

Translation:

“Even so, I hungrily ate several crayfish and a chicken wing, quaffed down with a bit of Tokay wine…”

To the First Edition:

“Je mangeai cependant de bon appétit quelques écrevisses, une aile de poulet arrosée d’un peu de vin de Tokay…”

Translation:

“Even so, I hungrily ate several crayfish, as well as a chicken wing quaffed down with a bit of Tokay wine…”

NOTE: The difference here is subtle, and it can only really be indicated in English by comma placement, but the Gaulois text indicates that Christine drank the Tokay wine to wash down both the crayfish and the chicken wing, while the First Edition text indicates that she drank the Tokay to wash down only the chicken wing.

This distinction is interesting from an editorial standpoint because the change may not have been intentional on Leroux’s part, and it may indicate a typo in the First Edition, since grammatically the plural past participle “arrosées” makes more sense in this context.

5) Compare the Gaulois text:

Kœnisberg

To the First Edition:

Kœnisgberg

Both refer to the city of Königsberg.

6) Compare the Gaulois text:

“Il me répondit qu’il n’avait ni nom ni patrie, et qu’il avait pris le nom d’Erik pour se rapprocher de moi qui étais Suédoise.” **

Translation:

“He replied that he had neither name nor country, and that he had taken the name of Erik to become closer to me since I am Swedish.” **

To the First Edition:

"Il me répondit qu’il n’avait ni nom, ni patrie, et qu’il avait pris le nom d’Erik par hasard.” (The italics here is Leroux’s.)

Translation:

“He replied that he had neither name, nor country, and that he had taken the name of Erik by chance.”

** See NOTE II above.

7) Minor differences in punctuation and italicization.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 20 November, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[thenightling]

Werewolf weaknesses

Two nights ago was the first night of the Full Wolf moon (First full moon of the year). It usually lasts a few days. And Friday is the release of Blum House's Wolf man (More of a remake of The Beast within than the actual Wolf Man story).

So to celebrate here are a list of the actual traditional werewolf weaknesses. Many people forget that werewolves, in folklore, and even in the old Universal monster movies were mostly immortal. Only certain things could actually kill them and they often didn't age.

Also in many lore the werewolf took the form of an actual wolf instead of a bipedal man-wolf. And they could change at will, not just on the full moon, though many were more animal-like and prone to losing control on the full moon.

The oldest known werewolf story is the Greek myth of King Lycaon of Arcadia. Lycaon served human flesh at a feast for Zeus. Zeus was so offended that he turned Lycaon into a wolf, only his eyes remained human. Over time Lycaon learned how to turn himself into a man again at will and back into a wolf at will but while a man his eyes were those of a wolf and while a wolf his eyes were those of a man so he was never truly of one world or the other. He formed his own cult when he learned how to spread what he was to other and this was the origin of lycanthropes (Werewolves) in Greek legend.

A short version of the story can be found in The Werewolf Handback by Dr. Robert Curran (Also called Bob Curran).

Now on to the werewolf weaknesses.

One final thing before I proceed. Many of these weaknesses overlap with vampires. This is because in the nineteenth century there was a common belief that if a werewolf was killed he'd come back as a vampire so there were overlapping weaknesses.

And no, I'm not listing chocolate or most things toxic to real dogs. Now, I'm very tired so please excuse the typos.

Werewolf weaknesses:

1. Silver. Curt Siodmak popularized this weakness in the 1941 movie The Wolf Man Though the weakness was popularized with this movie there are actually some eighteenth century werewolf stories that already had werewolves vulnerable to weapons made of silver. In many works of literature and popular culture silver will also work against a vampire.

2. Cold iron was a common weakness against supernatural threats such as Sidhe (Faeries) and so was also a weakness of werewolves in many traditional folklore. Neil Gaiman used this weakness briefly in The Sandman issue The Hunt. Toward the end of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles she had it that iron restraints or prisons could supress her vampires' psychic powers.

3. Certain woods / plants. This list includes Yew, Hawthorne, Mistletoe, holly, roses, rose wood, and Wolfsbane (which I'll address separately).

4. Wolfsbane is the most common herb against werewolves. In J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter books a Wolfsbane potion could control a werewolf's more feral side on the full moon. This is one of Rowling's weirdest bits of law since Wolfsbane is a real plant and highly toxic to all mammalian life. It's a deadly neurotoxin with no antidote. Don't feed ANYONE Wolfsbane, werewolf or otherwise. It's a pretty flower also know as Acconite or Monkshood. In Frankenstein meets The Wolfman, Lawrence Talbot, The Wolf Man (who had previously been killed by being beaten with a silver handled cane with a pentacle carved into it) was able to be revived from the dead by removing the wolfsbane that had covered his grave. 5. Fire. Burning a werewolf to ash will usually kill him. In the Auvergne of France there were cases of people actually tried and convicted of werewolfism (deliberately taking wolf form and killing livestock or people) and they were burnt at the stake. This will also work against a vampire.

6. Decapitation will kill a werewolf in many folktales. This may also work against a vampire.

__________________

7. The Pentacle. A five pointed star or a five pointed star within a circle works as effectively on a werewolf as a crucifix does on vampires in the novel Dracula. The pentacle was used against werewolves in The Wolf Man 1941 movie, Dark Shadows (TV series) and An American werewolf in London movie.

The Pentacle has many uses against a werewolf.

A. Wearing a silver pentacle amulet will protect you from a werewolf attack. The symbol can ward off a werewolf. A pentacle drawn on the wall of a building, inside or out, may keep the werewolf from entering, especially without an invitation.

B. According to The Wolf Man and Dark Shadows, a werewolf will see the pentacle somewhere upon the next person they are likely to kill on the full moon. C. If a werewolf wears a pentacle amulet it will prevent them from taking wolf form, especially if the transformation is against their will.

D. In some lore, a werewolf will have a pentacle shaped mark somewhere on their body, whether a scar, weird birth mark, or some other blemish. This is the tell-tale warning that they are a werewolf.

E. In many legends a symbol of faith can protect against supernatural threats. This suggests that for those who have faith in it, a pentacle will be just as effective against vampires as it is against werewolves. This comes up in Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files.

________________

8. Being born on Christmas Day is often considered a warning that you will become a werewolf.

9. Being born feet first and surviving the birth is considered a warning that you will be a werewolf.

10. Having eyebrows that meet is considered a warning you might be a werewolf (or a vampire).

11. Having purple urine is an obscure clue one might be a werewolf.

12. If the middle finger of either or both of your hands is longer than the rest this might be a hint you are a werewolf (Or a vampire. But this seems to be quite common actually.

13. If your ears come to a slight point this might be a clue that someone is a werewolf. (Or a vampire.) 14. Being the seventh son of a seventh son was supposed to mean you were a werewolf (or a vampire). Similarly being the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter was supposed to mean you were a witch. 15. Having hairy palms was supposed to be a sign that someone is either a werewolf or a vampire. 16. Sharp or pointed o fingernails is supposed to be a sign that someone might be a werewolf or a vampire. 17. Being the child of a werewolf will usually mean you are a werewolf. It's not like Monster High where you can be a "half-werewolf." You either are a werewolf or you aren't. It's like having diabetes. You either have it or you don't. There is no "half." In some stories, however, it is only passed to the male descendants, so werewolfism is likely carried by the Y chromosome. _______________________ 18. Calling a werewolf by their true name (not necessarily their birth name but the name they most heavily associate with themselves) will sometimes supposedly make them revert from their wolf form back to human form, especially if this is done by a loved one. So yes, a werewolf can be scolded out of wolf form. 19. Throwing the human clothing of a werewolf at them while they are in human form will supposedly sometimes cause them to revert from wolf to human form. 20. In some stories only someone who truly loves a werewolf has the power to kill the werewolf. 21. In some stories werewolves cannot stomach eating hair or clothing though they sometimes do eat human flesh. 22. If you became a werewolf via bite or scratch from another werewolf, killing that werewolf will remove your werewolfism. 23. Drinking water (particularly rain water) from the paw print of a werewolf is believed to be a way to become a werewolf. This means a werewolf might be vulnerable to being used by someone who wants to become a werewolf without their maker even knowing it. 24. In the UK series and American remake of Being Human, and inAn American werewolf in London and An American werewolf in Paris, werewolves have the power to see ghosts, particularly of their own victims. They can be haunted and driven to madness. So if you're dealing with a werewolf threat, your best weapons are silver, and a pentacle. Good Luck!

[theemmtropy]

I think I've found the wildest piece of music history in existence. So I went to a audio/visual store today, and they had vintage cassettes, and I was amazed to find a Travelling Wilburys one. The Travelling Wilburys were a musical supergroup consisting of Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, and Tom Petty. (I've linked their most popular songs, just in case you're not sure who they are.) So I was very excited to add it to my collection. (Side note: it plays great.) Upon opening it up this evening, I was looking at the inside pamphlet, you know, the kind that has designs and track lists and such. And I found an incredible piece of fake lore for the band, which I have typed out (CW for brief racial stereotype):

“The etymological origins of The Traveling Wilburys have aroused something of a controversy amongst academic circles. Did they, as Professor “BOBBY” Sinfield believes, originate from the various Wilbury Fairs which travelled Europe in Medieval times, titillating the populace with contemporary ballads, or rather, were they rather derived from “YE TRAVELLING WILLYBURYS”, who were popular locksmiths during the Crusades used to picking or unlocking jammed chastity belts (rather like today’s emergency plumbers.) Dr. Arthur Noseputty of Cambridge believes they were closely related to the Strangling Dingleberries, which is not a Group but a disease, an unpleasant form of crotch-rot; arguing that a “WILLBERRY” is often used as an expression for a piece of crud found in the crevice of an ancient pair of y-fronts; but I think this can be discounted, not only because of his silly name but also from his habit of impersonating Ethel Merman during lectures. Some have even gone on to suggest tenuous links with the Pillsburys, the group who invented Flour Power. Dim Sun, a Chinese academic, argues that they may be related to “THE STROLLING TILBURYS”, Queen Elizabeth the first’s favourite minstrels, and backs this suspicion with the observation that The Travelling Wilburys is an obvious anagram of “V. BURYING WILL’S THEATRE”, clearly a reference to the closing of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre by Villiers during an outbreak of plague. This would account for the constant travelling. Indeed, many victims of plague and St. Vitus’ dance literally danced themselves to death, and it is this dancing theme that resurfaces with The Wilbury Twist. Not a cocktail but a dance craze, reminiscent of The Wilbury Quadrille made famous at Bath in 1790 by Beau Diddley, and the Wilbury Waltz, which swept Vienna in the 1890’s. One thing, however, remains certain. The circumambulatory peregrinations of these itinerant mundivagrant peripatetic nomads has already disgorged one collection of popular lyrical cantata, which happily encapsulated their dithyrambic antiphonic contrapuntal threnodies as a satisfactory auricular experience for the hedonistic gratification of the hoi polloi on a popular epigraphically inscribed gramophonic recording. Now here’s another one. Tiny Hampton (Professor “TINY” Hampton is currently leading the search for Intelligent Life amongst Rock Journalism, at the University of Please Yourself, California.)"

(I've included links that might help contextualize the jokes/puns/references that I could pick up on.)

HELLO?????? WHICH ONE OF THEM WROTE THIS I NEED TO KNOW

And APPARENTLY, they all had Wilbury personas.

And BEST OF ALL, they named their SECOND ALBUM (which this is pulled from), "VOL. 3". IM WHEEZING.

[askfacultystaff]

Waiting for drawings of Dread, one of entities from Doors? Fortunately, the answer is yes. As i continue to improve my drawing skills, especially slightly changing characters while keeping original.

For Dread, since he was added back in Hunt update, he's still deserved more attention, especially when he says "Dread's reaction" repeatedly during "April Fools "Voice"" one.

Dread in my version, has his own ability besides carrying his own vintage clock as his own obsession, such as time travelling, imagining scenarios, and he now can reveal misty tentacles on his own back, adding a more cryptic, while remaining expressionless nature intact.

For outfit he now wears just mirrors midnight ocean, a sweater with clock pin attached underneath white buttoned shirt, pants and fancy black shoes. He holds toasted bread in his own hand, his other hand revealing a glowing clock as he checks a time, like a hologram.

Just because he doesn't show his own emotions too much doesn't mean he's emotionless, he's just didn't show to well-known entities, with inclusion of Rush and Ambush. So far, he deeply cares about entities, even some people.

But whenever he sees any bad person trying to hurt innocent one, he'll make them "sleep". There's only one thing he doesn't like is when someone calls him "Bread", despite he's the one who likes to eat bread himself.

What Dread loves more is taking a walk during midnight alone, as his own hair mirrors midnight ocean, and he witnessing supernatural event all thanks to his extra eyes. An eerily calming hotel entity who looks like human, but with otherwordly features.

In conclusion, Dread remains an entity man who made comeback after scrapped state 2 years ago. It's fun to play and get chased by him, i using "Destiny Still Arrives" modifier, while not as hard as other modifiers, it's still fun to go in circle at plus-shaped room as Dread chasing after person -v-

If you're Doors fan like me, likes or reblogs are appreciated. Make sure to draw my version of Dread in your style as part of challenge if you want to. I'll draw another entity next Ov^

[softnsmole]

(Original work by me, @softnsmole)

(contains size difference, fearplay, soft oral v°re, sexual content)

Til gingerly stepped in to the bath, finally having gotten the perfect temperature. Her eyes quickly flicked towards Mole, making sure he was still perched safely in his little inflatable flamingo floaty before lowering herself in to the sparkly, bubbly water.

"It's always magnificent, watching you step in to the bath," Mole called up to her, his grip on the flamingoes neck tightening with a squeak as Til's arrival upset the water. Little waves threatened to bowl it over completely, but the bubbles on either side bolstered it enough that he was able to stabilize. A silly grin, bordering on a smirk, plastered Mole's face as Til rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You're a dork," Til replied, a hand reaching under the flamingo floaty to hold it steady. She could see the shoulders of her tiny partner relax a little more, his vice grip around the poor flamingo finally loosening with a clipped squeak. He exhaled gratefully, a small, adorable sound that made the corner of Til's lips twitch in amusement. She settled further in to the bath, gently drawing the flamingo towards her as she lay down, her face nearly in the water and eyes level with Mole.

"Goddesses Gardens, how did I end up with such a handsome little bath toy?" Til teased, twitching her eyebrow in the way she knew would make her bathing partner react. She looked him up and down, idly swirling her free hand in the pink and blue shimmering water. Mole remained locked to her blue, blue eyes and shivered involuntarily. Til could see little goosebumps feathering across his opal skin. "Oh, dear," she murmured, "you look cold. Here..."

She slowly started pulling the flamingo down, into the bathwater. A little bit started spilling over the sides, just enough for Mole to slip on and stumble back, landing flat on his back with his feet sticking straight up in the air, arms still flailing for grip even though he had nothing to grab on to. Til chuckled at his gasp and subsequent huff of indignation.

"Hey!"

Til pulled her other hand out of the water, reaching for Mole. His indignation melted away as he felt warm, wet fingers wrap around him and pick him up gently. Til smiled softly as he relaxed in to her hand, arms loosely wrapped around her thumb.

"Sorry, love. You're just magnificent, the way you get in the bath."

He responded with a loose snort, recognising his ability to be graceful was definitely limited in situations like this. Taking a deep breath, he held Til's thumb tighter, reveling in the warmth and safety. He exhaled, feeling the days stress leave him and trickle down Til's hand with the dripping bathwater. Idly tracing circles on his back with her middle finger, she brought him closer to her chest, cupping her other hand around him and gently lowering both hands in the water, sloping them and making a sort of basin shape. She stopped when the warm, shimmery water was to his thighs. She could see his skin flushing as the pleasant change in temperature painted itself across his small body.

He relaxed further, letting himself slip in to the warm water, sighing deeply. Til opened her hands, guiding him to settle on her submerged chest, just above her belly. They lay like that for a while, enjoying the warm water and soft scents of the bath bomb swirling around them, the ambient spice of an incense stick hovering assertively in the background.

Mole dozed, eyes half lidded as Til continued tracing up and down his arm with a finger. She loved looking at him, admiring all his perfect little features. His scars and tattoos, the small lines of definition in his chin and cheeks, his tiny but deft hands. She shifted, settling herself again, and a low growl tremored through the bathwater. A blush was already blooming on Til's face by the time Mole opened one brown eye and peered up at her.

"You forgot bath snacks again, didn't you?" Mole teased. He was a little disappointed in all honesty; he had never liked the idea of snacks in the bath, but the first time Til dumped mini m&ms in a bowl with him and floated the bowl in the bathtub like a little candy island... How could he not be hooked? Til just huffed a little, biting her lip, annoyed at herself. Mole shifted his body against her stomach, pushing his feet in to it gently and illiciting another growl.

"Isn't it so interesting how the water seems to make it louder?" Mole asked innocently. Til could have sworn he was batting his eyelashes at her.

My boyfriend's a bath hussy, she thought to herself. But then a devious thought crossed her mind.

"Yeah... I wonder if it sounds even louder from in the water," she mused, hoping to appeal to his curious side. He thought for a second, trying to come up with how that could work, and was completely unprepared for Til quickly curling her fingers back around him and lifting him out of the water, making him jump and squirm a little.

"Hey! Hey, Til, kinda tight there," Mole yelped a little, trying not to sound as startled as he was. Til relaxed her grip a little, but not enough for him to wriggle away. He pushed out as hard as he could, trying to squeeze at least an arm free. He was panting at that point; he knew there was no earthly way he could ever be strong enough to push her hand open, but it didn't stop him from trying. It was all in good fun anyway, he thought. Right?

Finally, either through sheer luck or Til's taking pity on him, he was able to pop his left arm free between two of her fingers.

"Oh, what's this here for? Offering to give me a hand?" Til crooned, slowly opening her mouth and introducing his hand to the soft, warm darkness.

He could feel each of her tastebuds flitting over his skin like slickened stones, the bumpy surface pliant under his fingers. It slowly started creeping up his arm, approaching his elbow, wet warmth bleeding outward from everywhere her tongue touched. His face flushed crimson, a mix of sheer heat, a little desire, and fear partly to blame. He gasped as she pulled the rest of his arm in, her lips now hovering just inches from his face as she sucked gently on his forearm, and he felt a different sensation, one that felt less like a squeeze and more like a-

*glk*

In one smooth motion, he jerked his hand back right as Til swallowed. He felt the very top of her throat grasp at his fingers as he frantically tried pulling his arm away from her, feeling her soft palate and the back of her tongue teasing his fingertips, squeezing around them just enough to remind him he couldn't move without her cooperation. And she wasn't feeling in a very cooperative mood.

She pulled away from him, just enough that she could keep his hand within reach of her tongue and mouth and still look at him. He spluttered, lost for words. Had it been five minutes or five seconds? He jumped a little as a soft "mmmm" vibrated around his fingers, still pressed involuntarily in to her tongue. She finally relented, releasing him.

"Sorry, little Mo, you just taste so *good*." She smirked. His heart dropped. She only called him that when...

He didn't have time to finish the thought before her tongue was back, this time pressing at his feet. She exhaled on him, her warm breath causing him to shudder, all his tiny hairs standing on end. He gasped, wrapping his free arm tightly around her finger as she slowly dragged her tongue up his legs, stopping just short of his pelvis. He saw the corner of her lips turn up in a smile as he shivered under her tongue, grasping her finger tightly. She hummed softly, though he was unsure if that was because he held her tighter or she liked the way he tasted.

"Even better," she murmured, sultry tone dripping from her words. "You're wet..."

Mole gasped as her tongue returned, licking up further, teasing across his untrimmed mound, the wet heat sinking down. He was wet, probably had been before the bath in all honesty. But the constantly shifting, silky sensation of Til's wandering tongue commanded his attention as it inquisitively prodded him between the legs. With a jagged exhale, he let her in.

Warmth shifted to heat, and soon her tongue had snaked fully between his legs and scooped him up. Mole slipped on the slick surface, unable to grab hold of anything to brace himself as he melted in to her. Alarm bells rang distantly in the back of his mind, his body distracted by the shifting sensations everywhere and the mixed sense of safety and arousal dulling his sense of danger. Til tucked his feet in to her lips and slowly started sucking his legs in, tongue teasingly rubbing along the back of his neck, distracting him further. He bit back a moan as his hips met her lips.

Til chuckled lowly, holding Moles tiny hand between her fingers and gently squeezing. She exhaled another warm breath over him, enjoying his subsequent shudder and the smallest of lewd noises as she deliberately pressed her lips in to his hip bones, firmly pressing her tongue against his back. He tasted so *good* when he let her have him, she thought. But he was in this position because he was being punished, and Til mused that he was perhaps enjoying this a little too much.

Mole was snapped harshly out of his stupor by the realisation he was in far deeper than he thought, just in time for the back of Til's throat to coil up and close around his ankles.

"Til, what's going on-"

*gLK*

Slick, rippling muscles rolled up around his feet, gripping them frighteningly tight in their spongy but strong embrace. He tried to squirm free, but Til had her lips firmly pressed around his middle, tongue flexing beneath him as if to remind him who was in charge. He only slipped in a few inches, but it had cost him enough ground that he was beginning to feel more afraid than aroused. He realised she was holding one of his hands and pressed against her face with his free one, knowing he wasn't strong enough to stop her if she really wanted to...

"Mmm?" Til hummed around Mole, slowly wrapping her fingers around him and pulling him out of her mouth, smiling. Her eyes were locked on Mole, making him blush and squirm half heartedly in her grasp. "Something the matter?" Her words rolled over him like dense fog, pulling him back down to her like a trap. He stopped struggling for a moment to catch his breath, hunting for words.

"Jeez, Til. You.. You really got me worried there, for a second I thought you might, you might've actually... I was worried you were going to..." He trailed off nervously, reluctant to say it out loud as her gaze stayed locked to his, an almost predatory look on her face. She waited, watching him struggle for words, watching the hesitancy and fear and anticipation on his face, and she reveled in it. In perfect timing, another assertive growl came from her midsection, punctuating the silence. Til smiled wickedly.

"Say it," she breathed, the candlelight flickering off her face, hovering inches from his.

She could see the tiny beads of sweat on his face, adorable little diamonds that betrayed his feelings so that Til knew exactly how he was feeling, no matter whether he said it or not. But he took a deep breath, steadying himself, and she felt him tense faintly in her hand.

"S-swallow me..."

The last thing he saw clearly was her tongue rushing towards him. He threw his hands up, a reflexive response to protect himself, or at least tell himself he tried to. Then everything was dark and wet.

Til pressed him face-first in to her tongue with a finger, holding his legs together while she carefully tasted his front before flipping him over and pushing him in up to his thighs. Her tongue slid under him, buffering his legs from her teeth before curling up between them and pulling him the rest of the way in.

Mole panicked as his world became much, much smaller around him. The only sounds he could hear were the wet squishes from her tongue, tasting him throughoughly, her breath rolling in and out of her lungs somewhere below, her heartbeat lowly pulsing in the background and all around him. Everything was moving, and hot, and wet, and he was profoundly disoriented. He pressed his hands blindly in front of him and felt hard, smooth ridges, and realised he must be on his back, facing up, and his hands were currently pushing against the roof of his partner's mouth.

He squeaked at the sensation of her tongue lewdly slipping between his legs, searching for his folds. Til knew she found them when she saw Mole's little feet twitch outside her mouth.

Overwhelming was an understatement. Mole was barraged from every angle with sounds and sensations, and that very distracting tongue pressing firmly against his sex, making him moan and arch his back. He felt her palate firmly against his chest as her tongue continued pushing him.

A gasp escaped him when her tongue finally found his entrance and pushed against it. He couldn't help himself as he relaxed his hips and, for the second time, let her in, his fear overruled by her dominance.

Til reached up to grab his legs and try to hold him still. She wanted to taste him, every last little inch.

Her tongue tip prodded and pressed against him more firmly, finally feeling some give. Mole gasped and dropped his hips, grinding against it as it started slipping inside him. Her absolute control was intoxicating and he had yet again forgotten about what he was afraid was happening.

Til began firmly fucking Mole with the tip of her tongue, managing his squirming by keeping hold of his legs and gently sucking on him to keep him from bucking around too much. She felt his small hands running over her tongue and palate before one of them wandered lower and lower.

Naughty boy, Til thought, before swallowing.

A jolt of pleasure shot through Mole as Til's tongue slid deeper in to him, before his orientation changed. He realised he was tilting backwards slightly, just before feeling the unmistakable sensation of her throat closing around him. He tried to let out a muffled cry, but it choked off as she plunged her tongue even deeper inside him, hot and wet and pressing deep and firm in to his most sensitive places. All Mole could feel was Til, everywhere. Everything was Til.

He took a ragged breath. The throat slowly retreated from him before he heard another groan, slowly building from below until he felt her throat opening before him again, the sound of the growling gurgle from her stomach rolling up and over him like a tidal wave. He squirmed lightly in fear again before Til flexed her tongue inside him, causing him to moan and arch his back again while she giggled around him. He was so completely hers, whether he wanted to be or not.

He fought weakly as he felt her tongue stiffen again, recognising the feeling before another swallow enveloped his head and shoulders. This time, he felt his legs slip further in and her tongue began fucking him harder, her lips around his feet the only thing stopping him from being pulled completely in to her throat. He knew he was wet, but it was completely lost on him how much this was turning him on until he felt himself starting to come. He tried pulling it back, tried to pull his legs together, but she had him exactly where she wanted him and wasn't going to let go until she had her prize. He panted, grinding harder against her tongue, relinquishing himself to her and this moment completely.

He cried out as he crested, gripping her tongue with his knees as he spilled all he had in her mouth. He felt her moan softly around him, her own heartbeat speeding up around him as she continued fucking him, her tongue rolling beneath him as she swallowed his pleasure.

He was still coming as he felt her throat, familiar now, reaching up and wrapping around his upper body. It was hot and tight and so, so wet. He couldn't fight if he wanted to as he weakly bucked his hips in to her slowing tongue. She gently started pulling it out before licking him clean and swallowing again.

He whimpered softly as the throat embraced him tightly, taking charge now as it squeezed around him. Til lay back, letting his own weight and movements sink him further in to her throat. He could feel her tongue pressing against his legs, tucking them up before another languid gulp embraced the rest of his body. He wriggled in her throat as the ribbed, rippling muscles shifted and pulled him deeper inside her. It was too slippery to get any kind of grip or even slow himself down as another rolling swallow pressed his face to a firm ring of muscle. He barely had a moment to explore it with his hands before it opened before him, squeezing him out in to the dark, humid chamber.

It was dark, but not absolute, and as his eyes adjusted he could see the wrinkles in the walls, softly lit with a pinkish tinge. His heart fluttered in his chest as the stomach moved around him, gently squeezing him in a full body embrace before relaxing around him, cradling his small form gently. He curled up against the nearest wall, hand pressed to it as he breathed deeply. He could feel her heart.

Til smiled, placing a hand over her stomach, feeling him flutter within her. The water was warm around her and she sighed, sinking deeper in to the bath, the swirling waters dancing around her.

"You okay in there, little one?" She murmured, stroking her belly. She felt him tapping against the walls, their signal that he was okay. She smiled, wrapping her arms around herself, loving the feeling of the warm water around her and her lover within her.

Mole knew she had settled deeper in to the bath because the sounds around him changed. Her heartbeat became slower, her stomach relaxing around him. He could hear the water shifting around outside her stomach, every sound in her body amplified and enveloping him. It was warm and soft like wet silk. He lay back and closed his eyes, dozing off, the familiar feeling of his lover surrounding him.

[rjalker]

free crochet pigeon pattern

original page (Archived link)

PDF link here. (Archived link)

if you follow the original pattern with the yarn sizes and stuff it's 15 inches or 38 centimeters tall.

Basic pattern with symbols to simplify, no color change suggestions so you can do whatever you want:

Body: End all rows with a slip stitch and a chain 1 to start the next row.

Chain 2, 6 single crochets into the first chain. Or use a magic circle. But I don't like them.

VVV

IV

IIV

IIIV

IIIIV

IIIIIV

IIIIII(6)V

III

III

IIIIIII(7)V

III. Place a stitch marker in the 7th, and 18th stitches to mark where the legs will go. (Or don't)

III

IIIIIIII(8)V

III

III

III

III(30)X.III(11)X. Place a stitch marker for the tail. X. Repeat III(11),X, until end of row.

III(30)X.III(7)XXXX III(7)X

III

III(39)X. III(8)

III

III(27) Repeat until the end of the row: X.IIIII.

III

III

III(7)X.

III. Place stitch markers in the 6th and 26th stitches for the wings. Or don't. You can always just…wing it.

III(7). IX, IX, IX, IX, I, repeating. Add filler.

III

III

III(27).XIX

III

III

III

III

III

III

III

IIIIIIII(8)X.

III

III

III(7)X.

III

IIX

IX

XXX Close with drawstring method, cutting a tail (does Not have to be super long despite the original instructions). Use your hook to pull the tail through the top loop of each remaining stitch, pulling it toward the center. When you get all the way around the circle, pull the tail to close it, then secure with a slip stitch anywhere.

Tail:

Chain 2. 4sc into the 2nd chain from the hook.

III

VI

III

VI

III

VI

VI

Back loops only if you're fancy: III

BLOIYF: III

BLOIYF: III

VIIIII(5)

VIIIIII(6)

III

III

VIII

III

III

IIIIII(6)VVV III(12)VVV. III

III. Place marker in 18th stitch for tail placement. Fasten off and cut long tail for sewing in. Add filling. Line up the markers on the tail and body and sew together.

MY simplified wing.

Chain 2. 6sc into 1st stitch.

VVV

18 rows of just plain single crochet.

5 rows with 1 decrease each.

Fasten off and leave a tail for weaving.

actually the original pattern for the wings is so obnoxiously overcomplicated and over-written I'm not even gonna write it out. sorry not sorry.

Thighs:

Chain 2. 6sc into 1st stitch.

IV

IIV

IIV

IIIV

III

III

III

IIIIV

IIIII(5)V

III

III Fasten off leaving a long tail for sewing.

Feet:

Chain 2. 6sc into 1st stitch.

III

III

III

III

III

II, Chain 5. 1sc into 2nd chain from hook. III. Repeat 3 times to make the toes. single crochet in last stitch. Fasten off, leaving long tail for sewing.

Legs:

Ch2. 6sc in 1st stitch.

Chain 5. 1sc into 2nd chain from the hook. 1sc into the next 3 chains. Slip stitch into the next sc. Repeat 3 times. Fasten off.

Beak:

Chain 2. 6sc into 1st stitch.

III

III.

Fasten off with a long tail for sewing. fill beak.

Sew the beak onto the face.

Add some white detailing to the top base of the beak for fanciness with whatever the heck a satin stitch is.

Eyes: Chain 2. 8sc into 1st chain. That's it. Fasten it off. With a little bit of white yarn, ~satin stitch~ triangle highlights into the eye. Or just change color for the last stitch around but whatevs.

Attach everything.

There you go you have a pigeon now.

[nerdyenby]

Am heavily considering writing @destinysbounty’s “if Pythor didn’t suck” au and realizing that literally only season 7 remains relatively intact

Season one’s climax is largely avoided considering Pythor’s massive involvement in the resurrection of the Great Devourer

No Great Devourer = Garmadon isn’t given the golden weapons = no megaweapon plot = no traumatic loss of childhood for lil Lloyd (at least not in the literal sense), final battle may or may not still happen but if it does Garm is throwing hands with a whole ass eight year old

Assuming the final battle still takes place, we still get the first half of season three relatively unchanged until the blackout successfully wiped out the Overlord without Pythor’s intervention, no space arc and Zane doesn’t die

Chen is most likely still doing stuff but since Zane’s still alive season 4 would look a lot different, especially considering Pythor’s role in Chen’s success

If Chen doesn’t get to pythor to complete the spell the season 4 finale would probably look very different, potentially not including Garmadon’s self sacrifice that resulted in Morro’s release. If that’s the case season 5 just straight up does not happen, possibly leading to Nya not discovering her powers until even later

If season 5’s final fight didn’t happen and Stiix isn’t destroyed then most of the setup for season 6 goes out the window, depending on how this alternate version of season 4 went it’s possible Clouse isn’t even still around at this point. This one’s more up in the air but I think there’s a considerable chance Nadakhan is never released

Pythor had absolutely nothing to do with the time twins’ return!! The ninja get to fight bad guys again lmao

No evil Pythor = no Great Devourer = no evil Harumi = no Sons of Garmadon = no resurrected Garmadon, seasons 8 and 9 are out of here lmao

Season 10 is a direct consequence of Harumi’s actions and all that followed, it too is canceled

The ninja accidentally release Aspheera as a result of not knowing what to do with themselves, in this timeline they’ve seen far less action and are used to having long stretches of time between villains, possibly even have side hussles, season 11 is gone.

Okay, season 12 might stay relatively unchanged but that’s a big maybe considering the Mechanic is responsible for the inciting incident and his origin story was a result of season 4. Things probably played out similarly for him but if they didn’t then there’s a good chance Prime Empire never got going. But even if it did, if Skybound didn’t happen then Jay didn’t find out he was adopted and may not have been able to talk down Unagami as well as he did

On the surface, season 13 is vibing BUT as of Crystallized, we know Vangelis’s actions are being funded by Harumi and the Overlord, neither of whom would be active at this time in this au. There’s a good chance he’s still a slaveowner because people like that don’t really need a reason to be fucking horrid but it’s not a given

(The Island is season 14 in my books, it’s the same length as season 10) the conflict is kicked off by Wu’s mid-life(???) crisis in season 13 which may or may not occur similarly in this universe. It’s also more than likely that the ninja never met Clutch in this au since season 11 didn’t happen. It would probably still happen but it would look very different, I’m not sure and I’ll need to rewatch to make up my mind

Assuming Nya does in fact unlock her true potential at some point and some semblance of season 14 happens, I believe Seabound is relatively unchanged. Pogchamp for season 15 being the only other survivor of this au lol

Circling back to season 8, Crystallized just straight up does not happen. Nya would presumably have still died the season prior though so in this universe season 16 can be more about that. Though, since season 11 didn’t happen meaning Aspheera isn’t around, they’d have to find another way to bring Nya back. All in all would be a very different story but one I’m very interested in seeing

When it is inevitably revealed that the Merge was caused by something the ninja did, there’s a good chance DR doesn’t happen. Until then, season 17 theoretically remains relatively unchanged (with the exception of tomorrow’s tea having never happened and Lloyd being younger than he is in canon and this closer to Arin and Sora’s age)

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 86: Soothe

Chapter 86: Soothe

Note: I have a doctor's appointment in like 3 hours. Why the hell am I still writing?! It's 6:00 a.m.!

(-~-)

It sounded like rain. The gentle pitter patter produced by the waterfall shower head that lingered above him was comforting, warm water trickling down his back as he stood with both hands braced against the back wall, his head down and his hair plastered to his face as he stood rooted to the spot with his eyes closed.

His breath was even and slow, deep and satisfactory as his mind drifted into thoughtless contemplation. Precisely where he wanted it to be for the time being. 

V swore that parts of his body still felt where the blades had pierced him. That his skin still tangled from the cold of that pool of cursed liquid. That deep within his body he could feel the renewed presence of his most powerful summon.

There was no reckoning with everything that had occurred. Too much information had been presented to him all at once. It would take time for him to process it fully, to attempt to make sense of it all. And there was no urgency to do so all at once. There was much that he knew now that would benefit him in the future, but it was not imperative that he categorized every fraction of it at his earliest convenience. Simply knowing that it existed was enough for the moment. He would simply give himself a headache trying to comprehend it all now.

Deciding that he had lingered long enough, he reached over and turned the four-pronged handle that controlled the water flow, switching it off before slowly raising his head so as to not disorient himself. He had spent the better part of the last 10 minutes simply staring down at the floor, watching the water circle the drain. After a while he'd closed his eyes and simply focused on the sound as he forced his mind to empty, to think about something other than everything that had happened in the last 48 hours.

There was no need to continue to waste Sirrus’s water. He could think elsewhere.

He had no concept of how long he'd been in there. Originally he had intended to just rinse off, but the feeling of hot water against his sore body had been far too tempting to abandon with any sense of haste. But one could only imagine that the penthouse had a very good water heater. Surely the water should have run cold by then. 

Reaching up to grasp his hair, he rang it out and took notice of the way it had grown slightly longer than he'd noticed before. Perhaps it was time for a haircut. Perhaps not. It depended more on how it looked than anything else. So long as it remained manageable, it was not a concern for the moment. 

He reached over and grabbed the towel he'd remembered to bring this time and began the task of trying himself off before heading into the bedroom and putting on a pair of pants. It was funny. He'd backed so light that he was more or less out of shirts. He'd only expected them to spend a few days there, and that had been the case, but it had been an eventful few days nonetheless.

Waking out of the bedroom into the common area he noticed the way that the curtains had been drawn in the back of the apartment. It made sense. They were supposed to be laying low, so drawing the curtains across the large half-moon windows at the back of the structure made perfect sense. But it was strange to see them closed. He felt like they'd been open since he arrived. The room didn't feel smaller, but it just felt… different.

To add to the list of strange occurrences, he couldn't help but notice that Sirrus was missing. He didn't see him anywhere. They were going to have to do something about dinner sooner or later, and he knew that his companion hadn't left the apartment to procure groceries. The implication that they needed to stay right where they were had been quite clear. He wasn't going to risk being followed so soon after escaping.

Realizing that Sirrus was probably just in his bedroom, he made his way over to the door nearest to the kitchen and knocked, waiting for a response. But instead of beckoning him inside, the door handle turned and Sirrus opened the door, a somewhat surprised look on his face. He looked almost baffled to see him standing there. 

“How are you feeling?”

“... Better. Exhausted.” The answer was earnest if not a bit simple. A small shudder overcame him as the difference in air temperature suddenly hit him. “Somehow still… cold.”

“I might have something for that. Come in.” Sirrus beckoned him into the space with a small smile. Tired as he was, he could make time for this.

It was an ample space, consisting of a darker color scheme than any other part of the house he'd been in. The back wall was nearly black, contrasted by the exposed brick with a simplistic modern gray trim that ran along the bottom of the perimeter of the room.

Once you ventured past the sort of narrow entrance to the room courtesy of the attached walk-in closet that shared a wall with the entrance, The space opened up considerably. There was a large corner window on the far right of the space that overlooked a split in the road, the curtains half drawn as a stylish lamp in the corner next to a vibrant green plant contrasted with the long butcher block desk that ran along the window’s rim. 

Interestingly, the first thing that caught his eye was the bed. It was somehow slightly larger than the one in his guest room, but the covers were the standout. Incredibly plush and glossy, The black satin duvet looked like the sort of thing you would lay on and sink into. A pile of matching black pillows lined the backboard of the bed. A backboard that was upholstered with what appeared to be a heathered material. It was slate gray and looked soft. Not one of those headboards you would give yourself a concussion on. 

It looked… comfortable. But not in a way that indicated that it was a place you retired to after a long day. No, it seemed more like the sort of space that was calm, tranquil, and intimate. Between the candles that lined The arched porthole window to one side of the slanted back wall of the bed and the gentle, deliberately dim lighting, it seemed like a space that was designed more to impart a sense of security to a guest than somewhere designed for Sirrus to sleep. And for some reason that just felt… true to him.

What was Sirrus doing in here, exactly? Certainly more than sleeping.

His attention drifted back towards the desk that spanned the entire width of the back wall of the room. A topic set several stacks of neatly folded fabrics next to what appeared to be a vintage sewing machine. In the far corner opposite where the lamp was lingered a cloth mannequin of sorts that appeared to have something fitted on it. A pattern that was being worked on. And on the back of the chair was a familiar green garment.

“I repaired your coat. The robe is a work in progress.” Sirrus said softly as he exited the walk-in closet. V hadn't noticed until then that his hair was wet. It seemed that they had both opted to take a shower, and he had caught his friend in the middle of getting dressed. His body was dry but his hair was a different story. His shirt was half-buttoned in the front, the length of his long red hair dripping droplets down his face and chest as he resolutely ignored them and focused on attempting to properly clasp the garment. Something about the sight was oddly amusing to V And he didn't have the slightest inkling why. 

Something else he took note of was the difference in his scent. It was different, but not in a way that was noticeable to anyone besides him. He wasn't using a different soap or cologne. It was simply the way he smelled in general that was different. And he couldn't explain what that difference was. It was a pleasant scent, to be sure, but how to describe it? Musky? He honestly didn't know what to call it. Or why he even noticed.

“I don't think I've ever been in your bedroom before,” V said as he looked around the space. The soft dark purple rug on the floor beneath him was undeniably plush and it felt good between his toes. The sort of fluffy, plush softness that didn't walk over with age. The fabric was so dark that he'd almost mistaken it for being black at first. Sirrus genuinely seemed to enjoy a dark moody atmosphere in his sleeping space.

A soft, bemused chuckle escaped Sirrus as he stopped buttoning his shirt to look up at V. He smirked mischievously, a devious gleam in his eyes as he gazed over at his friend.

“No. I don't think you have.” His tone was lower than it had been. The implication was obviously that of a teasing nature rather than a serious one. V wasn’t blind to the double entender. He’d made jokes of a similar nature in the past. Still, when Sirrus said it, someone who genuinely possessed such affections… There was a glimmer of something to the delivery of those words that sent a strange but genuine chill up V’s spine. One that Sirrus seemed to notice, something subtle changing in his face as he seemed to silently wonder if his half-hearted attempt at seduction had accidentally gleaned the desired result.

V flushed slightly, a sight that only made matters worse. Sirris turned his attention back towards the closet for a moment, batting his long eyelashes as he blinked and reached inside to pull out what looked to be a loose dress shirt. 

“Here. This should fit. It's always been long on me but I never bothered to take the time to hymn it.” He said nonchalantly as he handed him the dark gray garment. It was soft. Silken but not slippery. Cool to the touch and yet it breathed. He wondered what material it was but didn't ask, instead nodding and appreciating.

As expected, it did fit. V buttoned up the garment to the appropriate length, leaving the last few buttons undone on purpose to allow air to get to his neck. He wasn't the sort of person who could relax in a tightly buttoned shirt. Sirrus paused in front of him, indicating nonverbally that he wished to adjust his collar which the white-haired summoner allowed, relaxing his posture so that Sirrus had better access to his throat. Once he was done he took a step back to assess how it looked and a soft pink flush spread to his cheeks and ears, a blush that he attempted to hide by resting his chin on the back of his hand but failed.

Something -no, everything- about the way he looked in that shirt had an effect on him. The blush spread to his neck as he tentatively adjusted his own collar, breaking eye contact and looking in the direction of the narrow hallway that led to his bedroom door.

There was no playing off the effect that seeing him in that outfit had on him.

“... How does dinner sound? Are you hungry?”

It was V’s turn to be generous. He stepped closer, nodding in agreement as he did so but not bothering to answer verbally. “... How are you faring?”

Sirrus still didn't look at him fully, but he did seem to consider the question for around half a minute before responding, his tone wavering slightly. “I'm fine. Exhausted more than anything. Much like you.”

Nodding in consideration. Sirrus’s little innuendo-tinged comment has not gone unnoticed by him earlier. Neither did the blush on his face now. Perhaps it was time for a bit of fair play?

Walking just a bit closer, the space between himself and his companion narrowed to the point where it required The red-haired man to lean against the wall and turn his shoulder away from him, his eyes watching him from over his right shoulder as his hair draped in front of his face, inadvertently doing a better job of hiding the redness in his face then any deliberate action he'd picking thus far had.

“Dinner does sound nice. Yes.” As if to torment him, he spoke the words in a tone just barely above a whisper, the pitch of his voice a few octaves lower than what Sirrus was accustomed to. There was a deliberate attempt to not give into the humor of the situation from V’s point of view, especially when he saw the entirety of his friend's face turn unimaginably red. “What's on the menu?” 

But much to the surprise of the white-haired summoner, instead of continuing to be bashfully tormented, something in Sirrus’s demeanor shifted. His face remained red, but the tinge darkened as he turned and made direct eye contact with V, his eyes boring into him with an intensity that made his heart skip. He knew that Sirrus wouldn't dare touch him without his permission, but everything about the look in his eyes openly betrayed his desire to. 

It was not a threat. It was a candid display of his genuine desire. A desire he would not act upon for the knew not how such advances would be received. He didn’t want to push.

V felt every exposed inch of his body turn bright red, the hair on his arms standing up as his pulse raised. He'd never been so affected by a look. It was embarrassing, and the realization of that embarrassment made it all the more potent. Sirrus gently flicked The overturned collar of his shirt with the back of his I dex finger, the younger man's anxious fidgeting pulling it out of alignment.

V suddenly realized that he'd never truly seen Sirrus flirt before, jokingly or otherwise.

“I'm sure we'll think of something.”

(-~-)

Anyone else sweating in here holy shit. So um, these two, man… their test the water jokes are going to be the end of me. See you next Friday! Let me know what you guys think in the comments and I'll see you soon! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Bye-bye!

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

How did Yuu meet the NRC gang in the deity au?

Well, that’s an easy one. Yuu fell into one of the Stardust Pools after Grim–who tried to steal some stardust pebbles from the water and accidentally aggro’d the magic golem into chasing both of them–and wound up in the Realm of Spring!

Ya’ll should know by now that it’s not Twisted Wonderland if Grim isn’t there to help drag us into shenanigans! >vÓ

Sorry for the delayed response, but a good chunk of things have been added and changed since I first started this AU. I’m quite pleased with the direction it’s going and I look forward to seeing how it progresses!

Anyway, one new development to the story I originally had is that Yuu “inherits” a seemingly useless item (of your choice by the way; there will be eight total, but I gotta figure out what the remaining ones besides these main four are) from a supposed relative: 

A “broken” compass that won’t be balanced no matter how much someone tinkers with it, an old pendant that looks like a small mirror, a metal bracer with a notch in it with a missing gemstone, and a small crystal that seems to contain a wisp of smoke within and “hums” when held in their palm.

These items will be given to Yuu/the reader/MC under the guise of a relative by the Lost Gods watching over them from afar (I shall go into detail when I finally finish the paths for the Yuu(s), as one of the paths will have the same items just received under a different circumstance!). While they may seem old and worn out, they’re actually ancient artifacts once used by the Ancient Hero to end the Great Darkness centuries ago.

Whichever one you choose first will essentially be the “strongest value” that Yuu will continue the story with while they collect the remaining seven items (four if we add the current known Yuu’s from the manga and novel in one of the other story paths).

If you guys got Kingdom Hearts vibes from the “what will you choose?” bit, then you get a cookie!

So now you must be wondering: why am I bringing this up? Simple, my dear. Because if Yuu didn’t have one of these artifacts (which is bonded to their soul by the way and will come back like a boomerang), they likely would have already been kicked out of Riddle’s realm so they can continue their mortal existence and we wouldn’t have a story. 😂

There isn’t anyone in the deity circle (aka NRC boys) who doesn’t recognize any of these artifacts. After all, they created said artifacts themselves and witnessed the usage of them to save the balance firsthand. Is it any wonder they might want to find and keep the missing mementos of their closest and dearest friend who sacrificed their life to save theirs? Not that they’d be very successful in taking it away when it’s bound to its new master already. As for how they meet the other deities…

Well, it’s kinda hard not to be the center of their attention when you’re literally in the middle of the emergency pantheon meeting Riddle called on discovery of the artifact. ^v^;

Afterwards, though, it’s essentially up to you to decide which pantheon Yuu/the reader/MC interacts with in whichever order. You want to follow it via the game chapters? Want to go in reverse or hop around like a graceful gazelle? Go ahead! You can take your time to get to know the deities and explore the pantheons or experience shenanigans while trying to uncover the true lore behind the Great Darkness. If you wanna toss Yuu/the reader/MC into the deep end of the pool and uncover the “Overblots” cultists that want to create a new “Great Darkness” by targeting them and Grim while they scramble to find the artifacts…well, that’s up to you too!

[chevelleneech]

So Tae confimed that the travel show is a vminkook series...jimin got dragged by taekookers because it was idea and now tae said "our show"... so they dragged jm for nothing. I don't know why they didn't promote tae with jikook or maybe they will do it later. It's like the company wanted to bring hate to jimin only, convincing people that he forced jk to do the show, when in fact it's something vminkook decided together.

Until the remaining six episodes air and Tae is in all of them, I don’t see the point in whining, I’m not going to lie to you.

I genuinely do not care that Tae is in as far as we know, one or two episodes. I genuinely just don’t. I also don’t care that he says, “Our show.” because as established, Tae makes kind of odd choices concerning things dealing with JK. So until the remaining promotion starts to include Tae for the remaining episodes, and we see an episode or more of just him, of Tkk, or of Vmin, I don’t agree it is now suddenly a vminkook series.

So no offense, but please go talk about this with someone who agrees with you.

Editing to add: I just watched the video, and I still don’t think it’s an announcement of the series being about Vminkook now. It’s the Jeju portion, as the title says, so my assumption is they recorded this segment with the intent to distribute what was filmed in Jeju as a Vminkook trip.

If we get more Vminkook footage in other places, then I’ll concede, but it doesn’t seem like it means the show itself no longer is about Jikook traveling.

That said, I will agree it doesn’t make sense for them to cut V from the original promo if they planned to include the Jeju footage. Unless, since we know Jimin and JK didn’t originally plan to keep filming for AYS after the US, this was a last minute thing they circled back around to film an official Vminkook announcement for.