#» A MAN ONCE TOLD ME TO PUT ON SOME CLOTHES. SO I WORE HIS SKIN. ( CLIPS )

[agonizedembrace]

miss evelynn will remember this, @witchcraftandburialdirt

[paarthurnax59]

Little Sparrow: Chapter 6

  WARNINGS: Some swearing, brief description of childhood trauma 

Dark. Dark and cold, which is how Dracula, the lord of the undead, preferred it. The demonic prince looked out from the now abandoned Castle that once belonged to Doctor Viktor Frankenstein, who died centuries ago. Killed by a mob for robbing graves of the dead. Rumor has it among the locals, that the Doctor himself had conducted unholy experiments, making him unwelcomed in normal society.

   The people of the Transylvanian were led to believe the Castle was now haunted by the ghosts of the past. Strange events occurred when people tried to enter the castle. People disappearing as soon as they enter the castle, never to come out again. Which was the reason no human has set foot in that castle in decades. Made it the perfect place for an outpost for Dracula and his brides for the outside world. The immortal vampire prince walked around his quarters, waiting patiently for the news from his informants about the spear. It had been over a week that he sent the letter to the Order and still no word from that old bastard about the ransom. The spear for his best hunter’s freedom. While Dracula looked out the widow, he heard the door pounding. 

“Master! A letter has arrived for you!” said a raspy voice coming from the side of the thick wooden door. Dracula grinned has he looked to the door.

“Enter, Igor!” He demanded, causing the doors to burst open, revealing a short, ugly monster walked in. He sported on tattered old, tattered clothing and matted, light-blonde hair at shoulder length. On his hands he wore fingerless gloves with chipped fingernails. In his hands, was a parchment envelope with red seal in the back that held it together. The creature Igor raised his hand with the letter and handed it to his undead master. Dracula took it and opened the envelope. He scanned through the letter, reading every word as the grin on his face grew. “So, the old man had sent someone to bring the spear to me. It was about time they made the right decision. Who is it that we are expecting?” He asked looking at his hideous servant. Igor held out what looked like a photograph. Dracula took it and examined the picture. It was of a young woman with beautiful, (H/C) hair, (Skin color) and (E/c) eyes. She was gorgeous, which made the vampire smirk with glee. “So, Jinette sent this little bird to deliver the spear to me? The Order should have known that I have a weakness for fragile, little things like her. May I ask who this lovely little dove might be?” 

“Her name is (Full name). She is the ward of Cardinal Jinette Moretti, and a huntress. Our associate says that she had been gone for some time and had been living in America.” He answered making his master laugh.

“Her? A hunter? bah!! Look at her! She is far too delicate looking to be hunting such monstrous creatures. Things like her would be eaten alive. The old man must have a death wish for her.” He licked his lips as he placed the picture aside onto a table next to him. he gazed at the picture of the girl. “I trust that our informant has given us her estimated arrival?” He inquired the short hideous little man.

“Yes, they wrote that she is to arrive from Rome in a day. The letter also told us of where she will be staying at the oldest inn in the village. The Morning Dove Inn.” He answered his master.

 “Good…and how…is our guest behaving?” the lord of death asked the grotesque man who had snarl to his sneer. 

“He had finally quieted down. Fought the dwergi for a bit, but we managed to put him to sleep after giving him a good shock.” He grinned maliciously when he saw the pleased smile on his master’s face. Igor had always been a sadistic individual. He was often rejected as a child due his fascination for experimenting on dead corpses of animals. He would even torment innocent animals, just to see what happens went they were at their most vulnerable. Birds were often his favorite to torture, manly he watched to see what happened when he would cut off their wings.

   Over time, he started targeting other children and had been sent to an asylum. Everyone, even his own family felt he was too much of a danger to others. His father said to him that he no longer had a son. Years later, he escaped and hunted down his parents. He slaughtered them as they slept. He never returned to his childhood home again. More time passed and Igor found Dracula, or Dracula found him. He started to work for him and his brides, been working for him ever since. One of his main duties is to torture any prisoners that get unruly. If the payment from the vampire prince wasn’t enough, then the pleasure to torture people would be enough. Including hunters. 

“Good. Make sure to keep him in line, Igor.” Dracula ordered his head henchmen. “Also, I don’t want him to get too damaged before we have a chance to put him too good use.” 

“What of the girl?” He asked the dark Prince. “What shall we do when she arrives?” Igor looked at the vampire and see the smirk now reappear on his face. 

“Don’t worry, Igor. Hunter or not, I believe she won’t be too much of a disturbance for our plans.” He picked up a glass from the table, which contained a dark red substance and drank it slowly. Once the glass left his lips, he sighed in satisfaction. “We will wait until she arrives. We know what she looks like and where she will be staying. Send to one of our allies to keep an eye on our little bird. I need to find out more about her. I have given the cardinal clear instructions for the tradeoff. She is to come alone and when she does…I will be sinking my teeth into that lovely neck of hers.” He said as he finished to contents of his glass and set it down on the table next to the picture. “Now go, we have plans to make. Our guest of honor will be arriving soon, and I want to give her a proper Transylvanian welcome.”

....

    Yours and Carl’s plane landed within five hours after you both left Vatican City. Standing outside the small airport, the two of you finally were able to track down a cab willing to take you both to the bus station. There it will lead you to Transylvania, where you will be looking for Van Helsing. The two of you sat in the back of the car not making a sound for a while, before you decided to break the silence. You wanted some answers as to how Van Helsing could caught. 

“Carl, there is something that I had been wanting to ask.” You got straight to the point as the redhead priest looked in your direction. “I need to know…Do you have any idea on how Van Helsing was able to be captured?”

“You’re asking this now? While we are on our way to Transylvania?!” He shrieked as he looked down at you with wide. “To think that Jinette had me come with you when you didn’t even get all the information.”

“Sorry! I got caught up with everything and I just never bothered to ask. I had been through a lot in the past week and a half. I don’t need you berating me because I didn’t get all the facts before leaving!” You yelled back to defend yourself, making Carl flinch a little from your sudden outburst. 

“Hey, keep it down back there! Or I will kick you out of my cab!” shouted the middle-aged cab driver as he looked at the two in the rearview mirror with a deadly glint in his eye. Apparently, not a lot of people find that Romanians were very friendly.

“Sorry, sir.” You apologized to the man up front, and Carl said nothing as the man looked away with an annoyed huff as he looked at the road. With man now looking away from them, you lowered your voice to speak. “Anyway, you still didn’t answer my question…How did Van Helsing get captured?” You asked the man and he sighed.

“He was sent on a hunt here a few weeks ago, he decided that he wanted to go alone.”

“What? Was he suicidal or something?!” You demanded in a yell-whisper, shocked by your life-long friend had been so careless and irresponsible by breaking the one rule of the Order. Never go on a hunt alone. Ever. Had Van Helsing lost his mind since you had left? Carl then sighed heavily as he heard you get so upset over the news had broken to you. Why hadn’t Father Jinette told you about Van Helsing getting kidnapped he wondered. 

“Over the past few years, Gabriel had not been himself. He had been losing sleep and claiming that he had been having nightmares. He wouldn’t tell me specifically what he had dreams about, but I could see he was extremely affected by them.” He looked out the window, looking away from you. Your worry grew more as he spoke so solemnly about Van Helsing. “He refused to tell me everything, but I heard him one night screaming someone’s name. Father Jinette, sister Rosa and Rabbi Goldstein ran into the room to check on him that night. He was flaying and shouting out the name repeatedly. he was trapped in his own nightmare and couldn’t escape. It was like he was having a seizure, even hit Jinette once. It was terrifying.” Carl then looked back to you after, with some water threatened to fall down his face. 

     Far as long as you known him, Carl was always the person that made you laugh.  One time, as he was tutoring you in science, he had accidentally set Father Giovanni’s robe on fire. The bitter, old priest was claiming you were too much of a distraction and wasn’t paying attention when one of Carl’s Bunsen burners. Making him dance around and having Jude throw water on him. The two of you and along with the entire lab laugh their heart out that day. One way or another, Carl knew how to put a smile on your face. To see him in such a state with so much sadness was very rare. Whatever Van Helsing went through, it had rippled on to those around him. 

“Did he tell you anything?” You asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

“No. He wouldn’t say anything about it. To anyone really.” Carl admitted sighed as his eyes slowly began to dry up. “But I did see that all of it affect him throughout his day-to-day life, in his work and on hunts. Nothing truly deadly or dangerous…well, until now at least.” Carl said sadly as he took a breath. You nodded, still not quite believing that he would be so carless, but it explains how he got here. One thing still nagged at you while Carl explained, thinking maybe you can understand more of what was going on with your lifelong friend. 

“Can you tell me what name he was saying? Then name he kept on screaming in his sleep?” You pleaded quietly to the ginger haired man. He looked slowly back to your direction.

“Your name, (Name). He was saying your name.” He confessed remorsefully, causing your eyes to widen in disbelief. Did this mean Van Helsing still cared for you? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? More questions swirled in your mind as the Cab driver announced that you and Carl had arrived at the Morning Dove Inn that was out on the boarder of Wallachia and Transylvania. The inn was located 50 miles away from the village where Gabe had been seen last, called Peonari village. The two of you said nothing after the driver of the cab got all of your things to the Inn. You and Carl carried your bags and walked up to the Building. The Inn was old and seemed a little rundown. The building didn’t have a lot of windows and made the atmosphere dark and cheerless. Your guess is that they don’t get that much business around here due to it be nearly in the middle of nowhere as the high mountains surround the area. Walking up to the reception desk with following behind, you ring the bell. 

“Yes! I am coming!” Shouted the voice of a male voice coming from the back. He sounded a little irritated by how he yelled from a distance. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with black hair and brown eyes with a tall build. “Can I help you too?” He asked you both.

“Yes, we have a reservation under (Last name)?” You told him and then the grumpy man asked for your passports. After he verified your identity, he gave you the room keys. Not before he gave you a look that put you on edge. 

“You be careful around these parts, girly. Strange things have been happening in these parts lately.” He looked at you as dropped the keys into your hand. You closed your hand and gave him a leering look.

“Thanks. I will keep that in mind.” You told him and the man proceeded to tell you two where your rooms are. You brought your things up and opened the door with your room numbers.  As soon as the two of you got up, you handed Carl his key. “Meet me in my room in an hour, Carl. We need to start planning before we enact our plan.” You said before Carl went into his room.

“Of course, by the way, how are we going to go about this? Where do we start looking?” Carl questioned you as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders. 

“We are going to meet someone in town, or rather some people. The ones that were the last to see Van Helsing. I’ll tell you more when you get to my room. We need to wash up and then we can begin making connects with them.” You answered formally.  He nodded and went into his room, locking as he closed it. You went into your own and closed the door behind you. the bag fell to the floor along with the case the held the spear. You opened your bag and grabbed your hygiene products before heading to the shower.

     After you walked out of the shower, you noticed that it was already getting dark due to the room growing darker. Your curiosity ate at you and caused your feet to walk to the window to watch the sun go down. Opening the widow, you scan the scenery of the mountain terrains and saw the beautiful nature scenery. The forest the surrounded the open field was lush and green, adding a deep richness to the earth. The mountains scaled high to the clouds, tops with pure white snow. The colors of the dying daylight that reflected onto the high peaks of the mountains truly took your breath away. 

    When you lived in Kansas, you often yearned for the high mountain tops and celestial beauty that you were used to when you lived in Europe. The American Midwest, though had beauty of its own, was lacking compared to you saw now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath of the mountain fresh air. You sigh in content before you opened your eyes again. Carl was going to meet you in fifteen minutes, and you needed to get dressed. You closed your window and got out your clothes for the night. After the remaining fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and saw Carl in casual entire. 

“Come on in, Carl.” You said and gave Carl chance to enter your room. You closed the door and Carl then faced you as he stands you in the middle of your room. 

“So, we do we start? What’s the plan, (Name)?” Carl asked you as you closed the door.

“It’s getting dark, so we will have to wait until tomorrow. You know very well that these lands are infested with monsters, and we’ll be much more vulnerable if we go out now.” You explained and sat on your bed with your arms folded. “Make sure you get plenty of sleep because we are getting up early tomorrow. We don’t have a whole lot of time. We only have only a few weeks before Dracula’s deadline is up.” 

“Who are we meeting tomorrow? You mentioned that we were meeting some people that will help us finding Van Helsing?” Carl asked after you finished explaining your plan.

“The Valrious family.”

“They Valerious family? The famous monster hunting family that have been defending this entire region for over five centuries?” Carl’s eyebrow rose in shock.

“Yes, they were partnering with Van Helsing when he went missing. They are the only ones that know all the places where Van Helsing had been. They were also that last people to see him. They are our only leads to finding him.” You answered him. “Go get some sleep and tomorrow we will go down to the village.”

“Right.” Carl said as he took a deep breath. You noticed as he got agitated with every word the two of you spoke. You got up to meet him at eye level.

“What’s wrong, Carl?” You asked him with your voice laced with his concerned. 

“It’s just, I’m worried about Van Helsing. I don’t know if we will be able to find him again.” Carl shakingly said as he rubbed his hands. You have seen him do this time and again when he was worried about something. He had every right to be nervous. You were too over not being able to find Van Helsing.  For all you know, this all could be in vain. Dracula was the lord of the dead and a vampire. You don’t expect a monster like him to keep his word. However, something inside you told you to try and find him. 

“Carl.” You placed a hand on the priest with a sad smile. “We will find him. I know it seems like a slim chance at this point, but we have to try. Van Helsing is strong, and he will hold on until we get to him. I promise we will find him.” Your words seemed to ease him as he gave you a small smile. He nodded and started to leave the room after he bid you a good night. As he closed the door, now leaving you alone. You got your sleepwear together and got yourself ready for bed. 

 Watching from afar, Dracula’s head bride, Alera, eyed the girl’ window with intense curiosity. Her lord and husband was right, she was beautiful. It had almost made her snarl at the fact that Dracula had grown a little obsessed with the human female. Dracula had instructed her to keep a close eye on her when the sun was down, and give him any details about where she might be going. When the girl closed her window, she quickly made her way to the inn. Thanks to her acute hearing, she was able to hear everything about the plan to find Van Helsing. (Name) planned on seeing that wretched family, known as the Valerious family. She wanted to growl at the mere mention of the family of hunters that have killed so many of her kind for centuries. Still, Alera knew she had to stay quiet. She cannot have her cover blown over her hate filled emotions. 

    After she bid her companion good night, the woman was now left alone to sleep. When she knew (Name) were asleep, she quietly and swiftly crawled up to the window and opened it gently. Alera knew very well on how to remain as silent as the wind when entering a house. She had done it for centuries to pray on her unsuspecting victims. Suddenly, when she tried to reach the opening, her hand began to burn. She shirked in pain as she drew herself away and clutched onto her hand.

“Who’s there?!” The young woman shouted from her bed and the light in your room went back on. Alera knowing her cover had been blow, fled away from the seen before you could spot her in the night. Once she was far away from the Morning Dove Inn, Alera transformed into her demon form and fled away into the night sky. 

...

(Name)’s POV.

  As soon as you heard the ear-piercing scream, you jolted from your bed. Grabbing your gun and holy water.

“Who’s there?!” You demanded to whoever was invading your room. You looked around and noticed the window was opened. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran up to the window and locked the shutters. Not long after, Carl came bursting through the door panting like crazy.

“What happened?! Are you okay (Name)?!” Carl yelled in a panic.

“I’m fine, Carl. I believe that someone had tried to break in here.” You explained as you put your gun down on your nightstand. 

“Break in?!” He cried as you told him what had just happened. 

“Yeah, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t human.” You said as you pointed at the window. “I blessed the window frames with holy water and use ancient warding symbols that were specifically to keep vampires away. It one of the most efficient ways to keep vampires out.” You explained to the priest as looked at the now closed window. Carl then looked at the wards that surround the window in a foreign language that he had never seen before.

“Brilliant.” Carl looked at you with great astonishment at your careful preparation. “Where did you learn all this? I don’t remember the Cardinal teaching us these skills.” He asked you as he saw the 

“A man named Sam did. He is one of my best friends in the States.” You answered honestly.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, he taught me a lot during my time there. He taught me some of the most effective ways to hunt monsters that I never heard of before. I have fought a lot of vampires and werewolves in the States and Sam taught me a lot.” With your words, you face fell as you thought about Sam. It hurt to talk about your time with the Winchesters. You shook that off for now, trying to focus on what was going on in the moment. “Carl, I believe Dracula knows we are here.”

“Already? How?”

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to be more cautious. I was hoping that it would have taken time for his to catch on, but I laced these wards on my window just in case. Turns out, I was right to do so. We should do the same to yours, Carl. In case they come back.” You suggested. Soon, you grabbed all your tools and headed to Carl’s room. After drawing the sigils around his window, you bid him good night once more and headed back to your room to sleep. You had a long day ahead and you were running out of time. With Your eye lids growing heavy with sleep and let yourself succumb to the darkness. 

   Standing in the large crowd, you felt as if your ears were starting to bleed. The people were all together in a large square with hundreds of people. Young, old, men and women. All of them chanted angrily, throwing fists in the air with a violent rage. 

“He’s a fraud!”

“Hieratic!”

“Liar!”

  Shouted the angry masses as they all look up at the balcony. A man emerged, dressed in fine robes. He had a circlet crown upon his head. The mob like crowd cheered as the man appeared in front of them. You stood far back, but you were able to see enough of this man to see that he displayed a significant amount of authority. With a simply wave of his hand, the people were silent. With the wave of his other hand, another man had come forward next to him. You could barely make out his face, but you could see the silent strength that you had witnessed once before. 

“Ye has brought this man unto me not guilty of any wrongdoing!  I have examined him before ye and found no-fault with his man of which ye have accused him! Of Which I shall release him!” Said the finely clothed man and the crowd around you muttered in shock and were beginning to shout “No”.  “Then what shall I do with this man, if ye will not let me release him?!” He said pointing to the man next to him.

“Crucify him! Release Barabbas!” Shouted one of them men in fine priest robes and jewelry standing in the front of the crowd along with other men that were dressed the same. Your eyes widen in the direction of the heartless priest.

“No.” you uttered to yourself, tears now streaming down your face as you look back up to the direction of the balcony once more. 

“Would ye have me release Barabbas?! Over him?! An innocent guilty of no crime?!” He pointed back at the man in white standing by him. 

“No, please.” You quietly cried again, not wanting to see this going they way you prayed it wouldn’t. Watching the man in fine garbs take a deep sigh and then turned away from the mob. He has a servant bring out a bowl and poured water in it. The man then washed his hands in it and turn back to the people once more.

“I wash my hands of this innocent man’s blood! See to it yourselves!” He shouted and then proceeded to walked away from the crowd. The people cheered violently as you cried out the man on the balcony. 

“No! No, let him go!!” You ran to the front and try to fight your way through the crowd. As soon as you reached the front, the cheers faded away and it all went dark. 

“NO!!!”

….

Holy crap! It's been over a year since I have updated! I really hope you guys like this chapter! sorry it's not as great as others but I really appreciate your guys feedback and follow me for more!

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 25 "That Familiarity, That Femininity" on Ao3!

prompt: trying to seduce one another

summary: Sherlock knows just the trick to get John to be more open to dating men. More specifically, dating Sherlock.

T, 894 words, Getting Together. Developing Relationship, Drinking, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension

or read it on tumblr:

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Sherlock was laying on the couch, hands steepled underneath his chin. He was thinking. About John Watson – as so often. John went on many dates. He didn’t seem too happy about them. Or, yes he did, but there were never many dates with the same woman, which he then complained about until he found a new woman to go out with.

That’s when Sherlock opened his eyes widely. It was clear as water all of the sudden: John just needed to go out with a man for once. He knew John was bisexual. He never told him that, but the signs were clear. Well, and since it would take a while to find a candidate, he would gladly suggest himself.

He got up to take a shower.

He went to put on fresh clothes… Black shirt, one more button open than necessary. Tight, black trousers, the ones that flattered his arse exceptionally nicely. He styled his hair into a perfect curly mess. He put on cologne and… hesitated. He looked very masculine… maybe if he gave John something familiar – something feminine – John would more easily get over the fact that Sherlock was a man. It didn’t take long to find just what he was looking for. Sherlock smiled cheekily.

***

John was frustrated. Sexually frustrated. He loved sex, hell, he would go so far and say he needed sex. He was grumpy and agitated when he hadn’t had sex in a while. Was it a bad thing to like sex that much, need it, even? John didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. He just knew he wanted it.

So today John would go out, take Stamford with him. Wear his best smiles, use his best jokes and get laid. John nodded at himself. As good as done.

When he got home he immediately took a shower. As he walked out of the bathroom, only wearing his towels low on his hips, he noticed Sherlock was laying on the couch. He greeted him, then headed upstairs to change into better clothes.

***

Breathe in (Sherlock breathed in), breathe out (Sherlock breathed out). He didn’t know why he was freaking out, but he was. That wasn’t entirely true: He knew he was freaking out because he saw some skin. That really shouldn’t be that special. He had seen lots of skin before, lots of naked bodies even. However, Sherlock didn’t expect John to come out of the shower showing off that much of naked skin, practically radiating sexual energy at him, as if he was some kind of sex god. Sherlock groaned and sank deeper into the couch, the images rushing into his mind.

Finally he heard John coming down. He wore nothing special really. A button up, dark jeans, his best cologne.

“I am going out. I will go pick up Mike,” John declared.

Sherlock sat up. “There’s no need.”

“How do you-“ John stopped. Stared. Opened his mouth, “What happened to your lips?”

Sherlock wanted to smile, wanted to squeal and jump, when John stared at him. Eyes fixated on Sherlock’s lips. He had him. Right there, that was the familiarity, that femininity John needed. He stood up and walked over to John. “Lipstick, John. Lipstick happened to my lips,” he said. Sherlock scanned John’s face, categorised his reaction. Smirked, “You are going out with me tonight.”
John still glared at his mouth. When he finally realised he had been staring he breathed in deeply, raised his gaze to Sherlock’s eyes. And bravely, like the closeted bisexual, ex-army doctor he was asked, “Where to?”

***

Now, John was sitting at a bar, which name he had already forgotten and glared at the smear of lipstick on Sherlock’s glass. It was stupid, really. But seeing dark red lipstick on Sherlock’s face… he took another gulp from his third drink (or was it the fourth?).

He had tried to look at women, even checked out some guys, but his attention always fell back to his best friend. And that goddamn lipstick. They were talking about… he didn’t even know what. He looked down, surprised. How had his hand landed on Sherlock’s forearm? Didn’t matter. His eyes found Sherlock’s. He surprised himself, when he asked, “Do you want to dance with me?”

Sherlock’s face was full of questions for second. Then he said, “Let’s.”

So John got up, took Sherlock’ hand because hell, he was drunk and he wanted to. When they were on the dance floor John stood there for a second. Then started giggling. “Sherlock, I forgot that I have no idea how to dance!”

Sherlock stepped closer. “I’ll teach you,” his deep voice kindling something inside of John . The detective took John’s hands in his, put them on his shoulders. And as they stood there - John’s arms around Sherlock’s shoulders, the tall man’s lips dark red at John’s eye level – intoxicated as he was, he leaned in. Not to dance, no. To kiss. Immediately Sherlock responded – he stepped closer, put his hand on John’s neck, his thumb caressing the space behind his ear. The kiss was careful at first, but with every second it grew more rough. Leaving almost no room to breathe.

“I think we should take this dance lesson to Baker Street” John groaned between kisses. Sherlock, whose lipstick was now smeared, searched John’s eyes, then nodded.

It was a nice ‘dance lesson’ indeed.

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[jewbeloved]

hi hi!! your fics are great!! if you don’t wanna do this you don’t gotta ^^

kyle, kenny, heidi and tweek with an albino s/o?? only if you want to!!! :D (also this is just a question but do you do fics too?? or just headcanons?? thanks!! love your works btw :) )

🎨 anon

Kyle, Kenny, Heidi, and Tweek with a albino s/o🤍✅🎀

Note: To answer your question, I do both. But I prefer to do headcanons more often.

Warnings: none

Gender: Neutral

💚 Kyle Broflovski 🎀

Gotta be honest, nobody has seen an albino person in south park before aside from the ginger kids.

Kyle thought you were unique and interesting, you have clear pale skin and pure white hair. He wanted to know more about you.

Kyle would be glad to help buy you clothes to keep your skin protected from the sun! That is...if your skin is sensitive to the sun.

When he saw your eyes, he was flabbergasted. He never saw someone with blue, hazel, or brown eyes before (We don't talk about that time he got possessed by the Christmas spirit)

But that's only if you do have blue, hazel, or brown eyes. Man is still learning about albinism please help him out 😭😭😭😭

Cartman would say that you look like the ginger kids except you have white hair and look like a ghost.

Kyle would deck him like always, he could careless on what his s/o looks like.💚💚💚💚💚

🧡 Kenny Mccormick 🍖

Kenny thought you were a ghost when he first saw you and then apologized right afterwards for assuming.😭😭

He has also never seen an albino person before either so he is very interested in you and your appearance.

Kenny would lend you some of his parkas if you needed something to protect yourself from the sun.

He will also buy you some sunscreen, but probably only the cheap ones since he is poor. But you'd help him pay for the ones you need.

But besides that, he loves hanging out with you! He probably might play with your hair and put it into different styles (If you let him).

He didn't understand why people were weirded out by your pale skin and white hair.

He'll get more aggressive if they continue to make you feel bad about being an albino.

Being different is fine because it makes Kenny interested in you <3🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

💚 Heidi Turner 🎀

Oh my god, she absolutely loves you! and the way you dress (If you're into fashion or not).

She didn't understand why you always wore sunglasses on a sunny day until you told her that your skin is sensitive to the sun.

She'd buy you a whole pack of sunscreen and other sun protection clothing if you need them.

Although your appearance did get her attention for a min, she still saw you as a normal person to hangout with.

You both would talk for hours (If you're talkative) and she would get to know more about your albinoism.

She wouldn't admit it, but she likes holding both of your hands in hers. She likes the feeling of your soft skin <3

She is still happy to have a s/o who isn't a manipulative sociopath like her ex...💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

💛 Tweek Tweak ☕

Tweek would probably stare at you for like an hour, but he would stop once he realizes he's making you uncomfortable. Has anybody in south park ever seen an albino person before?????

If you never explained that you have albinoism he probably would have thought you were sent from the government uncover.

Like Heidi, Tweek probably likes holding both of your hands into his. It calms him down when he's having one of his constant twitches or panic attacks.

Tweek doesn't know much about albino people so he'll sit down and listen to you explaining it to him. (But he'll probably get distracted a little).

He volunteers to help pay for the clothes and accessories you need to protect yourself from the sun.

He really likes your hair so he'll probably also play with it as a stim.💛💛💛💛💛💛

I need to play some more music when I'm writing my prompts, it helps me focus.

[rogerswifesblog]

Got an ask with Its all about the

How dose sam and buck react if they met rich reader while her and steve are out casual like they were getting some snacks or casual walk low key

Awww I love this ask, thank you! So here’s a little Drabble to that^^

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Summary: Your little coffee dates gets interrupted.

Warnings: none?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Sugar!Mommy!Reader

A few weeks into your agreement and Steve felt quite happy. New clothes, a new phone and many nights he spend at your place enjoying some greasy food and your company. At first he had imagined only spending time with you when necessary, when he needed it, but now? He actually enjoyed being with you. Hence the little coffee date before his classes would start and you’d have to go to work.

You took a sip of your coffee, looking through the breakfast menu. It was Steve’s idea to come here, apparently he liked coming here quite often with his friends, especially because the prices were affordable and it was close to his campus.

Just then two men entered the café, but you didn’t give them much more attention. Having Steve in front of you was already enough for you. You may have fallen for the boy more than you should’ve, but it already happened so the least you could do now was to enjoy it.

But you did feel the eyes on you once again, making you look up. Both men looked at you and then back at Steve. It happened often. People judged you and Steve’s relationships-which wasn’t surprising. Steve was a collage student and looked like that, too. Especially when he wore the hoodie with his university logo, just like today. Sometimes you asked yourself if he did it on purpose to torture you, showing you the reminder of how much older you were, but that was of course not the idea behind it. He told you he liked the softness of it.

Besides, Steve had asked you a few times to dress a bit down when you two were out, putting away the fur coat or replacing the louboutin heels with normal heels so people wouldn’t immediately assume he’s a gold digger-but instead dressing down you bought him his own louboutin shoes and a couple dress pants. In the end you both agreed on not changing anything about the way you dressed, even when it meant people would stare. A few weeks later and you both got pretty used to it. Sometimes Steve even noticed the attention, especially when someone seemed jealous when you hold onto his arm, your red lipstick always staining his collars, neck and cheeks, the soft smiles just for him, the teasing touches so nobody notices, oh but they do…everyone can see how much you enjoy having Steve around. Even strangers see your eyes sparkling at him.

“I’m thinking about the French toast and eggs-“ “They made amazing eggs with spinach, try those”, interrupted another voice you haven’t heard before, but Steve apparently did since his cheeks turned a dark shade of red.

Smiling, you look up at the dark haired man with a man bun, right next to him a dark skinned man with a bright smile and a gap between his teeth, making him look even more sympathetic than he already seemed to be. “And you two are?”

Both men looked at Steve for a second, then back to you. “We’re Steve’s roommates-and best friends” “-probably only friends” The blue eyed interrupted his friends again, making you chuckle quietly, while you slowly slid to the side, making room for one of them next to you. Bucky immediately took the place, Sam doing the same next to Steve when he scooched over,

“Sam and Bucky, Steve told me about you two. Yet he didn’t mention your habit of interrupting other people, Bucky”, you smirked slightly, noticing rosy patches appearing on his cheeks, while both Steve and Sam grinned at that, Steve still looking a bit shy.

You smiled at Steve, raising your eyebrows lightly wanting for him to finally find his voice back, maybe even introducing you properly. He finally got the hint when you kicked his shin. “Sam, Bucky meet Y/N, my…girlfriend”, he cleared his throat, the blush that was slowly fading was now back. Up until now he had never introduced you to anyone, especially not as his girlfriend, but it felt nice. And true. He saw you as his girlfriend.

The smile on your lips widened while you looked down at the menu again. “I’ll have the eggs with spinach, then. And what would you like to have, boys?” You smiled, all men looking shocked at you-well, Sam and Bucky, Steve wasn’t fazed. He was used to you paying, that was the agreement. He wasn’t even surprised you wanted to pay for his friends either. Since the agreement had started you’ve always paid for Steve and for his groceries, which often was more than enough for all three men.

“We don’t-we just wanted to say hi-“ Sam started, but you shook your head. “I know, but you’re already here, so you can at least eat something, both of you”, with that you gave Bucky the menu, which he slowly took from your hand.

He looked at Steve for approval, which made the blond man chuckle. “She means it, really. Don’t look at me like that”, he laughed head shaking, while he leaned back.

A few minutes later a waitress took your orders, while you all made some small talk, Bucky and Sam always eying you up and down.

Of course Steve had mentioned you were ridiculously rich and a bit older, but they assumed only a few years, four or five (which probably was very stupid of them, they just never really knew how you got your money. Bucky imagined you had a rich father, the same thought occurred to Sam when he first heard about you, but now? ) They definitely saw a few gray hairs on your head, a few little wrinkles around your eyes.

But the more minutes went by, the more they realized Steve wasn’t only in for the money. They saw his eyes sparkle at you, especially when you laughed at his incredibly awful jokes or when you teased him about something. Your hand stroked over the back of his hand when he put down his hand on the table, making him smile to himself.

Bucky and Sam looked at each other for a second, before back to the lovebirds sitting next to them.

Yep, they’d definitely tease Steve about it. Totally.

Because Stevie finally found love, even when he wasn’t supposed to. But…they actually were pretty happy for him. He deserved something good after all that had happened in the last few years.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Let me know! Support your writers by reblogging and leaving feedback!

Questions? HC ideas? Drabble ideas? Thoots? (For this au or in general) -> flood my inbox!😋❤️

Series taglist: @slutforchrisjamalevans @joannaromanoff @marvel-wifey-86 @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @barnesboo1967 @sebsgirl71479 wanna be tagged? Be active (FEEDBACK AND REBLOGGING) and let me know!

❤️

[knowledgechild]

You can find him in King's Alley, London.

It's near an Inn, called The New Inn

Just look for an alleyway with a panting of the god Terminus.

He will be waiting.

This was the massage that appeared in the latest safe house they were staying. She knew to trust it, it was her uncle who send it after all. But Rose was tired, tired of running, tired of hiding, but it was the only thing to do.

After that fated Serial Convention, which they called Cereal Convention, most of the most dangerous people in the UK were looking for her and her brother Jed, so they needed to hide, lest they die and meet their aunt way too early. So Rose and her brother made their bags, put on some inconspicuous clothing, along with the ever present rain coat, and left their current safe house to try and find this King's Alley.

_________________________

As soon as they passed the so called The New Inn, the alleyways got weirder, one had the painting of a goddess, Rose didn't know which, but had the smell of roses and blood? Well, Rose didn't know, but it was a metalic smell, almost like the smell of pennies. Another one had a half wall built from roof to the ground, stopping more or less 2 metres off the ground, with a very strange symbol drawn on it. But her uncle said to find the alley with the painting of the god Terminus, whoever he was, she hoped it was written.

Almost, as if reading her mind, she saw a wall, painted in what looked like graffiti paint, but much more alive and vibrant, and under the painting it was written:

Hic Terminus tutatus est

She didn't know what it said, as she didn't speak latin, but it was written Terminus, so it was probably it.

Taking Jed's hand, Rose entered the alley, and saw a small metal plate, engraved with the alleyway's name King's Alley. So it really was the right place. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know who her uncle said was waiting, but there was nowhere else to go.

Griping her brother's hand tightly, and holding her bag even tighter, they entered the alley.

Immediately they could tell the alley was much different than the street they just came from. For once, the alley was slightly warmer than the forecast told it would be, and second, it was completely dry. Which would be weird, considering they just came from a downpour, and were thoroughly drenched, but Rose learned a long time ago not to question the weird things that happend around her. And, considering the alleyway started with the painting of a god, could she be surprised that the alley was magical in some way?

"It's dry here, why is it dry?" Her little brother asked.

"Because it has a magical barrier that doesn't allow the bad weather to enter" Said a voice from behind them.

Turning, slightly startled, Rose saw a middle-aged man, with long brown hair that was braided to the side of his head, his hair was turning white at his temples which betrayed his age, his eyes were a warm brown, kind of like the coffee that Rose liked so much, but they also had an age to them. His skin was tanned, but not the fake way, but the way that it would get after various days working under the sun, his face was wrinkled with the marks of someone who smiled a lot, and he had a slight beard, which gave him the air of a dad, not a father, a dad.

The man was tall and broad, and he wore a dark brown overcoat, that was open in the front, his shirt was white, and he wore black pants and black combat boots. He also wore a necklace, it had two letters intertwined as a pendant, E&R. Perhaps his children? He was smiling, and his hands were in his pockets, that fact made Rose be alert.

"Don't worry Endless child, I won't harm you" The man said.

"How do you know that?" Rose asked in slight trepidation.

The man smiled "Your uncle send me, I belive he said something about me in his letter?"

"The only thing uncle Dream wrote about you was 'He will be waiting'" Jed said, trying to imitate their uncles deep voice in the end.

The man snorted, and looked up, almost fond, as if he knew that was going to happen because it happend often.

"Yeah that sounds like him, great imitation kid." He said "I believe your name is Jed right? And yours is Rose" He asked looking for confirmation in each of them.

"Yes, that's us, and you are?" Rose inquired.

"Oh silly me, where are my manners? My name's Hob, I'm an old friend of your uncles" He extended his gloved hand for a handshake, which Rose took.

"That's not your real name is it?" Rose couldn't help but ask.

"Well, technically it is, I mean, it's a nickname for my name, so it is my real name" Hob? said.

"What's your name then?" Jed asked.

"It's Robert, yound Jedi"

Jed giggled at the nickname, his love for starwars shining through.

"Should you be sharing you name like this?" Rose looked around in trepidation, as if one of the killers chasing her was going to jump out of a trash can and attack them.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not in danger here" The man, Robert, said, smile a bit bigger, as if what he said was the greatest joke in the world. "But let's get out of this wind, shall we?" He pointed towards something behind Rose and Jed.

___________________________

After climbing a short set of metal stairs, they came upon a heavy door, it didn't have any visible doorknobs so Rose didn't know how they were going to open it.

"I know you're wondering, the door opens by scaning your fingerprint here" Robert said.

And sure enough, and he put his hand near the door, a small compartment opened that was ready to scan his fingerprint.

"I already put both of yours in the system so don't worry okay, and don't ask how I got them" He said, looking at us with a smirk.

After scaning his fingerprints, Robert opened the door and allowed us to enter first. The room they entered was not very big, looking like a mixture of hotel lobby and mud room in a farm house, the walls were painted a muted petroleum blue, there was a small chandelier in the ceiling emitting pale yellow light, which brought to life the paintings and decorations scattered around the room. The paintings were of very realistic scenery, like wheat fields, sunsets and starry nights, there were some decorations hanging from the ceiling, Rose recognized a whale shark and a turtle, along with a few birds she didn't know the name of. Two of the walls were covered in cabinets, hooks and shelves to put shoes on.

"Please, put your shoes on these racks, we don't want to dirty the floor, and you two can hang your rain coats in these hooks, right here" Hob said pointing towards two hooks directly on top of the shoe rack.

They did as told, and Hob directed them towards a door Rose didn't noticed was there. The door was very different from the one they entered, it was wood for once, white wood, and it had a doorknob.

"Welcome to Salus Caelum" Robert opened the door while saying it, what was it with the latin? They were in England! "The translation of the name is Safety Heaven, so you can call it that"

Leading them deeper into the next room, Rose could see six doors, three on each side, each of them had a repeated number, like 222, or 777, Rose noticed the absence of the number 6, maybe it was superstition?

Hob lead them towards a door on the right, the number on it was 333, one of the most powerful numbers. 'Uncle Dream is not playing with our safety ', Rose thought.

Robert provided a key from somewhere and opened the door to the 333 room. "You will be staying here" He said without entering. "I hope it is for your liking, Dream told me some of your favorite things so I put them here. The fridge is fully stocked and the water's already heated, the bed was made and it was fully cleaned of any dust before you came, Dream told me of your allergy Rose, the food is vegan, and the TV has any and all streaming you would like. The only thing I ask is that you guy's try not to dirty or trash this place, and please always do the dishes and make the bed." He finished, Rose was speechless.

The room, more like apartment, was huge, Rose could move freely without bumping into anything. To her left was the kitchen, It looked like a professional one, the lower cabinets were, again, petroleum blue, the upper ones were white. This color palette of white and petroleum blue appeared in the entirety of the kitchen, including in the island, with the appliances being black. It was a beautiful kitchen, with natural light pouring in from the living room. Turning, she saw the space, with a big TV, bigger than she's seen in a while, and a very comfortable looking grey couch, with a very fluffy rug in front of it. Unlike the kitchen, the colors of the living room were grey and pink. Behind the couch it was the biggest window she had ever seen, going from wall to wall, with beautiful heavy grey and transparency white curtains. The walls of the apartment were painted a very light cream color, and the floor was dark wood and heated, the floor was heated , it was very pleasant to step in, after a day of wearing boots that didn't warm much.

"Down the hall you will find one room, with a bed for both of you, and the bathroom is connected to the bedroom. The wardrobe in the room has clothes for both of you, should you wish to change" The man continued, Rose was in awe.

What was this? The couldn't afford this, how were they to pay the man's hospitality?

Almost as if reading her mind, Robert said "And don't worry about payment, it was already taken care of, Dream is a very throughout being."

"He really is." Rose said, with a small nervous laugh.

"Well, I suppose I should leave you to it, enjoy your stay and any question or requests you have, you just have to use this phone here, and it will be answered" Hob pointed towards a phone connected to the wall of the kitchen that Rose hadn't noticed.

His smiled dropped, he looked serious and said "Oh another thing, both me and Dream agree that, while your here, you should leave only if absolutely necessary okay? If you need to leave, do not leave the alley, it is protected against outside forces that wish harm to those within them, so while you're here, you are completely protected. So don't leave the boundary lines, they are both indicated with paintings of Terminus. But overall enjoy okay? You can both relax here, nothing can harm you in this place." His smile was back, although smaller than before.

"Okay, thank you very much for your help, Hob" Rose said, slightly overwhelmed.

"Enjoy you stay!" Robert said while leaving.

____________________________

Coffee was brewing, not the cheap instant "coffee" that Rose was used to buy from the store, no this was good coffee, and she couldn't have been more happy for it.

After getting used to the house, Jed immediately went to take a shower. Rose finished undoing their bags, and opening blinds so the light could pour in. Now she was in the kitchen, a plate of fresh baked cookies on top of the island. She felt really lucky, how couldn't she, her uncle made everything possible for them to survive, and now he gave them this. A safe haven.

A noise took her from her thoughts, her uncle was here. He was leaning on the wall that separated the entryway and the kitchen.

"Hi" Rose said.

"Hello, Rose Walker" Said Dream

Her uncle stood and came to her side, stopping in front of her, and leaning against the island, copying her, that was leaning against the counter.

He was a tall and lithe man-shaped being, his hair was as dark as the darkest winter night, his eyes were icy blue as he masqueraded as a human being. He was pale, not deadly sick pale, but royalty pale, like he never had to work under the sun, his face was angular, with cheekbones that could cut you. He was wearing a black overcoat with black shirt and pants, but, funnily enough, he was wearing white combat boots. The most Goth man, with capital G, she knew was wearing white. Distantly, within her mind, she couldn't help but draw the contrast between her uncle and her current host, Robert. They were the complete opposite.

"Thank you, uncle Dream, for all of this" Rose couldn't help but show him how grateful she was.

"Tis was nothing, my niece, Hob did me a favor by agreeing to house you two" Dream answered.

"Robert said he was an old friend of yours, how did you two meet?"

"We met a long time ago, longer than any human today could comprehend, and recently became acquainted again, after my unfortunate stay with the Burgess family" Her uncle explained.

"So he's supernatural too?" Rose asked before she could think about it.

"Yes, in the sense he is more supernatural than any normal human, but no at the same time" Riddles at this time? She didn't have the mental capacity to unpack all of that right now.

"Could you explain what you mean?"

"Hob is immortal, completely human, although never-dying. We met at a tavern in 1389, where he was saying he would never die, in Death and I's presence, so my sister granted him his wish of never-ending life, and we started to meet every one hundred years, in the same day, at the same tavern." Dream developed his answer.

'Who you'd want to life forever? Sounds like torture ' Rose thought "Makes sense why he would say you two were old friends than"

"Yes, it does. I hope he was nothing but welcoming?"

"I don't think that man could be anything but welcoming, but yes he was"

Dream chuckled at that, his eyes wrinkled with crow's feet, like he was expecting that answer and was delighted from it.

"I should take my leave, I came to see if everything was alright, but it is clearly more than alright" He said nodding to the cookies and Rose's freshly brewed coffee.

"Yeah, everything's fine, more than that even, Jed will be sad he missed you." Rose stood up, to get herself a mug.

"Tell him I will see him tonight"

"Of course uncle. Thank you for everything, truly, Dream"

"It was a pleasure. Take care Rose Walker, I would hate to lose my favorite niece" He said with a smirk while walking away.

"But i am your only niece!" Rose shouted after him with a smile, the only answering sound was the deep laugh of Dream of the Endless.

[keehomania]

MORE MORE MORE (더 더 더) (DRABBLE)

✧.* 16+

jungkook fell in love with korea when he was twelve years old. by eighteen, he knew he had to see it all. he wanted to see how his story would unfold. so, he took the risk and the fall. his memory was restricted to a polaroid, all the bad ones drowning in a void. he wore his smile on his face and his heart on his sleeve. he said to his father, “i wanna stay, but i have to leave.”

he loved his daddy and his love for his wife, he grew up in awe, wanting the same life. his mother was pretty, he knew that was true. how good she looked, black and blue. it was all jungkook wanted, a life of his own. a woman like her to claim his heart, so he wouldn’t spend life alone. he noticed her hands that trembled and such, how her skin was ice cold to the touch. “don't worry, you'll make do,” he had whispered. “dad's gonna take care of you.”

you met him somewhere in daegu on the thoroughfare. you saw him, the glint in his eyes and the wind in his hair. maybe it was what god had in store, a route that connected two places and more. your clothes were ripped apart, he couldn’t help but look. he wanted to help you, actually. no matter what it took. he could see it, the pistol under your belt. thought it was cute when he clutched it, damn near made his heart melt. “i’ll take you anywhere, don't run,” what what he said. you took the offer, out of luck to spend.

he asked you, “wanna see the west with me?” love was out there, and he couldn’t leave it be. he drove fast, you could feel the wind in your hair. everything was gone—every issue, the need to care. love never meant much to you, but you agreed, “sure, maybe i’ll find love, too.”

you could feel your heart beat as you made your way to seoul. maybe you were healing, you could feel it in your soul. you remembered thanking god for time well spent, with your hands pressed together, jungkook saw how much it meant. asked if you believed in christ, you told him “sometimes, i do.” his gaze grew cautious, almost iced as you asked him, “what about you?” he didn’t answer at first, his stomach tying into a knot. then, he said, “even the iron still fears the rot.”

he didn’t care much about jesus, he just wanted to find love. he knew it was up to him, not the man above. you drove to find his lover, day and night. every little diner saw you, and things just felt right. when the moments were still in motels that were cheap, it was then that you noticed something that made your heart leap. you had started to see jungkook in a different light. for the first time since you were young, he was a man who didn't bite. told you, “i haven’t left busan in a long time, but now that i’m with you, it feels like a good sign.” could've sworn god was real when he felt you—tight, welcoming and warm, too. you loved yourself for sinning, something you were used to.

maybe it was real, you wanted it to be. you took your chances and risked it for everyone to see. thinking god had your back, just had to keep your faith all along. just like mommy once said, “put your trust in god and all your burdens will be gone.” you had lived through so much, this was a chance like no other. a love that no one could give, not even your own brother.

blessed be the daughters, suffering eternal through the sins of their fathers. blessed be their whore mothers, crying and angry with bated in a motionless ferry. blessed be the children, each and every one come to know their god through some senseless act of violence that says they’ve won. blessed be you, girl, promised to him by a man who only felt hatred for you again and again. you were your father’s girl just for a while, but he left you the curse that made him hostile. the man who felt hatred must’ve been him, he had given what was taken. then again, it could’ve have been god, maybe satan. you could barely tell the difference between them, that much was blatant.

forgive me father, for i have fallen in love. it wasn’t love, it was never love. but he had stopped listening long ago, the man above. you were foolish to think he was on your side, what you should’ve done was run and hide. but it was too late, your cards were dealt, something too long has passed since you last felt.

he was cruel to you, but it was all knew. what was the worst that could happen to a girl that was already hurt? you noticed the cross on the wall with a frown, since he had turned it upside down. he was a believer, that wasn’t a lie. he loved the man who opposed the sky. maybe it wasn’t his fault, he wanted love with a golden hue, but too many times had he watched daddy beat her black and blue. i want a love like that, he thought. he would get it from you and leave you to rot.

the chamber was dirty, the world was ending, yet you seemed to be the only one fending. the cuffs were tight and your body was bare, but to him it was right, he didn’t care. he liked it when you were scared. you didn’t fear for long, to jungkook’s surprise. he had stopped seeing tears in your eyes. instead, you felt something you hadn’t in a bit. it was the feeling you felt each time you got hit.

you wanted more, everything he had to give. you wanted more, it didn’t matter if you’d live. he had all of his options and still chose you, but he was sweet in ways no one knew. when he’d kept you fed and warm overnight, even if it meant beating you black and white. he’d clean up your scar and wrap it up nice, but every gesture meant a bigger price.

you were raw, exposed, as you hung from the wall. you were broken, bleeding, because he had done it all. don’t talk to strangers or you might fall in love, that love will be there when push turns to shove. he didn’t give a damn about you, that much you knew. he wanted you to hurt for what your faith had put him through. even the iron still feared the rot, hiding from something you couldn't stop.

licking your wounds, it was all you could do. counting your blessings until he was finished with you. you counted your curses until he was done, but the list just continued on. he wanted to hurt you, he thought it was fair. he was his daddy’s boy, and you weren't going anywhere.

✧.*

[dispatchwithlove]

Hi, friend! I would love to see your take on "#12 Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss" with Jane & Garrus! <3

I'm finally answering this!! I bet you don't even remember sending this ask, lol. Thank you though, this was a fun one to write and I love getting the chance to write Jane and Garrus deep into relationship bliss. Hope you enjoy 😊

It started with a dress. 

Garrus liked when Jane wore clothes that exposed specific bits of her body. His favorites were back, throat, clavicle, waist. In that order. 

So Jane owned quite a few articles of clothing that exposed her back, large cutouts that emphasized the length of her spine, the dimples atop her flanks, the nape of her neck. He flooded affection on her when she wore them, so much that it often got them looks. 

Not that they typically cared. 

On the evening of one of the charity events Val organized, an exhibition held at the Dexiculus Museum of Arts celebrating the human form, Jane decided to have a bit of fun.

While Garrus sat at the end of her bed, she closed the closet door and put on a specific black dress. The collar of the modest sheath top rested at the base of her neck, very boring, really. The back, though, was composed of loose, separate panels that met and overlapped at her spine. Looking at it, it didn’t expose an inch of skin, but Garrus would be able to slip his hand between and beneath to warm his palm on her skin, or tickle her spine with a talon. Only someone closely examining them would notice. 

She didn’t tell him, of course. That was half the fun. Exiting the closet, she met his eye and caught his pout immediately.

“Not impressed?” she asked with a smirk, smoothing down the lace overlay on the A-line skirt that didn’t show off her ass.  

“Expect the museum to be drafty?” His ability to pull off snark and charm in the same breath was a skill. 

Or maybe she just really adored him. She gave him a sympathetic grin, imagining him melting when he discovered the little secret at her back.  

“Careful, mister, you’re acting a bit entitled,” she teased.

“I see it more like a privilege.” He rose from the bed to nuzzle her cheek, then nipped the tip of her nose. 

“Maybe if you’re good,” she pinched his mandible, “you’ll get a nice little surprise later.”

“I’m not a patient man, mela.” Face buried into the curve of her neck, Garrus wrapped his hands around her waist, subvocals rippling for her, and she was afraid later would be sooner than she’d hoped, but she covertly and tactfully patted him away.

“Come on, we’ll be late,” she said. “And the sooner we get there, the sooner you’ll get your surprise.” 

At the museum they made the rounds, talking with Castis and Cyrus (while Cyrus’s entourage of Primarch protectors watched, standing stiffer than the nearby sculptures), then Sol and Liara, then Val before she had to scurry away to greet someone important. They enjoyed some wine with Nihlus and Kasumi. 

An hour in and Garrus had come close to slipping his hand in such a way as to get a feel of her skin, but he never quite made contact. After admiring half the collection of paintings, sculptures, and photography — some bodies twisted in various stages of ecstasy, others flaunting curves and muscles in delicate or strong poses — Jane itched for her own form to be touched. 

Standing beneath Klimt’s Judith and the Head of Holofernes, stuck in Judith’s seductive gaze, Garrus once again rested his hand on Jane’s back. She’d nearly forgotten her secret when his fingertip brushed against her skin, and, finally, a sparkle lit up her spine. A quick breath lifted his chest, and he looked down at her, a gleam in his eye that said “caught you”. She told him with a simple smile that he'd discovered his surprise. 

Mandibles cocked slyly, a single talon teased her spine, whisper soft and indecently seductive in a public place. 

“Were you going to keep that hidden from me all night?” he asked, delighted thunder rolling through his voice. It sounded like a reprimand, he’d meant it to. 

That was all it took, she melted against him, hiding her ear-to-ear grin in his suit sleeve.  

A polite click behind them came from a turian, suggesting they move along, make room for someone else to view the painting; which was fair, since they weren’t even looking at it anymore.

Weaving through the crowd, Garrus’s hand stayed firm, carefully slipped beneath the delicately draping panels, pressed against her skin. 

Standing side-by-side at the feet of a ten-foot-tall sculpture, tucked into a darkened corner where an overhead light flooded from over the statue’s head to light it in a heavenly beam, Jane sighed. “Her ass is better than mine, isn’t it?”

Garrus pretended to examine the statue’s solid, curvaceous posterior. “There’s a realistic quality to it — the lifted curvature of the gluteus medius, the presence of weight in the gluteus maximus—that takes true skill and devotion to the human female form.” He turned to Jane, glanced at her backside with a quirked brow. “But I have to say I’m partial to yours.”

“I’ll pay you a hundred credits to give hers a squeeze.” 

“If I squeeze yours, would I still get the credits?”

She gave him a sultry look, parting her lips just slightly, chin tucking, a flash of heat in her eyes.

“Fine,” he said, looking like a man with suddenly weak knees, “I’ll do it for free.”

Getting exactly the reaction she expected, Jane giggled, her head rolling back as Garrus took her in his arms, guiding her body against his. Heat flushed through her. Thighs to sternum to throat. 

He slid his palm over the curve of her gluteus medius, and then gave her gluteus maximus a fleshy squeeze. 

“Stop, she said, not wanting him to listen. “Someone’ll see.”

Garrus, frustratingly and thankfully, didn’t listen, not really. He pulled her out of the warm cone of overhead light and into the darkened corner. Just as the last inch of their bodies fell into the shadow, he wrapped his hand around her nape, pulled her up on her toes, and kissed her. 

It had only been a few months since she gave him his first kiss, but he was already an expert. His flexing lips pressed to hers, his tongue snuck out to flick at her bottom lip, their warm breaths heated their mouths. His kisses were tender, bruising, and addicting. 

Shrouded in darkness, their lips moved in practiced synchronicity, murmurations delicate and devine. Their hands, though, were frantic and free, tugging at clothing, brushing favored spots. His hips, ass, keel. Her waist, back, hair. Every insistent touch was soothed by the warmth and delicateness of their lips. 

A soft moan rode a breath out of her mouth. His body pressed against hers, a weight she welcomed. Abruptly, his mouth abandoned hers and she almost cried out in protest, but his lips against her earlobe satisfied her need.   

“You’re beautiful, mela,” his words caressed her sensitive ear. He looked down at her, eyes dark with affection.  

He gave her those words so often, and yet sometimes they still caught her off guard. Still, after months together, all of his affection, all of his words and looks and touches, she couldn’t believe they were so happy. His talon brushed her cheek, and she knew she was blushing. 

Jane focused on his suit jacket, pulling at the hem and adjusting the lapel to straighten him up. It was amazing how much damage they could do in just a few seconds. 

“Can I paint you again,” he said as his talon lifted from the tip of her nose. 

Jane smiled. “Another portrait, or were you thinking something more like—” she pointed a thumb back in the direction of the erotic art. 

A little purr kicked off in his chest. She placed her palms at each side of his keel to feel it. 

“Both.” His eyes narrowed, a little mock seriousness in them. “It’s been a long time since I did nudes, though, so I’m afraid it may take a few sessions, till I get the hang of it again. Hope that won’t be a problem.” 

Before she could respond, two people meandered by. Realizing the corner was too dark and the light around the sculpture too bright for others to spot them gave Jane a little electric thrill. 

“Come on.” She took his hand. “We better get back out there before someone notices us.” 

They moved on from the dark corner and the sculpture with the amazing ass. Their next stop was a painting of a woman with full, coiled hair looking back over her shoulder, her nipped waist and wide hips gave a delicate but strong pose. The warmth in her eyes made it seem like she knew the painter intimately, or maybe an amusing secret. Maybe both.  

“Are you going to paint me like this?” Jane asked Garrus with a suggestive brow.

“No.” He paused, eyes following a figure as they walked by. “On your back,” he continued once they were gone. “Spine arched, hands in your hair. Smiling at me, just like you are now.” 

“Nude?”

His slight smile was lascivious to the core. “Of course.”

Jane’s attention only left his piercing gaze quick enough to look at the dark hallway to their left. She took his hand, pulled him past a bright “Staff Only” sign, pulled him further back to a dark spot by a closed door reading “Bathroom”, and kissed him. Less practiced this time, their mouths as frantic and desperate as their hands. 

His mouth nipping at the curve of her neck, she asked, almost breathlessly, “So the dress was a good idea?”

“Terrible.” A moan hissed past his teeth. “I want you out of it. Now.”

Jane glanced at the staff bathroom door, Garrus followed her gaze, and they smiled. 

[aquilathefighter]

Fluffbruary 24: Needle

Find all my @fluffbruary ficlets on AO3 here!

Fandom: The Sandman (2022)

Relationship: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

To put it simply, getting used to mortal clothes was a pain for Dream. For all his life, his clothes were dreamstuff, as much a part of him as any other part of his manifestation. There was no difference between the fabric of his jacket and his skin. All one unified being.

Since his retirement, he no longer has the power to summon clothes with a thought. When he first moved in with Hob, he dragged him to department store after department store, trying on itchy denim and polyester that brought him to tears in the changing room.

At first Hob didn’t understand. Why was he so upset at clothes? Hob never had any problems; anything was better than the rough materials he wore once upon a time.

When they finally arrived home, Dream explained how painful all the different fabrics and textures were to his newly human skin.

“For so long, my clothing was part of me. I find most textures… unappealing to my skin. It brings me close to…” Dream trailed off, searching his memory for the appropriate word. “Close to a meltdown, I believe.”

“Ah, I understand now. It’s a sensory issue. Come to think of it, I’ve got a colleague who’s mentioned the same type of thing. Let me shoot her a text and see if she’s got any ideas, alright?”

Dream nodded his head minutely, then buried himself in the soft blanket on their bed. Underneath, he’s cloaked in Hob’s clothes, soft and worn from years of use. The t-shirt he’s borrowed is a gaudy yellow, the smiley face screen-print virtually gone. He tore the tag out after Hob told him it was his now. It’s too big for his frame, the sleeves hitting his elbows and the hem covering most of his thighs. He prefers not to wear trousers when he can. The material irritates the sensitive skin of his legs, and they feel too restrictive on his body. It would be nice to have his own clothes, though.

Hob came back into the room, holding two cups of tea. Dream poked an arm out of the blanket, grateful to accept the beverage. Hob sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Okay, she messaged me back a list of fabrics that are generally approved for folks with your same issues. I see two options: one, we go back to the shops and look at every single tag until we find the right material, or two, we head to the fabric store, and you pick out what you like. I’ll make you some clothes. I do know how to sew, did a stint as a tailor once.”

Dream stared at Hob, deciding. The store-bought clothing would perhaps mean less labor, but more time spent out in public with loud strangers, bad music over tinny speakers, and the relentless buzz of fluorescent lighting. On the other hand, he’d have more control over the homemade clothes, no itchy tags and clothing perfectly fit to his specifications. But he doesn’t like making Hob do so much work, the man is busy enough as it is.

“I should prefer the clothing you would make me, beloved. If it is not too much.”

Hob wrapped an arm around him, squeezing Dream to his shoulder. Dream dropped his head to rest against Hob’s comforting warmth.

“Of course it’s not too much, Dream. I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to do it.” He pressed a kiss to Dream’s hair. “I want to do these things for you because I love you. I want you to have clothes that don’t make you want to put your head through a wall. And you don’t owe me anything in return, remember that.”

Dream nodded, trying to make himself believe it as hard as it is.

☆ ☆ ☆ 

They returned from the fabric store with several bags’ worth of fabric. All of it black, per Dream’s preference. They spread the cuts on the floor, sorting jersey from fleece, bamboo from linen. Piled alongside the material are skeins of yarn, lovely thin-weighted cashmere that Hob will knit into comfortable cardigans and seamless socks.

Dream has chosen several patterns that were to his preferences. Looser fits and elastic waists so he didn’t need to deal with the discomfort of buttons and zippers pressing against bare skin.

“It is a comfort that I will have much control over the fit of these garments,” Dream said when they were done organizing their haul.

“Glad to hear it, dove. I’ll have you try stuff on a bunch before it’s done. Hope that isn’t too annoying,” Hob chuckled, used to the complaints of clients.

“How could I find such a labor of love an annoyance?”

Hob blushed. “Dream, you can’t just say stuff like that. How-how am I supposed to work in these conditions,” he laughed.

“I will assure you that I will provide many breaks,” Dream said as he scooted closer to Hob on the couch. Hob relented to his advances, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Insatiable creature. I do want to get started on this tonight, so back off, foul tempter!” He nudged Dream as he hopped off the couch. “Hmm, shall we begin with this pattern?” he asked, holding up the package for a simple v neck shirt. Dream hummed in approval.

“Hop up, I gotta measure you. And be good, mister.”

Dream stood, staying still and patient as Hob manipulated the measuring tape about his body. Hob scribbled it all down in a fresh notebook that was to live next to the sewing table, which Hob had eagerly set up earlier in the day.

“All done! Why don’t you order us some take away while I get started cutting out the pattern?”

☆ ☆ ☆ 

While Dream headed down to meet the delivery driver outside, Hob began to set up the sewing machine. A fresh needle, new black thread loaded in the bobbin, the room awash in bright light so he could see in front of him. Hob had missed sewing with the machine. He would sew by hand on occasion, mending tears and quickly patching tears in his jeans, but the purr of the sewing machine was a different animal entirely. He been so excited when the first machines came out, you could make a new garment exponentially faster than ever before! People took it for granted these days. Hob preferred a simpler machine with just a few stitch settings, but still had an electric motor. He’s a man of modernity, after all.

Dream returned with the bag of food, tantalizing smells wafting through the door. Hob lifted up the presser foot and pulled the garment away from the machine, snipping the tails of thread with his tiny scissors. He held it up for Dream’s inspection.

“What do you think so far? I’ve only done one side and I’ve done the seam allowance as tiny as I can go.”

“Your skillset holds no bounds, Hob.” He gave a tiny smile, the kind that’s only for Hob’s eyes.

“High praise,” Hob grinned. “Now, what’d you get me?” He wiggles his fingers as he moves toward the table.

☆ ☆ ☆ 

Dream has become used to the rattling of the needle, up and down and up and down, interspersed by Hob humming or scolding the garment for not behaving or yelping when his thumb catches the end of a pin. The background noise is soothing as he goes about his day, reading or preparing a snack for Hob or working on his own projects. He’d expected it to be grating, like most machinery. But the sewing machine is not a screeching brake or rumbling jackhammer. It is a friend, a kindred spirit, another family member in the little home he and Hob have built for themselves. He is not jealous when it takes Hob’s attention, because Hob loves him. He is certain of this. And as his wardrobe has grown, he has felt the love in every stitch, every dart in his jackets, the neatly trimmed seams that don’t irritate his skin. Hob enjoyed creating these for him with nothing expected in return. Hob was pleased when he stopped insisting on doing something for him after every finished garment was handed over. He believed relationships were always an exchange until Hob. Until his labors of love and the friendly hum of a Singer.

[agonizedembrace]

excuse me man standing there for a moment ... covid brain be like 🧍‍♂️

[missmilkie]

hunter!Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead x fem!Reader

This is my first ever request, so I hope this is satisfactory.

Warnings: harem boy, gagging, humiliation, semi-public, handjob, blowjob, orgasm denial, spitting, nipple play, ball fondling, cumeating, pussyeating

wc: 1.3k

“I hate you, you know that?” The dark-haired man glowered down at you. You could tell he was annoyed, but you were letting your eyes glaze over his body.

Shota’s broad chest was exposed, the pale skin pebbled with goosebumps and littered with scars from being a hunter. The pants he wore hung low enough on his waist that it exposed a generous amount of his v-line and happy trail. His defined muscles were on display for your viewing pleasure.

“Hey, you’re the one who lost. It’s only fair.” A smug grin on your face as you held out your panties. The ones you were wearing not five minutes ago.

“But this is ridiculous!”

“But you agreed.”

Shota looked away, blushing and glaring at the wall. He muttered,

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing.”

“Calm down, you’ll be wearing a veil, remember?”

“Have I told you how much I hate you?”

You snickered before taking his jaw in your free hand. Squeezing his cheeks, you stuffed the underwear in his now open mouth.

“Mmph!” Shota’s eyes widened in surprise as he tasted the traces of your juices. You became serious, his instincts putting him on edge.

“Don’t you dare remove those.” Your sudden dark aura turned back to normal. “Now for the veil!”

He couldn’t meet your eyes as you positioned the accessory on him. The black mist covered his face.

“Let’s go now. We have a lot to do today.”

You had a nail appointment first thing. Instead of letting Shota sit in the waiting area, you had him stand by your chair. He was hyper aware of the looks he’d get, and you paid them no mind at all. Worst of all, he couldn’t tell you off.

“Shota, pet,” you looked up him with a patronizing smile, “would you fetch me a drink? I saw a vending machine down the corner. You know what I like.”

You could feel Shota glaring at you through the veil. He still walked out the door and down the corner nonetheless, barefoot and everything. Soon enough, you had your beverage in the hand that wasn’t getting worked on in the moment.

Your nails were long and (fav color). You would need them later.

“Come in, Shota.”

The man flinched, but walked in. You closed the door to the changing room. Your deft fingers lifted the veil to reveal his flushed face.

“You’ve been a good boy, keeping my panties in your mouth.”

Shota made a sound akin to whimpering. Shopping with you had worn him down. It would be much easier to break him now.

“What’s wrong? Nothing more to say to me? Not going to remind me how much you hate me?”

“Noh…oo wehn…” he groaned, the fabric distorting his speech.

“Then come and undress me. I don’t have all day.” You altered your position to help with his task.

Shota moaned in obedience as he rid your torso of your shirt. Then your skirt dropped to the floor. He paused while you stepped out of it, nudging it to the side with his foot. Your bare pussy was exposed to him. For the first time that day, Shota felt overdressed.

“My bra too. I have some that I need to try on.”

“Mphmm!”

Shaky fingers unhooked your last article of clothing. You could feel his sweaty hands hovering over your back.

“There we go. That’s a good boy, Shota~” you turned around and let your hand slide down his abs. He gasped at your touch. The sensation of your nails was magnetic. “And good boys get rewarded.”

“Leehs.” His pupils had dilated with lust.

You dragged your fingers down, taking his loose pants with them. He closed his eyes out of embarrassment when his hard cock sprang up.

“Look at you~” you knelt down to examine. “He’s more flushed than you.”

“MmMmph!” Shota whined as you jerked him with your manicured hand.

“Now, we are still in public. You might wanna keep it down.”

With that you spit on his dick. Once. Twice. Thrice for good measure. Some of it dripped off to the floor while you spread it along his length. You could see him trembling as your hand went up and down.

“Play with your nipples.” Shota’s eyes shot open at your sudden command. “Now.”

His twitching arms moved to bring his hands to his hard nipples. Tentatively, his fingers pinched and rolled at them. You heard him hold back a deep groan.

Deciding not to give him a break, you took him in your mouth. Your sticky hand went down further to caress his balls. That was the last straw for him.

Shota moaned loudly, his mouth wide open so that the panties fell to your shoulder.

“Well, now the whole store knows how much a slut you are. And now they’re gonna hear me punish you.”

“Punish me?!” His voice was shaky.

“You spit my panties out. I specifically told you not to remove them.”

“It was an accident, (Y/n)!”

“And there you go breaking another rule. Do you remember what you’re supposed to address me as?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very good. Now for your punishment.” You dove back down to suck his dick.

Heavy gasps and whimpers sounded from Shota as your mouth sucked him in and massaged him. It was obvious to anyone outside what was going on. And you didn’t hesitate to remind him.

When his dick starts twitching, you keep going until he’s about to cum. Then you slip off of him, keeping him from his high.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because only good boys get to cum.”

With that, you stuffed the panties back into his mouth and went to town on him.

Three more times, you denied him his orgasm. He blinked away the tears that began collecting in his eyes after the second time.

This time, when you felt him approach his high, you showed no signs of stopping. The pleasure kept building painfully until it was too much to bear. And then he was cumming hard with a loud airy moan, spurts landing all over your face, neck, and tiddies.

“Look at the mess you’ve made. Clean it up with your tongue.”

Without a word, Shota dropped to the floor to begin licking up your boobs. He moaned at the taste of himself and sucked his essence of your skin. He traveled up until he reached your face. Then he started kissing his cum off of you.

“Very good. Now, how do we thank those who make us cum?”

“Let me eat your pussy, ma’am.” He asked breathlessly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You stood up and leaned back against the wall with your legs spread.

“Eat it, Shota.”

He crawled over to kiss up your legs starting from your ankles. The further he went up, the more wet and sloppy his mouth became. His tongue flicked out to taste you at the apex of your thighs.

It wasn’t long before he was making out with your cunt. His face was sticky with your slick and his spit. Shota moaned and groaned into you, vibrating your clit. You took it all with labored breathing, but you didn’t make much noise.

Even as you felt yourself climbing to the finish line, you kept quiet. Albeit your hips grinded against his face roughly. He never stopped, only kept thanking you for letting him cum in the dressing room of the store. Your nails left angry red lines on his shoulders.

You climaxed with a deep sigh. Shota let your juices cover his chin and slide down his throat. Panting, you let him eat you through your high.

“Very good, Shota. Let’s try on the clothes now.”

Without skipping a beat, he was offering you one of the bras you had picked out. You smiled as he hooked it together in the back.

[mindlessflare]

Warning; The story contains aspects of tickling, foot worship, bondage, torture, and numerous other forms of kink play. If that is not your cup of tea, please scroll away. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story.

Tergore Mundi: Chapter 2, The Clan of Feathers

Zoe slowly began to come to. Her body ached from her thrashing from before, and her throat is a little sore from the laughter. She gently rubbed her body, still feeling the tingly after effects from the tickling, as she tried to sit up. Her vision focused as she found herself in another room. A room that looked more along the traditional japanese housing she grew up in. She noticed banners with feathers on them, and old looking tombs on the shelves in the room. She looked down at her, seeing her in new clothes, matching the aesthetic of the room, and lying on a surprisingly comfortable mat. She saw a large doorway with a curtain acting as the door, and a window directly ahead of her.

“Where…?” Zoe began to say, before she noticed a figure in the corner of the room, staring at her. She quickly darted to see the figure, and it’s another woman, like her. This figure’s skin was a deep green color, with loose looking dreadlocks and tight clothing on, with what looked like padded armor on her as well. She had her hand gripping a dagger that was latched onto her side and her toothy snarl caught Zoe’s attention as well.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the figure said, a surprisingly deep voice for a female.

Zoe sweated bullets, and swallowed hard as she answered, “N-No. How did you…?”

“Even children are told to stay away from the Giggle Weeds by the river. You caught their attention and started getting devoured by giggle bugs.” The female explained, as Zoe noticed her skin looked a bit redder, and was bandaged near some sensitive spots.

“I was being eaten?” Zoe asked, very concerned and scared.

“Not quite. They excrete a toxin that sensitizes your body, making you more susceptible to tickling.” The female explained as she stood up and slowly took her hand off her dagger. “So who are you anyways?”

“M-My name is Zoe. Where am I?” Zoe asked, quickly hugging her legs to her chest.

“You’re in Tergore Mundi.” she answered, glancing out the window.

“Tergore…? What? I’m not in Hokkaido?” Zoe asked.

“No. You’re a long way from home, little one.” The female figure responded.

“Who are you?” Zoe asked, trying to put together the situation she found herself in.

“My name is Dura Gor, of the Feather Fang Clan.” she answered.

“W-What? Feather Fang? Tergore Mundi? Tickling? What happened? Where am I? Where’s my mom and dad?” Zoe asked, frantically speaking out loud.

“Hey. Hey! Calm down…” Dura said, turning to her, “You’re alive, you’re safe. And I’ve been instructed to help you get home.”

“O-Okay…” Zoe said, as her eyes began to water. She quickly tried to wipe her tears, as she composed herself.

Dura looked to the doorway and saw a tall man walk through, wearing ceremonial robes, and carrying a large stick with a feather on the end of it. His features are more aged than Dura, clearly with more years under his belt. He wore a patch over his left eye with long grey hairs from his chin. Dura kneeled down, and nudged Zoe, informing her to do the same. Zoe quickly kneels in the same fashion as Dura.

The elderly man asked, in a elderly voice, “This…is the human?”

“Yes sir,” Dura answered, “Her name is Zoe.”

“H-Hello, sir. T-Thank you for saving me,” Zoe said, graciously.

“Hmm,” the elder stroked his beard as he stared at Zoe. Zoe’s brow sweated as she was stared down by the elder, making her a little nervous. “Where did you come from, child?”

“Uh…Earth?” Zoe said, uncertain of the question.

“She is from the nation of Hokkaido, sir.” Dura explained, making the elder think out loud once again.

“She will not be able to leave,” the elder said, worrying Zoe.

“What do you mean, sir?” Dura asked.

“If she comes from another realm, the solstice is what brought her through here, and the solstice ended last night.” the elder explained, “She is trapped here…”

“What? B-But, as lovely as your home is, I can’t stay here. I have to find a way home!” Zoe snapped, blushing after the last word exited her mouth.

The elder glared down at her, “Calm yourself, child, or you shall be punished.”

Zoe lowered her head, irritated that she was called a child again. She was 20 years old. Dura glanced between Zoe and the elder as she kept silent as well, not wanting to deal with the punishment herself.

“There is a way to return her home.” The elder said, “But the three kingdoms are not in peaceful times right now…therefore, it will be difficult to convince them…”

“What do you require, sir?” Dura asked.

“She would need to venture through the Argoros Plains, and speak with the Arachne Sisters for their pure silks. She would also need to commune with the Crepitu Badlands to speak with the chief of the Strafosag Tribe for their witchdoctor’s most powerful elixirs. Lastly, she would need to meet with the Serpent People, for a scale from their queen.” the elder explained.

“Are you sure that’s the only way, sir?” Dura asked.

“Unless she somehow found the lost orc of legend, I’d say: no.” the elder replied.

Zoe kept her head down, panicking from the elder’s list. Serpent People? She was scared of snakes, so how was she going to deal with that? And the elixirs from that Strafosag Tribe; what were they going to be like? But the Argoros Plain and the Arachne Sisters? That sounds like it would be the most dangerous. The whole thing is dangerous! It’s all crazy! Tickling, Feather Clans, and a crazy expedition to get home? How was she going to deal with this?

“Child, raise your head.” The elder ordered.

Zoe was brought back to reality and looked up at the elder, with tears in her eyes, “Y-Yes sir?”

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

Zoe nodded, “Y-Yes sir…” Zoe whimpered as she dried the tears from her eyes.

“Then we will need to do something about that, won’t we?” the elder said.

“Sir, are you suggesting…?” Dura asked

“She will be subjected to the Trial of Three. Only if she passes the three tests will she be capable of venturing out to the hefty task at hand for her to return home. Only then, will she have the confidence and the courage to move forward…” the elder says.

“W-What does that mean? What am I gonna do…?” Zoe asked, panicked.

“Bring her…” the elder ordered, as he turned to leave.

“Come on,” Dura said, lifting Zoe up and basically pushing her out the door. Zoe frantically stood to her feet, almost tripping over herself. She was escorted out of the room, and into the large central square of the small village. The huts and tents were decorated with painted tribal designs resembling a feather, and Zoe saw numerous other members of the tribe staring at her. She was brought to the center of the village and Dura tied her wrists over her head to the bar above her. Zoe squirmed as she had to stay on her tip toes to not dangle completely or fall over.

“What is this?” Zoe asked as she watched the elder call over the rest of the tribe.

“Everyone: this child is from the outer realms of our home, from a place called Earth. She has to undergo the immense task of assembling the aspects of this world in order to return home,” he said, “Dura Gor has agreed to accompany her through her journey. But she is still afraid. Hence forth, she shall endure the Trial of Three.”

After hearing the elder’s last sentence, the crowd of orcish people murmured and smiled at one another. Zoe began very nervous very fast, knowing that she wasn’t going to like this.

“Everyone, time for the Trial of Three to begin!” The Elder said proudly, as the numerous faces of the townspeople turned into grins of playful malice.

——————

So this is where the voting thing comes in. What do you think is going to happen to Zoe during the Trial of Three? Comment below.

[stesierra]

@alnaperera tagged me for Find the Word tag!

My words are: throw, major, month, and pitch.

I'm tagging @bellascarousel and @akiwitch and @aziz-reads! Your words are hunter, danger, kill and soft.

Throw (Stitches and Memories)

Far down the way, next to one of these tree-walls, two men in dark cuirasses stood along the verge. As the trio marched towards them, they spread out across the road. Antea offered them a smile and kept walking, but the hair on her neck rose. That armor looked very familiar. But surely she was wrong. They couldn't be attacked a third day in a row, a stone's throw from a soldiers' post, and why would bandits all wear the same outfit, anyway? Criminals didn't have a uniform.

Major (As Immortality Fades)

Eventually, the men stopped patting me with their cloaks, and one of them, a blond man with blue eyes, said, "Your Majesty? Are you all right?"

I stayed balanced on their knees because there was nowhere else to go. Dagmod and Eysta were shouting from the edge of the crowd. I took stock of myself. My mantle was nothing but hot char, and my hair was a foot shorter. My back was in agony, so the burn couldn't be that deep. I had seen a man burned once so badly that his skin turned white and black, and he had confided to me that he felt no pain at all anymore. And then he had died. I said, "I'll live. Thank you for coming to my aid."

The men flushed, seeming to become aware of my position in their arms. They let go of me, and the whole crowd scrunched together until there was just enough room for me to sit on my knees, although I still brushed against the men on either side. The man who had spoken said, "Your Majesty, it was our duty as your subjects to aid you. We didn't mean to push you into the fire. If we had known what that Valteifur meant to do, none of us would have stood so close."

"What did he do?" I asked, for I could not make sense of their sudden appearance. They were a strange bunch. Oh, their faces could belong to any of my subjects, bearing a mix of skin and eye and hair colors that came from Kathild being a major center of trade. They were a mixture of ages, from young to old, nothing special there. But their clothes looked decades, even centuries, out of fashion. Some of them wore light shirts and dresses better fitted to spring and summer. A few even stood clothed in a sheet alone. The men and women in spring clothes wrapped their arms around themselves and shivered against the wind. The ones dressed in sheets looked about to turn blue.

The men that had helped me exchanged glances. The second, whose hair was almost as red as Indrig's, said, "Your Majesty, he brought us back."

Month (The Halfway Revenant)

“What are you going to pay me?” the junkman asked, bumping against her table. “You want that one. Don’t you?”

She scooted her stool back. “I’ll give you a page of facts. No more, no less.” He wouldn’t remember them, not high on sooz. If he was lucky, he could read.

“Good facts?”

“Enough to buy a whole month of meals.” Or a few servings of sooz.

Pitch (Stitches and Memories)

Antea surprised herself with a laugh. "I can't believe that one of the favored can't get work."

Jedan rolled his eyes. "All right, I can, but the jobs are all excessively holy. I'm not just a collection of miraculous powers and I won't put up with being treated like one."

She rested her chin in her hand. "Why not? Sounds like fun. Show me a miracle."

He sighed nobly, but his lips twitched upward into a faint smile.

"You need to work on your martyred look," she told him.

"Martyr is one of those jobs I'm not applying for," he said with a wave of his hand. "The pay is terrible anyway."

"No, seriously, what can you do?" People revered the favored because they were the chosen of the gods and guided directly by their hands. But the favored were also held in awe because of the divine powers the gods granted them. Jedan probably had at least half a dozen magical abilities. And unlike a mage, he wouldn't need thirty years of study to learn how to use them.

"Track people if I have part of their body or something they've made. That's one."

Gods, the constables would love to have someone who could do that in their pocket. No wonder they'd tried to recruit him. His powers aroused her curiosity, but what did she have to give him? She owned hardly anything, so she handed him the dragon book and leaned towards him, propping her elbows on the table. "Can you tell where the writer of this is?"

He laughed and waggled it at her. "No. That and the age of the thing answer your question, though. In a grave."

She took it back and smoothed her hand across the battered leather cover. "It doesn't work if they're dead?"

Jedan nodded.

She had one more possession beside her blanket, dress and book. Antea's lip bled a drop of copper onto her tongue when she bit down on it. Dare she give him her father's note? Could she stand to know whether or not her father was dead? She wanted to hide in the bedroom Fenka had promised her, where the promise of answers wouldn't haunt her. Instead she reached a hand slowly into her haversack. "Would you do another one for me?"

"Sure, I love being a party trick."

She freed the letter and held it out to him. Words failed her, and her throat tightened until it hurt.

She didn't know how she looked, but his smile vanished and he sat up straight, his gaze fixed on hers. He took the paper from her fingertips. When he held it in front of his eyes for a long moment, his pupils widened, pitch-black against gold.

"The trail starts that way," he said, pointing south-west.

Nausea hit her like a club to the stomach. "The writer's alive?"

"The writer's alive."

[deityforged]

' A man once told me to put on some clothes. So I wore his skin. '

[arthaliathebronze]

The End of Q

Arthalia took a steadying breath. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. She wiped her sweaty hands on a mottled brown cloth she was sure had once been white. Once dry, she held her hands up to eye level to check for shakiness and didn’t like what she found. She balled her hands into fists.

A whimper called her attention back to the man chained to the dungeon wall behind her.

She turned sharply, eyes as grey as the steel daggers on the table beside her and just as sharp.

She forced herself to smile. A vicious, sharp toothed smile.

“Ah, Quincy. You’re awake.”

Thr man stirred, rattling his chains. He was older than she remembered, his dark hair now flecked with streaks of silver. The lines around his eyes deeper. Still handsome, still charismatic, but her stomach turned at the sight of him. A chill seized her that had nothing to do with the short silk dress she wore, nor the drafty dungeon they were in.

“A-amanda? Amelia? A…Artemis?” The bastard didn’t even remember her name. Years she spent devoted to him, years under his spell, under his sweaty lean body—

Arthalia felt sick. She shoved it down. Too deep now.

“Arthalia. My name is Arthalia, you maggot.”

He looked at her wide eyed, as though just now realizing this was not a mistake and she was not here to help.

“I— i don’t understand?” He put on his best sympathetic face. It had the opposite effect. “I thought we were friends, Arte-thalia.”

Arthalia laughed hollowly. A hysterical sound that strangled with sobs. “You don’t understand, no. You hurt me. Over and over and over. You took advantage of me, mind and body. You raped me, and then when you tired of using me, you cast me out. You isolated me and manipulated me and Light knows how many others before and after me, but you’re done. You are done hurting people, Quincy Adams.”

At first, the man called Quincy looked confused; in denial. But when her tone only hardened…he crumpled.

“Arthalia, you have to believe me. I didn’t know you didn’t like it. I thought you were into it! You always came for me.”

Arthalia’s eyes flashed gold. “NO. No, I didn’t, and even if I did, that didn’t make it okay. I couldn’t— fuck you. I’m wasting my breath.” she turned.

Evidently he thought she was leaving him there, as if this were a real prison. As if he were to serve his time and leave.

“No, no, no— Arthalia, please, let me go. I have a wife, a son now, they need me —��

When the dragon turned back around, she held a dagger in her hand. Her heart beat so loud she thought he must hear it.

Q looked momentarily relieved, as though that dagger might pick his locks— but the expression on her freckled face changed his mind. He began to beg.

An old book, bound with skin, sat upon that table. Arthalia flipped it open— she had bookmarks. Several.

Arthalia clicked her tongue, looking up from the foul tome.

“Still clothed. Mm.” She strode over to Q, doing her best to hide her shaking hands by clutching that dagger. The dragon sliced her captive’s shirt open, nicking the flesh beneath, and yanked his pants down. They were soiled— at some point, he had pissed himself. The pants fell around his ankles, which were chained to the ground. He shivered, exposed to the chill air of the dungeon.

“Arthalia, please, let me go, you’re not like this…”

Her eyes snapped up to his. She just pressed her dagger to his throat. “Shut up.”

This elicited another whimper from the man.

Arthalia hardened her heart.

She withdrew the dagger from his throat, leaving a line of blood in its stead.

The flesh tome told her where to cut. How deep, how long, to prolong his suffering. The first few cuts were sloppy, they varied in depth— it was difficult, cutting an unarmed man. More difficult than she anticipated. Especially when he screamed and jerked around. Arthalia hid her winces from him as best as she could, trying to replace them with a scowl, but she knew she couldn’t take much more of this. Ironic, that torture was painful for the torturer too. Or maybe Archelaos was right and she simply wasn’t built for this.

She abandoned the methods of the book and resolved to finish what she’d started. She wasn’t trying to get information out of him, so keeping him alive for a long time wasn’t a concern to her. Surely by now the dinner guests had heard his desperate cries, anyway. Not that any of them would save him, she knew, but she’d rather not be observed anyway.

She seized Q’s cock in her fist — too hard for pleasure — and extended her talons into his soft flesh. His scream was lost under her own as she brought the dagger down on that hateful part, severing the organ from his body.

Arthalia held it up for the rapist to see, his blood pouring down her arm, giving the appearance of a red evening glove to match her dress.

She mashed his severed penis in his tear-streaked face, then threw it on the ground at his chained feet.

“I’ve had enough.”

She turned from him, shaking drops of blood from her talons. Exchanging her dagger for a sword, she gave him the mercy she’d often wished for herself, if it could be called mercy at this point.

The blood sprayed across her new dress, creating bloody freckles overtop of her normal ones. A parody of her beauty.

She didn’t make it to the bucket before she retched, but her night wasn’t over. She waved a hand crackling with arcane over her body and cleared away the mess. A glass of water waited for her beside the torturer’s guide. She drank the water and tucked the evil book under her arm and rearranged her face into that mask of confidence.

She was almost to the door of the chamber before she paused. How could she forget!

Quincy’s head lay bloody on the stone floor. She seized it by the hair, matted with blood and gore.

“Goodbye, Q,” she sighed.

When it was all said and done…she thought she’d have more to say.

[haellen-o]

FFXIV Write Prompt #23: Suit

(still taking part in this unofficially. not adhering to any of the rules or what have you's. just here for fun because writing is a passtime i enjoy greatly)

“And you think that’s a good idea?” Haellen said softly, sipping her tea. Watching the walking hot topic that was her mother lean casually against the half-wall that separated the kitchen with a smile

“Of course sweetie! I mean look at you. You’re a beautiful woman, you’d look great in a dress!” Idreone said with a smile “Nothing too fancy. Just something that’ll compliment your frame and features” She said with a nod “Maybe a long black dress with a veil? Some good makeup to really make your face really pop” 

Haellen placed the tea cup and saucer on the table in front of her and sighed “Mother you know i hate dresses. And more to the point, you know I hate putting makeup on” She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair “This really sounds like you’re trying to get me to wear some of your old clothes and makeup more than anything” Haellen chuckled softly “I’d much prefer a nice suit. Maybe in brown…” She leaned forward ”No!. Red!” Haellen tilted her head and raised brow “Maybe blue?”

“But you’ve always looked so cute in dresses! I bet if you wore one now you’d knock everyone dead with how good you’d look!” Her mothers enthusiasm for the dress never faded. Her attempts at saving money barely subtle “And so what if i happen to have a dress that would fit that description. And just happen to have some makeup you could use”

Haellen sighed softly “It's not going to happen mother” She wasn’t annoyed, the smile on her face certainly conveyed that “I have the money to get such a thing. Don’t worry” 

“But it's better to save money don’t you think so?” The frugality of idreone never ceased, if money could be saved. It would be saved

“Mother please” Haellen laughed softly “It's my wedding, I don't mind paying some gil out of pocket for some nice clothes that I might only ever wear once. I certainly need an excuse to spend it other than ‘I needed materials’ or ‘My research demanded it’ …Besides, i have a friend who might be able to help me for very little cost”

“Oh?” Idreone raised a brow, the smell of saving coins thick in the air “Does this mysterious friend have a name?”

Haellen shook her head and cupped the saucer in her hands once more “I don’t think he’ll give family discounts” She chuckled and sipped her tea “He’s a fairly well renowned renaissance man. Business and gil are his two forté’s, and he just so happens to be one of the best weavers this side of eorzea”

Her mother gasped “You know oqu raqu!?”

“B-Bless you?” Haellen had never heard that name in all her life

“Oqu raqu! He’s a very famous tailor from ul’dah. He makes some of the finest clothing ever to grace your skin! Or so they say they’re a little too expensive for me personally” Idreone gulped her coffee down “I can’t believe you knew such a famous weaver and never told me!”

“I-I don’t” Haellen added with an awkward smile “I’ve never heard of him” She laughed softly “No his name is sig and he’s wonderful. You’d like him. He’s very pretty”

“...I’ve never heard of this man before, are you sure he’s famous and not trying to scam you?” Idreone went silent for a moment before continuing “And don’t you mean handsome?”

“No, I mean pretty. His makeup would make any woman jealous and his hair looks like it's made of silk. I’m sure he’d be delighted to help me with the wedding” As if she didn’t owe him several millions of gil from all the gifts he’s dropped on her head. What was one more favour?

“I don’t know… I’ve never heard of this fellow. And it sounds sketchy as all hells. Surely you wouldn’t let someone that close to your body?” Idreone had her doubts. Ul’dah can be an unsavoury place afterall

“Oh, hush” Haellen shook her head “You worry too much. Besides, I don't have to worry about any potential advances. He only has eyes for one tall blonde combatant” That was a revelation that still surprised her

“I mean yes but ul’dah can be dangerous” Idreone said simply “It would be easy for someone to pose as him”

Haellen smirked a little at the idea of someone trying to imitate sig. How they’d ever manage to have his build and looks combined would be worthy of commendation alone “I think he’s a little too eccentric to imitate” Haellen said with an amused smirk “Besides. He’s based out of Limsa not Ul’dah” She added with a raised finger before sipping her tea again “I think a combination of being two well known there and also being a high profile member of the maelstrom and several guilds combined would deter anyone from trying to swindle me” She nodded

Idreone wasn’t so convinced “Maybe… I’m just worried”

“It's about my injuries isn’t it?” Haellen raised a brow. The scar still fresh over her eye… And the pain in her ribs only slightly dulled

“No…” Idreone brought her mug up to her lips and looked away “Okay. Only slightly” She mumbled before sipping it

“I told you i’m fine, i’ve been fully cleared by the sharlayan medical staff to return to adventuring” Haellen held back a sigh “I’m. Fine” Fine was certainly A descriptor that could be used in a situation

“Well i’m sorry that the only correspondence i received from my daughter after months of silence was her apparently fiancé, trying to hammer our door down in the early hours of the morning, out of breath and slightly shaken telling us that you were out cold and barely responsive… I mean really you got ENGAGED without telling me or your father!?”

“It was all very sudden” Haellen said calmly “One moment we were talking. The next I was asking him to marry me” She shrugged and sipped her tea “The next i was off to save the world. Hardly time to write a letter or visit and say that i was engaged”

“Oh well at least it was you who asked him, i’m a little less upset about that now” Idreone laughed “I thought he had asked you to marry him”

Haellen laughed “Oh no it was me, my possible death certainly made me think about those things”

“Well I'm just glad you dying didn’t happen, otherwise I'd have been quite upset. I mean really could you imagine not writing to us for months and then you go and kick the bucket? I’d be so angry” Idreone had her priorities set straight. She knew what her daughter had become, and knew that no amount of worrying or pleading would stop her from putting 100% of herself into being the hero of the world… And she was proud for it. Even if it terrified her that she’d attend her funeral one day

“Honestly i was a little worried you would have chastised me for that instead of marrying without having ever met my would-be husband” Haellen laughed “How was he anyway? I heard he stayed a little while, what did you think of him?”

“Oh he was quite nice actually. Very understanding of our panic and offered to explain as much as he knew to possibly help calm our worries. Your father and I were quite surprised honestly” Idreone sipped her coffee “We expected it to be a lady friend”

Haellen burst into a coughing fit after trying to sip her tea while her mother talked “A woman!?... Whhhhhhhy?”

“Well yes! You always seemed to get along with ladies much better than any of the boys in gridania” She said simply “And all the times we’ve seen you before you were accompanied by that y’shtola lass. Or one of your other lady friends” Idreone said simply “We thought you’d have tried to court them. Or one of them would approach us as your would be suitor”

“I…” It actually made a lot of sense when haellen thought of it, whenever she visited home she did always have a lady in tow. Usually y’shtola “Well… That’s certainly an interesting thought. But no!” Haellen cleared her throat, tears in her eyes from choking on her tea “I’ve never looked at a woman like that before… Come to think of it i’ve never looked at a man like that either…” Her thoughts trailed off before she shook her head and got back on topic “Well not until nero at least”

Idreone shrugged “Well. That’s egg on my face isn’t it?” She laughed softly “Well we got off topic. So tell me” She walked over and sat on the couch opposite of haellen “What are your plans for this wedding?”

Haellen thought for a moment “Well… I think I'll find a nice suit… Its probably going to be a private affair anyway. Not at the chapel of the twelve. Somewhere we both enjoy where we can be surrounded by friends and family” She nodded “I think that would suit us well”