#➤ t h r e a d ┊ ❛ is that the wind or some furious vexation? ❜

[qvnthesia]

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window. 

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

.

to be continued...

thank you so so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, drop a comment below! 💗✨

cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

[o-sachi]

─── Sachi's Selfship Event ✦

Heya, here's my event for my 500 followers milestone. It's been fun writing my silly thoughts and sharing it on this blog. Thanks for all the support y'all have given me. But, as I've mentioned in my last post, I'll start writing on a different blog.

eermmm... update?

✦ The Event ───

Basically, you tell me about your selfship and I give you a set of headcanons based on the SFW alphabet (see content under the cut for the alphabet). For moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

For fandoms, please keep it within Blue Lock, Wind Breaker, Mashle, and Kaiju no. 8!

✦ Instructions ───

Send me an ask containing the following: your chosen character, your chosen letters, your likes & dislikes, love languages (receiving and giving), hobbies, interests, basic description of your appearance, picrews, random facts, some of your own lore about your selfship, etc. —literally everything that can help me write a more accurate set of headcanons

* Since some people might not be comfortable sharing their info, I’ll keep the asks in my inbox and tag you on your post instead. But if you’re on anon, I have no choice but to answer the ask.

✦ Rules ───

1. Do not rush me with your request. If you’ve sent me an ask, I’ve definitely read it.

2. Only one selfship per person!

3. Do not include any nsfw information in the ask that you will send me.

Note: Depending on the amount of asks I get, I might not be able to fulfill all of them. Of course, moots and followers take priority!

Fulfilled Letters !

✉️: Letter for Lumi ✉️: Letter for Candy ✉️: Letter for Amy ✉️: Letter for Rye

✉️: Letter for Maru ✉️: Letter for Chiya ✉️: Letter for Miro✉️: Letter for Jei

✉️: Letter for Mari ✉️: Letter for Luvlyycy

Check under the cut for the letters you can choose from ~

These are just general descriptions for each letter, but based on the info you'll give me, I can delve into it deeper and provide stuff beyond what is written here.

A - Affection How do they show their affection for you? Do they get bouts of cuteness aggression?

B - Best Quality What they think is/are your best quality/ies and why

C - Comfort How do they comfort you when you're sad and down?

D - Dates What kind of dates do you two like to go on? How frequent?

E - Early Relationship How did you two get together? What was it like when you were just first starting out?

F - Fights What do you usually fight over? Do you quarrel often? How do things get resolved? Who says sorry first?

G - Gifts Their favorite gift that they got from you or a gift they've given to you. Do they like receiving gifts? If so, what kinds?

H - Hugs Are they a hugger? What kinds of hugs do they prefer? What about cuddling?

I - Intimacy What makes you feel connected at a deeper level? What kind of romance do you have?

J - Jealousy How jealous are they? How do they deal with it?

K - Kisses How do they kiss you? Do they like kissing?

L - Laughter What are your inside jokes? What do you usually laugh about together? Who's funnier?

M - Memories What is your most cherished memory together?

N - Nicknames Do they like nicknames? If so, what do they like to be called or what do they call you?

O - Other People What do other people think about your relationship? (Family, friends, co-workers, etc.)

P - Patience How patient are they? Who's the more patient one between the two of you? What happens if they lose their patience?

Q - Quirks What are some quirks you adopted from each other? Or what are the quirks that only come out when you're together?

R - Rituals What are some things in your routines that you like to do together? Is it common or unusual? How frequent is it? Is it a daily, weekly, or annual thing?

S - Support How do they show their support for your hobbies and interests? How involved are they?

T - Time Apart How do you spend your time apart? Who caves first? Who handles it better?

U - Uniqueness What sets you apart from other couples?

V - Values What are your shared values?

W - Wildcard Random headcanon about your relationship

X - XOXO What are the little things that they do for you? Do you notice them or maybe they go unnoticed?

Y - Yin & Yang How do you complement each other? How do you make them a better person? Or how do you make them happier? Are you two opposites or are you more similar to each other?

Z - Zrandom (sorry ran out of ideas, forgive me) Pick a theme or any topic and I'll make a headcanon for it :)

Again, for moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

[absolem0]

. B A S I C S ∙ ✦

Name: Sol Adventus Nicknames: none Age: 26 Nameday: 7th Sun of the 3d Umbral Moon Race: Raen Au ra Gender: Male Orientation: tbd Profession: Warrior of Light

. P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S ∙ ✦

Hair: off white since the end of Shb (dark purple/blue, almost black before) Eyes: Odd eyes due to light corruption- left eye dark teal, right eye light teal. White limbal rings, white pupils. Skin: brown Tattoos/scars: light corruption marks all over, one scar down the chest on the left side Addition: Unusually long tail from birth, only got longer in Shb

. F A M I L Y ∙ ✦

Parents: Raen father from Thavnair (dead), Raen mother from Kugane (alive) Siblings: Older sister (dead), younger brother (missing) Grandparents: grandmother on mother's side, both grandparents on father's side In-laws and Other: None Pets: only his chocobo Eshu Addition: almost always accompanied by Midgarsormr (not the big one, the little one). Since EW - by blue starbird and "mount" Arion.

. S K I L L S∙ ✦

Abilities: Archer, naturally evolved into Bard. Is proficient White Mage. Over expansions gets experience (willingly or not) with other classes and can be reluctantly considered an "all rounder". Bard and White Mage being his only main jobs. Has a high affinity to wind aspected aether. Hobbies: Fishing, hunting, carpentry, poisons, aetherology.

. T R A I T S ∙ ✦

Most Positive Trait: Reliable, protective Most Negative Trait: Avoids emotional conflict (sometimes even physically)

. L I K E S ∙ ✦

Colors: Black, white, light blue, green Smells: ripe fruits, "forest" smells, the smell of "cold snowy weather in the morning", warm wood that has been on sun. Textures: cool touch of the blade of his dagger, feathers, thick but soft fabric, paper. Drinks: Tea, juice, likes trying out new (non alcoholic) drinks wherever he goes.

. O T H E R    D E T A I L S ∙ ✦

Smokes: Never tried Drinks: Prefers heavy drinks, but in measured amount. Doesn't get drunk easy, and rarely feels relaxed enough to. Drugs: Had some hand in hallucinogenic poisons, but was quickly dissuaded from venturing deeper into that territory. Mount Issuance: Eshu, grey colored chocobo. Has enough experience to help out in any battle, enjoys chasing small critters. Been Arrested: By all laws of Gridania he should have been arrested for illegal hunting, but somehow never was. And afterwards who would be arresting a Warrior of Light.

Tagged by @nights-at-crystarium :D Tagging @shirtlesslizard @ksilberne @shavothehusky if you're feeling up to it :3. And also I am tagging my every ffxiv follower who sees this post, feel free to do it!

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Mal NSFW Alphabet? O.O

Looks like the doors are opened up on these, huh?

Well, here we go...

Forewarning: this is another level lewder than Wil's one.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cuddly. Annoyingly self-satisfied.

They're definitely gonna check in on their partner while couching it in a tease.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mal's a little indifferent to their own body. They can switch things around. Their partner? Depends which part makes them squirm the most.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It's fun when things get sticky ;)

(the cleanup is not so fun. but at least it was a good time)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has definitely boned in some places that one probably should not, including at least once somebody else's bed. Like, not on purpose per se. but you know. heat of the moment.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Most experienced in the cast. They strike out a lot, but hey, if you don't shoot your shot, then you don't know.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Bending over their partner, pressing their front into their partner's back, a hand between their partner's legs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

0% serious. They're gonna fool around, and their partner's gotta come prepared for that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Depends on their mood ;)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not especially lovey-dovey but they're used to hook-ups so they only warm into being intimate over time and once they know their partner wants that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ehhh they will but it's usually more fun for them with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

"I wonder if I can make them cum in their pants..."

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom is usually best. Look, the floor might be fun in theory, but your knees are gonna start feeling real rough on the hardwood after a minute or two.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Being with somebody they like. A partner who talks/emotes during the act. Not taking things too seriously. Turning the table/getting it turned on them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Very picky about what they'll do with their power before the deed and a fairly hard no about during.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Would rather give than receive, and knows what they're doing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very fast when excited, obnoxiously slow if they think they can wind up their partner.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

They don't mind experimenting at all, variety is the spice of life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Their biology is a bit of a cheat code here. They've been known to go off real fast if they're particularly horny, but they're usually good to go again before too long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They have a couple, but they like body on body better.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

OFF THE CHARTS.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They talk a lot during sex. Like a lot a lot.

Mal: Oh? Why don't you try shutting me up?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dion's accidentally walked in on them more than once and they find it excruciatingly embarrassing and feel deeply apologetic for it

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Psssh. Wouldn't you like to know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Literally has the highest libido of the entire cast.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If permitted to cuddle, they'll start get snoozy before too too long.

[willtheweaver]

Alpha-write

Thanks @agirlandherquill this sure does look interesting

Rules: For every letter of the alphabet, comprise a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

A- “All systems go. Let’s she what this new ship can do.”

B- Barely anything was standing on the planet’s surface. All around were huge craters and mountains of crumbled rock and dust. What water there was was as corrosive as hydrochloric acid. What kind of weapons could do this, and what kind of people would turn such tools of death on themselves?

C- Candles, beeswax, 50 count, the label said. So why was the box so heavy?

D- “Don’t move!” I stopped when I heard those words. Fearfully, I looked down at feet. One of them was right on top of a rune trap that was concealed in the leaf litter.

E- Everywhere was the sickly sweet smell of death.

F- Faith shall ne’re forsake me, when iron proves as feeble as flesh.

G- “Goblins can’t resist shiny stuff, you said!”

“Well if you weren’t a cheapskate and put some of your jewelry in the trap, we would have caught him!”

H- “Hake, extra crispy. Chips with salt and vinegar, extra curry sauce on the side. What does it all mean?”

“I believe that is his Friday takeaway order.”

I- Inside was totally different. Whereas the exterior was a grey and austere cube, the interior of the building was bright and decorated to the point of being gaudy and over the top.

J- Just lost contact with the rearguard. Radar has picked something up. It’s—[remainder of transmission incomprehensible] /end recording.

K- Kelp! If I could just make it…

L- “Ladies and gentlemen, remain cool, this is a robbery! Handover all of your valuables and no one—hey! You with the Nickleback shirt! That is not cool!”

M- “Must I remind you that it was your idea to drill holes in the bottom of the ship?”

N- “No man is more accursed than he who violates the sacred law of hospitality.”

O- “Open the door!”

“No.”

P- “Purple was never my color anyways.”

Q- Quiet. No wind, no sound of birds. Nothing.

R- Rust covered the steel beams and rebar sticking out of the cracking and failing concrete.

S- “Single malt, aged twelve years, heavy smoke with hints of seaweed. This was distilled in Islay.”

T- The order came up. Three shots espresso, ten ounces 2% steamed for exactly eighteen seconds, one pump vanilla, three caramel, one chocolate hazelnut, and the foam has to be cold and not mix with the coffee. WTF!?? I wanted to quit them and now.

U- Union pamphlets were everywhere. No doubt about it. Their meeting place had been found.

V- “Velocity is still over 5000 kph! We’ll burn up in the atmosphere unless we find some way of slowing down!”

W- “We’re with Witness Protection. You are in grave danger.”

“Me? I’m just an ordinary person!”

X- “X-rays can’t go through lead!”

Y- “You had to say something, didn’t you?!”

Z- Zzzzzzzzzzz.

“How can anyone sleep so soundly in a time like this??”

Whew! Made it through that one!

Tagging @diabolical-blue @darkandstormydolls @leahnardo-da-veggie @poethill @honeybewrites

@theeccentricraven @splashinkling @smudged-red-ink @mysticstarlightduck @eccaiia

@corinneglass @tildeathiwillwrite @fortunatetragedy and open tag

[pillowtalk65]

Brett hand SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Oh definitely pda to the max. This man is all over you any chance he gets. He is so madly in love. His favorite way to show affection is through cheek/forehead kisses. He loves to pepper your face in them!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think he’d fall first, but through you guys becoming best friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Little spoon through and through. My man has never been held once in his life and loves for you to hold him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

House husband fs. He wants a big family and to live in a suburban house. Amazing at cooking. Like, amazing.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d be the one crying, not you. He’d feel so bad over it and would just sob his eyes out to you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

LOVES COMMITMENT!! He’s so excited to get married to you. my guys has a whole Pinterest board made for it

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

So so gentle. He wants you to the feel the love and care he always wished he had growing up

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes, loves hugs so much. Squeezes you to death

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I don’t think he’ll say it right away. He was never told it as a kid and wants it to really mean something. Once he says it he’ll say it all the time after

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I think he can be very clingy and very jealous. Not like, in a bad way, more a whiny jealous way. He’ll become super clingy

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He loves giving butterfly kisses over your face. He saw it once in a rom-com and fell inlove with it immediately

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He LOVES kids. He wants to start a big family of his own.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Wakes you up with making breakfast. Lots of ‘I love yous’ and soft kisses

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He likes winding down with an 80’s movie

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’ll randomly say things about his childhood truama that he doesn’t even realize we’re bad. Other than that he’s open to talk about himself and share more. Not a fan about talking about his childhood growing up

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not easily at all! He’s an angel

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has a notes page dedicated to everything about you. He forgets nothing

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I hc Brett to love marvel (Spider-Man) and made you guys do the Spider-Man kiss. He took you to s play ground to hang upside down on the bars and you guys shared a sweet kiss.

(Brett ended up falling and breaking his wrist)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s not over protective but he will punch someone for you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He tries so so hard. He feels so much love towards you and want you to know that.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Can’t kill bugs

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn’t at all! It’s all in the personality to him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

For sure will feel incomplete. You are his everything to him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I bet he has funny cat sock impressions

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He seems like the type to hate broccoli

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

My guy either curls up or sprawls in the middle of the night. He loves to be held or to hold something. Snores a lot

[falling-heights]

☆ Arthur Morgan ☆ -  I gave you all

Pt. 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“E v e r y t h i n g,   i n   t i m e--

a l w a y s   d y i n g,   n e v e r   d e a d”

“Leave us," Arthur removed the sweat-stained rag, allowing it to hang from his neck. The vision of a once angelic face, now burdened with sun-aged skin was revealed. As Sean passed him by, he grabbed his arm. He whispered a slew of words, too faint to understand.

"What do you plan on doing?" Arthur only released his grip, and began to unfasten the buttons of his gloves. "Come on, Arthur. I at least deserve to know what you're gonna do with her."

"Just resolving unfinished business," From his coat pocket, he retrieved a cigarette and a lone match. He struck the head against his belt, and you watched the fire illuminate his face. 

His eyes had finally gone cold. The little body of fire reflected in his hollowed eyes, surrounding the orange glow with a halo of lurid blue. Hands idly lighting the cigarette and shielding the flame from wind, he stared into you with that sickening gaze.

Sean obeyed without contest. He waited, staring off into the tree line as his men retreated. You watched the Irishman's shadows slowly disappear. And then, just two remained in the forest. The woods, you realized, would be your only witness to what would happen now.

He dragged a long breath from his chest. Embers burned along the end of the cigarette, illuminating his face dimly in the stark night air. He thought for a moment, taking his eyes off of you, until, after taking another drag of his cigarette, he snickered at some strange thought. You always hated when he smoked.

"Not how you expected your night to go, is it, Junebug?" Eventually, once ridden down to a nub, he finished his smoke and crushed it underneath his boots. Once the embers had died and gone dim, his attention shot to you again.

You couldn't say it didn't hurt. Seeing him now, the lack of warmth in his eyes, a sight you still missed despite having such a soiled history.

"Shit, I almost feel bad for you," His ungloved hand reached out, first to run through loose strands of hair that hung over your face. There was something strange about his touch. It was something you'd heard once, that the body can only remember another person's touch for about a year before it forgets the feeling. But this man, it was like the way he felt would remain seared in your mind for lifetimes beyond your own. He was strangely gentle as he cleared away your face. Uncertain and profoundly confused, you did nothing in the moment to stop him, though you couldn't understand his motives.

One hand drifted to your chin, lifting your head just enough to be constraining. You found yourself struggling to calm your breath. Years of distress began to resurface, bubbling in your chest and causing a meek display of terror-induced tears that ran down your face in quick and silent, hot streams. There was some quiet sort of rage, the rekindling of some deep buried emotions that were beginning to resurface in his eyes. The softness of his touch was spoiled by the violence that was written in his gaze.

Nothing could nave truly been worse than this. not only to be at your knees in front of this man, but being so helpless to the sense of grief that consumed you now. How weak you must have looked now, how strange for such a creature as you. A murderer, and thief, and now, in this man's eyes, a traitor. But it was helplessness that left you sniveling at the feet of your enemy.

"But seeing you like this, well..." He dropped your head, his actions vacant of all the gentility that was used just moments before. Another laugh left him, this time pointed directly at you. "It'd be sad if it weren't so fitting."

Nothing was more unnerving than what ideas might be concocting in his head. What would he do, then?

Arthur decidedly pulled out a white, pearl-lined revolver. You knew it well. It had been a gift, after all. And it seemed fitting. That something given should be the same to take. He stared at it for a while. The weapon must have been something of a sentimental token once. Perhaps, it still was. After all, he’s kept it all these years.

"Sometimes, I get to thinking, nights when I can't sleep and nobody's around to hear my thoughts..." He counted bullets within the gun's wheel, then rolled it back into place. His thumb rested on the gun's hammer, but he waited, allowing the sight to settle in your mind. "About seeing you again, some day. A few months after, when your absence was still fresh in everyone's mind, I almost thought about going out to find you myself. For… a long while, nothing seemed better to me than the idea of putting a bullet right here."

Lightly, the barrel of the gun pressed itself in the middle of your head. It seemed, that such a violent fantasy still lingered along his fingertips. They twitched with excitement. He held it there, something toying with his mind. He stared placidly. Though his face bore a numb manner, you knew the sadistic visions that played feverishly in his head. His mind was like a rabid dog in a cage. It was like watching the approach of a hurricane through a large glass window, waiting for the illusion of safety to break.

"But, since you’re here now, you know that didn't happen." He raised the revolver away, however it remained held with a stressed hold. "But things just work like that, I guess. Makes all those years of hiding and running pointless, doesn't it?"

"And now, you're here, just wasting my time," He waved the gun in your direction, and he stepped away for a moment. His voice was shaken, tense, filled with a rage he must have been suppressing for years, waiting for the day that it could finally be let out. He spoke his next words lowly, in a gruff, sort of apathetic tone. "What do you think will happen now?" 

"I suppose you'll kill me." The fear for your life was instinctual. Really, you should have died long ago. You, for longer than you'd known, resembled something more of a walking corpse. Something that thought, by lying to itself about what it was, could convince itself it was something else.

"What I do doesn't really make a difference anymore, does it?" He was right. The growing concern of blood loss was leaving you vulnerable. It was apparent now that if you were left untreated for more than a few hours, the possibilities would narrow to one singular decision. "Now, I could just wait. Let time will finish the job for me."

"Why didn't you?" He sat against a nearby trunk and removed his hat. His hair was deeply disheveled, matted to his head from a day's worth of sweat. It was just as easily rejuvenated when he ran a hand through it a few times, revealing thick layers of hair. The gun was set to the ground beside his thigh.

"How do you mean?"

"You could have found me easily. So, why not?" A small, patient smile graced his lips.

"I don't know, Junebug." Hearing that name, though it hurt the first time, hurt worse the second. Knowing how sentimental it had been once, and then hearing it now. Such a stark contrast. "I just kept thinking karma might deal with you on my behalf. Or, maybe a little speck of something thought that maybe I'd see you again. Not like this, but-- well, doesn't matter now, anyways." 

"So, what are you waiting on now?" 

Sitting there, his eyes never left you. His expression never changed; his grimace remained steady. It was almost as though he hadn’t heard you, but you knew he was thinking. 

"A reason, maybe.”

“For why I left?” You. The answer was obvious, but he seemed inept to it. 

He opted to remain silent, staring expectantly at you. Of course. 

With eyes idly looking downward to the side, your mind lulled to memories you had not wished to relive. A grimace of a dull ire echoed behind your gaze, and haunted your visage. 

It was clear he was opting to buy himself more time, a longer chance to consider what he would do now. Perhaps, in his mind, he imagined that he was being merciful. To him, this was your chance to convince him not to kill you. 

And if you had any of the slightest intentions to survive this night, you would have to play along. 

[elizabethrobertajones]

Frog Time

I'm so bad at tagging people so consider yourself tagged if you want to be :)

B A S I C S

Name: Bounding Frog (redacted roe language name because I forgor)

Nicknames: Frog

Age: 18-22 (ARR-EW)

Nameday: 23rd Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: Bi

Profession: She has a summer job working with the hippo riders, although that doesn't pay as well as adventuring, so she's looking forward to Dawntrail and doing more than delivery runs.

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: maroon and light pink

Eyes: maroon and light pink

Skin: brown

Tattoos/scars: I headcanon the single choice of tattoos per face for roes are meaningful somehow - I chose coming of age, getting her Adventurer Name, and leaving home, so those were fresh porple swoops over her cheekbones in ARR :D I've only known her as long as she's been Frog and looked like this.

The scar on her nose is from being underhand punted like a rugby ball by an older brother back when she was an orb shaped child. Since adventuring the regular healing has stopped her getting too scarred up from any misadventures.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Notable members of their remote mountain community, maintaining an important set of Arcanima wards around an aetherically dangerous geological fault. Of course, they're good at their jobs so this wasn't very scary as an upbringing. They're a lovely couple and make a hell of a bowl of soup. All else I know about them is they're very supportive and Frog writes to them regularly.

Siblings: like six rowdy older brothers. She was very spoiled by this squad of bodyguards tbh. (Ignore the previous comment about one of them maiming her, they DO love her even if they saw her as a cannonball under other circumstances.) A couple of them left to be mercenaries, uncertain if for Garlemald - they don't write home as thoroughly.

Grandparents: Probably, tbh. We're getting out of my limited perception of Hellguard culture and history but I think I can say the remoteness of their village is an excuse for nothing too terrible to have happened to any of them :P

In-laws and other: She was sort of starting to think of Edmont as a potential in-law and he began acting like it after Events so she's acquired some without marrying. He DID also adopt Aymeric informally, so now she's courting him it's coming back around!

Pets: Multiple, even not counting animal sanctuary beasties. Some she drops by to visit where they're being looked after once she'd raised them or sheltered them for a while (the baby hippo was donated to the hippo riders thankfully before he got too large and hungry for example). Others live at the free company house getting spoiled by the staff. The free company is named after the baby tapir who is the best and cutest. :)

S K I L L S

Abilities: In character, she has yet to find something she isn't good at after a couple of false starts. (ooc is much more of a mess depending on my ability) As an all-jobs all-crafts all-gatherers weirdo she's genuinely alarming to contemplate.

Hobbies: crafting/gathering/fishing is more of a wind down respite than a career calling for her. Canonically she's finished the fishing log... ooc I haven't by a long shot :P She also loves visiting bars and pubs across the world that she's visited to drop in on old friends, or go on foodie tours of places she's liberated. They stole G'raha being a foodie traveller in the dawntrail trailer from her actually.

Kinda always wanted to do a in character review of all the drinking establishments in game.

T R A I T S

Most positive trait: determination and everything that went into being strong enough to do the end walk, which did feel like a culmination of all the positive things they ascribe to the WoL. Since she's living the life of box art Meteor with no plot deviations or alterations except what I can put into the downtime and spaces between cutscenes, I can't argue with times when they REALLY show the admirable heart of the WoL.

Most negative trait: She's not going to say no, so if you need a favour just stand near where she wanders by routinely and look forlorn and you WILL get helped to within an inch of your life.

L I K E S

Colors: royal purple, dark reds and deep blues

Smells: fresh baked anything. Probably also the fresh morning smell when she gets up at ass o'clock to do stretches or whatever gross things morning people do.

Textures: G'raha ears >:)

Drinks: black coffee, red wine, milky tea

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: tried it with the Vath and hated it. Still has no idea if Fogweed is a drug or not.

Drinks: socially and merrily with a bottomless liver.

Drugs: nothing harder than caffeine and alcohol.

Mount Issuance: her sweet blue chocobo is called Turbulence and threw off everyone who attempted to ride him before that.

Been Arrested: not outside MSQ run ins with the law

[sprinklepartyfall]

So, in light of this, and finding out Bloodmoon died apparently, the brainrot began, enjoy.

@o-i-w-u pspspspsps-

The trick board.

(Spirit/Monster?) Bloodmoon twins x Reader

[Insignificant Warnings: This is medium-long in length, I did not proofread this, it basically gets cut off as a cliffhanger at the end.]

In a far off timeline, the world was shattered. Chaos from the breakdown of the leaders and the cowardly actions of the followers. Luckily, you never liked people, so you were already pretty skilled at avoiding them, yay anti-social behavior-!

As a lone survivor, you learned pretty fast that most easy things were probably a trap made by other survivors. You had been currently walking around a store, sneaking around the people already there to grab supplies and go. That was before you heard them... talking to themselves? To air maybe?

Once you got a closer look, it seemed they'd been trying to use an ouija board... how someone could find one was a mystery, and why they would keep it was beyond you. But it was funny that they tried, and quite clearly failed to talk to whatever ghost or demon they were trying to find.

You stuck around, mostly since they were arguing and, well, it was over something stupid and you needed entertainment. That was when you got one idea, it only seemed to be three people... so you stole the ouija board while they were distracted, causing quite the fright when they noticed. Chaos was one thing that would never leave the broken world you lived in, and that was somehow a small comfort for you.

You'd left the building, walking through the shadows with your newly acquired item as the yelling of panic fades behind you. Was it mean? Yes. But was it funny? Hell yeah. The board, along with its little planchette, was under your arm.

You walked to an abandoned park nearby, climbing up a tree burgrudgingly so you wouldn't be spotted, and set the board down. You didn't expect it to work, so you didn't bother trying, unlike the probable ghost that made it quite clear it wanted to talk. You nearly fell out of the tree when you saw it start moving, firstly because that was definitely not just the wind, and Secondly because that's not how it worked...

The piece went to the 'hello' area showing this was happening whether you wanted it to or not, you did not get a say in this. But of course, after a couple minutes of stunned silence, the spirit spoke again; 'R-E-S-P-O-N-D–T-O–U-S' that wasn't comforting, that wasn't comforting at all, there were MULTIPLE.

"...Hi..." You mumbled out warily, panicking a lot more internally than externally. 'H-E-L-L-O' The spirit spelled out, even though there was a spot that already said hello- 'Y-O-U–L-I-V-E' The spirit pointed out, making you tense even more, maybe you were just insane? That would probably be... worse actually... "I am." You responded hesitantly, glancing around to make sure you weren't about to die some cruel death.

'W-H-Y–T-E-N-S-E' oh gee, you wonder why, it totally isn't the fact you're probably haunted or cursed now. "No reason." You stated simply, because you aren't going to be a jerk, that would be rude. "Who are you?" Your tone was polite although with a hint of anxiety, which was probably not fine. Most people would run from this... in fact, you would have been too, if it weren't for the fact you were in a tree, and would probably just lay there in defeat if you fell.

'B-L-O-O-D-M-O-O-N' You had to pause at that name, it wasn't common at all and definitely didn't scream "I'm friendly!" But you were probably stuck with it in some way now. "...nice to meet you." You responded politely, how else were you supposed to react to this? You were an anxious introvert and this was a potentially bloodthirsty ghost, not a great combination.

'Y-O-U–S-M-A-L-L' they pointed out, in which you weren't actually THAT small... so how tall was this ghost?? Apparently, much taller than you. "Okay... why are you... talking to me?" You asked, ignoring the strange spirits words. 'Y-O-U–L-O-O-K–F-R-A-G-I-L-E' the spirit responded, a sudden chill running down your spine as it spoke. "...is that a good thing to you?" You responded sheepishly, tilting your head slightly as you spoke. Instead of an answer, however, the planchette was thrown at your head, hitting the tree behind you. A few small bits of bark fell from the trees trunk, and you felt so thankful that you tilted your head out of its way.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope-" You started repeating as you moved to get up, you were ready to climb down and run now, but that was before you were grabbed by something... maybe someone.

You yelped, yet it was muffled by a cold hand over your mouth, another wrapped around your waist as you were pulled into the tree. Your eyes wideneding before shutting completely, a dizzy feeling overwhelming your senses as you were taken away.

Once you had regained your senses, finally opening your eyes, you were met with a void and... a face strangely close to you. You flinched back, now noticing the feeling of someone holding you from behind as they had chuckled at your feared reaction. "Other, they are finally awake." The one in your face stated with a grin.

It seemed like it was themed after the moon, yet showed no sign of silver aside from the silver star on its chest... it had various shades of red adoring its large form. It was a good four, maybe five feet taller than you and god was it intimidating. It looked like some sort of beast, claws, sharp teeth bared in that eerie grin it showed you. It looked... scaly in a way, its skin looked rough with the fading scars along its chest, arms, and left hip. It wore some sort of navy blue robe of sorts, yet it didn't cover much of its appearance like most would, more so just... kept it warm, maybe?

"Indeed other! It seems they survived!" The one that held you, or 'other'? Spoke, its excitement clear. its appearance quiet similar to the other creatures, the only differences being its star was gold, it had less scars, and it felt a bit fuzzy...

"They seem confused." 'Brother' spoke, its voice holding clear amusement as it held your chin up. "Yes, but I like them like this." 'Other' stated mischievously, squeezing your form in its grip, earning a slight squeak from you. "W-where am I‽" you blurted out, finally choking out the words stuck in your throat.

"In a void." 'Brother' stated bluntly, its grin widening slyly as it looked you up and down. "But- no- why-" You stammered, trying to lean away from both of them, but you couldn't move much... you were trapped with them. "Relax, little human! We won't hurt you, much~" 'Other' teased, pressing you further into it with a smug expression. "I-I can't stay here! I need to go back!" You exclaimed, trying desperately to reason with them, but it only earned chuckles of amusement. "No, no. You can' leave..." 'Brother' trailed off, both their grips on you tightening possessively...

"You're ours now, human."

————————————————————————

[Oh my god, I contemplated giving up like three times while writing this. This is what happens when I get a prompt and make it up as I go. My notes app says this is like nine pages long too.]

[icehearts]

Esca Reynault

— B A S I C S

Name: Esca Reynault

Nicknames: Lady Belladonna (derogatory), milady (also derogatory), milady (affectionate???)

Age: Early-to-mid 20s.

Nameday: 7th Sun of the 4th Astral Moon. (7/7)

Race: Midlander Hyur.

Gender: Cis female; she/her.

Orientation: Bisexual.

Profession: Alchemist by way of the Alchemists' Guild of Ul'dah, botanist by way of her father's tutelage, reluctant shopkeep of the family plant nursery-cum-apothecary

.

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Long, chestnut, well-kept. Usually swept up in a ponytail or pinned back and out of the way.

Eyes: Tigerseye brown. Inscrutable.

Skin: Fair, unblemished; the complexion of one raised in comfort and relative luxury.

Tattoos/scars: None to speak of.

— F A M I L Y

Parents:

Mother - Leopoldine Reynault, the youngest daughter of a minor house of Ishgard. Members of the Reynault family have historically been employed by larger noble houses as retainers, midwives, maids, cooks, in-house chirurgeons, groundskeepers, among other roles. Father - Warrick Caraway, a Studium-educated botanist and horticulturist with a specialization in environmental, plant, and soil sciences. Part of his ongoing post-graduation research involved evaluating the aetherial qualities of the soil in the various Calamity-affected Coerthan regions, and developing methods to encourage the growth of more diverse foliage and flora that could withstand the recently altered environs.

Siblings: None. She's an only child.

Grandparents: None to speak of. Her parents' union was not approved by either family involved, so Esca's grandparents on both sides remain quite distant.

In-laws and Other: Silas ████████, a Garlean ex-patriot who acts as a sort of older brother figure for Esca.

Pets: None to speak of.

— S K I L L S

Abilities: Alchemy, of course, botany, and she's rather savvy with a needle too. She's no seamstress, but Esca can mend an article of clothing or even stitch up a wound if need be. She has some aptitude for spellcasting, primarily wind- and water-aspected magicks. Her mastery over such magicks is lacking, to say the least, and Esca has little patience for things she can't control.

Hobbies: Reading, tending to the greenhouse, concocting experimental solutions and potions. Hunting down the ones she thinks are responsible for her mother's suspiciously sudden illness. Daydreaming about how she'll pay them back for humiliating her family. Honestly? She needs more hobbies.

— T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Diplomatic.

Most Negative Traits: Deceptive.

— L I K E S

Colors: Blues, whites, blacks. Silver and gold.

Smells: Fresh air, delicate florals. Nothing overpowering.

Textures: Smooth silk, gauzey cotton, weathered leather.

Drinks: Mulled tea, coffee, mint lassi.

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Never.

Drinks: Very rarely. Alcohol makes it a little too easy for the mask of composure to slip off, so she tends to avoid the stuff. Plus she tends to be an emotional drunk, and that can be embarrassing.

Drugs: None.

Mount Issuance: A snow-white chocobo affectionately named Ambrosia.

Been Arrested: Why? Do you think she's guilty of something?

Tagged by: @paintedscales @sealrock @shroudkeeper tysm <3

Tagging: YOU! 🫵 That's right YOU! If you haven't done this yet but want to, consider yourself officially tagged!

[punsmaster69]

16/MAR/20XX

slowly, that heavy purple door is opened. the human leans all their weight onto it until it's open enough so that they can just barely squeeze through.

snow crunches beneath their boots as they carefully step out, seeming shocked by the sudden cold.

the human presses on, slowly treading the tree-lined path. constantly, they're looking with fear at the trees around them - as if they thought something was going to jump out at them.

keeping a distance, i follow patiently behind - making a few quick observations as i do.

they're shaking - stick in hand. the shaking doesn't seem to only be the result of the weather.

they haven't been in snowdin long enough for that to be snow on their clothes.

weirdly, there's a strange upset look they've had since exiting that door.

...

𝘾 𝙍 𝘼 𝘾 𝙆 .

i disappear into the trees. the human whips around. their expression goes from... apologetic, almost?

upset to a look of fear.

getting a better look at their face, they're noticably pretty young. can't be older than thirteen, maybe.

with more hesitation, they approach the looming wooden bars.

stepping less lightly, i make my footsteps audible as i approach them. the human freezes entirely.

"H u m a n ."

"D o n ' t y o u k n o w h o w

t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?"

"T u r n a r o u n d a n d

s h a k e m y h a n d ."

slowly, they turn to face me.

i outstretch my hand towards them.

they shakily meet a hand with mine.

i firmly grasp onto

the fabric at my sides.

somewhat thin, cold to the touch. extremely familiar.

a stream of moonlight illuminates my bedsheets. the light enters through my opened curtains. my curtains, which flutter around with each breeze that comes through the open window.

realizing i should close it, i find myself already sat upright.

for once i decide to not mind the effort. tossing my sheets aside - shuddering from the immediate blast of cold wind - i slide my legs over the side of my bed.

along the floor, i sweep my feet against the carpet. eventually, my foot makes contact with a slipper. i slide it on and find the other not long after.

it's nearly silent when my feet hit the carpeted floor as i pull myself out of bed entirely.

this journal is one of the things i knock over while blindly tapping my hand along the top of my nightstand, trying to find my phone. the phone itself is included in what falls. i'm not too concerned, since it isn't a tall height to fall from as well as there being carpet to soften the landing.

what i 𝘸𝘢𝘴 worried about is also softened by the carpet - it dampens the noise made by accidentally knocking random objects off my nightstand.

another blast of cold wind reminds me what i was doing.

upon stepping forward, my foot catches something on the floor; nearly tripping me. my phone flashlight reveals it to be a shirt haphazardly tossed onto the floor. didn't inspect it close enough to be able to say which one exactly. using my foot, it gets tossed just as haphazardly to the other side of the room.

light pointed at the floor, i avoid any more self-made hazards while making my way to the window. unfortunately, this isn't a sound dampened by anything.

more fortunately, not a sound is heard from the other room as i wait in total stillness.

i'm careful to go slower than before as i silently close the curtains and make my way back to bed.

...

i sit quietly for some time, covering up with my sheets once more - yet not lying down.

tap, tap.

it takes a few moments for me to locate the journal again on the nightstand.

deciding to write this very entry, i use just my phone light. less noticable than a lamp, if not a bit more of a hassle. which, again, i decide i don't mind for now. papyrus would definitely notice the light if he's not in bed - not a gamble i'm taking.

i'd usually not mind having someone with me after an odd dream, but.

...not really a nightmare.

a memory?

but, that's not how things happened.

not exactly, at least.

when i first went to shake hands with the kid, they didn't wait to turn like that.

...

i had a few thoughts about it at the time. one of them being the feeling they were that anomaly in the reports...

well, it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 true. wasn't a wrong feeling.

but, frisk isn't timid like that kid in the dream. they turned around because i'd made it obvious someone was there. not some repeat thing.

.....

or...?

eh, scratch it.

it's not important.

not anymore.

even if there was truth to that dream, they fixed it in the end - one way or another.

's all that matters to me.

[multifandomfix]

Jack Frost Fluff Alphabet

A = Aroma (What do they smell like?)

He smells like vanilla and peppermint.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

He’s a sucker for pet names and will use them often. He’ll have a whole host of holiday/winter themed ones on hand, but he’s a fan of the classics as well.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

You have to (quite literally) warm him up to the idea of cuddling, but once you do, boy does he love it!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? What would they think about living together?)

Settling down definitely isn’t the first thing on his mind, but you could get him to come around to the idea in time.

E = Emotion (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He mostly shows his affection through flirty jokes and some lighthearted teasing.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

He can be a pretty smooth flirt if he really puts in the effort to be.

G = Gifts (Are they a gift giver? What kind of gifts do they give?)

He isn’t big on gifts because he never seems to know what to get you, but on the rare occasion he does decide to get you something you know it always comes from the heart.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s really not all that fond of hugs. He doesn’t mind them as much coming from you, but it’s not his favorite form of affection.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It’ll take him a while. He’ll have to get past those walls he’s built up to let you in, but when he does say it, he’ll say it with his whole heart.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh he can get insanely jealous. It melts that icy exterior of his and boils his blood to see you laughing or flirting with someone else.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

His kisses are usually very spontaneous and can get a little heated. He’s also a big fan of kissing the insides of your wrists.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Would they want some of their own?)

He’s not the best with children, though they do seem to like him. He’d never really considered having his own, but if you’re looking to start a family with him, he could really start to picture it.

M = Meet (How did they meet you?)

He met you at the beginning of winter when you rushed out to see the first snowfall and he was so charmed by your adoration of the season that he couldn’t help but introduce himself.

N = Nurture (Are they good at taking care of you if you’re hurt/sick?)

Frankly, no. He’s not great at it. He usually winds up making things worse. It’s not as if he doesn’t want to help you though.

O = Out (What’s a typical date night with them like?)

He loves giving you the whole winter experience. Things like taking you to see the northern lights, snowball fights, ice skating, etc.

P = Propose (When do you/they propose? How does the proposal go?)

He proposes on Christmas. Claims that you saying yes would make the holiday less awful for him. It’s actually quite the romantic proposal, despite him trying to make light of it.

Q = Quirk (What small habit/feature/quirk do they have that you find especially endearing?)

The way he always seems to be warm, despite basically being coldness personified.

R = Routine (What does a typical day together look like? Routines, schedules, habits?)

With Jack there is no routine. He likes to whisk you off with him in the middle of the day, or surprise you with breakfast in the morning. Routine bores him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

He can be pretty protective. Overprotective perhaps. You often have to remind him that you know how to handle yourself.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, etc?)

He puts in a pretty decent amount of effort for anything he’s serious about doing, but if it’s something he doesn’t want to do, that effort will be greatly reduced, unless you provide him some incentive.

U = Unique (What’s something they’d only do for you?)

Deal with Santa. It’s his least favorite thing to have to do, but if you asked him for a favor and he had to go to Santa to do it, then he would.

V = Vulnerable (How long does it take them to feel comfortable being vulnerable around you?)

A good while. He’s not so easy to get to open up, but once you’ve made that first crack, it can all come spilling out of him.

W = Wardrobe (What would they wear to impress you?)

His usual suit is pretty impressive already. It’s sleek and sexy, but you like seeing him in anything blue. It just makes him look so good.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Jack is a terrible cook, but he does make excellent homemade ice cream.

Y = You (What are some things they would like in a partner?)

He’d like someone who would defend and support him. He can sometimes feel insecure, and to have an advocate would make him feel so loved.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Jack is a light sleeper. He’ll be the first awake at the slightest of sounds. He’s also a sleep cuddler.

For 🧪 Anon

Jack Frost: @phantomofclownery, @creativegenius22

[re-re-redline]

-confession hcs: mitchel-

foreword: I- y-u h—en’- —ad t-e Ro—n-e H-adc—-ns - d— —r C-ns—nt-ne, t—n I adv—e th— -ou — s—-e t-is -s - d—-ct c——nuat—n -f co—ep-s a— e—-ts t—t ha——-d (o- w—ld hap—n —y b- - b—-er phra—) i- —at s— o- —ad—no-s. In le-s wo—s, —u ma- f-nd y—rse-f - b— co——ed. -t t-is p—se, I d-n’t h—e t-at ma— p—-s so scrol—— thro—h -y pr—-le —-uldn’t -e t-o mu-h of a cho— at t-e ti— of w—-ing. -ut o—e I h-ve mor- th—gs u—er my b-lt, I’-l m—- a M—ter—st.

Warm is the word that comes to mind. Ever since he materialized in this paper colored world, he was cold. A fact that he didn’t quite register until he held your hand in his one day. Ever since then, he longed for warmth. Blankets, mittens, and jackets—they all served their purpose nicely, but that was all. They provided nothing more than an artificial way to retain the little heat his body gave. But even so, Constantine yearned for something more.

Another time, you hugged him. At its face it was nothing special, simply a gesture of gratitude for aiding you in getting out of having to do extra push-ups. The moment lasted for less than a minute, yet it’s presence lingered for long after. Through his extra layers, the blazer and waistcoat, he could feel it. Warmth, but of a different kind. It was something much more full and hearty, intense. It was you and it was overwhelming for the short duration that it happened, a burning sensation. What lingered thereafter kept the all too familiar chill at bay, and Constantine couldn’t help but feel bereft upon its disappearance. He wanted more.

Not too long after, Constantine found himself with burns from you again. But this time was different, you hadn’t even laid a finger on him. It was a discussion shared in his room. You had come to drop off a letter from Don Quixote but ended up sticking around for longer than intended. A point of interest on the walls. A single acrylic tile containing various flowers sat above his bed. At the time, his room wasn’t fully decorated nor nearly as organized as it is today, thus casting a spotlight on the lonesome, colorful square. You inquired about where it came from to which he happily explained. The flowers came from several people at several different points in time for several different reasons. The roses were from Nero as gift for helping her put together a concert, the chrysanthemums were from Miss Crane for New Year’s, the dandelions were from Paris and Asterios—so on and so forth. The conversation then turned into how the tile came to be, the trials and tribulations of creating something of this nature for the first time. He paused midway through after not hearing you respond for some time to check on you, only to have your visage set him aflame. Your expression at that point in time was unforgettable, something he’d think back to frequently. Your eyes shimmered with curiosity and attentiveness, your lips curled into a small smile—both zeroed in on him and him only. You hadn’t once spaced out during his, admittedly, long winded explanation and it showed in the way you were patiently waiting for him to continue. The burning sensation left him stunned, so much so that he almost didn’t catch you asking if he was alright. He managed to catch his breath and continued his explanation once more, his face several degrees hotter than normal.

With the raises in temperature you brought lay something else under the surface. Something that Constantine had been ignoring just fine until one innocuous look backwards in time. Constant thoughts of you, wondering when you two will hang out again and being excited at the prospect, noticing things you’d like or would need and the subsequent desire to give them to you, the warmth he feels because of you…They all pointed to a disturbing conclusion. One that made him reject his feelings down to the very circumstances of their existence.

Then he felt cold.

endnote:

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 5- Long Season Through☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)   • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 1 5 2 3 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 21.01.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: an opportunity presents itself in annoying hues. TW: fire mention, (a copious amount of) alcohol(ism) (being ingested). .

The sound of a shovel hurling through the air and hitting a mound of mud made the birds in a three-hundred and sixty-shaku radius take off flying in a petrified haze. 

  Your mood was a rotten peach decaying in the mud. The amount of negativity surrounding you could summon a miasma. 

  You sat on the grass, hanging your head low. Last week had been tough. You didn't feel the same after what happened in the town. He stopped it, but he was so close to not. If not for your tears, everyone would've... 

  You pressed your hands into your temples. You focused on your breathing. Even writing hadn't gone well today, your strokes were lax and the words wouldn't flow. Neither did cooking go well. You ended up eating a ridiculous amount of bread and pickled plums. 

  You wouldn't need to eat for another century. And when you tried reading, your eyes and mind wandered far from the page. 

  A shadow obscured the dim sun. 

  You looked up. 

  A bold red shadow against the blue sky stood above you. Great. The last person you wanted to see. 

  "What do you want, oni?" You asked with a small voice, cracking throughout. 

  "Come with me, crazy human." He reached out a claw to you. It was framed by black, chrome feathers.

  You took it, and he lifted you easily. A soft reminder of his power. His hand was hot. 

  "Cool." You stood, waiting patiently for him to do some magic. 

  He rose a brow.

  "You're not going to argue with me?" 

  You shook your head. 

  "Take me away from this wretched place. I'm done." 

  After a delay, he smirked, flashing his razor-sharp shark teeth. 

  Instead of fog, everything swirled with black wind, like a thick smog that prompted you to cough. 

  You stood in a worn down castle, once abandoned but now lived in again, taken by force, made evident by the damage and odd decor. It was incohesive, cobbled together, the most expensive treasures and baubles someone had stuffed in corners and stuck on walls. 

  Akura kept walking. You tapped your foot in place. 

  "Huh? Aren't you coming?" 

  "Nah. I've decided to stay and rot here 'til I die." You smiled. 

  "I decide who rots and when in this castle. Move," He ordered.

  You didn't budge as he softly pressed on your back. Your sandals shuffled. 

  "Tomoe has your dagger. He's here. You could, you know, get it back." His hair ghosted over your neck. 

  Your eyes lit up, and you felt determination coming back to you. 

  "Really?" You began walking, his hand still on your back. 

  "Really. But don't think it'll be easy." He laughed behind closed teeth. You felt a chill run up your spine as his claws brushed your skin. 

  The castle was far from empty. It was filled with servants and goons of Akura-ou. You assumed that's what they were. Or maybe they were Tomoe's? 

  Your destination had been a large room with a few floor-to-ceiling windows and various tables. At one with three chairs, in the middle chair, sat Tomoe. Portuguese chairs, carved intricately. Such luxury. 

  Next to him on the table were several flasks of sake, sake cups, brushes, and... ink... and paper. How peculiar. 

  A sparkle. Your dagger was lying in his lap. His tail swung quickly. 

  "You're back quick." 

  The door closed loudly. It shook the walls. The room smelled of incense- standing in the other corner of the room- and... alcohol. And pine, and a subtle cherry smell. So much was going on, and your brain had trouble processing it, including the unusual spirits on either side of you. 

  "I don't like dragging things out."

  You plopped down in one of the other chairs, Akura-ou in the one opposite of you. 

  You inspected the table, glancing up at Akura and Tomoe with owlish eyes. 

  "You get your dagger if you win," Akura said, nodding over to Tomoe. His ears perked up. 

  "You and Akura-ou will drink undiluted sake until you're as drunk as can be. Then, you both will attempt to write [the kanji for] "melancholy rose". The one who manages to do so- will keep the dagger," Explained Tomoe. 

  Your joy faded as quickly as it came. 

  "Drinking with a yokai?! That's damn impossible!" You tangled your hands in your hair. Tomoe smiled. 

  "We'll see." Tomoe glanced to Akura, and their eyes met, smiles matched in mischieviousness, one face demonic, and one ethereal. 

  You inhaled. 

  You smiled smugly. 

  "Fine. I take your deal." 

  The first drink was a puppy. 

  The tenth was a hellhound biting off your head. 

  Some time after that you had stopped counting. 

  You groaned, hot face held in your shaky hands. The alcohol burned in your stomach all the way back up your throat. Your mouth had started to numb. You could see well enough, but your body was loose, and each movement seemed so much more broad and intense. You laid your head on the table. You kept feeling the fabric of your clothing with your fingertips. 

  Akura had a lightly flushed face and kept needlessly fixing his hair. You had an... uncontrollable urge to go for a run. And to knit. You never knitted. Or went for runs. 

  "How drunk are you?" Asked Tomoe, watching you with disinterest. Akura-ou flipped his hair, and it hung from his horns. He attempted to fix it, only managing to tangle another piece of hair on his golden disc earrings. He growled. 

  You tried to lift yourself. Your body was heavy. You huffed, clinging to your chair. 

  You gasped. 

  "Drunk... enough..." You sighed, folding over. Your hair obscured your vision. Akura-ou's eyes were glassy and squinting at a corner in the room. 

  You stared at him through your hair. 

  "How are you drunk? When you drank at the festival... you downed what seemed like bottle after bottle with no issue-" You forced out between breaths and nonsensical hums. 

  "I drank only.... a glass.... or two. The rest was... juice." He tried to lean back, almost falling and catching himself by gripping the table. 

  A screen was placed between you two. His horns still peeked out from behind. 

  You were given a brush, ink, and a piece of paper. You inhaled, trying to focus and pull yourself together. You only made yourself dizzier. 

  The melancholy rose kanji... the shapes were vaguely in your mind. One was like a chicken coup with a skewer on top. The other was like a wise old man squinting... or something like that. 

  You were thankful you had eaten a lot that day, as it seemed you were faster to sober up. Akura... by his shadow, it seemed like he wasn't writing at all, only swaying back and forth like a maple sapling in the wind. 

  You made your best guess with the parts of the kanji you remembered. You cringed. And empty page- a writer's worst nightmare. Shapes swirled before you and your world spun as you felt nausea rise in your throat. Your body felt weightless and you felt yourself floating away into a reverie. 

  You closed your eyes. A while ago you wrote something with those exact words. You audibly hummed as you thought and your face scrunched in frustration. You wished you could shove your hand into the deepest parts of your brain and retrieve the memory and slap it on the page. You bit your lip. 

  You opened your eyes. The page stared back expectantly. 

  "Don't look at me like that." 

  It didn't reply. You huffed, tapping your brush. 

  Your hand trembled as you dipped the brush into the ink, and set it down on the paper. If you never tried, you'd never win. And you couldn't miss the opportunity. So you steeled your nerves and wrote like you weren't drunk and being scrutinized by sly purple eyes. 

  You placed the final stroke, checking the writing. It was as close as you were going to get. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as sobriety came creeping up to you. 

  The screen was removed. 

  Akura was in the middle of falling asleep over what was... well, it could've been an abstract painting, it could've been an ink spill, it could've been a hallucination; it was many things- but it wasn't "melancholy rose". 

  You looked down at your paper. You hadn't fared too badly. 

  Tomoe's eyes widened. He banged on the table. 

  "Akura! That's abhorrent!" He pointed a grey claw at the paper. Akura ou hummed incomprehensibly in response. Tomoe stared at him with disappointment. They switched places. Akura was shoved out of his chair and into Tomoe's. He didn't seem to mind. He was in a place far away now. Rest in piss. 

  Tomoe sat down. He placed the dagger on the table. Your hand reached towards it. He spawned fire in his hand. You slapped it away. The fire faded. Tomoe looked surprised. 

  "I... HATE... fire," You mumbled angrily. You glared at him. 

  He tapped the table. 

  "I request a rematch, with me." 

  Tomoe poured another cup of sake. 

  Things were never as simple as you wanted them to be, huh? 

[squidlykitten]

D A Y T H R E E

Alt Prompt: Shivering

His breath hung heavy on the air, thick clouds drifting before clouded eyes. It was cold. Far too cold for a vincam, let alone one of his size and age. The mud sucked hungrily at his boots, fighting him for every step of the slog, sending cold lightning jolting up through his leg, though his hip, down to his feet.

His lungs burned and the air felt jagged upon his tongue, scraping down his throat with every desperate gasp. One foot. And then the next. Forward… Forward.

His company was long since behind him, small still forms lay tangled in the freezing mud. He had tried to drag them onwards. Tried to keep them close. But the wind had claws sharper than he did, it's howling voice louder than any Command. He couldn't save them. He never could.

Bodies and bodies and bodies and blood -- red eyes frosted over, purple mouths opened in final, desperate gasps, magenta paths carved into the snow and the muck, a bloom of color against the featureless landscape of gray and white.

Soon, he felt, it would swallow him whole.

He stumbled, knee seizing up as hemolymph thickened, pumping sluggish through the slowing thrum of his pulse. Onwards. He dragged his leg heavy behind. Onwards. His chin hit the earth and so he crawled, claws digging deep trenches in the mud. Onwards. He heaved another, aching breath. Onwards.

He had to reach the base camp. Had to signal the flotilla. The Soldiers-- there might be some capable of saving. Some lives not yet snuffed out. Just… sleeping. The torpor would keep them safe. Hold them close.

He could felt it like a memory, like a friend, like a whisper. If he just laid down to rest, if he just stopped, only a moment… The aching could fade. The struggle could end. He could feel phantom warmth licking at his fingers like flames, hot and painful, if he just removed his gloves, removed his robes. If he just laid down to rest…

He yanked his arm from out of the mud, pressed onwards, clawed onwards. He only needed to reach the signal. He only needed to reach the light. KJ had long since gone silent within his head, running low-power in an attempt to preserve his warmth. That whisper in the back of his mind was not his friend, not his reason, but something else. Something deeper.

Something calling him Home.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Priest!Masema NSFW Alphabet

A = After (what they’re like after sex)

Before the guilt has set in, he'll want to cuddle and help you clean up a little. He likes to hear you tell him he did well for you. He likes to hear you thank him. He wants to hold you close, smelling your hair and hearing you talk, until he starts to feel the pangs of religious guilt.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, he'll say your hair and the moles/freckles/scars that adorn your skin, but in turth it is your ass and hips.

One himself it is his hands, because they do God's work.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Really fucking average, tbf. He is more a gusher than a shooter, tho. He does really love to cream pie though, to sit back and watch it gush out of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Everything about his sexuality is his dirty secret. YOU are his dirty secret. The way he lusts after you, the things he does to you, his absolute and everything overruling need for you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Barely any before he met you. He's 'strayed' once or twice before you, but that was a good long while ago. Though he does seem to know what he wants and how to do it to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. It makes him feel somewhat in charge and it is the only position that is 'correct'.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he is very serious. He takes sinning very serious and will actually shut you down when you try and bring some humour into the sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hair???? What hair, he does not even grow much leg hair and the peach fluff that grows under his armpits is negligible.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to be emotionally distant, but he never succeeds. He craves closeness, he craves small gestures of love and he will bestow them upon you like a waterfall.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He edges to the thought of you daily. But he never lets himself cum.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Femdom, edging, slow burn, orgasm desperation, overstim, semi public sex, clothed sex, bondage, spanking and biting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bedroom, the confessional, the lecture stand and his car.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your scent, the sight of your boobs/ass, when you bend over, when you press yourself close to him, the wind playing through your hair, eye contact, the way you moan, your laughter. Hell, your sheer existance is arousing to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

DDLG, bodily fluids, ageplay, exhibitionism and roleplay

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Getting head will undo him in half a minute and he will never get used to it. He loves eating you out, but keeps it as a rare treat, when he thinks he deserves it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He really wants to be slow and sensual, to take his time on your body, BUT, about ten minutes in he loses all semblance of selfcontrol and goes hard and fast, unless you take control.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

His mouth is telling you no, but his body is telling you yes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

HAHAHAHHAHA NO, AND YET, so slowly draw him into your kinky world and he is so here for it, without really being aware of it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has a surprisingly strong stamina. He lasts long and can go at it for hours per session.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nope, he balks at the mere idea of using toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is not at all a tease, but secretly likes it when you tease him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is embarrassingly loud. He just cannot keep quiet. Once it feels good, he will not be able to help himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He cannot looking at you without fantasies bursting, like intruisive thoughts, into his mind. Only he does not recognise them as intruisive thoughts, he sees them as the devil showing him his deepest urges. He feels shame every time his thoughts come to him like that. But he never fails to act upon them either.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is so shapely, long and proportionally thicc, OF cock, really.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Actually quite high. He is very ashamed of this, but he is such a needy lil pervert. Especially after meeting you, all he can think of is fucking you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ARE YOU KIDDING, HE HAS TO REPENT. Guy has some praying to do, guilt riddled and morally conflicted. He can't sleep for hours!!!