#*as opposed to like. missing a couple meals.

[borrelia]

anyway :) today i learned the reason you DON'T do inhalants for fun is that it inhibits a central metabolic pathway at a very basic very essential cellular level (TCA cycle). and that inhibition prevents your cells from doing the one other very basic very essential metabolic pathway they all know how to do too (glycolysis). which means your cells get No energy. to do Anything they need to do. they starve in a very immediate very serious way that doesn't normally happen to them.* so that shit can kill you pretty bad!

[kwanisms]

Dinner & Dessert — c.jh

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➮ virgin!Jongho × experienced!Reader wc: 3.6k summary: Jongho takes Y/N out on a nice dinner date but they decide to have dessert back at Y/N's dorm room. genres/themes/au: light fluff, smut; best friends to lovers (bff2l), college setting; non idol au, bff au, college au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than Jongho, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @bro-atz permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @suveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @simeonswhore @yangracha @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @chocolate-scoups @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin @juskz   ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @starlitmark @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @confusedmoonchild777 @burnsmepls @nebulousbookshelf

join my taglist! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry it's taken so long to get this out but here's the next part of the Jongho Corruption Kink Miniseries. Thank you to Bro for reading this for me cause I wasnt sure if it was any good. I don't have much else to say about this other than I cranked this out in a couple hours so I hope you like it! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, praise (m receiving), slight body worship (f receiving), corruption kink, pussy drunk Jongho (man gets one taste and just goes feral), mild face fucking (f receiving), deepthroating, use of pet names (hers: baby, babe, angel; his: babe, baby), light fingering (f receiving), and I think that's all? Lemme know if I missed any!

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“I want you to teach me how to give oral.”

The words had caught you off guard as soon as they left your best friend boyfriend’s lips. Your lips parted in shock as you let the noodles from your meal slip off your fork while you fixed him with an incredulous stare.

Quickly, you glanced around before leaning in and meeting his gaze.

“We are in public, Jongho!” you hissed. He said nothing, merely blinking back at you like he hadn’t just said something inherently sexual and inappropriate for dinner conversation.

Not that you were opposed to this kind of behavior, you just didn’t expect it from your virgin best friend boyfriend. From you? Definitely but from him? Unexpected, but welcomed.

Ever since teaching him how to properly finger you, you’d seen an uptick in his eagerness and willingness to initiate sexual intimacy. Of course you’d never gone past touching one another as you didn’t want to pressure Jongho into doing anything he wasn’t ready for.

Clearly, he was ready for more.

“So?” he muttered, glancing down at his plate and back up as you set your utensil down and picked up your napkin. This was the last thing you expected when he asked you out for dinner.

Jongho had texted you right after class and asked if you wanted to get dinner. You initially had expected him to bring take out over, a pizza or some other favorite place but instead, he told you to be ready to leave in an hour and told you to dress up.

It wasn’t entirely like him to be so assertive but since you started seeing each other (among other things), Jongho’s confidence had seen a huge boost and you like to think you had a hand in that although you knew it was entirely on him. 

He’d shown up to your dorm looking less like your chaste best friend boyfriend and was instead oozing every ounce of sex appeal you knew he had. The ride to the restaurant had been silent mostly but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest and you were thankful that he was distracted by driving as it gave your eyes the chance to wander and appreciate everything they could take in.

Jongho had gone beyond your expectations, going so far as to make a reservation, meaning he had to have been planning this for at least a week. You were beyond impressed by his efforts. You remembered a conversation the two of you had a week or so ago where he assured you that what you had was more than just the physical stuff to him. He wanted more and you did, too. It was just hard to keep your hands to yourself sometimes.

So when he suddenly sprang this on you, to say you were shocked was an understatement.

Your lips threatened to turn into a smirk before you spoke.

“Well, at least you’re taking me out to dinner first,” you mused, making Jongho look down at his plate as the hostess walked by, guiding a couple to another table. He looked back up to meet your gaze. “So will you?” he asked softly, eyes shining with a curiosity that was both adorable but also played into your more carnal desire to corrupt your virginal boyfriend in every way possible.

You lifted your wine glass slowly, taking a sip and maintaining eye contact, setting it back down before answering him. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” you asked. Jongho inhaled and exhaled slowly before nodding fervently. You admired how hard he tried to keep his composure but you could tell under the facade, he was eager to have you under him again.

‘Cute.’

Jongho would be a liar if he said he wasn’t eager to have you under him again. Ever since he’d made you come with just his fingers, he’d wondered what it’d be like to have you come undone on his tongue. He thought about it far more than he cared to admit even to himself.

Ever since that first night, months ago, when you made him come in his pants, he’d been insatiable. Knowing you wanted him as much as he wanted you and then some gave him a much needed confidence boost. Sure, this relationship was about more than just sex but no one could blame him for wanting to be intimate with his best friend girlfriend.

As he held your gaze, hoping you’d say yes to his proposal, you toyed with your fork, no doubt contemplating his words rather than if you wanted to continue eating. He hoped you’d say yes. He was about to beg (not like he wasn’t entirely above it. Not when he was dying to get a taste) when you smiled that lovely smile that always managed to give him butterflies, make his brain turn to mush, and his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, he was down so bad.

Before you could respond, the server returned to the table and Jongho took the opportunity to end the night. “Could we get the check please?” he asked. The server nodded before looking between the two of you. “Were we thinking of any dessert?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly, thanking him before he nodded and walked away to get your bill.

“We’ve got dessert at home.”

No sooner than you were back in your dorm did Jongho have your door shut, locked your back pressed against it, lips on yours as his hands wandered, grabbing the material of your dress and slowly bunching it up past your thighs. “Jjongie,” you murmured as his lips left yours to trail kisses down the side of your neck. “We should probably take these off,” you added, trying to undo the button on your jacket.

Jongho let out an animalistic growl, grabbing your hands and pinning them against the wall.

“I’m getting to it,” he mumbled, lips attaching to your neck once more but his hands keeping your wrists firmly against the wood of your door. “Well hurry up,” you teased as you tried to pull against his hold on your wrists. To your surprise, Jongho gave in easily, letting go of your wrists and opting instead to fumble with the buttons of your jacket.

Once he managed to undo them, the fabric just seemed to slide off you as your own hands worked quickly to unzip his own jacket and push it off him. You felt his hands trying to pull at your dress, a silent plea to remove it but you had other plans, instead taking a temporary lead and guiding him to your bed only for him to gently but firmly push you down onto it.

Before he could guide you further back, you grabbed him by the hips, holding him steady as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Let me take care of you first, baby,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper but more than loud enough in the silence of your dorm room for him to hear.

Wordlessly, Jongho’s hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin and down over your bottom lip. “A-are you sure?” he asked nervously. You smiled up at him, not breaking eye contact as you slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “Yes,” you whispered again.

“I’m sure.” 

It didn’t take you long to pull his pants down just enough to expose his hard cock, hidden in the confines of his underwear. You carefully pressed your palm against it, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his boxers. You heard him inhale sharply and fought the urge to smirk. You’ve barely touched him and yet he was so responsive. You felt a small surge of pride over being able to have such an effect on him merely by touching him over his underwear.

Not wanting to keep him, or yourself, waiting, you ran your hand up, tucking the tips of your fingers under the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulling the material down until his cock sprang free, standing proudly and waiting for you to touch.

Tearing your gaze away from Jongho’s temporarily, you wrapped your hand around the base and gave him a tentative stroke, enjoying the way he let out a whimper. As much as you wanted to tease him about it, you chose not to, wanting to make him feel good.

Parting your lips, you took him by surprise by taking him into your mouth without any warning, making him gasp, one of his hands moving to your head, fingers tightening slightly in your hair. “Shit,” he hissed, breath already coming out raggedly.

Oh how you wanted to tease him for it so badly. Falling apart so quickly. ‘Another time.’

You sank slowly, taking more and more of him in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy on your tongue. He tried to focus on his breathing, trying to keep his composure no doubt but you knew his resolve would crumble the moment you started bobbing your head.

And crumble it did.

No sooner than you started moving, did he let out a loud moan. Almost too loud. If anyone had been walking by your room at that exact moment, there would be no doubt in their mind what was going on behind the door. Not that you’d mind. You really didn’t care what your dorm neighbors thought.

The only thing that mattered was that your boyfriend, your oh-so-sweet and innocent boyfriend, was in your room, cock in your mouth, and the eagerness to learn how to please you after you got him off. It seemed only fair to show him what you could do first before teaching him what to do.

A preemptive reward if you will.

Each bob of your head had Jongho choking back a moan, resisting the urge to bite his fist to muffle the sounds even more than he was. You pulled back, his cock falling from your tongue to look up at him. Your hand took over temporarily as you looked up at him and spoke.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t care who hears you.”

Jongho shook his head. “I don’t want your neighbors to complain,” he whispered, stifling a groan as your hand worked him even more. “Fuck them” you retorted. “I want to hear how good I make you feel, baby,” you added. Jongho studied your face for a moment, contemplating whether he should just toss his inhibitions aside but the decision was made for him when you took him back in your mouth, letting out an unrestrained moan.

You felt a swell of pride in your chest as you moved, each unrestrained moan a dulcet melody to your ears. You continued to move, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back. Glancing up, you met his heated gaze, and felt that distinct throb between your legs. “Babe,” he moaned, gently stroking your hair. “Let me—” whatever he was about to say faltered as he let out a whine, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

You barely gave him a chance to recover as you sank further, taking his cock further until the head rested just in the back of your throat. Jongho let out a choked moan as you swallowed around him. “Fuck, baby, wait,” Jongho gasped, cock twitching in your mouth. You pulled back and looked up at him.

“I was about to cum,” he panted, making you smirk. “That’s the goal,” you said softly, licking your lips. “Just, give me a moment,” Jongho said breathlessly and you nodded, watching him regulate his breathing. The silence was punctuated only by his ragged breathing.

“Uhm, Y/N?” he finally spoke. You looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Could I… try something?” His voice sounded so soft and full of curiosity. How could you deny his genuine curiosity? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Of course,” you replied sweetly. “What would you like to try?”

Of course, at that moment, your sweet boyfriend’s words failed him. “I-I… I w-wanted to…” You smiled up at him. “Take your time,” you cooed. “I’m not going anywhere. And don’t feel embarrassed for asking for anything. I’m happy to let you try anything you—”

“Could I fuck your face?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to come out of his mouth but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh,” you said softly, caught off guard. Jongho’s face flushed in the low light of your room. “S-sorry,” he muttered quickly. “F-forget I said anything!” He started to pull his underwear up but you stopped him. “I told you that you have nothing to be embarrassed about, babe,” you said softly.

“If you want to try that, we certainly can.”

Jongho stared at you, eyes widening as you tugged his pants and underwear back down. “R-really?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. ‘Cute.’ You nodded, a smile ever present on your face.

“Of course,” you replied. “If I tap your thigh twice, that means stop, okay?” you asked. He nodded excitedly. You licked your lips before parting them and allowing him to guide the head of his cock into your mouth. You breathed in slowly and nodded, letting him know you were ready.

The first thrust was shallow, almost as if he was testing the waters. You nodded again. He gave you another shallow thrust. You pulled back quickly. “Don’t worry about me,” you said softly. “Just go for it. I’ll stop you if I need to.”

The moment his cock was back in your mouth, Jongho did as you said and went for it. One hand held your head in place, giving you a few tentative thrusts before just letting go. Each thrust had the tip hitting the back of your throat, making lewd sounds fill the room. 

Jongho’s hand moved to the back of your head and you were taken by surprise as he pushed your head further, forcing the head of his cock into the back of your throat. You gagged, despite trying to fight it but he didn’t let up. Instead, he gave you another thrust, pushing further into your throat.

“Oh shit,” you heard him curse. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue and before he could pull you off him, you grabbed his hips, holding him firmly in place. “F-fuck, I’m gonna—”

His words were cut off by a moan as he came, load spilling down your throat. You held him still until you were sure he was done before pulling back, coughing slightly. “Oh shit, are you okay, angel?” Jongho asked quickly, taking your face in his hands and inspecting your face. You smiled at him.

“More than okay,” you answered, carefully pulling his underwear back up over his softening cock and zipping up his pants. Jongho pulled you into a kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue.

“Lie back,” he muttered against your lips, leaning over you as he spoke. You scooted backwards on your bed as Jongho climbed over you, lips pressing against yours as his hand bunched your dress up against your hip. “Can I remove this?” he asked softly. You nodded, letting out a soft giggle as his fingers skimmed against your bare skin as he hiked your dress up.

“Wait,” you said softly, grabbing his hands. Jongho looked up, meeting your gaze. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, searching your face. You cupped his cheek tenderly. “Take your time,” you muttered. “Don’t rush things.”

Jongho nodded, letting your dress fall against the bed, exposing only below your navel, giving him full view of your red lace panties. “Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You’re going to be the death of me, babe.” You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a smile as Jongho pressed a couple chaste kisses against your collar before glancing up at you, his hands slowly sliding down your chest, cupping your breasts briefly.

“I know I’m supposed to be learning to give oral,” he started, looking back up at you. “But could I please, take this off? Please, baby, please,” he murmured. “I really just wanna see your beautiful body.” 

Hearing the compliment from him made your cheeks grow warm. “Another time, okay? Let’s focus on the lesson,” you replied. Jongho sighed and nodded, slowly kissing down your body over the material of your dress until he reached your stomach. He looked up to meet your gaze.

“Now what?” he asked. “Take your time,” you started. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing.”

Without another word, you stifled a giggle as his kisses tickled your skin. “Should I take these off?” he asked, fingers toying with the lace of your panties. You nodded. “Go ahead.”

You lifted your hips as Jongho pulled the fabric down, removing them and tossing them aside. “Do I just…” he trailed off. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing. You’ve touched me before, if you want to start with that, I’m fine with that. I just want you to be comfortable,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as Jongho looked up at you from between your thighs.

“Or I could just…” he trailed off, spreading your lips before giving you a light lick, tongue flat against your clit. “Yeah,” you said breathily as he dove back in. “You could do that, too.”

“Remember what I told you before. Focus on the cli— ah!” you gasped as you felt his tip of his tongue pass over your clit, already sensitive from not getting any attention earlier. “Like that?” he asked, peeking at you as you fell back against the bed. “Y-yeah, like that,” you answered.

Jongho gave you a cheeky smile which you didn’t see and went back to it, diving back in. Each pass of his tongue over your aching clit had you moaning, the backs of your thighs resting against his shoulders as he buried his face between your legs.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” you asked between moans, one hand moving down to tangle in his dark locks. “Cause it sure seems like you know what you’re doing.” Jongho hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. “I’m sure,” he finally managed to get out, licking his lips. “If I had, I think we’d already be past this,” he added.

“Oh?” you asked, lifting your head. “Where would we be, then?”

Jongho pulled back, slowly caressing your thigh. “With you on your stomach, my cock buried in your pussy,” he replied nonchalantly. Your jaw fell slack, surprised at the sudden surge of confidence exuding from your boyfriend. “Should we skip oral and go straight to that or—?” you asked, resisting the urge to smirk when Jongho frowned at you.

“No,” he answered. “I want to learn this,” he continued. You reached to take his chin in your hand. “You seem to have a pretty good handle on it,” you complimented. “But by all means, keep going. Make me cum all over that handsome face.”

Jongho didn’t wait for another invitation, pulling you to meet his face, his tongue continuing its assault on your clit. You’d had partners go down on you before but none of them had ever been this eager. It was like once he’d gotten a taste, there was no stopping Jongho until you came, which you weren’t complaining about, not when you were being pushed to the edge every time he kissed, licked, or sucked. You wondered if he’d watched something or read something for pointers.

Maybe that’s what spurred this whole thing on. Had he been doing ‘homework’ so to speak? And he wanted to take this next step and prove himself to you? Whatever his motivation, you weren’t sure nor could you care when your thighs were threatening to squeeze around his head.

“That’s it,” you gasped, resisting the urge to grind against his tongue. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

The praise did wonders for Jongho’s ego and it showed as his actions became more confident, making your back arch off the mattress as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Close,” you muttered. “I’m so close.” You heard him hum and felt two fingers toying with your slit before sinking into you.

Where the fuck did he learn that? No, when did he learn that? “Oh fuck, keep going, baby. You’re doing so good. How are you so good at this?” you hissed as his fingers curled inside you, pushing you over the edge and you gasped out a warning that you were about to cum.

You were grateful your boyfriend was so strong or you might have crushed his head. Instead, he held your thighs open as your orgasm washed over you, your hips moving to ride out your high until your body shook from overstimulation. “Okay, baby, that’s good,” you said breathlessly.

Jongho wiped his lips and chin on the back of his hand and grinned at you, clearly proud of his work. “How was that?” he asked, sounding just as proud as he looked. You lightly slapped his hand on your thigh and chuckled. “You passed. You got an A in fact.”

Jongho climbed over you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “An A, huh?” he asked softly. You hummed, nodding in response. “Hmm,” he murmured, giving you another kiss.

“How would I go about getting some extra credit then?” 

Your eyes opened and looked up at him. “Extra credit?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Jongho said softly, kissing you again, one of his hands sneaking between your bodies.

“Gotta turn that A into an A plus somehow.”

ⓘ DISCLAIMER :: MONSTER/ALIEN FUCKER ENTHUSIAST ⓘ ©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made by me using cafekitsune's template.

[gravehags]

destroying all (and make them want it again)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: copia holding reader hostage for marathon fucking, copia being our favorite little sex freak, office sex, blowjobs, terzo being terzo, reader becoming more satanic every day :)

Words: 2,848

Summary: You'd think after almost three days of being held hostage by your perverted lover, you'd have tired of his touch. You'd think.

a/n: i for one would really benefit from being locked up in bed with copia for days like i really think i deserve that

~~~

By the time Copia allows you to stumble out of his quarters two days after your fateful visit you are delightfully, deliciously sore.

You had no idea he’d be so…voracious. Your mild-mannered awkward Cardinal had you bent over and spread on every surface in his apartment, multiple times, drawing words out of you that you never dreamed of saying. He wasn’t a cruel kidnapper either - sporadically he would leave the apartment and return to you bearing sustenance from the dining hall. Your favorite was lounging nude on his mussed sheets while he dutifully and adoringly fed you plump purple grapes, kissing you in between bites. The thought stirs your heart as you open your apartment door and stumble inside to your bedroom to collapse face down on the duvet. You groan as you hike one leg up, the beautiful ache of being thoroughly used emanating from your core and into your muscles. You’re about to throw yourself in the shower when your phone vibrates.

Miss you already bellezza mia xx

You sigh.

Miss you more <3

I could…come over?

You laugh out loud, shaking your head.

You dog! You’re relentless. I haven’t showered in days, I feel filthy.

I could help you feel filthier ;)

Copia! Not that I’m opposed to the idea but my girl needs a break, per favore. You’ve worn her out.

Mi dispiace amore, she’s just so plump and willing and perfect for me, I can’t help myself.

Speaking of your girl, she’s stirring to attention at the thought of where this conversation is going and your fingers hover over the screen, tempted, before shaking your head.

You’re welcome to come over but no funny business. Might show my face in the dining hall to prove I’m still alive if you’re interested in meeting me there.

There’s a pause and your phone vibrates.

I’ll meet you at dinner and see if I can’t persuade her. Ti amo <3

Love you

When the two of you meet up a couple hours later at your usual table in the dining hall you garner more than a few curious looks. Rather than taking his typical spot across from you, instead he elects to sit next to you. You’re midway through a forkful of vegetarian lasagna when you feel the slide of leather clad fingers along your thigh. When you slowly turn your head, Copia’s shit-eating grin pans into view and you drop your fork, unamused.

“Really? In front of my lasagna?”

He gives you a creepy nod, still holding his smile and the sight has you bringing a fist to your mouth to stifle your laughter. Reaching down you grab one of his fingers and bend it back slightly as a warning.

“Ah, my amore would never hurt–ah!”

He cradles his hand to his chest and gives you a pout unbefitting a man of his distinguished age and position.

“Told you,” you say, shoving a bite of lasagna into your mouth then pointing at him with your fork, “no funny business.”

“Oh she’s cruel,” he laments, shaking his head, “La mia crudele, bella padrona. She would watch me wither away, never to feel her touch–”

“Oh come on, Copia, you held me hostage in your bed for almost three days! This is the first real meal I’ve had in literal days please let me–”

“She does not care for me,” he says, somehow managing to give you the most unsettling puppy-dog eyes ever. “She tells me she hates me and she wants me dead.”

“Oh for the love of fuck you cannot be serious,” your cheek rests on your propped up fist, watching this ridiculous display. “I just want to enjoy my lasagna unmolested,” you lower your voice as a sibling walks past, giving the two of you a disgusted once-over, “so naturally that means I hate you. Unholy fuck, if I had known pussy was going to turn you into this I never would have–”

“What kind of fuck?” Copia asks innocently, mustache twitching.

“I–hmm. You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asks, filthy leer returning to his face.

You roll your eyes but can’t smother the smile.

“I’m leaving, Copia,” you announce, standing up. “If you would like to accompany me to bed - for sleep - then you know where to find me. Unbelievable.”

You stomp off and you can feel his eyes on the sway of your ass the entire way out of the room. He does join you, not long after that, the picture of a perfect gentleman as he strokes your hair and places soft kisses to the top of your head. You can’t lie though - a part of you is disappointed he didn’t continue his dirty old man routine but, you think as your eyes drift closed, you really did need to give your poor cunt a break.

The next morning you awaken to an empty space beside you and you’re not surprised. Copia had to wake up early for morning prayer and you’ve been lucky to have had him by your side for as long as you did. You feel his absence acutely - how could you not after days with him? - and it leaves you with a lingering sense of melancholy as you get ready for the day and leave your quarters. The first few hours of your work day passes without incident - typing emails, ordering archival supplies, meeting briefly with Sister Imperator (with whom you can barely make eye contact after shirking your duties to get repeatedly and thoroughly railed by her Cardinal), and continuing on your quest to catalog the Ministry’s extensive art collection. When lunchtime rolls around that unpleasant sadness sits heavy in your belly. Part of you feels ridiculous letting yourself be so affected by well, love, but hey it’s your first time at this, right? Gotta cut yourself some slack. Your heart aches for him but also…other parts of you. You thought for sure after the marathon he just put you through you’d be satisfied for a while but if anything it’s made you even more hungry. When you look up at the clock and realize it’s lunchtime, a low heat begins to simmer in your belly and between your legs. You hesitate before standing up and heading to the door with a grin on your face.

When you approach Copia’s office door and knock softly, you’re met with a muffled “entrare!” and open it to sidle inside. He’s on his old landline with someone he clearly would rather not be speaking to judging from his exaggerated eye-rolls and dismissive hand gestures. You quietly walk up to his desk and try not to laugh as you listen to him desperately try to end the conversation.

“Uh-huh. Yes. Yep. Uh, you too. Okay, goodbye. Good–what? Yes that will be taken care of, of course. Buh-bye. Bye.” Copia slams the receiver down and turns to fix you with a tired stare.

“Long day?” you ask, rounding the desk to lean against it.

“Stressful day, all of a sudden the fundraiser gala is my problem when it should be Terzo’s problem, but where is Terzo? Nowhere to be found, naturalmente. And Saltaria–wh-what are you doing?”

You’re halfway through sinking to your knees next to him when you blink up at him innocently.

“Helping with the stress.”

His jaw falls open and he swallows thickly, eyes on the way you inch up your flowy skirt to expose your spread thighs to his gaze. You place your hands on his knees and he jumps comically.

“Cardinale, you were very thorough in your ah, teachings these past few days however there are some areas we never touched upon.”

“O-oh?”

“Mmm mmhmm,” you confirm, grabbing the end of his black cassock and inching it up his legs. When you reach past his knees and can go no further he lifts himself off the chair and hastily draws the garment to his hips. You smile at the tent in his trousers and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“Missed you this morning,” you murmur, hand coming up to cup the curve of his cock. “Been wanting you so badly all day.”

“T-thought you were eh, sick of my advances?”

You give him a gentle squeeze and smile, resting your cheek on his knee.

“That was yesterday,” you say, finger drawing patterns on his bulge, “And while she might be tired, I certainly am not.”

His gloved hands grip the armrests of his desk chair as you lean forward to slowly unzip his trousers. When you take him out, hard and leaking, he sighs.

“You don’t know how many times I came into this office wanting to do this exact thing,” you confess, hand wrapping around him, “How all you had to do was say the word and I’d be on my knees or bent over that desk.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I-Is that so, amore? So all those times we were in here working, you–”

“--Were thinking about you fucking me raw? Mmhmm.”

Copia lets out a sigh and his head falls against the back of his chair.

“But let’s not think about the past, hmm? All I want to think about right now is you teaching me how you like to fuck my mouth. Okay?”

His hips buck into your touch and he lets out a whine before nodding. Slowly, keeping your eyes on his, you bring your lips to the red, swollen head of him and place a chaste kiss. Pre dampens your lips and you slowly dart your tongue out to taste the salt of him. He exhales shakily and encouraged, you lower yourself once more to drag the tip of your tongue along his slit. His low whimper makes you grin and gently you slide your lips over the head, flattening your tongue underneath him. You want to drag this out as long as possible, delighting in the feel of his heated flesh in your mouth so you suckle at it and moan around him when his gloved hand flies to the back of your head.

“D-dolcezza,” he breathes, burying his fingers in your hair to cup your skull, “Are you s-sure you’ve never done this before?”

You slip him out of your mouth and give him a grin.

“I’m flattered,” you murmur, using your thumb to rub against the vein going down the length of him, “But no. Just watched a lot of porn, honestly.”

He chuffs out a laugh and his head tips back to thunk against the back of his chair.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” you say, “Tell me what you like. Guide me.”

His eyes slip closed and a lazy grin curls his lips.

“Amore you could bite it off and I’d say thank you,” he groans as you lower your lips to suck at the head once more, “But–ah–I want to see what y-your instinct tells you, si?”

When you laugh around him the vibrations make his hips twitch against your mouth, and you take that as permission. Slowly, you slide your lips past the head and down the shaft and you can feel yourself dripping at the way he stretches your mouth. You’re about half way down the length of him and you can feel him petting your hair.

“Bene, amore mio,” he chokes out, “Molto bene. C-can you, eh, take more?”

You’re not sure but you’re willing to try, so you nod as best you can.

“Breathe through your nose, amata,” he sighs and you can feel drool threatening to spill from your lips and tears prick your eyes as you near the base of him. When the head of him prods your throat you swallow around him and the action causes his hips to spasm. Panicked, you jerk backwards - not sliding all the way off but just enough to where you can catch your breath - and you hear him murmuring praise above you.

“Cazzo, so good for me, taking me all the way into that pretty mouth. You’re doing so well for me, bellezza mia.”

His words of encouragement make your clit throb and push you to once again slide your lips down the length of him, dragging your tongue along the underside. This time, when his hips buck into your mouth you’re ready for him, allowing the head to bump the back of your throat as you nose the brown curls between his legs. Gently, the hand in your hair pulls you off him and pushes you back down, and you realize he’s showing you what he likes. 

“Ah, ragazza intelligente mia,” he groans, and you can feel his eyes on you as you begin to bob your head, “My beautiful girl always knows–ah!--what I like. Always–cazzo–so p-perfect for me. J-Just like that. Just like that, amore. J–augh–”

You’ve picked up your pace, the wet sounds between the two of you pornographic as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The hand unoccupied with gripping his cock, slides under your skirt where you find yourself soaked.

“That’s it,” Copia grunts, “Touch yourself, amata mia. L-Let those sweet fingers–hnngh–rub that pretty little clit.”

You do as he asks, moaning sloppily around his cock as you flex your hips into your hand. His grip on your hair tightens as he begins directing the movements of your head once more, fucking up into your throat and making you gag around him.

“Close,” he pants, “So close, a-amore. C-can I cum down your throat? Me lo permetterai? Please, please, please.”

As best you can, you look up at him and make eye contact. You imagine what he must see between his knees - you with your mouth stuffed full of him, mascara running down your cheeks, and your fingers frantically rubbing at your clit under your skirt - and the thought alone makes you cum, moaning around him and your hips bucking. You nod frantically as you continue chasing your own high and with one, two, three thrusts of his hips Copia empties himself in your throat. The way he holds you steady as his cock twitches in your mouth has you clenching around nothing, desperate for more of him. When he removes his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek as he pants wildly, you slowly slide off of him and rest your cheek on his trembling knee. You’re only half aware of the way he tucks himself back into his trousers and gently eases you up by the shoulders to sit in his lap. You brush your thumb along his cheekbone and lean in for a slow, deep kiss. He hums contentedly into your mouth and you pull away with a cheeky grin.

“Like the taste of yourself, amore? Filthy thing.”

He tilts his head back and laughs at your echoing of his words said only days ago during your first time together. You lean in and brush noses with him, moving to kiss him once more when the door flies open to reveal Terzo.

“I am here to discuss the gala fra–oh.”

The Papa’s eyes flick between the two of you and the smeared paints on both your lips.

“Ah, a little afternoon delight for my topolini, huh? Tell me was it on the desk? A classic, I–”

“Fuck off, Terzo,” you say.

His face falls.

“No, you don’t mean that bella. You–”

“She said fuck off, Terzo Emeritus. Now.”

Terzo schools his face into an expression of outrage but you can tell he’s trying desperately not to smile.

“Very well, just don’t come crying to me when Imperator asks why your work isn’t done, huh?”

“You mean your work, sì?” Copia says, giving him a look. Terzo lets out a nervous laugh.

“Ah, yes. Well. Perhaps I’ll just take this–” Terzo says, grabbing a thick manila folder labeled GALA “--and get back to ah, fucking off. Ciao ciao, topolini.”

With a flourish, he’s gone.

“Really should have locked that door,” you muse quietly, “Anyone could have come in.”

“Anyone did come in, amore,” Copia laughs, “But not only did you eh, soothe my worries, you inadvertently got Terzo to do his fucking job. Promise me you’ll come see me at lunch more often, sì?”

“Not just for the blowjobs?” you ask innocently, flicking the jeweled grucifix on his chest.

“Next time it’s your turn,” he says, gloved hand inching your floral skirt up your thigh.

“Hmm well last I checked,” you say, looking at your watch, “It’s only half past noon. Plenty of time for you to eat.”

He grins at you.

“You know Terzo was right,” he says, urging you to stand and hop up on the worksurface in front of him.

“Oh?”

“We have under utilized my desk.”

Your smile splits your face as you spread your legs for him to settle between.

“Good thing I wore a skirt then, hmm?”

He’s already hooking a finger on the gusset of your soaked underwear, pulling it to the side.

“Thank Satan for small mercies.”

“Ave Sathanas,” you sigh as you lie back and let him work his devilry.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

hi, im hoping your requests are still open😖🤞 i was wondering if you do more fluff mikey headcanons with a GN! Reader.

They are, don't worry! I'd be happy to write more of these~

More fluff with Mikey!

Let's talk about dates and what kind of dates he would enjoy!

I definitely see Mikey as the type to like thrilling dates to like, a fair, carnival, or an amusement park

You take turns winning each other prizes or a bunch of tickets to get the biggest prize. Winning him a soft plushie that reminds you of him and from that day on the stuffed toy lives on his bed. He cuddles it close to his chest whenever he misses you 🥺

Mikey loves carnival food too. Especially the sweet foods like cotton candy, funnel cakes, candy apples, etc

I can also see him enjoying beach or pool dates. He will splash you though...and then you'll splash him back until you're having an all out water war

Mikey also refuses to wear sunscreen and he gets burnt pretty quickly. The day after you get back from the beach/pool dates he's whining about how his nose and shoulders hurt, the areas of skin red and hot to the touch. You end up applying aloe gel on his skin several times throughout the day 😓

He reeeeaalllyy enjoys cuddles, usually preferring to be the little spoon. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him for a second and inhaling his comforting scent, and Mikey swears it's what heaven must feel like

Mikey really appreciates when you carry him out of restaurants when he falls asleep after a meal. If he's still asleep by the time you reach your home, you usually lay him down onto the couch and cover him with a light blanket, letting him get a little beauty sleep

There's a shelf in his house/your shared house lined with little trinkets and gifts that you've given him over the years. Some things on the shelf include: Tiny dried flowers, a ring, a friendship bracelet, the bottle caps from your first shared soda, a couple rocks and crystals you picked up that you thought he might like, and a stick figure doodle of him that you drew one day

If you celebrate Christmas, Mikey will want to spend the holiday with you. Probably asking you to go for a ride with him even if it's freezing outside

A couple of frozen hands and a frozen nose is worth it though. You know how depressing this time of the year can be for Mikey, so you try to be there for him as much as you can

If you celebrate Halloween, he will 100% want to wear matching costumes. He'll probably drag you to a Halloween party with his friends and show you off, especially if you're wearing something he finds sexy

He's not opposed to wearing a sexy costume himself either, but it would be for your eyes only 👀

Honestly Mikey would love it if you dressed him up in general. Whether you put him in some of your clothes or go out and buy him something cute, he just wants for you to doll him up

This includes pairing some accessories with his outfit and maybe even doing his nails for him, if you're willing? 👀

I mean...it does give him an excuse to hold your hands as you paint his nails soooo. You should totally do that

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

[viciouslyyearning]

Fuck it big beefy cecaelia named Akos supremacy

I'm specifically having thoughts about little differences between him as a cecaelia (octopus merfolk, tentacles instead of a tail and in my thoughts literally 2x the size of regular merfolk) and his darling lil mate the very much handsome merfolk that is you! Flowey and shiny tail and half his size! There have to be things between species that he'd have difficulty with!

Like... Say for merfolk, intertwining tails between a mated couple. It's the biggest display of vulnerability and comfort and trust cause your inhibiting yourself from swimming if you gotta GTFO! And it's very close physically some close friends or family might wrap around towards the tail fin but there's still freedom to move if ya gotta but mated couples (romantic or platonic tbh) wrap their tails as much and as closely as they can.

Akos doesn't have a tail. You do.

He'll find you staring at his tentacles while you're lounging in his cavern, tail flicking lazily with this silly smile as you're -what he can assume- daydreaming about something.

It isn't until he reads more on merfolks courting habits specifically that he realizes why. And he's both a bit heartbroken that he can't do what your fellow merfolk can with you but also absolutely beaming with pride and just so much love that you might even be thinking about him in such context.

It isn't until you find the slate he had been reviewing the topic on that he finally confesses his thoughts. Once you realize he knows what it means, you easily reply that you've already figured out a solution.

When you hold your arms out to him and give the simplest demand of "Hold me." Happily, he wraps his arms around your upper body, the quickest of his inky black tentacles circling around your tail as they always do. It isn't until you laugh to yourself that he begins to question what you're thinking.

Once you point out how his tentacles wrap around your tail, all you have to do is easily swirl your tail in similar motion and you're effectively intertwined.

Akos stares at your tail curled around his tentacles for a few moments before letting out a Shakey breath.

At your sudden concern he just breathes in relief and tucks your form back into his. He worries so much that you might miss out on something you'd find in a relationship outside of him. It just scares him but he won't admit it.

I also like to imagine that cecaelia have certain habits of their own, such as longer resting periods and higher intake of food. A creature twice the size of his mate might not notice that whenever he prepares a meal he gives them a portion as big as they are, or that every time they sleep together, they'll settle down with him certainly but always have something to occupy their time as he holds them and falls asleep, and once he awakens again they're already awake and fiddling with something else.

Once Akos finally does notice he begins to ask if you're feeling well. In his eyes you hardly eating or sleeping and that's not good.

He almost ignores your desperate "I'm fine!" For a full day, instead doting over you as if you were sickly. Once you finally make him realize,

One: you can't eat everything he gives you because the portion is bigger than your tail most days and your stomach just isn't that big, neither is your second stomach.

Two: you require far less sleep than a far bigger predator, your light and quick and don't burn as much energy hunting or swimming as opposed to him, so you'll happily lay with him every time you both rest but you can't sleep as long, you'll just keep waking up

Then he finally listens and calms down, just differences in species figuring it out and making it work I live for this shit

[erina-leah]

Zoro x Reader: Bent, not Broken

AN: this fic was requested by @sanjibby ! I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! Nothing like a good angst with some even better comfort 💚

CW: angst, breakup, argument, swearing, GN!reader

After nearly getting their asses handed to them by the marines, the Straw Hats were currently in a recovery period. It was always quiet during these post-battle days, too quiet for a ship like the Thousand Sunny. The ship was almost somber in its stillness and silence, and it always made you rather depressed.

Today was no exception. In fact, your sour mood was far worse than usual recovery periods. This time, your boyfriend was terribly injured, and it was your fault.

Zoro wasn’t the most loving boyfriend, and it didn’t take being a couples counselor to know. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, he said himself that he cared about you more than anything. He just wasn’t the best as showing it in conventional ways. His way of saying “I love you” was inviting you to nap with him, keeping you company when you had night watch, and doing his best to protect you in battle.

It was the latter that caused problems, though. You may not have been the strongest member of the crew, but you didn’t consider yourself the weakest. It always bothered you how Zoro treated you like a fragile little thing during battle, but you knew it was his way of caring for you. Today was the last straw for you, though.

An enemy was about to deal you a fatal blow, and your knight in shining green armor took the hit instead. The problem was that it was a data blow you were more than ready to dodge. And yet you wonder boy threw himself in front of you anyway, leaving him bedridden for days with a large gash in his chest.

After the initial worry wore off, you were livid, and if you hadn’t been avoiding him like the plague, you would have given him a piece of your mind.

He had just been released by Chopper today, and he had spent the last couple of hours filling up on the food and sake he had missed. Noticing that you rarely visited him while he was in the med bay, he invited you to join him for a meal so you two could talk. You declined, using the excuse of being full already, and sat alone in the Crow’s Nest.

And that’s where you had been all day, just thinking. Your anger wasn’t overbearing, but it weighed on your mind. The fact that Zoro felt the need to jump in like that mid-battle, treating you like a child, didn’t sit well with you. You were tired of feeling like a burden towards the swordsman, that idea had been weighing on you for months by now. After the hours you spent thinking on all of this, you figured that something had to be done about it.

You heard the familiar creak of the hatch of the Crow’s Nest being opened, and you didn’t move from your position on your back in the middle of the floor.

Neither you nor Zoro said a word as the swordsman sat next to you and gazed down at your face. A worried expression was painted on his face. You weren’t surprised, hey may have been a little dense sometimes but he was able to tell that something was wrong.

“What’s your damage?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “We need to talk,” you said, a crack in your voice revealing the tears that were yet to be shed.

Now he was really worried. He shifted to sit in front of you as opposed to the side as you sat up to look him in the face. Taking a deep breath, you began. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” Zoro asked. “Save you? Because you—“

“No. You didn’t ‘save’ me. You got in the way. Why did you do that?!”

“Get in the way?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that how you see it? The hell are you talking about?”

You huffed in frustration. “How many times have I told you I can handle myself? That was a blow I could easily dodge, all you did was get hurt! What were you trying to prove? That I’m just helpless? Or that you’re an idiot?”

“The fuck are you calling me an idiot for?” Zoro shouted, his worry now completely replaced by anger. “I just did what my instincts told me, so what if you could have dodged?”

Hot, angry tears began to prick at your eyes, but you simply ignored them as you shouted in retaliation. “Why do your instincts think I’m weak, Zoro? Is that what you think of me? I’m not a fucking child!”

“Can I not protect what I care about without you bitching about it, then? Because that’s all I wanted to do, and you’re throwing a fit over it!”

“I’m just asking you to stop treating me like a burden! I’m fucking done.” Getting to your feet, you turn your back on him. “If no longer being something you care about is what it will take for you to stop these stupid stunts, then that’s fine by me!”

“Hey, what are you saying?!” Zoro’s tone softened a little as he jumped to his feet and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

“It means we’re done!” you growled as you shoved him away. “You and me. We’re done. We need to break up.”

The swordsman shook his head, “No the fuck we’re not.”

“You can’t just say no, Zoro. I’m breaking up with you. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you get yourself killed because you wanna protect me. What about your goals? How are you gonna be the Greatest Swordsman if you’re dead? I care about you too damn much to let you throw that away!”

“I’m not gonna die just because I choose to save you a few times! Your my partner, why should I let you get hurt?”

“I can face the consequences of my battles just like you do, Roronoa Zoro! You just can’t accept it! And you aren’t immortal just because you have a high fucking pain tolerance! I’m not saying it again, we’re done!” You tried to walk out of the room as you wiped the tears that were now on your face. However, you didn’t get far before Zoro grabbed you by your shoulders and spun you around to face him.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me! We’re not done here!” When you looked into his eyes, you were surprised to see he shed tears of his own. He so rarely cried, just how much did you hurt him?

“How can you say you care about me and then just try to end things?” he ask with a shaking voice. “I… I think I understand what you’re trying to say, but why the hell do we need to break up over this? After everything we’ve been through, do you really want to walk away? Tell me right now, what do you want?”

You hesitated to answer for a moment as you stood still in his gentle yet firm grip on your shoulders. What did you want? That wasn’t even a question. You knew exactly what you wanted.

“I just… want us to both be okay. I don’t want to see you die, I don’t want to see you hurt. I want you to trust me like I trust you. I’ll do anything…”

“Even break up? Tch, you can be such an idiot.” You didn’t even try to argue with the insult as Zoro pulled you close to him, locking you in his warm embrace. The comfort of being in his arms again completely broke you down, and you fell into a fit of sniffles and shakes.

Zoro spoke as he stroked your hair, “I want all of those things too. We can work it out, I know we can. Let’s not jump to anything rash from now on, okay? Let’s just… talk. I hate talking sometimes, but I’ll talk to you about anything, alright?”

Feeling you nod against his chest, Zoro placed a gentle kiss on your head. “Good. Now isn’t this better then a breakup?”

“S-shuddup..”

[ckret2]

*pulls up a chair, turns it backwards, and straddles it with my arms casually resting on the back*

Hi guys. We're gonna talk about vore. In a serious and non-judgmental manner. For five minutes we'll treat it like it's not a joke kink. Thanks.

So something not all of you know about me is I'm asexual; and something probably even less of you know about me is that I'm the kind of asexual who's fascinated by sexuality and kink, like an anthropologist studying a culture with norms and beliefs that are foreign to me. I'm intrigued by what makes people's sexualities tick and what it is that appeals to them about kinks that outsiders see as bizarre or completely incomprehensible.

I maintain a strict "we don't kinkshame here" policy; I'm personally disinterested in but comfortable discussing niche kinks ranging from inflatable pool toys to the earlier-mentioned oculolinctus; and I know that when I have a writing question like "what does poop taste like" oftentimes the most detailed and helpful information will come from people with fetishes that make most of the Internet gasp in horror, and I deeply appreciate their invaluable contributions.

So when I express surprise that I got someone into vore, it's because I have a specific idea about what vore entails that comes from—you guessed it—seeing lots of vore art.

From what I've witnessed, in most cases, it takes more than just "eroticized cannibalism" to make a work "vore." Like if two cannibals are having a sexually-charged dinner over a delicious homecooked meal that we know was once human, there is something kinky going on here, and the cannibalism—the knowledge of a life ended, the taboo, the horror—is part of that kinkiness; but if you ask how many people are engaged in this sexual encounter, the automatic answer is "two," the couple eating. Not "three." The meal isn't humanized. It's an edible sex toy, a prop. It's meat.

To my mind, "erotic cannibalism" isn't "vore" until the meal is a person. That doesn't just mean giving them dialogue; but treating them as a participant in the sexual encounter. Either the subject from whose perspective we are to view the encounter, or the object of desire on whom our erotic gaze is meant to linger.

Think of it this way: if you replace the human meat with beef, is it now just a story about eating steak? Then it's not vore. On the other hand, does it now inherently become a story about eating an anthro cow, because the "beef" had enough personhood that you can't consider it "just" a cow? That's vore.

Consuming a human(oid) body doesn't constitute vore, but rather consuming a human(oid) life. A consciousness—an identity—must be swallowed. If that's missing from the encounter (say, if someone is devoured but their personhood is ignored by the creator as irrelevant; or if parts of a person are consumed, but their seat of identity—their mind, their soul—remains undevoured), then to me it's not yet vore. It's "just" cannibalism.

And so—by my own understanding of vore—I've never written vore.

But like on the other hand I have written about a cannibal who gets off to biting off chunks of his lover's flesh because he fantasizes about consuming his still-beating heart to make his beloved a part of himself; so like, okay, sure, let's be real here, I've gotten close enough to count.

The fact that it doesn't "feel" like vore to me until a life (as opposed to mere flesh) has been swallowed doesn't mean that to other people what I've written won't hit the same buttons that vore hits for them—because the edges of any one person's sexuality are nothing if not nuanced and blobby and blurry and no two people's ideas of what gets them off (and thus no two people's ideas of what makes for a specific kink) will ever be exactly the same.

All of which is to say:

Yeah I was genuinely surprised when somebody said I got them into vore lmao, legitimately my first reaction was "how tf did I get somebody into a kink I myself don't have?" BUT the fact that I can "feel" a hard dividing line between "vore" and "horny cannibalism that isn't vore" doesn't mean that other people feel it's there. It's interesting and enlightening to hear that for somebody, there is no difference in what I wrote, and I did actually, genuinely introduce them to a kink I don't see myself as sharing. I think it's kinda neat.

(So, anon who wrote in, if you're still around: I hope my surprise didn't come across as derision! I was genuinely fascinated to hear that. And I do appreciate getting this random opportunity to talk about unusual kinks on main.)

Okay, lecture over, class dismissed. Y'all can go about your day.

[dumpstermaster]

1, 4, 6, 10, 11, 25, 30 🥰💋❤️‍🔥

1. what songs make you feel better?

anything from the oh hellos. their sound is comforting to me. their albums have a really nice destiny calls sorta vibe. waiting for death by candle kid is also a nice treat when looping my playlists. it's a good hype up song for quite literally anything for me. bonus: pocket by louie zhong and bdg is 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽

4. what flower would you like to be given?

sunflowers 🌻🌻🌻 though I am not opposed to a bitty cactus. I know it's not a flower, technically, but i feel a lot more open to a succulent or a fern.

6. say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

I see that this is a ruse to get me to talk kindly to myself. Well I won't have it! /j

this is a seriously tough question, though.

i like that i actually look good in a dark collared shirt matched with suspenders and some kind of pants in either bright or muted colors. i like the fact that i am fat. i thank the universe everyday for my high spice tolerance.

I go out of my way to be kind, even when im tired. I'm a really good game master. i always try to go higher than whats expected of me.

10. what's something you're excited for?

I have a pathfinder game coming up at the start of november. I haven't played the system before, but from what I've read so far, I'm really excited to test things out. I'm also excited to get paid? I recently started working again a couple of weeks ago, and I'm getting paid a couple of weeks from now. And this is something a little more long term, but I'm excited to see my sweetheart when the time comes.

I'm starting to save up some dosh! hopefully I'll have enough to visit by the end of next year.

11. what's your ideal date?

Hehe. I see you, hon.

Mall date, hands down. I would like to spend an entire date at the mall. Going to a movie at the cinema in the mall, walking around, grabbing snacks and treats or popping by the food court to have lunch, going to the arcade, then going to the bookstore or game store or misc. knick knack store.

Even something as mundane as grocery shopping for some good dinner, tbh.

25. what's the best personal gift someone could give you?

time. just time to goof around or spend with each other.

for things that are purely material? some good lunch tbh. I love getting treated to food.

30. what reminds you of home?

getting back to me i see hehe.

You, my sweetheart. As cliche as it sounds, a home is where the heart is is a pretty solid saying. coming back to you after a very hard day makes me soft and gooey on the inside.

smells of home cooked meals too, and the rain. I miss the rain.

[pascalmode]

In The Stars (8 - The Light and The Shadows)

Hiiii!! This chapter is my way of apologizing for the lack of Azriel in the last one. I hope you enjoy!!! (From this point forward things are going to move along veeeery quickly (i hope)). Please let me know what you think! (Also, if anyone wants to draw any scenes from this chapter or any other, i would nooooot be opposed;))

Az x TOG!OC

Words: 6.1K

Warnings; None, I think. Just Asteria being obsessed with Az. Elain is there at some point. idk

Despite taking three baths, each filled with luxuriously scented oils and soaps, Asteria can’t seem to shake the bitter, coppery scent of blood that clings to her. 

She’d scrubbed harshly at her skin, only to be twice as rigorous when washing her hair, attempting to free the long, delicate silver strands of the scent to no avail. 

It lingers. 

Halfway through dinner that night, the entire inner circle and Feyre’s sister Elain gathered around a table filled with beautifully smoked and seasoned meats, steamed vegetables slathered in spices, and roasted potatoes with garlic and butter, Azriel reappeared. 

It only took him a couple of seconds to sniff the air and lock a hard, unreadable gaze on Asteria while everyone else peppered him with greetings. One shadow subtly split away from the rest, darting underneath the table and skittering over her entire form, as though attempting to discover the source of the coppery scent.

Having found nothing, the shadow whirls around the length of Asteria’s still-damp braid before it returned to its master. 

Azriel had taken the vacant seat across from the silver haired female, hazel eyes flashing with a concern that Asteria picked up on immediately. Beneath the table, Asteria nudged his foot with her own, their gazes met, and she allowed herself to offer him a small smile, enough to tell him; I’m okay.

His shoulders relaxed, and when Cassian sent him a brotherly taunt, the Shadowsinger didn’t miss a beat when he tossed out a smart retort, the entire table chuckled at the interaction. 

Except for Elain Archeron. Whose stare remained on Asteria, a slight frown seemingly glued to her lips. 

After the meal, the group moved to the living room, lounging on the couches and sharing several bottles of wine.

Azriel, hovering towards a door that would lead out to the yard, catches Asteria’s eye, discreetly nodding towards the dusk-lit lawn that had become their nightly meeting place, a thick blanket in hand. 

With everyone’s attention focused on Mor and Rhysand as they delve into a charming story from their childhood, Asteria follows the Shadowsinger outside to the area beyond the training ring. 

As soon as they sit down, the cold causes a damp-haired Asteria to shiver. 

A blanket drapes around her shoulders, warm hands lingering for an extra moment before Azriel settles beside her. 

“Thank you,” Asteria mutters, her hands, which are wearing a new pair of gloves that Feyre had bought for her before they left Velaris, close the thick fabric of the blanket around her, thankful that the spymaster beside her made a habit of bringing one out each night, though it often went unused, “Are you cold?”

“Illyrian,” Azriel states, as through it’s an answer. Asteria arches a brow, as though silently reminding the male that she isn’t from this world, and he didn’t explain as thoroughly as she needs. The Shadowsinger lets out a deep chuckle, lips quirked in a small smile, “I was raised in the mountains. Cold doesn’t bother me.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Asteria chimes, jealous although cold doesn’t usually get to her so easily. She moves past the weather around her, feeling content that her friend had returned from his assignment, like his presence had removed a weight that the female unknowingly had been holding onto her chest, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“You missed me, Asteria?”

Asteria huffs, unable to hold back her smile when she sees a glint of mischief glinting in the Shadowsinger’s eyes. She nudges him with her elbow, “I never said that.”

“It felt implied.”

“Your feelings may be deceiving you.”

Azriel’s mouth twists, as though holding back a grin, before it settles into an easy smirk, “I don’t think they are.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Azriel says, his smirk fading as his eyes direct themselves to the darkening sky, the first of the stars beginning to peer brilliantly into the night, “Because I can admit that you smell like blood, and that scares me.”

“It scares you?”

“What happened?”

“They attempted a surprise attack,” Asteria admits, shadows surrounding them growing darker, thicker, “It didn’t work out for them.”

“How many?”

“Ten.”

“Did they survive?”

“No.”

“Do you know what they were after?”

Asteria tries to draw up the memories she’d seen when she plunged into the mind of one of her assailants, trying to recall the orders and succeeding, “I don’t know who sent them, but they had clear orders to kill me.”

Azriel’s brow furrows, and his face is suddenly stone.

Keeping her eyes on the male, she lifts a hand from the confines of the blanket and removes one of her gloves with her teeth, once again revealing the scarred flesh beneath. Pulling a pearl of magic up from her well of power, letting it rest between her fingers and offering it to Azriel.

The Shadowsinger eyes it with interest, the faint light from it illuminating the angles of his face enough that he appears so achingly beautiful that Asteria has to remind herself to take a full breath. 

He opens his palm, holding it out to Asteria with silent permission. 

Asteria lays the pearl into the center of Azriel’s skin, watching as the light glows beneath the surface, her palm pressing into his.

What had occurred earlier in the day plays out in both of their mind’s eye, and Asteria lets Azriel see it all. She lets him feel the joy of the pianoforte interrupted by the sudden shock of an arrow bursting through the window of Murry’s music shop, and the clear, determined rage that had followed her over the wall of Velaris and led to the death of ten strange males. 

She lets him see each and every memory she’d pulled from one of the assailants. She shows him the life she’d wandered through before his neck snapped, and that same life ended. Every detail. 

When it’s over, Azriel’s own scarred fingers had wrapped around Asteria’s, the warmth of him blooming all the way up her arm to the center of her chest. 

She meets his eyes, expecting to find nothing but horror from the bloodbath. Repulsion after seeing the things she’d done. The lack of mercy. 

Instead, he’d softened yet again. Fond eyes searching hers for an answer to a question he had yet to ask.

Swallowing, and trying to slow her own heart, Asteria gingerly pulls her hand back to the warmth of the blanket wrapped around her, though she feels colder than ever, “That’s everything I know.”

Azriel nods, expression unchanging, “It’s useful. I can call in some favours.”

“From your spies?” Asteria is unable from blurting.

“Maybe,” Azriel murmurs, “Maybe not.”

“Very secretive of you.”

“Spymaster, remember?”

“How could I possibly forget?”

Azriel lets out another chuckle, and Asteria lifts her head, eyes taking in the expansive beauty of the darkening night sky, bright white stars gleaming above them. A sight she truly believes she’ll never tire of. 

A beat of comfortable silence, quickly broken.

Azriel speaks so softly that she almost doesn’t hear him, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I feel more than alright,” Asteria breathes, smiling as she thinks of how the ivory keys of the pianoforte felt under her fingers.

As though he could tell exactly where her mind wandered, Azriel nudges the female softly with his elbow, “You played that pianoforte.”

The memory makes her beam, an uncontrollable grin breaking across her face, and when she turns to Azriel, her careful eyes pick out the way he marks it, whatever tension remaining in his shoulders melting away, “I did. I played the crap out of that pianoforte.”

“I wish I could have heard it.”

“I can show you, if you want,” Asteria offers, the eager magic inside her already stirring. 

The Illyrian beside her smiles, the mischief from before returning into his burning hazel gaze, “I like that idea.”

Asteria is about to offer him another bead of magic, but before she can, Azriel stands. 

She looks up at his tall, lean form in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Standing. I thought that was obvious,” Azriel deadpans, “Perhaps you should ask me what I’m thinking about.”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Please, humor me.”

Suspicious, yet tremendously curious, Asteria does, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking that we fly down to that music store, and you play the pianoforte for me,” The Shadowsinger explains, his wings twitching in anticipation. 

“The music store?” Asteria echoes, “The same one I was just attacked in?”

“You’ll be kept safe.”

“You seem sure of yourself,” Asteria says, “What if they send another attack?”

Azriel holds out his hand, offering it to the silver-haired female, “We deal with it.”

“This is a bad idea,” Asteria mutters as she takes Azriel’s hand, actions betraying her words as he pulls her to her feet, the blanket wrapped around her billowing in a chilled winter breeze. 

“Probably,” Azriel nods, “Though I can’t bring myself to care.”

Turning her gaze to where the property ends, a drop off of sudden darkness illuminated only by the stars above and the city lights below. 

Flying with Rhysand in broad daylight had been one thing, the High Lord taking half an hour to assure the female that it would be fine, but this– this is something else entirely. 

Asteria remembers what it felt like to fall through this sky, and through the skies of whatever distant realms she’d passed on the way here. She recalls how the dagger felt hilt-deep in her chest, and the frigid, icy fear that came with anticipating that her death would arrive sooner rather than later. 

The memory sends a shiver down her spine, and not realizing it, the female had taken up a death grip on the Shadowsinger’s hand. 

“Don’t drop me,” Asteria meekly get out. 

“I won’t.”

“No, seriously, I fell from the stars once already, and I have no intention of doing it again.”

“Asteria, look at me,” Azriel softly utters, waiting for the female’s green eyes to connect with his hazel ones. The moment they do, Azriel’s hand squeezes hers, and the building dread in her chest lessens itself, “Do you trust me?”

“Am I going to regret answering you?”

“Definitely.”

Asteria gulps, “Yes. I trust you.”

“Then I suggest you hang on.”

“What do you mea– AZRIEL!”

In an instant the Shadowsinger sweeps her up, blanket and all, his arms hooking beneath her legs and under her back, holding her tightly to his chest while powerful wings launch them straight up into the air, Asteria’s startled yelp drowned out by the wind rushing past her ears. 

Locking her arms as tightly she can muster around his neck, Asteria’s heart drops beneath the pit of her stomach when her eyes lock onto the earth hundreds of feet below them. 

And when Azriel suddenly tucks in his wings and dives, her heart plummets even further.

“Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods,” The silver-haired female fearfully squeaks out, instinctually squeezing her eyes closed and hiding her face in Azriel’s neck as they pick up speed, far too panicked for his calming night-chilled mist and cedar scent to slow her racing heart. 

Then, wings shooting out, they hit an updraft, the plummeting decent halting completely. The sound of wings flapping steadily fills the open air, and Azriel easily glides through the chilled night sky.

“You okay?” The Shadowsinger asks, a slight chuckle catching Asteria’s attention. 

She lifts her face from his skin, catching the way his cobalt siphons gleam brightly enough that she can see his face and the amused expression he wears. Asteria curses him in her mind, unable to bring herself to speak this high up.

Chuckling once again, Azriel lets them drift closer to the ever-welcoming ground, “If you think this is bad, then never fly with Cassian.”

Asteria nods, unable to keep herself from hiding her face in Azriel’s neck once more, feeling how the arms that are holding her seem to tighten in response, a silent and unrelenting reassurance that the male would not allow her to fall away from him. 

When they finally reach the street, Azriel lands on the cobblestones with confident, practiced ease that seems as natural as the breathes that leave his chest.

Her feet on the ground, Asteria heaves in a relieved breath, allowing herself to release the iron clasp grip she’d had around Azriel’s neck. 

The Shadowsinger keeps a hand on the female’s back, the warmth of it reassuring, strong, and steady as some of his shadows flood into the cracks of a now boarded up window. The same window that had completely shattered when an arrow meant for Asteria sprung through it earlier that day. 

By impulse, Asteria’s gaze flicks up to the wall the archer had been poised atop of. She can hear the thwang! Of the bowstring releasing, the roar of the arrow soaring towards her. She can feel the centuries old killing calm flood over her, the calm beating of her heart over roaring adrenaline. A death blow. At least, it would have been if she hadn’t snatched it out of midair. 

Now, in the dim light of night there’s nothing visible to her. No one besides the Shadowsinger. 

It’s safe, the Realm around her nothing but silent. 

A silence that’s laid to rest when Azriel uses his dagger, an elegant blade he’s revealed to her as Truth-Teller, to aid him in prying off a the boards covering the window.

As soon as they’re loose, the dark haired male rips the boards loose, gently setting them aside before stepping into the shop with a light-footed ease that must have come with his centuries-long career as the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

“This feels criminal,” Asteria whispers with a playful smile, taking Azriel’s hand when he offers it to her, helping her past a remnants of broken glass as he clears it away with his boots. She doesn’t need the help, she’s proven that much, but it’s the kind of gesture that makes her heart pound a bit harder in her chest. A gentleness she’d forgotten a long time ago. 

“That’s because it is.”

“Oh, good,” Asteria snorts, “I was starting to think breaking and entering was strictly an Erilean crime.”

Azriel looks at her over his shoulder wearing an amused smile so brightly delightful that it warms the entirety of Asteria’s being. 

The Shadowsinger was often unreadable, but when he smiled…

To say the sight is devastating would be the understatement of the century. 

Asteria can’t help the breath that leaves her, not even able to comprehend what he’d said to her, and in order to recover and hopefully avoid Azriel taking notice of the effect he has on her, she clears her throat and sets her focus on the very thing they’d come here for. 

The pianoforte. 

Settling onto the bench, Asteria smiles to herself, removing her gloves and running her hands over the smooth, polished wood that covers the ivory keys beneath. The greedy side of her wants to lift it and play until the joints in her fingers ache and she can’t sit up straight. But the rational part of her, the one that had been screaming for her to be cautious since she fell from the sky, speaks up.

“What if Murry hears?” Asteria finds herself asking, a nervous feeling suddenly gnawing at the pit of her gut. 

Azriel’s brow quirks up, and he moves to sit on the bench beside the silver-haired female, his massive form more apparent than ever on the small seat, “He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“He lives in an apartment across town, and he doesn’t have any security wards in place. He has no way of knowing we’re here,” Azriel explains, “We’re fine, Ria.” 

All the questions, all the caution in Asteria’s mind quiets. Any thought wondering how he knew where Murry lived after a single encounter dancing in the square, how she’s supposed to play for him without alerting anybody, or when Azriel had even checked for wards slips from her mind.

Maybe it’s the nickname, or how he looks down her with a gaze so soft that she could cry, but Asteria realizes two things at once. Two things that are so simple, but also so world shattering that for the second time in only a few moments, the female loses her breath once again. 

The first; She trusts Azriel, wholly and completely. 

And the second; for the first time in a long time, Asteria has found something, someone, who makes her happy. 

It’s the trading of secrets beneath a glorious night sky, and seeking him out in every room she walks into. It’s early morning training and a mischievous glint in hazel eyes before taking off in flight. It’s splitting a bottle of wine and shadows calming building panic. It’s freedom. It’s rediscovering music, and dancing in a square with strangers. It’s sneaking off into the dark to play a piano. 

It’s her reality. She could be happy here. In Prythian. She could be happy with Azriel in her life. With the court she’d fallen into. 

Her thoughts pulsing in her mind, Asteria doesn’t even realize she’d opened the piano’s cover until the fingers of one of her hands are pressing down on ivory, the chords she unconsciously chooses filling the air with a joyous sound. Bright and warm, like being bathed in sunlight. 

Catching herself, Asteria pauses, unable to keep from smiling, blinking away the happy tears that had snuck up on her.

Unfortunately, Azriel notices.

His arm curls around her back, and the silver-haired female allows herself to lean into the Shadowsinger, releasing a breathy chuckle when a shadow swirls around her fingertips.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asks, frowning.

“Nothing,” Asteria says, beaming up at him and quickly wiping at her eyes, “Absolutely nothing. Anything you want to hear?”

The concern doesn’t leave Azriel’s gleaming Hazel eyes, but he does give her another mischievous smirk, “Do you know anything from this Realm?”

“No,” Asteria grins.

“Then play me something from yours.”

Humming in agreement, Asteria thinks for a second. It had been so long since she’d played that she doubts she’d even remember any of the pieces she’d written. 

But then, a memory slinks forward. 

It had been the day she’d showed up at Aelin’s warehouse apartment, much to Rowan and Aedion’s discontent, but Aelin didn’t mind. She’d been welcoming. She wanted Asteria’s raw, unrestrained power on their side. 

More than that, Aelin recognized Asteria’s name. 

Not as a part of the Cadre, not as a warrior, but as a composer. 

Asteria had dreamed up a composition that Aelin had been obsessed with, and the Heir of Terrasen wanted the piece written down. 

Asteria had obliged, and promised to one day play it for the blonde female, but she never got the chance before Maeve cast her out on that damned beach.

So, straightening her spine, Asteria closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and she starts to play. 

Last time, earlier that day, Asteria had been tentative, almost scared to press her fingers down onto the ivory. 

But here, now, whatever had held her back had been killed and left behind in the dust. 

The silver haired female plays with vigor, attacking the keys the same way she strikes with a sword; with the precision that only came with decades upon decades of practice and training. 

The melody thunders through the instrument, the music rising and swelling only to fade when Asteria commands it to, the highs and lows that make this piece so complex. 

It’s something she’d written so long ago, a gift to the male she once believed to be her mate, and for a while it was only his. That is, until he’d encouraged her to turn it into a symphony. 

Then, the piece had been played all over the continent, and then beyond. And Asteria’s name became associated with something other than Maeve, other than violence. 

Asteria Relridaar’s first act of defiance against the Queen she served. 

Focused, Asteria lets the passion pour from her, directly from her soul. Her entire body alight from the music in her mind, soul, and heart. Each press of the keys encourages the next, beckoning to her through the centuries of blood and pain and guiding her to a different path. To a new reality. 

The one she lives now. Free. Happy. 

Her soul, the deepest, most loveliest part of her, the one where her music comes from, shines. 

The piece comes to an eventual end, and when it does, Asteria slowly opens her eyes, lashes fluttering as she eases out of the trance the music had put her in, finding herself surrounded by light. 

All around her, small beads of magic, each one glowing like a small sun, hang in the air in every direction, some in front of her, some up high near the ceiling. 

In the soft glow that surrounds them, Asteria looks over to Azriel, finding his hazel eyes gleaming, seemingly glowing in the light of the magic, and a small crease between his brows, his mouth parted.

“You…” He trails off, voice a bit more hoarse than the last time she’d heard it, “You are magnificent.”

Heart thudding against her sternum, Asteria tries to catch her breath, his words igniting something deep within her soul that had been cold for so long that she’d forgotten about it completely.

She opens her mouth to speak, Azriel’s dark, mysterious beauty now completely overwhelming. 

So overwhelming, that when his gaze briefly darts to her lips, Asteria’s toes curl in her boots, and she finds her mind completely consumed by nothing but the scent of mist and cedar. 

Asteria lets herself shift closer to him, feeling Azriel’s hand that hadn’t left her back shift down to her hip, tugging her closer. 

He slowly inches down, hazel eyes carefully watching Asteria, as if expecting her to startle, or to bolt away faster than he’d be able to follow. 

But she can’t. She doesn’t even know how it would be possible for her to do anything else than melt into the solid male beside her. 

Azriel’s forehead rests against hers, warm breath fanning against her face while the knuckles of his other hand slowly graze the edge of her jaw, stirring up a warm, frenzied feeling in her stomach, like a swarm of butterflies taking flight for the first time in a century. 

Feeling her own hands trembling, Asteria peels them from the piano, tentatively running her hands up Azriel’s chest and feeling the way he sharply inhales at the touch. 

She leans up, letting her eyes flutter shut as their lips brush, just slightly, just enough for every nerve in Asteria’s body to ignite. 

A pleasant burn that only blazes hotter when Azriel’s hand slides into her hair, gently tilting her head back to a better angle, one that he needs.

Asteria knows she has no right to touch him, to crave him like the very air she breathes, and yet she finds herself doing both. And when he puts his mouth on hers, kissing her as though she’s something to treasure, she recognizes the taste of him, like he’d been made just for her.

Azriel’s lips are soft, and he tastes like mint and sugar; A taste that Asteria already knows she’ll never get enough of. An addiction that will never be fully satiated. 

Barely in control of her own body, her self-control long abandoned, Asteria’s hands travel upwards, her fingers sinking into Azriel’s thick, dark hair, the strands soft against her hands. 

Azriel lets out a low noise from the back of her throat, sending a tingle up Asteria’s spine. 

Slowly, as though it takes everything in him, Azriel eases away. A new flush of colour tinting his cheeks and the tops of his ears pink, and Asteria is absolutely certain her face mirrors his. 

Asteria tries to find something to say, only to find herself so giddy, so in disbelief over what they’d just done, that she can only manage a grin before she’s hiding her face against Azriel’s shoulder, hearing his low chuckle rumble through her bones. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Asteria asks after a long beat, her voice rasping in her throat.

“Please.”

“Earlier, when you asked if I missed you while you were away…” Asteria says, pulling away from Azriel so she’s able to look at his face, “I-I did. Miss you, I mean.”

His eyes shine with something Asteria can’t place in the soft light around them, “I owe you a secret in return.”

“I guess you do.”

“I missed you too, Asteria.”

Asteria feels heat burn her cheeks, a result of their kiss, or his molten gaze threatening to make her melt right where she sits, she isn’t sure.

Just then, there’s movement in her peripheral vision, and with reflexes like an asp, Asteria whips her head towards it, only to find a wisp of shadow curled around one of the smaller beads of magic that surround them. The shadow doesn’t balk, or cower from the light, and the light doesn’t dissipate, or shred through the darkness. 

The shadow whips around it curiously, harmlessly. 

Like a dance. 

The sight makes both Azriel and Asteria chuckle, the sound drawing the shadows attention, making it dart to the female and excitedly whirl around her long silver braid, were it stays, seemingly unable to leave her. 

“We should probably go,” Asteria says, mentally trying to find any excuse to stay in the small music shop for a few moments longer.

Azriel looks down at her, a brow quirked, “We can’t.”

“We can’t?”

“No,” The Shadowsinger says, his wondrous smile gracing his lips yet again, “Not until you teach me that piece.”

Asteria can’t help but match the male’s expression, “We may be in for a long night then.”

“I sincerely hope so.” 

—-

The Shadowsinger and the Realm Reader return to the house of wind after hours pressed shoulder to shoulder on a piano bench, Asteria teaching Azriel the music of her heart, and him picking up on it immediately. 

She had been completely surprised by the Illyrian male’s talent. His long fingers struck the ivory keys of the pianoforte with a deft familiarity that pleased Asteria to no end, and made her soul sing a long forgotten hymn. 

They’d been surrounded by music, beams of light and whisps of shadow, while they stole moment after moment in what felt like their own reality. A space, a place in time that belongs only to them. To a few more stolen kisses in empty music shops. 

It’s all Asteria thinks about when Azriel lands in their late night meeting spot, her entire body tingling with anticipation and two simple questions;

Will he kiss her again? And will he take her to bed?

Feet meeting the earth, Asteria’s hands linger around Azriel’s neck, his warm palms coming to rest at her waist. 

But before anything can be said, a throat clears. 

The sound jolts both Asteria and Azriel, the pair of them stepping away from each other in an instant, turning to face the one that had alarmed them. 

Elain Archeron. 

“Asteria,” The doe-eyed female greets, a kind smile on her lips, “I’ve been waiting to speak to you.”

Suspicion seeps into Asteria’s most primal instinct, and she can’t keep her brow from raising, “About?”

“Az, if you could give us a moment,” Elain kindly requests. The female is in her dress from earlier in the evening, long sleeved and soft pink, a few floral embellishments along the skirt covered by a warm looking jacket, like she had actually been waiting outside for quite some time awaiting the other female’s return. 

The Shadowsinger nods, warm gaze connecting with Asteria’s for a long beat, a soft smile on his lips when he reaches for her hand, giving it a warm squeeze before he heads towards the house, nodding to Elain when he moves past her and inside. 

As soon as the door snicks shut behind him, Elain’s smile doesn’t drop, but something in her gaze becomes more serious– more severe. 

Asteria marks the shift, and crosses her arms across her chest, preparing herself for whatever the middle Archeron has to say. 

“Rhysand bought a piece of land by the River,” Elain begins, “A solstice gift for Feyre. A place for her to build them a home of her own design. It’s all quite lovely, really.”

Asteria’s eyes narrow, “I’m sure it is.”

“My sister, the High Lady, asked me if I’d like to plan out the estate’s garden.”

“That’s quite the honor.”

Elain’s head tilts thoughtfully, “It is, isn’t it? There is, however, an unfortunate issue.”

“Which would be?”

“I can’t bring myself to plan a garden for a land that’s rotting away.”

The warmth that had been alight within Asteria disappears completely, instead, dread runs up Asteria’s spine. She inhales deeply, fists clenching.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Elain continues, “I don’t know much about you, just what Feyre has told me, which is that you are the only person with the magic capable of healing the realm. I’d hate to watch the land my sister’s Mate bought for her wither away because of a strange female’s irresponsibility.”

Asteria’s words are ice-cold when she speaks, “Believe me when I tell you, I take the well-being of your realm very seriously.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“If you did, I believe that your every free moment should be spent preventing the destruction of-”

“Stop talking,” Asteria suddenly grits out, Elain halting completely from the venom filled voice of the Realm Reader, “From what I understand, your immortality is new to you. Mine is not. I have spent three of your lifetimes learning the rules and laws of nature and magic in my own realm. I did not choose to be here, but I am. I do not have claim to any power, or magic, or trust from this realm. It’s complicated, but I’m trying. I’m learning. I’m doing what I can, so I do apologize if this magic that you don’t understand isn’t moving at a place that you’d like.”

Elain’s once kind smile deepens into a frown, large brown eyes boring at Asteria as the silver haired female takes a couple steps towards her, continuing, “This is beyond you, Elain. It may even be beyond me, but I swear to you that I’m trying.”

Standing within arms length, Asteria watches as Elain’s spine straightens, and she lifts her chin, a look Asteria recognizes immediately; It’s Elain drawing up her courage. Something Asteria can pick out so clearly, because she’s done it a million times herself. 

“What about Azriel?” Elain asks. 

Asteria’s brows furrow, “What about him?”

“He’s had a difficult life.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sure you think you do,” Elain snaps, something Asteria suspects is a rare thing for her, “He’s been through a lot, far too much to explain, and now, after the war, I think we can agree he’s deserving of something… Gentle.” 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you’re a jagged edge,” Elain states, “And not what he needs.”

A jagged edge.

The words hit Asteria like a punch to the gut, but she doesn’t show it. She refuses to. She doesn’t get fire back, because if she does, it would be hard to stop. 

She can’t imagine the Court would be so accepting of her if she slaughtered the High Lady’s sister exactly where she stands. 

Roping in her anger, and the rage slowly starting to burn inside her gut, Asteria takes a deep breath and starts tunneling rapidly into her well of power. 

“Hm,” Asteria hums, feeling her eye twitch before she meets Elain’s gaze. The Archeron female flinches at her stare, which Asteria takes as her own small victory, “Plan your garden, Elain.”

“What?”

“Plan your garden,” Asteria sneers, knowing exactly what she’s about to do while moving past the female and into the House of Wind, hearing the greetings of the inner circle, but not stopping to return them. 

Asteria moves through the house until she finds the staircase.

When she’d first woken up after her fall from the nigh sky, Rhysand had given her a tour of the house she’d be staying in, explaining that the two ways out of the estate were either by flight, or by ten thousand stairs.

With the rage building inside of her, and her focus spinning deeper and deeper into her own magic, ten thousand seems small. 

As she descends, Asteria mutters angrily to herself; harsh curse words and the middle Archeron sister’s name spilling out in the fleury of vexed rambling as she heads down, down, down. 

By the time she reaches the ground, Asteria’s legs burn like they did when she first started training as a child in Doranelle, her stomach flips uncomfortably, but she doesn’t care. Not when she hits the bottom of her well of power. 

Gritting her teeth, Asteria stalks towards the woods, pushing hard against the barrier of her own magic, trying to find what had been there before Prythian and finding nothing. 

She doesn’t stop trying, though. Walking deeper into the treeline she slams again and again into the bottom of the pit, trying to crack the ground, dive through it– anything. But coming up with nothing. 

Still, Asteria doesn’ falter. 

Finding herself surrounded by trees, the only sound around her being the clicks from insects and the occasional rustle of tree branches in the winter wind, Asteria sinks to her knees. 

Ripping her gloves off of her hands, the female sinks them into the earth.

Then, the Realm Reader rips her magic up from the bottom of the pit. She latches onto it with an iron grip, tearing it upwards and through her before plunging it into the Realm. 

Elain had been wrong, Asteria isn’t a just a jagged edge, she’s bloody knuckles and layers of scars. She’s more than that– She’s a blade. 

A blade that had been forged in fire, beaten again and again, and honed to perfection over the centuries. A fighter. A blademaster. The most powerful fae in all of Erilea. 

She knows it. It’s time this Realm learns it too. 

When the Realm’s voice comes through, no doubt to dismiss the female, Asteria silences it. 

She brings her magic down fiercely, and without mercy, feeling it spread out beneath her. The light burns, singing her hands as the Realm tries to reject it, but Asteria doesn’t care. She grits her teeth, pushing harder, faster– Relentless.

Feeling the surge of energy, Asteria shouts, feeling herself already beginning to tire, to burn out completely. 

So she keeps going. 

The light floods from her, deeper and deeper into the core of the Realm before whatever had been keeping her at bay, whatever had been resisting her, snaps completely. 

Screaming, Asteria watches a web of light beneath her dart out in every direction, disappearing further than she can see before a single beam of light shoots up from the earth and into her chest. 

Asteria is silenced by the bone shattering pain that explodes into her chest, the ache flowing upwards into her skull and past her mental shields as though they were made of a single thread. 

Her memories, the most painful ones, play out in her mind’s eye. She sees herself swearing her life to Maeve, to the bloodshed she’d carried out in the Queen’s name. She sees the moment she was handed over to Cairn in front of the entire court. 

It’s this moment, this excruciating sting, that Asteria knows what’s happening. 

Someone is in her head, walking through her life, just as she’s done to so many others. 

“No,” Asteria manages to grit out, reaching into her well of power for more magic, just a drop more, enough to stop this as reels of her own torture play out before her, “No!”

With a cry, Asteria whips out the last bead of her magic, the light making itself a blade and plunging into her own chest, severing the connection with a final burst of light that echoes out beyond the forest, shaking trees in its wake.

Gasping, Asteria falls face down into the singed grass, her ears ringing and limbs feeling like they’ve been filled with lead. Her heart beats erratically, and she’s barely able to draw breath into her lungs. 

At the edge of consciousness and something unfamiliar, Asteria thinks of her home. She thinks of Erilea. Of the forests and caverns she’d explored and the friends she’d once made. All the things she’d lost.

Before she fades, there’s a voice in her head that she doesn’t recognize. 

I understand now, it says, Where no High Lord or Lady would ever return, I will be waiting.   With the silence that follows, Asteria plunges into icy darkness.

-----

Taglist; let me know if you'd like to be added!:)

@bionic-donut @hollyismentallyillhelp @younxii @feyretopia @hideing @eat-cake @warzaines @brekkershadowsinger

Let me know what you think, and if you have any predictions about what happens next!:)

[joshuasearing]

Thursday 19th September 2024

Yesterday was not great. So work was awful and it all went on and was very stressful and I felt like a slave I wish that was an understatement. So basically all at one time about 4 different things happened. So this customer when I served him at the till wanted everything fresh, however I can not check he’s burgers because firstly I already have enough to do and second of all I’m not in the kitchen my job is at the front. Then when I started making up he’s order I touched he’s fries and it was hot enough in my opinion. But when I gave him the order, he was like can I get fresh fries but not in a nice way rudely. Also at this point I was already pissed of as the managers had been making me run parks constantly whilst they did fuck all. So I launched the fries he gave back in the bin in anger, and I didn’t even mean to do it it just came out of no where as I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Anyways a manager gave him fresh fries. Then he came in again complaining about the burger so I got him he’s new burger, then he was like where are my fries. Although at this point we gave him fresh fries already so he was just trying to get free ones and was being a right dickhead. Then whilst at this point he was shouting at one of are managers trying to say he was going to call head office. Anyways also we had a rude delivery driver speaking to the manager rudely. Also at the same time we also had someone refusing to park up and the police were having to be called, because they were refusing to park up and they threw there drink at the manager as the manager said we need the drink back if you are not going to park up for your food.

Then I was doing someone order which was a locator and once I finished it I walked up the stairs and as I was doing this I missed stepped and dropped there whole order, it ended up with me soaked in sprite I also hurt my knees and my hand whilst dropping all there food and drink and the tray. Then a customer very after I slipped came up the stairs asked if I was ok, and I was shaking and my adrenaline was all over the place. But I was honest and just told her it just added to the bad day already. After this someone I work with said they will help clean it up whilst I get it sorted, I just got a couple wet floor signs for them, then another person I work with got the customers food and drink remade. Whilst this was happening I went upstairs and got myself all tidied and dried off.

As the shift went on it got a little better, but near the end I was put on window one headset and window and I ended up stating overtime for about 15 minutes over as I was covering someone’s break on there and they took there time. After work I went straight home as I also felt very dizzy. Once I got home I didn’t really do much for the rest of the day. I did watch the 2nd half of the Tottenham game vs Coventry. Coventry made 1-0 to them vs us. But then at the end we made some changes and we ended pulling it back and winning 2-1 against Coventry.

Now for this morning I slept in a bit longer then I opposed to. But once I was up I got ready for the day, had some porridge, then went to the gym. Now for today I still feel really ill, like I feel really dizzy with a lack of energy. So this means my session was pretty shit if I am honest. I trained mainly legs then ended off with a 10 minute walk on the treadmill. After the gym I went to Tescos got myself a meal deal, then when I was at home I kept on checking my car, and this women asked if I was locked out of my car and I said no I just check it a lot. Then a few moment later as she was walking down the road I kept on seeing her turning around and staring at me. I honestly believe she thinks I was trying to steal the car or something. But no it’s just my ocd to its best and playing up. But she was judging me so hard.

Since being home I’ve had my meal deal, watched some YouTube, posted a couple tiktoks and also rang the doctors for an appointment a telephone one. As I have been told my levels are low. So I need to get that sorted.

Ok I will speak to you later, bye journal!

[beomiracles]

「 PRETTY PRINCESS 」 part VII ─ do you even know how to dance?

SYNOPSIS taking a wrong turn in the 4th dimension Beomgyu finds himself two centuries behind his own with no way back, though meeting a pretty princess like you, does not seem so wrong.

pairings timetraveler beomgyuxprincess female!reader warnings noneeee :3

#serene adds ✎... you GUYSSSSS things are finally taking off!!!!! I'm so proud for getting this together in the short span of two days hehe ↳ chapter index

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Dinner with your father had always been a rare occurrence. Dinner with your father and Beomgyu, might’ve just been an even rarer one. The sound of silverware dragging across  plates echo through the empty dining hall. 

Your father is far too engrossed in his meal to pay neither you or Beomgyu much attention. Sat on his right, you glance up towards Beomgyu who sits opposite you on your father’s left. He seems just as unsure as you about the situation at hand. 

You and your father had practically become strangers due to the time he spent away. Your ladies in waiting had done the major part in raising you and the king would communicate with you through the multiple council members he had. 

Your relationship with your father had never felt personal, more so like a chore. 

Finally seeming to notice the lack in conversation, your father sets his fork down as he looks between you and Beomgyu. “Well, what seems to be the matter?”, he questions and you look at him. “There is no matter at all, father”. 

The king frowns, “I return home upon receiving news that my daughter is missing”, he glances toward Beomgyu, “to find that she has been safely returned home, by a prince at that”. “And you tell me it is no matter?”. 

You give your father an apologetic look, “I apologize for worrying you, for I did not intend to cut your trip short”. Your father shakes his head, “nonsense, a trip as such can be done over again, my daughter, cannot”. 

He takes one of your hands in his both, “you are the future of this kingdom, your safety and health comes above all and everything else”. 

Of course that was what it was all about, the kingdom. You desperately wished he would see you as his own daughter, rather than another piece in his play. 

“I am quite aware, father”. You retract your hand from his grip, “I suppose you should be ever grateful for Mr Choi who brought me home safely”. You glance at Beomgyu and the king does too. 

“Young man, you have done me a great deed”, he says and Beomgyu gives him a small nod. “I am forever indebted to you for bringing my daughter back to me, should you ever need anything I will be at your service”. 

You watch as Beomgyu’s eyes widen and he blinks a couple of times before responding, “I, uh, that is very thoughtful of you indeed, but I assure you…” 

“Nonsense”, the king interrupts as he calls over a servant to pour him some more wine, “anything you want you shall have, it is the least I can do to repay you”. He takes a swig of his glass before setting it down. 

“Now tell me, are you courting my daughter?”. 

You almost choke on your food as you place your fork down, “father! I beg of you not to bring up such matters”. The king hears none of it as he dismisses you with a wave. Beomgyu however doesn’t seem faced by the question. 

“I certainly would not be opposed to doing so”, he says as he takes a sip of his wine. Over the glass his eyes meet yours. Your father seems pleased with his answer, “I hear you come from a wealthy family”, Beomgyu nods, “indeed I do”. 

“And you are to take over the throne?” the king asks to which Beomgyu shakes his head. He sets his glass down, “I have an older brother next in line”, he says, before quickly adding, “though I am educated on the same royal matters as him”. 

Your father hums in approval, “my daughter will need to marry in order to succeed me”, he then explains without sparing you a glance. “Should you court my daughter, I deem you an excellent fit, and you shall have my approval”. 

Your fork makes a screeching sound against the plate as you look at your father in surprise. He had been back less than a day and was already trying to marry you off. You give Beomgyu an apologetic look as you cough into your hand. He, on the other hand, only seems amused. 

“I insist that you take place at the banquet tomorrow evening”, your father says as he gets up from his chair. “It would please me greatly”, Beomgyu grins. 

The two of you walk toward the chambers in silence. The sounds of your footsteps echo through the large halls. “I must apologize for my father’s behavior, it was most uncalled for had I known he would…”, you trail off. 

“Well I certainly would have warned you beforehand, I deeply apologize”, you say as you fiddle with the jewelry on your arms. Beomgyu chuckles beside you, “I’m quite used”, he comments and you frown. 

“What do you mean?”. Beomgyu grins, “you’re too alike”, he shrugs. “M-me and my…father?”, you question in disbelief as he nods, “both so straightforward”. 

Straightforward? “Just because I voice my thoughts does not mean that I am…straightforward, I am just…upfront”, you mutter. “Ain’t that the same thing?” Beomgyu asks and you groan. “No it is not”. 

“Pretty sure it is”. You shake your head, “not”. 

Beomgyu grins, “alright keep tellin’ yourself that”. Silence falls over you once more. You and your father were nothing alike, you had made sure of that years ago. You would not turn out like him in any way. 

Then there was the part about the courting. You frown, what had he meant by all of that? Perhaps he had only said what he did to satisfy your father’s curiosity. And while it had indeed, it had only spiked your own. 

“Princess, I can practically hear your brain working”, Beomgyu’s voice snaps you straight from your thoughts. You glance at him only to find him already looking at you as he walks. One of his eyebrows raised he asks, “well?”

“You said you wouldn’t be opposed to courting me, did you really mean that?”, you blurt out before you’re able to stop yourself. Beomgyu smirks, “what if I did?”. His words cause your frown to deepen, “so you’re saying you did not?”. 

“I’m sayin’, what if I did?”. You shake your head, “so you did not”. Beomgyu lets out a sigh next to you as he stops walking, you do the same as you turn to look at him. “For someone as quick witted as yourself, you really are quite oblivious, princess”. 

“I am not”, you retort, “it’s just…”, you struggle for words. You did not know what it was about Beomgyu that made him so hard for you to read. He said one thing but sometimes you were sure he meant something completely different. 

“You’re…”, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth before letting it go again, “you’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met, I can’t seem to figure you out and it…it bothers me”, you admit with a heavy sigh. 

Beomgyu takes a step toward you as he leans closer, tilting his head down ever so slightly, “then stop trying to figure me out”. His sudden proximity makes all muscles in your body tense as your gaze gets stuck on his. 

“How?” your voice is barely above a whisper. One of Beomgyu’s fingers trace the soft outline of your face, pushing away the strands of hair that fall in front of your eyes. “You’re stuck here”, his index finger lightly presses against your forehead, “when you need to be here”, his finger moves to stop just above the rhythmic thumping of your heart. 

Your wide eyes follow the movements of his hand before glancing up toward him again. His expression is unlike anything you’ve ever seen on him. Soft dark eyes stare right back at yours as he smiles a genuine smile, none of his teasing evident. 

“You’re saying I should think with my heart?”, you whisper and Beomgyu shakes his head. “Don’t think at all”, he says as his hand falls to his side again, “just do”. 

Just do? Was that what he did? It would explain his otherwise inexplicable behavior. To do what your heart told you was never something you had considered. It had never been an option. You had learned from a young age that putting your feelings aside was crucial if you wanted to succeed in your duties. 

You knew that there was no point in allowing your heart to have desires only for them to be crushed again. Your life had been planned for you, before you had even been born. So the thought of something else, something different, had never crossed your mind. 

But Beomgyu made it feel like maybe, maybe it was possible. Beomgyu had made your heart feel things for the first time. Things you had been afraid to feel. Yet you never felt afraid when you were with him. You felt as if… 

“Everything’s gonna be alright”, he says as his lips twitch into one of his grins. “You worry too much, princess”. You look down to the floor, “perhaps…”, you mumble. “And you worry too little,” you add as you raise an eyebrow toward him. Beomgyu’s grin grows, “perhaps”. 

You begin walking again, “the banquet”, you say as you keep your gaze ahead. “Will you attend?”. “Do you want me to?” he asks and you can hear the mischievous edge in his voice. “Yes”. 

In the corner of your eye you see Beomgyu’s lip twitch into a smirk, “then I shall”. You can’t help but smile before a slight frown crosses your features, “do you even know how to dance?”

“Rhythm is essential”, you say as you push your hair out of your face. “That’ll be no problem”, Beomgyu smirks. You refrain from asking exactly what he meant by that. 

The small sofa and table had been pushed aside as you made room for the two of you in your bedchamber. It wasn’t optimal but it would have to make do. 

“Your left hand goes here”, you guide his hand to rest on your waist as you place your right on his shoulder. “Like this?”, he asks as he pulls you against his chest. “Ah, not quite”, you mumble as you feel blood rushing to your cheeks. 

Clearing your throat, you take a small step back. “There are six movements you need to know”, you explain as you intervene your hand with his. “Typically the man leads the dance, but since this is your first time I will lead and you follow along”. Beomgyu smirks, “you got it, princess”. 

“Alright…just mirror what I do”. As you begin to slowly move, Beomgyu follows along with more ease than you had expected. When your feet move forward his move back, when you move to the side so does he. His movements are light and flowy, had he really not done this before? 

“So, what’s your verdict?”, he asks as the two of you move in small circles across your chamber. You glance to him before quickly averting your gaze, afraid that allowing yourself that type of distraction might make you mess up. “You’re a surprisingly good dancer”, you mumble and Beomgyu smirks. “I happen to have a surprisingly good teacher”. 

You roll your eyes, “you flatter me”. You watch as the smirk on his face almost doubles in size, “I like to take my chances”. 

“Why don’t you try leading then?”, your movements come to a stop as you reposition yourself. Beomgyu does the same, “watch and learn, princess”, he says as he begins moving again, pulling you along. 

Surprised at how smoothly he moves and with so much confidence, you can’t help but gaze at him in awe. “Where did you learn to dance like this?”, you mumble half-jokingly and Beomgyu smiles. 

Suddenly his grip on your waist falters as he spins you around. Taken aback by his sudden movements you stumble on your own feet, only for Beomgyu’s hand to be back on your waist as he catches you. 

He grins as he looks down to meet your gaze, “you alright there, princess?”. Your face might as well just be on fire when you choke out a meek reply. “I…uh, I’m okay”. Beomgyu pulls you to stand on both feet before continuing to circle you around your chamber. 

“There will be a lot of ladies for you to dance with tomorrow evening”, you mumble as Beomgyu spins you around once more, this time your steps do not falter. He frowns, “thought I learnt this so that I could dance with you”. 

He wanted to dance with you? Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try and prevent the smile threatening to creep up on your face. “Of course you will dance with me but…perhaps you would maybe like to dance with one of the other ladies as well”, your voice is somewhat bittersweet at the thought. 

“Our kingdom has many fine ladies”, you add as you try and coax your voice into that of a kind one. Beomgyu is silent for a moment before he replies, “why dance if I can’t dance with the princess?”. 

You’re almost certain that he can make out the prominent blush on your cheeks. “Then…then we shall dance”, you mumble shyly and Beomgyu’s grip on your waist tightens, “perfect”. 

The banquet came around sooner than you had anticipated. But for once you were filled with excitement rather than dread. What would usually end up in plain conversation and getting your toes stabbed by your many partners, would today be, Beomgyu, just Beomgyu. 

You knew that it was getting rather concerning how infatuated with him you had become. For tonight though, you were willing to put it aside. You wanted to enjoy this evening, to the fullest. 

Your ladies in waiting spend the majority of the afternoon getting you ready. They much as you seem especially excited for tonight. You supposed it had to do with the fact that the king would be attending as well. 

Since your mother’s passing many, if not all, of the kingdom’s ladies had their eye on the king. You could hardly share their keen interest in your father but it was impossible for their excitement not to rub off on you. 

At last, you had settled on a light pink gown. It had been complemented with lots of pearly jewelry as well as a neat bow tied into your hair. “Her highness looks beautiful”, one of your ladies comments and the others are quick to agree. 

“Are you to dance with the young prince who saved you?” another asks and the rest lean closer in sheer curiosity. Word of Beomgyu had spread like wildfire through the palace. What was it that he had called it…a celeb…celebrity…, he had referred to himself as something like that. 

You’re unable to hide the smile on your face as you nod, “I am hoping to dance with him yes”, you admit and your ladies in waiting giggle in excitement. 

Seated by your father, you glance out amongst the ballroom as it slowly fills with people. Your eyes scan for Beomgyu but you cannot seem to find him. Impatiently tapping on the armrest to your chair, you frown. 

“Looking for someone?”, your father inquired next to you. “Hardly”, you say as you lean back against your chair. Your eyes continue their search for their target, so busy that they fail to notice the approaching figure until it is right in front of you. 

“Her highness!”, Mr Fitz bows in front of you and you grimace. “Mr Fitz…what do I owe the pleasure”. The older man gives a sly smile, “why I of course come to ask for her highness’s first dance of the evening”. He extends a hand, you cast a pleading look to your father, but the king pays no mind as he gazes ahead. 

Swallowing a sigh of defeat you take his hand as you allow him to guide you to the dance floor. “Ah, I have much to tell her highness about my most recent adventures”, he says as he pushes his way through the crowd, earning himself a couple of side glances. 

“I’m sure her highness will be much intrigued to hear about…”, though he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a tall figure cuts in front of him. 

“Princess, I am aware of my late appearance but you do not need to be so quick to replace me”, Beomgyu grins as he takes your hand in his. 

Mr Fitz's voice carries out from somewhere behind Beomgyu but you do not care to listen. All you see is Beomgyu, and he is right in front of you, and he looks so…beautiful. You smile, “well you kept me waiting”. 

“My apologies”, Beomgyu takes a step back, making sure to push Mr Fitz in the process. “Oh my, you ought to watch where you stand”, Beomgyu grins, “the dance floor is for dancing after all”. 

Mr Fitz’s face has turned the color of a tomato. “Have you absolutely no manners?”, he exclaims as he pulls at the collar of his dress robe. Beomgyu raises an eyebrow, “not really”, he gives Mr Fitz a smile, “though I thank you for bringing her to me, I had such trouble finding her”. 

“Ah besides, I’m sure you know the saying, finders keepers”, Beomgyu smirks as he pulls you closer. You resist a giggle as Mr Fitz gives Beomgyu a glare, he however bows to you before taking his leave, “we shall continue later your highness”. 

“She won’t have time later”, Beomgyu says, not sparing the older man a glance. Mr Fitz might’ve just exploded on the spot. Thankfully he walks off before Beomgyu has the chance to do more damage to his ego. 

“What an annoying little thing”, he comments as he pulls you along on the dance floor. “If only you knew”, you sigh. “What took you so long?”, you wonder as he spins you around. Beomgyu smirks as he pulls you toward him again, “one cannot rush perfection”. 

You scoff, yet you couldn’t deny that he looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. His dark hair fell beautifully around his face, framing his sharp and delicate features. His white dress shirt looked much like the other gentlemen’s yet he stuck out like a diamond in the rocks to you. 

“You suit pink well, princess”, he mumbles as his gaze wanders over you. Biting your bottom lip you glance down, “it happens to be my favorite color”. Beomgyu grins, “I’ll keep that in mind”. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “That reminds me…”, your gaze meets his, “you never told me yours”. Beomgyu looks at you thoughtfully for a moment, “don’t think I have one”, he admits and you frown. “How can you not have a favorite color?”. 

He shrugs, “does one need a favorite color?”, you nod, “most definitely”. Beomgyu chuckles as the two of you continue to dance in silence. “I suppose purple is nice”, he says, a slight frown etched onto his face. “I like purple”, you whisper, “it’s my second favorite color”. 

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow, “you got a third one?”. “Blue”. He grins, “of course you do”. 

As the evening progresses you dance almost all your dances with Beomgyu. Your conversation ranged from various topics and that night you learned a lot about him. It was almost midnight when the two of you decided to leave the ballroom to venture through the large castle gardens, which Beomgyu had yet to see. 

The soft patter of footsteps against the graveled path echo through the night air. You thought the gardens looked absolutely beautiful at night, only illuminated by the soft moonlight. 

Beomgyu walks close to you, his warmth emitting off of him and onto you. “If you could do anything, what would you do?”, you ask as you keep your gaze on the path ahead. Beomgyu is silent for a moment before he asks, “anything?”. You nod, “anything”. 

“I’d probably be doing what I love”, he states. You turn to him, “then what exactly is it that you love doing?” 

Beomgyu grins, “music”. You frown, “really?” You hadn’t known he liked music, let alone so much that he would only do it if he could. 

“Though our music is different from yours”, he says as he gives you a playful glance. “How so?” you ask, curiosity heightened. He thinks for a moment, as if figuring out how to explain himself, “it contains a lot more instruments, and singing”. 

You tilt your head as you look at him, “do you sing?”. Beomgyu nods as he bites the inside of his cheek, “sorta”. Your eyes widen in awe, “you must sing to me sometime”, you plead and Beomgyu grins. “If that’s what you want, princess”. 

The two of you walk on for another couple of minutes in a comfortable silence. “What about you?” Beomgyu suddenly asks. You look at him in confusion, “what about me?”. “If you could do anything, what would you do?” 

You bite your lip as you consider your answer. It wasn’t really something you thought about a lot. You had never had the opportunity of doing whatever you wanted therefore you had no idea what you would actually want to do should you have such freedom. Perhaps that is what you wanted. Freedom.

“I think…”, you begin, nipping off a flower, you trace the soft petals with your fingers, “I think I would like to be someone else, if I could”. Beomgyu turns to look at you with a frown as the two of you continue on walking. “Why?”, he asks and you shrug. 

“It would be nice, to be anyone but me”, you pick one of the petals off as you let it fall to the ground. “I know it does sound silly but…I don’t like being me”. Beomgyu stops walking as he turns to fully look at you. “I don’t think it sounds silly”, his words are sincere and his gaze soft as he studies your face. 

You offer him a small smile, “no?”. He shakes his head, “no”. 

He takes a step forward, “though, I don’t want you to be someone else”. You frown as you glance up at him, “I don’t understand”, you mumble. Beomgyu grins as his finger brushes a strand of hair out of your face. 

“I’m sayin’ I like you for you”, he says. And he says it so casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “If you were someone else then, who would be my princess?” Your mouth parts in surprise as you look at him, “you like me?”, you whisper. 

Beomgyu smiles, “yeah? thought I just stated that”. You blink once, then twice, disbelief evident on your face. “I…” 

His fingers graze your jaw and he tilts his head forward, so close that your noses almost touch. “Why? you don’t believe me?”, he whispers and your breath gets stuck in your throat. “I’ll show you”, he murmurs and before you know it his soft lips are on yours. 

You had dreamt about your first kiss for as long as you could remember. Having read plenty of romance novels and reenacted the scenario so many times that you were sure that you would be prepared for when it actually came. But when it did, it was nothing like you had imagined. 

Beomgyu’s lips fit so perfectly onto your own. They felt like soft feathers, they tasted sweet and they were right. You barely register the way his hand moves from your chin to your hair, how his other one finds its way to your waist. 

When he pulls you closer your hands move instinctively to wrap around his neck, your flower falls to the ground, long forgotten about. You never wanted this moment to end yet all you wanted was to open your eyes and be met by his own. Was this what it meant to like someone, if so you were sure that you loved Beomgyu. 

Finally he pulls his lips from yours and you blink up at him. A faint smile plays on his lips and in that moment, he is all that matters. 

“I think…I think I like you too”. 

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[thathusenfulhu]

if you miss moon cafe on a friday, here’s what you do

it's 4pm on a friday and man, i am absolutely mad with hunger. i woke up a couple of hours back, like any good dhivehi man, and lay in bed trying to figure out what i wanted to eat and where. because you see, my mother now lives all the way in phase two and i can't just pop in on a friday afternoon to get free grub. anyhow, it was already 3pm when i was done eliminating cuisines and individual dishes from my list. it was now clear that i wanted dhivehi keun. so i did as someone might – i settled for a maldivian rice bowl from rodchenko. it's the perfect sub for those who've missed the lunch buffet at moon cafe and still crave something dhivehi. to my dismay, i found out rodchenko did not open for an hour. so, i watched some russian propaganda clips on tiktok. putin. such an eloquent man. so knowledgeable, especially on his great adversary. i doubt biden knows or cares as much about russia. and now, at 4pm i call rodchenko and place my order. it will take forty minutes, they tell me. fine, i say. maybe i can watch putin speak for another half hour. the more i listen to putin, the more i am drawn to him. his charisma is apparent even on the phone's small screen. i listen to him criticise the west with great composure. of course, i don't agree with him on most points but he sounds incredibly persuasive. he sounds like someone you could get behind. finally, the time has come to head out to rodchenko so off i go. it is drizzling and so goddamned humid it almost seems like the air is giving me a big wet hug. rodchenko is quiet. dead quiet. i race upstairs and the place is empty but for me and a server who hurries to the kitchen. i take a seat in the booth, my back against a plump cushion. the dish is soon in front of me. it's an old favourite of mine, the maldivian bowl.

let me describe it briefly. there's rice half drowned in masfen, topped off with caramelised onions and sides of thelli faiy, sweet potato, and crowned with a dollop of rihaakuru. it's savoury, slightly sour, the coconut milk in the masfen adding some welcome sweetness while the chili turns on the heat. by all means, a decent substitute for moon cafe. i watch the rain patter on the large windows, thinking now of the prospects of nuclear war. the pro putin tiktok channel asserts the scientists involved the manhattan project revealed atomic secrets to the soviet union. why? putin says it's because these smart men understood that a single nuclear nation was far too dangerous and another opposing nuclear power was needed to restore balance. i finish my lunch and pay 115MVR at the counter. it costs 20MVR more now but still not too steep for a good dhivehi meal at this cafe with a russian's name. balance – i check mine on the phone. all is well.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Ron's affirmation is rewarded by one of her nose-crinkling smiles and a little fingertip-to-fingertip clap of enthusiasm. Childish? Perhaps. But it is genuine glee and all because he played along with her. Beth requires so very little to find happiness most days. Another thing that brings her joy is watching him procure their tea and snacks. The way his muscles shift beneath his shirt, the growing confidence as he feels like he's wading more familiar emotional waters. One thing Beth has learned is you can't force something if deep down you're not ready for it. They are not on a clock, lives do not depend on whether or not they eat pasta tonight or the next or the next after that. Maybe after three days they'll have to make a hard choice, but that's a three-day from now Ron and Beth problem. Now Ron and Beth just escaped the hook. Beth's attention is partially splintered toward the container holding the tea, the colours and pattern feeding an artistic streak in her soul and she thinks maybe she can get Ron to call in rich this weekend, stay in with her, and maybe paint. And if he can't bring himself not to attend his regular patrons, they could do so on his day off. She makes note of exactly how he prepares the pot so that she can reproduce it faithfully in the morning while she toasts bread and applies avocado, sea salt, and whatever else appeals in the morning. Toast isn't cooking, and doesn't come as a disaster. What might accidentally land in a bowl as opposed to a plate, and may or may not get snatched up by a dog, well…no harm, no foul. She misses the first couple words as she was entirely taken by the faeries of her Ron and plans for the weekend, and only raises her head in time to catch him saying he'd meal prep. "See, dat's really smart. Got all our mise-en-place, which Andy say means every kine in its place, an' dat actually cut out steps an' time f' da recipe." She nods in appreciation for this plan. "So yeah. T' my mind, is like surgery. Ya get all ya sterile instrumentation in place, get scrubbed up, go in ready. Very helpful." There's a delicate pause before she softly suggests, " 'F ja like, I could do most of da cutting, an' you can pack 'em into da prep-bowls. An' because ya so close t' my heart, I even letcha snag a bite now an' again. Promise dat it won' compromise da recipe." She doesn't want him to have to worry about that, on top of choosing to put it off. She follows Ron like heliotrope until he pulls out the chair for her and offers a softer, mostly closed-lip smile, the smoulder in her gaze gentled to something warm. She crosses toward him a few seconds later and at the end of his request, brushes a kiss against his jaw. "Mahalo, Kanuha." She settles lightly, still not taking her gaze off him. When he seats himself, she takes one of the Hobnobs and chews a few minuscule bites along the edges while the tea steeps. "How ya fancy stay in dis whole weekend…an' paint wi' me. You could live whole Bohemian life…. make pasta wi' me. Drink wine, mebbe scandalously out of da bottle…paint…dance…mebbe make love right dere in da parlour…"

"--Always wiv th'chocolate bits" Ron replied, his attention split between his dainty companion and the fixings for tea and biccies he was carefully removing from the cupboard. Her perking up did the trick in assuaging what lingering malice any unwanted, unseen but always heard third parties might've tossed his way at side-stepping cooking - at least for now. In these his scattier moments, when keeping track of newer processes was a trial that truly taxed, it was for the best. Better they postpone for a little minute than Ron try and force himself foreward beyond the bounds of his present capability. There only frustration lay, and with that would come a sour temper, snarling remarks that were unbecoming the affection he felt for his darling and that, bless her heart, she didn't deserve.

Down was bought in the ensuing minute or so a long-handled spoon and a cyclindrical metal tube that was patterened and coloured in a way that evoked the Middle East. Within lived Ron's preferred blend of the moment, kept double-fresh by the silver foil bag it was kept in. Three scoops from this were decanted into the waiting teapot - a glass number, this one, with a filter built into its lid; hardly traditional in its look, but Ron enjoyed watching the leaves dance inside while they brewed and it was with that in mind that he clicked the kettle on before wending his way over to the snack drawer in search of Beth's choice of biccie. They kept their stash well stocked, always. Days like this - where the simple beat out the complex - weren't uncommon enough for them not to. Commentary then-

"--Fink aftah-" After tea and biccies. "I'll…meal prep. Yeah? So i's ready f'when we wanna cook it." He fished a packet of Chocolate Digestives out the drawer and put them on the counter. Those ones had chocolate on one side, but not bits in. He went in again, just in case it was the Hobnobs Beth preferred. As he searched for them, a question escaped.

"--Fink y'd 'elp?"

She'd said before she was a dab hand with cutting and prepping activities of other sorts, had his darling, and while Ron could certainly manage on his own - scatty brain or not - it would be a more restive activity if he had someone to focus on; someone his brain could latch onto comfortably during a process it found otherwise hard work.

Out came a packet of Chocolate Hobnobs. It joined the Digestives on the side and Ron, attentive to the kettle having boiled in the interim, poured water into the glass teapot and pressed its lid down firm. Their mugs and the pot were then ferried to the kitchen table, the biccies following swiftly. Ron pulled Beth's chair out for her then, nodding welcomingly.

"Please" he said, a smile's ghost in his voice.

He was relieved that she'd understood his trouble.

[havitly]

— TRENDZ as boyfriends | hyung ver.

-> cw: none.

-> wc: 1.2k

-> a/n: this is just my opinion, and if you find any grammatical error or similar let me know, English is not my first language.

Havit

He is sentimental and just as he keeps his feelings present, he will do so with yours because he would not like to find out that you do not feel safe being with him in a relationship.

I feel that even though the PDA makes him nervous he is not opposed to small tokens of affection from you, but don't expect him to, if they are around the members this is even less likely as they would bother him with this.

Just as he is a food enthusiast, he would make sure that you eat well and in a balanced way, he would not like you to fall into some type of TCA and would help you take care of your diet only if you allow it.

He will let you wear his clothes, he knows that he looks cute in what he wears and if you both have a similar style he will encourage you to wear his clothes and if your height is smaller than his he will die of cuteness seeing you in such big clothes to you (no one would get it out of my head that he and YoonWoo have a thing for size kink).

He would take you on his outings where he visits different restaurants and I feel that at the end of each meal he will ask for your opinion so he can rate the dish they have eaten or if they ask for different dishes he will ask to try some of yours and he will give you his.

I think I'm not the only person who sees Havit and thinks that he would be the type to give away friendship bracelets, I feel that they would be pastel colors some would have his initial and he would be very excited to see you wear them since he is aware of how he looks because a lot of people point out to him how adorable he is so the fact that you have his initial on something he made for you can feel like his claim of ownership over you.

Never doubt that when you wake up you will have good morning messages because he gets up very early (he said this in a live for the Jinichannel Instagram account) regularly the message will be accompanied by a photo of him just getting up and with his hair messy doing it look much more attractive.

And I certainly see him being the type of boyfriend who gives you kisses on the cheek or the nose, if your height is below his height he will seek to take advantage of this by kissing the tip of your nose and will also laugh when you try to reach him to kiss him.

"Love you bunny"

Leon

He's shy at first, he's infp, so be patient with him until he gets used to your presence completely.

Have you seen that video where he sits on ra.L to tease him? Well the same awaits you if not more of that.

He'll make fun of anything he gets the chance to, if you're shorter than him he won't hesitate to take advantage of that, if he's wearing sleeveless shirts he'll flex his arm muscles to make you look nervous or catch you looking at him to continue bothering.

With Leon as a couple I feel that every date you go out you could not miss the photos, he likes that you take photos of him, but above all he likes being your photographer, he excuses himself by saying that your beauty needs to be admired and appreciated by anyone and him make sure of that.

I can also see dates in expensive and elegant places is the type that tells you “tonight I will take you to dinner so make yourself much more beautiful”, or I would take you somewhere where there is music and you can dance together, so Leon would look for to someone at his level in physical resistance to be able to share with him his hobbies and passion for dancing.

YES or YES he will turn your shopping trip into a couple activity, he will carry your bags, but he will also give you his opinion whenever you ask for it, shoes, clothes, bags or accessories he will always tell you what you could complement and add to it something extra to your style in exchange for this he expects you to do the same with him, since your opinion will always be welcome.

As nicknames I feel like he would stay pretty neutral, he will say things like “babe, sweetheart, kitten”.

Kisses on his temple or neck as he wraps his arms around your waist and then whispers how great you look in your ear.

"No matter how much time passes I still feel likethe first day I saw you"

YoonWoo

CONSTANT TEASING.

He is very tender and sweet, but like Leon he will make fun of you, much more if he pays you a compliment and manages to make you blush when that happens he becomes arrogant and starts talking to you condescendingly as if you were a little baby.

The PDA is everything to him. Give him anything, hugs, kisses, small caresses on the forearm or just hold his hand and he will appreciate it, it is a way in which he feels appreciated and loved by you.

Complementing the previous point, he is the type that cannot keep his hands away from your body, not in a sexual way, but instead seeks to keep you close, it is his love language and it is the way in which he expresses it for you, if he has problems with this just tell him because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

The dates with him will be quiet, those in which they go out to the movies or just stay home to watch series or movies in the company of the other while they eat fried foods and drink soda.

I see it as the big spoon at bedtime, the feeling of wrapping his whole body around you and feeling that he is somehow protecting you in that position makes him feel bigger and stronger.

"Thank you for staying by my side when I'm not feeling well, you motivate me to keep going"

Hankook

Coffee shop dates, look at him and tell me I wouldn't take you to some coffee shop for tea.

He is also the cliché type, he likes to be attentive to you towards your needs, he would take you to picnics in the spring and amusement parks in the fall because only then could he scold you for forgetting your coat and he would wrap you in his, added to this in the park would win stuffed animals for you without caring about making a fool of herself or spending too much on the opportunities they give him.

I also think that dating Hankook means that he encourages you to do things you wouldn't normally do, he encourages you to get out of your comfort zone as long as you feel comfortable.

He is the protective type, he will always be aware of your needs, of course, he is quite subtle, since he does not want you to feel that he is obsessive, but he takes care of your physical and psychological health because he does not wants to see you bad.

Every time he can, he tries to take time out of his activities with the group to coincide with your free time and you can spend time together, even if that means that both of you are just cuddling on the sofa without saying anything or only going out to eat or have breakfast.

When Hankook introduces you to the members automatically Yechanie proclaims himself as the son of their relationship, expect messages not only from him but from ra.L and Eunil complaining about Hankook or that he gave them some scolding just for you to scold him.

he will send you flowers when you haven't seen each other for a long time and when you go out on dates he will bring small bouquets along with a stuffed animal. Usually, these dates become family outings with Yechan by her side.

"Hug me before Yechanie comes and stealsme your attention"

copyright 2022 © havitly all rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission.

[heximagines]

I really like the idea of Severen having a huge crush on a girl that Homer turns actually. I think Homer would be so annoyed by it.

Oh dude yeah. He'd be big time mad if Severen started to show interest. Especially since he already lost Mae to Caleb. Let's just say Caleb's family never caught up with them for the sake of this yeah? Come on let's take a walk here.

Homer was at a train yard when he saw you. You heaved your duffle bag put of the freight first before expertly tucking and rolling out yourself. He watched in interest as you straightened yourself out and tossed your bag over your shoulder before darting off. He quickly followed.

He'd been keenly feeling the loss of Mae's attention and wasn't the most eager about Caleb officially joining the fold. So he figured he was due for a replacement. And from what he could tell you were well traveled and tough to be hopping trains. He knew the others would be pissed as the dust had just barely settled but he figured they could deal. Besides who would be out looking for you? You were already on the move.

Homer followed you as silently as possible but he noticed how your head kept whipping around to look. He wasn't sure if you were paranoid or if your instincts were just keen. Either way it was another point in favor of you coming with him. Finally he stepped out of the shadows. "Scuse me miss." You jumped and whirled around. "Can you help me? I'm trying to get on one of those trains." You straightened up and gave him a big grin, laughing. "What do you wanna do that for?"

Homer had fed you some bullshit story about trying to run away from home and he liked how you smiled and nodded as he spoke, not interrupting or talking down to him. "Listen man, I get it, and I'm not gonna tell you what to do. But I can't in good conscious put you on a freight without even a pack on you. You'll end up dead on the tracks before you know it." You reached your hand out for him to take, ready to offer him a walk home when suddenly he lunged forward and latched onto your throat.

Since that fateful night you'd been all caught up with the Hooker Clan. Sure enough they were steaming mad when Homer dragged you, dazed and half conscious but turned all the same, though the motel door. There wasn't anything they could do about it. A fact that had Homer real smug. And after you made your first kill they couldn't deny that you were one of them.

You were sat down at a small table still covered in blood as the others all smiled at you and welcomed you like it was the first time they were meeting you. "Did better than both Caleb and Mae," Homer had boasted much to the couple's annoyance. Severen who'd held you firmly at arms length since you arrived laughed and sat next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. "Ain't seen a good first kill like that since Jess turned Diamondback." You glanced over at her only to recieve a cheeky wink. Homer quickly put himself between you and Severen. "Hands to yourself shit licker!"

Severen hadn't really taken the time to admire you before that night, unsure of if you'd last. But once you'd proved yourself he found it hard to place his attention anywhere other than on you. With your interesting travel stories and a wild streak a mile wide he was pretty quickly smitten. Not to mention he found you real easy on the eyes.

Jesse was definitely the first to notice. The telltale sign being how he began to sit at your side as opposed to his own at any given opportunity. Even if you sat far across the room away from the others Severen would plant himself at your side and try to pull you into conversation. Usually by teasing you or insisting he has a story that can one up any you've told.

Diamondback quickly followed, noticing the way his eyes tracked your every movement. If you were all at a bar for the night his gaze would be latched onto you as you flirted with your meal. If you fell asleep before him he'd admire your sleeping face. If you were speaking he'd look directly in your eyes with such intensity it'd make most people look away. She had a hunch you might return Severen’s feelings when you never wavered from his eye contact.

And finally no one could ignore the way he constantly bided for your attention. Your name always came out of his mouth before whatever else he wanted to say. "Y/n, check out this idiot!" "Y/n, did I tell you abut the time-" "Hey Y/n, come look at this!" And the way he'd constantly pick up small things for you like cool botte caps you'd turn into pins, stickers and keychains he pocketed from the truck stop, any jewelry he thought you'd like off of his kill. All just for you to thank him with a little peck on the cheek. A habit of yours he particularly enjoyed.

Homer would be up and arms. Frequently telling Severen to back off, trying to embarrass him in front of you, or even weaseling his way in between the two of you on long drives or in the motel. You of course just thought he was being clingy since he's the one who turned you after all. Quickly you picked up a big sister sort of attitude towards Homer, something the rest of the clan could appreciate as it carved out a special niche for you. Severen is endlessly annoyed that any chance he has at alone time with you is thwarted despite his insistence that he has no romantic interest in you.

They argue constantly while you're not around. "She wouldn't go for you anyway! You're so ugly you could scare a buzzard offa pile of guts." "Not that I'm gunnin' but if I was I sure as hell would have a better chance than you, little man." Hearing your nickname for him out of Severen's mouth leaves Homer bristling. But the second you're back around Severen is pulling Homer in for a noogie and acting like everything is just fine, and funny enough Homer also tries to act like nothing was going on.

The others are endlessly amused by this dynamic and let it play out uninterrupted for a good few months. Life is long and they gotta get their kicks where they can. But eventually Mae is the first to step in. Sure Jesse and Diamondback made digs at Severen when you weren't around around just to ruffle his feathers but Mae was plotting.

"Hey Homer, why don't you come out with Caleb and I tonight?" Everyone is blown away by Mae's suggestion considering how the two of them would do anything for a few seconds of alone time. Homer's eyes darted between Mae and an absolutely unenthused Caleb. He quickly agreed and you shot them both a smile, glad to see him spend some time with Mae. Just before they were out the door though Homer looked back at you. You hadn't really hunted on your own yet. But you waved him off and told him not to worry about it.

As soon as they were gone Severen was just as quick to step in and ask if you wanted to hunt with him that night. Insisting that while you could handle yourself of course he wouldn't want you to get lonely. Severen watched as you regarded him with pursed lips, pretending you really had to think it over. Truth was you would jump at any given opportunity to get some alone time with him but you liked to make him sweat. "Sounds good. Let's head out now." You strode out of the motel with him hot on your heels. Diamondback slipped him a little nudge along the way that he tried to wave off.

He loved watching you feed, something about it just set him off. Maybe it was the way you'd gently brush your lips over your preys neck, sending sparks of jealousy though his system. Or maybe it was watching you tear into them with no hesitation. Possibly a combination of both. Either way his gaze would be laser focused on you. Watching the way your throat moved as you gulped down your meal. Sure he'd seen it before but not as closeup as this he realized.

You'd pull away all too soon when his eyes felt too intense, looking back at him. You grinned and he admired your bloodstained teeth. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He snorted and stepped forward his thumb smearing some if the blood from your lips. "Just a little." His hand lingered against your cheek and you took advantage of his pause to turn your head and suck the blood off of his thumb. His eyes just about bulged out of his head and you giggled, pulling back and wiping your mouth on the sleeve of your hoodie. "Gonna catch more flies than people if you keep your mouth open like that."

He grinned and ran a hand down his face. Yeah he was definitely into you.

[shit-posts-and-fanfictions]

General Creepypasta Headcanons - part 3

These are gonna be general headcanons of how I portray the characters.

If I missed anyone you'd like to see just drop a comment and I'll be sure to get to it in another Headcanon post.

Slenderman - I said it once I say it again, I see Slender working similar to the fair folk. His rules, habits, and understanding of things would be normal to him but strange to us. Especially if you take into account the Unseelie court. However, though, I don't think he is actually a faerie. I do think he is more like an X-dimensional demon. Completely timeless to us. He is infinitely old with no beginning and no end, simply existing in a time where ever he pleases to be.

With that in mind, not all the pastas are from the same timeline. Some he could have met years before and only known a few minutes and others he meets in the future and has already known them for decades. If time is like a river, he can hop up and down it with ease, never staying in one time too long or even existing in multiple at the same time. It would be why the people he takes and doesn't kill are never found. They no longer exist in our timeline. They could be centuries in the past or several years in the future and we would never know or have any ability to get to them.

Masky (Tim Wright) - (Creepypasta version) In this depiction, Masky and Hoodie aren't close or friends. They simply get along as co-workers. Masky is Slenders oldest pasta, and as mentioned previously, Masky comes from a different timeline than most pastas. Because of how often he travels through times; making Masky infinitely replaceable. Slender simply has to hop to one time frame or another and take a new version if one dies. Because of how often Masky is replaced with a copy of himself, his memory is all over the place- some may remember an event happening and other clones have not experienced it yet. Masky also hasn't been called 'Tim' for a very long time- depending on what clone you're talking to, it could've been a few years to a couple decades since he's heard the name. He practically lives on cigarettes and old gas station food. He can't recall if he's ever had a decent meal since becoming a proxy-

Because of his high standing with Slender, Masky can be narcissistic and go on power trips with new proxies and even other pastas if he can get away with it- If Slender feels things are getting too out of hand at an outpost, Masky is most likely to show up and put whoever is causing trouble back in their place. Masky also trains new proxies if he is readily available but puts them through severe amounts of hazing, bullying, and torture. A good amount of new proxies don't survive being under his mentorship- whether it be because he killed them, they died on a mission, or they took their own life.

Hoodie (Brian Thomas) - (Creepypasta version) Hoodie is second to Masky but spends most of his time as Slenderman's eyes. He fills in any blind spots Slender may have while running the outposts, and because of this, he has become an incredible spy. He could be in the same room as a group of people and not a single one would notice he was there. Like Masky, he is an easily replaceable proxy, but between the two he is less likely to get himself killed. Hoodie isn't opposed to being called Brian and has likely been called it by close comrades as a sign of affection in private instances.

Similar to Masky, Hoodie also trains new proxies if Masky isn't available or requested by Slender. Recruits have a higher chance of survival, but Masky considers them 'weaker' because of Hoodie's leniency. Hoodie was the one who trained Toby, so Masky's hatred for him is fueled by the view that he is 'weak'. He views his Tourettes as a liability to missions. Hoodie though could care less. Hoodie and Toby actually have a pretty good relationship- as good as one can be in their situation. Hoodie was a mentor and became a father figure that Toby didn't have growing up, and is one of the few people to refer to him as 'Brian' when it's just the two of them. Brian is very calm, quiet, and collected. The air around him is very still and Toby finds that comforting. If Brian is replaced, Toby is the first to fill him in on what is happening and any memories he may be missing.

Toby Rogers - Going off how he is portrayed in his story, I don't think Toby is nearly as energetic as people portray him. I do think he gets giddy and excited, but more to the extent of killing someone. I think he would find murder to be a sort of release of stress, pleasurable even. Now I don't see him as being bipolar, but he does have mood swings of sorts. Either high in energy one minute or mentally exhausted the next. He isn't nearly as overbearing either; his school and home life sucked, he wouldn't have the energy or confidence to be so loud.

I do see Toby having a sweet tooth- and not just towards waffles (seeing as he wouldn't really have the time to make any, much less an Eggo-). I headcanon that he has a fast metabolism, so he snacks a lot on especially sugary food to keep his energy up. He would probably constantly have a chocolate protein bar on him, along with candies like Mars bars, Twix, Heath, and Snickers being some of the snacks he'd have stuffed in a pocket or in a travel bag. He's not willing to share either- Has definitely bitten someone for trying to reach for his food.

Jeff the Killer - Jeff is a drunk, I feel like a lot of people have a varying agreement that Jeff drinks, but I see him being a full-on alcoholic. It's gotten to a point that he is a functioning alcoholic and reeks of booze so much so he may as well be bathing in it. He's incredibly bitter and by far more independent from the other Pasta's. I did mention some team together and others go alone, jeff is one to go alone. He has found security in some of the other Pasta's, occasionally crashing on their couch or doing favors for them in exchange for alcohol or food. But for the most part, he'll hide himself away in a safe space or even allow himself capture just so he can rest in the warmth of a psychiatric prison during especially rough winters. Without fail he always manages to escape.

On the subject of his relationship with Liu, there isn't one. There isn't remorse, or longing, or shame for what he had done to his brother. As far as Jeff is concerned, Liu is still dead. Any time the two come in contact with each other Jeff is convinced that the person in front of him is just a hallucination, nagging Liu and Sully on until the enviable fight that leaves the two bloody and on the brink of death. Similarly to Liu, Jeff hallucinates his parents; gruesome corpses in the corner of the room talking to him or antagonizing him. If he's mumbling to himself he's likely talking to them. It's best to just avoid him unless, like Ben, you know how to deal with his behavior.

BEN Drowned - Considering the age argument, I headcanon BEN having drowned when he was between 13 - 16 years of age. He is perpetually frozen in the body of his death but mentally he has matured greatly. BEN isn't much of a drinker, but will still down a few with Jeff just to humor him. Their relationship is interesting, to say the least- Jeff comes and goes as he pleases not giving much mind to BEN, while BEN always tries to find an opportunity to make jabs at the drunk. You'd think they were enemies based on how they treat each other, but BEN has gone after and tricked a few people who thought they could make the same snide remarks at the spirit's drunken friend. Jeff similarly has started fistfights in BEN's defense. They can defend themselves perfectly fine, but if one or the other isn't present for the Pasta's merciless hazing and bullying, they will defend each other.

BEN also isn't around that much- unless someone lets him out of his game, I think he spends a lot of time in some hibernating state when the game is closed or off. If the game cartridge isn't in the hands of a victim, another pasta that BEN trusts carries it around and drops it off where ever someone else will find it. BEN can sometimes get lost to the pastas for months or even years before turning up, getting passed around between victims before coming up on the radar again. When he is back in an Outpost, he does like to take time to check up on his sister, Sally. He doesn't always reveal himself completely to her- and she doesn't know or realize that the other ghost is her older brother. He would rather keep it that way. As far as Sally is concerned 'Ben' is still alive and living his best life. BEN isn't the same person anymore and he wants to protect her from that.

Sally - After killing her uncle, Sally doesn't have much reason to leave the outposts. Depending on her energy, she tends to fade in and out of our world. She can't always hold a physical form in our realm and every so often has to rest amongst the realm of the dead before coming back. For the most part, she'll be in the outposts with the other children or she can be found wandering the place of her death. Something ties her to the area and as much as she tries to stay away she always finds herself wandering back. Almost looking for something. It's in instances when she's away from the outposts that she has a reason to kill, seeing if she comes across people, and may catch one in an unfortunate situation, she will lose herself red with rage and snap back to reality once the assaulter is dead. There have been few cases and reports of women being saved from assault because of the little ghost, and so because of this Sally isn't as heavily feared-

It's also safe to consider that Sally is a little girl. I'm not adamant about one age or another, but she is 100% between 6-8 years old. Mentally she has matured by a couple years with a slight childish innocence, but for the most part, she is still just a child. Eventually, she'll age like Claudia(IWAV), and have outbursts because she is the spirit of a child with the intelligence of a woman. Her humanity will slip from her in a few hundred years and she won't remember who she was or why she keeps wondering about the place of her death. She'll be hollow then, but until that happens, BEN and other caring pastas will enjoy the time they have with her while her humanity is still fresh and intact. Whether that be tea parties- drawing on the old floors of a cabin with half-dead markers- or overall just distracting her from the current state of her being.

Eyeless Jack - Jack is another pasta that tends to be by himself. In fact, he's almost always by himself. Most pastas don't even know he exists- some have caught glimpses of him from time to time, but he's practically a passing story of a creature that even the pastas themselves aren't sure if it exists or not. My representation of EJ is by far more demonic/animalistic. He doesn't speak unless absolutely necessary, and even then he would rather stay silent. His body is also more deformed and altered since the sacrifice- The alterations are based on the demon I headcanon Jack to have been sacrificed to.

Átahsaia is a cannibalistic demon of Zuni mythology, with skin so thick and calloused his knuckles appear horned, talons and tusks, hair like quills, scales littering his back, and is even described being as large as an elk. I headcanon that the point of the sacrifice was for the cultists to inherit these features and abilities of Átahsaia (which is why they would've eaten Jack) but the ritual went horribly wrong and instead cursed Jack into a monstrous form with an insatiable taste for human flesh. His humanity has long since left him and he's incredibly bitter for it. He had tried fighting the curse put upon him, but he could only fight so long before his demonic nature took over. He can be found in abandoned caves, hoarding little knickknacks that remind him of his humanity like a dragon hoards a pile of gold.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | Liu Headcanons | Toby Headcanons