#And his hair black with a very very tiny leaning towards green

[billiesgoodgirll]

Hiii! I absolutely love your fic School Regression<3 if you’re comfortable, could you write a fic where fem!little regresses and throws a tantrum when Billie has to leave her to do sound check/get ready for a show/ go on stage (whatever you decide) and Finneas tries to comfort her backstage/ in the green room, maybe she falls asleep on him. I would really appreciate it<3

of course i can angel! i hope you enjoy <3

this is as age regression chapter, don’t like it simply don’t read !

upset

“wan mama!” you cry making grabby hands up to billie, who’s panicking greatly as she needs to be on stage in 20 minutes.

“i know you do baby, i know,” she bends down and picks you up, holding you closely in her arms.

you let out a loud cry gripping onto her shirt tightly, terrified she’s gonna let go.

“oh my love, hey hey hey it’s okay mamas here,” billie desperately tries to calm you down, she can’t go on stage with you like this.

“okay sweetheart, i need you to be a big girl and listen to mama can you do that?” billie very gently says, to the crying y/n.

“u..uh huh,” a broken whine, billie barely registering it as a word.

“oh good girl, well done,” billie kisses your forehead,

“mama needs to go on stage in 15 minutes, so i need you to be my best girl and go hang out with finneas in the green room for a little while whilst mama sings,” billie very carefully explain to you, as your face falls into one of horror.

“no! no! mama no go, pease.. need mama!” you shriek, a death grip on billie’s show outfit.

you let out heartbreaking sobs, choking on your sobs and kicking your tiny feet on the side of billie.

“baby no kicking,” she gently reminds which only makes y/n cry even harder.

“sh sh sh, you’re okay angel mamas right here,” billie tries and soothes her.

it’s only 10 minutes until she has to go on stage.

“honey mama really, really needs to go,” billie pleads to the very upset girl.

“don’t you want to go play with finneas?” she asks gently, hoping anything will calm her down.

“no! n..need- mama,” she cries out, her sobs breaking billie’s heart.

“okay i need you to take some really big deep breaths for me my love, can you do that?” billie coos softly, placing y/ns hand on her chest so she can feel billie’s slow breathes.

y/n nods her head unsure, taking in a big very shaky deep breath.

“oh sweetheart mamas so proud of you! that’s it keep going,” billie encourages, proud at her baby for calming down slightly.

after y/n is breathing normally and her cries are reduced to small sniffles billie sees she only has 3 minutes till she has to be on stage.

she walks into the green room quickly but calming to not bother y/n, who was resting on her chest in her arms babbling away to herself.

she walks in to see finneas on the couch they have inside,

“hey fin, i’m so sorry to spring this all on you and i know you have to be on stage in a minute too but please can you look after y/n i need to be on stage in 2 minutes,” billie rambled out quickly.

finneas immediately stands up, “of course i can billie, don’t worry about it at all here give her to me get on stage i’ve got her,” he replies, as billie hands y/n over to him.

she whines at the loss of contact with her mama, making grabby hands back too her.

this action completely shatters billie’s heart as she knows she needs to leave, she leans down and kisses y/ns forehead.

“bye baby, mama will be back so so so soon, i love you,” she coos before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

y/n instantly is brought back to tears as she watches the back of her mamas long black hair walk away, she sets out a sob as she squirms around finneas’s arms.

“it’s okay y/n/n, mama will be back so soon,” finneas tries his best to reassure her.

it’s no use as y/n just wants billie, she needs her mama.

she lets out another heartbreaking cry, kicking and squirming to get out of his arms and run towards wherever billie went.

“oh kiddo, you’re okay i’m not letting you down until your calm,” finneas says gently, holding y/n just a little tighter.

“need mama!” she gives up trying to get away and just melts into his arms, shoving her face in his chest desperately trying to seek comfort.

“that’s it kid, breathe you’re okay, you’re safe,” finneas coos, bouncing her up and down trying to calm her.

“w-wan.. binky an’ b..bunny pease,” y/n hiccups in between her words, her crying stopping slowly but tears still roll down her face.

finneas nods and moves across the room to her little space bag, inside its full of everything she needs and multiple notes from billie about what to do in certain situations.

he retrieves y/ns pacifier and her beloved stuffed bunny, he hands them to her and she immediately stuffs the pacifier in her mouth trying to soothe herself.

she hugs her bunny tightly and cuddles into finneas more, a tell tale sign she’s getting tired.

“i think someone’s sleepy hm?” finneas smiles at y/n, making his way over to the couch he gets out his laptop.

“seepy, wan seep pease finny,” she babbles her eyes getting heavier and heavier.

“that’s okay kiddo we can sleep, would you like a bottle?” finneas bounces y/n up and down again gently.

“has baba?” she smiles a toothy grin, finneas mirrors her smile and walks over to her little space bag grabbing a bottle.

he walks over to the little kitchen they have in the green room, opening the fridge he takes out the milk and pours some into the bottle.

he then puts it in the microwave, y/n watching with wide eyes and waiting patiently for her beloved baba.

once the microwave pings! finneas takes it out and checks the temperature,

“baba pease,” y/n makes grabby hands to the bottle.

“okay silly, let’s go sit down first,” finneas laughs heading back over to the couch, settling with y/n comfortably in his lap.

he hands her the bottle and she eagerly takes it, making little sucking noises and gulping noises as she drinks.

“do you wanna watch something kid?” finneas asks, y/n nods her head,

“ ‘es pease finny,” she babbles still fully fixated on her bottle, he chuckles and opens up his laptop putting one of y/ns favourite cartoons on.

after watching for a while finneas looks over to y/n, seeing her eyes drooping and the grip on her bottle falling loose.

he slips over her bunny stuffed animal and replaces the nearly empty bottle with a pacifier, he rocks her slightly helping her fully fall asleep.

it’s only a matter of time before billie walks through the green room doors, sweating and very worn out from the show.

“hey fin,” she says quietly, seeing your asleep in his arms she smiles fondly.

“hey bil, good show?” he asks genuinely, part of him guiltily he couldn’t be up there with her.

“yeah it really was tonight, how was she?” billie asks, the question she has been dying to ask the whole time.

“she was overall so good, she was very upset and distraught when you left but once i calmed her down i made her a bottle and we watched some cartoons she fell asleep,”

“oh thank god, she really is an angel,” billie smiles gently at the sleeping y/n.

“here bil, take her,” finneas gently manurers himself, so billie can very carefully take her out of his arms and into hers.

y/n stirs slightly, whining quietly.

“sh sh sh mamas here baby,” billie whispers fondly.

y/n briefly opens her eyes to look at her mama, along hearing her voice and lets out a sleepy smile cuddling into her chest her little arms wrapped around billie’s waist.

“good girl, you can sleep you’re okay angel,” at her words y/n falls back into a peaceful slumber, in her mamas arms.

where she’ll forever be safe.

[cherriiramen]

hhhhhh but what if everything was fixed and Joker was fixed and he was no longer Joker but Jack Napier instead after Bruce talked with him an actual meaningful emotional conversation (after Alfred sat him down and lectured him about his complicated bottled up feelings towards him) and made sure he gets regularly doses of therapy afterwards (with him accompanying him) and he tried another go at being a stand-up comedian and he was extremely successful and everyone laughed at his jokes and he laughed with them because he was genuinely happy and sometimes he’d end up having to pause mid-stage to wipe his eyes from tears of joy and then when everyone claps Bruce would be in the crowd somewhere and claps the loudest and they got married and shared custody of Robin together and Alfred slayed as a father in law and and wasnwjkwo

(whispers) it’s canon now.

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Ambassador Danny AU

Just a silly thing knocking around in my brain.

Batman halted in the door of the conference room, taking in the sight of a strange being lounging imperiously in his chair. His white hair seemed to defy gravity ever so gently and his green, glowing eyes—Jason’s eyes—stared back with none of the regard or fear so many people showed towards Batman. His tanned face was speckled with tiny stars that Batman had to actively resist becoming memorized by. The boy’s choice of covering was sheening armour that refracted the light through his chest-plate of black ice. The white sleet that sharpened his knuckles seemed perfectly capable of movement despite it encasing his hands in similar fashion to the chest-plate; glassy in it’s brutal edges and as hard as the sheets that form over the coldest of lakes. 

The watchtower had been invaded. Batman had questioned why the place was so cold when he’d arrived. Now he knew.

The only thing that kept Batman from immediately reacting might have—very much—had to do with how young he looked. A boy in the second half of his teens.

And the fact that several other Justice League members were at Batman’s back as he strolled further into the room, watching the boy warily.

The boy’s eyes were unconcerned as he watched the Justice League file in. Worryingly so. Who was he that he would be so unfazed, how powerful? Or was it faith he wouldn’t be harmed, taking advantage of the Justice League’s strong morals?

The teen had commandeered the chair with all the authority of a king and the confidence of one assured of their own position. He sprawled across it. The chairs were all identical of practical, unassuming make, but this boy made it look like his throne as he leaned heavily on one side and stretched one leg way on the other. A hand was extended to dangle off one chair-arm and he had a knee braced up, showing an armoured shin protecting his black, sturdy, cargo-like pants and iced boots that jagged treacherously upwards.

The boy smirked. “Took you long enough. I was getting bored.”

Batman resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his already protected ears from the unearthly static and screeching glaciers that came from the boy’s mouth. He noticed Superman flinch and his face grimace.

“Who are you?” Batman growled. This boy was obviously inhuman. He was also an unknown. Batman would be foolish to underestimate someone who had somehow infiltrated the watchtower without being seen or setting off any alerts. Who exuded too much confidence, as if the entire world was at his fingertips.

Attacking took the back-burner in favour of garnering information in such a concerning situation.

“You may address me as. . .” He contemplated a bit too much for Batman to believe whatever he would give them would be his true name. “Danny.”

“. . .Danny.” 

The name was so. . .normal.

“How did you get here?” Wonder Woman asked with hints of warning and aggression.

The boy smiled. He had fangs. Too many sharp teeth. He didn’t answer and was revelling in their ignorance.

“What are you doing here?” Superman asked. It said something about Danny’s energy that even superman was being cautious about approaching.

“Waiting for you.” He smirked.

“Why?” Batman pushed as much threat and intimidation into his stance and words as he could. He usually didn’t have to think about it. “What do you want?”

Danny chuckled and a shiver ran up Batman’s spine. Goosebumps formed even through the protective layers that shielded him from the cold.

“Why don’t you sit?” The words should have been innocent. They felt like a trap. “You’ve gathered for a meeting, haven’t you?” 

The league members didn’t move. Danny sighed.

“Fine, fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes and Batman was eerily reminded of how much the adolescent exasperation reminded him of his own children. Danny leaned off the chair arm to lean an elbow on the table instead, propping his chin up. He was all teeth. “The Infinite Realms wishes for peace. I’ve come to investigate the possibility of a treaty on behalf of the High King.”

<><><><>

“THERE’S A DENIZEN OF THE INFINITE REALMS IN THE WATCHTOWER??!!!”

Batman held the phone away from his face at Constantine’s uncharacteristic display of panic. It did not bode well and it settled uncomfortably in his bones.

He grunted in affirmation.

Constantine swore up and down enough to fill Alfred’s swear jar ten times over. “What do they want?! What did you say to them!? Ohhhh, bloody ****! You’ve already antagonized them haven’t you?!”

“No.” Batman ground out.

Constantine was quiet. Several seconds ticked by.

“. . .WELL?!”

“He claims the High King wants to negotiate for peace.”

There was silence on the other end. Batman usually preferred it when Constantine was quiet, but this was thick and seemed to claw out of the phone to infect the watchtower. It muffled the noises and beeps and drowned out the presence of the other league members who had stepped out of the conference room with him.

Then there was a great, controlled release of wavery air. When Constantine spoke, it was more serious than Batman ever remembered hearing him.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine mumbled to himself. “Listen closely, Bats, and repeat everything, and I mean everything, to your circus clowns.”

Superman cleared his throat. “We’re here.”

“YOU LEFT THE AMBASSADOR ALONE?!”

“Of course not! Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are monitoring him.” Batman said. 

Constantine grumble-sighed. “Good.” He mumbled. “Two of the competent ones. I don’t trust Bats not to **** this up and get us all killed.”

“What now?” Flash said.

Batman was a little offended. “Constan—“

“NO!” He yelled vehemently. He sounded a little manic. “Batsy, you have the emotional intelligence of a wet paper bag, a sad, trampled, wet paper bag with so many holes that it can’t even be considered a bag anymore, you have the emotional intelligence of wet, paper scraps and the diplomacy of a feral hyena! Unless he addresses you first, Do. Not. Initiate! Do not open your mouth! I have no faith in you whatsoever!”

“I will n—“ Batman tried to growl again, but Constantine cut him off. Again!

“No!” Constantine reiterated oh, so eloquently. “Look.” He sighed. “Getting news of the newest High King since he defeated the last one has been near impossible. All Deadman will tell me is that he’s better than the last guy and we are incredibly lucky our entire dimension wasn’t wiped out after that stunt the American government pulled with the Anti-ecto Acts.”

Batman saw some of the leaguers pale. He suddenly wasn’t feeling the best either.

“Anti-Ecto Acts?”

“Laws declaring their species non-sentient and illegal, I dealt with it, thing is, this is an extremely delicate situation.” He stressed. “We don’t know what kind of ruler he is, what little thing might set him off, and we cannot afford to set the High King off! Capiche?! It’s a good sign that he’s willing to negotiate peace, but he could change his mind. Some ghosts are very temperamental.”

“Ghosts.” Several of the leaguers repeated. Constantine let out an incredibly exasperated sound.

“Do you idiots know nothing?! Yes, ghosts! The Infinite Realms is the dimension between dimensions, the land of the dead and the never-born! They are incredibly powerful entities and many of them could level our planet easily! Whatever you do, DO NOT ask how they’ve died! It is highly taboo and you’ll get yourselves killed!” Constantine let out a stressed groan.

“I would come back and deal with this myself, but I am. . .occupied at the moment. Don’t try to negotiate without me! You lot will muck everything up! And seriously, DO NOT ASK HOW THEY’VE DIED! Keep the Ambassador happy until I can get there, convince him to stay! We might not have another chance like this, don’t annoy them, do not ignore them, and, just in general, don’t give the ambassador any reason to deliver anything negative to King Phantom and have him erase us all, got it?”

The Justice League exchanged several, stunned looks.

“Got it?”

Batman grunted.

“Good. And Bats.” Constantine added lowly. “If this fails, I am blaming you for the end of the world.”

Constantine ended the call and the phone beeped before drowning everyone in silence. The leaguers shared more looks.

“Now what?” Hal said.

[naffeclipse]

Speakeasy

Reader x Mob Bosses!Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Many thanks to Anonymous for letting me go ham with the mob boss brothers and making them absolutely dastardly! I love the scenario for this one and just how sinister but sweet Sun and Moon can be when they have their favorite little thing sitting in their laps. The boys just love to show off what's theirs.

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You are anxious, to say the least. Two large hands escort you. One rests on your shoulder, the animatronic’s off-white and yellow thumb sliding slightly underneath the neckline of your dress to stroke the bare skin of your shoulder. The other is on your waist, dark blue and silver, keeping you close despite your urge to race straight out of the speakeasy.

The mob bosses smile down at you with the wicked, wide smiles of sharks. In no uncertain terms, they are keeping you with them.

Swallowing your visible nervousness becomes hazardous as you realize that the illegal venue is very much open for business. Instead of a nightlife of posh people prepared to spend exuberant amounts of money on smoking and drinks, then swing away on the dance floor open before a small stage for a band, there are gangsters everywhere. They line the bar stools, sit in the plush, rich leather couches and seats, and musicians play low, soft jazz as if to not disturb the entrance of the crime lords of the Celestial Gang.

Your throat becomes thick as you smell cigarettes and alcohol and sharp, overapplied cologne. Low lights burn yellow and cast thick, clogging shadows around the open room. Several animatronics already flank a center sitting room away from the bar and dance floor. Human men dressed in sleazy suits quickly move towards the mob bosses. 

The small swarm settles when Sun and Moon escort you to a fine, black leather couch big enough for just the three of you. You bow your head under the scorching attention, all eyes seemingly upon the outsider their bosses brought along to the business meeting. Your hair falls into your face as a brief curtain to the overwhelming atmosphere. 

How did you get here? One moment, you’re researching the famed Celestial Gang for a column in the newspaper which pays you well to find the best, most reliable information, and the next, you were ‘borrowed’ by none other than Sun and Moon. The crime lords have done dark and dirty deeds to keep themselves high in the underground. Why kidnap you for a few days just to put you in a red dress and take you into the heart of their illegal dealings?

“Take a seat, love.” Sun presses close to your ear, warming your face when his faceplate touches the corner of your cheekbone.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Moon’s rough voice touches you. He lifts a hand and removes the shield of your hair and sweeps it behind your face, exposing your freckles and wide, green eyes. “What would you like? A drink, perhaps, my dear?”

You recoil, revealed by force once more to the many eyes, but the real danger is the ones with their hands on you, refusing to allow you to escape. A stutter begins in your throat. Swallowing it down, you force yourself to say in a tiny, demure voice, “No, thank you.”

“Later then.” Sun nods his sharp sun rays towards a man behind the bar. He moves swiftly, his hands flying out of sight. 

Sun and Moon promptly set you down on the couch, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what a minnow feels when crowded by two sharks as they take their seats on either side of you. Caging you with their bodies, your eyes widen at how they press their legs against yours. 

Sun leans forward in the slightest to take your hand between his own and unfurl the anxious fist you made. Moon leans deeper against the backrest and slides his arm behind you, cradling your waist. Stiffening, you hold as still as a doe deer in the sights of a hunter. All the while, every last goon stares down the three of you but not a word nor electric breath leaves those who await their bosses’ command.

The man behind the bar emerges carrying a silver tray with one lowball glass filled with a rich amber liquid. Close beside it is a dark blue pack of cigarettes.

You shift in your red dress as the bartender approaches. The fabric of your gown is rich and built to flare out when dancing. You didn’t want to put this on—no matter how lovely—but Sun and Moon cowed you with firm reminders. While they’re ‘borrowing’ you, they intend to dress you as they please. 

The checkered shrug was all you could manage. It took much to convince them to allow you to wear it but you pleaded, and they seem to enjoy it, much to your embarrassment.

The bartender bows and offers the tray to Sun first. Strangely, the animatronic accepts the glass while containing your hand in his other grasp. The amber liquid swirls between his nimble fingers. The bartender crosses to the other side of the couch. Moon tilts his head. His red eyes glance at the offering in approval before plucking the pack and immediately opening it.

Your mind spins with how they might indulge in the very human vices, but to your amazement, it seems to be a sort of ritual. There’s something ceremonial about the presentation. The enjoyment of something refined and toxic without partaking.

You watch the liquor glimmer in the crystalline cup. Sun pale eyes, sharp and dagger-like, pierce you with a glance.

“It’s bourbon, dollface.” He tips the glass closer, offering it to your lips. “You couldn’t imagine how much blood and money went into acquiring this one small glass. Would you like a taste?”

You flick your gaze up. He leans over you, crowding you, dwarfing you until you’re almost sliding onto Moon’s lap. His brother eagerly keeps you in place as Sun studies you. His smile holds an edge while he squeezes your hand in the slightest.

“I shouldn’t,” you murmur, but you shrink as you speak.

Sun’s eyes flash like the tip of a blade. He lowers the glass closer still to your mouth until a rich aroma spills upward and invades your senses. 

“Oh, but I say you should.” His grin bears down upon you. “No one touches my bourbon but I do want to know if it’s as worthwhile as the bottle says. One sip, turtle dove.”

You hold his gaze, almost trembling. It won’t kill you, certainly, but this is more than the pressure of a drink.

“Okay,” you concede meekly.

Sun’s smile is lethal as he presents it to you. Gazing into the amber liquid, you lean forward, unable to even hold the glass as Sun carefully presses it to your mouth and gently tilts it. A sweet spiciness spills over your tongue, reminding you of the solar crime lord. You merely wet your lips before it smoothly slides down your throat before you turn your head away. Sun allows it, satisfied with a sharp electric click of his tongue.

“How does it taste?” he purrs, catching your chin and lifting it higher as he admires you. A flutter overtakes your middle.

“Expensive,” you manage, “and strong.”

Tilting his head, Sun’s grin widens as his voice enters a growl so sweet it matches the bourbon’s flavor, “Good. It’s earned all the blood and money I spent on it.”

A few bodies shift from foot to foot and animatronics blink a few optics. Mercifully, Sun releases your chin. Again, you duck your face to hide as the liquor cools your stomach. Only a few drops and you already feel strange and tiny like a trapped rat.

Moon flicks a lighter. The sharp spark of it catching causes you to jump, and Moon chuckles a dark, rolling sound deep within his chassis.

“Relax, baby.” His red eyes search through the curtain of your hair. “You’re in good hands.”

You take a long strand of hair hanging in your face and begin twirling it around your finger. Twisting and twisting the lock, you watch Moon methodically pick a cigarette from the pack using one hand. Slowly, he slides his arm out from behind you. A dark pulse to his gaze washes down you until he reaches for your face and sweeps back the hair dangling in front of you.

“Look me in the eyes. You’re too pretty to hide from me,” he says in both warning and affection, and it chills you to the bone. “Don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” you breathe. Every function within you shrivels under the intensity of his red eyes holding you captive.

His fingertips slide over your cheekbones, lingering for a moment as if he might count every freckle dusting your skin. You tremble inwardly. Moon shifts the cigarette dexterously to his fingers. Holding it steady, he leans forward.

“Be a doll,” Moon rasps. He’s not asking.

“I—” you take a deep breath, your heart pumping hard. “I don’t smoke.”

“I know, my dear,” Moon chuckles sinisterly. You do not doubt that he does. “You’re going to help me light it, nothing more.”

A part of you writhes but you can do little but part your lips. Your fingers twitch as if you had a hope of taking it yourself, but Sun’s firm grasp on your hand is thick as shackles and Moon is as unyielding as a cold night.

He sets it softly on your lips. Unfamiliar with such a ritual, you freeze as Moon holds out the pale flame. He cups it, looming over you while he sets the end aglow with red-hot heat, and all the while, his eyes are devouring you whole.

“Hold still,” Moon commands. 

He lights it, and on instinct, you inhale. A poor choice, considering the flood of smoke that quickly sets fire to your lungs with a singing flavor of anise. A fierce cough overtakes you. Moon takes the cigarette from your lips as Sun tuts his tongue. 

“Naughty thing,” Moon chastises as he allows you to finish your fit, but he draws the cigarette away from you, holding it perfectly between his fingers while his other hand roams your back, hitting softly until you, at last, expel the last of the forsaking tobacco now staining you fiercely.

“You need to be good, love,” Sun reminds close to your ear. His digit plays with the dangling jewelry hanging from your earlobe. A shiny, silver sword. “What are we to do with you if you can’t behave?”

You choke but for a far different reason.

“I’ll be good,” you say, unable to get out anything else but whatever might please them.

“That’s all we ask, baby.” Moon’s hand slips under your chin to turn you towards him. Your lips part as he squeezes in the slightest, and you feel like a fish with your lips puffed into a pout. “Business will only take a moment, then we’ll get back to you.”

You bleed a fierce blush at how he holds you, his eyes commanding you without restraint. You utter a pathetic sound of agreement before the crime lords share a look.

They keep you firmly in place all the while they conduct the mafia meeting. Throughout, Sun’s and Moon’s hands are constantly upon you. Sun speaks of numbers, how well the handling of merchandise such as alcohol has transpired and Moon focuses on conflict, the safety of the gang and the casualties suffered, and how to strike back against those who crossed the line against them. You listen, feeling little more than a plaything in their palms. Moon rubs your side gently. Sun traces his thumb over your knuckles. You endure their forced closeness, unable to even hide behind the curtain of your hair as per their warning.

Then, at last, Sun and Moon lean back with a sort of finality. The goons relax in the slightest, able to ease off from their strict attentiveness before a slow murmur of talk stirs the air. The music picks up a touch louder. A slow, smooth sound of jazz that fills you to the brim. You can hardly unclench your jaw before Sun and Moon share a look so devilish, you fear for your soul.

“We worked hard today, Sun,” Moon drawls out sinisterly.

“We have. We need a reward,” Sun hums, pleased and dastardly. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask, your heart racing within you.

“A dance, of course, dollface.” Sun takes your hand and lifts it high. Moon captures your other before you register how they lift you from the couch in one swift motion.

You reel as they escort you to the dance floor. One flick of Moon’s hand commands the musicians to turn up the music, and the gangsters’ eyes follow you as you’re pulled onto the last place you want to be. The dance floor. 

In one sure motion, Sun begins to remove the shrug from your shoulders. Any resistance you might have made is cut by Moon holding you in place by your chin until Sun carelessly tosses the checkered cloth off to the side. 

“Beautiful,” Moon announces. His thumb finds the tattoo of a quill on your right bicep and strokes it adoringly. You shiver under the caress.

You freeze when another presence falls into your shadow.

“Lovely little thing,” Sun says as he traces a finger along the line of your bare shoulder. Another shudder rolls down your spine.

You turn as if you might escape but Sun seizes you by the hip and lifts your arm high, twirling you until the world is a blur of low light and smoky haze, and dips you. You gasp. The same nefarious hands catch you by the waist, bowing so close to your face, the sharp crown framing Sun’s head in sharp, yellow rays takes over your vision. A blush fills you to the brim.

“There’s nothing to fear, love. We’ll lead,” Sun reassures you with a laugh that flips your heart. “Won’t we, Moon?”

“We will.” Moon answers by stealing you away into a swift step that leaves you dizzy and with a head rush. He half drags, half carries you with a tight grip on your hands. You can barely catch up. 

You flush, trying to protest that you want to leave, now, and stop being a shining new toy to show off to their underlings, but there’s no denying the crime lords. Moon sweeps your feet off the ground as he grabs your waist and lifts you in a half circle. The red fabric of your dress flares out. Your stomach drops and your heart soars.

Then you’re back on your feet. Breathless, left spinning after Sun’s dip and Moon’s twist, you can hardly register the closeness until both mob bosses are upon you. At your back, Sun clasps your hand, holding it behind your waist as if he intends to pin you against his brother. Moon likewise captures your other hand, holding it shoulder-level. Two palms fall to your hips, and in a strange, electrifying motion, Sun and Moon force you to dance with both of them.

“How do you know how to do this?” is all you can gasp. It’s too perfect. Too prepared. Sun looms over your shoulder with a lethal warmth while you turn your cheek as if you might keep both of them in your vision. Moon presses closer to you, hanging over you like the cool threat of a storm.

“We have thought long and hard about what we might do with a troublemaker like you,” Sun speaks low into your ear. “You’ve been learning too much, turtle dove.”

You stiffen in the slightest. Despite this, your feet are caught in their rhythm, slowly spinning in time to the romantic tune floating in the air.

“What?” you breathe. “How did you—”

“We have our ways,” Moon reminds. He tilts his head, his fedora covering the lowlight and shadowing his face even deeper. 

They know. You found out their relation to their elder brother. The police chief.

You also found that they haven’t spoken to each other in years.

Your pulse picks up in horror. This is what this has been about. This whole time, the cat-and-mouse game, is because they’re going to kill you.

“Please,” you say, trembling. Their hands squeeze your own. 

“Hm? Speak up, love,” Sun laughs, taunting you. “I can’t hear you.”

“Don’t kill me,” you say it starkly, quietly. Your eyes are wide. There is nowhere to hide while they trap you between their chassis. 

Moon stares at you, his red eyes darkening into crimson before he releases your waist and slowly leans down. He captures your face between his palms. With Sun holding you in place, there is nowhere to run. You close your eyes.

A brush of something cool and tasting of anise falls against your lips. You start under the lunar crime lord’s kiss. When you open your eyes, his grin is pleased, wicked. He holds you a moment longer under his sharp teeth.

“That would be a waste, don’t you think?” he rasps.

Sun grunts something before he spins you around by the hips. Moon allows him, and he takes you by the waist to keep you on your feet while Sun looks upon you with desire so fiery, that you fear it will engulf you. His pale eyes gnaw away at your every edge.

“I thought…” you murmur senselessly. 

“You thought wrong.” Sun presses a finger to your lips with a wicked grin. “I need to take a bite out of you too.”

This time, your eyes are wide open when he bends down to press his faceplate to your lips, and you gasp underneath his hungry kiss. He pushes and pulls, and you almost sway were it not for the Moon stabilizing you. Sun releases you slowly, greedily.

“That’s right, dollface,” Sun purrs as Moon presses close and kisses the back of your neck. “We have plans for you.”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

7:10 AM | Timestamp

Pairing: Dad!Jung Wooyoung x Mum!Reader Synopsis: Wooyoung's favourite girls surprise him for his birthday. Requested by: No one Warnings: I love writing girl!dad Wooyoung so much. Pregnancy. Word Count: 875

A/N: this ended up being longer than a timestamp so enjoy. This took longer to post because my laptop was playing up.

Wooyoung Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist | Taglist Sign-Up

"What's all this?" Y/N’s husband’s sleepy voice comes from behind her as she puts on the final touches of setting the table for breakfast. 

Turning around, she sees Wooyoung gazing at her with wide, curious eyes, their six-year-old daughter beaming with excitement in his arms. Y/N gives her daughter a playful frown. The little girl had been eager to wake her father for his birthday surprise but she can’t fault her for it. Hae-young had no idea about the plan until Y/N had woken her up this morning, asking if she wanted to help surprise Daddy. There was no way Y/N would have spilled the beans to Hae-young before today. The little girl definitely inherited Wooyoung's yapping tendencies, making her terrible at keeping secrets. If she knew about what Y/N was planning earlier, the surprise would have been ruined.  

"What do we say to Appa?" Y/N prompts Hae-young.  

"Happy Birthday, Appa!" she exclaims joyfully, throwing her arms up in excitement, nearly making Wooyoung lose his hold on her. 

Wooyoung's sleepy grin grows as he finally registers what's happening, his eyes moving from the beautifully decorated table with flowers, balloons, seaweed soup, a couple of gift bags, and a small homemade cake to the excited face of his daughter. "Did you do all this for me?" 

"Eomma did, but I helped!" she proudly declares. 

Y/N watches as Hae-young beams with pride. The sight of their daughter’s enthusiasm fills her with warmth, and she can’t help but smile back at them both. Wooyoung, still half-asleep but now fully engaged, his eyes sparkling with affection, praises his little girl for a job well done before pressing a kiss to her cheek and leaning forward to press a kiss on Y/N's check also. 

Hae-young's laughter rings through the room like music, and Y/N feels her heart swell at the sight of her family. 

"Come on, Appa! You have to open my gift first!" Hae-young tells him, wriggling her way out of her dad's hold before taking his hand, tugging him towards the table. 

As soon as Wooyoung settles into his seat, Hae-young climbs onto his lap, reaching across the table for the larger black gift bag filled with all the things she picked out for him. 

"What did you get for me?" he asks taking the bag, opening it and reaches inside. The first thing he pulls out a black toy stuffed cat, this one different to his Aniteez sitting in her room. This one has big, sparkling green eyes and a tiny pink bow around its neck. Wooyoung chuckles, holding it up for Hae-young to see. "A black cat? You know your Appa very well." 

Hae-young giggles, clearly delighted with her choice of stuffed animal. "There's more, Appa."  

"Is there?" he replies, reaching back into the bag and pulling out three smaller gifts. One is a new bottle of black nail polish that Hae-young insisted on getting after seeing Wooyoung's nails painted for the latest comeback. Another is a box featuring his favorite cologne, and the last looks like a jewellery box. He opens it to reveal a small, intricately designed keychain with a photo of her inside it. Wooyoung smiles recognizing the image. It was of Hae-young, beaming with joy, her hair tousled by the wind, standing on her grandparent’s front doorstep. 

"Wow, Hae-young, I love it so much, I’m going to put it on my keys before I leave for work, so I can show all your uncles!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “they’re going to be so jealous!” 

“Do you think so?” she asks hopeful. 

“I know so,” he assures her. “Now, do you know what eomma got me?” 

She takes a moment to think about it but shakes her head, no.  

"Why don’t you go eat while I open eomma's gift, okay?" he suggests, shifting in his seat. She obediently moves to sit in the chair next to him.  

Y/N picks up the small black gift bag and hands it to him. "It’s not much, but I hope you like it," she says, her voice tinged with nervousness. He looks at her with a hint of concern, takes the bag, and opens it. As he pulls out a box larger than the one containing the keychain, his eyes widen in surprise. Looking at her, a mix of excitement and hope fills his gaze.  

"Is this for real?" he asks, glancing between the sonogram photo and the positive pregnancy test, then back at her. 

"Yes," Y/N replies, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

 In a burst of excitement, Wooyoung quickly stands from his chair, almost knocking it backwards, and wraps her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers. "I love you so much," he says in between kisses. "Best birthday ever," he adds when he pulls away enough to wipe her tears that had fallen, not realizing he has tears in his own eyes. 

"Appa? Eomma? Is something wrong?" they hear Hae-young ask, her innocent curiosity breaking through the moment. 

Wooyoung quickly wipes away the tears that had begun to form in his eyes, kneeling down to Hae-young's level. He glances at his wife before looking back at her. "Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. Appa's just having the best birthday he's ever had." 

@staytiny2000 - @treehouse-mouse - @katzline - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea

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@catzachvsvt - @ateez-atiny380 - @reayahnadeem24

[delacoursshp]

"3…2..1.. DIVE!"

cedric diggory x fem mermaid reader

- use of y/n, reader is in slytherin AND IS A MERMAIDDD, reader is independent, cedric is your cheesy lover, triwizard cup (2nd task) drama, you almost being caught as a mermaid

warnings: nothing

i write quick stories, but dis one felt a tiny lil longer than usual so enjoy😋

-

the bell rang. you were so glad to be out of ms trelawneys lesson. she was such an oaf, with her ''ooohh i see potentional murder ahead!" or her 'aahh i see much death in your future!'. like, honestly!

not that trelawneys sayings would've been a surprise; half-blood mermaids were very rare and often seen as demons. and funny enough, you were one of them.

you made your way down the stairs to study in the library.you avoided pansy parkinson and her little group, as they always put themselves in drama and you were never up for that.

once arrived, you yanked about 5 books from a shelf and then seated yourself at a table next to a big window.

you began reading. first book, second book, third book-

ding!

19.00.

you closed the books quickly, put them back and then rushed so fast out of the library, making people turn their heads.you went upstairs, third floor, to the prefects bathroom, then muttered something that sounded like 'pine-fresh' and the painting swept forwards and you quickly stepped in.

there was nobody, as expected, except for the mermaid on the painting onto the wall. you waved politely and she waved back excitedly, looking as if she had missed you really much. you undressed, leaving yourself completely naked, then stepped into the pool.

after what felt like 10 minutes you felt your body heat up, your toes clench really hard, and your breathing quickened. the double eyelids formed onto your face.

what used to be your legs had now shaped into a long dark green, grey-ish shiny tail. your skin turned a little grey too, and your nails extended in length. your iris had become bloodred of colour, and your black pupils dilated until there was just a thin red line around the black dot. you sighed as all the changes finished, and relaxed.

about 50 seconds later, you heard the prefects bathroom opening open. it was him.

you looked up, hoping it was him and not someone else. the painting creaked and there you saw the tall, fit, brunette figure walk through.

"cedric." you whispered in happiness. he smiled at you before sprinting and hastily jumping into the pool.

you squeaked. "cedric!" he laughed, shaking the water off his hair and swam towards you. "well, hello beautiful." he smirked, eyeing your sea creature body. your breasts were practically naked, except for the shell symbols spread around your areola.

"ced. your clothes are wet." you said sarcastically, staring up into his eyes while his arm rests around your shoulder.

"doesn't matter, love. how've you been? mind helping me with the triwizard cup? i think it has something to do with, you know, your kind. i heard sirens when i opened that egg. anyways, i hope they wo-"

you admired him as he kept talking about the upcoming triwizard task. you were so lucky to have him, he never judged you on being a mermaid. of course, he's also the only one that knows about it.

your deadly- (but oddly attractive to cedric) -eyes were caught by cedric as he finished the topic. he stared at you, and if looks could kill, you'd definitely been dead. you leaned your body onto him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"i don't know what i would do without you, cedric." you spoke softly. cedric chuckled.

"well, luckily that's something you don't ever have to worry about."

"promise?" you whispered, stroking his arm with your dainty hands.

"promise."

the mermaid in the painting clasped her hands onto her mouth, and her watery eyes blinked dramatically. she wiped them with a piece of seaweed.

cedrics hand that wasn't at your shoulder, trailed down your tail and felt at the texture.

he was mesmerized. he'd seen your mermaid self once before, from afar. now that he sees it up close, it's so much prettier.

you smiled softly, exhausted from reading so long before. you glanced at the mermaid, who winked back at you.

"i love you." cedric suddenly said, what made you turn your head immediately.

"i love you, cedric" you said back, not breaking eyecontact.

"good. fish babies!" he joked.

you giggled and sat yourself sideways onto his lap. your tail flicked up and down in excitement, making the water splash. cedric grinned at your actions. then you locked lips with him, drowning in his taste.

if only this moment would never end.

-

[CEDRICS POV)

it was the day of the second task. i was really nervous, but i prepared my bubble charm so everything should be fine.

bagman went on and on about this and that. to be fair, i wasn't listening. i was watching the lake before me, swinging my arms unpatiently.

"okay, enough chit-chatting! now, are we ready, best contestants?"

bloody right i was ready.

"3...2..1.. DIVE!"

an enormous splash erupted from the lake, onto the murmuring crowd. i swam and swam all the way down, trying to find what i was searching for. i didn't know exactly what. i just knew it would be guarded by mermen.

many minutes passed, and i saw 4 vague figures. i swam a little closer, and saw the four figures clearer. they were all tied up, cornered by merpeople.

one of them was a girl with rather bushy hair, next to her a boy with hair so red it looked like fire was burning in the lake, and next to him was a little girl, and right next to her was-

oh no. this couldn't be.

i frowned my eyebrows and my mouth dropped in fear. y/n.

the fact that it was y/n tied up, wasn't the worst thing. it was that her tail showed. a mermaid transformation took about 10 minutes, right? so whoever put her here must have done it quick! or else she would've been killed by them already.. if anyone up there sees she is a mermaid, things could get disgusting.

i examined her unconscious face, searching for any wounds. it was rather hard, curse the bubble charm for blurring my view.

i grabbed a knife i brought just in case from my pocket, and cut the ropes around her wrists. i carried her heavy figure up the water fast, as i felt like time was running out. our heads popped out, and y/ns eyes opened slowly. the first thing she saw was my face. then she looked around, very confused. she saw the water floating around her, and it looked like she was about to faint.

-

[YOUR POV]

what? what is going on? you felt fear, anger, and confusion rise up within you. please let this be a nightmare, you thought.

a soaked cedric with a bubble around his head was looking at you, worryingly. when you wanted to say something, but it came out as a whimper, he shushed you. "shh, it's okay, leave everything up to me right now, okay?" he whispered.

"and we have our first contestant up! cedric diggory!". the gryffindors, hufflepuffs, ravenclaws and a few beauxbatons cheered loudly. some looked confused at your slightly new appearance; your grey skin & red eyes weren't hidden. cedric tried to hide you from the crowd.

he grinned at them so nobody would find it off, and then swam to dumbledore with you, both of your bodies underwater, except for your heads.

"sir, she- she's.." cedric tried to make up an excuse to make sure your body stayed beneath the surface. you looked at him, terrified.

dumbledore smiled. "it's okay, boy. i'm not stupid, you know. show her to me."

cedric hesitated, but you nodded, after all, he was the headmaster. what choice did cedric or you have?

you shyly turned around, horrified to see his reaction, but dumbledore kept his same expression. "ah. and so i was right." he said, his eyes twinkling.

you frowned your eyebrows in surprise, looked at cedric, and saw that he was doing the same. "your bubble still functions well, i'm assuming? 2 hours they work, yes?"dumbledore said.

"uuh, yes, sir." cedric said. "turn around, dive, go north, then west, you'll find a cave, go through there and leave the rest up to me."

you and cedric looked at eachother in both relief and confusion, then cedric nodded.-you swam forward, cedric holding onto your hand. a smile crept up your face, as he struggled to keep up with you.

"keep up, tough boy." you mouthed, feeling a little less worried then before.he just chuckled nervously at you. the moment of it was almost romantic, if to ignore the context. you felt a sense of joy, being in your other home, together with someone you wanna spend your entire life with.

hopefully, the next task would be a lot less terrifying.

-

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

idk idk idkk. i don't rlly like this ☹️ but!! i felt like i wrote the task scene okay, right? 😝 anyways, hope u enjoyed!

- @delacoursshp

[somethingswift19]

Who? JJ Maybank x Tattooed (f) Reader

| Warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing, over protective JJ (mildly), alternative reader

| Summary: JJ noticed your medusa tattoo for the first time. All characters are in their 20s in this

| (a/n): I don't know how I feel about this ending. But I hope y'all enjoy!

You weren't like the others on Kildare Island. Technically you were a kook like Kie, but also like Kie you were a pouge through and through. Your dad was ex military and now worked for the local prison while your mom owned the only tattoo shop in the county. Due to this, your family tended to stand out which also meant you lacked in the friends department. That was until you met Kiara.

You and Kie had been inseparable since you met at the kook academy your freshman year. Neither of you wanted to be there but were forced by your mothers to attend. For her 16th birthday present, the two of you even got matching dolphin tattoos. Then when Sarah came along it became the three of you.

This led you to now. You were a 23 year old bartender at The Wreck, Kie's family restaurant, and the two of you had just gotten off shift. Running to the back you threw on your black "I <3 Hot Dads" hoodie, jean shorts, and red high top vans before throwing your messy, curly hair up into a bun. "Hey (y/n), are you ready?" your best friend yelled from the doorway.

"Yeah I'm coming!" grabbing your backpack, you followed her out. You had plans to meet the boys at the beach for a bonfire tonight after work. You had only met them a few times, and all of said times a certain blonde had caught your attention. Getting in the car you got settled but Kie didn't stop staring. "Can I help you?" you laughed.

"Oh no. Just wondering if you were gonna spend the whole night drooling over JJ again and not make a move like last time," she shrugged. Rolling your eyes you told her to just go.

Grabbing the beer out of the back, the two of you made your way towards the beach. "Hey girlies!" the familiar voice of Sarah Cameron rang out. "We were beginning to wonder when the two of you were showing up!"

"Blame the one who had to get ready before we came here," Kiara side eyed you before all three of you began to laugh.

"Listen! Is it a crime to want to look half way decent for my two besties other friends? I mean gotta make a good impression right?" you continued laughing.

"Yeah right. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that JJ is here tonight," Sarah teased you causing you to lightly hit her in the arm as the three of you headed down to the sand. After reaching the firepit you got settled onto the soft sand sitting crisscross applesauce. "Where's Pope?"

"He had homework for his fancy college program," the blonde boy you had been looking forward to seeing all night responded as he sat down next to you and handed you a beer. Nodding your head you took a swig out of the bottle you had been handed. The other three in the group were busy talking about something Sarah's brother did when JJ leaned over and broke the silence between the two of you. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like anyone I've ever seen around here." You gave him a funny look before he quickly added, "Like it's a good thing! It's cute! Just very different!"

A blush formed on your freckled cheeks, "Thank you...I Think." He was right though. You had long curly black hair with tiny bits of green throughout, both sides of your nose pierced along with your septum, and both ears pierced all the way up. Not to mention the tattoos. Yet you still had a sweetness or "innocence" to you.

"You're welcome!" he smiled proudly to himself for causing the pink tinge. "Now tell me about your tattoos!"

"Well what do you wanna know?" You inquired. The two of you being so wrapped up in your own conversation to realize the other three had left you two alone.

"Well for starters, how many do you have?" genuine curiosity was shown on his face. You fascinated him. "I mean I can see you have your traditional patchwork leg done here, but do you have any more?"

"Well," you began. "I have my leg sleeve (of course), then I also have a full arm sleeve, and one down my side. And then a secret one that matches Sarah and Kie's." you smirked before beginning to giggle when he looked astonished.

"We are gonna circle back to the mystery tattoos later!" the blonde boy exclaimed. "But can I see your sleeve?" You nodded with a hint of reluctance only because of one tattoo. You took off your hoodie so you were only in your tank top. JJ began examining all of the colorful pieces you had but quickly stopped when he saw the medusa adorning your upper arm. His face went from curious and playful to stern. "Who?"

"It's really not important," fixated on the fire you really were hoping to not have this conversation yet. You were always cold but the hoodies also helped keep that hidden.

"You can talk to me," his blue eyes softened. He didn't want to push you but wanted to at least offer. "My dad...he used to beat the shit out of me. I used to blame myself. Would convince myself that I deserved it somehow. My fiends helped snap me out of that."

The two of you sat there in silence for several minutes before you brought yourself to open up, "It was my ex. He had a hard time taking no for an answer." JJ didn't say anything but just let you confide in him. "But before that, I went through something similar to you. My dad was an angry guy. I remember showing up to school with black eyes and having to have my friends cover for me. Then when I was 16, things got particularly bad. He slapped me so hard I fell down and he stormed out. Said 'He should have left me and my bitch of a mom a long time ago'...he came back the next morning in tears and never laid a hand on me since. So then when my ex did what he did, it just brought out suppressed memories."

JJ immediately brought you into a hug while wiping a tear off your cheek, "I am so sorry." You looked up into his beautiful baby blue eyes when the two of you leaned in. He kissed you so gently and tasted so sweet you thought you were in heaven. That was until he whispered onto your lips "So what are these secret tattoos the three of you girls share?" Laughing you buried your face into his chest.

"It's so embarrassing," you blushed as he started to chuckle right when the other three showed back up from what looked like swimming. "Oh! Just in time! (y/n) here was just about to enlighten me on these secret tattoos of yours!"

"Don't do it!" and "She was not!" were said in unison by other two.

"Come on guys we should tell them," you smiled and you all three agreed. "Ok, so just know the three of this did this to celebrate graduating high school. We were young and dumb."

"Oh this is gonna be good," John B mumbled.

"We all have a different fruit," Sarah continued.

"On each of our asses," Kiara finished. The two boys burst out laughing.

"Are you being for real?" John B asked. "I mean I knew about yours Sarah, but all three of you?" he couldn't hold back the laughter anymore.

JJ leaned over and whispered just to you, "I can't wait to see what yours is." Causing you to once again turn bright red. You knew you were in trouble with this boy when he just smirked down and kissed you again saying, "You're too damn cute when you blush like that."

[impala-dreamer]

Try It On

A Supernaturally Adorable Story

~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,850 Words

Warnings: It's... Fluffy, Banter-y, Cute, Sexy, Kissy, Fun

A/N: This is for my free space for @jacklesversebingo ! And... special thanks to @deanwinchesterswitch for helping make the awesome art and showing me how to be better at that in general :) 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The thing you have to understand about the Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon is that- it’s huge. Well, huge isn’t really the right word. It would be more accurate to describe it as massive- and deceptively so. Not only does it reach down two stories into the earth, but it’s also full of twists and turns and magic. Hallways seem to stretch on forever, lined with horizontal black tiles that trick the eye into believing there’s a dead-end where instead there’s a turn. There are forks in the road that elicit directional anxiety, staircases that lead nowhere, and hidden doorways that if taken, can lead to a random spot in the Bunker that seemed accessible only from the outside.

Once, Y/N had slipped through a small door in the Mechanical Room that she thought was a closet, only to end up standing behind the giant telescope in the Library.

Door numbers played games with her, multiplying and changing. Rooms appeared and disappeared, moved seemingly by magic, or perhaps only in her mind. It was impossible to navigate too far from the main areas without a map, or at the very least, her cell in hand should she accidentally get stuck somewhere new.

As far as Sam knew, there was only one map of the Bunker - the original blueprints to be exact - and the more he studied it, the more he realized that most of the underground lair was not included in the plans.

Life in the Bunker was nice. The cavernous rooms seemed to echo the quiet in a comforting way and although it was usually a little chilly, it was nice to be able to snuggle up in a big sweater or cuddle down in a blanket while reading in the Library. It was easy to find yourself with alone time, and even easier to sneak around in the shadows, finding fun ways to keep occupied while the monsters plotted beyond the big doors.

Those fun ways generally involved some kind of chase between Y/N and Dean which usually, if not always, ended with a trail of flannel leading into either’s bedroom. ‘Sex Tag’, Dean had dubbed it, though Y/N liked to pretend they were a tad less obvious and called it simply, ‘Hide and Seek’.

Last Thursday, one such game was in play. Y/N was the aggressor this time, quickly stalking Dean through the tunnels, her socked feet silent yet slippery on the highly polished tile floor. She raced around corners with a hand on the wall for stability and still almost always wiped out. Around such a turn, she caught a break as Dean, obviously somewhere nearby, let out a breathy laugh.

She spun to her left and spotted him halfway down the right hallway, leaning casually against the tiles. His bare ankles were crossed and off to the side, his arms were folded across his chest, navy Henley stretching sinfully over his biceps. His chin was low and he looked up with a devilish smirk, letting her know that despite having given away his location, he had no intention of letting her catch him yet.

“Caught you,” she announced, taking a short step towards him. She set her hands on her hips and stared him down.

Dean licked his lips and bit back a smile, forcing the tiny dimples above his mouth to pop. “Uh, you ain’t caught me yet…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really gonna make me come all the way over there?”

In one slick motion, Dean pushed himself away from the wall and dragged a hand back through his short hair. He peered over at her, green eyes dark with temptation. “Only if you wanna win.”

Y/N clicked her tongue, daring him to move. “I found you- that’s usually enough to garner a win.”

He turned to face her full on, bowed legs spread shoulder-width apart. He let his arms hang down as if he were at ease, but she knew he was ready to bolt.

“Usually,” he agreed.

“But not today?”

He sucked his teeth and shook his head slowly. “Not today.”

Y/N took a step toward him. “No?”

Long fingers tensed against worn denim. “No. Today it’s a tag or nothing.”

She took another step and Dean’s jaw twitched.

“So, if I grab your ass,” she asked, “I win?”

Plump lips curled on one side. “If you can catch me, sure.”

She took a deep breath.

He mirrored.

She held in the air and took a step.

He lingered, daring, teasing.

On her exhale, Y/N pushed off on her right foot and broke into a run, her arms pumping, thighs straining to pick up speed while simultaneously fighting to stay upright on the slippery ground.

Dean waited exactly seven seconds before retreating. He spun on the spot; the balls of his bare feet squeaking gently on the tiles as he took off. The first few yards he dashed at full speed, just to put some space between himself and the huntress, but after a peek over his shoulder, he slowed, shifting into first gear. It wasn’t a Sex Tag if she didn’t eventually catch him, after all.

Y/N’s heart was pounding, skin heating up, muscles thrumming with adrenaline. Once close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his neck, she reached out and grabbed blindly for him, catching the collar of his shirt and tugging hard.

Dean gasped at the sudden pull and his arms shot out at his sides, balancing even as Y/N jerked him backwards. She slipped as they both came to a screeching halt, and Dean caught her just before she hit the floor, surely saving her from a bruise or two.

Out of breath and victorious, Y/N straightened up and pushed at his chest, slamming him back into the wall. “Gotcha!”

He lifted his chin above her forearm and made a play of being pinned even though they both knew he could slip away without much effort.

“Still haven’t won yet,” he informed her.

Y/N huffed and reached an arm around him, grabbing his left ass cheek hard.

Dean held in a yelp.

“How ‘bout now?”

He grinned, drew his bottom lip in between his front teeth. “I fold.”

“Thought you might.”

To seal the deal, Y/N pushed up on her toes and kissed him hard. The arm barring his chest dropped and Dean wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer and spinning so she was against the wall.

His tongue slid across her lips and her hands slipped down his chest. He bucked his hips against her and she moaned through the kiss. Her fingers bunched up around his stomach, grabbing at the navy fabric, wanting him closer.

He shivered and trailed his lips across her cheek, dropped a kiss by her ear, let out a heavy breath that prickled her skin.

“Want you,” he growled, rocking into her once more. “Now.”

Delicate fingers tucked up beneath his shirt and scraped down his belly. Y/N drew a finger across his hip bone and looked up at him, teeth snagged, eyes glazed beneath batting lashes.

“Right here.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dean pushed himself up, set his hand on the wall beside her, stared down with a shy grin. “Yeah?”

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged. “Yeah. Right here.”

Green eyes went wide and freckled cheeks blushed. Hesitantly, he dropped his right hand to her breast and felt for her nipple through the layers of fabric.

Y/N arched her back against the wall, pushing her chest out and moaning loudly.

The echo scared him and Dean looked cautiously over his shoulders.

“What? Afraid your brother’s lurking?” she teased.

He huffed out a sarcastic laugh but looked back again, certain they’d be caught. “Yeah… OK, maybe a little.”

Y/N held his gaze and snapped her fingers over his jeans, popping the brass button open. He hissed as her hand snuck down inside; the zipper easing open to give her more room.

“Someday,” she whispered, drawing his attention closer as she traced his quickly stiffening cock with her thumb. “I’ll get you to indulge my public sex fantasy…”

His eyes went wide when she cupped his dick in her warm hand. “Fuck!”

Quickly but reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and reached for the doorknob on her left. The lock was in place and he issued an annoyed huff.

Y/N watched as he fumbled with the door across the way - also locked - and then cleared her throat.

“We can just go back to my place,” she offered. “Though, I’m not quite sure how to get back there…”

Dean was already on the next door. “No, no. We’re gonna… just… find a spot to hide in… and- yes!” The fourth door he tried opened and he waved Y/N over.

She followed through the portal and nearly stumbled into him as the darkness devoured them both.

Just a bit scared, Y/N spun around as Dean shut the door. “A little light would be nice!”

“Workin’ on it!”

She took a step backward and hit an unexpectedly soft barrier. She turned, feeling with cautious hands, a wall of hanging fabrics. Confused, she reached higher and felt a metal rod and plastic hangers.

“Is this…”

Dean found his way to the switch and two hanging lights flipped on.

“... a closet-” Y/N’s excitement grew when her eyes adjusted. “What… on earth…”

Dean hummed curiously. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we were over here.”

Y/N took a look around. “Where exactly is here?”

“South of the kitchen,” he replied. “Or east. I can’t remember.”

She was awed.

It was a bedroom, or at least, used to be. The layout was familiar. The standard full bed with its ugly green blanket was there, as was the writing desk and the random sink against the front wall. Everything was the same except for the massive collection of costumes. The perimeter was lined with bulging clothing racks and boxes filled with shoes. Hats of all varieties hung on nails hammered into the plaster walls and ties in just about every shade of blue and red were neatly displayed on a hanging rack by the door.

With an amused smile growing on her lips, Y/N ran her hands over the shirts on the left side of the room and plucked a brightly colored Hawiian shirt from the rack. She turned, holding it up for Dean to see.

“This yours?” She held in a laugh.

He clicked his tongue and grabbed at the hanger, pulling it away. “Hey. I like this shirt.”

“It’s… loud.”

He glared. “It’s a disguise, OK?” Carefully, he put the flowered button-down back in its place. “They all are.”

“Not a very subtle one,” she joked, shaking her head as she flipped through the rack. “Oh my…”

Next, she pulled free a leather jacket and caressed it gently. “Now this- I like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes as she shrugged on the quilted leather. “Of course you do. Chicks dig guys in leather.”

Y/N fit her arms into the long sleeves and popped the collar up around her neck. “Whatcha think?” She posed for him and Dean stood back, checking her out.

“Very hot. You got a real… Rizzo vibe goin’ on.”

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip his way. “Yeah? You gonna mark me up, Kenickie?”

Dean whistled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You better believe it…”

Y/N chewed her lip and took a step, ready to attack him. Before she could get the momentum, a dirty mustard-colored sleeve grabbed her attention and she shifted course.

“Is that?” She tugged the costume from the rack and held it up to look it over. “When were you a fireman?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know- years ago.”

“And you kept the outfit?”

He shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”

She narrowed her eyes curiously and leaned in, taking a sniff of the coat. It was musty but unburned. “Why?”

Something stirred inside and Dean felt suddenly like he had to defend himself from her scrutiny, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out why. His answer came out in a stumble of letters that tried to climb over and inside each other.

“It’s not- don’t- you just- who- I don’t know!” In a snit, he grabbed the suit and shoved it back in its place. “Do you have to touch everything?”

Y/N held her amusement inside. “Yes. Yes I do.”

Twirling around him, she jumped up and tipped a tan Stetson from its hook. It fell onto his head easily and Y/N nodded in approval.

“Awesome.”

Dean inhaled deeply, pushing down his annoyance even as his cheeks burned. “Yeah, yeah… go on. Make fun of me.”

“Oh, I will never make fun of Cowboy Dean.”

He looked up at her from under the brim and she winked, soothing his hurt.

Feeling guilty, Y/N sashayed up to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. “I think it’s cool that you kept all this.”

His brows creased. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. Even cooler that you got to wear it all. I’ve only ever gone undercover as a Fed. This is…” She paused and looked around the room. Lab coats and police uniforms and bright orange construction vest looked back at her. “This is cool.”

Dean softened and fit his arm around her waist, hand flat on the small of her back. “You were a doctor once, if I remember…”

“A lab tech,” she corrected, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest.

He nodded. “Ah, right. I remember you in that white coat… and that tiny skirt that barely covered your-”

“Hey!”

She slapped him and he lunged for her, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. Wrapping her fingers around the open collar of his shirt, Y/N tugged him closer, licked into his mouth, hummed at the sugary taste of him. A late breakfast of black coffee and a powdered donut lingered on his tongue.

His eyes were closed when she pulled back, his pouty lips puckered and searching for more. She laughed.

“Know what’d be super hot?” she whispered, walking her fingers up to loop around the nape of his neck.

Dean set his hands on her hips, thumbs cutting circles in the soft flesh beneath her shirt. “What’s that?”

She spun away again and waltzed to the other side of the room, plucking a disguise from the rack at random. Without looking, she tossed it at Dean who caught it before the hanger poked his eye out.

“Wear it for me,” she said, desire dripping from her lips.

“You’re crazy,” he laughed.

Y/N pouted and fluttered her eyes at him. “Come on, Dean… try it on.”

Intrigued, he examined the outfit she’d chosen. It was the pale blue shirt and dark slacks of a navy uniform, complete with white Dixie Cup hat.

“You’re serious.”

She nodded. “I am.”

He fiddled with the buttons. “Yeah… I’m not doin’ that.”

“Come on, baby… put on a show for me…”

He felt a twinge in his gut and blood rushed to his cock. He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have a seat…”

Stetson returned safely to its hook, Dean rearranged the rack by the door so he could hide behind it as he changed. The move wasn’t out of modesty, as there wasn’t much privacy left between them, but purely for the game.

Y/N appreciated the little touch and set herself up on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for the show to begin. From the corner of her eye, she spied a cardboard box on the floor with a glinting bit of chrome inside.

The chrome trimmed out the edges of an old yet professional looking camera and Y/N held in a delighted laugh. Stealing it, she set herself up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, fingers learning the buttons. By the time Dean was ready, so was she.

Dean cleared his throat and lifted his voice up over the dividing rack. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Y/N bit her lip and closed one eye, looking through the lens finder with the other. “Ready, Commander!”

With much dramatic flare, Dean whipped around the rack and appeared in all his naval glory. Gone was his soft Henley and loose, old jeans, replaced by the tight slacks and tucked-in button down shirt. The cap sat tilted on his skull and his eyes bright; playful yet shy.

“Actually, Miss,” he corrected, “that’s Ensign Winchester.”

“You demoted yourself,” she laughed. “Fun.”

Before he could snap back with something clever, a snap disturbed him.

So engrossed in his own costume, Dean hadn’t noticed the long, black camera lens pointed at him.

She snapped a quick shot, then another.

“Perfect…” Two more in quick succession. “Give us a twirl, will ya?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Dean struggled to cover himself by grabbing a gray phone operator’s jumpsuit from the rack.

Y/N whistled. “Oh, yes! That one next!”

Dean scoffed. “In your dreams.” He heard another click of the camera and ripped the cap from his head. “Quit it, will ya?”

“Nope. This is great stuff. Very sexy.”

He groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”

Pouting, she dropped the camera onto the bed and leaned back on her arms, hands barely sinking into the ancient mattress. “Oh, come on…”

Looking up, he found her playfully sad and couldn’t resist the puckered frown of her pretty lips or the fake tears brewing in her beautiful eyes.

He sighed heavily and let the jumpsuit fall to the floor in a heap of cheap polyester. “Fine.”

Arms out, he took a step into the middle of the room and did a quick spin, showing off how tightly the pants hugged his cute little ass.

Y/N grinned and held in a hungry moan. “That’s it, Ensign. Back that thang up.”

Rolling his eyes, he gave her a little shake and then walked away, returning to his sanctuary behind the rack.

“What’s next?” she asked, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings.

“Nothing.”

“You’re no fun…”

He was glad the clothing was hiding his smile. Of course he was going to model for her. He’d do just about anything she asked, apparently including, playing dress up on a random Thursday afternoon.

He cleared the smile from his throat and turned up the gruff. “Hold your horses!”

Y/N hid a laugh. “Oh, is there a full cowboy outfit I should know about?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “There is. But dream on.”

“I sure will…”

Fabric rustled and the rack shook a little.

Y/N toyed with the zoom. “Where’s this camera from, anyway? There’s still film in it.”

“Sam sometimes pulls that out when we do the journalist cover. I think he just likes playing with big, long things.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably. Though, I don’t think he needs to compensate for anything.”

Startled, Dean’s head popped up over the rack and he glared at her.

“Nevermind…” She batted her lashes and away his concern.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Show me something sexy,” she urged, wiggling on the bed to get comfortable.

“Sexy, huh?” He adjusted his sleeves and took a breath. “How’s this for sexy?”

Around the corner came Mr. Winchester in a dark brown uniform with matching pants and shirt, black belt and a shiny badge over his heart.

She was confused. “UPS driver?”

He scoffed and smoothed out the shirt. “Park Ranger!” Turning, he showed off the patch on his right shoulder. “Love this one. I look good in brown.”

Y/N snapped a few pictures but ultimately vetoed the outfit. “No one looks good in head-to-toe brown.”

Dean scowled and slunk off to change yet again.

Next, a white bit of plastic was fit around his throat and his hair was quickly parted on the side, raked through by thick fingers. The black clerics of a priest were intriguing, but Y/N felt funny kissing a holy man, so she quickly pushed Father Dean away.

A set of green surgeon scrubs were documented but waved away, as were two ill-fitting lab coats of varying lengths, although Y/N thought to sneak a stethoscope away for later.

When Dean revealed what he thought would seal the deal, he was met with nothing but such roaring laughter as to give Y/N a coughing fit.

“What? My legs are sexy!”

Y/N tried to calm herself, but the sight of Dean in tiny red gym shorts and sweat bands around his forehead and wrists was simply too much for her to take.

“When- what- where-” She nearly choked and fell back against the mattress, shielding her gaze from the costume.

With a devastated sigh, Dean turned and ripped the white polo from his back. “Ya know, I was a damned good gym teacher that week!”

“Flag on the play, babe,” she wheezed.

“Fine!” Defeated, he threw his hands up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”

Y/N took a calming breath and scooted to the foot of the bed. “I don’t know…”

“Then I can’t give it to you!”

“Hey! Don’t yell at me. We’re just fooling around.”

He hissed. “I wanna be fooling around, that’s the point.”

“Well, then show me something I can’t resist,” she encouraged. “Find me that one outfit that turns my gears so tight they’ll snap.”

“That’s… not how gears work…”

Eyes rolled hard; teeth were sucked. “Just… you know what I mean.”

“Fine.”

Hangers were shifted about, cheap fabrics were rumpled and tossed aside.

After much foot tapping and debating, Dean made a selection at random and prepared to wave the white flag.

One foot out from behind the rack, however, he knew he had chosen wisely.

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the lens slowly lowered. Her eyes went wide and she felt her skin flush.

“Oh. Oh my…”

Curious, Dean stepped closer and opened his arms. “Really?”

Mouth watering and heart beating hard, Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I have no idea why, but that’s it.”

His brows creased. He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Really.”

Y/N licked her lips and nodded. The heat drained from her cheeks and headed downwards, traveling like his gaze over her breasts and settling between her thighs. “Really.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Don’t care,” she said quickly, standing up and reaching for him. “Get over here, professor.”

Her fingertips grazed over the thick, beige wool of his cable knit sweater, hooked around the big, wooden buttons and tugged him close.

Dean’s eyes lit up with lustful wonder.

“Actually, I was a child psychologist in this thing-”

Another tug on the bulky cardigan had him stumbling down onto the bed with her. “I don’t care. Just fuck me…”

Dean licked his lips and ghosted his fingers over the soft leather hiding her body from him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[septimaseverinawannawrite]

Autumn Equinox

Fandom: Tom Hiddleston's Loki

Type: One Shot

Pairing: Asgard!Loki x F!Reader

Summaries: Blissful Autumnal Equinox with your most beloved, Loki.

Content : Establishing Relationship.

Warning: Consuming of Alcohol. Smut Language (from second half part). My English (is my second language).

Rate: T to M

Words: 1,337 (Finally, I can go back on writing more than 1,000 words!)

A/N: Actually, my hiatus is about sorting which fandom I truly love. Tom Hiddleston's Loki has always been. Also, I've met the amazing @lokisgoodgirl. She writes super grande and magnifique Loki's contents, her mini-series made me in tears. No kidding. Annnnnnnndddd, happy Autumnal Equinox! 😊🍂🍁

🌹Click to My AO3

When you have passed through the frame of the high carved golden door of the banquet hall, when the first music note hits your ears, and the completely decorated colossus hall presents ahead. All the honourable guests – not only from Asgard; the allied Realms, too.

Few attendants, carrying trays with glasses of refreshment and sliced-fruits, walk toward you, offering you these appetizers before the feast begins. You pick a glass of deep red liquid and a bowl of sliced berries as a matter of courtesy. With polite deportment, as it is official; you are the second Prince of Asgard, prince Loki’s lover right now.  

Speaking of your graceful grandeur and lover, you expect him to stand beside Queen Frigga, otherwise hanging out with Thor and friends, or mingling with the guests. Since, he has always been a remarkable entertainer, in almost every feast and banquet.

You look around this great hall with keen sight, yet he appears not, even his very own shadow under golden and silver glittering.

You make your way across the hall, searching throughout the crowd thoroughly. Loki still does not stand in presence anywhere or hides amongst them, though.

Sighing despondently, you stroll near the terrace and hope he might appear later due to the present; King Odin and Prince Thor are nowhere to be seen like Loki.

The large terrace outside, the guests did not loiter and linger on that much. You see only a group of young women gathering together to comfort a woman, who was crying and babbling about how her intended had remorselessly refused to dance with her; four, perhaps five courtiers arguing over advanced scientific theory; and a tall figure leaning over a big column at the dim far side.

You smile. Even in such hazy light, no, much darker place one can barely see, you do always remember your only beloved.

Loki is standing alone. He leans on the column with a book in his hand, that pair of symmetry brows knit together, jawline gritted tightly and did not stand the full length of all his elegance and finery; he was still beautiful. Or more, as small brightness, from a few torches, has glowing on his tall figure and ravenous black sleek locks and hair.

Tonight, he dresses in shining ceremonial attire; armour, breastplate, black and green appearance – adoring with golden rims and lines – with an emerald cape that flies behind along the gentle breeze. A glass of high spirit golden liquor sat on the nearest small table.

If you must verbally describe his appearance right now, you could never complete that task and lose yourself all over him, as always, every single time – no matter who has asked.

While you approach closer to him, a tiny soft smile tugged on his lips, before averting his gaze from that book.

“I know what you're thinking.” His smile gets wider, “Come here, my moon.”

He places a book on the table, extends his arm and hand to catch your free hand. Yours and those slender fingers intertwine together, when another pulling you close to him.

“Don’t you have to entertain the guests, both from Asgard and other realms? Leaving your mother alone with her lady-in-waiting, without King Odin and Thor to nowhere avail on significant festivity, likewise?”

“My mother is more than capable to entertain and get this banquet going on, don’t worry and don’t mind them.”

“But if I do mind…?”

You lift an eyebrow, place a glass and a bowl on the same table, as the corner of your mouth is raising. He chuckles delightedly.

“Eager to acknowledge everything and anything as usual…such a perfect queen for me.”

“Oh, you’re praising me.”

You pretend to be surprised, sliding an index finger onto Loki’s chin; up to his jaw, to his cheekbone.

“You haven’t told me yet.” Now your finger is on his pointy nose. “Concerning All-Father Odin and Prince Thor.”

Loki removes your finger down to his chest instead, holds your hand while kissing your temple.

“Also, I’m suddenly and immediately desire to acknowledge the matter you’ve just read.”

“Then you shall.”

His magic brings you both out of the terrace, disappearing from the feast. Currently, you both are standing on the balcony of his bedchamber.

A deep emerald velvet chaise, along with silk blanket, and big pillows are placed together on a golden trimming carpet – facing the vision below and ahead. Besides, is a carved marble and unknown material table; a jar of fine liquor and two delicate – but gorgeous glasses, more luxurious fruits and desserts than everything at the feast – on the very exquisite silver tray, and other pretty ornaments.

Loki pulls you to sit next to him, skilful fingers undid your elegant hairdo and remove a satin shawl out, before holding you closer. You also notice his cape and ceremonial armour pieces have vanished, leaving only black leather attire on, but now your attention is the view before your eyes.

The scenery from this specific point is remarkable and splendid, much more than the usual state you have seen about a hundred times: ten thousand lights illuminate the city below on Equinox’s night and the Bifrost, as glowing and sparkling as numerous stars and the crescent moon above the dark purple sky.

“So, what preoccupies your father and brother?”

You lean your head on Loki’s shoulder, his large – yet soft – hand circling and rubbing your exposed skin, tenderly and fondly. You close your eyes and let a quiet moan slip out of your mouth, feel the blissfulness and enjoyment gradually creeping inside.

“Thor’s Midgardian lover. Seems like she is unnecessary to All-Father’s will and the feast.” He ceases manoeuvring your bare shoulder, sliding down to snake his arm around your waist.

“Why is your father even bothered and upset? She’s a scientist, despite her knowledge compared to ours, she surely wants to see the equinox from Asgard when the great opportunity is right before her.”

“Indeed, she is.” He starts pressing his nose on your hair. “Now you have your answer, haven’t you?”

Loki’s huskily whispers into your ear, his other hand tilting your head away from the view in front of you both to face him.

“Summer is totally gone, but how can you smell like peony?”

You purr and sigh with contentment, for Loki's nose and lips press at the crook of your neck. Goosebumps arise and send chills down to your spine. And, too, sense his personal scent into your nostrils; rose mixing with balsam poplar – his favourite oils when bathing.

These pleasant fragrances remind you of previous intimate and sensual countless times with Loki, especially while you are positioned under his body. All the memories are clearly and vividly playing in your mind. Curiosity of what he read before has been ignored totally, absolutely, and completely.

Nevertheless, albeit you know he needs to get you lying down – as well as you – still, you desire to indulge yourself with a breathtaking night in his embrace, and your dress on a little longer… Before he throws it away later.

Thus, you signal by grabbing his wrist, to halt him from kissing down and downward; telling him with your smooth voice. Loki irritably huffs in his throat.

“If you hold me any longer, before the moon crosses its current cusp, note this…” He bites your earlobe, as light as a feather. You try to suppress your moan, unfortunately, it fails. “You aren’t going to be allowed to leave my chamber until the day after tomorrow…”

Loki presses your back against an upholstery. Your moan changes into a high-pitched squeak, as he crashes his lips on yours, altogether, unlacing the knots behind your dress in slow rhythm. 

Your breath is hitching – you can barely catch it, wherein Loki twirls his lower lip from yours; dragging down along your chin, base of your neck, your collarbone, and above your breast, respectively. As you feel his clothed length upon your thigh and his invisible smirk over the valley of your cleavage. 

“Too late, my dearest.”

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Pray ardently, my empty puppet; Among brothers you roam, the black sheep.

• • •

lore, variants and ID under the cut !!

what is the significance of the snakes? no idea. i probably drew them badly, too.

but hinduism claims snakes represent life, death and rebirth; northeastern indian cultures consider snakes and serpentine dragons to be symbols of good luck and fortune, and protectors of water sources; and funnily enough, the sanskrit word "naga" has often been used to refer to snakes, serpentine demigods, and, very very rarely, clouds.

and maybe this is a long-winded way of saying desi!Cloud finds himself leaning towards the serpents in his journey for self-forgiveness and recovery, much like how AC Cloud is often paired with Fenrir and the wolf motif.

if i were to really follow through with desi!Cloud and the snake motif, then it almost makes sense to have desi!Sephiroth be attributed to birds, maybe specifically the garuda, not because of the wings but because most indian cultures consider snakes and birds to be enemies. Nagas and snakes were thought to reside within the underworld (and the original Nibelheim is the land of the dead); and birds, specifically eagles and the garuda, have been associated with the gods, which ties into Sephiroth pursuing godhood for most of the game.

And that little tidbit of snakes being protectors of water sources? hmm. I can see Cloud regularly visiting Aerith, him as the guardian of her grave and her gift to the world.

so. yeah, I have no idea what the purpose of snakes are in this picture. Cloud bound by fate? holding himself back from forgiveness, from growth? hmm. much to think about it

START ID: A piece focused on Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7, who stands in the centre of the image. A black backdrop, with green wisps and tessellating textures over it. Cloud stands in front, hands clasps in prayer, similar to Aerith Gainsborough's iconic prayer pose; he is staring at the viewers with an absent gaze. He is awash with green light, his right eye is glowing an eerie shade of green and has a vertical slit pupil, and the left side of his face is covered in blood. His SOLDIER uniform has south Asian influences, notably in the design of the pauldrons, arm guards and belt. Wrapping around his head and neck is a snake, which rears its head over his hair and covers Cloud's left eye with its coils. Around his clasped hands is another snake, looping around his wrists like rope. Around Cloud in the foreground are small, tiny green sparks, floating aimlessly to the side. The overall piece radiates a foreboding, desolate atmosphere. /END ID.

[holdmytesseract]

baby fever au

Loki comes back from a mission gone awry & he is just so pissed & all he wants to do is cuddle his girls to feel better

“Where’s Ella? I just need to hold her” *Y/N gives Loki baby Ella* *Loki instantly relaxes*

Little Mood Changer

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki & Ella feat. Y/N

Summary: After Loki comes home from a failed mission, all he wants to do is hold his baby daughter.

Warnings: none, actually... Fluff! Pissed/sad Loki?

Word Count: 955

a/n: Thank you for this lovely request @aagn360 ! ☺️ I hope you like this cute, little fic I wrote! 🥰

Baby Fever Crew: @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @eleniblue @loz-3 @vbecker10 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lou12346789 @kimanne723 @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @mostclevermiss @aagn360 @acefeather2002 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @lokiforever @anukulee

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

You could already hear Loki miles away. His quick, powerful footsteps - coming undoubtedly from his heavy leather boots, echoed down the long, wide hallway of the floor you lived on. Mere seconds later got the main door literally ripped open, before it got slammed shut again. You feared for a moment, that the force would take it off its hinges. Frowning, you placed your book aside and got up from the sofa, in order to look after your husband. Peaking around the corner, you saw him taking almost aggressively off his shoes. Okay... Something was definitely wrong.

"Babe?" You called out for him cautiously, and stepped in the hallway. The raven-haired god looked up to face you. His facial features told you that, yes, he was very pissed and in a bad mood. Before you even knew what was happening, he was rushing towards you; bestowing a fleeting kiss on your lips on his way.

Too short for your liking, given the fact that he was almost two days gone. "Where's Ella? I just need to hold her." You were a bit taken aback by the whole situation happening in front of your eyes. No hello, no proper kiss? What was going on? "Um, she, um, is in her playpen." That being said, Loki walked past you - straight into the living room and Ella's playpen. The little girl had heard her daddy already from miles away as well. Therefore, she was standing inside her playpen, having herself pulled up on the wooden bars and holding onto them for dear life. She could stand already. But not yet alone.

"Dada!" She squealed with laughter, bobbing excitedly up and down. Her tiny raven curls were bouncing; oceanic blue eyes shining with pure happiness. You watched from where you stood in the door frame, how Loki leaned down to lift your daughter up in his arms. "Hi, baby girl," you heard him muttering under his breath, before he cuddled the little girl close to his armour-clad chest. The god's eyes fluttered shut, as he inhaled her scent - and you could see how he instantly relaxed. His bad mood, washed away within seconds, because of the sweet creature you and him had created. "Daddy missed you so much, princess." He continued to whisper against Ella's clothed skin, while she just continued to giggle and babble happily.

You watched the scenes from the side-line, smiling like the idiot in love you were. Whatever happened on the mission he was on, Ella was seemingly able to let him forget about it within seconds.

He carried Ella then over to the sofa and flopped down with her. A shimmer of green seiðr enveloped his body, changing his armour in more comfortable clothes. A black green hoodie and grey sweatpants. He sat Ella down on his chest, steadying her and keeping her upright with his hands around her waist. "Dada!" The little girl clapped her hands excitedly and reached for the cords of his hoodie, playing with them. Loki watched her with an amused smile, playing along with her.

You decided to join them as well, "You know... She's never that excited when I'm coming home." sitting down beside your husband and daughter. Loki scoffed, eyeing you critically. "That is absolutely not true, my love, and you know it." You giggled, shaking your head. "It is - and you know it, my love." Another scoff. "Ella's a daddy's girl. She always was, always will be. I accepted it." That caused a low chuckle to rumble through Loki's chest.

You leaned onto your side and buried a hand in his raven black curls, gently massaging his scalp. "What happened on the mission that got you so pissed, huh?" Your husband turned his head slowly; stunning oceanic blues meeting your eyes. "I am sensing my bad mood must've been very obviously?" "Mhh, yeah... Quite a bit, babe." You held his gaze and continued to run your hand through his hair. "So... What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" Loki sighed; slightly shaking his head. "It just went not how we planned... A lot of misunderstandings, the failing of communication and Stark blaming me for it." You frowned. "Why would Tony blame you for this?" The god shrugged his shoulders. "Because he like to blame me. And somebody has to be the culprit, right? It's easier to put the blame on the still untrustworthy war criminal, rather than seeking out the real problem."

Your heart ached at his words; facial expressions turning soft and gentle. "I'm sorry for that, my love. I don't understand why Tony acts how he acts sometimes." You sighed, but felt Loki's hand on yours. He gently untangled it from his hair to intertwine his fingers with yours. "Darling, you do not need to apologise for that. I am just going to accept it. Perhaps you are right and Stark has his reasons why he acts like that."

Loki brought your intertwined hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "I'm sorry for the unproper greeting, my queen, but I just... I just had to hold our baby." He gestured towards Ella, who had dozed off on his chest by now; small limbs dangling off his sides. You squeezed your linked hands, "It's okay, babe. I understand." and started to smile cheekily. "As long as you're making it up to me..." A boyish smile grazed the god's lips, before he let go of your hand again, "Oh, with pleasure." and used both hands to cup your cheeks. He brought your face closer to his, and before you even knew what was happening, Loki's lips met yours; kissing you senseless.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Creature Comforts

Rated G | Vidow Cottage AU | 2557 words

Vio notices literal and figurative similarities between Shadow and Pinecone the cat.

I wrote this fic back in September for the Four Swords Winter's Delight zine, which has now been released! Please check out the tumblr page @fswintersdelight for the PDF, which includes art, fic, and other goodies from fandom creators. A special thank you to Kalh, aka @vagueandominousvibes and WriterKalhsScribbles on ao3, for creating and managing the event!

“I love it,” Vio says, turning the rock over in his hand. It reminds him of sunset dragon rides, the heat of the Fire Temple, the sweet taste of marshmallows roasted over fires they set together. “Thank you, Shadow.” In retrospect, Vio knows he probably shouldn’t have been so permissive of Shadow doing villainous things to impress him back in their evil days. It’s something Blue, Green, Zelda, and even Shadow himself have all since commented on, with various degrees of moral judgment. And to his credit, Vio typically attempts to walk it back, to express retroactive distaste for Shadow’s more violent and macabre ‘gifts.’ But deep down, some part of Vio will always take pleasure in the degree to which Shadow will go to prove his devotion. “We should probably dispose of the dead mouse, though,” Shadow mutters against Vio’s lips.

Read the rest on AO3 or under the cut:

Evil root beer is not meant to be served warm.

“Okay, yeah, experiment’s over,” Shadow gags, pouring the contents of his stein into the kitchen sink.

Vio winces at the waste. “To be fair, some beverages can be served hot and cold.” He retrieves the pot from the stovetop and begins to wash it, while Shadow sits up on the counter. His expression, Vio can’t help but notice, is almost comically sour.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Vio says, reaching for a sponge.

“It was pretty bad,” Shadow disagrees with an exaggerated shiver. “Oh hey, Pinecone.”

Their cat acknowledges them with a glance as she wanders into the tiny kitchen, headed straight for her food bowl. Wet food waits for her, as always.

Vio turns off the faucet and places the the pot on the drying rack, joining Shadow on the counter. “I know what might get the taste out of your mouth,” he says with a smirk.

Shadow returns it. “Yeah? I’d test that theory.”

Skrch-skrch-skrch.

Their attention returns to Pinecone, who scrapes the tile beside her food bowl with one dainty paw. After a moment of expressing her displeasure, she gives her roommates an indignant stare.

“Why?” Vio exclaims, gesticulating his offense. “It’s the same exact food as usual!”

“Relax,” Shadow says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.”

“You’ll… what?”

Shadow winks, and suddenly he’s not Shadow at all. A lean black cat with familiar eyes replaces him on the counter, taking a quick second to nuzzle against Vio’s leg before he hops onto the floor.

Vio frowns. “Oh, right.”

Shadow crosses over to join Pinecone at her bowl, trilling a friendly greeting towards his three-legged friend. Pinecone sniffs him for only a second before she bonks his forehead.

They two cats communicate in a series of meows and chirps, none of which Vio can understand. After an especially long monologue from Pinecone, Shadow nods and leans down to sample some of her freshly-served, perfectly good chicken pate. After a few bites he consults with Pinecone once again, and then makes his way back to Vio on the counter.

Vio gives Shadow a full-body pet, enjoying the way he leans into his touch. And then Real Shadow is back, doing the very same thing, only his hair is purple instead of black. Shadow’s eyes are closed and he wears the dopiest smile, almost lost in the affection.

Vio clears his throat. Shadow opens one eye, as if remembering where he is and what he’s doing. He straightens his spine and leans against the kitchen backsplash.

“Well, nothing’s wrong with the food,” Shadow says, glancing over as Pinecone scrapes the floor again. “She just isn’t in the mood for chicken.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Vio huffs, crossing his arms over his sweater-clad chest. “I don’t want to waste food, and she’ll get another tin in twelve hours anyway.”

Shadow shrugs. “Seems reasonable to me. She’s fine, just being a little bit of a drama queen.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Vio teases. “Experiment’s still on the table, by the way.”

“I’ll ignore the insult if you kiss me.”

Vio indulges Shadow for only a second before he pulls away with his own exaggerated disgust. “Cat food! Your mouth tastes like cat food!”

Shadow bursts out laughing. “Sounds like someone isn’t in the mood for chicken!” Leaning back, he slams his head against the upper cabinet. “Aw, sh—”

Vio pats Shadow comfortingly as he reaches towards the shelf.

“Vi, what are you—”

Pinecone chirps happily as Vio opens a tin of tuna pate.

─────────────────

Vio found the book on cat behavior at the Castle Town library a few days ago, but this is the first time he’s actually been able to read it. Lounging on the couch beside a crackling fire, he hums as he turns the page.

A familiar chirp startles him to attention. Pinecone sits at the foot of the couch, staring intently towards Vio’s lap. He smiles, shifts his book to an admittedly less comfortable position, and pats the wool blanket. “You can come up.”

And so she does, immediately claiming her favorite spot on Vio’s stomach. She circles for only a moment before collapsing, resting her chin on his chest and meeting his eyes. He senses the soft rumble of a purr, and watches as she begins to knead the soft blanket.

It’s a weird angle, but Vio still manages to check the book’s index for ‘kneading.’

Kneading, also known as ‘making biscuits,’ is an instinctive feline soothing behavior.

Vio looks fondly down at his feline. “Are you making biscuits, Pinecone?”

She trills and kneads harder.

“Biscuits are in the oven!” announces Shadow, standing in the doorframe between their kitchen and den. He has flour all over his black apron, and looks very proud of his hard work.

Pinecone hops off Vio’s lap to rub against Shadow’s leg, and Vio finds himself on his feet as well. “You’ve got some flour on your face,” he observes, stepping closer.

Shadow smirks. “Totally not on purpose.”

“Of course not,” Vio agrees, running a finger gently down the other man’s cheek. He wipes the flour onto Shadow’s apron, and then pulls him by the waist for a kiss.

─────────────────

“Can you maniacs please get the zoomies one at a time?” Vio complains, seated at the kitchen table with a stack of handwritten notes and a warm cup of tea.

Pinecone responds by running straight into a wall.

Shadow, meanwhile, has been bouncing his leg uncontrollably for the past fifteen minutes. Vio finally leans down to place a gentle hand on Shadow’s knee, steadying both his partner and the table itself.

“I know the meeting was long,” he says, meeting Shadow’s eyes. “But we need to finalize this summary while the discussion is still fresh in our minds.”

Shadow glances longingly towards the den, where Pinecone gives an enchantingly peculiar yowling performance.

“She’s fine,” Vio reassures him. “Normal feline behavior, my book said so.”

Shadow sighs, trying his best to settle. “Yeah. I know. I can focus.”

Vio kisses his cheek, free to work uninterrupted for several peaceful minutes.

That is, until he hears the scraping.

Vio’s head shoots up, startling Shadow enough that he freezes mid-action. He appears to have been slowly sliding Vio’s mug closer to the table’s edge.

“What are you doing?” Vio asks, raising an eyebrow.

Shadow appears genuinely confused by his own strange impulse. “I… I’m not sure.” He pulls back his hand and examines it, bewildered. “It’s like I got possessed or something.”

They both hear a loud crash from the den.

Sighing, Vio caps his pen. “Wanna go see what she broke?”

Shadow is already gone.

─────────────────

This is the third dead thing Pinecone has brought him in a week. Vio winces down at the mouse’s corpse, only wincing harder at his cat’s self-satisfied expression.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he mutters, toeing the ‘gift’ with a sock-clad foot. “Where’s Shadow? He’s supposed to be watching you.”

Pinecone is almost entirely an indoor cat, but during the late autumn Shadow allows her to accompany him into the yard while he chops firewood. Vio can’t really blame Shadow for losing sight of the cat, who at the end of the day is naturally inclined to hunt and present trophies to the people she loves.

“Good kitty,” Vio tells Pinecone, petting her soft little head. She preens.

“Please tell me the cat’s inside,” Shadow calls from the front door, shutting it quickly behind him to keep out the November chill.

From his cozy spot in the den, Vio smiles. “Yes, she’s in here.”

Shadow stumbles into the room, wrapped up in a black and red flannel, still clutching Vio’s Four Sword. “I’m so sorry,” he says, slightly out of breath. “I was trying really hard to split this one stubborn log, and—”

Vio stands up and grabs Shadow by the waist, enjoying the lingering smell of trees.

“Hi,” Shadow tells Vio, tenderly stroking his back. “I’m a little sweaty, are you sure you want to hug me right now?”

“Too late.”

“Ah, I see Pinecone has brought you another present,” Shadow observes, somewhere between amused and disgusted. “I’m surprised she was able to do it in only a few minutes.”

Vio smirks, out of sight. “What a pragmatic little creature.”

Pinecone trills—probably at a bird out the window, but Vio likes to think she understands.

“She learned from the best,” says Shadow, and Vio pulls back to meet his eyes. His hands wander from Shadow’s waist to the pocket of his flannel, which contains… something?

Shadow blushes, and Vio loves that Shadow can still, once in a while, have his bashful moments. “It’s nothing, really, just…”

Vio withdraws the object from Shadow’s pocket and holds it between them. It’s a rock about the size of his palm, ash-brown, with strange irregular jutting edges. Shadow sighs and turns it over in Vio’s hand, revealing a smooth caramel-colored face.

“Found it and thought you’d be interested,” Shadow explains, still slightly embarrassed. “Could make a nice paperweight, too.”

Vio searches his brain for any knowledge of the peculiar specimen. “Petrified wood,” he vaguely recalls. “It’s sort of a fossil, I think. At some point, this area was affected by a volcano, or just a lot of fire, and the trees went through a sort of mineralization process.”

“Do you think that’s because of me?”

Vio blinks, genuinely puzzled by the question.

“Because of all the fire,” Shadow clarifies. “And the volcano.”

Vio releases a short laugh, but stops himself immediately. Shadow is genuinely concerned, he wants to take this seriously. “Love,” he says, reaching for his partner’s flannel-clad arm, “this is a fossil. Its creation might as well be ancient history.”

Shadow exhales. “Oh. Right.”

Vio feels Shadow’s muscles loosen—which, by the way, have become noticeably more pronounced since Shadow started chopping firewood.

“It’s just weird,” Shadow continues, not appearing to notice the blush on Vio’s face. “I know it’s been, like, more than a year since I did those awful things, but I still…”

“I love it,” Vio says, turning the rock over in his hand. It reminds him of sunset dragon rides, the heat of the Fire Temple, the sweet taste of marshmallows roasted over fires they set together. “Thank you, Shadow.”

In retrospect, Vio knows he probably shouldn’t have been so permissive of Shadow doing villainous things to impress him back in their evil days. It’s something Blue, Green, Zelda, and even Shadow himself have all since commented on, with various degrees of moral judgment. And to his credit, Vio typically attempts to walk it back, to express retroactive distaste for Shadow’s more violent and macabre ‘gifts.’

But deep down, some part of Vio will always take pleasure in the degree to which Shadow will go to prove his devotion.

“We should probably dispose of the dead mouse, though,” Shadow mutters against Vio’s lips.

From beneath them, Pinecone hisses.

─────────────────

The frequency of cat purring has been shown to fall between 25 and 140 Hz. The same frequency has been shown to aid in the healing of broken bones, joint and tendon repair, and wound healing. The combined effects of their relaxing presence and their purr make cats powerful against stress and anxiety. Cat owners report that—

“Put down the book,” Shadow mutters into Vio’s shoulder. “You need to rest.”

Vio sniffles and does as he’s told. Shadow holds him closer, pulling Red’s handmade quilt from fully over them both.

“You’re lucky,” Vio says, his throat dry, “that you don’t get sick very often. It sucks.”

Shadow hums sympathetically. “Strong immune system means I can still hold you, contagion be damned.”

“Are you sure that’s, like, a real thing?”

Shadow kisses the side of Vio’s forehead. It’s warm from his fever, but colder than it had been a few hours ago.

“Hi, Pinecone,” says Vio as the cat joins them in bed. She goes straight to Vio’s chest, plopping down and rolling on her side. Shadow scritches her soft belly with one hand and rubs Vio’s side with the other.

Pinecone’s purrs are immediate and much louder than usual. With wonder in his eyes, Vio gently presses two fingers to her throat. It vibrates steadily under his touch, and a slight press seems to make the purrs even louder.

“I’ll research her anatomy later,” Vio decides. “Too tired now.”

“Good idea,” Shadow says, completely earnest. “I love it when you know your limits.”

Vio musters the energy to roll his eyes. “Well now I have to—uh, Shadow?”

“Hm?”

Vio raises both eyebrows, turning his head to see Shadow’s face. “Are you purring?”

After a second of consideration, Shadow presses two fingers to his own throat. “Huh,” he remarks, self-satisfied. “Would you look at that.”

“Have you always been able to purr?” Vio asks, a little too weak to muster appropriate levels of bewilderment.

Shadow shakes his head. “Must have picked it up from shapeshifting into a cat so often. Neat.”

Vio has so many questions. Does this mean Shadow could just take on any quality he pleases? Could he take on more feline features, like really sharp claws and fangs? Just how weird can he get with this, if he so chooses? Because Vio already has a thing for his fangs, and—

Shadow purrs louder, adding to Pinecone’s steady rumbling. Vio shakes his head, too sick and too comfortable to stress.

─────────────────

“Please bite me somewhere less obvious next time,” Vio tells Shadow, wrapping a scarf around his neck. Shadow pouts, already bundled up for the snowy walk into castle town, and bats at the scarf’s fringes.

“They look nice,” he says, only earning a huff. Vio agrees completely, but one of them has to at least pretend to care about propriety. “Got your library book, nerd?”

Vio holds up the text on feline behavior. “Got it.” He then tucks it safely inside the tote bag they use at the farmer’s market when it’s in season.

Scritch-scritch-scritch.

“Oh, come on,” Vio mutters, craning his head towards the den. “Pinecone, not the couch! Red just helped us reupholster that thing!”

The scratching stops for a moment, then starts again. Vio pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, love,” Shadow says, although Vio knows he’s more amused than apologetic. “I think we’re just going to have to accept a certain degree of property defacement. Take it as a compliment—she only wants to claim what’s hers.”

Vio sighs. “Yeah, whatever.”

Shadow removes Vio’s scarf, scrunches it into a ball, and tosses it into the den.

─────────────────

Shadow works in the kitchen again, while Vio and Pinecone share the couch in front of a crackling fire. She’s right on his chest again, purring away, staring directly into his eyes. Vio is still disappointed that he can’t talk to her directly, but borrowing the feline behavior book definitely helped him understand her. Vio will always treasure the unique bond they share, even if it’s not as verbose as hers and Shadow’s.

Pinecone blinks slowly.

“I love you, too,” says Vio.

Shadow abruptly leans into the den, holding a wooden spoon covered with pumpkin soup. “Did you say something?”

Vio smirks, bumping Pinecone’s forehead. “Not to you.”

Shadow traces Vio’s gaze to Pinecone as she slow blinks again. He smiles, shakes his head, and leaves them to their conversation.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

September 25th - Masquerade / Puppets

The flowers of the City of Flowers were in full bloom of the autumn season, the dahlias were beautiful in various colors spread across the garden beds of homes, and beautiful reddish to yellow sunflowers stock the fields wildly like a fresh oil painting.

Little chimes of bells echo the cobblestone paths of the beautiful town rich in history as a little girl runs across. Her hair was dark as a raven’s wing, her skin a snow white, her adorable bare feet decorated in a little link of bells mimicking a fairy’s whisper in every step she takes.

A shadow flew above her before two strong arms scooped her up, earning a squeal from her tiny body. Emerald gray eyes look up, the girl giggles a fanged grin, “Papa!”

Footsteps walk forward, causing the two to look up to witness a group of people walking towards them. Two redheads, two blonds, two hairs of flame, two hairs of green, two separate shades of light, and two hairs of dark, each of them a child of two in toe.

Dark lips stretch into a warm smile as the royal back bends straight, cradling his child in his arms still. “Welcome my dear friends.”

The warm taste of French Vanilla lotte dances across taste buds as chocolate and bread fills the sense of smell as sixteen males sit in a local cafe in the city eating a simple lunch as the autumn shines above.

A heavenly sigh is sounded as a man with short hair of gold leans back, “Comme c'est beau, to be blessed to see such beauty in a beautiful city, the red trees a perfect backdrop for my dear Roi Du Poison’s gorgeous complexion~” He said, looking lovingly at the man next to him who calmly sits his cup of coffee with little bashful reaction towards the sing-song tone of love beside him, his golden and lavender hair curled inward to a simple bun with a lone black velvet ribbon that works well with the dark turtle neck he wears.

A giggles leaves the Prince of Fae across the table, “You never change, don’t you Rook.”

Lots of things have changed since Night Raven Collage, lots of emotional changes to be more specific alongside the physicals.

Many shocking relationships began beside the obvious of Riddle’s and Ace’s, during that same time Azul Ashengrotto and Idia Shroud announced their own romance blossomed in time of Idia’s preparations of graduating. Thanks to their love, Azul’s physical appearance changed in a nice way, he looked more fed and had this happy glow about him, while Idia’s social skills have gotten so much better in both a friendly sense and business sense. The two even worked together after they both graduated their universities, with help from the Shroud family who were very happy to hear the word their eldest was in love with someone, they make about 12k Madols a year living in a lovely home by the water with their three children, twin daughters Vanessa and Melody and their son Thanatos or Than for short.

Another shock couple was actually one that to many besides the dorm leaders and those closest to them were aware until the announced wedding a full three years since graduation, Malleus Draconia, Prince of Briar Valley, most magical mage of the entire world of Twisted Wonderland, and Rollo Flamme, a once strong willed man who slowly let down his armor and hatred to all magic one faithful autumn day as today.

The pair seemed to have sensed that spark many saw the night of the beautiful masquerade event the school was invited to, but neither were ready to fully accept it. They messed with the idea a bit, yes, but it was until Malleus was getting ready to rule his kingdom did they finally accept the obvious: They were in love.

Outside of being a now crowned king, Malleus works alongside Rollo in a quaint bakery and bookshop in the countryside Briar Valley and the Shaftlands, sending nice memories and knowledge to those who leave their store. He’s a simple dragon after all, only wanting his research of gargoyles, his love, and his cottage in the forest to make him happy alongside his family including their son Philip and their daughter Esmerelda.

The least shocking of all relationships to come from the magical school was Vil Schoenheit, actor, model, icon of the ages, and Rook Hunt, proud lover of all things beauty in many ways. If you saw them in the walls and assumed they were completely platonic you were to be deemed a liar on the spot! They were constantly arm and arm, cheering meals, and even spot kissing hands or pressing their foreheads together. “But that’s just how Rook is—” People would argue then, but as soon as the posts on social media of Vil, now becoming a scriptwriter alongside his acting skills, and Rook, who has grown to be a man who travels around the world photographing and filming all the beauty not many can dare see did people suspect more to their story.

The only thing that grew as a shock was what happened after the wedding of Prince Leona Kingcholar of the Sunset Savannah and his loyal once-Vice Dormhead of Savannaclaw Ruggie Bucchi, an affair many had raised eyebrows already due to the social status clashes. . . When the blonds moved into the pleasant chateau with the recently married couple.

And there they remained living comfortably with two children to love and care for, little Princess Nahla, and brave adventurous boy Kovu who many are trying to figure out if the blond hair tied to princess’ dark hair is tied with Ruggie or one of the two or if Kovu’s dark hair was merely a chance of surprise.

Only the lab who helped them be born can now.

Now, the most shocking couples to come were the Leech twins. Yes, they are handsome, and yes they indeed come from well off families, but no one truly expected them to find anyone ever!

Well, that was until the final years of both their years did they announce the relationships of the crowned then-Prince of Briar Valley’s human family member and star of films and Fairest One of All from Royal Sword Academy.

Jade and Silver were a bit of a shock but not very surprising after graduation, the pair traveling to new adventures jotting down research and pressed plants and writing history that was long lost. Currently they live near the edge of the Queendom of Roses by the coast with their little one Bryony.

Floyd and Neige on the other hand, that was a shock the world was not ready for. After a scandalous picture of the two kissing in the street after their senior year, the world had many MANY questions. Where did they meet? What started the relationship? What drove you to him? Why him?? Etcetc.

But…in the end…they simply just… work… Them and their cute little girl.

Speaking of which—

“Serena, be careful with the doves sweet heart!”

The little girl in question looked towards her father with ebony hair and giggles before running to the kids again by the fountain.

Floyd snorts and pulls Neige back in a snuggle. “Oh relax, harp seal~” He cooed, nuzzling his sharper face, “Let her get her energy out before the wedding.”

Ace sighs, stirring his coffee with a chuckle, “I still can’t believe they’re so good together.”

Riddle quirks a brow, “Better than us?”

“Oh are you going to start an argument now?” Joked Azul, his chin resting on his folded and locked fingers with a smirk.

The adults chuckle and playfully bicker back and forth. Tales of memories are swapped.

For some it was the party that was held here in this fine city years ago while for some it was something connected to the said wedding they’re traveling for—

“But seriously, how were you so in the dark with you two?” Ace asked, his hands presenting Ortho, now much older, feeding a slice of a chocolate cake slice to a cat beastman with red wood tuff for hair.

Ah, yes, the most shocking couple. Actually, if you want to give credit, the very same couple who started two the same night. . .

8 years ago, right down to the day, a year has passed since the masquerade party of Nobel Bell Collage, a bit of a magical adventure came to present itself in front of Ace and a group of others either in need of fun or simply was dragging themselves along were whisked away by a very convincing wildly fox named Fellow Honest and his companion and cat brother Gidel with promises of everlasting fun and wonder in their carnival of nostalgia and magical dreams.

It wasn’t as whimsical as promised however, that’s how scams are at times. But, somehow, in the aftermath of it all the little robotic Shroud and the mute feline discovered they had more things in common than meets the eye.

Cue some hangouts, cuddles, some dates, and imminent approval of their older brothers until the two began a mostly secret relationship. With Ortho’s help, Gidel was able to be fed and learned to read and write much better. And with Gidels help, Ortho was able to rebel once and a while and act more like his age than before with things like ding-dong-ditching and spending a whole night watching the stars swinging on some swings in the closed parks in town.

And cue the first six months of them starting was the day a certain eel invited a certain card soldier to the Mostro Lounge for a discount, leading him in search of a plus one to join, getting turned down by Ortho since he had a mystery date that weekend, and soon leading him to asking out a certain red haired dorm leader.

And cue that date being one magical night that triggered the first romantic gesture of many between a certain merman and a certain shy gamer who was doing a helpful favor for a friend and crush and working together on making the redheads’ date more special...

"But, I guess I have to thank you, Gidel..." Mumbled Ace, his shy face a nice refreshing sight for the table since they've been used to his rebellious face for years now.

Gidel, now long since grown taller and stronger thanks to Ortho's support and the hard working job of puppet making he has now, smiles a sweet freckles smile. He brings his hands up, "[You are most welcome Ace,]" He signs, his smile never leaving his face, "[You two honestly are a great pair. And if it wasn't for you being you I wouldn't have never found my Wish Come True.]"

Ortho giggles, planting a gentle smooch against his fiancé's cheek.

OKAY, DAY THREE IS DONE!

I am currently editing this in 12:56 AM and am tired so if there's any misspellings I am sorry!!

I didn't have time to draw ALL their kids but here's Serena!

The first half was originally for the Free Day LAST YEAR so I decided for this prompt to do this as a call back among other stuff.

So the canon couples in this AU are:

Riddle and Ace

Deuce and Epel

Jack and Sebek

Ortho and Gidel

Kalim and Jamil

Malleus and Rollo

Vil and Rook with Leona and Ruggie (Yes that means they're poly I love Leovil but also adore Rookvil so MLEH-)

Trey and Cater

Azul and Idia

Jade and Silver

Floyd and Neige

Crowley, Divus, and Sam

And last minute, Fellow and Vargas. (I just think they could be a funny cute couple)

The reason only some would've been drawn is cause Esmerelda wouldn't go to NRC since she attends a school in the City of Flowers, same goes for Melody and Vanessa, and I didn't have time to draw everyone else sorry!

I do have fic PDFs ready to share/in middle of editing to share if you're curious, it's mostly stories/drabbles of the other couples, some NSFW just warning ya. Just shoot me a DM and I'll share a quickly as I can after I crash upon posting this to be Qued

EDITING RAE HERE: FORGOT THE TAG! @ridoaceweek

[happilychaengs]

valentinaversary

a/n: valentine + anniversary = valentinaversary trademarked and copyright! i also apologize if this isn't that great. lot's of weird time skips and stuff

word count: 1,633

college hanni x gender neutral reader

fluff

"fuck!"

a loud groan escapes your mouth as you drop your pencil onto the table, the lead tip landing and drawing a long streak across your notes.

"what's wrong?" a voice calls out behind you, "are you okay?"

you sigh, "no. math sucks."

you hear a short ruffling of bed sheets, a small groan, and a few soft steps on the floor leading to a pair of hands on your shoulders. a tight grip is felt as you wince aloud, a small giggle escaping from behind you. "you're too tense."

she leans over your messy notes as she tucks a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear, something that makes your heart skip a beat. "i understand none of this." she says promptly.

"great hanni. thanks." seriously. what is her problem? why did she come over here besides just to make your heart beat that much faster?

she turns her head and she smiles at you cheekily before running back to her bed and under the covers, a tiny portion of her head peeking out. "good luck!"

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself as you went back to studying. why were you even in love with this girl?

-

hanni pham. a girl you hadn't quite expected to be your roommate let alone be the object of your affections. it was ironic. you were one of the top students at your university and she... was practically the bottom of the barrel in terms of academics, only keeping her grades above the threshold to not get kicked out of drama club.

and your first ever encounter with her wasn't... expected to say the least. you moved away from your parents and your home very unexpectedly. it was a bold choice for you as you always stuck by your family's side and listened to the lesson hammered into your mind.

surround yourself with success.

everyone saw your parents and siblings as the ultimate success story and you're obviously constantly compared to the prestige that your family was. so much so that it became intoxicating. it was incredibly hard for you to break free from your family's grasp on you and to finally make your own choices.

but once you did, it felt exhilarating and yet at the same time it was terrifying. navigating the walks of life yourself felt like such a grueling task and when you saw the mess that lay before you as you stepped into your dorm for the first time, you thought you've made a grave mistake.

you held your feelings close to your heart as you stared at the random posters hung up on the wall of the most mysterious things. a mix of boy bands and some random plays and movies.

and then there sat a girl with her jet black hair and a pair of round glasses on a big green beanbag chair. she donned a sleek denim jacket on as she turned around to the sound of the door opening.

then she smiled. "hi! i'm hanni!"

-

it wasn't one specific event that caused you to fall for hanni or was it something she did. it was just who she was that drawn you towards her. she was everything your family told you to stay away from. in their eyes, she'd probably be the definition of failure but in yours, she was amazing. a breath of fresh air.

you recall one time when she had brought a whole new joy to your life. she had brought you along to one of her drama recitals under the pretense that she needed help studying despite not knowing you very well and to say you were furious was an understatement.

"seriously, hanni? i'm leaving if this is all you wanted to show me." your body promptly turned around as you started walking to the door.

"wait!" she shouts from behind you. you feel your arm being dragged back as your body almost falls over.

"what?" you huff.

"just stay and watch for 10 minutes. please. if you don't like it, then you can leave."

this was cutting into your studying. this was a waste of time but the look in her eyes seemed to coerce you into thinking otherwise.

"fine. 10 minutes. that's it."

she jumps up victoriously as she gives you a quick hug before running backstage. "thank you so much, y/n! you won't regret it!"

you dusted off your shirt before you sat down on a nearby chair, waiting on hanni and the rest of her club to get prepared.

but honestly speaking, just waiting took longer than 10 minutes but something in you told you to stay. to stay and watch hanni and it was so so worth it. it was a classic romeo and juliet performance, hanni obviously playing juliet and when she came out in a golden satin dress, your eyes seemed to never look away at her. never wandering.

she wore a pair of white gloves and a pair of leather black shoes. you weren't sure if this was the image shakespeare had in mind but it didn't matter to you at the time.

when she started beginning to recite her lines, you began to get lost in her voice, not really paying attention to anything else. you heard the way her voice goes down and up at some parts, her intonation practically perfect. the words rolled off her tongue in such a musical fashion.

by the end of it, you weren't really sure how much time passes by but when she finally finished her recitals for the play, she looked over to you and the surprise on her face was unbelievable.

you stayed.

-

that love for dramas and plays of hanni's quickly became yours as you started joining her in her late night sessions of watching anything and everything on her laptop. you started attending every one of her recitals. you even went to her actual play, to which you said she performed beautifully but obviously not to her face.

you started noticing the little things you stopped doing once you started living with her. your language became more relaxed. it lost the poised, prim and proper nature to it as you started talking more casually to her.

and then it was the way you started studying less, having more fun with her. she brought you around the university to where you really began seeing the beauty of life.

you admired her for that. and unsurprisingly, you started to like her. a lot more than platonically. but despite it, you knew that it'd be one sided. hanni was an outgoing and very popular student among your peers and you'd probably just be another person added on her long list of admirers. so you never took your chances. living with her was enough for you until one fateful valentine's day.

-

it was a free day for you today. no classes or anything but hanni had some meeting with her club. as you got out of the shower with a towel on your head, the next thing you see caught you by surprise. it sat there on your desk, practically taunting you. it was a velvet heart-shaped box, a small piece of paper taped onto the top of it.

"i like you"

your heart sunk at the thought of hanni, the person you've gotten to know over the course of the year and the person you called your best friend, liking someone else. did she leave this here for you to wallow in all of your worries before she got back? was it for you to panic and just sit here, nervous for her to walk through the door?

because it was working.

your heart pounded against your chest as you held the box in your hands. as you eyed the box, you couldn't help but want to open it and see what was inside, and so you quickly did. inside was a copious amount of chocolate, pink macadamia nuts, which was your favorite but that had to be coincidence.

you put the box in the air and examined it all around, not really sure if there was any indication for who it was. but then the door unexpectedly swings wide open revealing the black haired girl in all her entirety.

"y/n?"

your eyes shoot wide open as you put the box down and shut it closed quickly. "hanni! what's wrong? i thought you had a meeting!"

"i forgot something." she says as she saunters her way over to you, eyeing the box on your table. "here it is."

and your eyes dart back to the velvet box, her picking it up in her hands. "do you want to know who it's for?"

you feign ignorance to the fact that it's even valentine's to shield yourself from the fact that the person she's giving it to isn't you. "is it someone's birthday?"

her brows furrow as she sticks the box out for you to see, "no. it's for you. and for the record i saw you holding it so don't lie to me. you suck at it. you always look away from me when you do."

-

"what are you thinking about?" you felt a finger prod at your cheek as you're dragged out of your thoughts. "i thought you were doing math?"

"it's nothing."

you can hear her smirk through her teasing tone, "are you thinking about me?"

your cheeks flush red as you avoid her gaze, "no."

"look me in the eyes and say that again."

"..."

"so you are thinking about me!" she plants a light kiss on your cheeks. you see a small velvet box being slid under your arm and onto your desk as you rolled your eyes at the strange name she came up with.

"happy valentinaversary!"

[screamingmandrakes]

Dilf Tom Riddle is Back Y’all

An excerpt from my WIP rewrite of my very first HP fic Cashmere, Cologne, and Hot Sunshine that I wrote for a fest back in 2022.

(Legal) Age Gap. Tom is Mr. Granger’s hot college friend and Hermione is feral (TM)

Forfeiting her tedious work, she turns, feeling her dress chafe against her sunburnt skin as she gazes on through the dimming daylight. Her eyes brush over a glossy black car, seemingly out of place beside the beat-up station wagon. The door swings open, devoid of the irritating creak of aged hinges.

At first all there is to see is a full head of hair, inky curls peeking over the car door. As he straightens himself out, his figure faintly illuminated by the distant glow of fireflies, Hermione first takes notice of his clothes; a loose fitting, dark green henley shirt, outlining a lean yet masculine form. Under the dwindling sun, she makes out the subtle lines around his mouth, characteristic of a smoker.

Her gaze sweeps over his face, past the speckled brown of his eyes and the slant of his nose, back down to his lips before she thinks, ‘Oh.’

Her hand settles aimlessly on the shovel staked into the soil. She’s not gawking at him — no, of course not. Hermione Granger doesn’t gawk. This is just another one of her father’s boring, droll friends. Nothing remarkable. Nothing new.

“Tom!” Her father shouts. He shoves himself off the ground, leaving Hermione alone in the dirt. Her knees have sunken into the garden bed, a sheen film of grime stuck to her like a second skin. The air is muggy and crickets chirp from the trees as Hermione watches her father embrace Tom with an arm around his shoulder.

Ms. Granger surges after her husband, arms wide and open as Hermione’s father releases Tom. Crow's feet form at the corners of Tom's eyes, accompanied by a gentle smile as it splits across his face. His lips peel back, unveiling rows of tiny, white teeth. Hermione's eyes linger on his shirt, stretching across his body and accentuating his shoulder blades as he reciprocates the elder Granger's embrace. Briefly, she wonders what his skin is like underneath.

It is an embrace of old friends, nothing more and nothing less, as Tom holds her mother at arm’s length. Hermione breaks her stare, glancing back at his car. Her eyes roam over the tinted windows and the clean, shiny curves, reassuring herself that she isn't searching for a wife or kids.

Oh my god.

She snaps back to the shovel half dug into the ground, allowing her hair to fall in front of her face as scarlet blazes across her cheeks. Only then is she grateful for the treacherous weather, welcoming it as a scapegoat for the fact she’s burning brighter than a tomato. She stabs the shovel further into the soil as Tom laughs, soft and genuine. She has to sit through dinner with this man.

Her father’s gaze burns into her back, wordlessly encouraging her to welcome their guest. She sucks in a sharp, apologetic breath.

So much for being nice.

How mortifying is she, gaping at her father’s friend? And not without notice, she’s sure. She glances toward the door. It isn’t too far, though she might have to hurry if she wants to get inside before somebody notices her sprinting for her life. Her mom won’t be that upset if she ditches dinner just this one time. Hermione’s been in alignment with her whole good girl identity without fail before this, she has the right to flee just this once.

She inhales deeply, casting a cautious look over her shoulder, concealed only by the disheveled coils of hair in her face. Instant regret slams into her, taking her breath with it.

It is not her father watching her.

It’s Tom, and he’s smiling.

[suitov]

Most onlookers, on witnessing the deformed, shuddering... well, call it a scribble across the page of reality, that was how it felt to behold... anyway, most people had run away screaming into their phones, or just screaming, and that was why ordinary people were just the absolute worst. He couldn't stand them.

The entity juddered like a visual artifact on a too-compressed video. It seemed to leave smears of black across the night as it shrank back, wrapping its overlong arms around its head. Or where the head would be, if you designed a body under all the - fur? Hair? Feathers?

He reached out his left hand without fear or hesitation and touched the... well, call it the presumed-head area until experimentation proved otherwise. His fingers sank into deep, matted fur. He felt structure underneath, muscle and bone and - ah. Teeth. Well, losing a hand today would be quite unexpected! What kind of good luck would follow something like that, he wondered?

The entity had stopped moving, other than the rapid, almost panting breaths. Huh. Emboldened, he felt around in the long, lank hair. The forelimbs shifted in what felt almost like permission. So. There was definitely a skull and it didn't feel human. Surely it was too large. Underneath - it tilted upwards. Allowing him? There was a long, broad muzzle. The teeth had disappeared now, behind hairy lips.

There was something wrong with the neck, but he couldn't tell what. His fingers came away slippery. He couldn't grip whatever it was that cut into the oddly warm flesh, and the entity flinched when his hand blundered into it.

He withdrew, suddenly feeling guilty for the overstep. Here he was again, being terrible at boundaries. He just didn't know when to stop. This was probably why people hated him. One of the many valid reasons!

He was wondering whether to apologise - whether the entity even understood speech - when the world closed its mouth around him and swallowed.

Darkness. Sound-deadening darkness pricked by clusters of tiny blue-green glow. Wow! This was some hallucination! He blundered towards some of the little lights. Tiny cubes and cuboids of what felt like glass, apparently growing out of the blackness, which was rubbery with a slight give to it. Every direction he reached, he found the same surface, dotted every so often by more of the lights. He thought to raise his hands - yes, his fingertips barely brushed a ceiling. Wherever they'd gone, this was inside. Room, tunnel, cave... organ?

And yes, it was they. The entity - he struggled to cut through the darkness enough to see it - was low to the ground, breathing hard and fast. He cautiously approached. There was a sound you could just about imagine a hurt dog making, if the dog were made of thunder and heresy and trapped inside a lead box pasted over with talismans that maybe weren't quite effective enough.

He sat against the entity - if he leaned back, his head wouldn't quite reach the top of what was probably its back - and placed a hand on its heaving side. There seemed to be no objection. They stayed like that for a little while, until he noticed the glow from those things embedded in the walls was very gradually brightening.

It was far from daylight - barely outmatching a night light, except there were more of them - but at least he could indulge his intrusive, and likely horrendously rude, curiosity. Just what was he cosied up to and caressing? Because, indeed, he'd started to ease his fingers through the least tangled areas of fur. And he had not, so far, been stopped.

But he did pause when he realised the entity had curled its neck and rear legs around him, and that directly in front of his face, now his vision could finally make it out, was an eye.