#FREED RAZOR

[huang0415]

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[onefey]

there's probably a post like this out there already but: i'm very very curious what everyone's first playthrough of slay the princess was like. which five vessels in what order (and what ending you got first, if you like.)

[tecchan]

So I finished Room No.9 yesterday, and boy am I thankful for the option to turn off scat stuff. They really had to make the enema scene slightly different in each route so you'd have to read the whole thing again every time huh?

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!

"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.

"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.

"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."

"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.

You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.

After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd be available. But he never responded.

So your mood has been a bit damp all day.

You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.

What certainly doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.

You've never seen her around.

Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.

They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.

Talk about a slap in your face.

For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.

But that thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor-sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.

Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.

All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.

You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.

When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.

Upon spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.

"Yes." You nod, "I am."

"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"

"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."

"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.

"We both agreed." You concur.

Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."

You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.

The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.

Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work again?"

Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.

"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.

When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."

"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.

"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.

"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."

Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.

"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.

This is suddenly getting very exhausting.

You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."

Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."

"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.

The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.

You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.

It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.

You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.

Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.

"So, are you gonna do it?"

"Do what?" Was she in your head?

"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'

"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.

"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.

"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.

Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"

You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."

Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.

"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"

It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.

"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.

Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.

Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.

You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.

So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.

His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?

Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.

Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.

here's the next installment: dating girl (jjk) #2.1

note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!

hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D

[ssvbse]

Suit & Tie

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x F!Reader | 1.2k

Summary: Attempting to impress you, Logan gets tangled in a suit.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Logan's self conscious, reader works in some kind of a prestigious environment

"Logan?" you called, announcing yourself. You brushed your knuckles across the cracked door. "Are you almost ready?"

Audibly bristling in frustration, he halted your probing with a strike to the door. Wood to wood, the door rattled within its frame, a hairline fracture sprouting from the fitted handle.

His voice was muffled by a screwed jaw: "Don't come in."

You frowned, trying the loosened handle only to feel a countering weight keeping the door closed.

"Do you need help with anything?" you asked.

"No!" he snarled, a second thud shuddering the entirety of the door. The metallic handle promptly fell from its compromised cavity, just missing your foot as it dented the cheap wood flooring. "No, I don't need your help."

You pursed your lips. "Do you want me to call Wade? I know he's not great at helping with..." You thought for a moment. "...anything I s'pose, but maybe–"

"No!" he repeated. "No, I don't need help. Just—just give me a damn second–"

The door dipped beneath his weight, and he growled out of frustration, the crack webbing out along the strain.

"Logan," you murmured, sliding your finger along the splitting wood. "Why don't you open up."

He sighed, exasperation tearing a whine from his throat and the dent in the door lifted. You gently insisted it open, his tower shadow consuming you.

"Now, don't tell me you're getting cold feet about this–" you murmured lightly, only to struggle to complete the humorous attempt as your mouth dried.

Burned by a razor, hair slicked back to his skull, and a tie wound around his suit collar like a noose, Logan looked like he had been banished to Hell.

"'Picture would last longer," he grunted, crossing his arms. The poorly tailored fabric strained around the mass of his muscle, the taunt stitches wrinkling the sleeves.

"Logan..." you said, approaching him.

"Don't 'Logan' me," he snapped, turning away as his neck flushed red. "I look like an idiot."

"You don't look like an idiot," you said, struggling to fight off the smile crinkling your eyes as you smoothed your hand down his jacket. The blazer struggled to stretch over the expanse of his chest, hugging tight to the cups of his shoulders and surely digging into the hollows of his arms.

You flicked the tie knotted around his neck, eyes flitting up to his.

"Were you trying to hang yourself?"

The blush crept up to his cheeks, and he grunted.

"Funny," he bit, looking away as you untangled the fabric from his irritated throat. "'Soundin' better and better by the second."

"I must've gotten here just in time then," you said, watching the hair along his neck raise as you freed him of the constriction. He swallowed, defined Apple bobbing around a thick wad of embarrassment.

You smoothed your thumb over the tie, straightening the wrinkles. "'Wade put you up to this?"

You received only a stiff nod in response as you tossed the tie back around his neck.

"I'm assuming the hair is his handy-work, too?"

His heavy eyes bore into yours.

"You're teasing me."

"No," you said, the tips of your lips riding the apples of your cheeks. "Just curious of what he thought when he saw you like this."

He watched your fingers artfully braid the tie.

"'Doesn't matter what he thinks," Logan said, looking away again. "Wasn't tryin' to do it for him."

You straightened the flaps of his blazer and tucked the tie behind them. "All this suffering just for me then, huh?"

"'m not sufferin'," he murmured, though the stutter in his exhale said differently. "'Just wanted to–" He swallowed "–look normal..." his eyes found yours, "for you," and they flickered away, "for once."

Your lips rounded around an expression of surprise and collapsed a moment later.

"Oh," you said. "Did Wade say something?"

"'Course he fucking did," he huffed as he rolled his shoulders back. His imposing posture nearly split the seam along his bulging delts. "'Moron can't keep his damn mouth shut. 'Just lookin' to piss me off."

You followed the fold of his coat, straightening the flaps and adjusting his twisted, undershirt collar.

"Little brothers tend to do that," you said, smoothing your hand over the tense line of his shoulders. His nostrils flared as he warmed your face with a heated exhale. "Especially when they know they'll get a big reaction."

His chin jutted out in stubbornness.

"'Not that big of a reaction."

You caught his arm as he drew them to his chest in an attempt to shield your subtle prying, slipping your hot thumb beneath the cuff of his undershirt and pressing the pad to his pulse point.

"You're in a suit, Logan," you said, a smile blessing your face as you slid your hand along his smooth cheek, caressing the fresh skin. "You shaved. What did that poor man say to you?"

Firm lines marred his reluctant expression, his messily trimmed brows knitting together with a tangle of sheepish wrinkles.

"'s nothin'," he murmured, brushing you off. "'Just mentioned one of your coworker's 's all."

Your brows brushed your hairline.

"'Said you'd—" relaying the words seemed to pain him, "been... showing interest lately." He inhaled sharply, rolling his jaw. "'Said you deserved a proper man," he said, gesturing to the invisible foe, "like one of them."

His frown dug deep into his cheeks as his arm fell back to his side. "Not a hairy, sweaty beast," he said, finally meeting your eyes, "like me."

You studied his face, watching the way his jaw jumped to the rhythm of his bouncing lip.

"So you... borrowed Wade's suit and..." you gently insisted his chin up, studying the damage the razor had done to the line of his jaw, "and shaved?"

"If you want a proper man, I'll give you a proper man."

You pursed your lips, finally taking in the entirety of what this was.

A mask—a facade of peer-induced self loathing.

Gently, you insisted the front of his blazer open, undoing the top buttons of his undershirt. Under the restricting white fabric was the expanse of his freed, sun-kissed skin. A grove of soft, curly black hair rolled over the golden fields of his chest.

You leaned in closer, nose prickly at the comforting, woodsy smell of Logan, his musk no longer suffocated by the artificial smell Wade had surely lent him.

You dragged your nose up, pressing a sweet kiss to the pit of his collarbone, humming at the way his breath hitched.

"It's a good thing I don't want a proper man then," you murmured, raking your hand through his hair and breaking up the greasy mess, "isn't it?"

He blinked, taut expression finally giving some slack. Where once lay doubt, now settled resolve, and a relieved smile tugged at his lips.

"Yeah," he murmured, barely biting back his grin, "'spose that's good."

"Good," you said, ensuring the top buttons of his dress shirt remained undone and making quick work of undoing the tie.

"Shave again, and I'll kill you, Howlett, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

[2-dsimp]

Yandere clown humiliates your mean ex and makes you laugh

[Y̾AͣN̾TͭOͦB𞀓EͤRͬ DͩAͣY̾ 5 Iͥmͫaͣg̾iͥn̾eͤ: K̾iͥl̾l̾eͤrͬ Cͨl̾oͦw𞀞n̾ f̾tͭ!]

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

Cw: suggestive! Cannibalism, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Pyrok hates your ex-boyfriend and wants to eat him.

Synopsis: All you wanted was an antique doll from the antique store that was down the road from your home. But instead you get a murderous alien killer clown doll instead. With a long line of history for being known as the boogeyman who terrorized the districts of Devildom centuries ago.

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

Thinking about a yandere Killer Clown! that was hexed by a powerful mage centuries ago for going on a killing spree. Cannibalizing the townsfolk like the neighborhood boogeyman. Within Devildom and leaving a trail of gnawed bones and flesh.

Yandere Killer Clown! Cursed to be a doll, with his alien features wiped from his face so he’d be looking like a blank faced mannequin. While his features were transferred onto the plate masks of varying expressions adorning his hip belt. To be kept under lock n key, shipped straight to an antique shop. Where he laid wasting away for centuries with only a mean grudge to his name. Until you came and bought the box out of curiosity.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who at first plays pretend when you open the box. Remaining dead in his doll form just to get a picture of who exactly his new owner was. And whether or not he should kill you and run away now that he’s been freed. There were many nights where he had his blank face jutted down at you.

Sitting on your chest as you breathed whilst his porcelain hand pressed against his mask which shifted into a ravenous expression. Razor teeth jutting out, with a long tongues slithering from the bottomless hole within the masks holes. Eyes boring into you, Always waiting for a chance of when you’d neglect him. Or forget to shine his porcelain body and dress him up in his favorite frills everyday. Any excuse to get rid of you but so far there was nothing.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who after a couple weeks, grew too comfortable being hugged and fawned over in his stay with you. He always wore his happy mask when he was in your presence. However, every time you left and came back you noticed how his mask switched from happy to angry.

The masks soulless eyes seemed to be glaring at you with intensity as if knowing whatever sin you committed to warrant the clowns wrath. Yeah he knew all about that wretched ex boyfriend you kept going on and off with. And it made his hollowed brain rattle violently with murderous and envious thoughts.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who became a touch more realer with every laugh he coaxed from you lips. Whether it be by his switch up in masks. (which always left you with whiplash from how it was even possible for him to do that.) Or from his out of context voice lines that had a morbid humorous edge with insults for your ex-boyfriend.

“Tiny pecker, Tiny pecker, Exy has a tiny pecker! Chop it off, lest it don’t grow any bigger!”

The past few days you could never find peace as strange things had started happening around you. More specifically with the clown doll, every time you went to polish him he felt colder than usual. And his edgy joints were less prominent with a softer more flexible edge. The kicker was that whenever you’d go to sleep. You’d always feel something breathing on you. But you chalked it up to an air drift from the window you cracked open.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who is garbling ancient enchantments via mask. Which enabled him to have an outlet to express himself. As his pointed claws surgically traced his signature sigil on your chest. the happy mask’s manic grin started growing eerily wider. At seeing the reddened glow of his brand on you. Which made the bond you two shared to be completely permanent.

This new status would allow him much more freedom. To battle against the croons curse which had limited his former self. However, it was incomplete, it was one sidedly done after all. So he needed you to do the same onto him.

You needed to Let him in.

Thanks to your intervention in his life there was so much he wanted to do. First thing on the list would be getting rid of that old croon’s curse on his body once and for all. The second would be eliminating that ex boyfriend of yours.

And lastly…Having you to be his brood mother to repopulate his alienkind of was also one of his goals. After all you were the perfect fit. You’ve already shown such potential in being his mate, by tending to him everyday and night. He’d be sure to return the favor tenfold keep you well fed, protected, and cherished.

All you had to do was Let. Him. Inside of you.

——————/—————

A/n: Decided to make an attempt on doing spooky yantober entry XD

Lmk if y’all would want to see more of him. 👀

Also I think I’ve finally did all the yandere alphabet letters woohoo 🎉

[fashion-runways]

UNDERCOVER Spring/Summer RTW 2024 if you want to support this blog consider donating to:ko-fi.com/fashionrunways

When the lights went down, guests thought the show was over, but instead, three models in strapless dresses floated down the runway, appearing to glow from within. Their clear skirts were serving as terrariums, specked with real flowers and filled with live butterflies dancing about. Backstage, the designer mentioned morality and shared that he was grieving for people he was close to. His translator said, “He feels like he’s stuck in the world, but he wants to release himself.” Throughout the collection, Takahashi expressed this idea literally, with the sheer materials of his garments revealing items like playing cards or razors. He took banal instances of humanity, often just hidden away in pockets, and put them on display behind shrouding, transforming them into something phantasmagorical. But nothing felt more otherworldly than his terrarium dresses, which freed everyone in the audience from themselves for a brief moment of fashion fantasy. The butterflies, too, he assured us, would be released after the show.

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

““The girls are unable to say anything because they are always being policed. You can’t ask questions, you won’t get the evidence on a silver platter. But when you are going around, you hear things and see things,” Singh explains, sitting in a nondescript office, piles of cardboard files all over the floor, documenting the thousands of girls they have rescued over the years, approximately 4,000 at last count. 

“Most of the time the girls are locked up and they are only allowed out when a customer comes in. To ensure they are not interacting with the customers, the brothel keepers are always banging on the door and take away the mobiles of the customers.”

As a result of an 11-month long operation, conducted before the pandemic, Guria India were able to rescue 136 underage victims of traffickers, resulting in 61 brothels being shut down.”

In the narrow alleyways of Meerganj, the notorious red light district in the city of Allahbad, a man dressed in a brown kurta with a rucksack walks past the dilapidated brothels shouting ‘lipsticks for sale, good prices.’ 

He barely warrants a glance, one of dozens of street sellers who stroll down the alley daily, hawking their wares, a common sight in the hustle and bustle of cities in India.

Word has got around that he’s selling good quality products like Max Factor and other brands the brothel girls recognise from billboards featuring their favourite Bollywood actresses. He’s cheaper than the other sellers and lets them pay in instalments. 

A group of young girls flock to him, picking up bright lipsticks and face powders, to make them look older than they are, or perhaps not, depending on the client’s preferences.

But this is no ordinary seller. He is from Guria India, an organisation which rescues and rehabilitates women and underage girls trapped in the sex trade. 

He has been working undercover, disguised as a cosmetics seller, gathering evidence of victims of traffickers who have been forced into sex work, many of whom are underage and often thousands of miles away from home.

“You are working on a razor’s edge. There are no second chances. One wrong move and you could be killed. It’s not like a movie where you get a retake,” says Ajeet Singh, Director of Guria India.  

The nature of trafficking is changing and so activists are having to find new and innovative  means to take them on. 

Singh said he came up with the idea of posing as a make-up seller after he found that the brothel owners were always one step ahead of him. 

“It was always very difficult to rescue the girls because someone would leak the information and the brothel keepers would move the girls. The girls were not a priority for the system, so the police were not helpful. We had to be proactive in getting the evidence.”

Using rudimentary equipment he bought from Delhi, including spy cams concealed in a pen and button, he began scouring the streets of the red light district for almost a year. 

“Make-up is something very enticing for girls. If you go to India, you’ll see street sellers in every city so I knew I would blend in,” he said.

“The girls are unable to say anything because they are always being policed. You can’t ask questions, you won’t get the evidence on a silver platter. But when you are going around, you hear things and see things,” Singh explains, sitting in a nondescript office, piles of cardboard files all over the floor, documenting the thousands of girls they have rescued over the years, approximately 4,000 at last count. 

“Most of the time the girls are locked up and they are only allowed out when a customer comes in. To ensure they are not interacting with the customers, the brothel keepers are always banging on the door and take away the mobiles of the customers.”

As a result of an 11-month long operation, conducted before the pandemic, Guria India were able to rescue 136 underage victims of traffickers, resulting in 61 brothels being shut down. 

Social media ‘weapon of choice’ for traffickers

The sting, which was signed off by local people, used undercover filming to collect evidence against offenders. When enough had been gathered, ten members of the Guria India team joined police as they carried out dawn raids, using iron cutters to access properties where the victims were being held.

There are an estimated 1.2 million children under 18 working in brothels in India, many of whom have been victims of sex traffickers. Approximately 75 per cent of the cases Guria India dealt with involved under age victims ranging from just six months to 17.

The majority of these trafficked children are from lower castes and more than half of them are from families living below the poverty line.  

While many of the girls sold to brothels are trafficked by relatives or family friends, in recent years, social media, with its low-risk and high rewards, has become the weapon of choice of traffickers, luring victims in with lucrative job offers or promises of marriage. 

“The internet and exploitative romantic relationships are key factors for trafficking in recent times,” said children’s rights activist Bharti Ali.

“Often, the police don’t start their search in cases of adolescent girls immediately as they believe it to be a case of elopement. Many cases end up in girls being sold further by the boy/person they trusted or who promised them false marriage.

“When girls go missing, parents often try to search within their own community, her friends and relatives. This is when they lose critical time. When they suspect that she may have eloped, they may tend to not report at all to protect family honour … The girls too are unable to report as the traffickers keep a close watch on them.”

For victims of traffickers, their introduction into the world of prostitution is a brutal and violent one, in which they face beatings, gang rape and starvation. Some victims also reported having chilli powder placed on their genitalia and being subjected to electric shocks. 

Among the girls they have rescued is Sarita, who was just 12-years-old when she was sold to a sex trafficker by her older brother and was transported 700 km away to work in a brothel. 

“My mum was working in Mumbai and I lived with my sister. My brother was a drug addict. He told me he was taking me to see my mum but instead he sold me to a trafficker. I was locked in a room and beaten and raped by several men. I managed to find a phone and called my mum,” she said.

Sarita’s mother, along with the police and Guria India activists, were able to rescue her and relocate the family. However, the majority of victims are not so lucky. India remains a socially conservative society and victims of trafficking will often be ostracised by their families and community. 

Rescuing victims of trafficking is only half the battle, while keeping them out of the hands of traffickers presents another challenge. 

Rehabilitating victims back into a society which was already hostile to them in the first place is difficult and often the girls will end up falling back into the hands of traffickers. 

In one case, 57 girls who were rescued by Guria were sent to a shelter home in Agra for rehabilitation, but were re-trafficked by the superintendent of the centre. Just this week, the superintendent was acquitted by the Supreme Court and Guria India is currently fighting the decision. 

Despite the setbacks, Singh remains hopeful. “Although I don’t think we can eradicate child prostitution in my lifetime, I’m hopeful we can set the foundations to make the change,” he said.

And sometimes all it takes is a rucksack and a Max Factor lipstick. 

[astarionsilverbough]

Astarion is the tenderest lover Halsin has ever had.

Though no one (excluding Gale, who is, for all intents and purposes, Astarion’s best friend - though the mere utterance of such a phrase would have the vampire recoiling in disgust) would believe it, it’s true.

And the thing is - it’s not just in bed, either; as touch-averse as Astarion is (exceptions outside Halsin being Gale and Karlach), he’s incredibly tactile with Halsin. His favorite thing to do is cup the big elf’s chin and gently tug at him until he’s being kissed or to jostle him as he does with Scratch, crooning praise as he does. He tends to steer Halsin with a possessive hand hooked around the bigger elf’s elbow, razor-sharp gaze flicking about for signs of danger as they traverse their perilous path.

And as flippant and unfeeling as Astarion pretends to be, he’s… attentive. Halsin can’t hide anything from him, and as a man so used to being the one in charge, the one tending to everyone else… it’s a little jarring at first. He fights his battles alone, suffers in silence so his people remain unburdened. It is how it has to be.

How it has always been.

But Astarion always knows. The moon-kissed elf can smell the pain and angst on Halsin like a wolf scenting blood. Once, Halsin had been silent for a little too long while Astarion ranted at him about some petty argument he and Gale had had days before (one long resolved) and before Halsin could even notice that Astarion had gone quiet, the elf was standing before him and taking the damp laundry out of his hands before placing his own on either side of Halsin’s face. His thumbs sweep first over Halsin’s cheekbones, then his lips, and the heat of his body yanks Halsin out of his frigid cloud of burgeoning despair almost instantly.

“What’s this now? Why are we pouting?” Astarion hums in that sonorous, lyrical voice - the voice that soothes the thousand violent storms raging within Halsin’s great chest, “shall we run away for a while, darling? Hm? We can find a nice little nook to tuck ourselves away in - you can get all furry and primal and I’ll just bury myself up against that gorgeous belly of yours and we can play - house. Forest house. Den?”

And it’s -

“I love you,” Halsin says. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but like every time he has before, Astarion’s entire demeanor changes as soon as he registers it.

Halsin watches the welcome shift with raw need writhing in his gut - Astarion’s shoulders relax entirely, freed from the weight of his iron walls; his eyes soften and gleam with a devotion Halsin isn’t sure he deserves, and his plush lips part as the corners of his mouth curve upward in a gentle, private smile.

When that lean body presses against his own, the entire world fades. Halsin slides his hands over the vampire’s waist and part of him thinks that he was created by Silvanus just to hold the man in his arms.

“Escape with me,” Astarion groans gently against Halsin’s jaw. He commands every element Halsin is comprised of - he is the commander of the soul that aches in the cage of his bones.

“Escape with me,” the vampire purrs, soft lips ghosting against Halsin’s own, “get lost with me. Let’s pretend we’re the only ones who matter, like this world was made for only us.”

And when it comes to Astarion, no amount of selfishness could be a sin. So he lets Astarion whisk him away, lets the vampire sink his fangs in and make him forget that the rest of the world is demanding their continued sacrifice.

Astarion is the most brutally tender lover Halsin has ever had - because Astarion reminds him how to live.

[flightlessangelwings]

His Strength

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count- 3.8k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.

Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives

Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!

~

When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.

It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 

Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 

*

Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.

It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.

Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.

You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.

“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.

You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.

He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 

Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.

A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.

Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.

This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”

His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 

“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.

Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.

Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.

That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.

But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.

You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.

“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.

Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.

The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 

*

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.

Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 

The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.

Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.

“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.

You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”

Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.

A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.

Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.

He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.

*

You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.

“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.

Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.

“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.

The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.

“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.

“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”

He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.

“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.

The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.

Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”

Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.

Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.

The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.

“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.

Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."

Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…

Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 

*

Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.

“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.

Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”

“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”

He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”

“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”

“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.

Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”

Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”

“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 

He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.

“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.

As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.

Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”

Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.

Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.

As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.

“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.

You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.

Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 

[agoldengalaxy]

Love Knows No Bounds

read on Ao3

words: 2468

Suddenly, it was silent. Luigi’s ears were ringing as he pulled himself up again. At his feet, crumpled in a small ball, Mario was unmoving with tendrils of red and black seeping from his body. “Mario…?” Luigi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he hesitated, going to reach for Mario’s shoulder when a gloved hand smacked his hand away. “Leave me alone.” The voice that spoke was Mario’s, but it wasn’t him. Luigi felt lightheaded as he instinctually took a step back. Mario straightened up slowly, his normally blue eyes glowing with a sinister red energy. “This only happened because I had to protect you again.”

--

Both relief and exhaustion tugged at their shoulders as Mario and Luigi began ascending the steps together. The Extension Corps had separated them for a while, but now that they were back together again, they were intent on finishing what they started. They would bring Concordia together. They would rid this world of Glohm. They would show Zokket who he was supposed to be.

When they reached the top of the fortress, they found a long winding path ahead of them. Luigi felt a shiver run down his spine as a cold wind blew by - they were high above the ocean now, and he had no idea what to expect, or how powerful Zokket really was. Before he could take a step forward, however, Mario placed a hand on his shoulder. When Luigi looked at his brother, his eyes were both bright and determined, despite the weariness around the edges.

Luigi took a deep breath and gave an equally determined nod. He’d be okay. He always was, with Mario by his side.

Together, they made it to the end of the path. Zokket hovered in front of a colorful display, radiating with sinister energy. When he turned to address them, with soulless eyes behind a jagged white mask, he stumbled over their names before getting it right. “The Mario Bros., I believe? Not that your names particularly matter. If you’re here, I suppose that means the Extension Corps failed. I should have destroyed you myself right away.”

Zokket sounded especially bored as he mentioned his henchmen, as if he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Luigi couldn’t help but wonder why those three even worked for him in the first place.

“No matter. No matter at all. My mission will soon be complete.” Even in a moment when he should be happy, Zokket was emotionless, like a puppet without strings. He turned around to look at the thing crackling with Glohm. “My great inspiration will be reborn, and the world will be properly lonely.” He turned back around, making a noise that sounded like a sigh. “You, however, will not be there to see it.” Suddenly, electric red and black exploded from his cape, and for the first time, the brothers could catch a glimpse of emotion on his face - anger. “You interrupted the rebirth…how dare you?!”

Suddenly, Zokket lunged forward with surprising speed, his cloak billowing behind him as large hands donned huge razors made of what looked like pure Glohm. As Mario shouted in alarm and jumped out of the way, Luigi dove to the left, landing on his elbows. He quickly pulled himself up, whirling around to face the enemy again.

“Luigi!” Mario exclaimed, and, from a few feet away, they locked eyes. Luigi knew right away what he wanted to do. They each took out their hammers, sprinting around Zokket to try and disorient him, each hitting when he least expected it. After a few hits, he spread his arms and a huge burst of energy sent the brothers flying backward.

The breath was knocked right out of Luigi’s lungs. He lay against the cool metal of the fortress, and Snoutlet freed himself from under his hat. “Luigi! Get up, c’mon!”

He knew he had to. It hurt to breathe. His body felt heavy.

Managing to pull himself up on all fours, Luigi focused on catching his breath as Zokket let out a sound that sounded a little like laughter, no doubt still fighting Mario. “You know,” he said, almost thoughtfully, “The Extension Corps really were useless, but they were good for one thing. They showed me just how powerful your sickening bond is. Perhaps we should level the playing field.”

Luigi slowly got to his feet, watching as Zokket procured another Glohm razor from inside his cloak. Suddenly, everything seemed to move in slow motion as the razor was hurled right at Luigi. Without even a second to consider any other option, Mario leapt toward his brother, shoving him back down to the ground.

Suddenly, it was silent. Luigi’s ears were ringing as he pulled himself up again. At his feet, crumpled in a small ball, Mario was unmoving with tendrils of red and black seeping from his body. “Mario…?” Luigi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he hesitated, going to reach for Mario’s shoulder when a gloved hand smacked his hand away.

“Leave me alone.” The voice that spoke was Mario’s, but it wasn’t him. Luigi felt lightheaded as he instinctually took a step back. Mario straightened up slowly, his normally blue eyes glowing with a sinister red energy. “This only happened because I had to protect you again.”

Luigi felt the breath leave his body in a whoosh, suddenly feeling quite sick. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Snoutlet ducked out from underneath his hat, speaking for him instead. “Mario! Snap out of it, buddy!” When Mario was unresponsive to that, Snoutlet hurriedly turned to Luigi. “C’mon, grab an Ampberry - !”

Blinking numbly, Luigi turned to his bag, fumbling for the fruit with shaking hands, when Zokket’s voice cut through the ringing in Luigi’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah.” He lifted a finger, and Mario, glowing with red and black electricity, was flown forward with such force that he punched Snoutlet hard enough to send him flying back into the wall. He fell to the ground limply, and Luigi knew he screamed, but he couldn’t hear it.

And he still couldn’t find the damn Ampberry.

Zokket swiped his hand, and, obediently, Mario went to stand by his side, his brows still furrowed, his eyes still blood red. Seeming to almost be laughing, Zokket held his hand up by his face. “I will be controlling your brother now that he has been properly Glohmed.” With a quick tilt of his head Mario pulled out his hammer, seemingly waiting for the word.

“No,” Luigi mumbled, panic attacking his chest like a thousand stinging bees. He stumbled backward, holding his hands up.

“I will enjoy your sibling rivalry.” Zokket nodded, and Mario sped toward his brother.

Without thinking, Luigi pulled out his hammer too, continuing to move backward, watching Mario use his classic evading techniques, trying to confuse him before striking. “Mario,” he pleaded, feeling the hot sting of tears in his eyes, “Mario! It’s me!”

The silhouette, wearing his brother’s face and wrapped in red and black, said nothing, undeterred. Pressing his lips together, Luigi glanced toward Snoutlet, still unmoving on the floor.

“The pig cannot help you,” Zokket murmured amusedly as Mario continued to look for an opening to strike. “What will the crybaby do without his precious brother? Surely, you wouldn’t hurt him?”

Mario’s hammer swung down so fast it grazed Luigi’s arm as he dodged. Tearfully, angrily, Luigi gripped his own hammer. “Th-This isn’t you,” he insisted at Mario, but then turned his gaze from his brother toward the enemy, “Cozette.”

Zokket seemed to be so caught off guard by the use of the name that he froze in place, and Luigi could see some confusion past Mario’s glowing red eyes. He tightened his grip on the hammer and readied himself.

“You are a Wattanist,” he continued, dodging out of the way of Mario’s slower attacks. “Your name is Cozette. You have an apprentice that you love, a-and she loves you right back.”

“No!”

The yell that ripped from Zokket’s throat was inhuman. When Mario swung his hammer again, Luigi swung too, sending the hammer flying out of his hands. Mario’s shoulders sagged, breath coming short and ragged and shallow.

“Mario…” Luigi slowly reached forward, placing a gentle hand on Mario’s shoulder. Red and black tendrils dissipated into the air, and when Mario looked up, his eyes were clear blue, his brows furrowed.

“Wh…” His voice came out in a breath. “ Weegee .”

Angrily, Zokket brandished a few more razors. “A touching reunion, bros., but your end is way overdue. I shall dispose of you once and for all.”

There was no time to worry. Luigi ran to grab Mario’s dropped hammer and tossed it back to him.

They fought for what felt like days. Everything ached, every inch of his body screamed, until finally, the two men stood over a beaten-down Zokket. Mario stood his ground while Luigi rushed over to Snoutlet, gently scooping him into his arms. “Did we…Did we win…?” he mumbled sluggishly. Luigi smiled, relieved, and nodded, lifting his hat to put Snoutlet back on his head.

“Un…Unbelievable…” he muttered, red electricity crackling around him. “How can two mere bros. be so powerful?” The mask over his eyes cracked. “But…as long as the egg remains…my purpose has been fulfilled.”

The mask shattered. He let out another inhuman screech and crumpled to the floor. One last cloud of red swept over him, and when it disappeared, it left Cozette in its wake.

The next few minutes were an absolute hazy blur. When the egg cracked and Reclusa appeared, all Luigi could do was wonder if they had come this far for nothing. That terrible laugh echoed in their ears as they dodged out of the way of the metal monstrosities and rushed back the way they came. While they searched for a way out, Cozette appeared behind them, looking worse for wear.

“Mario Bros.” Her voice was shaky, her eyes barely open. “I will explain shortly, but first we need to leave.”

They pressed onward, surrounded by those terrible plants on all sides. Suddenly, a familiar voice called from below. “Over here, you green genius!”

Luigi had never been more relieved to see Adaphne. He had a feeling this was the first and only time.

***

While Connie and Cozette reunited, Mario grabbed Luigi’s arm gently, pulling him off to the side. “Luigi,” he murmured, his voice soft and sad and full of regret, his eyes stormy blue. “Are you hurt?”

He blinked, then glanced down at himself. Now that most of the adrenaline had worn off, he was beginning to feel sore - especially from his right arm, where Mario had grazed him with the hammer. “I-I’m okay, really -”

Mario’s face fell, his words spoken like a statement rather than a question. “I hurt you.”

“N-No, no, it wasn’t you!” Luigi shook his head vigorously. “You know how Glohm affects people…”

“It’s all so hazy,” he admitted, his eyes showcasing a shine that wasn’t there before. “But I -” Suddenly, a look of pure horror dawned on his face, his voice shaking. “Snoutlet!” Luigi winced, reaching up to remove his hat. Moving slowly, Snoutlet pulled himself into the air. Wringing his hands, clearly beside himself, Mario’s eyes were wide with an emotion Luigi had never seen before. “Oh, God…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Huffing, Snoutlet reached forward with a paw, placing it on Mario’s shoulder. “Pull yourself together, pal,” he said, with surprising gentleness. “We’re all still here, ain’t we? A little soreness is nothin’.” 

The look on Mario’s face showed he was barely comforted by Snoutlet’s words, if at all. But he closed his eyes for a moment, drew a small breath, and nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

“And hey, I could always make it even and hit ya back. Maybe after we save Concordia,” he joked, which got a small smile out of Mario. Snoutlet looked between them for a moment, then sighed. “Look, I, uh…I’m gonna go check on Connie. You should rest for a minute, then come join us.”

When they each gave a slight nod, Snoutlet turned and flew toward the Uni-Tree. A quiet fell between them both, with Mario still seemingly wanting to talk about things, and Luigi not really thinking there was anything to talk about. But he knew his brother, and he knew him well enough to know that this whole situation was going to eat at him if they didn’t.

Gently, Luigi reached forward to grab Mario’s arm, guiding them both to sit on the side of the ship, their legs dangling off the edge. For a while, neither one said a word. Then, “Y’know, I wouldn’t have thought of distracting Zokket like that. You must have been so scared, but your logic was still sound, sound enough to break me out of his control.”

The familiar burn of tears stung Luigi’s eyes. “I was so scared,” he agreed, hastily wiping at his eyes. “I knew I couldn’t beat him myself.”

“Well, in a way, you did,” Mario murmured, nudging his shoulder gently. “I-I know you don’t want to hear me apologize over and over again. What I’m trying to say is…I’m proud of you.”

This time the tears flowed freely. “Even though you…had to protect me again?”

“What?”

“When you were…when you were first hit, I tried snapping you out of it, and you said…’This only happened because I had to protect you again.”’ Luigi sniffled. “I-I know you weren’t yourself, b-but it’s true. You always have to protect me.”

Mario's eyes were wide, and it seemed like he’d stopped breathing until he remembered he should suck air into his lungs. “Luigi,” he said softly, reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. “You are smart, and brave, and capable on your own. I don’t care that I took a hit for you. You’re my brother. You’re my best friend. I would choose to protect you even when you don’t need it.”

Luigi cried harder, and Mario reached up to pull him close, pulling him down so his face rested on Mario’s shoulder. He was terribly homesick, exhausted, and scared, but he’d always have Mario. And for that, he felt like he could be okay.

“Wow…Luigi, look!”

Luigi picked up his head slowly, surprised to see colorful sparkles, just like the ones they’d seen before they were sucked through the portal, circling them slowly. Speechless, the two brothers stood up, watching the sparks move faster and faster around them in a colored haze until it shot into the air, circling the Uni-Tree’s lightbulb. Not unlike a firework, it burst and rained down upon the tree, lighting the lightbulb brighter than they’d ever seen.

Exchanging a look, they both rushed toward Connie, Cozette and Snoutlet, who were staring up at the tree with awed looks on their faces.

“Amazing…” Cozette murmured from her spot on the bed. “The physical manifestation of your bond was so powerful that it fused with the Uni-Tree.”

“And you’re not even Concordians!” Connie mused, both surprised and pleased by the idea. 

Snoutlet grinned proudly. “Reclusa’ll be no match for you two with a bond that strong!”

Luigi glanced at Mario, and Mario gave him a quiet smile. Luigi returned it.

“Mario! Luigi! There’s an emergency, come quick!” Suddenly, Arc was by their side, and they nodded.

Onto the next battle.

[ppleasexanny]

the puzzle's new pieces in the wake of jigsaw's death, a new killer emerges, mimicking his twisted games

warnings: blood, suicide, death (lmk if i forgot about anything) wc: 1.4k

the entire country is abuzz with fear over the return of “jigsaw,” a notorious serial killer whose reign of terror was thought to have ended with his death. yet, despite the original jigsaw's demise, the killings persist, leaving the people of new jersey gripped in paranoia. everyone is scared, the whole new jersey state is talking only about this topic. 

“it’s just stupid, meg!” you shout to your friend and co-worker. “some old guy kills people because they ‘don’t appreciate’ their lives, then he dies, his accomplice amanda dies—and somehow the murders still keep happening! we don’t even know who’s behind it!” you fling the papers in your hands across meg’s bed, frustration boiling over.  

meg sighs heavily, exasperation creeping into her voice. “he’s not killing people. they’re killing themselves.” she swivels in her chair to face you, the exhaustion plain on her face. “the whole ‘jigsaw mantra’? it’s about making them face their own guilt or whatever. anyway…” she spins back toward her desk, rifling through documents. “john kramer was in contact with amanda. we know that. amanda was in a relationship with matthew sturniolo. we should talk to him in the morning.”  

“yeah, we’ll do that.” you return to the documents and photos strewn across the room, letting the silence settle for a moment before a thought strikes.  

“play the tape again.”  

⸝⸝

another victim of john’s traps wakes up in a small, cold and dimly lit room, chained to the floor. above them, suspended from the ceiling, is a massive, razor-sharp pendulum with a blade that swings back and forth. the victim is positioned directly in its path, but they are not immediately in danger. in front of them is a large, heavy metal door, locked shut with a complex mechanism. they are so confused, frightened, their breath gets more rapid and before they know it, tears run down their cheeks.  

“help! someone help me! please!” they yell, hoping that someone will hear them, but they know that no one is going to come here and save them.  

suddenly, a mechanical whir echoed through the room causing them to look in the direction of the sound. a small tv flickered on, and the image of a puppet with hollow eyes and a chilling grin appeared. then, the voice spoke.  

"hello thomas. you are here because of the choices you’ve made. choices that haunt you, that weigh on you. you thought you could run from them, but now, there’s no escape.  

a pendulum, sharp and unforgiving, swings above you. each swing is a reminder—reminder of your past, your mistakes, and the consequences of them. you are chained to the floor, but your freedom lies behind a door. a door that you can only unlock if you confront what you have done.  

in front of you, you’ll find several objects. each one holds a piece of your past. only one holds the key to your escape. you must choose carefully. the wrong choice will not only keep you trapped—it will cost you your life.  

the key to the door is within a steel block. it can only be freed by burning the right object. but beware... time is running out. the pendulum swings closer with each second you waste. if you don't act soon, it will end your story.  

live or die, thomas.  

make your choice.”  

the screen went dark as the pendulum began to swing faster. thomas’s eyes darted to the small pile of items scattered before him: an old photograph of a woman holding a baby, a screwdriver and a set of car keys. his breath caught in his throat. each object was a shard of his life, broken and fragmented.  

the photo. the photo of his loving and kind wife, who tried her best to make thomas happy, chained to the bed’s leg. next to her was their daughter, who had to listen to them yelling at each other every evening, also chained to the bed.  

the screwdriver that he used to unscrew a nail from a pencil sharpener and hurt himself with the blade.  

the car keys reminded him of hitting a stranger while driving.

his mind raced. “what do i do? which one?” he stared at the items, his hands trembling. the pendulum swung closer, its blade slicing the air with a whooshing sound. he had to burn the right object to release the corrosive liquid and free the key, but what was the right choice?  

his heart screamed for him to grab the car keys. that accident had started it all. it was his deepest regret. he seized the keys and threw them into the furnace nearby. the heat surged, flames licking at the metal, but... nothing. no liquid dripped, no key emerged.  

the pendulum inched closer.  

thomas’s screams filled the room as he fumbled for another object. the photograph. he grabbed it with shaking hands, hesitating for a moment as he looked at the faces in it—his wife and child. he clenched his jaw and shoved it into the fire.  

the furnace hissed. this time, a dark liquid oozed out, burning through the steel block. the key fell onto the floor with a clang, but the pendulum was already dangerously close. its blade sliced the air just inches from his chest.  

with a final surge of adrenaline, thomas grabbed the key and reached for the lock on his chains. his fingers fumbled, slick with sweat and trembling. the lock clicked open, and he scrambled to his feet, but he wasn’t fast enough.  

the pendulum swung down, its sharp edge catching him in the back. the man gasped, the pain blinding, as it sliced deeper with each pass. he collapsed, blood pooling around him. his vision blurred as he stared at the open door just a few feet away, freedom tantalizingly close yet forever out of reach.  

his last thoughts were of the photograph, the faces he’d burned away, and the life he could never reclaim.  

the pendulum swung one final time.  

⸝⸝

“it doesn’t sound like jigsaw at all.” meg spoke up as she stared at the puppet on the screen. “a voice changer,” you said with no emotion in your voice as you bit on your pen, completely zooned out. finally, meg took her eyes off of the screen, tilting her head in your direction. “someone tried to sound like jigsaw, so they used a voice changer. send it to jasmine.”  

meg nodded and clicked a few keys on her laptop, sending the recording to jasmine, the department's forensic audio analyst. she leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowed in thought. "if someone’s impersonating jigsaw, it’s not just about the traps. they want people to believe it’s him. that means whoever this is-"  

"-is obsessed," you finished for her. "or trying to use the fear of jigsaw to cover their own agenda." you exhaled sharply and leaned back against the wall. "this isn’t just about making people appreciate life. this is… something else entirely."  

meg gestured to the case files scattered across her desk. "we’ve got a connection between kramer and amanda. if we’re chasing leads, matthew sturniolo’s our best shot. kramer groomed amanda; who’s to say amanda didn’t groom someone else before she died?"  

the thought made your stomach churn. the idea of this violence being passed down like some twisted legacy was almost too much to bear. "what do we even ask him? 'did your dead girlfriend turn you into a serial killer?' he won’t talk to us unless we’ve got something solid."  

"that’s why we play nice at first," meg said. "let’s see what he says when we bring up amanda."  

before you could respond, meg’s phone buzzed on the desk. a text from jasmine:  

“you got it”  

“i’ll send the results tomorrow”  

"jasmine’s on it," meg said, showing meg the message. "if the voice changer gives us anything—an accent, background noise, whatever—we might have a starting point."  

meg glanced at the clock. "it’s late. let’s get some sleep and visit sturniolo first thing. whoever’s behind this, they’re escalating. if we don’t move fast, there’s going to be another victim."  

you nodded, gathering up the files. "escalating or not, they’re sloppy. whoever this is doesn’t have kramer’s precision. that might be their undoing." 

[saintship]

Omg so happy you dropped the prompt list! Can i pls request no 18 with Soap? He's just got home quite battered with an overgrown beard, so reader is taking care of him? Just domestic fluff really :D thanks!

Prompt #18 - “Can I help you shave?”

This is sexy. Thank you for the ask<3!

Warnings: description of injury, swearing, kissing, fluff

Soap x Reader - Battered and bearded

You ripped open the envelope as soon as you freed it from the mailbox, pulling out the worn paper as you hurried inside and settled on the couch.

Bonnie,

It’s fuckin crazy here. Hasn’t stopped raining for two weeks, I feel like I’ll never get dry again. We’re almost through the thickest of the jungle, then the exfil’s not far. Miss you more than I miss hot water.

p.s. My beard’s taken over, dunno if you’ll recognize me xx

He’s gone insane. -G

You laughed breathlessly at the small note from his Lieutenant, thumbing over the paper where Soap’s pen had etched. The note about his beard made you curious, you’d never seen it past a thick scruff. You read the letter over again, and again, keeping it near you while you made yourself dinner, while you washed your face, while you slept.

The morning came with a clear sky and chill to the air, your windows fogged slightly from the autumn cold. You were still blinking the sleep from your eyes while the kettle boiled when you heard the crunching of gravel outside. You didn’t make it to the door before the door eased open, and you stopped in your tracks.

He was a hair thinner than you saw him last, his tired eyes shining behind an array of scrapes, cuts, and vibrant bruises. Still, he grinned, with a full, albeit uneven, beard gracing his face.

“Hey there, hen..”

You carefully hugged his waist. “Am I hurting you?” You asked.

He lifted you on the kitchen counter, stepping forward to embrace you properly. “On the contrary.”

His head resting in the curve of your neck, stroking your back softly as he melted in your arms.

“Missed ya..”

“Missed you more..”

He leaned back to look you in the eye, smiling slightly. “We gonna argue this soon?”

“Woah..” You were distracted by his quip with the soft hair that he’d grown over the weeks spent on the move in the jungle, stroking his jaw.

“Ah, I forgot.” He itched the hair that had spread to his neck, squinting. “Didn’t even know it was possible for it to get like this.”

“You look good.” You observe.

“I hate it.”

You smile. “Is it uncomfortable?”

He groaned, running both hands over his face now. “You’ve got no idea..”

“And your hair.. we gotta shave down the sides again, hm?” You brushed through his hair where his mohawk had nearly disappeared. He nodded, closing his eyes as he leaned into your hand.

“Wait, I’ve got to try something.”

He opened his eyes. “What?”

You kissed him gently, humming in decision as you felt the brush of the hair on his upper lip before pulling away. “I don’t like it.”

“I liked it.” He grinned lazily.

“Come on..” You rolled your eyes while smiling, leading him to the bathroom.

He got showered, and you swore he was about to start kicking his leg the way he groaned as you washed his scalp. His chest had also gotten a bit out of control, the patterns of hair thickened so they were raised off the skin. He sat in the bathtub to catch the mess as you trimmed that first, leaving the thin layer that he liked.

“I feel like a barber.”

“I’ve never had a barber feel up my abs.”

“You’re at the wrong places.” You retort, at which he huffed a laugh.

“I think I like this one.”

“Lucky me.” You kiss him quickly, but he pulls you back, one hand stroking the sensitive skin under your jaw. But you hadn’t shaved his face; you pulled away.

“It feels weird.” You quirked your lip in thought as you rinsed the razor, adjusting on the pillow you sat on next to the tub.

“Feels weird to kiss me?” He asked, feign offense lacing his tone.

“Uh-huh.” You confirmed, plugging in the trimmer.

“You’re mean.” He decided.

“The worst." You huffed, leaning over to kiss his temple, then his cheek, then a quick one on his lips.

“You ready?” You flipped the trimmer to ‘on’.

He nodded, and you mowed down the first strip, his usual level of scruff remaining.

“It’s so satisfying..” you murmur.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He teased.

“I could ruin your life right now.” You warn playfully, holding up your tool.

“Oh, you’re cute.” He brushed your cheek with a knuckle, and you huffed, returning to your task. Eventually, the bulk of it was gone, and he rubbed his face appreciatively. “So itchy..” he murmured. “Ah, crivvens..” he looked into the handheld mirror you’d handed him, tracing the scabs and spots being irritated by the hair. “Will you just do it all for me?”

“Clean shaven?”

He nodded, getting up to rinse. You prepared the shaving cream and razor, waiting patiently as he dried off and hung a towel just below his waist. You whistled lowly, making him roll his eyes.

“Quit it.”

“What?” You feigned ignorance, pulling him closer by the hem of the towel. He smiled back at you, his hands resting on your hips gently.

“Alright..” You layered the bright shaving cream over his face, smacking his chest when he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and got some in his mouth. You got it off his tongue eventually, shaking your head at him. The razor glided down his cheek before you wiped it on the cloth John held for you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

His muttering caught you off guard, but a small smile pulled at your lips.

“Thank you for taking care a’ me.” He said softly. You saw the guilt in his eyes, you knew the words he was holding back, but kissed his freshly shaven cheek anyway.

“I always will.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you noticed a few bruises littering his back. “You got pretty beat up..” you note, gesturing to a colorful bruise on his ribs.

“We had to scale down a ravine to avoid their ground team; we were outnumbered and it was safer to run, but I think Price just wanted to get the hell out..”

You nod, pausing the blade while he spoke.

“I’ll try not to hug you too hard.” You slid the razor down another inch of his cheek, and he laughed slightly through his nose.

You rid his jaw of the last of the scruff and tilted his head up to do his neck.

“Don’t slit my throat, aye?”

“Don’t say that..” You applied the shaving cream a bit more generously.

He smiled at your worry. “You’ll be fine, I’ve cut my neck shaving loads of times.”

“I feel like that’s just a different issue..” you started on his pulse point, gliding the blade gently. The result was a clean shave, the skin paler than his usual tone from so much time spent covered up.

“I did it..”

“Proud a’ you.”

He continued to hold your waist, half to keep you steady and half to feel your skin under his palms for the first time in weeks. You worked the blade over his skin until you could wipe away the product and reveal a smooth face, though small cuts and scrapes were littered throughout.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, smelling the product on his skin and feeling the finish on your cheek.

“It’s so smooth..” you hummed.

“Feels so much better, thank you..” he rubbed at his face, sighing.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

You stroke his face before pressing a kiss to his lips, this time, staying there much longer. His haircut could wait just a bit longer, you thought.

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Tickletober day #2: Chase

Yes, I am posting these out of order since I currently only have 5 fics finished, including the 2 I've already posted sooo yeah expect them out of order

Razor was my og main during my early days in genshin so I'm very happy to have finally written something for him, enjoy<3

Also on ao3

______________________________________________________________

Razor x Bennett (implied gey)

Lee: Bennett

Ler: Razor

Warnings: Tickles!

______________________________________________________________

Bennett ran as fast as he could, as if his life depended on it, which it did feel like at the moment.

What started as him playfully bugging Razor, a simple poke here and there, escalated into Razor getting a predatory look in his eyes and telling the adventurer to run. And run he did.

Bennett could feel his heart accelerating, feeling both scared yet excited in anticipation as to what’s to come. Finding the chase almost enjoyable, if it wasn’t for his constant tripping. Curse his bad luck! Despite that, he managed to keep a decent lead ahead of Razor. Naturally, the odds were stacked against him, so it didn’t take long for the wolf boy to catch him. 

Razor leaped through the air, crashing straight into Bennett, and sending them both tumbling into the ground. A loud shriek echoed across the forest, scaring off any nearby animals. He stared up at Razor with wide eyes, a nervous smile starting to stretch across his features. 

The electro user made himself comfortable, straddling Bennett. He reached down with one hand, grabbing at the adventurer’s wrists and holding them above his head. 

“Gotcha~” Razor shot him a mischievous grin before using his free hand to scribble at Bennett’s tummy. Putting it in the shape of a claw to really sell the wolf vibes.

“Wah! Wahahait! No! Wait! I’m sohohorry!” It didn't take much to make Bennett laugh hysterically, thanks to his ever growing bad luck. Or perhaps good luck for once? It definitely wasn’t that bad being at the receiving end of Razor’s wrath.

“No talk, only laugh” Razor’s expression lightened up with each laugh and wheeze he got out of the pyro user. A giddy smile of his own settling onto his lips. “Razor likes Benny’s laugh. Keep laughing~”.

Bennett wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a tease or a genuine compliment, but either way, it caused his face to flare up like his pyro vision. He tried covering his face against his bound arm, but it only made the electro user double down in his efforts. 

“No hiding, look at me, please?” Razor let go of Bennett’s wrists, watching as his arms started to flail all over the place. He managed to avoid them with ease, reaching out to grab Bennett’s chin with his newly freed hand. Gently adjusting the adventurer’s face to look straight back at him. “Much better~”

Bennett swore he felt his heart do a little flip when he was met with Razor’s childlike, toothy smile. Those bright eyes looking down at him with such adoration it could make the world explode from cuteness overload. If only he wasn’t thrashing from the ticklish sensation climbing up his ribs then maybe he could’ve basked in the view. 

“GyaaHAhahAh! R-Razor, dohoHOn’t!” Bennett’s laughter would waver with every press he felt between his ribs. The feeling of those mischievous fingers reaching his armpits made him panic, making him clamp his arms down with all his might. This only caused Razor to hold his wrists right back up. 

“Not done yet” a finger slipped into the sensitive hollow, then a second one, then a third, until all 5 fingers were scribbling playfully on the dreaded spot.

“NYAHAHA! RAHAZOR, PLEHEHEASE! NOT THEHEHEEERE!” Bennett threw his head back as his boisterous laughter rippled out of his throat. Hopefully no one else was around to hear him, now that would be embarrassing. He could feel his insides starting to ache, and Razor could pick up on it, slowing his fingers down until reaching a full stop. 

The electro user watched the adventurer panting for air, still giggling like a madman from the ordeal. Razor could feel his chest tighten, watching his friend trying and failing to calm down, his hair all disheveled, face as red as a chili pepper, eyes as bright as the stars and a smile that could lighten up even the darkest of caves. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was, he’d have to ask Lisa later on, but for now, he was content in the present moment. Perhaps he should chase Bennett around more often, just to see that smile.

______________________________________________________________

[kurosstuff]

First "I love you"

•

•

•

With a fierce lunge, Rosie pressed you down on couch, tail wagging insanely at her excitement, gentle hiss rolling of her tongue.

"Woah!" - you yelp at the sudden attack.

Rosie hisses, her tail seductively stroking your neck.

"What's gotten to you today?" - you ask her removing your clothes and folding them neatly to the side.

Deep, dark eyes follow your every movement with lustful hunger ready to mark yet again what's hers.

Whats hers.

"Just a bit exc-cited, that's-s all~" Rosie says in melodic tone, her anticipation showing in prolonged hisses.

"I see" - you say casually, folding your pants at the side. "Ok, I'm don-EAH!" - another yelp comes off your mouth as you feel her tail drag you back to the couch.

She throws you on the couch, her tail firmly wrapped around you as she looks at you with unbridled hunger. You could think she'll chomp off your head now if you didn't know what kind of hunger were in those soulless eyes. The tip of her tail curls beneath your chin and gently encourages to look up on her. As you do...

God, was she just gorgeus.

She towered above you, with dangerous glint in her eyes as she grinned, showing off her razor-sharp teeth.

"Oh, uh-" - though, you somewhat accustomed to her behaviour in general, you still flushed whenever she was looking at you like that.

"I guess this is peak of your season, huh?" - you chukle out bit nervously.

She hums.

"I guess so, my bunny~" - tips of your ears redden even more at the sudden pet name. (Note: yes, this is reference to your bunny fic)

You smile at her, not even realizing how much of adoration your gaze holds. You freed one of your arms from her tail and reached out, brushing your thumb against her cheek. She does this back, stroking your jaw. You lean in, and kiss her carefully, to the best of your abillities. When you feel her lips press more firmly and demanding, you open your mouth, giving her permission.

Her tongue immideatly slips into your mouth and explores every inch of it. It's long, slender and incredibly skilled. Flushing more, you let out needy whimper against her lips. She smirked feeling proud.

Her tail unwrapped your upper half and the tip of it started softly nudging at your clothed (not for long) clit. You twitched, another bit of moan escaping you.

Rosie pulled away and you gasp, finally getting to breath again.

Your face was flushed, as well as your ears and shoulders were reddening with each second passed.

"S-s-so out of breath..." - Rosie whispers, smirking at your gasps for air.

She still holding your face, her thumb brushing your earlobe.

You smile at her gently, leaning in her palm, closing eyes. Maybe, you were too clouded, but the next thing you said were shoking for you both.

"I love you"

You froze.

Taking a second to process what you just said, you looked up at Rosie.

She froze, more still than any inanimate object.

"Rosie?.."

...

"Oh dear..." - she wispered so quietly, you barely caught that.

"Rosie, what's wro-HMPH!"

Just as sudden, she kissed you. It was passionate kiss but not in a lustful sense, no. This kiss was full of love and warmth.

Full of happiness.

She pulled away.

"I love you too, dear"

GOD.

THIS IS SO GOOD?? now imagine. Another human? Or another gorgon coming to court them~

Lowkey- all these gorgon rosie ideas is giving me ideas too- 💕💕 I adore your writing sm♡♡

[hello-universe-lovers]

Well, time for my stp au ranting (thanks @neverpathia for getting me off my ass)

For some context, have this:

SLAY THE PRINCESS: THE FIRST DRAFT AU:

(SPOILERS and OC TALK ahead)

Let's start with someone I've been referring to as the Player

(Do not mind that the sketch has a different title name. This was literally the first draft, ironically enough. And some beta voice designs weee~)

Her name is Ley, and her design is honestly what I call the "Pocket OC", a blank slate that I can insert into any universe or fandom with some modifications. For this application, she is the unfortunate Mortal that the Narrator decided would be GREAT at princess slaying!!/s

Contrary to Larry, who only had to do 5 loops to freed the Shifting Mound. Ley has to go through 11 FOR ALL THE VOICES. Since LQ isn't exactly capable of calling the voices back to him like She can. And with the "2 voice per loop" rule, she has to collect em one at a time. Fun times/s

I feel her personality is best described when I go into the routes with her, in contrast to Larry (note that they are in a specific order).

THE PRISONER:

Her first was the Prisoner. Her skepticism of the Narrator and the Princess (expressed by bringing the knife down to the basement) quickly melted away into sympathy for the Princess and resolved to save her. Unlike Larry, she didn't had to cut off her hand. Rather, she cut one of the links with the Pristine Blade, rendering it blunt. When the Narrator took over, the Princess had to bash her head against the wall, knocking her out/killing her (they have the same effect).

In the Prisoner Chapter, she woke up in chains, rather than free, and the Prisoner is her usual self. And to add to her headache, there was a new Voice with the Narrator: the Voice of the Hero (pre-egg crack). She informs her that she's been stuck here for a while, and the knife was out of their reach, presumably upstairs. Ley, not giving up, broke her thumb to get out (since the chain was for Larry's neck, not hers) and did the same for the Prisoner's wrist cuffs. With freedom and a knife again, the Prisoner asked how she was going to get her out of there. She did the same thing she did last time: cutting her free. When asked why she thought that worked and not trust her in her "alternative" plan: she did trust her, but she didn't want her to get hurt for the sake of freedom. Hero encourages her on with her choices, seeing how far a strong will can get you, as well as subtly demonstrating she can still influence this world, even for a human.

But, as the Shifting Mound claims the Prisoner and she finds herself in the Long Quiet. The Mirror is still there, but rather than showing her own reflection, she sees the Hero, in how she perceived the Voice, through her route. She says "Hi" to her (who finally cracked her egg) and comments on how Proud she was of Ley for keeping her good nature, even in such a difficult circumstances. However, their conversation couldn't last long as the darkness of the mirror starts taking Hero away. Hero screamed in fear, and Ley bangs on the mirror, but the Voice returns to the Long Quiet, to where she is meant to be. But she inherited Ley's Chivalry, and it will stick with her

(Don't worry, I won't rant too much with the rest, this is the first. The rest of them will be shorter)

Edit: so that was a lie!

THE RAZOR:

(Oh I forgot Stubborn went through a redesign godddd--)

Her next route is where her personality changes the Story. Let's be clear here: she isn't Larry. She has no God powers that makes her go numb to pain or make it go empty. But what she has is drive. Perseverance is a HELL of a drug, and it's what she did to Conquer the Razor.

After being stabbed by the Princess in the Chapter 1, Ley tried to give her the benefit of a doubt, but it's clear that this Princess's love language is "STAB! STAB! STAB!!", so it's time to arm up. It's difficult, she died a lot, but overtime, she realized that the arena they were in...was changing. Warps, cracks littered the walls of the cabin and basement. An idea was sown, and luckily she has the perfect voice to keep her going. Stubborn had to take a backseat, which he hated, but he got what he wanted. Clash after clash, the basement showed signs of breaking down. She even tore off one of Razor's arms to use as a sword. Once you have a goal that isn't just "winning", your motivation skyrockets. Chapter 4 wasn't named "Mutually Assured Destruction", but "the Bird and the Mountain". As the Princess showed her new form, Ley showed her plan's fruition. The basement finally gave out under the abuse, and collapsed on top of both of them. The Bladed Razor looked up at the sky from the hole that opened up, while pinned under tons of rubble and was memorized. Ley, meanwhile, made her way out of the rubble, in pain, but alive. This is where an unintended Side effect of her influence came in. Because she felt someone lifted her up and helped her approach the Razor. The Princess was surprised, but she had no regrets. In fact, she had fun!! Seeing her slowly growing to triumph over her was fun! And the stars were pretty to look at too! She was ok with dying now, promising to maybe try something else, now that the world is open to her...

But they won't have that next encounter, as Ley finds herself in the Long Quiet once more.

Stubborn was struggling against being unraveled, but he had to congratulate her. If it was him, he would have fought her over and over with no stop. But her plan not only stopped her, it also kept her going. With a brain like that, nothing could stand in her way. Ley gave her peace with him, reassuring that the Quiet won't hurt him, it's taking him somewhere he belongs. And to tell Hero she said "hi", when he sees her...

The NIGHTMARE:

With so many deaths in one loop, it left her feeling the fatigue in the next Loop. In her tired state, she decided she needed space from both the Narrator and Princess to think, so she left the basement. She didn't, however, closed the door to the basement. She left it open to show that she wasn't gonna leave her in limbo. While she thought of what to do, exhaustion finally kicked in and she fell asleep. However, when she woke up, the door to the basement was blocked by the table. She rudely asked the Narrator what happened, and that's when SKEPTIC made himself known. He came while she was asleep, and decided that it'd be safer to talk with the door blocked. Panicked, she quickly opened the door, asking the Princess if she's OK. But her haste to check on her let her tripped and broke her neck in the fall.

The next time, Skeptic is once again not being helpful. Apparently he and Narrator had a talk while she was "dead" and Skeptic doesn't believe in anything Narry is saying about their situation. Not even the ominous cabin and the drop to the basement. For once, his Skepticism kept her alive because when the Nightmare showed up, he just didn't believe she could do that. It's not Paranoid but it will do. For Ley herself, it may felt like absolute shit to have your organs barely work, but it gave her time to say sorry to the Princess and helped her out of the basement. When asked why she said sorry, when she didn't ask for it, she responded that she deserved one anyway.

In the Long Quiet, She confronted Skeptic for his mistakes...but she does thanked him for keeping her alive, even if it was accidental on his part. He apologized for his misjudgment and was grateful to meet someone like-minded. Maybe she can discover the truth of this place, where he could not. Then he was taken away, though he resisted a little.

(Bonus but between every few loops, she just crashes into Shifty to sleep. Not repeating what happened with the Nigthmare, now that deep sleep can apparently summon these guys. Not that she'd remembered)

The TOWER:

Her hesitation to kill the Princess gave the next one an Ego boost. And Smitten is here because of a misguided respect for the Tower, that could be interpreted as "love". With a voice that's all about devotion and a literal Goddess, she was THIS close to succumbing. BUT the Tower just HAD to take the face of a loved one, brcause Ley wasn't a "little bird", try and persuade her. Which just made her ANGRY. The Fury of the AUDACITY!!

Now, Smitten believed in love, and if Tower's love language was "devotion", he was gonna give it to her. And he didn't appreciate this Lady not seeing the LOVE like he did. However, in her fury, Smitten saw her memories, and of the Love that she had with this other woman. But it ended tragically and bitterly. Died by a fire. But it was REAL. A REAL love that was meaningful that was more than devotion.

Ley pushed the Tower out of the window, letting them fall into nothingness. The Tower realized that maybe using the face of a dead loved one was a bad call...but she still thinks highly of herself. Ley coldly responded "what is a God to a non-believer?"

She is taken away, leaving Ley to fall on forever. But she soon landed gently on the ground. Facing the mirror, Smitten was crying for the lost of the Tower, but also at the beauty of Ley's love. If that was what True Love looked like, maybe He could find it again. Ley told him that True Love doesn't exist. There isn't "the one" for you, just the "love" you made together with the one you choose. Smitten has a lot to think about, now...as he fades away.

The WITCH/THORN:

To go from a tragedy to a romance, Ley didn't want to betray the Princess. But the Narrator forced her hand, and in comes our "favorite" asshole. Rather than being summoned by Ley's feelings, it was the Narrator's feelings projected onto her, the rush of pulling one over on someone. Ley is NOT happy with either of these people in my head, and Opportunist was content to go back and forth between choosing a side. It got to a point where it caused her such a headache that she broke the Pristine Blade by jamming it against the root wall, and bent the handle so no one can get it out. It was an act of desperation against the Narrator and to show trust to the Witch. However, just as they were about to leave, Opportunist decided to try what the Narrator did last time. Ley struggled hard against him, which scared the Witch so much that she stabbed her with a sharp piece of root from the ground. She fell, but muttered an "I'm sorry" before fading away.

The next time she woke up, she had a pain in her chest. And the Voice was less of a voice and more of a person. This is where the Voice finally have a body of their own in the Construct, and Ley's first action was punch the ever loving shit out of the Opportunist. Blaming him for the Witch stabbing her when she was THIS CLOSE to saving her! She never wanted to betray her but the Narrator and now him were projecting those feelings onto her and now SHE has to bear the brunt of their treachery. She did stop wailing on him, but he was crying and begging her to stop by the end of it. All she did was glare in return, saying how pathetic he truly was...before walking to the cabin, skipping the Pristine Blade all together that was just sitting there. The Thorn was there, vulnerable and surrounded by painful thorns, obviously she is scared of Ley for even MORE reasons than the canon one. Because how could she still trust herself, after what she saw and almost did? Ley answered back that she resisted, every step of the way. She never stopped resisting, and she will continue to resist, until both of them made it out of here. With her bare hands, she tore into the vines, not caring if they bleed, Thorn's protest or the Narrator's attempts to make her stop via tedium. She ketp going.

Then, a tap on her shoulder. Whipping around, it's the Opportunist, one hand holding an eye that she punched earlier, and another...the Blade, extended to her, hilt facing her. He makes a non-committal reasoning for being here ("it's better to stick together" and all that) but I ranted enough about what he actually feels before...so with the knife, she cut the Thorn and the 3 of them Escaped the basement.

In the Long Quiet, the Opportunist stood before her. The root that stabbed her chest was now in his and blooming a rose, and the shiner she put in his eye was now a poppy, like the Thorn's. He...apologized, truthfully, for his actions. There is no one to witness them, so to him, this was his only chance to say sorry. He just wanted to live...and that blinded him to the opportunities that he could have gotten, if he was kinder. Ley said that she...won't accept it, not yet...but she can acknowledge that if he's truthful, than one day, she will. And that she wasn't the only person he'd hurt. Thorn was too...if he see her again, he has a lot to make up for. He begged to not be taken away, to not die or be asleep before he got to say sorry to her. But something tells Ley that he will see Thorn again...but she won't.

((I am stopping here because I am CRAMPING: tune in next time for Broken, Cheated, Hunted, Paranoid, Cold and Contrarian!

And thanks for making it this far. It was...very nerve wracking to do this. To show my work like this outside of friends so I hope this resonated with you and I hope you asked me questions about them.