#I wanted to see how he’d look with some more ethereal elements

[dei-ryuu]

Random burst of inspiration (or imagination perhaps). Anyway, here’s Figment!

[thornwolfy235]

WIP 1 - Kissing

I'm going to post a bunch of WIPs in a row now. maybe with a little feedback I'll get the gumption to finish one of them.

A bit of info on them first. I wrote all of these in an effort to deal with an exceptionally bad break-up (might as well call it a divorce, we lived together for 6 years). A lot of these are "how it should've gone" type stuff. I was never able to decide if they should be a full chapter by chapter "novel" or just a bunch of oneshots within the same universe and make a collection of them in order or whatever. Maybe I'll drop them to Ao3 as well. They are all xfem!Readers with my blorbos Grillby and Gaster (though most have no anatomy mentioned, so you can safely read no matter what gender you are). I'd appreciate a glance through if nothing else.

This first one is early-ish in a relationship with Grillby with a Reader who is nervous about kissing. Mostly fluffy with very mild spice.

Mondays had become your regular time to hang out with Grillby. With his pub closed until Tuesday afternoon and you out of work early, it meant those nights could be just for the two of you. You’d only been together about for a month and had yet to go out on a date in public, but spending the evening cuddling on his couch and watching movies, playing board games, or just talking was plenty nice. The casualness of it all was nice, too. After how devastatingly your previous relationship had ended, keeping things simple and relaxed where you felt no pressure to try to impress was a relief. Seeing your beau out of his crisp attire and in what you’d consider street clothes was a perk as well, a reminder to you that he was still just a normal person like you, and as such was happy to be with a normal person like, well, you. The best part was that he’d remove his glasses so you could see his eyes unobscured by the reflections of his flames. With his dislike of people being able to see his eyes, you considered it a true privilege that he felt comfortable enough to let you in like that.

Tonight, though, there was definitely something on the elemental’s mind. He seemed more than a little distracted, and you’d caught him more than once watching you from the corner of his eye instead of whatever was on the television. You were nervous to ask what he was thinking about, however, for some reason afraid of what his response might be. It didn’t make sense for you to be afraid, of course – nothing he had ever said or done should have made you think he might hurt you or put you in a situation you weren’t comfortable with – yet you were.

You felt him looking at you again and glanced over to find Grillby’s half-lidded eyes were indeed on you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I-is something wrong?” you asked quietly.

He shook his head, pausing the movie and turning to you fully. “No, sweet spark. In fact, everything is wonderful,” he answered, his soft, airy voice brushing over you. He took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I’m very happy to be with you. I love you.”

Your nervousness eased. It was hard to be scared when he touched and spoke to you so sweetly. “I love you, too,” you said, leaning in for a kiss. His constant, radiant warmth and almost-solidness always made kissing him nice, if a little ethereal, like kissing the softest blanket imaginable fresh from the dryer.

Grillby lifted a hand to cup your cheek, thumb lightly running over your skin. “I’d very much like to kiss you more,” he murmured. His smile turned mischievous when you tilted your head curiously. “As in ‘make out,’ spark,” he clarified with a little chuckle.

“O-oh…” You looked down at your hands, anxiety returning.

“Hey,” he said gently, amusement turning to concern in just one word. “You know I won’t force you to if you don’t want to, right?”

You sighed, tightening your grip on his fingers.  “I know…it’s just…I don’t…I haven’t…” You groaned in frustration as the right words eluded you, turning away a little. “I don’t know where to start.”

His hand went from your cheek to your back, rubbing soft circles between your shoulders. “It’s okay. You can tell me as much or as little as you want to.”

You nodded. You wanted to curl up in his arms, hide against his chest and just pretend like nothing was wrong, but you knew he wouldn’t let you ignore whatever was upsetting you. Grillby had the annoying habit of wanting to help you through them. “It’s just…lingering baggage from my ex-fiancé. There’s a-a lot of it, you know?” The elemental’s orange flames dulled to a reddish hue and pulled in towards himself. Your stomach clenched. “I-I’m sorry, I never know what will set off memor–”

“Don’t apologize. I know you’re still working through it all. Will you tell me what happened?”

You chewed on your lower lip for a moment. “Well…I-I mean…maybe it was my fau–”

“Ahp! Don’t say that!” Grillby broke in sharply. “You know how good he was at twisting everything into your problem or your fault when it wasn’t.”

“R-right, right,” you stuttered. It might have seemed harsh, but this was something you had asked him to do to help keep you from spiraling back into your habits of self-deprecation. “I guess…the long and short of it is that, when making out, he always wanted to do open-mouthed kisses – like French kissing or whatever – while I don’t particularly like them. At first he was very understanding, and honestly I was willing to give them another try whenever he asked, but as time wore on, he started to get…mad at me. He said that, given how often we kept trying them, I should’ve figured them out, or gotten used to them, or just…put up with them to make him happy, even if they still made me uncomfortable.”

Red flames burned more intensely. “That was...” He paused, clearly hunting for a polite way to voice his frustration with your former fiancé. “…very unfair of him. Did he pressure you to keep trying them?”

“Not exactly? I wanted to keep trying, hoping that eventually I would figure them out, but when I still didn’t like them and would ask him to stop, that’s when he’d snap at me. He never forced me to keep going, but his comments made me feel just as bad. A-and later on –” You stopped yourself, not wanting to say last part out loud. You were afraid it would come across as whiny or jealous.

“What did he do?” Grillby prompted, voice carefully neutral though you could feel his radiant heat tick up slightly.

“He…e-even though he said he wouldn’t, he started comparing making out with me to making out with the person he cheated with and ended up leaving me for. H-he’d always apologize right away and say he wouldn’t do it again, only to just do it the next time he got back from spending the night with them. It was like he was proving to me that I was…broken somehow. They could do it and like it and apparently be amazing at it, so why couldn’t I? It made me feel s-so awful about myself every time he did it.”

“I’d imagine so.” He cupped your chin, lifting your head look up at him. “He shouldn’t have shamed you for having limits and boundaries. There’s nothing wrong with them. I would argue that it’s good to know your limits and stand by them.” He looked to the side with a scowl. “I cannot believe that he would compare you to someone else like that. Well, no, I can; I’m just always…amazed by how uncaring he could be.” He blew out an irritated puff of smoke (thoughtfully away from you) before softening again, leaning down to affectionately bump his forehead against yours. “There is nothing ‘broken’ about you for having likes and dislikes. We don’t have to do open-mouthed kissing if you don’t want to.”

“That’s just it. I do want to. I…I want to keep trying, I really do. There is something about them that’s nice, even if I can’t quite figure out what it is because I lose it too quickly. Th-that’s when they start to feel…wrong to me. I was…I am afraid that you would be offended if we started and then I asked you to stop,” you explained.

“Oh, sweet spark…I wouldn’t have been offended even if you hadn’t told me all of that. If you want to try them again, we can, but please don’t hesitate to tell me when you’ve had enough.” He smiled kindly at you, flames returning to their normal orange, though there was still concern in his golden-yellow eyes. “Is there something in particular that you don’t like about them?”

“I’m really not sure…I think part of the issue is that I don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to do during them. He’d tell me to just ‘go with it’ or ‘do what feels right,’ but that didn’t really explain anything. I don’t really get the point of them, either. People say you’re supposed to feel closer to the person you’re doing them with, but I just feel awkward. And…I guess…I-I don’t know…just…” You shrugged. “Tongues are weird?”

Grillby burst out laughing, yellow-tinged flames sending up a harmless cloud of sparks, and quickly pulled you into a hug before you could take offense to his reaction. “I’m sorry, spark. I’m not laughing at you. Your phrasing was just very, ah…”

“Blunt?”

“I was going to go with ‘unexpected,’ but ‘blunt’ is equally accurate,” he said, still chuckling. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe there’s an instruction manual for making out.”

“Oh, the internet has plenty of ideas, I just don’t understand any of them,” you told him with a tiny grin. You loved when you could make him laugh like that, big and loud and undeniably real. It made you feel special. Even Sans’ puns only got a snort at best (you had a hunch the poor barkeep had heard them all at least a dozen times).

He breathed out a long sigh as he got himself under control again. “So, we can try some open-mouthed kissing, but if you want to stop, I won’t take it personally, okay?” he said gently, surmising everything you told him. “Is there anything else I should know about? Any other likes or dislikes?”

You glanced away shyly. “I-I don’t know…What other things did you have in mind?”

“Well…” He paused for a second, tilting his head contemplatively. His lips quirked slightly, a sort of playfulness entering his voice. “How about nibbling or biting?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I, uh…I-I never really did much biting myself, b-but I do like being bitten. N-not hard enough to break skin, but getting bitten makes me feel…” You trailed off nervously.

“It’s alright to tell me, spark. I won’t make fun of you,” Grillby murmured, taking your hands to place a comforting kiss on the back of each of them.

You took a shaky breath. “Getting bitten makes me feel safe. I-I know that sounds strange. The best explanation I have is…It’s like I’m being shown that while you could make it a painful experience, you won’t. You have the desire to not hurt me along with the control to keep it gentle. It’s…reassuring.”

“That’s a beautiful sentiment,” he said, his sincerity surprising you. “I think why I like to bite fits nicely with your reason to like being bitten. You know how much trust means to me? Well, there’s a trust the receiver has to put in the giver. They must trust the giver to be good to them while they are vulnerable.” Flicks of blue wove through his flames as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “So if I wanted to bite your neck, you would first have to let yourself be vulnerable enough to allow me that close, and that isn’t something you would let me do unless you trusted me. I love that level of trust, and I would love nothing more than to reinforce it, to show you that your trust isn’t misplaced.”

You smiled shyly up at him. “And you reinforcing it by being gentle with me would make me feel even safer. I-I guess we do match up pretty well.”

“So, what do you think? Would you like to try making out with me?” Grillby asked softly, as gentle and understanding as ever.

You dropped your gaze, your nerves still getting the better of you. “Wh-what if I can’t? What if I mess up or let you down?”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. He waited until you met made eye contact again before speaking. “I think that’s him talking, spark.”

You sighed. You’d never had much self-confidence to begin with, but your ex had stomped out what little you’d had, making you constantly second and third guess everything. “Y-you’re probably right…”

He sat back again, gazing down at you thoughtfully. “I have an idea that might help you relax, if you’d like to try it, but it would involve being in my lap. Are you okay with that?”

Your cheeks warmed a little. “L-like sitting sideways o-or straddling you?”

“Straddling. It would be easier with you facing me.” You looked down at your still-intertwined fingers, teeth worrying your lip again. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want. You can call it quits anytime, and you won’t be letting me down for doing so. I promise,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Y-yeah, let’s try it.” You met his eyes again and smiled, even though you felt your lips trembling as you spoke.

He leaned in to give you a small, soft kiss. “Thank you. I promise I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, warm breath brushing over your lips. He let go of your hands so he could carefully guide you into place. You couldn’t stop the uncertain whimper that came out of you as you settled on his lap, legs spread to either side of his. “It’s alright. Just sit for a moment. Breathe. I have you,” he soothed, hands on your waist to keep you steady.

Your hands had a death-grip on his shoulders as you shook, staring unseeing at his chest. You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “I-I’m s-sor-ry,” you stuttered.

“It’s alright,” he repeated. “Take as much time as you need. Let me know when you’re ready or if you want out. I won’t do anything without your say-so.”

You managed a shaky nod, forcing your breathing to even out, timing it to Grillby’s rising and falling chest. True to his word, he just held you in place, thumbs rubbing circles against your sides as he waited. “O-okay…I’m okay,” you said at last. “What’s next?”

“May I take your glasses?” Nodding, you took them off and gave them to him. He deposited them on the side table before touching your cheek. “Thank you. Now, I need you to close your eyes and focus on me, okay? Don’t think about anything else. Just focus on my voice and my touch. Be here with me,” he said.

You took as steady of a breath as you could and did as he asked. His hands moved to behind your back and pulled you closer. He softly shushed the thin whine that came from the back of your throat as he used a hand to gently press your head to his shoulder and hold you there, the arm still around you keeping you flush against his chest. And then he began talking.

Grillby’s voice rumbled against your ear as he told you a story about that silly jukebox that still refused to work properly despite how many people tried to fix it. His fingers slowly ran up and down your back as he told you that while showing off with bar tricks was fun, he preferred just focusing on his patrons rather than tossing bottles. He softly pet your head as he told you about a cave in the Underground, one he didn’t visit often as it was a little too damp for his liking, that had hundreds of glittery crystals in the walls and ceiling, and how Monsters would pretend they were stars and would wish upon them. His hand stopped to rest on the back of your neck, warm and comforting, as he told you about a park he used to visit when Monsters first came to the Surface, just to help himself learn to exist around humans again, to remind himself that the War was long over and he was no longer Underground.

The longer he talked and tended to you, the more you relaxed against him. There was no pressure here, no judgment or demands. You let his careful touches and gentle warmth calm you, his smoky-sweet scent and soft voice soothe away your worries until your world was just him.

After a while, Grillby fell silent and a few moments later, you felt yourself being eased away from his chest to sit upright. You almost opened your eyes, but a soft “don’t” from him kept you from doing so. He ran his hands from your shoulders up your neck to your cheeks, cupping them gently, pulling you just a little closer, and you felt him kiss your forehead. Another followed, then one on your temple, your cheek, then forehead again. He repeated the process on the other side of your face, then placed a teasing one on the tip of your nose, making you giggle. Finally he pressed his lips to yours, and when he pulled back, you chased him, wanting more. The kisses that followed were soft and sweet. Though he held you close, a hand cradling the back of your head, he let you decide how long to hold them, how many you wanted at a time, and when you needed a moment to take a few calming breaths.

“I-I love you, Grillby. I love you s-so much,” you whimpered during a break, your emotions becoming unstable again. Your throat tightened like you were about to cry. You didn’t deserve someone who was this patient and kind and understanding, did you? He shouldn’t have to deal with the mess you were. He deserved someone more put together and confident like him. He should just –

“Look at me, sweet spark. I’m right here. You’re okay,” he cooed, derailing your disparaging thoughts and bringing you back to the moment. You squinted at first, finding him too bright to look at initially. His flames were a vibrant orange-yellow, and his eyes filled with as much tenderness as you’d ever seen. “I love you, too. I’m very proud of you. You’re doing so well.” He nuzzled your cheek before sitting back. You smiled shyly as his fingers brushed through your hair. “Would you like to keep going? Maybe try some open-mouthed kissing?”

“I-I don’t know what to do…” Your nerves returned, though not nearly as much as you had expected. Grillby’s careful attention had left you feeling far more relaxed and secure than you thought was possible for someone as anxious as you.

“That’s alright. We can play a little bit, try things out. It doesn’t have to go any further than that.”

A thought occurred to you. “I…It won’t hurt you, will it? I-I mean…humans have saliva, which is primarily water, a-and you’re…you know…”

He shook his head with an understanding smile. “There shouldn’t be enough to be harmful to me. But I promise to tell you if something is wrong as long as you promise to tell me if things become too much.”

“O-okay…deal.” You managed a shaky grin of your own.

Grillby kissed your forehead. “Would you like me to take the lead?”

“Y-yes, please,” you answered fast enough to make him chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Close your eyes again for me.” It took you a moment to obey, still a little uncertain about the actual kissing. “You’re trembling,” he murmured, his hands running up and down your arms. “What are you worried about?”

“I…I’m still afraid of messing up or letting you down,” you admitted.

“You won’t. Do you know how I know that?” He lightly tapped your nose, making you squeak. “Because the only things I have asked of you are that you trust me and try, and you are. I didn’t ask for perfection, and I never will. I love you, and that includes everything that comes with who you are.”

“E-even when I’m sad or scared?”

“Well…alright. I don’t like when you’re scared, but I do like that you let me comfort you. I don’t like seeing you cry, but I do like that you let me dry your tears. I love that you feel safe enough with me to let yourself be fragile. I love seeing your smile when you feel better.” His hands cupped your cheeks as you did just that. “Yes, that one right there,” he added, laughing when you lightly pushed his shoulder, embarrassed by his teasing. He kissed your forehead, an arm going around your waist. “Would it be alright if I took a little control of you for this?” he asked, turning a little more serious.

You frowned. You wanted to say that he had been in control this whole time, but that wasn’t true. For the whole experience, he had asked before doing anything, waited for your confirmation, and you had no doubt that he would’ve respected any request to stop. Whatever he wanted, you knew it wouldn’t be anything that would hurt you, but that he was asking to take away some of your autonomy was a little unnerving just on principle. “Wh…what do you mean?”

“…I don’t know how to explain what I have in mind. May I show you?” You hesitated before nodding. The hand that was still on your cheek slid to behind your head. He wove his fingers into your hair and tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to turn your head without meeting some resistance from his hold. The realization wasn’t as upsetting as you thought it would be. “Relax your neck and shoulders for me,” he requested, and you obeyed. He slowly, carefully, tilted your head from one side to the other, then back to expose your throat to him. “I want to be able to move you as I kiss you so I can find out what feels best for both of us. I won’t jerk you around or anything of the sort, just move you,” he said, tipping your head forward (you were surprised by the flicker of disappointment you felt that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to kiss your neck). “Is this okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed.

Grillby pulled you closer, your arms automatically wrapping around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him.  You almost leaned in to initiate the first kiss, but your nerves held you back, still worried about failing him. He must have felt your uncertainty, because he placed a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. “You are safe, my spark. Safe, and loved very dearly.”

“I-I know…I trust you,” you answered softly, sincere despite feeling out of your depth.

“I know you do.” You heard the smile in his voice. He kissed your lips just as gently once, twice, then a little harder, held for a little longer, and then back to soft. He repeated this several times, kissing you deeper and then backing off, gauging your reaction and adjusting for it. The attention and care led you deeper into security, so when you felt his lips part against yours, you responded by doing the same without a thought. You felt something different, hot and pliant, sweep across your lower lip. His tongue. You pulled back just a little at the realization, more out of surprise than anything else. He titled your head to nuzzle your cheek. “Too soon?”

“’M not sure,” you mumbled, your answer honest.

He tipped your head back and placed several kisses along your jaw, traveling down to your throat. You whimpered softly at the sensation, making him chuckle. “What you really want is for me give you some attention here, don’t you,” he purred against your neck. It was not a question.

You swallowed, caught between embarrassment and anticipation. “Y-yes…”

“I’ll give you what you want, but you have to do something for me first.”

Your arms tightened around his shoulders, anxious even if you knew he wouldn’t ask for anything crazy or let anything bad happen. “O-o-okay?”

“I want to tell yourself that you are worth this, that you deserve patience and kindness and love. Even if you don’t believe it yet, I want you to hear you say that you are enough simply by being you.”

A tear squeezed its way out from your shut eyelids. That was probably the hardest thing he could’ve asked of you, and he knew it. He knew how little you thought of yourself, how much self-loathing you held, how you believed you were nothing but a burden to him and those you loved, how you thought you hadn’t done enough to earn the things he did for you. So of course he would ask you to be kind to yourself.

[sisters-sideblog]

Jewelry

I'm working on an actual "start of the story"-story for my (still untitled) Links Meet AU but have also been writing little snippets to start getting a handle on personalities and interactions. I liked how this one came out!

Fandom: Legend of Zelda (Not LU!) Characters: Legend, Wild, Mask Rated: PG (mild language) Wordcount: 680

“Y’even wear that outfit when you’re climbing up on mountains? With snow? Don’t you get cold?” Mask’s slightly louder than necessary question turned a few nearby heads, Legend’s included. Wild didn’t appear to be bothered by the extra attention.

“Sometimes, if it’s cold enough. That’s why I wear this.” She thumbed the jewel centered in the circlet over her brow, then bumped one opal earring with a curled finger to make it flash in the light. “These have an enchantment, too, but I’m just wearing them today because they’re pretty.”

Ravio and Men turned back to the ledgers they’d been pouring over. But Legend, sensing a more interesting conversation, twisted around to peer over the back of his chair towards where Wild and Mask sat at the dining table. “Is all your jewelry enchanted?” he wanted to know.

“Most of it. I helped someone out who makes them, she gives me good prices. I’ve commissioned a few mundane things from her too.”

“What kinds of enchantments?”

“Mostly elemental effects. Protection and the like. Why?”

Ravio gave him a shove and a cross look; he was probably being distracting, calling across the room like this. Legend got up from the couch and instead dropped down to sit across from Wild at the table where she and Mask had been swapping stories that, so far as Legend could tell, had meandered away from comparisons of their versions of Death Mountain to, somehow, climbing things.

He held out a hand, on which glittered some of the things he’d managed to bring back from his adventures abroad; the rings that had been on his fingers and looped on a cord around his neck when he shipwrecked for the second and final time. He pointed to the one with a heart-cut ruby set in gold. “This one has a slow healing effect.”

Now fully interested, Wild bent over Legend’s hand, asking after the rest. It didn’t take long for both of them to be bringing out everything they had on them, comparing the spells.

Mask’s eyes darted between them, watching and listening with his chin propped up on his hands and his swaying feet occasionally finding Legend’s knees and shins beneath the table. Eventually, he seemed to tire of the topic. “Masks are better,” he declared, with just a hint of defiance and a challenging gleam in his eye.

“You trying to start shit, pipsqueak?” Legend demanded, squawking when Mask kicked him again, deliberately this time.

Wild nudged him with her elbow. “If you used them enough to be titled after them, I can’t say I’m surprised. Sometimes it’s nice to feel pretty, though.” She patted at the jeweled band around her bun.

“I’ve got a mask for that, too.”

“A mask for feeling pretty?”

“This I’ve got to see,” Legend said dryly.

“Is it one of those fancy ones with lots of beads and ribbons like the Rito use in their festivals?” Wild guessed.

Mask shook his head. Grinning, he ducked under the table. When he sat back up, he had on a mask depicting a feminine face that trailed long streams of bright fuschia hair, all wreathed in plants. It had an ethereal quality to it that made Legend squint with niggling recognition. He saw Wild doing much the same.

“Huh,” Legend said.

Wild ran her hand down one of the mask’s multiple ponytails. “It’s got nice hair?” she offered. She pulled her hand back, an abrupt motion, staring between her fingers and what they’d just been touching as if they’d done something unexpected. “That’s, uh. Floating?”

“Wait, it is?” Mask twisted around to look. The hair streamed after him, drifting up and around as if following the movement on a gentle current. “It is! You two can sit here and talk about your jewelry, I gotta go find the fairy. Bye.”

With that, he shoved away from the table, twisting his head from side to side before following some unknown prompting of direction from the mask and trotting towards the door.

Wild and Legend both blinked.

“Wait, it finds fairies?” Legend yelped.

[cellody]

DWC: Day V

MIRACLE & TENSION @daily-writing-challenge MENTIONS: @rylandfalkov, @twosidedsana & @vixannya�� (The Elements)

Air.

Ironic, really… considering how much the last two elements had seemed like a fresh breath of that. Knowing what he’d now be getting into made him want to hold his breath. Thank the gods, too, that signs had been set up to remind the once-upon-a-time acolyte about what exactly would be around the bend—and how untamed that subject matter would continue to become the later the hour grew.

Lance was an adult, though. He was sometimes teased for not looking it and more-often belittled as a crybaby but that was exactly why he wanted to be able to say he partook in every art room; he wanted others to see it as a miracle and reconsider what little they knew about the cellist. Yes, he had fragile health that paired with his lightweight form and hushed volume, but there was a lot of strength that could come from softness. That underestimation in question was one such feat.

...Now or never, then. A deep huff in was drawn before slowly letting it out ounce by ounce, step by step, and heartbeat by heartbeat. Here, he was ushered from the admiration of paintings to the admiration of bodies—the emphasis on ambiance and food replaced by the emphasis on lustful entertainment and drugs. That was not to say these rooms were drawl in comparison to what Lance personally favored, but they did succeed in illuminating where the eyes were to wander as his own faintly-glowing pair of greens took it all in once paused by the doorway.

The stage was ethereal. So... sleek. The architecture here seemed made up of marble accenting and pillars that reached illusioned skies of gray, distant threats of thunder flowing right along with the club’s rumbling beat. Seemed Lance had just wandered in when some sort of suspense had been building up amongst the dancers because all the lights in the room dramatically and suddenly dimmed so that only those beside seating and along pathways could keep people from tripping. The music halted all the same. For a moment… the only thing that could be heard as everyone turned in hushed confusion was a breeze skirting leaves across the dancers’ feet—or where they would have been, for in the next instance, spotlights mimicked lightning and every pole lit up when the performers upon them expertly dropped into sideways splits mere inches above the ground. This caused quite a lot of loose layers to fall open or altogether off of each flexible pair of hips, and this, in turn, clearly had the entire room erupting into whistles and applause.

Now that vision was restored and servers could resume treating those in attendance, Lance was stopped by a particularly height-blessed troll with abs adorned in silvery-blue paints. The waiters were as different from the prior rooms as what sat upon their offered trays; rather than suit-like uniforms, they donned little more than the dancers had and finger foods were replaced by a myriad of joints. Before Lance’s face even had time to react with a baffled blush in both ears, the gentleman cooed, “What do you crave?”

The smaller of the two cleared his throat and unraveled his fan to fidget with. “Um... just—just water, please.”

A curious, squinting gaze swept up and down the luthier’s appearance. “Water for the lamb,” he grinned. “Coming right up.”

Water... for the lamb? Brows knit. It wasn’t until the troll had turned to begin filling an empty glass upon his platter that Lance announced, “Actually... some red wine. I’ve no preference on brand.”

Blood for the goat.

Something about this got the troll to quietly cackle as he made the switch to head for the bar (where the softer alcohols sat less asked for), nodding. The dancers appeared to wrap up their assigned time in the same moment as another bout of hearty clapping followed each performer’s bow. Murmurs and conversation casually replenished the room and Lance took this moment to try and find a spot further in lest he become honed in on by one of the more private workers. However…

“Good to see you somewhere other than The Antonidas Memorial~”

Lance’s pacemaker-synced bracelet blipped to signify a hiccuping pulse as he wheeled around to greet the face of one he was sure had just been reenacting cursive lines with arms and legs above the stage. His requested glass of wine was being held out in offering though he neglected to realize this until four more seconds of staring. “—Ryland?”

“Ahh~! My name is remembered.” Heavens have mercy; that grin was about as bright as the spotlights had been. The wine was lifted to catch those spring eyes and outstretched a second time so that Lance could accept it with a murmur of thanks. “I about bumped into the bartender on my way to my break! Offered to deliver this as an apology. Much different than your usual tea, hm?”

“Right,” he blinked, lashes briefly fluttering as recognition dawned on him. That was it—they’d spoken a few times at Fancy Cakes though it’d been years since he last attended one. And… Ryland was far more covered up back then. And sharing in Sana’s company. Here and now, singled out, the feeling was entirely different. Foreign, even. “I-I can’t believe you recall me after so long…” Half a smile was mustered after forcing his first swallow of Dalaran Red lest he become dehydrated. “—I am afraid it is my curse to only ever catch the ends of performances but the climax of that one was magical.”

Hands now freed of their delivery went to playfully poke at each of those livestock-akin horns that birthed many a nickname. “You’re quite unique! Pretty sure I remember Sana making you squirm a bit, too; never would have expected you here. Aaand thank you very much! Does that mean you are enjoying yourself?”

Good. Lance’s ego was non-existent but that seemed to make the demon in him purr once; being brave enough to fish out other’s compliments had been precisely what he desired in cutting tension out of his social life. “Yes, very much so. So far, at least.”

“So far?! However may I help make sure you stay pleased?” A rather literal wink and nudge was delivered to that smaller waist.

Again, his throat cleared. How amusing it must have been to watch Lance feign interest in everything but the sparkling specimen before him—still covered, even, where it mattered, by drapery. “Well… since you are dancing here��” Ryland took to emphasizing that fact by swaying his hips. “…perhaps that means you know Vixannya?”

An amused groan sounded off when the half-elf stopped. “Really, Lance,” was drawled through a grin. “Yes. I think she’ll likely be around the red carpet or Fire room the most. Why, am I not what you are after?” It was worth one last teasing try, at least.

He knew full and well what Ryland was insinuating whether it was just a part of his job or something (impossibly) genuine... but he wasn’t sure how best to reply without potentially offending the poor man. It thus took him a moment of bashful shrugging before he recited, “I really only came for the art—of which you are a part of. But I’m more of a viewer than a…” His nose wrinkled. How to put it? “…kinetic… enthusiast.” The thought of mentioning his partner back home had also come to mind multiple times already but he knew that wasn’t always a deterrent when so many people nowadays were into polyamory. He thus harbored the name like some sort of schoolboy’s secret.

“Bah. I get it; I’ll keep my dick away.” Pat, pat went a glitter-dusted hand atop Lance’s head meant both to offer a brotherly sort of gesture and dispense some of the material into his hairline. Had to help the timid thing get into the party vibe somehow.

Lips perked into a smile per that bluntness and then a chortling grin when someone unknown brushed past Ry and copped a feel of his rear. As expected, this completely stole the almost-naked man’s attention and he turned to stalk after the giggling lady. Lance, meanwhile, deeply inhaled the aroma of his drink just above its mauve surface, sipped, and closed his eyes. This was… kind of nice.

Just then, however, somewhere in a not-so-distant room of activity, a crescendo of vowels burst forth through the muffle of walls. “Aoohh~!”

Nevermind. Time for the gallery.

[thunderousone]

Chapter 18

Summary: Eirene's vision shakes Vír and Lyire. Lyire answers some of her burning questions regarding bonded elements and mates.

TW: depression, profanity, graphic depictions of sex, pain kink, childhood trauma, parental trauma, chronic pain

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Status: Finished work! Chapter 18/23.5

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated 🤍

masterlist | read it first on ao3

“Explain what you saw again,” Lyire's agitated pacing had transformed the once serene living room into a whirl wind of restless energy. His lithe fingers were buried in his white hair and his voice deep again. A few weeks of normalcy- that’s all they had.   

“I saw Hino. Or at least who I think was Hino," Eirene recounted the vision again. Her voice trembled, struggling to come to terms with what she saw. "He was a prisoner, with chains binding his arms to the floor and wrapped around his chest. He looked like he was screaming, trying to break free. He looked terrifying,” Eirene was still shaking from what she saw. Hino was so cocky and arrogant yet the last time she'd seen him he looked gentle and sad... And in her vision he looked utterly feral. Like he’d kill himself to get free. 

Without hesitation, Vír immediately left to go speak to elder members of the Gathering to report what she’d seen in the fire.  

“Do you know how you saw that? Have you ever seen anything like it before?” He stopped pacing and sat down with her, wrapping her up in his arms to calm her down. With voice while still low and deep, was still soft and caring. 

“Never,” Eirene tried to control her fear. Not for fear of Lyranth. They learned that feeling all your emotions was good for them- but for herself.  

Lyire was dead asleep when he heard her scream echo down the halls. Vír’s lips were still wet with her pleasure when he found them in the study. “When Vír is back hopefully we’ll have some answers. Until then do you want to lie down?” 

“I don’t think I can. I don’t… do well when he’s gone,” she admitted almost embarrassed. 

“I understand. Bonded elements make people feel crazy. Come on, you can at least try,” he stood up and offered her his hand. They walked up to her room and sat together by candlelight.  

"You said 'bonded elements' earlier- what does that mean?" Eirene watched the flame of the candle burning next to her, scared of what she might see in it.  

Lyire used his wind idly to crack open a window and let fresh air in. "We say 'elements' but we really mean anything that makes up the mortal world. Bonded elements are just that, two elements that pair perfectly together. Smoke and fire, pain and pleasure, the moon and stars, sun and the sky, thunder and lightning. Some are just meant to perfectly fit with the other." 

Eirene didn't turn to face him, instead she remained entranced by the candle that remained a steady flame in the wind. "And that's different from finding your mate?" A question she has wanted to ask for a while now but it felt timid to ask Vír.  

"Yes and no," He put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it softly as her eyes began to feel heavy with sleep. "Often times bonded elements lead to a mating bond. Caelum and Kumi for instance. He is The Ethereal One and she is the Moon Light. They're perfectly matched for each other, have been for centuries. And their wielders before that were mates. Some are just lucky like that." 

"Vír said that his father knew his mother was his mate long before she did, that she was resistant to it at first. How can that be? I mean, we find it almost impossible to be away from each other... How could she not know? How could she resist?"  

"I think there's more to that story than even we know. Some people live side by side with the elements, some people are controlled by them, and demand control over their elements. It all depends..." Lyire leaned his head back on the head board, still mindlessly rubbing her shoulder. "It's important to know that you are not your lightning, I am not my wind, he is not his thunder. We're just conduits for them. We just keep them in balance. It's important you don't lose that. You get a say in what you feel, what you do. While the lightning is a wild element, you're still you." 

Eirene pulled her gaze from the candle and she could fee that Vír was near again. She hadn't felt truly like herself in awhile now, but how could she? This had all happened so fast, she hasn't even been able to visit her home yet. She turned over to look at Lyire as he gazed down at her softly. "Do you think the lightning and I are compatible? Do you think it would ever choose me as it's wielder? I think that when it does my bond with Vír will fall into place, or so he seems to think. I just feel like it hasn't fully accepted me." 

Lyire's back straightened up as he heard footsteps downstairs. "I think that the lightning cares for Vír, and it will do whatever it can to make him happy. If that means finally accepting you then I think that’s a real possibility. But I know you aren't mated fully right now because if you were Vír would already be in here with his hands snapping my neck for being in the same bed as you... Protective crazy ass mated partners" He laughed quietly and pushed himself up out of bed. Dropping a sweet kiss into her hair he headed out into the hallway, leaving the door cracked. 

She could hear the two men talking quietly out in the hall and soon Vír entered the room silently. Eirene reached for him in the darkness, pulling him closer to her. 

“Shhh, I’m home. Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning,” he stroked her curls lovingly.  

__ 

That night she dreamt of Hino. He was alone in a stone room, with metal chains wound tightly around his neck, wrists, and chest. They were searing white hot from his flames and the flames in the fireplace and were embedded somewhere deep in the ground. The chains sizzled with the sound of skin on heat as pulled and yanked at them, desperate to be free. His body bore telltale marks of days of struggle, where his skin was red and raw where the chains were. The red didn't look like welts from heat but from pulling and twisting to be free.  

In the warm red light of the fire he screamed into the nothingness around him, an animal caged and going out of his mind. He faced away from her still but she knew nothing would be behind his eyes but his blazing anger. He slumped to his knees, chains clanging to the stone. The room was silent for a moment with the absence of his screaming. Hino‘s head was slumped down and Eirene yearned to reach out and comfort him. He sold them out... But no one deserves this.  She longed to reach out and comfort the man who had betrayed them, a kindness that transcended the lines of loyalty. Her hand extended towards his broad, muscular shoulder. Hino's neck gradually arched to the side, as if he were instinctively leaning into the caress. His skin was hot, too hot. But it didn't hurt her. Through her dream she rested her hand there and hushed his screaming through the dream. His breath caught in his throat, which was ravaged from what might have been days of endless screaming.  

This is a dream, Eirene thought to herself. But how could she dream this? He responded to her touch, to her voice. 

“Hino?” Eirene asked quietly. 

His flame red hair dropped again and she saw his shoulders shake. He was chuckling to himself. His silver hoop earrings dangled from his ears with the motion. 

“Hino… can you hear me?” Such a stupid question. She was dreaming, lucid dreaming Paarth used to call it. When you can tell you’re dreaming while it’s happening.  

"I don't know what it is you think you're doing but you cannot break me- I won't yield, Ravi." His voice was gruff and raw but his accent still had a lingering cockiness in it as his neck rolled away from Eirene's ghostly touch.  

"It's Eirene- Hino, can you really hear me?" She pulled lightly on his shoulder, her fingers touching the white hot metal did nothing to her. She had to be dreaming.  

He turned with the tug of her hand on his shoulder, slowly standing again. Eirene saw his eyes filled with anger one moment, ready to rip into Ravi. And the next with wild desperation, fear, and something else. "You're dreaming," he squeezed his eyes shut tight. For a moment Eirene thought he was her subconscious confirming what she believed, but he shook his head as his red hair tossed to the side and he chuckled. "I've gone fucking mad oh my god," laughing again. A beautiful yet unhinged sound, the words curling on his tongue. 

"Where are you? You're hurt? How can I help? Hino I don't think we're dreaming please. It's me the Lightningcaller-" Her words spilling out or something she said must have snapped him out of it. His neck snapped up to actually see her for the first time and his eyes burned red hot as he lunged for her like an animal. His hands were still bound to the ground so she stepped back out of his reach as he screamed loudly. He yanked at the shackles around his hands as the one around his chest restrained him further. 

"Run! Leave. Don't try to come back here- don't try to find me. Leave me alone, Lightningcaller. GO!" And the back of her eyelids went red. 

 __ 

She awoke with Vír asleep behind her. The candle in front of her still burned brightly, it should have burned out hours ago. She blew out the candle and let the darkness over take her and tried to shake her nightmare. 

__ 

She awoke the next morning with Vír already awake next to her. She curled up tighter to him. “Don’t leave. Ever again,” she whispered into his chest.  

“I know. I’m sorry love,” he kissed her messy hair and squeezed her tightly.  

“Any news? What’s happening?” She kept the details of her nightmare to herself. She couldn't believe it herself, how would he? 

“Sit up,” he freed her and slid himself upright. She did the same and he grabbed her hands, massaging her electricity into him.  

“It’s… not ideal,” he continued, winching in pain at the tiny releases is sparks. “My father has captured Hino, taken his kingdom. He’s been trying to pull the fire from him,” Eirenes eyes met his and she saw the sadness in his. But she knew it was not sadness for Hino. 

“Lyranth.” 

“The last forest burned last night,” He closed his hands around hers. 

Bile was rushing through her, and fast. She ran to the bathroom and released the acrid vomit from her body not once but twice. He rubbed her back as his magic hummed through her and she looked at him with tear filled eyes.  

“What can we do?” She asked for both Lyranth and Hino. She knows he sold her out, but there was more to it than that and she knew it.  

“Luckily while that was happening I had a lovely view of your-“ she elbowed him at the lazy smile he had for a second. “Well, luckily we were content and my rain was falling at the same time. I didn’t even have to think about it, it was just happening... Trying to heal. They lost most of the forest to the smoke and fire, but some still remains. They’re working on rebuilding the forest as we speak, and it didn’t reach the village.” 

“What about Hino? It will happen again, right?” She asked. She shouldn’t care what happened to him but if it hurt her home she would end him herself.  

“If he knows what’s good for him he died under my father's torture. My father probably wields fire against us now. We can deal with fire easily.” He assisted her as she stood up from the cold marble floor.  

“I don't think he has it yet," She didn't dare explain further. "But can’t just let him die down there, continuing to burn Lyranth.” she protested. “We can’t just sit here waiting for the day he marches with an army into our home,” she saw the storm clouds roll in his eyes at those words. Our home.  

“I’ve said I can’t deny you anything... What do you want to do?” 

[360iris]

Like Then (James Potter x Reader x Sirius Black x Remus Lupin)

Warning: Does this qualify as hurt/comfort?? Maybe comfort/hurt? Is this even angst? Ah! I tried! Fem!Reader using she/her pronouns.

Word count: 1,201

Summary: Why do girls always leave The Yule Ball heartbroken?

A/N: This is a Prequel to my fanfic, Like You! We’ve reached 408 followers, which is big considering I had zero when I first posted “Like You”. Welcome on board, sweeties! I was the most elated in the midst of trying to explain how chaotically Sirius + Y/N would dance and the most sullen trying to properly word the ending.

Of course Lily would be James’ date to the Yule Ball. They’d been together for about six months now and he’d wanted nothing more than to see her all dolled up just for him. 

Her fiery red locks curled and pinned, not to mention the sterling silver dress she’d been able to pick out with her mother. She was a sight for sore eyes, glowing as if she’d been taken directly from his sweetest dream. So why did his eyes drift to the other side of the room? 

Half of his attention divided on the lovely girl in front of him, where it should be. Focusing on the way her eyes gleamed and the showstopping smile that never failed to make his heart race. She was enjoying herself tonight, swaying in his arms and giggling at almost every joke he made; a rarity.

But the other half of his attention, the other half of himself, was with them. 

Sirius had Y/N’s hand in his grasp and was twirling the beaming girl in place, her laughs bubbling up into the space around them. Remus must have slipped away to take a breather because he was seated alone with a fond smile on his lips, watching the duo dance.  

Could he even call what they were doing dancing? Sirius’ extensive knowledge on waltzing, mixed with the younger girl’s eager tango, had the pair moving sporadically. 

They turned about the room, swiveling, alternating and cross stepping. Every so often, Sirius lifted her off of the ground mid-twirl as if she were light as a feather. And though the way they moved was quite a spectacle, partygoers giving the two a wide berth, they were in their element.

 It was as if the world had melted away and they were left in each other’s company.

When the song came to an end, Sirius parted from her quite begrudgingly. James could only guess what was being said, but with the boy putting on his best begging face, he was possibly asking to go another round. His fingers reluctantly releasing hers as she pulled away from his grasp. 

James watched as she all but skipped to Remus’ side, mere seconds from going in to kiss him before seemingly remembering the presence of the school staff. She settled for clasping the boy’s hands and leaning up to his ear to whisper.

“James?” he heard from below him and promptly redirected his gaze.

“What was that again, love?” he asked and she smiled up at him. He faintly felt his chest shag and heart give a euphoric leap.

Lily laughed when he bent his head to press a kiss into her hair, “I said that I’m gonna go the restroom real quick, I’ll be back.” 

“Of course, dear. I’ll get some punch then.” and before long she was slipping through the crowd. 

He watched after her until he was unable to differentiate her head bobbing from all the rest. Eventually trudging to the refreshments table in hopes of clearing his head.

His cup was midway to his mouth before a soft, 

“Unfortunately there isn’t any booze in there.” sounded from his left and he nearly jumped from his skin.

The red liquid in his grasp promptly sloshing onto his shoes.

A curse slipped from his lips as he took the napkin offered to him, quickly cleaning himself off. 

Looking up he finds Y/N leaning against the table, an amused smile playing on her face.

“Since when did you sneak up on people?” He asked, standing up straight and setting down his drink. 

“Didn’t sneak up on you, James. I was standing here before you even got to the table; but you’d know that if you weren’t busy daydreaming. What’s on your mind? Let me guess! Devious plans of what you’re gonna do with Evans tonight perhaps?” She questioned, tossing a chicken popper into her mouth.

Eventually offering him one when all she got back in response was him staring dumbly at the ensemble she was wearing. 

He’d briefly been shown the dress she was planning to wear weeks before the event, but it was a different experience actually seeing her in it. 

The lengthy, shimmering fabric draped and folded to the floor elegantly. The metallic fringes of her shawl glinting and swaying with every movement she made. She looked positively ethereal.

Acknowledging his silent gawking, she gave an indulgent twirl, “You like it, J? I was going for 70s era Stevie Nicks, but Sirius said I just look like a muggle’s imitation of a witch. What do you think?” She asked with a pout, fluttering her eyelashes expectantly. Notedly taking one of his larger hands into her own. 

He allowed himself to inwardly admit that she looked undeniably adorable fiddling with his fingers. How pink her lips were tonight.

“I honestly don’t know who that is, love. Where is Sirius anyway?” He coughed awkwardly, pulling his hand back and looking anywhere but her in faux search of his friends.

If his eyes had still been on her, he’d have seen how crestfallen she’d looked at his refusal to acknowledge her question. How she pulled her shawl over her shoulders tighter and attempted to shake off the feeling of dejectedness that silently clawed at her heels.

“He’s over there, trying his hardest to get Remus to kiss him in front of all these poor bystanders. You should have heard how fervently he pleaded with me earlier; he could’ve made a sailor blush.” She laughed and James caught sight of the two boys slowly swaying in between the sea of people.

The contrast of how gently he held Remus was stark. The pair barely moved from their spot on the floor in comparison to the full blown recital that took place only minutes before.

“Despite his remarks, he loves the two of you a great deal.” He found himself saying, melancholy apparent in his voice. The words tumbling from his lips before he could fully think them over.

“Why’d you say that so glumly, as if it doesn’t apply to you as well?” Y/N asked abruptly, an unexpectedly harsh edge to her tone.

“What?” Turning his attention back to her, he was shocked by the deep furrow in her brow. She clutched at her shawl so tightly her knuckles were turning pale.

“You say that as if we- as if he didn’t confess his feelings for you just the same! As if you didn’t choose-“ Her voice was raising but cut off before it garnered anyone else’s attention.

“James?” He heard from behind him and he already knew it was Lily, slight confusion laced in her voice.

In the time it took for him to turn to Lily in acknowledgment and back, Y/N was already moving to depart.

“Speak of the devil-“ She whispered exasperatedly, voice so low he barely caught it over the music. Releasing the deathgrip on her shawl, she allowed her hands to fall to her sides defeatedly.

“Goodnight, James.” Is all she offered before she was padding towards the main entrance; and though he moved to follow, the hand enveloping his own from behind grounded him.

This was where he was supposed to be, he reminded himself. Even if she took half of him with her.

[filthforfriends]

On the Cliffside

Damiano x fem reader

Word count: 2k

Based on a blurb request by @lifeofa-fangirl

By the time they called dinner you were starving. It’s not that you hadn’t brought plenty of snacks, you just hadn’t accounted for the amount of calories you’d burn on this shoot. Take after take of running through the forest at full tilt, barefoot, with the freezing wind from the coast whipping your hair. Everything about this music video had been kept secret. You weren’t given a script until you climbed in the van at your brutal 5am call time to be shuttled into the woods.

It was a three day shoot, and you’d only been hired for one. From what you could tell it was an ancient sacrilegious concept with pagan and Wiccan elements. Victoria was playing some sort of false god worshipped in this gorgeous coastal setting. They’d even hired a witch as a producer and you wished you had time to prepare beyond aggressively skimming wikipedia articles.

As unpleasant as it was, the cinematography was glorious. Dawn cracking itself open, splayed across the sky in the background. The light shone through the fabric, you looked ethereal. The director had you change into progressively bloodier dresses, more desperation and anxiety in your footfalls contrasting with the golden sunrise. Fake blood was sprayed on your face and he had you do a couple takes actually screaming.

“Yes, got it! Thank you, y/n, that’ll be all for a while.” The second round of crew arrived with the band, all yawning as the disembarked from the van. You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but thought better of asking to change. You knew the rules, don’t bother the staff, don’t bother the talent. Essentially be a potted plant unless you’re needed on camera. There was a table with coffee placed right by the producers, so it wasn’t general catering. Why hadn’t you thought to bring a thermos of something hot? The band went over and poured cups of coffee, already being poked and prodded by glam.

“You want some?” Damiano called to a crew member in your direction. “Hey there. Hey!” He’d taken a couple steps in your direction before you realized he was speaking to you. Most people treat background actors like pieces of the set.

“Oh, um,” you looked longingly, but saw all the higher ups gathered around the table. Damiano could sense that you felt torn, and put a guiding hand to your back.

“You need coffee, come on.” It was like Damiano’s acknowledgement of your existence made you no longer invisible to everyone else. A makeup artist looked at you and started digging in their belt.

“We’ve got to get this off before it stains your face, hun.” They started wiping your face and Damiano left, probably to get ready himself. You felt something being pushed into your hand and looked over to see him at your side again, handing you a cup of coffee. He winced at how roughly the makeup artist was scrubbing at a spot of fake blood right next to your eye.

“Thank you, um-” It was usually better to assume that someone liked to be addressed formally.

“If you call me anything other than Damiano, I’m suing.” The makeup artist turned away and you snorted with laughter. Something possessed you to say what you did next.

“All right, Mr. David.” He smirked, cocking an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, and you’re already covered in blood so your case is weak.”

“You know, now that you mention the fact that I’ve been covered in fake blood since 6am, I suppose I do deserve coffee.” You both take a sip while holding sizzling eye contact. Well then.

“I should apologize, I helped write the script.”

“You should apologize,” you quip. His expression is deliciously dangerous and you want to be in trouble. “Are you always so cruel, or do you save it for special occasions?”

“More like I save it for special people.”

“And somehow I’ve already met your prerequisites?”

“Damiano!” A crew member yells at him from across the set, and he’s swept away by wardrobe as soon as he looks over his shoulder. Wow. You can feel your cheeks heating up, and hope that flirting with Damiano hasn’t violated some taboo of professionalism.

You don’t get a chance to flirt verbally all day because you’re never alone. He’s unafraid, but seems to understand your plight. Physically though, it seems like the director is trying to set you guys up. It starts innocently enough, holding his hand in yours as your run along the cliffside. Then you’re dancing together in a clearing as the sun finally extends some warmth. Next he lays in a tangle of bodies while lip synching to camera. You do this with the other three band members as well.

Damiano watches the couple short shots you have intently. You skip and fling yourself through the forest while rock music blares in the background. Once a blackberry vine catches on your dress and you stay in character, pulling the fabric free and using the momentum to twirl.

“Nice,” calls the directer, both enthusiastic and monotone. “Lets do a couple more passes by thorns, y/n.” Damiano mouths your name and smiles at you, hearing it for the first time. “Getting caught and reacting in different ways.” You nod, unsure of how wardrobe is going to feel about you ripping your dress up for this shot. You do another take, integrating the catch of your dress into your movement. The director makes a sour face.

“Lets go to the ground, and then over top. Okay, Bill?” The cinematographer nods. Take after take you fall to the forest floor and the grips guide the camera over your head while you grin secretively like a nymph. “Lets make it sexier, y/n, its a sexy song.” You’re glad Damiano is needed somewhere else right now because this is humiliating. The next take you genuinely eat it and get the wind knocked out of you, but still manage to act like the grass is the embrace of a lover.

“Awesome! That looked so authentic. Let’s move on.” Thats because I am authentically in pain ass-wipe. You lay very still, hoping to be invisible again, as you catch your breath. “Y/n, come on! We need you in a couple shots with Victoria.” You and Victoria are wearing modesty patches, yards of gauzy black fabric, and nothing else. It’s the most intimate of a series of worship shots. You wiggle around sensually to everyone’s satisfaction, staring at her with pouted lips ad longing eyes.

“All right, I think you’re done.” Gratefully, you slink away in a bathrobe. You’ve just pulled on your day clothes when catering arrives. The only thing more potent than your exhaustion is your hunger. Luckily, you got first pick and the food was decent.

The sun is setting and you haven’t had time to explore, so you walk out of the tree cover and to the cliffside. The wind whips up the rock face in powerful gusts that smell like the ocean and tangle your hair. You have time to wander. It’s not even dark so it’ll be a while until a shuttle comes to take you back into the city. You mentally congratulate yourself for covering your paper plate with another on top, so your food will still be warm when you find a spot. The beach is sandy and beautiful, but the cliffs probably too sheer to navigate down. You’re pleasantly surprised at a rock outcropping protruding from a cove with a faint trail. It gets a bit dicey in the steeper parts for one-handed maneuvering, but you can at least climb half-way down and sit while you eat.

You can’t hear Daminao calling your name, his voice gets carried by the wind. Not until he’s nearly at the top of the outcropping do you turn around and see him, feeling flattered that he’d searched for you this far.

“How did you get down? he yells.

"There’s a trail!” You point right next to him, because he’s nearly stepping on it. To you it’s obvious.

“That is not a fucking trail, that is a path made for goats!” Your laugh gets lost in the wind, but he catches you smile in the last light of the setting sun. You scramble up the rocks and extend a hand.

“Let me hold you plate, while you climb down.” You take his food and watch Damiano gingerly brace his hands against the rocks, slowly picking his way down to where you wait. When he reaches the plateau, gritting his teeth, you struggle to keep a straight face. “Just sit down, for fucks sake, you’ll be fine,” voice still raised doing battle with the wind.

“I could literally die at any moment,” he deadpans. You splutter a laugh.

“Oh so you are the diva. I guess they were right.”

“I’d playfully shove you right now if it didn’t mean falling to your death.” You adored this warm, pink-cheeked, natural chemistry that buzzed between you. He wobbled trying to sit down awkwardly, so you gave him your hand and scooted over, gently pulling him so sit right next to you. Your knees and shoulders were pressed together as you looked out on the horizon.

“I spent part of my childhood growing up next to a beach like this. The sketchy pathways down cliff faces,” you clarified. “Not the expensive view.”

“I used to come to places like this all the time, when things started to pick up in Rome and I couldn’t breath.” You nodded in acknowledgment, knowing you didn’t understand, but that him sharing this with you was significant.

“Whenever I think about how big the ocean is, I feel less anxious.”

“Sea monsters?”

“No,” you gaff. “It reminds me that I’m insignificant, so my fucks ups are insignificant. Might as well do whatever I want to make a life with meaning.”

“I love that,” he murmurers. The air is heavy with tension that you can feel in your chest. Oh shit, I might really like him.

“Its so beautiful, in the twilight” you say blandly, like a coward.

“Its gorgeous.” You see Damiano move out of the corner of your eye and turn your head to find him gazing at you, not out onto the beach.

“Oh, fuck off!” You jostle him with your shoulder while you blush at the cheesy pickup line.

“You’re gonna knock me off a cliff,” he shrieks dramatically, laughing at himself. You throw your arms around him in a tight side hug.

“Now you’re not going anywhere, happy?” You sound indignant until your breath gets caught in your throat. Damiano has turned his face towards yours, his glorious Roman nose bumping your own. His eyes flit up to yours, then down to your lips. He wets his mouth and looks to your eyes again. You nuzzle him, savoring the moment, when you’re so excited about someone that you feel aflame. The electricity between you, gazing at his pretty mouth then his pretty eyes, was unbearable, but delicious.

You press a chaste, barely-there kiss to his lips, pulling back so you can swipe the tip of your tongue up the middle of his lips, to his cupids bow. Damiano makes a sound in the back of his throat resembling a growl and kisses you properly, hand sliding onto your mid-thigh.

For a first kiss, it’s damn good. He has the sense not to use tongue, but focus on creating a rhythm with you. He kisses you with pressure, mouths molding, but supports the back on your head with his hand. You quickly come to point where this exchange cannot be comfortably (or safely) continued on a cliff’s edge and you separate. You’re still holding onto each other, panting, and huffing in disbelief intermittently.

“We have protected beaches like this in Rome, y'know. It’s not just all resorts and umbrellas.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Castel Porziano and Sabaudia. You’d love it. Santa Severa has a castle. If you ever come to Italy, I’ll show you.”

“Really?” You wracked your brain for an excuse to go to Italy, besides the one sitting in front of you. After your pause, Damiano’s face changed completely.

“Shit, was that a completely psychotic thing to say after kissing you for the first time? Oh my god.” He looked absolutely mortified.

“Totally!” You kissed him again and he moaned into your mouth. “What part of Rome do you live in?”

Notes: I'm reposting this blurb as a fic. It was so fun to write! It'll be added to my Masterlist. Thank you for reading and requesting. <3

@gr8rainbowpunk @peesodaandtoast @homesicam @hiraetheral @l0standn0tf0und @iosonoarina @teenyweenynightghost @elvirabelle @8iunie @immrbrightsideeee @idyllicbutterfly @ilwiwbysmv @superchrystaldrug @que--sera--sera @obiw4n @minnietmouse @thatonebraziliangirl @bohemianrainbow @xweirdxsceletton @boyswillbeexecutied @daisy0gf @little-moonbeam-666 @teacosea @katyldamusic

[huihuiheart]

Sex God - Hyunjin pt. 2

Pairing: God! Hyunjin x Sub!Female Reader

Genre: Smut with some fluff and angst.

Summary: You made Hyunjin jealous and now you’d have to face the repercussions. Something you may have thought about a little more ahead of time, considering he had a few tricks up is sleeves. - Part 1 Here

Warnings: Jealous sex, unprotected sex, punishment, dom/sub themes, some bdsm themes, bondage, claiming, marking, biting, dirty talk, degradation, power play, corruption kink (hinted at), sensory play (kind of), oral ( m receiving), exhibition (slight), brat taming, spanking, orgasm control/denial, master kink, sex toys, vibrators, paddles, hair pulling, spit, cumshot, cum eating, squirting, praise, mirror sex.

Word Count: 4,070

“I would have thought that by now you’d know better than to test me, little girl. After all, it’d be a shame for you not to cum tonight, especially when that’s what I do so well.” Hyunjin’s threat is something you know he’d follow through with based on your experience, but that doesn’t mean you’re through with testing him just yet. No, if he was going to give you attention now, then you were going to make sure and get as much of it as you possibly could.

“Well, maybe I’ll go back to Felix then. I’m sure he would make it happen if you don’t want to.” You quip with a smirk that Hyunjin instantly wiped away with a smack to your inner thigh. Your clothes were off in a flash.

“Oh, little girl, when I’m through with you, you won’t be going anywhere.”

Hyunjin’s gaze was sharp, holding you captive as you tried to decipher all the meanings behind it. Giving any clue as to what punishments you might have earned yourself with your behavior, yet he gave nothing away. You know that even if he’s already decided on what to do with you that he’ll still stay silent for a few moments, letting your anticipation build. It gives him an edge and he knows it from the occasions when the silence has been enough alone to make you crack.

He takes a few steps before stopping right in front of you and pulling his sleeves up, before twirling his fingers, twirling silky ribbons of gold into existence. His eyes rake over your form possessively before licking his lips in a dark hunger, practically able to taste you on his tongue from the sheer memory of it. He won’t be getting to that quite yet though, not until he’s already chipped away at your inner brat a bit.

“Strip.” You blink at his sudden demand, making no move to do as he says quite yet, too stunned at the suddenness of it. His free hand grips your jaw, making you look him in the eyes as he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “You had your fun little brat, but now I’m in charge and unless you’d like to ask for worse I suggest you do as I tell you when I tell you. Now strip.”

“Y-Yes master.” You’re quick to correct, hands shaking as you bring them to the hem of your shirt. You make no sign of disobeying, however, knowing you’ve already infuriated Hyunjin enough to give you more than sufficient punishment for one evening. Perhaps, even to go farther than he was with you before. 

Hyunjin hums in approval, twirling his finger to motion for you to spin for him, wanting to see all of your form, “Good girl, finally listening to me. On the bed now. I want you on your knees, arms behind your back.” 

You know Hyunjin will be watching you intently ready to pick up on any little slip up that you might make, so you’re careful to do exactly as he’s told. Keeping your eyes down until he permits you to look at him. Hyunjin sets down the glittering ropes on the edge of the bed, barely in your line of sight, wanting to know if they’d catch your attention enough to make you break your suddenly compliant nature. When you continue to display submission he finally moves forwards, fingertips dancing along your thighs as he leans down to look up at your face. He minds himself smirking when you divert your gaze again.

“It seems like you can remember my rules...well when you want to.” Hyunjin chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leans back to grasp the silky ropes again, “You can look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what you did to earn everything I’m going to do to ruin your body tonight little girl.”

You slowly meet his gaze, gulping as you find the storm brewing in them, “I-I broke some of master’s rules. I was with another man a-and when master came to get me I back talked him. I-I was a brat and deliberately disobeyed him.”

“So you understand what I have to do to you then, don’t you little brat?” Hyunjin started to lay out the rope, preparing for what he was going to do next, licking his lips as your eyes twitched. Your sight was almost drawn to the motion of his actions but instead keeping on his eyes like he’d expected.

“I-I do. Master has to punish me, r-remind me of his rules. I promise I’ll take it, master, s-show you that I can be good for you.” Your voice wavers for a moment and Hyunjin picks up on it, pausing his actions. He leans forward, brushing your hair back behind your ear and kissing your temple in a gentle act.

“I know you will little girl, you always do. You remember our safe word?” Hyunjin’s tone has lightened up, showing you that while he’s worked up he cares so deeply for you. Your well-being is always his foremost concern and you know that nodding and quietly voicing the word. Hyunjin hums, placing one last kiss before leaning back and returning to his previous actions, “Face the other way.”

When you listen, keeping your hands behind your back Hyunjin gets exactly what he wants. You are in a perfect position for him to box tie your hands, something you’re familiar with in the bedroom with him. Hyunjin liked the way it allowed him to move you as he pleased, and the way it kept your hands out of his way, so he wouldn’t have to worry as much about accidents. He checks around his ties after he finishes to ensure that they aren’t too tight to bring you harm, before turning you around again. He then sets to work frog tying your legs, something much less common as he liked to watch the way they would shake as he made you feel good. Tonight though, he wanted to remind you who was in charge, who had the control here, so he decided to limit you more than usual in what you could do. Once finished he checked those ties as well, before stepping back to appreciate how good you looked with the delicate gold color shimmering against your skin.

After appreciating his handiwork for a moment, Hyunjin starts to back away leaving you there with widening eyes. He stops by the door, but never leaves, instead hitting the light switch and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light being the ropes Hyunjin had created and tied you up with, giving a faint golden glow around them, but not enough to allow you to really see anything. It gives Hyunjin another advantage, the element of surprise. Something you know he would use to put you on edge, not knowing what punishments you’ll be given before they’re delivered. 

You feel the bed dip with Hyunjin’s weight before the glow illuminates his face just slightly, it makes him appear even more ethereal than usual. It’s not a sight you get to enjoy long, however, before he grips your hips and flips you over onto your knees. He pushes your shoulder until you fall forward, cheek pressed against the mattress, while your ass is up and exposed. Your legs spread and unable to squirm even a little, leaving you positioned entirely at Hyunjin’s mercy.

His hand cracks down on the swell of your ass without warning drawing a whimper out of you before you feel his weight leave again. The only thing you have to go by is the occasional shuffling sounds as he moves to get what he wanted. You nearly jump when he tosses a few things onto the bed behind you, making him chuckle again as he notices you shift slightly before his stern side is showing through again.

“Careful little brat, you have nowhere to run now. Not that you’d want to anyway considering no one could treat you as good as I do anyway, hm?” Hyunjin questions you, his voice slowly drawing closer before his hand comes down on your ass again.

“N-No master, only you can treat me this good. O-Only you can teach me how to be a good little whore.” You whine, doing your best to stay still, but every little action that set your senses on fire was only increased by your lack of sight. 

“I want you to count them out for me, tell me just what your slutty behavior earlier earned you. If you mess up we won’t start over, I’ll just add five more for any mistakes you make from this point forward. Do you understand?” The second between his words and your breath to speak, you feel the leather from one of Hyunjin’s favorite paddles brushing over your ass. Giving you a hint of what you were in for, even if you still weren’t sure when you’ll be earning his mercy.

“Yes master, I understand.” You whimper out so softly, you’re not sure Hyunjin hears you, but lucky for you he does. 

He gives you a moment to prepare yourself, knowing he was going to put you through a lot, before delivering the first series of swift blows. Only five in and your voice starts to tremble, letting him know your body was on edge. By ten hits your slick is dripping down your plush thighs, core throbbing as it begs for attention that it won’t receive for some time still. After fifteen hits he gives you a moment to recover, knowing you had your voice was starting to be strained from crying out to him already. When he reaches twenty hits you’re starting to cry, tears painting your face and dazzling like little gems as the golden glow from the ropes hits them. Twenty-five hits and you’re getting a few soft whispered assurances from Hyunjin, him knowing you’re close to your limit. He gives you only five more, ignoring the wavering in your tone as you almost can’t call out the number, but trying so hard to behave for him, and right now that notion is enough. The last blow from the paddle is the hardest, but it lets you know he’s done.

Hyunjin’s hands rub over your ass, stinging slightly before helping soothe the burn left behind on your bruised flesh. He leans down to leave a few kisses, the action making you mewl and he chuckles before biting down on the tender skin. 

“Such a good little girl taking that. I don’t think you’ll forget who you belong to anytime soon with how sore your ass is going to be.” Hyunjin laughs under his breath before his touch leaves your skin. Leaving you in the dark again as to what he would do to you next, only hearing some shuffling again. 

Hyunjin’s hand strokes over your hair, caressing softly, before suddenly gripping it, sending pin pricks over your scalp in burning waves. He looks down at you smirking softly as his cock sits right out of reach of your mouth. The light from the ropes barely illuminates Hyunjin, but doing enough to let you make out the way his muscles tense while he grips your hair and holds himself back. Or the way his dark eyes bore into you, gold flickering through in beautiful sparkles from the glow, while his golden hair falls in front of his face, threatening to ruin your view.

“Look at how desperate you are, after acting like it was the last thing you wanted earlier. Trying to act all innocent like you weren’t trying to make all jealous. Like you aren’t just a little whore for me. What have I actually done to you, hm? You used to be a sweet little angel, now you’re a slut drooling from both ends for my cock.” Hyunjin taunts free hand gripping your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your lip, spreading the drool that had been threatening to spill out, “If you want it that bad, then I guess you can have it. You better make it good though, I still don’t think you’ve earned the chance to cum tonight, yet.”

Just because you were going to get a taste of him though, did not mean you had any control in the slightest. Hyunjin’s grip on your hair is still firm as he guides you close enough, letting you take your time as you take his length into your mouth, allowing you some time to appreciate it before he took over again. His eyes meet yours as they remain on him, unwavering and eager to please as you slowly take his length down your throat, trying to get used to the feeling again. Only getting a moment, before Hyunjin’s grip solidifies again, locking you in place as his hips start rutting into your mouth.

“L-Look at you sucking dick so skillfully, j-just like how I taught you. S-Such a filthy fucking slut for me.” Hyunjin groans, eyes scrunching closed for a moment when you earnestly swallow around him, hollowing your cheeks to only further add to his pleasure. You can still watch every facial expression he makes with his head hanging in soft moans, his pace picking up and making you gag around him the sounds only adding to the lewd scene as he forces his eyes open to enjoy every aspect of what is happening at this moment.

You take pride in knowing Hyunjin almost as well as he knows you, the triggers it takes for him to fall apart too. Which is how you know he’s right on the edge, something you’re hoping to throw him over before he denies you the satisfaction of his taste. Something else he often does whenever you’re being punished, though it wouldn’t be the first time you’d convinced him wordlessly to cum down your throat. Today, however, his resolve is firm, determined not to give into you until he’s satisfied you’ve learned that Felix is not the one who can do this to you. 

Hyunjin revels in the way that your whine, lips still parted as you try to resist his grip on your hair to wrap your mouth around his cock again. He’s having none of it though as he strokes himself to completion. Letting his cum paint your face and neck in the prettiest patterns. You wear him like a badge of honor, like a collar of the most beautiful sparkling gems and he thinks he might just have to gift you something of the sort as a reminder.

“I won’t give it to you that easy...not today.” Hyunjin chuckles, situating you to sit up on your knees once again. Him tapping your inner knee until you get the hint and spread your legs, humming in approval at the slick smeared along your inner thighs and what was on display between them. The color of the golden glow hitting your skin and dancing off your slick only makes you more appealing, “This color looks good on you little girl.”

His slight praise has you keening begging for his touch once more without even using words, only inflating his ego more. He knew exactly what he did to you and thrived off that power. When he leans in you think he’s going to kiss you, but he doesn’t, instead, his tongue laves over your cheek, collecting up some of his cum.

He hums as he pulls back to look into your eyes, his hand reaching back to grab something, “I love when you taste like me little one, just another reminder that you’re all mine.” 

Hyunjin gives you no clue as to what was in his hand as he kisses and nips harshly over your neck until he finds the spot he wants, biting down harder before licking to soothe the pain. Leaving kisses and soft sucks to the tender flesh to make up for it, but not letting up until he’s satisfied with the blossoming mark that’s left behind. Something he never mentions, however, knowing what he had in mind for later.

His surprise finally revealed when a soft buzz filled the air, Hyunjin bringing the wand to your thighs and teasing the vibrator over that, “We’re going to test you out little brat, see if you’ve actually learned to listen or not. You don’t get to cum until I say you do.” 

He doesn’t word it as a question he expects an answer to, or give you time to retort before the vibrator is turned all the way up and pressed against your clit. Instead, it’s a firm demand, an order that you know there will be dire consequences for if you can not listen to him. Yet, you also know Hyunjin is aware of how easily the wand in his hand makes you fall apart, especially when you’re this desperate. Your determination building at this point, determination to please him, and not earn yourself another punishment. 

Hyunjin grips your jaw, making you look at him as you moan, wanting to soak in even the tiniest flickers of reaction on your face. You’d learned early on that there was no way to hide from him when you were about to cum, so there was no use in trying. There was always a use for begging Hyunjin though, it was just a matter of how much begging it would take...and you had a feeling tonight it would take a lot. You weren’t aware of just how much begging though, until after four ruined orgasms, Hyunjin still pressed the vibrator against your clit without let up. Tears glistening as they streamed down your face.

“M-Master, please! I-I need to cum for you. I need it so badly, p-please let me. I-I’ve done my best to be good for you and show that I can listen and do whatever you ask, j-just please.” Your words come out in near sobs, as you gasp for breath feeling right on the edge once again.

“You can cum little girl when I tell you that you can. You better hold it.” Hyunjin growls nipping at your throat as he watches you closely, waiting until he knows you really can’t hold your orgasm back any longer before finally giving you some relief, “Cum. Now.”

You scream out as you cum, the sound a mix of relief and overwhelming amounts of pleasure. Your orgasm overpowering after the build-up since you both entered this room, it enough to make you squirt, something only Hyunjin was capable of making you do. Hyunjin slowly turned down the vibrator as you rode out your high, before taking it away when it started to change to painful overstimulation, feeling as if he’d tormented you enough at this point. 

“Shh, just breath little one.” Hyunjin coos, gently brushing your tears away and helping guide your breaths to get you to calm down a little bit, “There’s my good girl. You did so good taking everything I gave to you little girl, but I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Hyunjin moves you as he pleases, bending you over again only making sure you keep your head up and facing a mirror across the room. The item not even having crossed your mind, but looking into it now with the only thing illuminated in the pitch-black room the two of you that was all you could pay attention to. It only adds to the feeling as Hyunjin slowly presses his length into you, moaning quietly at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. His sounds, however quiet, are not something that you let just slip past you, especially not when they sounded like the most beautiful melodies mixed with your sounds. 

If you had asked Hyunjin why he was going so slowly, you’re sure he’d make up some excuse about finally showing you mercy or letting you have a moment to adjust. You knew the reality though, he needed the moment to collect himself...he always did, you were just too perfect to him. The way your warm, wet walls pulsed around him making him weak to his knees, even if he didn’t admit that to you.

As soon as he regained his composure, however, it was like a switch flipped. Hyunjin wastes no time in picking a fast, rough pace to thrust into you, reminding you once again how sore your ass was after his earlier actions. Hyunjin’s movements do not stutter for a second once he sets his pace, a hand immediately slipping between your legs to rub at your clit, determined to get as many orgasms out of you as he could before his own. 

“Who do you moan like this for? Tell me, little girl, is it Felix?” Hyunjin growls, hand gripping your bound arms to pull you back against his chest so you could see in more detail exactly how he fucked you. The way his cock slipped in and out of you, coated in your slick, and the way his skilled fingers rubbed and pinched at your clit so perfectly. 

“N-No master. I-I may be a slut, but it’s only for you. I-I will only ever moan like this for you.” You immediately answer him how you know he wants you to, feeling yourself drawing close to the edge again and not wanting to risk it being denied. Hyunjin notices with a hum and pinches your clit just right to throw you over the blissful edge, keeping you upright as your thighs tremble, before gently letting you lay your chest down onto the bed again. 

“T-That’s right little girl, you’re my filthy fucking slut. Y-You’ll be good and give me one more won’t you?” Hyunjin words it as a question, but you know that he’s not really asking. His own end is drawing closer, yet he won’t let himself give in to the feeling until he’s rewarded you for taking all that you did earlier. When you nod softly, your head is still foggy from your last high, trying to come down from it. Hyunjin gives a sound of approval in his throat as he leans down to kiss your temple. 

When he feels your pussy clenching around him again, nearing your last orgasm...for now...he almost loses it. Only barely holding himself back his fingers speed up on your clit until you snap again, withering beneath him. Hyunjin finally doesn’t hold back his sounds as he cums deep inside of you, painting you white until it starts to leak out of your spent core.

Hyunjin gently with you as he undoes the ties on you. He could make them disappear just as fast as he made them appear, but they looked so beautiful on your skin that he can’t find it in himself to do that... not for a long time at least. His hands massaged your sore muscles for a few moments before helping you up and to the shower, to let the heat help them further. Willing to let you clean up knowing he left more than a few reminders that wouldn’t simply rinse away in the shower. He treats you delicately as always with aftercare. 

A lightbulb seems to go off over his head as he dries you though, making you furrow your brows, “What is it?”

“Ah, I just forgot something when we rushed back, come on let's go get it. It’ll just take a moment.” Hyunjin takes your hand in his and in the blink of an eye, you’re both back where he’d found you with Felix, not giving you any chance to argue.

Hyunjin intentionally leads you past where he knows Felix will be, making you walk without any help from him knowing that if the obvious marks his mouth left on your neck didn’t give away what had happened between you two, then your walk would. Something that always made him proud after he fucked you. Hyunjin smirks at Felix while they pass before smiling sweetly at you and saying he’ll be a second, leaving you standing there. He’s barely longer than that before he’s back having made up what he needed anyways just to show off to Felix who you belonged to. He comes back and soon takes you home, looking at you innocently while you raise a brow and cross your arms at him.

“So?.... You forgot a spoon?”

[h2bakugou]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hii, new look oo, also first genshin post. i wrote this a while ago, and it’s loosely based off of tangled. i’ll probably keep this look for the genshin posts but mha posts will stay the same!!

at the time of writing, these characters do not have official ages, all characters are written within an aged up (18+) alternate universe.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a little more than determined to spend time with the so called ‘vigilant yaksha’ and he’s a little more than persuaded at the mention of almond tofu.

𝐤𝐞𝐲: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/e) - your element

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

;cut for length;

The air was crisp as you trudged on through to the Wangshu Inn. The once clear blue sky had begun to melt and mix with the purple and pink hues of a sunset. Stars began to hang in the sky, illuminating millions of constellations for you to glance upon on your journey.

You had made plans for the evening. To spend with Xiao. That was if you could drag him down from the Inn to come with you. You had little hope you could actually manage the task ahead of you, but you just had to believe. It wasn’t as if you were asking him to come march into Liyue Harbor with you.

You had other plans. While a calming stroll through the lit-up city of Liyue would be nice with the so-called ‘Vigilant Yaksha,’ all you really wanted to do was spend some alone time with him.

As you step foot onto the lift that would bring you into the treetop that held the Wangshu Inn, you could feel your nerves beginning to grow. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was busy and already had plans to do something? What if-

“Are you just going to stand there and go back down?” Xiao’s voice cut through your intrusive thoughts when you realized you were still standing on the wooden lift, now stopped on the top floor. You quickly darted off, turning to see it begin to lower.

“I was lost in thought. Sorry.” You apologize and smile, forcing your nerves down as you stood in front of him.

“What brings you here?” Xiao asked, beginning to walk around the wooden terrace, over to where he usually gazed out upon the landscape of Liyue.

“I came to see you, actually.” You spoke softly, admiring how Xiao’s features seemed to glow from the sun’s setting rays. His amber eyes gleamed as he turned his head to look at you, taking in your own seemingly glowing appearance in the sunset.

“It’s always something with you.” Xiao commented, looking back over the land. He preferred to be alone, yet there was a little piece of him that did enjoy your company. Although you were persistent and rather eager to spend time with him, he secretly enjoyed your surprisingly quiet presence whenever you bought him Almond Tofu.

“Whaddaya’ say we go take a little boat ride? Just the two of us, the water, and maybe some yummy Almond Tofu?” You’d said the magic words.

“Almond Tofu?” Xiao had been captivated yet again by the mortal dish. He’d say it was your superpower to make a dish so well, but with how many times you’d prepared it for him, he could only say it was just from practice.

“I know you prefer to be alone, but just for a little while? It wouldn’t hurt to dine elsewhere tonight.” You knew he hadn’t eaten yet. He had a set schedule of eating dinner promptly at 7:05 pm. You’d made it on time with about an hour to kill, which would give you plenty of time to get to where you had planned everything out, time to eat, and a few minutes to spare to talk.

“Fine. But only for a little while.” Xiao was staring at you. You were making those puppy-dog eyes that he found hard to resist. You were one of the few mortals Xiao was ‘fond’ of.

“Great! Let’s go!” Your hand darted to his, pulling him along quickly as you rushed over to the lift which had returned up again. Xiao was unfamiliar with the warm feeling of your hand in his, but he swallowed his snide comments and let you be contempt with the sudden gesture. It was his job as a Yaksha to ensure your safety and comfort.

The small journey there didn’t take long, your destination was right near the bottom of the Wangshu Inn. Getting into the wooden boat was a bit tricky, but all was well when you sat down.

Xiao glared at you as you sat in front of him on the wooden boat, asking him nicely to use some anemo power to push the small wooden boat off of the land and into the water.

“Pretty please?” You begged, fluttering your eyelashes. Xiao groaned and in a swift few movements, the boat began to float on the water, moving slowly down the river.

Sitting back down across from you, Xiao took in the sights. A small lantern adorned the bow of the small wooden boat the two of you sat in. The water around you was clear and blue, reflecting the stars that twinkled in the sky above. It was ethereal and beautiful. Xiao couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something so gorgeous.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit tossed around, but it’s still Almond Tofu.” Your rather long journey to Wangshu Inn had proven to be a bit difficult, running into a Ruin Guard had certainly thrown you off the beaten path. You handed Xiao the container that held the meal you cooked up, thankful that it still looked appetizing.

Xiao didn’t hesitate, digging into the delicious meal that you’d made from him. Even when you didn’t have any ulterior motives when you showed up to see him at the Inn, you always brought or made him Almond Tofu, as a thank you for his protection.

It was an unusual bond, the one you shared. Xiao could ignore you, or tell you to go away, and you’d give him a nod, giving him an offering before parting ways. But you always came back, the same familiar bright smile adorning your lips.

Even on the days when Xiao could tell you weren’t okay, you always wore a smile. Because you got to see him. He would never understand, or at least at the moment, would never understand how seeing him brought you so much joy. Perhaps it was beyond him. He didn’t wish to be a burden on someone who seemed so happy, that’s why he distanced himself from you. But it never stopped you from climbing up that big tree right to where he sat on the branches, an eager smile on your lips as you hoisted yourself over the branch.

The sky had finally tuned a deep dark navy blue, lit up by the stars and the rising moon. You had finished your own helping of Almond Tofu and patiently awaited Xiao to finish his. You didn’t say much, only commenting on the beautiful sky as you quietly pointed out stars.

When Xiao finished eating, you stored the containers back into your satchel and glanced over at him. Xiao’s amber eyes met with yours and for a few seconds, he swore he saw your face grow a bit redder. You quickly looked away, worried about making him uncomfortable.

“Now that we’ve eaten, I can head back.” Xiao said curtly, ready to turn the boat around and return to where you’d departed from.

“Wait!” You quickly stood, attempting to stop him which only rocked the boat more, causing you to become unstable and fall over onto him.

Lifting your head, you were met with those cold amber eyes, only ten times closer. Your noses were just about touching as you stared at him. You couldn’t help but ogle at him, your heart beginning to beat faster.

“Are you, um, alright?” Xiao asked bluntly, his words were sharp and unfamiliar to his tongue. You nodded and quickly sat up, regaining your composure on the wooden bench of the boat you had been previously sitting on.

“Sorry! I just uh, can we wait a little longer?” You ask softly, glancing out in the distance. Xiao sighs and returns to his own wooden bench, crossing his arms over his chest.

A few minutes go by of complete silence. It was beginning to feel deafening as you waited. And then, just over the horizon, a singular lantern floated into the air from behind a hill.

Xiao peeked an eye open at your gasp, glancing over to where you were looking. His eyes widened as he began to see dozens, no hundreds of paper lanterns flood the sky, illuminating it with an orange glow.

“I’ve waited years to see this.” You said softly, carefully leaning over to try and get a better look.

Today was a celebration. For some unknown reason to you, thousands of lanterns got released into the night sky, adorning it with a warm glow from the small flames that burned inside them.

You had always heard rumors of the celebration, but every time you came around to ask, you were met with news of having missed it by a few days, or you were simply not there in time to see it.

But tonight, with Xiao, you were witnessing it for the first time, together. As lanterns littered the sky, you were mesmerized by the beautiful sight. A few lanterns drifted toward you, Xiao extending an arm to catch one. He glanced over at you as you reached for one as it touched the water.

Xiao huffed quietly, catching your attention. You glanced and smiled at him as he offered you the lantern in his hands. You took it graciously, your fingers grazing across his as you lifted it back into the air, watching it rejoin the others it had parted from.

“Is this what you wanted to wait on?” Xiao asked, watching as lanterns drifted all around you. You nodded and looked down at your reflection in the water.

“I thought you might like to see them too.” You glance back at Xiao and then at your lap.

“I know you think you’re a burden to those you’re around, but to me, you’re special.” You confess. Xiao is quiet for a while as he admires you. The glow of lanterns that floated on the water lit up your skin, appearing to give you some sort of aura. Xiao’s muddled feelings made him only more confused.

He wasn’t supposed to feel such attraction, let alone to a human like you. Yet, he felt a strange, warm sensation in his veins.

“Special.” Xiao repeated, earning your attention.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better protector. Thank you for always being here for me.” You felt giddy and warm inside, your heart racing as you bit your bottom lip.

“You’re welcome.” It wasn’t the first kind words he’d ever spoken to you, but they were nonetheless surprising. After all these years, living in a blur, Xiao could see perfectly clear, someone who truly enjoyed his presence.

Shining in the starlight, he laid his amber eyes upon you. You were right here, right in front of him. It was all crystal clear now. His thoughts and feelings, although still new and unfamiliar, were brought to the light.

Leaning over, Xiao placed a nervous hand on your waist and pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours.

He balanced on one hand which rested beside you on the wooden bench, his body bent over you as he kissed you. You kissed back, both surprised and contempt. Kissing back, you moved your lips against his, leading him through the kiss with ease. When he pulled away, he stayed frozen over you, staring into your eyes.

“Your lips taste like almonds.” Xiao commented. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well of course they do.” You reach a hand up and twirl a strand of his hair between his fingers. Xiao feels fuzzy as you do so. He’s so used to people being so cold and being cold to them. Being blunt and harsh would usually scare people off, which is exactly what he wanted.

But here you sat, that same goofy smile on your lips, giddy and flustered after just one kiss. Xiao placed one more kiss on your lips, it was short and straight to the point. After he leaned back and glanced back out at the lanterns.

Xiao didn’t want to speak out loud on the topic, but he did think the lanterns were beautiful. It was soothing, mixed with the sound of trickling water from the river, it was a sight to behold, one he was thankful you’d shared with him.

After returning to the shore, you made your way back to the Inn. The two of you walked side by side quietly, your pinky laced with his. When you reached the foot of the large tree which held the Inn, you let go and stood beside Xiao.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, with you.” You spoke quietly to not disturb the peace around the Inn. Xiao glanced at the ground and then to you.

“It would be foolish if you tried to journey back home, you should stay at the Inn for tonight.” Xiao knew you could be stubborn as well. You were planning on traveling toward Liyue Harbor, but that journey alone would take hours.

“Oh, I’ll be alright, I’ll make it at least halfway before I need to stop-”

“You can stay with me. I won’t say it again.” Xiao’s grip on your hand was strong, but gentle. He wasn’t hurting you, but you could tell by the tone of his voice, he seemed concerned for your journey.

“It’s not safe. And I’m not going to save you a second time today.” Xiao’s comment was humorous in intention, but it sounded more like saving people was a chore.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You sigh and begin to head up toward the Inn’s front desk. Xiao followed suit, bringing you up to his own room. It wasn’t anything super lavish, like what people would’ve expected for a Yaksha.

There was a rather large bed and many war-type relics and artifacts littered the room, from swords to pikes you swore you’d seen him use before.

“Sleep. And you better not snore.” Xiao changed quickly behind a room divider and waited until you said you were decent to step out. You both wore simple sleep clothing.

“I thought you didn’t get tired.” You huffed, smiling as you crawled into the bed,  a yawn leaving your lips.

Seeing Xiao in something so plain looked almost criminal. He looked like a normal human. Xiao crawled into the bed and scooted as close to the edge as he could. 

“Just because I don’t tire doesn’t mean I can’t sleep.” Xiao’s tone shifted as he sat down on the edge of the bed, debating on whether to lay down beside you or stay sitting up, eventually he caved and laid beside you, as close to the edge as he could get, leaving you plenty of space to sleep.

But as the night carried on, you inched closer to one another, eventually ending up in his arms, held tightly, it made Xiao feel secure to hold you in his arms. He was safe, you were safe. It made him feel at home. Like he still had a piece of tranquil mortality inside him.

He knew he’d ‘wake’ up tomorrow and play the role of the ‘Vigilant Yaksha’ but for now he’d hold you in his arms as you slept and hope for this to be a glimmer of redemption for a better, more peaceful, kind of karma.

masterlist

[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 | ღ | 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || what seems to be a normal rich summer morning with the women who lives across the honeysuckle boulevard from his cottage lies something else. a buttery rich feeling that spreads deep within Bucky’s heart as he takes his neighbor, alongside Alpine to the farmers market for coffee.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || fluffy fluff! ➳ part one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || retired!bucky barnes × neighbor![black//woc]reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3K ➳ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || if you think long walks with bucky and alpine in the sunny countryside are warnings then so be it but there is lots of food mentioned. ღ also reader owns a flower shop, not a warning thought just some info!

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || this version of cherry wine by hozier ღ this version of mystery of love by sufjan stevens ღ

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || eeeeep!!! so this is my first bucky with alpine fluff and i’m very glad to have it be the first for my fluffy mini series that i’m doing for this month! ღ I don’t describe reader too much throughout the story but what is clear is that I don’t specify on skin tone but yes the person in the moodboard is a woc! ღ anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy reading! ღ

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it was a lavish affair when Bucky found himself tangled with you in the bed of a million perennial petals.

clothing falling and bodies twisting themselves against each other in not lust but emotional apprehension. the soft petals of rose, carnation and violet keep pouring like blissful rain, entangling in his hair and in the crooks of your body.

enough to suffocate but enough to make him feel enveloped in the fantasy- the divination of you you you and only you.

for you are butterscotch benevolence that he will let pool like ambrosial nectar in the cavernous hollows of his collarbones. your tears of seventh heaven euphoria trickling onto his skin forming constellations- like the paint speckles on the forlonged artists canvas of his naked soul.

you are honey sunlight oozing from the basin of the candy floss sky, lacing with the shedding petals that continue to powder in their divine scent and morality. his fine pink sheets soft and silky as the rose petals of Heliogabalus, he’d sigh in heavenly pleasure to be buried alive in petals if she was drunk of the love he has for her.

he sees her playing, singing, dancing and bringing her virtuous spring song deep within the glossy shine of her honey hive eyes. love seeping in the melancholy streams leaking through the old creeky floorboards of his home and straight into the chambers of his heart.

so promising yet so grandeur as he feels his chest warm with her very touch, the ivory bow encased in the virtuous flowers of her emblem garden in his hands- he’d think that he was Cupid but oh how he’s been struck by his own arrow in great surprise. straight into the once extravagant chamber of his heart.

the spiraling golden arrow destined to pierce and rip through the tender muscle of breast to the beating vessel that writes a tragic tale of eternal ravishment in the movements of lyrical beats. muttering with languor-glazed lips, he’d keep her love like a an old locket against his chest for it’s what reminds him of home whenever he feels the cold element on his skin.

there are pieces of you scattered in the wonderous arteries of his heart.

nestled in the folds of the beating muscle, take heed.

for that is his home.

y/n is his perennial feelings left unsaid, exquisite pain yet ethereal serenity. his soft bed of roses and his deadly golden arrow, all meant to give his heart hope.

that he was- however it seems the bed of roses and all the lovely elements it holds have come to a staggering pause.

now as the sun hits the past super soldiers eyelids that dream of flower petals and the heavenly vision of you disappear. they flutter open to meet the single stream of sunlight that has slipped past the slit of the sheer bedroom curtains. brightening up the somewhat clustered space of the room with its single golden string.

Bucky sighs in defeat, this is the fifth dream he’s had of you in a month and he was barely pushing past the second week of May. before he didn’t mind the dreams, they calmed his mind while he layed in slumber during the thunderstorms of April but now they were resilient. it wasn’t no regular thing to dream about the women across the boulevard in the haven of flower fields and maple trees.

Bucky knew this but he couldn’t help but not treat these dreams sweetly. they were the definition of sweet torture, you never hurt him in those dreams as he did to himself but it was a pain to know that you probably don’t think of him the same way. for goodness sake ever since he and Alpine moved the only interactions he had with the maiden were just acknowledgments as they passed each other on their daily errands.

he shouldn't be this infatuated with someone who he's only met.

the soft hum of a purr finally awakens Bucky, his cats paw brushing against the half covered skin of his fleshed bicep. it takes a pat or two to make Bucky open his eyes to find Alpines blue hues staring back at his and he gives his furry friend a crooked smile. a chorus of meows welcoming him to another sunny morning in the peaceful and harmonious countryside.

“morning pal, ya slept well?” Bucky smiles as he lazily lifts his hand to scratch the right spot behind Alpines ear.

stretching out of bed till his feet touch the cool wood flooring, following the simple path from the bedroom to the kitchen he pours Alpine his dish of cream and gets started on his own breakfast. whisking hen eggs his neighbors from afar gifted him the day before and toasting the freshly baked loaves of bread he bought specially from the market yesterday.

Bucky normally didn’t take any gifts from anyone, he wasn’t that type of person to feel comfortable with those sort of things but as the days gone by the cheerfulness of the communities welcoming energy towards him has soften his doubt.

eating his simple breakfast paired with coffee, Bucky bites into his buttery egg toast whilst quickly scribbling down his to-do list for the day. of course there isn’t any tasks that the hundred and ten year old man has to get done but there were things that Bucky did look forward to ever since he settled in a month ago. the country was a lovely peacefulness he had forgotten about ever since he was a boy.

traveling to his grandparents farm away from the city for memorable childhood summers in the sun and fields. turning his head to meet the white linen sheets that draped over the kitchen panels, Bucky can see the herd of brown and black spotted cows from the distance. tapping the pencil against the shiny polish of the kitchen table he bites his lip on what else to add on.

his head lifts up to see through the other window that casts its lovely light against his paper. blue eyes meeting the toffee cobblestone path that led to her cottage, hidden amongst the shrubbery of acorn trees and flower budded bushes. hearing from lots of locals in the cobblestone village near the sparkling sea that she owns a little orchard of peach and cherry trees, a few strawberry patches amongst the vegetation.

it made sense why he sometimes finds a large wooden basket of those ruby fruits at his doorstep from time to time. a card inviting him over for some tea that he would agree to yet he would always call you the next day a stuttering mess canceling it over some important errands. nonetheless it made Bucky's heart swell how understanding you were, sweet just like the ripe fruits you pluck for him on Sundays.

Bucky would make copplers and sometimes pies out of them and if he wasn't so scared of the possibility of being too attracted to you he'd head over to your place so he and him would eat them in your gazebo. but of course he can't do everything his heart implores him to do. was it bad to want to get to know you and imagine what it would be like to befriend you?

maybe do lots more than just befriend you...

sometimes he would find a glimpse of your form in the distance as he headed for the lake neat the lavender fields up north to fish something for dinner. humming while you cared for your flowers, singing to them as you danced along the vintage radio. Bucky could see himself singing and dancing alongside you. caring for your precious tulips, primroses and other beautiful flowers that you sold.

those pretty flowers sweet and divine just as her lips and voice when the two first met, when he arrived in the too expensive car that stood out amongst the scenery. arms occupied with bouquets upon bouquets of trimmed flowers that practically shielded her face, his body ran straight into yours when he got out of his car. flower petals falling with the impact and him apologizing one thing led to another and he helped her with her bouquets all while being stricken when he got a clear look at her.

a clear look at you.

lovely in your sundress that flowed beautifully against your bodies soft planes, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that made him start to stutter. something about you that made his heart bloom in a recherché flower he still can’t understand because he can still hear the velvety tone of your voice speaking your own name when giving each other’s your introduction.

from there on out a glowing ember of clustered stars burned in the pit of his belly when you spoke his name and he spoke yours. it was soft and innocent as the flowers in your arms but the introduction was cut off far too short for Bucky's liking but he promised you a coffee when he was completely settled in. having to do something so he could see you again cause oh how he wishes to hear you speak his name again and again and again till the flowers sprout, bloom and decay with each coming season.

maybe he should pay you a visit and bring up that coffee...

the music from the radio filling the bright cottage kitchen sweetly alongside the birds singing their song outside. Alpine takes his seat across from him, yawning over the new day that brings nothing but lazy laps and baked fish treats. forking a few honey drizzled raspberries in his mouth, Bucky walks to the front door and just in time the daily paper plops down on his feet from the passing paper boy whipping through the grassy roads on the shiny steel of a ringing bicycle.

bending down to retrieve the newspaper, he passes through the sidewalk of petunias and violets till he reaches his mailbox. the wood creaky and the metal rusty but the daisies that sprinted around the opening was a pretty site to see before Bucky grimaced at people from the outside world wanting to invade his privacy. grabbing the letters before smelling the sweet daisies, Bucky looks through the letters one by one. ripping some that had no use for to be used as fire food for his fireplace, grunting that even though he’s away from the tabloids and cameras there are still people eager enough to want something from him.

a soft voice from the distance pulls him out of his annoyance, it makes his eyes lift from his dreaded mail to the women a mile away singing her song as she reaches her mailbox. Bucky can’t help but look at her from afar; and maybe Alpine knows this to as he watch his lovesick owner admire the maiden from the kitchen windowsill.

with some obscene fortune he notices you checking your mailbox as well. heart pacing in his chest, he wishes he didn’t go outside before showering and at least brushing his hair for your waving to him from the distance.

“hello hello Bucky!” your sweet voice exclaims and it just adds onto the heaven that is the morning it makes his cheek hurt from how much he’s smiling.

“hello hello to you y/n. how is the shop coming along?” Bucky shouts and his heart sinks when you wave him over to you.

despite his mind telling him to not pursue closer his heart makes him walk his way to you standing next to your Valentine shaped mailbox. his worries slipping away when there's a underlying comfort in your posture and aura, alluring like the bees are to the flowers. welcoming and warm and he can't help but feel that way every time he's near you.

speaking of you, its reassuring to also know he wasn't the only one to wear pajama's out since your still in your blue silk nightgown. matching silk slippers adorning your feet, you sip from your tea cup as you read what he believes to be a Cosmopolitan.

“it’s coming along great, thank you! a bit slow the first week but that’s how any business starts but I just received my tenth loyal customer and i’m more than certain i’ll be selling lots of flowers today.” you spoke as you smiled to yourself then up at him.

checking your mail, Bucky’s surprised that you have quite a handful of letters and boxes. all written in lovely cursive and packaged nicely, almost like love letters and gifts. it makes Bucky’s heat sink, knowing that he might not be the only one who’s fallen head over heels for you. by all means you probably have the whole village under a spell with just the way you smile alone but he wants to see that smile the most.

he wants to be the reason for that smile.

“that’s sounds wonderful y/n, maybe I could stop by and pick a pretty bouquet or two," you only smile wider upon those words and much to his excitement you even brush your hand against his.

"oh really? have a special someone in your life who needs some loving?" you perk as you open an envelop but the question makes Bucky's throat dry on how he should answer.

you seem like the type of maiden who loves an honest man- yes, he should be honest.

"well... there is this one special lady." Bucky lingers and that makes you snap your attention away from the letters in your hands. voice dying in your throat at those words and heart beat hitting pause.

"I always thought Alpine was gonna be the only one to get to my soft spot- we sleep in the same bed together," he stops to laugh a bit, rubbing the back of neck with his metal arm and you laugh along with him.

"how is Alpine? i'm noticing he's getting into a routine with sleeping in my chamomile beds in the afternoon," you smile and bring your tiny tea cup to your lips. "would you care for a cup Bucky? this just so happens to be chamomile,"

"Alpine is doing good and thank you for bringing that up I was beginning to wonder where that rascal has been leaving for. will have an important talk to him once I get home and- I was going to ask you something," Bucky speaks while admiring how your thick lashes curtain your honey hive hues as you sip the steaming golden liquid.

no one should look that beautiful just drinking tea yet here he is, breathless on the simple action. if he truly wanted a cup he'd wish to drink from your tiny cup, to press his lips upon the porcelain rim where yours once brushed against. drink the sweet sunshine to experience the closest thing to your honey kiss...

"don't worry it's alright! I love looking over at him when I have tea at the back patio, he's quite a lovely guest. very well mannered, and yes Bucky is there anything I can help you with?" you cannot deny that your heart is practically skipping beats in your chest, fast and lively like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, for someone who has done the simple thing of asking someone out for couple hundreds of times a hundred years ago from now it’s a disappointment that he’s lost his touch. however you don’t seem to notice or care but that doesn't mean he should give up. not when you're right here glowing in your morning dew radiance, anticipating the next words to slip past those lips.

it's now or never.

"h-how do you feel about that coffee I promised? today? I have a few errands to run in town and I was wondering if you would accompany me- on my errands... if that doesn't bother you,” Bucky rambles to a stop and he's thankful you're still smiling that closed lip grin against the porcelain of the cup.

"yes Bucky I would love that! there's a coffee cart near the shop I work at but what about your lady? she wouldn't mind us going out for coffee, would she?" you speak as you gather your letters in your arms. glancing up at Bucky to receive some conformation and Bucky bites his lips.

"I don't think she'll mind. in fact... I think she would love me to go out once in a while. I have a habit of only going out when necessary, coffee with you wouldn't hurt,"

"that's perfect, i'll see you at twelve then Bucky. you can help me open shop to," you smiled and Bucky returned an even warmer one back.

filling your heart with a rush of liason, like a tea cup filling with tea. something meant to be full and warm, embraced with someone's touch and lips as they drank each fluttering honey glazed sensation they have for one other.

something that seems to be happening right now before they break their strong eye contact, wiry- crooked smiles still embellishing their sun-freckled faces.

you wish you could kisses each one off his clean shaven cheeks right now, slightly rosy but oh how it would feel like peach skin against your lips.

Bucky wishes to kiss yours, the shine of your lips the form of heart shaped clouds and he just can't seem to get his head out of the amorous blue you cast him into.

"i'll be seeing you in an hour Bucky," you draw before walking away with a cheeky wink, your eyes still locking with his before you get to the rosy sunflower porch.

"and i'll be waiting for you doll,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading part one! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this join my taglist to be notified of my future works! ♡♡♡

𝐫𝐨��𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || @cloudystevie ღ @steebsbabygirl ღ @honeychicana ღ @afriendlyblackhottie ღ @chrissquares ღ @denisemarieangelina ღ @hevans-angel ღ @drewsbuzz​ ღ @assoftheamericana ღ @gracechristo ღ @little-baby-vixen ღ @sohoseb ღ @quxxnxfhxll ღ @peachesofcolour ღ @abschaffer1 ღ @sea040561 ღ @afriicanhoe ღ ღ ღ

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || @burninmatches ღ @lovesguiltypleasuress ღღღ

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

[bluefuckboy]

Bad Blood

Vampire dabihawks (ft. trans Hawks)

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble. Oops. Originally inspired by @birf’s vampire dabihawks. Header belongs to birf as well give them all your love. Check out the Post Script for additional info on the story background.

CW: blood, trans character (ftm), gender and body dysphoria, slight non con elements initially but consent later, oral sex, gore, mostly blood and possible triggers for trans readers.

Additional Note: Written from perspective of trans character, so if terms need clarified just ask. Message me if you want to know specific things if you might be triggered by them. I am more than happy to make sure the read is enjoyable and not triggering.

WC: 2400

Hawks doesn’t know how it happened. He’s not even alive anymore so how would he even be able to perform a bodily function that is solely for the living. That and he’s not had one for years, decades now since being turned. It’s as much of a shock as it is a mystery to him when he sees the little droplets of red on his boxers.

At first he thinks he must have just gotten sloppy during a feeding, but it soon becomes clear that the blood is coming from him. He tries to come up with some sort of explanation for it as he sits there staring at the bit of red tinged almost mucus like substance spread between his fingers. It’s so hard to believe that it doesn’t even fully hit him until he’s trying to find a pad or a tampon in the cabinets of the dark house.

He slumps down against the wall of the master bathroom. The contents of the cabinets are strewn about, a futile search which he assumed would be the case. He just didn’t want to think about it fully as he rooted through the contents of the cabinet. But now he’s hyper aware of the sensations he’s not had in years. That sickening feeling of something wet being forced out of his body, the dull pain in his abdomen, the oncoming headache. He puts his head in his hands, not noticing the presence of another person in the room until the familiar sound of Dabi’s voice breaks the silence.

“Find what you were looking for?”

Hawks brings his face up. Dabi is leaning against the doorframe, dressed in loungewear which Hawks will never be able to fully get over. The centuries old vampire wearing sweats and a shirt that says ‘bite me’ with a cartoon mouth with fangs. Dabi’s long fingers tap against his arm as he looks down at Hawks.

“Uh,” Hawks realizes he’d been crying and quickly wipes away the tears, “No. I’m good. I… uh…”

He knows he must be bright red, embarrassed by this whole situation. It doesn’t help that his emotions feel like they’re all trying to get out at once. Stupid fucking hormones or whatever the fuck this is. He wants to disappear. Just fade into one of the dark corners of the house, never to be seen again.

“Keigo,” Dabi’s gravely voice is closer now and Hawks opens his eyes to see the other vampire’s face inches from his.

Hawks looks away. “S-sorry. I’ll get out of your room. I uh-”

He’s silenced by a cold finger to his lips while Dabi blinks slowly at him. He keeps the finger at his lips as his eyes drift down over Hawks body. When they land at Hawks’ hips the pupils dilate slightly and Hawks bites back more tears. Of course Dabi knows. How could he not? It’s fuckin blood and Dabi was the one turned him.

Dabi knows the sound of Hawks breath, the beat of his heart, the pounding of blood in his veins. He savored it all as he drained the life out of Hawks so many years ago. When he decided to turn Hawks, everything of Hawks became privy to him, even the parts of himself Hawks hated. So it was no surprise that Dabi knew.

Hawks swallows. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how...”

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to apologize, but it feels like he’s done something wrong. More fat tears spill down his cheeks as he looks at the floor, unable to make eye contact with the ethereal blue of Dabi’s eyes. He jumps as Dabi’s arms suddenly wind around him. Dabi lifts him with ease and Hawks tries not to be too awkward in his arms as the elder vampire carries him to the large bed in the middle of the room. He deposits Hawks there on the satin sheets and Hawks feels instantly out of place.

He curls into himself, holding his ankles as he still refuses to meet Dabi’s eyes. He’s been in Dabi’s chambers before, but never privileged enough to be sat upon the luxurious bed he knows has held countless lovers, flings, feedings. Whatever Dabi decides to do in his spare time has never been any of Hawks’ businesses. Until now that is.

Dabi is hovering above the bed, looking down at Hawks in a way he hasn’t since the day he sunk those fangs into his neck. The expression makes the back of Hawks’ neck hot and he finds himself automatically bringing a hand up to shield the area. There’s nothing to protect, however. He can feel the gouges from Dabi’s fangs still there in his skin.

Dabi sits down on the bed and Hawks feels one of his hands come to rest on his knee. “Are you going to hide? Or let me take care of you?”

Hawks blinks, finally looking at Dabi, feeling his stomach drop at the expression on his face. Dabi’s pupils are wide and he looks hungry.

Hawks backs away. “I.. It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. I don’t wanna bother you.”

Dabi tsks his tongue and Hawks is suddenly on his back with Dabi between his legs, looking at him through those hypnotizing eyes. “It’s not a bother.”

Dabi’s low growl has shivers going down Hawks’ spine and he lets Dabi’s long fingers strip him of his pants and boxers. When he feels the rush of air against his cunt Hawks puts a hand down, trying to cover himself, but it’s stopped by Dabi.

“I said I’d take care of you.”

Dabi’s tone is a tad dangerous. A warning. Hawks reluctantly pulls his hand away, covering his face instead as he gives Dabi a full view of himself. There’s a bit of red tinged slick stuck to the outside of his inner lips. His fat, compact cock peeks out from under messy blonde pubes. It’s pronounced than usual, and more sensitive he finds as he suddenly feels something hot and wet lave over it.

“D-dahhh ahhh! Fuck.”

Dabi’s tongue has Hawks’ twitching from just merely running it under his cock. Hawks bites his lip, cheeks red as he lets Dabi explore more of him. Dabi’s tongue traces through Hawks’ folds and briefly dips into him. The sensation puts a sour feeling in the pit of Hawks’ stomach and Dabi must notice the change in Hawks’ body language as he pulls back ever so slightly.

Dabi adjusts, moving his mouth back to Hawks’ dick. He nudges his tongue at the top, then lightly over the head before sucking. Hawks goes rigid. It feels like electricity is shooting down his spine. He’s had people give him oral before, but never in the way he wanted. This, having Dabi’s soft lips wrapped around his cock, this has him panting and shaking, nearly cumming.

He puts a shaky hand out, testing whether or not he’s allowed to touch Dabi. His fingers slide through the soft white tresses and Dabi makes a small noise that Hawks’ takes to be permission. He’s always wondered whether Dabi’s hair was as soft as it looked. It feels almost as soft as the sheets beneath them, steadily becoming wet as Dabi sucks off Hawks expertly.

Hawks fists his hand in Dabi’s hair as he feels Dabi’s teeth bump against the head of his cock. His legs shake and he tries to warn Dabi, but cums before he can say anything. He pulls on Dabi’s hair as he does, holding on as he rides out an orgasm that has his body betraying him as he feels slick starting to drip down between his asscheeks.

“Sh-shit. I’m s-sorr.. Fuck!”

He arches off the bed as Dabi starts to suck up the slick dripping out of Hawks. He doesn’t move his tongue anywhere aside from the occasional flick against Hawks’ cock. The sensations of Dabi’s lips against him don’t have Hawks spiraling into a dysphoric episode. It’s rather the opposite as Dabi tests his fangs against the inside of Hawks’ thigh.

Every press of Dabi’s lips against his skin has more arousal building up in the pit of Hawks’ stomach. He doesn’t even care that he can feel slick and assumed menstrual blood seeping out of him because Dabi’s mouth is heavenly. Even the sharp sting from his fangs as they sink into the meaty flesh of Hawk’s thigh has ripples of pleasure shooting through him.

“Dabi.. Ahhh hah..”

Hawks can’t help but squirm a bit as Dabi’s teeth pull out of him. Dabi puts a hand on his stomach, pressing down to still him and Hawks whimpers when Dabi’s tongue laves over the twin punctures.

Dabi’s voice rumbles from between his legs, “Can I pleasure you here?”

Hawks feels Dabi’s tongue dip into him and his body tenses. He can’t deny that it does feel good, but that anxious feeling curls in his stomach and he closes his legs around Dabi’s head.

Dabi speaks again, “Let me change my phrasing.”

His eyes meet Hawks’ and his expression is intense. There’s a bit of red on his chin and Hawks can see the points of his canines from under his top lips. They’re bared and the sight sends heat down Hawks’ shoulders. Dabi licks his lips once before asking agin.

“I want your consent to feed.”

Hawks‘ stomach drops. “F-feed?”

Dabi doesn’t reply, just watches Hawks with dark eyes. Hawks doesn’t need clarification on what Dabi means. Dabi’s mouth rests right at Hawks’ entrance, he can feel the heat from his breath. Hawks bites his lip as it trembles a bit, but then he closes his eyes and nods.

He keeps his eyes shut tight as he hears Dabi make a soft noise. It almost sounds like a fucking purr as he presses his face into Hawks’ sopping folds. Dabi’s tongue moves to press inside of him and every muscle in Hawks’ body tenses.

He fights through the negative emotions that instantly come to the surface, trying to tell himself it’s different from that. Sure Dabi is eating him out, but he’s also feeding, which is entirely different. Hawks keeps that thought at the forefront of his mind as Dabi’s tongue curls inside of him.

Hawks’ hands fist in the sheets and his hips cant upward subconsciously. Dabi’s hands smooth over Hawks’ inner thighs. He puts pressure above the bite he gave Hawks earlier and Hawks feels the hint of pain, savoring it a bit as he tries to ignore the automatic reactions of his body.

Dabi’s tongue inside of him has him steadily getting wetter and more aroused. He can feel his muscles twitch and tighten as Dabi works his way deeper into him. Dabi’s teeth press against Hawks’ engorged lips as he tries to force his tongue in as far as he can.

He brushes the wet muscle against a spot that Hawks hasn’t touched in years and it has a whimper coming from Hawks as his hips jerk. Dabi’s hands tighten around his legs and he pulls Hawks closer to him, starting what Hawks can only think to describe as an assault on his pussy.

Dabi’s teeth clip at his inner lips as he sucks. His tongue writhes inside of Hawks and Hawks feels more pleasure starting to coil up. He puts both his hands in Dabi’s hair, trying not to pull, but also holding on as Dabi scoots him up further on the bed, his nose bumping the underside of Hawks’ cock.

Hawks makes a little noise that Dabi clearly picks up on as he angles his head to put pressure on Hawks’ cock. Inside of him, Dabi’s tongue curls, somehow reaching deep enough to press against that spot that has Hawks’ trembling. The slight drag of Dabi’s canines over his overstimulated hole has Hawks cumming again, holding onto Dabi‘s hair with a vice grip.

As Dabi pulls away, Hawks dares to glance at him as he comes down from his second orgasm. Dabi looks insane. Parts of his white hair stick out in places where Hawks has mussed it. His eyes are heavy lidded, the brilliant blue just a hint around his blown pupils. There’s blood and slick smeared over his face. He looks crazed, like a feral animal.

Hawks’ breath hitches as Dabi looks at him. His eyes are slightly unfocused, but they stay on Hawks’ face as Dabi moves a hand to hook under one of Hawks’ knees. He raises his leg, putting it over his shoulder as he presses his face to the unmarred skin of Hawks’ other thigh.

Hawks shivers as Dabi runs his tongue over the flesh. He noses his way into the dip of Hawks’ pelvis and Hawks shivers. There’s wet saliva dripping on his skin as Dabi opens his mouth and then there’s a searing pain that has Hawks crying out.

“Fuck! AH! Shit..”

Tears come to his eyes as he feels the full strength of Dabi’s jaw, nearly breaking into the bone of Hawks’ femur. The pain is intense and warm liquid starts to pool under Hawks as Dabi pulls back for a moment before latching onto the gouges he’s made.

He sucks with fervor and Hawks’ head falls back on the bed. His vision swims and there’s a dull ache throughout his body. Dabi’s teeth pierce his skin again, widening the holes. Salacious, wet noises echo through the bedroom as Dabi greedily swallows the blood pouring out of the artery he’s opened in Hawks’ thigh. There’s a ringing that starts in Hawks’ ears, but then Dabi’s voice is there.

“You’re hemorrhaging.”

“Hmmm?” Hawks slurs, his body heavy.

There’s silence for a moment and then one of Dabi’s hands comes to cup Hawks side, a grounding, if not possessive touch as Hawks feels the pads of Dabi’s fingers dig into his skin.

Dabi’s voice fades in and out slightly. “I’ll take care of it.” His lips press against Hawks’ stomach, leaving a bloody kiss, “Bad blood is all it was.”

He moves his lips up Hawks’ limp body, trailing red smeared marks until he reaches Hawks’ neck. Hawks’ head lolls to the side, waiting for Dabi to open the old bite marks there. Instead he feels the soft press of Dabi’s lips against his.

His mind is so foggy he half convinces himself he’s hallucinating. But he can taste the tang of iron on Dabi’s tongue as it sweeps along his bottom lip. Dabi’s lips brush against his as he whispers something too soft to hear. It’s somehow soothing, allowing Hawks’ to let go of the negative tension and anxiety and go pliant in Dabi’s arms. It’s only bliss as Dabi kisses him again.

“Just bad blood. That’s all.”

.

Post Script: my idea of vampires involves them not necessarily having “blood” anymore aside from what they intake. They’re dead essentially so no blood is being cycled through their own bodies. Dabi broke the femoral artery in Hawks’ thigh which is the main blood vessel to the lower body. So Hawks is bleeding out or just expelling the current blood he has. I like to think vampires don’t need to eat as often so when they do it’s kinda like snakes where they go a long time between meals. I do also have a sorta explanation as to how Hawks could have had a “period” despite being dead which would negate the need for HRT since his own body isn’t producing any hormones, estrogen or testosterone.

PPS: If people are interested I can expand or continue this. I just have in depth ideas that include boring medical stuff. Anyway. Hope you enjoyed.

[elleonmybeloved]

Lumine sits at the base of the anemo archon statue, leaning her weight heavily on the cool stone. Two crunchy Mondstadt hash browns and a sunsettia lie on the ground beside her atop a small cloth, but she’s in no state to bring herself to eat just yet.

The flow of healing magic is slow, but dependable, and she knows from experience she won’t have to stay for more than an hour before it heals the wounds on her body. The electro cicin mage had stopped just shy of killing her: She can’t quite see, her fingers involuntarily twitch every few seconds, and there’s a shooting pain that travels from her hip down her left leg. There might be a couple burns here and there too, but her whole body hurts and her vision isn’t healed enough to see them clearly in the steadily dimming light of dusk.

Paimon is absent. Lumine had sent her away. She needed time to think, alone.

Why had the mage spared her? She could think of no shared love between her and the Fatui. Maybe she was imagining it but recently in her encounters with abyss mages, they quickly turned tail and ran away. Ever since... Signora had stolen Venti’s gnosis.

Unable to find a reason for the change, she searched her memories, for what must be the hundredth time.

She and Aether had always traveled from world to world looking for... looking for... something important. Teyvat was dangerous. It didn’t have what they were looking for, so they were leaving. They were passing the... the only beautiful realm, with the clouds, and an unknown god had stepped out of a void of blackness and attacked them with sinister cubes of something that resembled the void the goddess had stepped out of.

Lumine remembers noticing her gaze shift to her and had instively dodged back. Aether had been taken by surprise and engulfed in the cubes. And she’d attacked the goddess with such a ferocity it made a huge explosion, that was engulfed in cubes that surged up her arm. She had used her power to resist as much as she could but it wasn’t enough and she was surrounded by the void as well.

It had taken her a long time to escape. She wasn’t even sure when she’d managed it, because she had used so much power to resist that she had fallen unconscious somewhere along the way. She had awoken powerless, wingless, and alone in a Teyvat that looked nothing like when they first arrived. Of course her first thought had been to search for Aether. But she hadn’t found anything in the area other than slimes, and bipedal beasts that had attacked her on sight.

Paimon says she found her while fishing. Lumine thinks that’s right. Like the monsters, slimes, and ...ghostly cliones, Paimon was the closest thing she had yet to find resembling humanity in the Teyvat she had awoken to. But Paimon is wasn’t human, of course.

And now, she has scoured the face of Mondstadt and Liyue, leaving no cave unexplored, no villager unquestioned, no chest unopened, but somehow there isn’t a single shred of evidence that leads to Aether. She would feel it if he was dead, she’s almost certain. So why hadn’t a soul seen him? Lumine has headaches from the constant use of her elemental sight, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gold she desperately wishes to see again.

Well enough to sit up now, Lumine lifts her meal off the ground and chews monotonously through it.

There’s always been this melody, in the recess of her mind. She’s been trying to remember it, hoping for a clue to break through the amnesia, but only gets snippets at a time, and can’t remember any of the words. Lumine is always quick to sing it when she is alone, unwilling to let it fade from her memory.

In light of finding no answers, maybe working on this will give her enough sense of a victory to hold the encroaching despair at bay. Her fingers are sticky with sunsettia juice as she wipes them on her cloth, and she clears her throat to sing.

The melody is slow in coming, and there are still no words, so she replaces them with an ooh, opening up the sound into an aah when it feels right.

Getting stuck in a few places doesn’t discourage her, and she just starts the part again when it happens. To her surprise, she pushes through into a new part, where the melody swells high and it’s beautiful and eerie, and unmistakably sad. But Lumine is filled with euphoria at the breakthrough and sings louder for once, getting carried away.

Another voice harmonizes with hers in a beautiful duet. Her startled voice falters a little, but she continues, unwilling to squander her newly gained ground against her lost memories. The voice is male, and for a moment her heart does a painful squeeze as hope that it’s Aether soars in her chest. But the hope lasts only for a few seconds, as she listens and hears that the voice is not his. The experience distracts her, and she loses the next part of the song, voice withering out.

Lumine looks around her for the source of the other voice, but the sun has fully set now and despite her restored vision, she can’t see anyone.

“I’m up here.” He calls, and Venti jumps- floats- down from his perch high in the branches of the Symbol of Mondstadts Hero, landing lighter than a feather.

“You? How do you know that song?” She questions in an urgent demand. In the moonlight he looks ethereal, unhuman.

“I was here before you arrived.” He responds defensively in reaction to her tone, but keeps his expression open and inviting as always. “I know I’ve told you I know every song, past, present, or future.”

“I’ve never sang that part before, it’s new even to me.” She refutes. The air is growing tenser.

“... Your voice carries on the wind.” He admits reluctantly. “So I already knew the other parts. It was easy to improvise the new one. Comes naturally to me.” Venti shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“But I’ve never...” She trails off before saying ‘sang here before’, realizing with great embarrassment that the wind flows everywhere in Mondstadt and there have been several nights she has left Paimon behind to raise her voice in lament to the moon with this melody. “I didn’t realize. You must be accustomed to a lot of noise then.”

“Most of the time I tune it out if it’s not a song.” He admits. “I like to compete with the other bards in the city.”

It sounds to Lumine like an excuse to deflect her attention away from the fact that he has been listening to her voice on the wind with some degree of intentionality.

“Forgive me.” Venti says, “I didn’t want you to have to sing it alone again.”

Lumine’s embarrassed indignation dissipates as she hears what he didn’t say. That she always sounds lonely.

“It’s okay. You’re right. Singing it alone is... it felt better with you.”

Venti surprises her by stepping in close and squeezing her in a hug, just a little too fiercely to be gentle. The way he feels pressed so close against her is like a balm for the ache in her chest and she hugs him back with an almost greedy haste. They are almost the same height, so when he leans back, not breaking the embrace, they are face to face.

He reads the expression there and asks. “What about Paimon? I thought she never leaves your side.”

“I don’t trust Paimon.” It’s the first time she had ever said it aloud, and it feels weird. She doesn’t even know what Paimon is, but for some reason she never thinks of this.

“But you trust me?” He doesn’t say even though he is an archon, but she knows he implies it.

She thinks of how vehemently he fought for Dvalin’s freedom, and what he sacrificed to get his precious friend back. She understands that more than anything. He kept her from plummeting to her death during the storm, and gave her the closest thing to her wings back.

“Yes. I know I don’t want to see...” The sharp gurgled sound of pain he’d made when Signora snatched out his gnosis from within him resonates with the loud crack of the woman’s hand across his face when she had slapped him in her mind. “... Don’t want to see you go through what I did.”

“I’m not powerless. And giving up my gnosis was worth nobody getting hurt.” His blue eyes glow in the night and he presses his cheek to hers with an affectionate nuzzle. “Especially you.”

Lumine processes that for a moment. It’s been so long since she felt so...

Loved.

[sugar-petals]

When I look at yuzuru he strikes me as a really soft cutesy charming etheral individual not really homme fatal kind of guy that's why I think he's pure romantic rather than TR what do u think? ( love you btw)

i’ve been thinking about it as well, but it’s not a crystal clear case. he’s a sportsman, skating morphs the body in the most uncommon ways which makes it harder to narrow down the type. 

basics first so we get the foundations right: pinpointing the kibbe category he is + isn’t and why, the subtype after.

1. which one of the big 5?

- safe to say, yes: he’s somewhere in the romantic category. nobody does these outfits quite like yuzu. light fabrics, intricate embellishments, he is famous for all that gorgeous princely tailoring. the sport is all about the sequins, he definitely shines in them. every professional figure skating photographer out there will tell you that he hits different and you can see why.

WOW.

i’ve witnessed people complaining that the glitz and glam no longer suits his age, he gets scorn for not dressing traditionally masculine, but i don’t know how it wouldn’t look appropriate. the only valid criticism is that it’s often a hit or miss, but we’d be damned if this isn’t what an ice prince looks like.

he’s the best in the world and his main goal is to put on a show. rolling up in a polo shirt would contradict the objective, being an allround artist first and only then a jump technician. he’s exactly how you’d expect a yuzuru hanyu to look like. if you appear ‘like yourself’, it’s the right kibbe category.

R clothing typically has a sexy edge as well, you can’t put a kid into that. cut out cleavage, transparent, figure-hugging, no way. if anything, most R styles seemed all over the place when yuzu was younger (this is from 2010). yin is meant to be tailored for adults to begin with, you can’t make it teenage gamine.

eleven years later at 26, yuzuru hanyu in 2021, adult man, wearing the hell out of a skating gala outfit. this would be tacky on someone any younger. R is not just light and sweet but also dignified and mature. long story short. he’s grown into a yin-dominant type. fits to a T, a feast for the eye.

- meanwhile: you can easily exclude dramatic. very thick, stable fabrics with large lines are gigantic on him. D clothing is a yuzu charm killer, figures because it’s the type opposite to romantic (pure yang). it washes out the face and is twice as wide as his frame is, bulks out around the shoulders.

- not a natural type either, it feels a bit too simple, underchallenging. ruffled hair appears dishevelled where it’d be just right on a natural. it doesn’t fully highlight him: natural looks aren’t the most memorable on yuzuru even if they tend to be rather neutral and don’t look too off per se, it has a bit of draping after all. 

he looks really good in the below outfit, but his frame doesn’t fill it out. he’s all elegant underneath and radiates ballet while N is a rough, easy-going, and leisurely concept for very bulky frames. the waist gets missing in translation, the mid-section of shirts like these is too wide.

- not a gamine either. he might appear like one and i deliberated back and forth whether he is Pure G or FG, but the material mix, line breaks, and fashion experiments are creating chaos rather than something put-together. it just isn’t as flattering as when he does drapes and florals. the hair being cropped (typical gamine cut) often obfuscates the face. G styles are confusing on yuzu.

his skating is from outer space but this is probably a bit too galactical 😅

- not a classic. something’s not right, suits like these contrast a lot with how round his face is and sit on his body very randomly. missing waist again (yin). the same people who want him to dress more conservatively/masculine have been roasting yuzu for looking like a salary man in that style 🤔 i sense hypocrisy. in any case, classic underwhelms, he’s made to dress up. more points to yin, he he’s too petite to wear C.

now, we got the main category down, time for subtyping. romantic has two options.

2. which romantic?

arguments in favor of Theatrical Romantic:

this type is what he often portrays in the rink (e.g. the phantom of the opera programme) and has become his secret weapon. whether that speaks of his true type is the question. what i mean is, he can pull it off, the seductive homme fatale. compare jimin, people lose their minds over theatrical romantic men. yuzu is in that lane as well.

as in, balance of main yin with a yang undercurrent — the very gentle, princely young man with the soft face who gathers everyone’s hearts, and he is a damn flirt on ice, but who can give a very visceral, dark performance. that shows a tremendous fervor and an edge, with an athletic and taut body.

he does have some yang elements to his physicality. streamlined silhouette, some narrowness, extreme flat muscle, long triangular upper body, some vertical line. also — his color palette (aka skin undertone, cool v warm, hue, chroma, deepness etc) might match TR. on the other hand, it might simply be the black hair giving him the contrast for it. 

the reason why we might get the TR impression is that he often wears all black which suggests dramatic, and the athleticism in his profession has trained away the chubbiness he might naturally have. the face as the only part that won’t be somehow affected by his routine is all yin. 

arguments in favor of pure Romantic:

... as you pointed out. in private life and backstage, he is quite effortlessly sweet- and small-looking. with the delicacy and doe-eyedness you’d expect from pure romantic, very unlike his performance persona. 

if you didn’t know he’s copyrighted BDE on the ice, yuzu seems like he can’t harm a fly, round rosy bean he is. he makes a very innocent and soft 1st impression in candids which no other type except soft gamine does.

facial features, all opposite of yang. not long, not sharp, not planar, not angular, not bony, not narrow. the button nose, full lips, and puffy cheeks is all you see. you’d not think of him as striking (=D, FN).

that’s also why he’s always pitted as nathan chen’s opposite in whatever he does. nate is on the other end of the kibbe spectrum, people probably don’t even realize that their physical lines are contrasting archetypes. it’s subconsciously part of why people can construct such a rivalry. 

study nathan’s face and it becomes apparent. very oblong shape, flat-laying flesh and an asymmetric jaw that couldn’t be any more prominent (=yang). the brows and eyes create a powerful horizontal unlike yuzu’s more wide-set puppy eyes. the nose is longer, the ears, too. nathan looks sharp, piercing, and intimidating rather than soft. you see the exact outline of the bone.

with him, you assume the reverse of what people think of yuzu at first glance. if you didn’t know that nathan couldn’t be any nerdier, you’d believe he’s 1000% jock-off-the-charts. how he has a lot of yang contributed to his on-ice image, too. one’s kibbe type can shape life choices since people see you in a certain way simply based on your lines.

how yuzu is such a visual difference to nathan further points to how he’s closer to pure yin: rather than a subtype that picks up elements from dramatic. otherwise, you’d see some of that angularity. but no: roundness over structure, you see the flesh, not frame. you couldn’t call him a jock by all means 😆 

you won’t see that chiseled geometry and crazy jawline/browline. as you say he’s more cutesy, and a charmer, the whole fandom will agree. pure romantics have everyone wrapped around their fingers (and their booty lmao!) because you want to pepper them with kisses, yin types all look so non-threatening and beautiful. ethereal is the right word. 

and they’re the sexiest ofc, since they’re curvy. R got hips.

sigh... this type is a showstopper. what to do with him. he can beam at ya or he can sway his hips at ya, another unsuspecting hanyu interessee falls for the guy. he does the prince concept and the sexy cutie alike.

he tries to convince us otherwise 😂

sexy aside, he looks great in the respective clothing recs, with waist emphasis and rounded edges. kimonos are often soft dramatic or natural-inspired, but it works out well this way. and again: romantic is not childish/playful clothing of some kind, it can be very official and deliberate.

rather than in edge tailoring which is very loose around his arms and does yuzu no justice. that’s actually the kind of clothing that makes him appear either younger or older depending on if it’s D or C.

TLDR - he might not seem completely yin in his appearance, but that’s because of his excessive sports regimen. since yuzu has been training since he was a kid, we never saw how he’d normally be. he rocks the pure romantic regardless and it’s likely it’s his kibbe type. him wearing R is always a spectacle.

bonus kibbe meme: yuzu, photoshopped to the moon and back, wearing soft dramatic for a toothpaste ad. amazing.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

When Amazon's version of Good Omens was first unleashed on the masses, a Christian group in America asked thousands of followers to petition Netflix and ask them to cancel the show. Netflix, not Amazon...

Clearly, Return to Order made a mistake of biblical proportions, and we're not just talking about the target of their wrath either.

Listed among their many objections was the show's portrayal of the first humans and the fact that God is voiced by a woman. Funnily enough though, one of the biggest mistakes the group make in this long list of ridiculous statements is their claim that the "angel and demon are good friends".

If the friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley upset them this much, just imagine what they'd think if they realised Good Omens is actually a "love story", as defined by Neil Gaiman himself.

Fans have been shipping the "Ineffable Husbands" ever since Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's book was first published back in 1990. Throughout its six-episode runtime, the show expands on this even further through the chemistry shared by its two leads, Michael Sheen and David Tennant.

Tender moments such as when Aziraphale covers Crowley with one of his wings have led to copious amounts of fan fiction which portray them both as a couple. Sister Mary and even a random passerby make similar assumptions about them at various points on the show. However, attempts to label their relationship as canonically queer are more difficult than they might initially seem.

When asked directly if Crowley and Aziraphale are in a gay relationship together, Gaiman told a fan online that, "They're an angel and a demon, not male humans."

At first, that might seem like a cop-out. After all, the pair are depicted as male, even if they're not in the human sense, and queer baiting is a real issue. Certain scenes in Good Omens certainly read as flirty, and far too often, the LGBTQ+ community are forced to read between the lines or label characters themselves in the absence of overt and meaningful representation.

During a recent interview, we asked Gaiman if he'd considered making this "love story" explicit or more concrete on screen to rectify that. Surely, this would have been the perfect opportunity to canonise these elements of the original text while updating it for modern times?

Gaiman said no, not really, referring back to a line in the book which says, "Angels are sexless unless they specifically make an effort."

He went on to say, "I like the idea that we know Crowley and Aziraphale don't really... these are two ethereal and occult beings who aren't really quite clear on what mammals are about, even. I don't really think that they've sussed complicated human things like gender."

On the one hand, it's easy to see why some fans have interpreted comments like this as an excuse designed to deflect criticism and avoid featuring actual queer characters in the text. However, this particular situation is actually more complicated.

In recent years, a surprising number of authors and screenwriters have declared that their characters are canonically queer, even when there's no mention of it in the original text. JK Rowling is a key offender here, regularly announcing that her books are more diverse than they actually are in a patronising bid to appease the LGBTQ+ community.

Crowley and Aziraphale are more obviously queer than most of these characters who were retroactively altered post-release. Sheen's character in particular is coded with elements of the Victorian Dandy lifestyle which acted as a clear precursor to modern queerness in both fashion and outlook. Still, confirming a sexual relationship between the pair on screen would ultimately rewrite what's considered canon in the book.

That's not to say the pair don't love each other. Gaiman has confirmed more than once that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, but labels like gay, bi or even pansexual don't quite fit in this instance.

In our interview, Gaiman clarified that their story arc in the show uses "all of the beats of a love story" to make it "purer and more fun".

"Watching them meet, watching the relationship grow, watching the ups and downs of it, watching the huge breakup in the bandstand in episode three, and then watching what happens to them after that."

The idea is that Crowley and Aziraphale don't have sexual desires in the same way humans do because they weren't created for reproductive purposes. Therefore, their love is portrayed as strictly platonic.

Understandably, a number of queer fans have taken offence at this, seeing Gaiman's treatment of these characters as erasure, but comments the author made during a recent Twitter exchange flip that idea on its head entirely.

By saying he "wouldn't exclude the ideas that they are ace [asexual], or aromantic, or trans," Gaiman is actually suggesting that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent areas of sexuality that are all too often ignored both outside and also within the LGBTQ+ community.

Even acknowledging that the ace spectrum exists is rare indeed, and comments from Twitter users below this exchange highlight just how validating this can be. Platonic love can be just as deep as romantic love, so why does sexual desire need to be used as proof that love each other?

Asexual relationships are almost non-existent on screen, so the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent this spectrum is actually far more groundbreaking than people often give Good Omens credit for.

Of course, labels are hugely important and the fight to see them used in this particular context is understandable. However, if Gaiman ever did decide to define the central love story as gay or trans or ace, then that would also trample over other readings which actually mean a lot to more marginalised members of the queer community.

At its heart, Good Omens is all about dismantling binary notions of morality and gender, and however you might want to label them personally, Gaiman has always maintained that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, no matter what form that might take.

Both the book and the show are undeniably queer in this respect, whichever way you look at it, so this might be the rare instance where it's better to not define what this queerness might entail and instead just celebrate our "heroes" for what they are. Ineffable and in love.

[ornamental-coral]

Do you have houses combos you love besides Snake Bird ?

Hi sorry it’s take me so long to get to you ‘nonnie human you. I promise if anyone sends me questions, I will get to them eventually! It just takes a while for me thinking about them, researching about them (doing Birdy Bird things with even a one-sentence question...), forgetting I have a sort-hat-chats centered tumblr account (which is... can sort of a Bird thing but also a me thing), and then coming back so we are here (there. somewhere)

I myself am a Snake-Bird. I think I’m pretty neat. Birds are usually very good at entertaining themselves. I think. And I’m lucky I like myself enough because I spend a lot of time with me haha.

I’m a little in love with a remarkable amount of Lion primaries, Snake secondaries and Bird primaries (especially with a Snake secondary to make them extra hard to hold onto *rolls eyes) and apparently I love writing Badger Primaries? I guess I find the challenge of building an “ideal” society that is willing to address the current failings of our timeline a worthwhile challenge and my ink-children rise from the ether to meet me.

I’ve expanded below bar because this is actually a really interesting concept to me - how does a particular house combination react to the others. Below is just my meandering through how specifically My Snake Primary Bird secondary might react on a surface level to the other house types. This doesn’t mean I’m right. There are as many ways of acting within the house system as there are human beings and keep in mind, this is all in good fun.

____________________

Lions

The Idealism of the Lion Primary is something that I find admirable. I posted a more extended musing on the position of Snake Birds within media here. I think the Snake in me understands that when you pick up a person the way Snakes do, you pick up a lot of their wants and regrets too. Snakes pick up People, so that means the whole package. A Lion with a worthy cause can be a very attractive thing to a Snake, who will follow and support them in a very specific kind of way. 

With Double Lions, and Lion Snakes there’s that urge to run after them with a fire-extinguisher in one hand and a big stick in the other - one to put out the fires a Double Lion inevitably lights and the Lion Snake may try purposefully to stoke, and the other to beat off anyone who dares to tell your Lion that they cannot Be A Lion. That’s something only the Snake can do, and that’s only because no matter what the Snake says, the Lion is still Their Person warts and all and the Snake Bird knows damn well what they were getting into, or at least thought they did.

Lion Birds house-match secondaries with Snake Birds but can have explosively different moral codes, largely because they method match. I personally find some Lion Bird characters a little grating because as the audience, I feel I’m getting the same information as the Lion, but as a Snake I have a little too much self-preservation to imagine myself doing anything much about it - at least not the way a majority of Lion Bird characters act - or I come to different conclusion. I also hate conspiracy theories because they require leaps of logic the my Bird model typically just can’t tolerate but the felt-house Lion will participate in. However, Lion Birds can also be the hard-boiled PIs, the Best-at-their-Job secret agents (hi Agent Coulson), the one who has Seen the World and Still Believes It Can Be Saved. So that’s admirable and fun.

Lion Badgers are sweet but my Snake Bird goes “fires, fires everywhere”. And like, not the kind your Lion Snake might think is funny when the Snake Bird tries to put them out. Think Steve Rodgers. MCU Steve has a really strong Snake Performance though when it comes to Bucky which MY Snake finds really confusing because it is So Strong I’d be willing to be money he would have at least tried to find a better way to get rid of the Tesseract if Bucky hadn’t fallen from that train and been declared KIA. I think that particular type of Snake performance also confuses Tony, which is part of why Civil War was the way it was.

But yeah, a fire that a Lion Badger wants to light? it’s not going to go out. For a Snake, having that as Your Person means you either really ride or die for them - and might actually literally have to die, or you are keeping them from burning themselves out before they accomplish whatever they’re doing. For a Snake Bird? this is alarming as hell and it’s a fight between the Secondaries to make sure the Lion takes care of themselves as part of the Lion’s “hard work” Badger, if they’re your person.

Birds

Bird primaries will “build” the people they love into the way they see the world. As a Snake, I think this is just really appealing to me? Snakes are loyal, and older Snakes have the life experience to realize that - painful as it is - this loyalty will not always be reciprocated in the way you hope for (this is the stereotypical bone of contention between Lions, Badgers and Snakes. Lions are focused on their cause and if the Snake’s protective instincts get in the way of that, that causes problems It also hurts when a Lion’s mission supersedes their affection for their Snake people. Badgers’ concerns are for their communities and the split of attention can drive the individually focused Snake crazy). If you get built into the Bird’s world, that always felt like something special and something that took hard work, which made it all the more valuable.

My Snake Birds also likes to imagine it’s equipped to learn to the things that a Bird variety believes in and address those things. It’s the kind of relationship that has the potential to go very wrong, and I do realize that. I think Snake Birds have the tendency to want to be everything for Their Person (or people) and our powers of observation mean that we take it a little personally when we’ve missed something. I’m tempted to call Kaz Brekker of Six of Crows a Snake Bird and it drives him to distraction that he can’t be everything, everywhere, all at once to the handful of a people he truly and deeply cares about.

The Bird Snake in particular house matches in a way that can be particularly challenging and attractive to a Snake Bird? A Snake Bird’s tool is, well, the Bird, and the whole persona can feel ridiculously pleased by being able to “pin down” the Bird Snake, which does not necessarily lend itself to being pinned. There’s also this strong urge to understand the Bird Snake. 

So there’s the Snake secondary who delights in finding new ways to be, and a Bird Secondary delights in learning new things. The discovery element in that relationship can, as long as the Bird Secondary is not stifled by the Snake Primary’s concern, actually be really rewarding. Birds, and Bird Snakes in particular are also often really unique. They think differently, act differently, can be off putting to certain types of house combinations because their moral code can come off is so blue-orange, and is Built on top of that. Snakes take great pride in being very “this is my Person and their brand of weirdness is just another thing I love about them. And on top of that, I Know them.” with their people in any situation, and if a Snake can eventually prove to their Bird Primary that that feeling is unwavering, that’s a relationship that becomes central to both Snake and Bird.

That isn’t to say Birds can’t go dark, but usually they learn to be that way given Birds are evidence-gatherers. Unfortunately, this means I love them too because people of my generation and all generations before and hence have a thing for characters with trauma (see Loki, greasy prince extraordinaire).  It’s -- it’s never not been a thing. Take a look at freaking Gilgamesh, which is the oldest things that we know of, look at Enkidu, and tell me he wasn’t your favorite. Gilgamesh is kind an arschloch of highest proportions. As a more palatable example of this Bird-villain thing, I sort of suspect Bucky Barnes is a Bird of some flavor. If he killed one person as the Winter Soldier, he’d feel bad but probably admit it was the brain washing - but he did it dozens of times. He wonders what does this say about him? He is possibly a Badger, but even pre-winter-soldier he doesn’t seem to care on as wide a scale as a Badger typically does. Steve is Built into the fabric of his world, and he doesn’t react to Steve’s death the way I expect a Snake to either. Maybe a really Old Seasoned Snake and I mean technically he’s old? but the cryogenics thing sort of means he’s not old enough to just let it go. He also doesn’t follow the boy from Brooklyn for reasons I would expect from a fellow Snake but I guess the new show might give more insight on that once I actually watch it.

Badgers

Okay, I like writing Badgers. [Leans back on chaise lounge] this probably has something to do with my mother.

Really though. I model Badger because my mother, although I love her and I’m really lucky to have her, is a teeny tiny bit horrified by Snake tendencies and drilled into me the morality that it is okay and it is above all Good to care about other people (for other Snakes, read Yes Even Strangers). To be fair, the prioritizing that Snakes do (which can get as focused as ”My people first, even if someone else far away is in trouble and I am acutely aware of it”) can seem pretty horrific to a Badger. They don’t necessarily get how you could believe everyone is a person and just... not care. And it’s hard to convince a Badger (for whom not acting can = they are not worth it) that you know exactly what you’re doing but are also aware that if you try to help everyone your head will explode because you can’t keep that many People up there. It’s why Snakes have their rings of caring.

But the result is that for me, Badgers are usually the ones left standing at the end of the story. If they’re done dirty, I like to try and fix it.

I don’t like how media treats Badger primaries generally though? There’s often something “goofy” or the Badger is treated as soft in a really unpalatable way. I mean, and to be fair this directly comes from the way a Snake can sort of be flummoxed with the way Badgers just do things for strangers, yes Badgers irl may be considered gentle. On an individual level, they are often the hearts and hearths of groups and homes.  But there’s this weird place where The State is supposed to be a Badger-shaped institution, so that uneasy balance comes out in weird ways.

I don’t remember who said it, but the difference with Badgers and Snakes is that, with a Snake, you start out at Zero. You’re human, but you’re not the Snake’s human, so I will treat you like a human, but there are My People above you. And with a Badger, you sort of start out at like 85-100%? At least this is my perception. Badgers need-base and that off-balances Snakes.

A Snake with a Badger in my opinion needs to be “eyes open” in a different way than even a Snake with a Bird does, because the Snake needs to understand that the Badger is going to look and act similar - until they don’t, and then the Snake needs to be able to put aside the part of them that was attracted to the mirrored morality and actually work with the Badger to figure out what the Snake needs and how the Snake can in turn support the Badger.

Anyways though, I’m writing a thing where a Badger Bird-modeling-Badger is the last woman standing, committed to fixing a broken type of organization that her Snake, Bird, and Lion companions are Tired of. Lady Badger is nothing if not resilient. I’m writing another thing where a really really Burnt Badger man gets a safe place to learn to be part of a community that is meant to be mutually protective again (he dies because this is a fan work and that’s what happened in cannon, and this is arguably because he’s still unburning at that stage and doesn’t Have a proper community, but I hope to show him having at least Some happy times because in the sh**show show he didn’t have any at all). I’ve got a slightly less developed thing where a number of Badger performing princes learn to work together to fix their kingdom and unbury the history that created it. 

Aaand It’s nearing midnight, I have clearly lost the thread of the thread or whatever

Goodniiight to all my houses. Love you all even if I didn’t write about you here.

-Ornamental