#I wasn't sure if I should save it once the event is over but I figured I might as well reblog them as I see them

[funkyspacealien]

Sorry for the quietness over here! I'm doing Art Fight this year and prefer posting all my work once the event is over to keep things organized. I'm doing 31 pieces this year, so it'll be a lot! If you would like to attack me, here's my page

[cokou]

𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 OCT 2: DESIRE # Trafalgar Law┆Fem! Reader

Request ✉* Good evening, afternoon, or morning:) May I request trafalgar law x fem!reader for Oct. 2?

Warnings ✉* Somnophilia, a bit non-con, Shit writing

WC ✉* words┆ characters

In far, far lands, somewhere around mysterious places, is where your body lies. A tower, thats' height seems so endless when looked upon a far view. A tower where, it reaches the sky. Your body, unconsciously sleeping on a bed for nearly half a decade, the roses that seemed like it was given to give their utmost wishes for you to wake up soon, has faded it's life and rotted on the bedside. How unruly and upsetting.

Until he came, Trafalgar D. Water Law. He could save you, if he wanted to, if his heart yearned for it, if his heart planned it. Oh yes, he plans such a thing, such adventurous personality where no one could ever stop him, made him end up finding your whereabouts. He climbed, step by step, in the agonizingly long and high staircase.

The journey through the tower was long, every step of his had so much memories. As he climbed up, and up, remnants of flower petals that seemed to rot and crush up into tiny more parts had been revealed. Daggers, knives, and even broken up plates, it seems that this place was likely an eventful place somewhere in history.

Tower was so old it grew moss inside, grasses by the floor and cobwebs by the corner, making Law sneeze as dust particles enter his cavity. He coughs as the dust spreads, and so he covers his nose with a little hankerchief.

There it was, he reached the top, only to find a big room provided by tons of cabinets, tables, and finally a large bed that lies your figure. He steps on a bouquet of roses that crushed up together, making aloud crunch sound that made his heart skip a beat. Preparing himself for the worst of a possible person jumping on him suddenly, he unsheaths his sword, wuickly examining the features of such delightful face.

The gloomy walls starts emitting dust even more, making Law sneeze once again. As you suprisingly not wake up, Law had questioned if you even are alived. Yes, you were, he placed his ears onto your chest.

"Badump" "Badump" "Badump"

His curiosity got the better of him as he dragged his hands along your skin, which made you receive unknown goosebumps all over your skin. He rubs his calloused fingers along your curves, then your cheeks, giving them a light squeeze. Not awake, how was this possible? An idea clicked inside his head, but it must've been not a good idea.

Law runs his fingers over the long skirt you were wearing, tracing your thighs then your legs, all the way to your feet. He gently rises your skirt, enough reveal your pair of thighs, and yet he wasn't satisfied. And so, he lifts them up all the way to your stomach, still not awake. By this point, your underwear was revealed, your legs and thighs. It only made him more curious.

Moving your panties to the side, he sneaks a peak from your cunt. His cheeks behin burning, telling everything in him that what he was doing eas incredibly wrong and that he should stop, but that wasn't what he did. Instead, he continued, nudging his nose into your clit. Earning no absolute sounds from you made his heart beat so much faster, he wasn't sure if he should continue or not.

The temperature of the room increases as Law began sweating so much more whilst admiring the delicate curves of your legs, and your hole. Law takes the step further and latches his mouth onto your clit, he holds your legs to spread them apart, earning the silent sigh coming out of your deep slumber as you began furrowing your brows from the sensation Law was giving you.

His pocket watch ticks louder, he could feel his heartbeat jumping out of his chest. The time slows down as if the day were a time loop of yesterday's. Law's actions had significant effect on you, yet, you seem like you won't wake up any sooner. And so, Law takes upon the chance to satisfy the curiosity he was led to. It was a bit too early to stop, yet stopping would make him earn for more.

He sticks his tongue out and licked a long strip of your pussy onto his mouth, the saltiness taste of your essence take over his taste. He lifts his face from between your legs, and examines you again. No reaction, no movements, were you dead? No— it's impossible, your heart was beating. Law decides to proceed, unwrapping his belt from his waist and put it silently on a chair besides the table, and so he pulls down his bottoms and reveals his thick cock.

It felt wrong— no, it was wrong. He wasn't sure what came over him to do this to such a peaceful lady, he thought of just turning you in into the nearest medical centers of the town's square. Moments of rethinking later, he makes rhe decision to do it, just once. Then he would turn you in for the sake of your health. His cock was practically begging for attention, it was leaking pre-cum and was such a tickled pink colored. It almost looked shy.

Law holds his cock to steady it infront of your entrance, smearing the pre-cum over your saliva-covered pussy. His shaft practically sliding in so easily with the wetness of your hole. It was impressive how your body acted towards him as you were unconsciously sleeping. Thrusting his hips forward, the bed silently shook.

He thrusts in out out of you at a steady pace, bothering his mind if you would wake up in any second and kill him for his acts. He would gladly take the punishment for the exchange of your well-being. Law was shaken off as he heard you sigh deeply in your sleep as your brows furrow once more, his thrusts becoming faster in order to finish quickly.

The deep feeling in his abdomen was about to snap, his cock felt like it was being bullied to it's max, which it was. His cock flushed a deep pink by the sensation caused, his sweat dripping down his forehead and neck, wiping it off using the sleeves of his clothes. Law was about to snap anytime soon as he felt the heat drizzling him off.

In one fast whip inside you, he accidentally spills his seed inside as he was lost in ecstacy. Feeling deeply troubled, he grabs his hankerchief and immediately starts wiping you down, his lost of mind didn't bother seeing you silently rose from bed with eyes wide open from the man cleaning her for the very first sight she'd saw for 6 years ago.

"What..are you doing?" Law shoots up and feits his teeth as he was caught.

"I— was cleaning you..." Law exclaims, he earns a subtle smile from you.

"Why thank you! Though i do not understand why you muct clean from down there, I—"

"Forget it! If you're gonna imprison me and let the town's square that i should be beheaded then do it!" Law yells. You shot up a curious impression, tilting your head to the side.

"Why would I do that? You were cleaning me! And..woke me up! Why shall I imprison such a nice man?"

"Woke you up? What do you mean?"

"Oh, my sincerest apologies sire..I for sure was in such an unconscious state, yet i hear everything around me. Once you had stepped in, i already knew that it were you who was to save me!"

"Wha—"

"If you agree, then i shall marry you!" "W—..What even is going on..?" Law scratches his mind as tons of stories from you came up.

General M.List┆Hentober 24 M.List

©Cokou 2024, all works belongs to me.

[yan-lorkai]

Can I request a part 2 of Sebastian's S/O accompanying him on contracts? Maybe sebastian gets a bit upset/jealous because Y/N has acted like a parent to Ciel recently by reading him bedtime stories and things like that.

Y/N tells Sebastian. "Darling, when was the last time our room was checked for cats?" And Sebastian realizes what Y/N is doing. (I might arguably like cats more than Sebastian)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This is such a cute rq 🥺🤭, I loved writing this tbh. Hope u like it too, darling and sorry for the huge delay hehe!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, implied possessive thoughts, biting and kissing, angst if you squint bcs Ciel. Possible typos.

The clock ticks tick-tock, tick-tock incessantly. The soft sound wouldn't bother the demon on any other night, but today the sound drags on and on, the hands dancing rhythmically, over and over. On any other night, Sebastian would have you beside him as your fingers comb his raven hair and he leaves soft kisses over your cheek and forehead and lips.

Sebastian is not a jealous demon, at least he thinks so. Considering the way other demons treat their partners like precious jewels and lock them away to protect them from the world, Sebastian makes sure he gives you enough freedom and cares for your happiness enough that you always come back to his arms at the end of each night. Except a week ago, as soon as the day's business is over and everyone retires to their rooms, you don't return to him - not right away, anyway.

And your thirty minutes late makes him uneasy, he needs his mate by his side. He needs you in his arms to finally feel relax from the routine. And yet, you'd rather go to the young master's room and read to him every night - a ritual you started a week ago.

A week when Sebastian has to stand longer and watch you read Ciel children's books and fluff his pillows before retreating with an almost parental smile. As an observer, Sebastian can only speculate on the reason for your odd behavior - surely you don't want children, you would have said so. But what if that's the way you found to express that desire and he didn't realize it? His head is full of "what ifs".

He moves to close the windows and curtains as you sit in the armchair next to Ciel's bed and open a book. The demon's reddish eyes find their way to the boy's rosy face, annoyed and uncomfortable, so alien to the small, simple moments a child should have. Sebastian could almost feel sorry for him if the scent of his soul wasn't so good and tempting.

'You are cruel', Sebastian thinks. You are cruel when you read to him, making funny and different voices, expressing the events of the books through exaggerated gestures, even though Ciel asks - asks, but doesn't order - that you stop. You are cruel when you smile and lean in to pinch the earl's rosy cheeks, yet he flinches from the contact as if his skin is burning.

You're cruel when Ciel's eyes close, but you keep holding one of his hands, pretending not to notice the slight tremor and stiffness because he's afraid you'll disappear and this new routine will end. You are cruel when you lean down and kiss his forehead, cover him with his warm blankets and ruffle his blue hair before sighing and placing the book on the desk, sending a cunning look at Sebastian.

The same look as when you found out you were soul mates and kissed him fiercely, the same look as when you said you would accompany him and be by his side. Sebastian loved that look. He was weak for that look.

Your movements are full of elegance as you beckon him with your index finger as you leave the earl's room, taking his hand in yours as you walk slowly back to your room. The ticking sound fades away, saving Sebastian from a growing headache now that he has you by his side.

"Darling, would you mind clarifying something?" He asked once you were back in the safety of your room, wrapping his arms around you like you were the most precious thing to him.

You let yourself be guided to the bed, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. A great weary sigh leaves your lips as you feel the warmth and security emanate from your loved one's arms, wanting more, wanting to be closer, wanting to be embraced by his essence. It was almost impossible to put into words how right it was for you to be there.

After a few seconds, you open your eyes and face him with a small smile, almost as if you know the confusion he felt and the thoughts he had. And you probably could, soul mates, especially supernatural soul mates, could share a lot of things: feelings, thoughts, memories, learnings, it was an almost unconscious process, but you were a sneaky little thing and he's sure you could figure out how to get into his mind.

"The reason why I started reading for Young Master?" You ask, turning to cup Sebastian's face in your hands carefully, placing several small kisses all over his face. And he nods, making a smile grow on your lips.

"Why, my love, reading to him is like playing with a puppy." You think, remembering the furtive glances, skittish demeanor and blush on the young boy's face. He was so cute you could almost bite his cheeks until they bled. "But yeah, there's a reason, honey, tell me, when was the last time our room was checked for hidden cats?"

You stifle a laugh at Sebastian's thoughtful expression as he puts together the pieces of the little puzzle that has been bothering him for that entire week. A sigh of disbelief escapes his throat as he looks up at you and takes in your smug gaze.

"Perhaps, you are more cruel than I realized." Sebastian thinks aloud, laughing at the sound of indignation that fell from his lips. He smiles, and it's his turn to shower your face and neck with slow, hot kisses, just the way you like it. It turns you to jelly right away. "I appreciate it, but I would still rather have my soulmate by my side at night. It's almost torture to endure all these minutes without you by my side, besides there are several other hiding places that I haven't shown you yet. Hiding places the young master would never find."

You let yourself be pulled into his lap, still feeling every place he kissed burn slowly, lips scraping over the foot of your ear as the demon watched you gasp. "You were very cruel leaving me and reading to the brat night after night."

"Is that jealousy I hear, Bastian?” You teased him. “Jealousy and clinginess?”

The lips that were close to your ear closed on your neck, biting the skin hard enough to draw blood and the pained moan that echoed through the room was inevitable. His warm tongue licked every red drop that ran down your neck and you felt him smile.

You knew Sebastian was proud, he just wouldn't admit he was jealous, especially of a human child. He would perhaps rather pretend to be a priest and deliver a sermon to a packed church than admit how jealous he felt and the thought made you laugh, even if your neck burned and the funny attempt to punish you was in vain. You could almost double over with laughter. You could imagine him wearing a signature robe with his hair slicked back and his reading glasses draped over his face. He would be the perfect sinful image that believers should turn away from.

"Oh darling, you can bite and kiss me some more," You said in a tired voice, then added, "But I only speak the truth."

"That's rich coming from a demon." He snarled.

"Ah, shut up." You silenced him by laughing. "Let's go to bed already, I want to sleep cuddling with you."

Sebastian smiled. He couldn't deny you that, even joking, when you asked him with that voice and that sweet look, he was incredibly weak to you and promptly did what was asked, parting with you to get rid of his shoes and tailcoat while you did the same with your uniform.

Within minutes, you found yourself in each other's arms, red eyes meeting yours, as you leaned in to share one last kiss.

Demons didn't need to sleep and Sebastian preferred not to, but you used to take a little nap after a long day to recharge and your strong grip on his waist ensured that Sebastian wouldn't run away from your arms while you slept, the thought of the empty, cold bed beside you bothered you, even in unconsciousness your grip would not loosen.

Your head nestled against his chest, your eyes slowly closing as you listened to the soft sound of his heart synchronizing with yours. The world slowly blurred as you felt Sebastian's loving gaze on you.

"Love you my jealous demon, see you in a few hours."

And with that, you entered the world of dreams, letting your soulmate take care of you and watch over your sleep.

[thebaronsilver]

First of the bat, let me say this as a disclaimer. I love the og Percy Jackson series. Secondly, my fav character is Nico and then the Percy from the og series.

Do you know why I make this distinction? Because, Heroes of Olympus ruined Percy's basic characteristics.

Just think, this is the percy who was bullied in almost every school he attended (except, maybe, Goode). Even, camp half blood,till he came back from the first quest. This is the guy with so strong a sense of loyalty that he was willing to get into trouble with the teachers for Grover when they studied together, was willingly an outcast because he would rather be friends with the one guy everyone picked on and thus be bullied himself. He was pretty excited to have a brother once he got over the whole Cyclops thing, too. This is the same guy who spent all his free time looking for a runaway kid who said he hated him. Maybe it was out of misplaced guilt. Maybe it was due to the fact this guy big brothered everyone he could get away with. (Atleast, I felt like that.)

While we're on that issue. Was Nico right to blame Percy for Bianca's death? Absolutely, not. But he was also a grieving ten year old who just lost his only family (even though she had, in a way, already left him behind. But that's an entirely different rant on the Hunters as an institutions. Bianca was also a child, remember.). And considering that Nico changed his tune once he found the truth out and even helped Percy and the camp willingly afterwards, I like to think he more than made up for that mistake.

There's even a part where Percy refuses to burden Nico with the prophesy and claims it for himself. Considering that till then he was trying not to even think about it, I believe we can easily claim that Nico was in some ways important to Percy. Maybe not in the same way his Mom, Annabeth Or Grover was to him, but still an important person.

Then we have in the last Olympian, Percy using Nico as an example why Children of Hades shouldn't be treated as Pariahs. Because if not for him and the reinforcements his powers brought (not even counting the three whole deities he brought along) the casualties would have been higher. (It was Hades who locked Percy up. He even confirms that Nico hadn't had a clue. Nico in turn broke him out and got himself in trouble. Then in a turn of events, Percy starts to blame Nico for something that wasn't in his control. A reversal of roles so to speak. I had thought that it had been momentary anger on Percy's part, but apparently considering all the references to how Nico betrayed him in the HoO, it wasn't. He'd pushed it aside momentarily, it seems.)

Percy was not to blame for what happened to Nico in the original series. Life isn't fair and it just happened to be extra unfair to Nico. Even then Percy went out of his way to look after the kid, to make sure he had a safe space.

This is the Percy who I liked. The Son of Neptune only emphasised this. Even without his memories, he took Hazel and to a lesser extent Frank under his wings. He actually recognised Nico in a vague way. Not just Annabeth (which is something else I have beef with. What about his mother? Why didn't he remember Sally till a lot later and even then he didn't let her know he was safe till a lot later?)

Then comes the Mark of Athena. He apparently told so many horror stories to the 7 that there was a debate on whether or not they should save a 13 year old demigod, the brother to one of them, from a preventable death. This wasn't like the Titan war were demigods could be the enemy. Then why was there even a debate? It's like all that loyalty disappeared. This is the guy that was once bullied at every school he's attended. Doesn't he know the impact of telling tales when people aren't there to defend themselves? To tell the whole story? Then House of Hades. Every single person in that ship thought that Nico was spooky, creepy whatever and all that poor kid was doing was exist. He made himself scarce, barely spoke unless necessary and even then they were like ew, creepy. It's like Percy's personal loyalty became loyalty to just Annabeth. Fuck whatever happens to anyone else. It upsets me.

The later books ruined Percy as a character. And I will stand by this.

[fallingdownhell]

Hi! I read your rules and i thinks this is okay, but if not then i'm sorry and just ignore this uwu

Would you write some angst to comfort with xiao and alhaitham (and any other genshin men you like) where reader have selective mutism and the boys have learnt to understand them, but one day reader gets in trouble and all distressed just call for them? Thank 💖

I‘m gonna be completely honest here, I‘ve never heard of this condition before until now. I did some research on it before writing this, so I think I have a general understanding about it now. But if I completely fucked up and missrepresented it, please let me know!

Characters Included: Xiao; Alhaitham

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has selective mutism; hurt/comfort; some angst; fluff; slight spoiler for this years Lantern Rite in Xiao's part; reader getting comforted; not proofread yet

Word count: 2,2k words

Hope you enjoy!<3

Xiao

Dating an Adeptus isn't always easy. Both you and Xiao had to learn that lesson the hard way.

Especially at the beginning of this relationship, miscommunication was a very common thing. Mostly from Xiao's side, since he wasn't used to that kind of openness and vulnerabilty.

Giving him time and reassurance is the key to make things work with him. But once he gets used to being in a relationship with you, you can talk to him about anything.

Tell him all your deepest, darkest secrets, your troubles and doubts, your insecurities. Whatever it is, he listens to it attentively, saving it all in his memory so he can always come back to it should he need to.

When you first told him about your condition, he was a bit confused and asked you to elaborate on it more, so he could better understand you and maybe help you deal with it.

He carefully listens to every single word you say, until he thinks he got the gist of it. But as it seems to only apply to certain types of situations, he's sure it won't pose as much of a problem for the relationship overall.

He's more concerned about the situation with your family. He knows that you managed to work things out with your parents, at least. That you're able to talk with them on most occaisions, but there still came up stressfull situations from time to time where you would go silent again. But thankfully, your parents were very understanding of your situation and tried to help and support you the best they could.

However, the same thing could not be said about other relatives of yours.

From the few things you've told Xiao, he's gathered that you absolutely hated going to large family events, where lots of extended relatives would be present. Mainly because they always put immense pressure onto you, asking you about your job, achievements, you love life and stuff. You never could handle all the pressure put onto you, so you never learned to deal with them like you did with your parents, which showed in you staying mute when with those people. But your silence only seemed to fuel them on even more.

Now, Lantern Rite was upon the nation of Liyue again, and your parents have invited you for a get together with the family. You've been thinking long and hard, wether you wanted to attend or not.

Xiao, despite not being a social person at all, has offered to accompany you, but after thinking it over for a bit, you had refused his offer. Your reasoning being that you haven't told any of your family members about your relationship with him yet, and you didn't want to announce it at the even either, fearing the attention that would be placed on you as a result.

While he understood, it didn't exactly help to put his mind at ease. So, he made you swear, that if you got to uncomfortable, you'd find a quiet place and call for him, so that he could get you out of there as fast as possible, to which you thankfully agreed.

When the day of the event came, Xiao was anxious the entire day. He did go out to try and take his mind off of things, running into Zhongli and the Traveller in the process. Conversing with them distracted him for a bit, yet he always had one ear open in case you were calling for him.

Which did not happen at first.

Later, when Lantern Rite was in full motion, and Xiao had invited the Traveller to send off a Xiao Lantern with him, was when the course of the night would change.

They had released the lantern a little while ago, the Traveller had already left, but Xiao was still standing in his spot, watching it fly further and further up into the sky. When suddenly, he heard your voice, low and weak, calling out to him.

Within seconds, he was by your side, but when he saw the state you were in, his chest tightened.

Your cheeks were red, as were your eyes, swollen from your crying. Tearstains on your cheeks, but fresh ones still ran down over and over. You were cowering on the floor, alone in some room in the house.

Seeing you like this, Xiao felt anger rise within him, but most of all, he was worried about you.

"Can I pick you up?", he asked, his voice gentle as he crouched down in front of you.

You nodded as an answer, so Xiao moved very slowly, afraid that moving too quickly would startle you even more. He carefully picked you up from the floor, one hand supporting you on your back an the under your knees, he felt you immediately hide yourself against his chest, your arms coming around his neck to better support yourself.

Once you were secured in his arms, he teleported himself back to his room in the Wangshu Inn and gently layed you down on the soft bed. However, you were unwilling to let you of him, your arm tightening their hold around his neck, like you desperately needed him right now.

So, he climbed onto the bed with you, positioning the both of you so you were laying comfortably.

"Is there anything I can do to help you, (Name)? Do you need anything? Something to drink? Anything?"

He was a tad bit overwhelmed with the situation, but tried his best to be a support for you. However, you responded with a shake of your head.

The fact that you refused to speak to him, made him wonder just how bad the event went if you refused to speak to even him right now. Still, he wasn't about to leave you alone like this.

So, he carefully and gently wrapped his own arms around your body, gently tracing one hand up and down your spine in hopes that this motion would comfort you.

"Take your time. You don't have to talk to me right away. Just.. let me know somehow if I can do anything for you. I mean it. No matter what it is, don't hesitate to let me know."

Alhaitham

Since you've been a kid, you've always had troubles at school. Not because you weren't smart or didn't understand the things being thaugt to you there.

But for the fact that you refused to speak, as your teachers would word it. Whenever a teacher would call you up in class, asking for you to answer a question, you refused to speak up, not a single word leaving your lips, ever.

Even conversing with your classmates during breaks between lessons wasn't something you did. You just remained silent the entire day during school.

Your parents have often been to your school as per request of the principal, demanding something to change since he wouldn't tolerate such behaviour from you, as he claimed. Your parents couldn't comprehend your behaviour either, since you talked just fine with them outside of school.

And in the end, there was nothing the principal could do about it, since your grades were actually very good, at the top of your class, even.

In truth, it was more that you simple couldn't speak in the school setting. The anxiety that came with being called upon in class, the expectations of the teachers, it has always been too much for you to handle, which resulted in your body physically preventing you from speaking in such situations.

This was something that had dragged itself along through your entire life, even still when you entered the Academiya to continue your studies.

Which would be the place when life would finally start to turn around for you, and where you would also meet your boyfriend, Alhaitham.

You had some courses with him, but it took almost an entire year until the two of you actually first met.

It had been the start of a new semester and as it always was at first days, seatings got switched around. Alhaitham ended up sitting next to you.

When he introduced himself, he did not mind that he didn't get an answer from you aside from a simple head nod. Over time, he came to enjoy sitting next to you. You kept quiet and to yourself, never bothering him, which he quite appreciated. He came to enjoy your presence, so he decided to engage in conversation with you.

At first, he found it odd that you wouldn't reply verbally to him, only induldging him with head nod or shakes, but ultimately, he decided that it didn't matter, so long as he could still hold a conversation with you, which he could.

The first time you would meet up outside of lectures was when the two of you were partnered up for a project. You were given three weeks to complete it. The teamwork went well.

So well in fact, that after the first few meet up, you slowly but surely began talking to him. He was surprised when he first heard your voice, but pleasantly so.

Over time, he pretty much figured things out on his own. The fact that you did not speak a word to him during lectures, but would talk just fine to him outside of the Academiya setting spoke volumes to him. Yet, he never adressed the issue, which you were grateful about. You knew that he knew, but neither of you cared enough about it, since it never bothered any of you.

Then came the day were things changed, but only for the better.

It was a free study day for the students of your Darshan today, so Alhaitham and you had decided to meet up at the House of Daena to study together.

Alhaitham was running a bit later that day so he hurried over as quickly as possible. Upon entering into the House, he could already hear shouting coming from one of the far end book shelves. He was annoyed by it, but didn't want to concern himself with it too much, instead letting his eyes wander over the space as he was on the lookout for you.

To his dismay however, he did spot you, but only a second later realised that you were involved into that argument taking place. Not only that, but you were actually the person that was being shouted at, and by one of your professors nonetheless.

Immediately, he began to make his way over to the two of you, passing many nosy students on his way who all watched this go down, yet none of them thought to interviene, at all. The closer Alhaitham got, the clearer the words of his professor got.

"...-you think you are? Why are you still not saying anything?! God damnit, are you doing this to mock me or something? How hard can it be to speak?"

The professor was talking himself into a rage, angrily shouting at you, his voice continued to get louder and more agitated with each word. Now almost there, Alhaitham finally got a good look at you, and it almost made his heart shatter.

You were trembling so much, body shaking, as you were clutching a book tightly between your fingers, pressing it close to your chest, like it would somehow shield you from his words. He wasn't sure, but he Alhaitham swore that he saw tears welling up in your eyes as your mouth opened and closed over and over again, yet no words came out.

Before the professor could spoute more hateful words your way, Alhaitham finally reached you, putting himself between you and the teacher, acting as your shield in this situation.

He gave the professor a vage excuse as he put a hand to your back and gently guided you out of the House of Daena first, then out of the Academiya alltogehter.

Once outside, you felt like you could finally breathe again, taking a deep breath in and slowly releasing it again. You were about to face Alhaitham and try to thank him when he surprised you by taking your hand and silently leading you even further away from the building.

You didn't question him and let it happen, letting him lead you to a small and quiet little café in the city. He ordered you both something to drink and you sat down at a quiet corner.

With your drinks in front of you, it was silent for a good while, until you felt safe enough to speak again.

"..Thank you.", you quietly thank him, your voice still a little shaky.

Alhaitham looked at you for a few seconds, and you thought you saw relief flashing over his face for a second when hearing your voice. Then the next second, it was gone again, and he nodded.

"Of course, no need to thank me. I simply could not sit back and let him talk to you like that."

You nodded as well, accepting his response.

The two of you spent some more time in the café, conversing a bit more as you were enjoying your drinks. Afterwards, Alhaitham insisted on paying for yours, as well, which you reluctantly agreed to.

Then, he insisted on walking you back to your home, wanting to make sure that you'd arrive safely, as he put it.

You thought it to be weird at first, since he's never done that before, but you still agreed to it.

And as you were walking back to your home, that was when he decided to pop the question: "So.. what do you say to calling this our first date?"

...Yeah, you could never get tired of telling this story.

[amalythea]

moonstruck ; birthday event !

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As a way to celebrate me being old and a way for me to get back into writing I decided to host an event! I wrote these prompts like a year ago back on @soleillunne with the help of @starrveill (i love you)

This is a request based event, if you have an idea in mind send me an ask with a prompt, a genre (optional) and a character of your choice.

You can send in as many asks as you want, but only one prompt and character per ask is allowed. So you can ask the same prompt for different characters with multiple asks.

I will delete any request that's against my rules and just make me uncomfortable in general. If you have any questions about the characters I write for please don't hesitate to ask.

I will tag this post and each post related to this one with "moonstruck!", and the event will get its own masterlist. I don't know when I will close the event, but I will announce when I do.

Below are the prompts, go crazy (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

1. “don't smile at me like that!”

2. “may i have this dance?” “well, if you insist.”

3. “stop moving, i'm almost done!”

4. “well, if i tell you it wouldn't be a secret.”

5. “the moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

6. “i wouldn't wanna fight you. you're pretty feisty.”

7. “your eyes are always on them.” “…are they? I haven’t noticed.”

8. “do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

9. “are you sure you're okay? your face seems a little red.”

10. “...on the bright side, we'll know how not to cook next time.”

11. “you're my favorite person.”

12. “close the curtains! my eyes are burning!” “don’t you think you’ve slept in long enough, you little vampire?”

13. “here.” ”what are you doing?” “giving you my jacket. cover yourself up, people are staring.” (bonus: “…are you sure you’re not the one staring?”)

14. “how… do you understand my feelings so well?” “…because i’d been in your place once”

15. “i love you. now say it back.” “please— stop talking, save it till we get you help—” “say it back—” “i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me—”

16. “dont miss me too much, okay?”

17. “tell me what i can do for you.” “stay.”

18. “wait! don't go... not yet.”

19. “i swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

20. “how do you make the pain go away?”

21. “you feel like home to me.”

22. “it's okay to cry, you know.”

23. “you're acting like my mom.” “shut up and let me take care of you.”

24. “i'm never leaving you. you're stuck with me.”

25. “in your darkest moments, I'll be your guiding light.”

30. “you're exhausted, honey.”

31. “can i have another blanket?” “do you really think that’s a good idea, love?”

32. “come over here; let me patch you up.”

33. “how do you do it?” “do what?” “make me feel alive.”

34. “i have no idea how i got through my days before i met you.”

35. “what do you feel when you're with me?” “when i'm with you... i feel at peace.”

36. “you lied to me. was i just a pawn in your game? the easiest one you can discard?”

37. “you make me feel so alone.”

38. “i don't know what to do without you.”

39. “make sure it kills me.”

40. “i love you, until the end of the world.”

41. “you had your chance.”

42. “wait for me, will you?”

43. “i don't want to go.”

44. “i'm sorry, have we met before?”

45. “it's okay, you can let go.”

46. “i can't help but wonder if you ever truly loved me.”

47. “given your history, i should have known better.”

48. “you made a promise.”

49. “in the end, I was just a stepping stone in your path to success, wasn't I?”

50. “i can't trust you anymore, not after what you did.”

51. “…please don’t come any closer.” “why not?” “i don’t want to hurt you.” “who said you would?”

52. “people always leave, so why should it be any different now?” “what if i told you that i never planned on leaving? not now, not ever?”

53. “the only thing that makes every ounce of pain worth enduring is you.”

54. “i love you too much to stay away, and I wouldn't wish for anything less than to spend an eternity by your side.”

55. “the day i lose you is the day that i lose everything.”

56. “please don't go... i love you.” “...i wish i could believe that.”

57. “i'm sorry. you deserve so much more than this, and i can't even give you that, no matter how much i want to.”

58. “do you know the difference between history and you?” “what?” “history is the past, but you’re my future.” “…oh my god.”

59. “now remember, you don’t need to apologize for things you aren’t responsible for, okay?” “okay! i’m sorry!” “…i literally just said not to apologize.” “sorry..” “damn it. we’re gonna have to work on that a bit more.”

60. “i’m sure the feeling won’t last, but let me hold onto you a little bit longer before i go.”

Bonus: send me a prompt/lyrics of your choice!

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moonstruck — unable to think or act normally, especially as a result of being in love.

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@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[nonnieapple]

Afk journey, Sinbad, trans male/gender neutral reader, nsfw fanfiction. (I love this man very much)🤍

⛈️☂️Hook, Line, and Sinker☂️⛈️

• (Sinbad x trans!male!Reader)

• r a t i n g: e x p l i c i t • 4 1 4 0 w o r d s

• p o s t e d: 01.11.2024🌧️ navigation

n o t e: sinbad is so hot, i wish men were real :( s u m m a r y: sinbad walks in at the worst possible time, and the following events complicate your relationship further.

It was nearing night, and the hamsters were fast asleep as well as most guests of the inn. 

  When Sinbad walked into your room, you were staring out of the window with a wistful look, like the look his mothers had when they gazed out at the sea, remembering their husbands, lost forever to the fog and unrelenting waves. He wondered who you longed after, if anyone. Maybe you longed for home. Or for something he couldn't possibly imagine. 

  Before he closed the door, you broke the silence. 

  "You dare disturb my rest?"

  Even turned away, you heard him. Your voice sent tingles up his leg. The room veered towards cold, the windows open, making the curtains flutter like sails. 

  "You're really living it up in here," Sinbad remarked, inviting himself to sit down on the fancy armchair flanked by another and a couch in the west of your room. 

  He hadn't ever been in it yet, and he was sure you wouldn't mind if he just sprawled out a little, he stretched, his boots hitting the leg of the short table. Lit candles sitting upon golden thrones flickered on it. Two glasses and a bottle were there as well. 

  "As I should, I was to have a vacation, and I'm still getting it, Cedartown or not." You made your way to the couch, your visage somewhat blurry from all the glamour swallowing up your form, the air around you swaying. 

  If he looked at you too long, he could see something was terribly wrong. It was not something anyone could notice at first, or at second sight, only those looking for it might begin to pull at the thread. He stopped examining you. He wasn't sure what he'd find. 

  You were like the fog that had almost killed him- leading him in mental circles until he went mad trying to get himself out of it. 

  Sinbad's leg jerked when you approached. You stood, close, your robe made of small, black, and knitted net. It should've revealed everything you wore under it- instead, everything around your chest and hips darkened and blurred. 

  The magic that wafted off you made his head spin. Or maybe it was that he drank too much. Sinbad sighed shakily as you ghosted your touch over his face, your eyes sharp and inhuman. The next second, they turned warm. 

  "Did you drink that swill again? Here, drink something good for once." 

  He barely caught the bottle you threw into his arms, and he thought, somewhat incredulously, You're too kind.

  But, really, Magister- I don't know what to think of you. One second you wanna kill me and the next you're my savior. 

  I'll never know who you are, will I?

  His eyes skimmed over the label. Dark liquid sloshed within darker green walls. "Woah! Fancy stuff. It's actually red."

  The wine he was used to at most establishments was pale, watered down to save costs. You shrugged. You must've been used to good wine, good food, good people. He envied you. 

  "It's from an... old friend."

  The way you said that with so much hesitance made his heart drop. 

  "They must be rich."

  Sinbad popped open the bottle and poured himself some. He might as well indulge, and your room was a good place to do that. Upon second thought it might be questionable. 

  He had to hold back on drinking. He couldn't afford to do something stupid.

  "Beyond that, and a massive drunkard I could never deny, but as I don't drink I have no use for his gifts." You took up the whole couch, propping up your head with a hand, the other playing idly with the belt of your delicate robe. 

  If he was to be mean, he'd liken you to a fish caught in a net, but he couldn't lie, you were more of a siren. 

  You hummed.

  "I guess I could have a glass."

  You poured yourself nearly half the bottle, and swallowed a third of the glass, drinking like a fish. He struggled not to gawk at you. 

  "Old friend... bet you have plenty of those. Not like it bothers me," he tacked on at the end, scratching at his scalp lightly. 

  The fireplace crackled and sputtered red. Strange, it gave off no warmth. Was it magic? Sheesh, what about you wasn't magic? 

  The rug beneath his boots was sure real, and a real good rug, too. If he were to get piss drunk he'd choose the rug over the street to pass out on. Oh, there were even pillows on the floor. Perfect. 

  "I mean it. We were friends, he isn't an old flame- as far as I know."

  As far as you knew?

  "You sure about that?" He raised a brow. 

  "Quite. Though one actual old flame, I wonder how she's doing. It's been a while, I last saw her in Holistone, it has been months since then. Damn Hogan for sending me on this "vacation", now I'm stuck in the middle of the sea with no idea when I'll see him or Valen. He should've gone with me."

  Pushing aside his slight offense at the Rustport slander, you had mentioned General Hogan and Valen a few times. One was a Magistrate and, guess what, General of Holistone, the other some swashbuckling knight who, as he understood it, was hitting on you. 

  "Well, I'm glad he didn't."

  "Hm? Why is that?" You smirked, your eyes glimmering like the wine you swished in your hand.

  If Sinbad was pale, you would've seen his face lose color in an instant. 

  "I mean- I meant- he would've drowned in his armor, is all! It would've been worse than what happened to Chippy." 

  He drank quickly so he couldn't see your gloating expression.

  "You're holding your glass like you're throttling a neck." 

  Even if he drank and drank, he still heard your voice, and if he plugged his ears, you'd get into his mind, too. 

  He couldn't tell if that was a way to hint at his discomfort or point out his terrible manners. 

  "I'm not much of a wine drinker."

  You, on the other hand, held your glass between your thumb and forefinger ever so lightly. That fucking hand was calling him poor just at a glance. 

  "This better?" He emulated the way you did it, though it was nowhere near as graceful. 

  "Much better. The wine compliments your shirt." 

  The red, satin shirt, an illusion you cast, felt good nonetheless, and the wine was divine. It was bright, just sweet enough, and with a hint of berries and zest. It tasted more like the few fruits he had tried than the usual- as you put it- "swill" he drank. 

  It settled warmly in his chest, with the occasional sour tingle in his cheeks. 

  Sinbad didn't want to leave your room. It was fancy, and more importantly, it had wine AND you. 

  "How've you been?" You said between sips, your expression softening. 

  "Good. I've been spending a lot of time poking around the ship, avoiding going to Brineville so I don't have to explain myself. Things are better than before I met ya, anyway, I can finally do what I want, and... everything's so calm." 

  It was strange to not have to think about every little expense anymore for the village now that no one threatened its safety, and he was essentially a "hero". Sure, he still had to make money somehow and Rustport was as rusty as ever, but so much had been lifted off his shoulders. 

  By you, no less. 

  He'd said he'd repay you. That nagged at his mind sometimes. What could you possibly want? 

  It was nothing to worry about. It wouldn't be worse than what he had gone through. 

  "Planning on leaving soon?" 

  If he wasn't mistaken, he saw you frown ever so slightly. 

  "Not yet. I've got a lot to do here before I leave. What about you?" 

  You threw back your head and let your hair spill over the edge of the couch. 

  "You know, been here and there, helping people as I do, went fishing with my familiars. I like helping people and spending time with them but I do need alone time." 

  That was why the hamsters were in another room. Sinbad had to admit, they were cute and had grown on him. You truly were the most precious thing he had ever found washed up on the beach. He'd be no one without you. 

  "Are you leaving soon?" 

  You shook your head. "I want to stay a bit longer, until you leave, I suppose. I won't have much to do then. I'm dealing with people's problems rather quickly." 

  Of course, you weren't staying only for him. You were busy. 

  "I'm glad you're staying a bit longer." He couldn't imagine being without you now. You were the closest friend he'd had. Everyone wanted something from him, and you had asked for the least, always generous, if quirky. 

  You smiled, returning his giddy expression, which he hadn't noticed himself pull. 

  He felt his face get warmer. Must've been all the wine. 

  He and you listened to the crackling of the fire, finishing your glasses. You lounged like a cat. You were the image of peace when you closed your eyes. He rolled up his sleeves, feeling somewhat hot all of a sudden. He waited for you to kick him out, it'd happen sooner or later.

  You watched from under your lashes. 

  "I was surprised that you had tattoos, though they are common here," you said. 

  He had helm tattoos on each forearm. "Funny story, I got them when I was drunk, like, extremely. I don't remember where or how exactly I got them." At least they healed fine and he had not felt much pain. He hadn't felt much at all.

  "They suit you well." Your eyes lingered for a while. 

  "I have more that you haven't seen." He smirked, putting on that smooth-talking persona again. 

  "Although tempting, you won't smooth-talk me, Sinbad," you said sternly. 

  He sighed. A guy had to try. You were so damn hard to scam and trick, it was annoying. You were one of the only people immune to his charms. You were looking at him like he was a helpless animal. Again. 

  Instead of words of pity, he was hit with: 

  "You look upset. Mope in another room, I'm exhausted," you said, yawning and turning away from him unceremoniously. 

  He left with a huff. 

  "Good night to you too, Magister Merlin." 

  ...

  "Good night." 

  He should've been asleep.

  Sinbad crept across the hall towards your newly luxurious room, careful not to make a sound, like he was escaping from a dungeon (like he had many times). 

  Sinbad cracked open your door. Strange, he left it unlocked, he thought. The room was dark and silent except for the sounds of the breeze coming in through the windows, like breaths.

  You seemed to be asleep, as far as he could tell. He was sure he had heard something from your room. Maybe it had been the wind.

  "Magister?" he said into the black, closing the door behind himself. It was not entirely dark, he noticed as he moved towards your canopy bed, as there was a lone candle burning close to the window. 

  The fireplace had no remains of smoldering wood. 

  The windows- they were closed shut. The sound was not from there. Had it been the draft instead? If this was how noisy the good rooms were, he'd go complain to Bols later. 

  Sinbad pushed past the closed curtains of the canopy bed, the fabric heavy and lush, a velvet he hadn't even dreamed of touching before, with much trepidation, his heart tense, ready for a beast to lunge at him any moment. 

  He didn't see what happened, it happened swiftly, the shape in the bed shifting loudly. The sound of the breeze halted. 

  "Ah, Sinbad. I was just thinking of you," you said, and it was undeniably you, your voice quiet yet clear, a little exasperated, your breathing so shallow he would've believed you if you said you had run around the whole of Rustport in a minute. 

  He would've believed you if you hadn't been in your bed all this time.

  "Why aren't you asleep?" he stammered with wide eyes, gaze lost as he adjusted, making out your fuzzy shape. It was leaner than usual. He sensed none of your usual glamours on you.

  "I could ask the same of you." 

  He leaned his knee on the bed, and you moved away. 

  "Some noise woke me up, and I thought it came from your room. Was I right?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, seeing that you lay rigid and didn't want him to come near you. To him, it seemed that something had happened, and you were uncooperative as to what. 

  One of his jobs was to get information. Clearly, he wasn't much good at it with you around. 

  "Did something happen, Magister? You're worrying me." His brows lowered over his honey-brown eyes. 

  "You didn't knock. You should leave my room." The light brightened against your face. Your skin was dewy and your hair was disheveled, the bedsheets in disarray. You were a mess. 

  The Merlin, a mess? 

  "I did know- and- you can't kick me out again!" He leaned over you as you leaned against cushiony pillows.

  You pushed on his chest to get him away, your hand hot and humid. 

  "... Are you dense or what?" you snapped. "What do you think I'm doing in a dark room, alone, in my bed, gasping for air?" 

  His face transitioned from bewilderment to horror. 

  Oooh.

  Embarrassment hit him like a wave. Holy Tritonus, he had heard you moaning. In this case, he was dense beyond belief. And the reason you were recoiling wasn't because something was wrong, it was, because, well. He chose the worst possible time to intrude. 

  And the reason your frame seemed leaner now was because you had no glamours concealing your body indeed, and no clothes besides that robe. He could see your bare skin between the fabric you held together with a tense hand. 

  He had trouble not looking. And it wasn't the wine, that had long left his system. 

  "Shit, I... I didn't..."

  He had no excuse, and so close to you, caging you in, neither of you could escape, captured in the world's most awkward stalemate. The words drowned in the depths of his mind.

  "You said you were thinking about me earlier. Do you mean...?" he trailed off, his voice mumbling and strained. Everything felt like a dream. He'd pinch himself if he wasn't frozen. 

  "I left the door open for you. I didn't expect you to come." 

  Sinbad's breathing had accelerated. He had already had thoughts about you. He couldn't possibly resist anything you asked him to do. That hint of servitude remained in him, and he was all eager to please. 

  "I'm here." He tried to smile, but it came out rather strained. 

  You pulled him in by tangling your hands in his freshly dried hair. Your lips were one push away. 

  He had already gotten ready for bed- his skin infused with whatever fancy soaps he managed to snatch this time. It mixed with that woody scent of a faraway home that clung to you no matter how many times you got drenched with rain or seawater. 

  "So?" 

  He felt your every breath. Berries. 

  "So..."

  You kissed him first. 

  You were far from a reserved, shy mage. You nipped at his lip and broke the kiss just to piss him off. 

  He cursed like the sailor he was. Next thing he knew, his boots were lost in the dark along with his scarf (it felt like sacrilege to wear it during this), his shirt untucked and partially unbuttoned by your nimble fingers. You traced over the anchor tattoo between his collarbone and shoulder. 

  That wasn't how he expected you to find it. 

  Your hips were fuller than they appeared, filling him with thoughts he couldn't possibly speak, and your waist was small, perfect for holding when he-

  Your chest wasn't quite... flat. That made him stop. His silent question hung in the air. 

  "I'm trans," you said, amused at how he was surprised by you again and again. You had hidden your chest to a point where he couldn't have guessed. 

  He had never been with someone like you (in any sense), but he didn't mind. 

  Your chest was soft, each breast perfectly fitting into his hand. At each caress and pull you reacted accordingly. It was his turn to be amused, and he was enjoying it immensely. 

  Your face and voice did not falter, the only thing betraying your feelings being your shallow breathing. Would your breaking point be easy to reach, or would he reach his first? 

  Goosebumps raised on your thighs when he felt them up with his calloused fingers. Only the richest of the rich could have pristine hands in Rustport. Sinbad spread your legs with little resistance from you, his hand wrapping around most of your thighs' circumference. 

  His hand dipped between your legs. You were wet, the wetness covering parts of your inner thighs. The hotness ignited a fever in him, a fever he hadn't felt in a long time, and never so strongly. Most of his prior fucks were hookups, and sometimes, to get out of uncomfortable situations in his jobs. They didn't happen often and he hardly looked forward to them. With you, he could hardly stop his hands and other body parts of his from thrusting right into you. You were by far the hottest guy he'd been with.

  At the rough touch on your clit you jolted with a soft sigh, your legs closing on instinct, but they were stopped by Sinbad being in the way. 

  The thought crossed his mind that you were surrounded by others from all sides, and at any second, anyone could walk in. He didn't mind- he liked a bit of danger. 

  "How are you feeling?" he whispered close to your ear, hand exploring all the places that could feel best for you. He would make sure you'd remember this as a positive memory, and even if you left and never saw him again, the scene would stick in your mind.

  "I've been better," you said with a shortness of breath, but impressively coherently.

  "Don't you think this is a bad time for jokes?" Would you still talk like that if he filled you up? Would your face still be so serene? 

  "It's a perfect time for-" he interrupted you as he slid his finger over your clit over and over again, making your legs tremble and your brows lower. He might've not been experienced, but he was a quick learner.

  After he got you to a point where you were panting and your pulse hammered relentlessly, he lowered his finger to your entrance, teasing it. You covered your mouth. A thin string, like fishing line, followed his hand as he withdrew. 

  Sinbad began with one finger, your tight walls even hotter than your wetness. Fuck. It felt amazing on his fingers. It might've made him cum instantly if he tried fucking you like that. 

  "Relax your muscles, there's no need to be tense," he said soothingly. 

  You visibly stopped straining and let him push his finger in fully. It circled your smooth cervix. You were pretty shallow inside. 

  He was clueless at that point, unsure of what to do for you. 

  "Curl your finger towards yourself."

  Now you were the one close to his ear, leaning on his shoulders so he could have better access and less lewd sounds would be heard. 

  When he curled it as you said, he felt a spongy tissue that gave way under his prodding. You bit into his shoulder with little regard for how much that shit hurt. It would leave a mark, or even better, a scar. Yay. One more to the arsenal. He would have a hard time explaining that one, as it was in a visible place between his neck and shoulder muscles. 

  He groaned at the pain, pulling you halfway onto him. One hand of his rubbed your clit, and the other, inside you. You must've been leaving a hickey judging by the slight tingle on his neck. It made him harder than he already was. 

  Feeling every little groove inside and outside you couldn't be replicated by just ramming his dick in, and he thanked you that you had made the choice, since he was unwise- in general. 

  "What would your love-struck Knight think, Magister?" He pressed his lips into your shoulder. Slim, but surprisingly muscled from carrying every situation you got into on your shoulders. 

  You'd look good on top of him. With other people, his mind veered into nonsense and mundane thoughts of what he'd have for breakfast. Right now all he could think about was you, you in every way, in every angle, his. Everyone was right- he was greedy. Just not about money. 

  "Getting fingered by someone you met, what, a month ago? If even that?" Sinbad smirked, making sure you saw his expression. You bit your lip and gazed at him like you were oh so woeful. Would you tell the Knight what you'd done tonight? He didn't care if you did or not, but if you did, Sinbad would've loved like to see his face. 

  "He'd be jealous, I bet," you stuttered out with each thrust and curl of his finger, and when he added a second, you were reduced to adorable huffs and sighs, far from the virtuous Magister Merlin out in Rustport streets, a man of class and poise. A man who was now gasping for air with Sinbad's fingers deep in his cunt.

  He kissed from the swell of your chest, up to your collarbones and neck. You were not a man, not a human, you were a dream, a fog a foolish sailor like him would lose himself in.

  Screw him trying to make you never forget him. He'd never forget you, as he fell for you hook, line, and sinker, a fish falling for bait. He would never find someone like you. Someone who so easily saw through his tricks and had him willingly serve. 

  He could do it every night, sneaking in, fucking you whichever way you wanted him to, and acting like nothing was afoot. 

  You got him. 

  He kept gently fingering you as you gasped in an orgasm, one quite notable, your body going soft against his, your skin sticky and heart pounding. 

   What he had done felt automatic, like his body wasn't entirely his, his rhythm mechanical in nature, following your every whim and whine. He had just gotten you off, willingly, giddily, even, and enjoyed it. 

  That had been a first for him. 

  The first thing you said to him once you regained your breath and composure was: "Go wash your hands." 

  What a sweet way to snap him out of it. 

  It was fortunate that you had a bathroom attached to your bedroom. He didn't feel keen on doing a walk of shame through the halls. 

  The mirror revealed to him how hard you'd bitten him, leaving not only a hefty tooth mark, but even a hickey, too high for his scarf to hide. He cursed you inside his mind. All things considered, it was expected to have him do whatever he wanted to you, not the other way around. If you told him to jump into the sea right this second he probably would've done it. A flush was blooming across his face, not too obvious, but there. 

  You were next in the bathroom, and when you returned, Sinbad was on your bed, grinning. He did not budge a muscle.

  "You're not kicking me out again, Magister. This handsome face needs its beauty sleep." 

  "I'll allow it," you said, tucking yourself in on the other side. Sinbad lay curled to take up as little space as possible. It wasn't exactly comfortable. You neared him, tugging his arms around your back, and you entwined under the thick blanket. 

  Hook, line, and sinker. 

  He didn't want the morning to arrive and so cruelly take you away. He'd savor every moment he had with you. For once in his life, he did not feel bound to you by duty, but by the call of his heart, similar to how he felt about the sea. Like the sea, you'd pull him in, and keep him wallowing in feelings so alien. 

  Did you know what you did to him? He didn't need you to. He just needed you close. 

  "Good night," he said. 

  "Seriously this time?" 

  "Seriously, I promise." 

  The lone candle flickered out.

[watercolorfreckles]

The Pretty Prince of Avenglow

This is a secret santa snippet for @thepenultimateword ! Thank you for arranging this fun event for everyone, and for entrusting me with your prompt. I've been in a long writing rut, so this was really tough for me to finish on deadline. But I did it! I know this is far from the best thing I've ever written, but it is something! Hope you like it!

Her prompt was: "Fragile pretty boy x strong/buff lady. He is super smitten with her. This can be a hero x villian universe thing, or a prince and a lady knight, or a captured sailor/aristocrat/etc. and a pirate queen, or whatever you want, I just really love this type of relationship dynamic"

“Well, now, you must be the prettiest piece of treasure I’ve found all year.” 

The prince coughed and spluttered, thrashing at the coils of fishing net that entangled his limbs. His clothes, sodden and leaden, seemed to weigh him to the deck.

“Shh, hush now,” the pirate captain before him spoke again, crouching to his level, balanced deftly on her booted heels. “I take excellent care of my belongings.”

The prince stilled, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. He nearly choked again, though all seawater had since been purged from his lungs. 

The stories he’d heard, the wanted portraits pasted on village walls, paled in comparison to the figure leaning over him: Vespertine Crow, captain of the Evening Star.

His insides swirled.

She was a unique kind of beautiful, with long black hair twisted into a braid loosened and tousled by the sea’s salty breath. The contour of her silhouette struck him as statuesque, strong and muscled and gracefully carved. He imagined that she might be as impenetrable as stone, too.

“H-Hi,” he said dumbly.

Vespertine’s lips spread into an amused smile, sharp as the glittering knife twirling between her fingers. She wiggled her free hand in greeting. “Hi, pretty thing. I have to say, I hardly expected my nets to scoop up the Spare Prince, Evrin of Avenglow, soggy and half-drowned in the middle of the Tempest Sea. How serendipitous.”

As he swallowed, the prince's mouth felt abruptly dry. Though he couldn't see past the railing, he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder toward the sunken wreckage of the ship he'd spent days on, cooped up in a damp and creaky cell.

Captain Vespertine followed his gaze, then tilted her head. “Poor thing. Taken and held for ransom, were you?”

The memories flashed behind Evrin’s eyes. It was while he'd been visiting the village to check on his people that he'd been ambushed near the docks, plucked away from the fragile safety of land to be thrown on board the traitors’ ship.

He'd been helpless, no better than a spoiled house cat tossed into the bath.

Evrin managed a nod.

Vespertine made a pitying sound. “Sweet thing. Sinking that vessel was my doing. Aren't you going to thank me for saving your life?”

The knife in her hand moved and the prince jerked back.

Vespertine paused and tutted. “Now Your Highness, I could have nicked you. ‘Can't go risking that pretty face of yours, you should know better.” Her voice was a balm against the aching burn of him. Soothing, though the chill of it still had enough bite to nip at his nerves.

He stilled once more.

Unpicking the tangles of net with the edge of her blade, Vespertine cut him free.

It reminded him of a bird he'd freed once, legs and wings knotted up in fishing line. The mental comparison warmed his cheeks.

“That's better.” She tugged the shed netting over his head, tossing it aside and straightening onto her feet. A calloused hand extended out to him. “Up you get, pretty.”

Evrin hesitated, eyeing her hand. His limbs felt terribly heavy. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand if he tried. “Thank you, for….saving me.” The end of his sentence lifted into something more like a question.

That startled a soft laugh from the captain. Her eyes glittered with mischief, holding a Tempest Sea of their own. “My pleasure, Highness.”

When he didn't take her hand, Vespertine reached down, hands locking under his arms, and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. Wobbling on weary legs, he caught the pirate's sleeve, looking up at her.

His attention snagged on the fact that she was a few inches taller than him, and certainly far stronger. His belly did a stupid swoop.

“What are you going to do with me?” 

“Mm… That is the question. Let's discuss it in my cabin, shall we?” Draping an arm around him, the pirate captain swept him away, leading him down below deck and into her quarters.

Her will was as irresistible as the moon's will over the tides.

Vespertine gave his chest a light shove and the prince buckled back onto her bed. Catching himself on his hands behind him, his fingers curled around the woolen blanket atop it. It scratched lightly at his fingertips.

Evrin put up no fight, dazed. She drew his gaze with the same allure as the sky and the bottomless sea. Beautiful, dangerous, powerful. Graceful in its dance of crest and fall. 

He watched the captain as she rifled through her closet, pulling out a white, long-sleeved shirt with ties to lace the top, as well as a pair of gray trousers. “Here. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you're out of those clothes.”

The prince's cheeks warmed again. “You…want me to wear your clothes?”

“You're a delicate, skinny little thing, I'm sure you'll fit. Besides.” She unsheathed her sword, leveling it with his chest and using it to lift the fabric above his heart where his crest was attached. The prince's breath caught. “I'll need this from you to prove you're alive if I'm to collect the reward.

“Re…Reward?”

Vespertine shrugged. “I assume they prefer ‘reward’ to ‘ransom.’ One comes with a multitude of fewer threats and scandal. Which do you prefer, Highness?” She pressed the blade a fraction harder into his chest.

The prince itched to skitter away but kept still. “Reward is good,” he breathed.

“Good.” 

She wielded her sword like an extension of her being, fluid and quicker than his eyes could track. There was a slash and then his princely crest was in the captain's hand. His eyes darted down to the bare square on his chest, in the spirit of every novel he'd read where the protagonist had been stabbed or harpooned and was too shocked to process the fatality.

His skin was unmarred.

Vespertine threw the clothes at the prince. “Get dressed, unless you're waiting for me to do it for you. I could be persuaded, if you say pretty please.”

Evrin’s cheeks burned at the thought, casting his gaze away from her and down to the clothes in his hands. Awkwardly, he peeled his shirt over his head.

“Smooth, pampered skin.” Vespertine tutted, sheathing her sword and stepping closer to trace a finger over the soft curve of his shoulder. “You've never seen a day of hardship, have you?”

Prince Evrin shivered, shrugging the clean shirt on. Its weight rested warm and gauzy against his skin. Embarrassed, he shucked his trousers off next, replacing them with the clean pair as quickly as he could manage under the pirate captain's stare. 

“Not many, not of the physical variety, anyway,” he answered.

He straightened the clothes which fit surprisingly well, picking at the laces.

When he looked up again, she was grinning, blatantly pleased. “There, now. isn't that better? You look like a proper pirate. Very pretty.”

“Like you? I mean-” the prince squirmed, shifting to stand, then changing his mind. Submissive. “Sorry.”

She laughed again. “Sorry? For thinking I'm pretty? I'm flattered, sweetheart. You're quite lovely yourself. Now. Back to business.”

“...business?”

“Well, if I'm to return you safely, I expect a reward of… proper proportions. There's the money, yes, but I want something more from you.”

“O-Oh?”

Vespertine plopped onto the bed beside him, turning to face him. “Firstly, I want a pardon. A clean slate I can dirty all over again when it suits me.” She winked at him, and his heart fluttered between his ribs. “Secondly. Your brother took something from me. I want it back. You will get it for me.”

Transfixed, Evrin studied her face. “What did he take?”

She leaned closer to him, her gaze sharpening into something a fraction more dangerous. “My child.”

Evrin’s eyes widened. “Your child? Who–” He paused. “Iara? He said that she was an orphan; that he took her in to spare her a life of hardship and inequity.”

“Your brother lied.” Her voice was the crack of a whip; lightning striking water. When the prince startled, she softened only a fraction, looking him up and down. “You are…kinder than your brother, I can tell. Mousy, certainly, but. Sweet.”

“He is better fit to be king,” Evrin whispered. “Bolder and stronger and braver.”

“But crueler. Are you cruel, Prince Evrin?”

It seemed, suddenly, as though he was balancing on a very thin wire. He watched her face, tracking her every underlying thought.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Captain Vespertine smiled, the flash of a victory banner, and sat back. “Good. Tell me, Pretty. Spare Prince of Avenglow. How would you like to be king?”

Merry Christmas!

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[missycolorful]

I'm on the fence about a lot of the "glass child" discussion because where I agree with some points that are made and enjoy the in depth analysis, I've come to severely disagree with others. Mostly because the internet is the internet, and the nuanced discussion has lost that nuance.

The reason this whole thing blew up (though it's been a concern for a while, certainly) was when Phil explained why he felt he needed to save Tallulah first before Chayanne. And you could tell Philza was trending cautious waters with his wording - he never wanted to say "oh, Chayanne's a chad, he'll get over it." With his wording, he recognized that neither were necessarily fine, but he still felt it necessary to prioritize one over the other because of one of his kid's big issues: Tallulah has abandonment issues. Maybe they're not as bad now since the "official adoption," but it certainly shouldn't be disregarded. But Phil remembers how much Tallulah hates being left alone, and wanted to make sure she wasn't in that situation long. Phil knew at the of the day, that Chayanne had no severe abandonment issues (that we are aware of), hence him saying he'd be okay "a bit longer." The prioritization is still there, and the Death family still has much to talk about, but the fandom's reactions felt a bit too... harsh, a bit too severe. They'd make it sound like Phil didn't consider Chayanne's feelings at all or that he thought Chayanne was totally going to be 100% okay with being alone forever and ever. When there's more to it than that, and ultimately, Phil was stuck making a decision in a lose-lose situation, and he knew that.

But a lot of people seem to focus solely on this moment, and let it epitomize the entirety of the Death Family's relationship and struggles. When, if anything, there's additional moments from yesterday's stream alone that I think show some slow growth in Philza's parenting when it comes to him being overprotective of Tallulah and him expecting a protector/warrior out of Chayanne.

Because if Phil really thought Chayanne was a ruthless warrior who can handle anything and be fine and get over it, he'd have let Chayanne immediately join them in their journey of saving Richarlyson. Like "If we've got Chayanne with us, nothing can hold us back" or something. But he didn't. He wanted both of his children to stay back, to stay safe. But his kids insisted on joining, even if just for emotional support. And if Phil really was completely stuck in his old ways, he'd say the old "Chayanne protect your sister" when the mobs starting showing up, or hell, even before that. But that never once happens. Both of his kids fight, and he trusted that they could both handle themselves since they insisted on coming along, though you can see him check on both of his kids once or twice during the fight. If this becomes a persistent thing, it shows great growth in Phil's character when it comes to being overprotective of his daughter and having his son prioritize her safety above all else. It's become more of "keep an eye on each other," which is definitely the preferrable kind of thinking!

And again, I emphasize that singular moments should not be the sole focus of these discussion. Rather, the overall actions throughout should be talked about. And honestly, Phil made sure that a lot of his focus was divided between both of his children throughout yesterday. When Chayanne decided to stay behind while the others went to the beach event to keep an eye on an AFK Tubbo, Phil decided to "hang about with you, kid, it's alright," even when Tallulah was long gone. Like, he wasn't going to let his kid sit alone like that waiting! Or when he got the llama plushie during the treasure hunt, I'd honestly have expected him to immediately give it to Tallulah because animals=Tallulah, I guess. But he asked them both which of them would have liked it more, a genuine attempt to make sure neither felt left out in receiving the gift. Yes, these, too, are small moments, but if we wanna have a discussion about these relationships, all these moments should at least be considered, not just the negatives.

And to me, the kind of consensus to make in these scenarios is that the situation at hand is... complicated. Like, Phil's parenting is flawed, I'd be a fool to say otherwise. All parenting is inherently flawed, that's basic psychology or... just how humans work. However, through his faults, he tries everything he is able to to do best by these kids. So, with all these moments and more, it never sat right with me to say Phil neglects Chayanne. I can almost see the case for "emotional neglect" a bit more, but even then, I find some fault in that thinking. Yes, qPhil is neurodivergent af, so he doesn't get emotional context clues and needs these discussion to be upfront in his face (which I already went into depth here regarding the relationship these two have). Put simply, any "emotional neglect" Chayanne feels isn't necessarily from Phil prioritizing Tallulah, but more so where Tallulah is more open with her feelings which makes it easier for Phil to talk to her about them, Chayanne has rarely ever been someone who opens up about feelings, and when you couple that with Phil's lack of emotional intelligence, these issues clash. However, it's important to note that a while ago, Chayanne had an open dialogue with Philza about Tubbo's death and how it affected him, and Phil was responsive to it. It'd be one thing if he told Chay to get over it, but no, he was very honest and kind to Chayanne during their talk. And afterward, Phil suggested for Chayanne that, if he ever needs to talk, to have them sit at the pier outside of their house. He extended an offering to Chayanne for emotional discussions. It was a great way for both of these people who are terrible at talking about their emotions to come together and talk. It highlights how Phil is very much okay with talking to Chayanne on an emotional level, and he has, and he will continue to be. They're just... both bad at it, sadly.

Finally, I think it's important to clarify what a glass child actually is, and if it fits the current narrative. A glass child is a child who is overlooked when their sibling is facing some sort of disability that makes the parent give the sibling their full attention, and often has the glass child help out a lot. Initially, Tallulah very much needed extra care due to her "asthma" and the fact she wasn't a great fighter who could protect herself. Hence why Phil and Chayanne were so overprotective of her and put a lot of focus on her. And for the longest time, Chayanne was okay with it, because she needed that help to survive on this hellish island. It's just that over time, things changed. These characters changed.

So it's not really like that for Tallulah now, is it? Her asthma is no longer as bad (it still happens, though!), and she's gained a lot of fighting experience over time. She can hold her own in a fight. And Phil no longer keeps that much of a paranoid eye on her; i.e. again, yesterday's stream where, even when they were fighting end monsters, he never shouted for her to get away or for Chayanne to protect her. In the early days, if Tallulah was even allowed to join, he'd have her stand back and ask Chayanne to keep an eye on her. But that doesn't happen here.

So nowadays? No, I don't think Chayanne could be considered a glass child. Because those disabilities aren't as much of a hindrance for Tallulah as they used to, and Phil isn't as paranoid about them as before. I think the effects are still there, in a way, but it doesn't fit where the characters currently stand. Ultimately, I think there are several reasons as to why things are as they are even if Chayanne may not be a glass child in the present. The big one being that Phil's not entirely adapted to the changes his children have gone through.

Especially after Purgatory, his children have gone through a lot and changed in the process; Tallulah became more independent, and Chayanne kind of being tired of being a warrior and needing more emotional support. And since he wasn't there to witness that change and only saw the aftermath, I think it's a struggle for him to come to terms with them. However, that doesn't mean he's entirely set in old ways. He's trained Tallulah on PVP, and again, he's allowed her to participate in fights without being super worried. And as I mentioned, he has extended a branch for Chayanne to be more open with his feelings. These are just starts, certainly, but it means that Phil is open to adapting and helping both of his kids in any way they need. He just has to figure out what they need.

And let me be clear: I'm not disregarding the flaws in q!Phil's parenting. They exist, and Chayanne really needs to have an open discussion about how his emotional needs haven't quite been met as of recent, and Phil needs to be more open to have emotional discussions with Chayanne, even if to them, that's like pulling teeth. There's changes and improvements that need to be made. However, in talking about the negatives, it just seems like people think that's all there is. No, these flaws in Phil's parenting doesn't make him a bad parent. Because there are plenty of positives, plenty of decent growth here. There's love and respect and everything in this family. q!Phil is genuinely doing his best in a very difficult scenario: living on an island that is set on killing the eggs, and being a parent of two while basically being a single parent all while struggling with your own traumas. that's going to come with obstacles, it's inevitable, but what's also inevitable is how this family will work through them, and come out of this better than before.

[blankie-greenie-anon]

Listen. I'm not saying ThinkFast should be soulmates. And I don't think they should get married.

I just think they had a very interesting dynamic that the comics should've fully explored, first in a platonic context, then a romantic one. Show us what these two brought to each other's lives.

Then a huge event happens; ThinkFast are paired up for a mission. And during the mission, they make some unethical decisions. Speed's comfortable committing them, Prodigy not so much, but he gets less reluctant with Speed's encouragement. They succeed at their task, the event is resolved, everyone rejoices.

But then, the weight of their actions hit David. He doesn't like that he was able to sacrifice his ethics and enjoy it. He still remembers the vision – where he went mad with power and valued results over life. It scares him that Tommy could make him let go, even for a short moment. David doesn't blame him. He believes Tommy is fine as he is, but David is afraid of what he could become if they stayed together.

So David says he wants to break up. Tommy doesn't take it well. Sure, he's used to everyone being worried about him being the "sociopath" of the Young Avengers, but David was one of the few people who accepted him as he was, and Tommy got used to that. And suddenly David wasn't okay with it. David says that's not the point; it's okay for Tommy to stay the way he is, but David's afraid any possibility of losing his morality. To Tommy, that means there cannot be any possibility of him in David's life. From them on, Prodigy and Speed stop teaming up.

They avoid each other, but they can't help thinking about each other from time to time. Tommy remembers facts David had once told him. David uses speed-related information he learnt from observing Tommy. It makes them miss each other. They had so much fun when they were dating. When they do bump into each other again, and there's alcohol in vicinity, they end up making out. But when they come to their senses, they both understand they cannot get back together.

Then David fulfills his destiny of becoming Patrinot, who then helps Tommy fulfil his destiny of becoming Time. In the one brief moment they could share together, David tells Tommy he's glad he could do this for him. After Tommy becomes Time, he finds Billy. They use their combined powers as the Demiurge to save David's soul and have him pre-incarnated.

[arttsuka]

Ok here are my thoughts about arcane season 2, buckle up

I wana say, I liked the second season, less about what we saw, more about the story they wanted to tell.

It started fine but as soon as episode 4 came the problem was clear. The pacing was bad. Everything was happening too fast, there was no time for smaller moments. A lot of character development was off screen too.

I've heard they were supposed to have more seasons but decided last minute to cut the show short because 'there are more stories to be told'.

Caitlyn had most of her arc off screen which is such a shame, I really wanted to see how she realized she was being manipulated, I wanted to see her dictatorship era. But we got none of that, it's implied it happened but we didn't get to see it.

Sevika was relevant up until ep4 and then we see her again in ep8. I don't think she has any speaking lines after ep4. Such a waste of her character, she was really interesting.

Isha. She came to the series as suddenly as she left. I have a lot of problems with her character, one of them being that she wasn't introduced organically. She randomly fell on Jinx (by accident). Arcane relies way too much on 'right place right time', on coincidences so, when that can be avoided, it definitely should. Make her fall on top of the first person that passed through on purpose so she won't get hurt (that person being Jinx is the only coincidence here). Her sacrifice felt a bit unearned because we didn't get to see her a lot, and after ep6, they never speak of her again (it affected Jinx sure but they don't even mention her once).

Mel. They did her dirty this season. They speedruned her arc (and the whole thing felt so out of place). I've heard that maybe the next show was going to be focused on Noxus etc which, if it turns out to be true, would be a bad decision. If they are actually planning on making something about Noxus, I'd at least expect Ambessa to be there and also, it would be a great opportunity to learn about Mel and her powers in greater detail instead of whatever we got.

Viktor as the herald, ultimate life form or whatever was so short lived. Make you wonder why they decided to include it only in the last episode instead of implementing a bit earlier.

Vi was also so, useless this season. She did almost nothing. She was a punching bag for the most of it.

Jinx felt a bit ooc, less about what she was doing and more about how there wasn't any time to see her get over Silco's death. Silco had such a negative effect on her mental health (all these hallucinations from s01) but he dies and boom, mentally stable? I would have liked to see her become healthier (it would also tie nicely with getting to know Isha better).

Vander. They brought him back. It was actually foreshadowed in the first season. Him being back is not my problem, on the contrary I think it was a great way to naturally bring Vi and Jinx back together. My problem was how we see him for 2 episodes (and then he 'dies'). It felt like a waste of time honestly, time that could have been used to see something else.

Episode 6 has to be the worst episode of the whole show. The pacing is pretty bad. The events that take place in it feel like 3 episodes, not 1. We get not 1 but 2 different artstyle montages, making the episode look, weird...

The best episodes were probably ep03 and ep07. Both had nice pacing (especially ep07, it felt like it was straight out of s01) and the story explored in them was pretty captivating. But I do have a problem with ep07. It's where Ekko got his 'time powers' from and honestly, they were pretty underwhelming? Also not at all well implemented to the story. We literally see him use them 3 times. 1: when he finds out about them, 2: when he saves Jinx and 3: when he goes back to try not to get captured by Viktor's mannequins. The last 2 on the same episode. That 4-second-limit was never really relevant (at least I don't think it's was). They wasted an entire episode giving him powers only for him to never really use them and for the machine to act as a bomb.

Also I didn't like the dancing scene with Powder and Ekko. I understand the vision behind it but I felt like my TV was dropping frames. It felt choppy, cheap (such a shame for a beautiful scene).

Now, I liked the lesbian sex scene in ep8, I really did, but it felt so out of place. Jinx basically implied she was going to kill herself, Vi was on the verge of tears because she was insecure about how she seemed to only make the wrong choices and then, that scene happens. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I've seen people compare it to the s01 'Jayce/Mel vs Viktor dying' scene and while I understand where the comparison is coming from it's definitely not the same. In that scene, Jayce didn't know Viktor was dying (he knew about his deteriorating health, but he was clearly shocked and left Mel to go check out on him etc etc).

Also, Caitlyn should have gone down on Vi. I think they image would have been stronger. Vi was at the bottom of the barrel her entire life (literal plot point, being from the undercity etc) so seeing Caitlyn, someone of higher status and power, being the one to 'bow' would just be more powerful. Just a thought.

I just feel like I liked their relationship and dynamics more in s01. They had more casual moments, more natural dialogue. Yes we won but at what cost? Their relationship was so sweet in s01. In s02 it started sweet, turned out to be manipulative on Caitlyns side*, they break up and then they're fine again.

*in ep3 it's clearly shown that while Caitlyn loves Vi she's willing to manipulate her to reach her own goals. That first kiss we see was definitely more of a 'I'm gonna play with your emotions so you don't doubt me' rather than 'let's just kiss now'.

I liked how Jinx cut her hair. The whole 'hair holds memories' and how she was ready to move on. Too sad that scene didn't have the proper gravity it deserved because the lesbian sex was happening (probably) the same time.

Ep9 was, something. I'm conflicted about it. On one hand I really liked how they tied up Viktor's and Jayce's plot lines, on the other hand everything else was so rushed. Caitlyn and Mel were a team (they didn't feel like one honestly), they fought Ambessa and then she randomly died from the black rose. It felt like they just wanted an excuse to kill her. 'She needed to die so Mel could become the wolf' no, not really. She could still be alive, have Mel 'spare her life' or something. It would be more on track with Mel's ideals that way.

Jinx sacrificing herself to save Vi was also so forced**. It felt specifically written so she could 'die'. I do believe that 'Jinx is alive' theory because Caitlyn looking at the vents while holding that monkey head Jinx's bomb had + that air balloon Powder said she'd fly away with are all too specific to be coincidences.

**her sacrifice was forced but foreshadowed. Isha was acting as an 'archetype' of what Jinx had to become. Her whole existence in the show was so Jinx could become an icon for Zauns revolution and for her to sacrifice herself so Jinx could see and do the same, break the cycle.

What really bothered me was how Jayce and Viktor seemed to be the only characters who had a complete story, everyone else had a lot missing scenes (they did too but way less, there never was a point where I thought 'where does this come from?', everythingwas explained about them. I wish I could say the same about the 'arcane', magic). It's so unfair, on the female lead show about 2 sisters for the male characters to be the final focus. Also another thing that bothered me how they did a seemingly better job at writing Ekko/Powder, the straight ship we got to see for 1 episode on a different timeline, rather that Vi/Caitlyn, the lesbian ship AND main focus since they're both main characters from the timeline were following.

Something else, I feel like the score for s01 was better/more memorable than s02. Sure s02 has some pretty good songs but s01 felt more diverse on that? Maybe that's just me.

Kinda lazy how they used the same song for the opening credits while using visuals way too similar (if not the same) to the artstyle of the show. Although, truth to be told, the s01 opening was way too good for any standards, it would be very hard if not impossible to make something better. Still, I feel like they could have done a better job.

Also maybe that's just me but there were a lot of predicable moments. Sometimes a scene would start playing and I'd know exactly where it was going (something I can't say for season 1).

I really liked in s01 how in each episode, before the opening, we got to see some glimpses from the past of each character. It was a great way not to have too many random flashbacks and include these scenes organically in each episode. In season 2 we don't get that. I understand that we already know these characters but it's still something I adored from s01.

What made s01 so appealing was how they handled the story, didn't rush things. How they took their time to make us understand and like the characters. With s02 we didn't get that luxury.

Season 1 was a masterpiece and unfortunately, season 2 didn't meet the expectations.

I still enjoyed watching it but it was definitely not as good as the experience of watching s01.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My Sweetheart: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

A/N: I’m obsessed with sweetheart bracelets and I hope to purchase one some day. This idea came to mine while I was looking at some online. Also, look, I’m writing for Bucky again! uuuhhh i guess this is a mini series.

You'd been eyeing the bracelet for a month now. Ever since you came across the little antique shop in Brooklyn, you've been coming twice a week just to make sure the bracelet was still there. It was a gold stretch bracelet. In the middle, the charm was heart shaped and had a cute but simple design of a flower etched into it. It was $150 and you're somewhat surprised it doesn't cost more. Looks like it's in great condition, looks practically brand new. Nonetheless, you needed to save up for it. Living in New York wasn't cheap.

After you visited the shop for the fourth time in a row, the shop owner, Stan, said he'd keep it on hold for you since he knows you plan to buy it.

"No rush, sweetheart. I know you're good for it."

"How? You barely know me?" you can't help but ask the old man.

He shrugs, "I just know."

"Well thank you, so much. I really appreciate it. I get paid again in two weeks. After I pay bills, I should have enough for it."

He gives you a wave, "I'll see you in two weeks then."

___________________

Once your paycheck was deposited, you paid your bills in an instant. With the rest, you practically skipped to Brooklyn, ready to buy the bracelet.

You enter the store with a big smile towards Stan, "I'm ready."

He claps his hands together, "Congrats!" he goes to the back and brings out the bracelet. You gently pick it up and slide it over your wrist. It fits perfectly. It's not heavy. It's just...perfect.

You pay Stan in cash and you give the old man a hug, "Seriously, thank you so much for holding this for me. I just-I don't know what it is about this bracelet. It's so beautiful, like it was calling me."

"Probably because it was calling you. It's special, just like you."

You give him a wave as you exit the store. You watch your new bracelet gleaming in the New York sun. It's gorgeous.

_______________

At the end of the day, you get ready for bed. You take off the sweetheart bracelet and place it on your nightstand. You slip into bed and as your head hits the pillow, the sink in your bathroom turns on.

You shoot up, turning to the bathroom with wide eyes. You turn on the light and see your bathroom door wide open. You grab the pocket knife you have on your night stand, armed and ready in case an intruder some how snuck into your apartment without you noticing.

Once you approach your bathroom, you turn on your light and see no one. You look down at your sink and twist the handle that controls running water. The water stops for a millisecond before it's on again.

"What the-" you turn it off again and it turns on again. You leave it on, watching in confusion and slight fear. As the water grows hotter, steam starts to form.

That's when you jump back, wide eyed and suddenly frozen.

FIND JAMIE.

"Okay. Um, I don't know who Jamie is, whoever you are. But can I know who you are?"

DOT.

"Dot who?"

You wait for the steam from the water to cover the message. A minute goes by and then another, "Uh, hello? Dot?" You slowly reach out for the sink handle, turning the water off. It stays off.

You slowly shake your head, "I must be really sleepy," you head back to your bed. After turning off the light, you pull the covers over your head and fall asleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you're a little groggy, but well rested. You look towards your bathroom and suddenly remember the events before you went to sleep.

Surely, that was all just a dream right? Just a really weird dream.

You shake your head and slip the bracelet onto your wrist, proceeding to get ready.

_________________

"It's not a ring..yet, anyways," he smiles as his girl admires the bracelet on her wrist, a sign of his love and adoration for her.

"It's so beautiful," she looks up from the bracelet, "You really shouldn't have spent your money on me like this, Jamie."

He shrugs, "I don't care. I just...I wanted to give you something to remember me by. Just in case, you know?"

She shakes her head at what he was insinuating, "You're coming back to me. I'll write to you...I'll wait for you."

"I wouldn't be mad if you don't though," he gives her an understanding look.

She shakes her head again, "I'm waiting for you, Jamie. You don't have to worry."

"I love you, Dolores Millard."

"I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You come back to me, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he mumbles as he seals his promise with a kiss.

[renren-006]

No More Secrets | Bruce Wayne x fem reader

plot: The reader already knows he's Batman, but maybe Bruce already knows that you know?

word count: 749

a/n: hey! I know a ton of you enjoyed my other Bruce story but here is a second one to add to the list! hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @rosecentury

You knew Bruce was Batman before he ever told you. After he had almost thrown himself off a building to save your life, you knew. You watched him fake smiles at events, and when he sweet talked the people in Wayne tower, you could see the man in the mask. At every event you saw him itching to get back out to the streets, you felt it when he would excuse the two of you early from parties just to drop you off at your apartment with a kiss and leave into the night. It angered you, how he never told you, so much so that you blew up at him after one of his parties. 

It was another social gathering put on by some wealthy business owner in Gotham, someone you knew you would have to write about for the paper the next morning so you tried to get a few words out of him. You could feel Bruce's impatience as it got closer and closer to 9 o’clock.  When it was at the hour he came up to you, as you were talking to a few of his business partners about their lives and stories.

“I'm so sorry but It's getting late and my lovely girlfriend here has to be up early for work tomorrow” he said, kissing your head as he whisked you away from the businessman. Burice wasn't a jealous type, and you knew that because he would defend you with his mask if anyone ever tried anything. As you were walking away from the party you could feel the slight tugs from him to keep you moving and once you were in the car, not a word left your mouth. 20 minutes later you were on the other side of town way faster than the law allowed and you stepped out of the car with a slam of the door. 

“What's wrong?” Bruce asked over the hood of the car. 

“Nothing. Goodnight Bruce”

“You've been short with me all night, something must be wrong?” He said walking towards you on the street. A light drizzle had started to fall from the sky, dotting his jacket. 

“I can't do this Bruce…” you said, looking away from him. 

“Can't do what sweetheart?” he said, pulling your face to look at him again. You raised your hand over his eyes. 

“I can't date you, and know that there's another side to you that you won't tell me about” you told him as the drizzling rain became harder. You let your hand fall down and he was looking at you with surprise. “I'm not an idiot, Bruce Wayne. You think I don't put together that the man I loved was Batman, savior of Gotham?”

“I did, I just…I didn't think it would be this hard to tell you”

“Why would it be hard to tell me, if you knew I had already figured it out?” You asked. 

“Because what if you left? Or what if I told you the truth for certainty and you would be in more danger because of it?”

“Bruce! You can't protect me from everything” you told him, annoyed his answer was always putting your life above his or the relationship you both had together. 

“I have to”

“No. All you have to do is make sure I can protect myself when your not there”

“What?”

“Just…Bruce just train me to know how to defend myself so if something happens like the roof again, i'll be able to at least fight till you get there”

“I can do that sweetheart” he told you. “Why don't I stay with you tonight?”

“And give up prowling the city”

“For you? Always. I should put you first before the city, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be out in this weather anyways” Bruce said with a chuckle. Knowing that these storms that blow through Gotham never let up till the next day.

“It's alright. Tell me the truth next time when you want to leave”“What if the reason I want to leave has nothing to do with defending the city?” “Then I guess the city can't wait for the night. Right Batman?” You asked as you swished your hips into your apartment building. Bruce smiled, locking the car and heading up to your apartment. Whether you watched a movie and paid attention was anyone's guess, but the rain didn't let up for the entire night. You trapped the Batman in your apartment and blamed it on the weather.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: My excuse for writing this is that 99% of my problems would be solved if I were adopted by Vil and Rook, plus it's October so my mind automatically went to several different scenarios involving vampires, you know. Though in the original draft Epel would just kill the reader mercilessly, but I decided to spoil myself a little and made it platonic instead. I'm not sure if I'll do a Halloween event yet, let me know what y'all think about it please. Part two.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, RookVi + Epel being their son, gn!reader, some randoms die, description of blood and members though it's not that explicit, reader gets surprised adopted, I think that's all. Let me know if I should add more warnings tho.

You never thought you would miss the sun and its gentle, joyful rays. You never thought you'd miss walking down busy streets and hearing people talking over each other, but in that moment you thought about all these completely mundane things as you ran as fast as your lungs would let you and your legs could carry you.

Whose idea was it to enter the abandoned mansion? You couldn't even remember anymore, panting, leaning on one of the walls to keep yourself upright. What mattered now was where you would escape and how, and if it was really possible. Your pursuers weren't exactly human as they did well to demonstrate by ripping out your friend's throat, laughing as the blood dripped from their fangs.

Maybe, you thought, heart pounding against your ears as you looked from side to side searching for one of the vampires, maybe I could break one of the windows and escape from here.

It wasn't a spectacular plan, but in your head filled with adrenaline and fear it made complete sense. There was no time for "what ifs", there was the here and now. And with that thought you forced yourself to walk once again, holding back the tears of grief and fear inside you, clinging to the futile hope that you would survive the night.

You opened one of the thousands of doors in that dimly lit hallway, biting your lip hard as you forced your eyes to see through the darkness in search of a window. But there was nothing there, no window, no bed or anything, just a very strange smell and the disconcerting sound of a clock.

The air around you seemed to change and you turned around feeling like something or someone had touched your shoulder. Your hand fumbled for the doorknob and you ran out faster than the devil running from the cross, leaving behind only a glimpse of blood and guts that you probably hadn't even noticed. But later perhaps you would understand.

The seconds dragged by, the blonde vampire's laugh still echoing in your mind as your friend asked for help, the expression on your other friends' faces frozen as they tried to escape. The look of disbelief on one of their faces as you abandoned him in order to save yourself.

You no longer knew how many doors you opened, how many exactly the same rooms you entered, how many times had you felt as if someone was watching your futile efforts to survive while silently laughing at your fearful humanity in the face of death. But you were already exhausted and your pursuers hadn't even found you yet - or, on the other hand, maybe they had but didn't want to kill you yet, like a cat playing with a mouse before ending its life.

In the distance, you saw a small silhouette. His lavender hair and almost angelic appearance would have made you trust him if you hadn't seen what he was capable of doing.

For a second, you thought he hadn't seen you and started to slowly walk away, praying that it was just a legend that vampires had super hearing. One foot behind the other, left then right. But then he looked at you, his little eyes seeming to sparkle and he laughed, loudly, extremely loudly.

Without thinking twice, you turned your back to where you had come, running as fast as you could across the little terrain you knew, every place memorized in your mind as you heard his approaching footsteps and cynical laughs. Every second passing like a cinematic scene in which the protagonist is chased by the killer in a generic horror film, everything jumbled together in your head as you panted and ran, and did it all over again.

You allowed yourself to look over your shoulder when everything went silent and the boy was no longer there. But even though you couldn't see him, you could hear him laughing and whispering something to someone else, to another vampire.

You were running too fast to stop when you reached the end of one of the hallways, crashing into one of the walls and sending a hanging mirror crashing to the floor, glass flying everywhere as you forced yourself to stand up and ignore the pain, quickly looking left and right to see where to go.

It makes a difference? You thought bitterly.

But you got back to your feet, tired, sweaty, in all your stupidity you raised your arms and screamed full of frustration. "I'm here, come kill me if you want, oh, mighty vampires."

Just silence and dark. You really felt like a mouse, searching for the cat's paws to avoid being crushed, searching for the cat's fangs to avoid being sucked to death, but the cat didn't seem to care about you enough. Or, initially that was what the feline wanted you to think, but footsteps were heard all around you, behind you, beside you, in front of you, you were surrounded and now they were really coming.

At least I'll punch one of them, you thought with a small smile.

"You're quite troublesome, mortal." A soft voice sounded in your ear, making you shiver all over and turn back to look for its owner. It was the same voice that announced their death to your friends, the same voice that in any other context would have made you smile, as it was a beautiful voice. "Swallow those tears, human, before I give you a reason to cry. Their deaths are your fault, your own death will be your fault for breaking into the home of the night lords and thinking such a transgression will go unpunished."

You touched your eyes and were surprised to notice small tears falling from your eyes, the vampire's words slowly resonating in your mind. It wasn't your idea to come here, but you didn't dissuade your friends even though you knew the legend that surrounded the house. Was it really your fault?

Fatigue seemed to finally be taking over your heavy bones, despite you trying with all your might to keep your concentration and hatred burning within you, despite you trying not to accept the fact that you would die that night.

"Do you practice this speech every day in front of the mirror?" You retorted, lips trembling as they curved into a wry smile.

A laugh. He was laughing at you like you were just a kid who was using the silliest insult they learned to offend people. "Is that the best you can imagine?"

You looked at him, tall, blond, wondering if such a freak had ever been human, wondering how someone could lose their morals so frivolously and take pleasure in killing and dismembering humans for fun. And you didn't answer him, biting your tongue hard to keep from shouting insults.

"Oh, but Roi du Poison, they're so cute." Another voice echoed, this time you felt a hand gently smoothing your hair with fingers so light you swore they were made of feathers, the pale face resting just above your shoulder, freezing you in the same second as the two of you made eye contact. "Can't we keep them instead?"

Rook still half hugging you, half enjoying the smell of your blood; his arms tightened around your waist as you tried to push him away with all the strength you could muster. Pushing and clawing his shoulders away, trying to kick him and fighting him.

But he felt like a block of concrete, motionless, hard and smiling so gently at you and your efforts. His hands continued twirling strands of your hair and drinking in your expression of discomfort, as if all this were normal.

"Yes please." The same boy from before asked, an excited gleam passing through his eyes as he looked from you to the other vampire. "You promised me I would have a little sibling."

Little sibling…?

If you hadn't had a vampire literally holding you so tenderly but firmly in that moment, his face resting on your neck, maybe you would have laughed and screamed that you wouldn't be the sibling of a murderer and that if you could you would kill them all with a stake. Or, anything sharp you had on hand.

But you held back, taking deep breaths, just waiting for the right moment to act. Maybe some of your other friends had managed to escape and would come back soon to help you.

The vampire, Vil, looked at your tired figure with attentive eyes. Excruciating moments passed in total silence, you being unable to hear your own heavy breathing or the way your heart beat as you waited.

You waited for his attack, for his mocking laugh. Your hands closed ready to hit the face of the first vampire who dared to try to bite you. It was foolish to think that this would do anything, if anything it would make them angry and kill you more slowly to see you suffer.

Vil looked at Rook, watching how he was intoxicated by the smell of your sweet blood and they both looked at each other, talking, arguing silently while Epel looked at his dads impatiently, shifting his weight from one leg to another, eager for an answer.

"Or you can let me go." You argued. "I promise I won't tell anyone anything."

But the three men completely ignored you, deaf to your suggestions and blind to your justified fear. Rook slowly released his tight grip on your waist and you felt as if you could breathe again, as if pressure had left your entire body, which was paralyzed.

"They're in your capable hands, son." Vil stated, hands resting on his hips as he looked at the boy.

Not so subtly, you move away from the reach of Rook's nimble arms, feeling exposed as all the vampires look at you. A different look; a look you don't give at your food, the bile in your stomach began to stir and you took a deep breath.

Epel, the youngest vampire, moved. His footsteps being so silent against the floorboards that if you took your eyes off him you wouldn't be able to see him approach.

"I was like you a long time ago," He murmured, baring his fangs in a small smile too intimidating to be casual. "but you don't need to be afraid, y'know"

"I don't kill people." You countered. "I'm not a monster like you."

Epel smiled once more, his eyes shining with recognition. "Every new vampire says that. I said that too and you say it now, but in the future you will kill, because that's what we do to survive."

One second he was in front of you and the next he was gone, leaving behind only a bad feeling of not knowing which side he would attack from. Rook and Vil watch the events unfold from a safe distance.

You forced your ears to work to their fullest, searching everywhere for him.

Suddenly, you heard him step on the shards of broken glass and you turned around, your closed fist making direct contact with his face. Epel staggered in surprise as if he didn't expect you to fight back, but soon he looked at you and smiled.

It was actually a dance, the way you dodged and tried to attack him. But the problem with dancing is that it requires good physical condition and you were running for a long time, running to get to that damn house and then running to try to escape the house, a false step took you to the ground in moments and Epel pressed his foot on your stomach keeping you pinned to the ground.

You continued to fight with all your might, but he was relentless. As immobile as Rook, so impossible to escape and face to face with your death, tears of anger and helplessness flowed from your eyes in abundance against your will.

You wouldn't be graced with death like your friends, but it would be a death all the same. A death without sunlight, destined to know that the people who care about you would be looking for you, looking for your body, without knowing what really happened that Halloween night.

"We'll have a lot of fun when you wake up, lil sib." He whispered, it was supposed to be something comforting, but it sounded extremely condescending.

Despite the difference in height between you and him, you felt smaller, much smaller in the face of the impotence and strength of that delirious look. "When you wake up I will show you the best plains, the best hunting places and you will understand everything from my perspective."

"I'll kill you when I wake up." You promised him, dryly, firmly.

And you don't break your promises.

Epel ignored your words as he knelt beside you, cold fingers holding your hands without much effort as his face moved closer and closer to your neck. His pink lips brushed against your skin.

"You fought well, but you must accept your defeat."

He bit your neck before you could retort, injecting his vampiric venom that would kill you in a few minutes, laying your body on the ground once again. The boy remained sitting next to you, watching every pained expression pass across your face and trying to remember if he reacted the same way.

A lot of time had passed and he couldn't remember. Soon, you wouldn't remember your unfounded fear either, soon, you and he could do what siblings do, whatever that is. For the past five hundred years he has been his dads' only child, but Epel likes to think he will make a good big brother to you.

"Sweet dreams, Yuu."

[nathanielzalexandria]

Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

--------------------------------------------------

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

[vodika-vibes]

Okay for the 650 follower event. I'm thinking something spicy~

Maybe Alpha or Boba in a Western AU ( Bonus points, though not required, if you can work in careful princess if you use Boba 🙈)

Fancy

Summary: Jabba, an absolute slug of a man, has been ruling the small town that you call home for your entire life. When you hear about the new bounty hunter in his employ, you fear the worst. Though, as it happens, Boba Fett isn’t half the monster that you feared.

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader

AU Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 2444

Warnings: Reader runs a brothel, smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Alright, I wasn't able to add the actual smut part without it throwing off the flow of the story, but it goes right up to the smut part and then stops. I hope you like it. Also, when I wrote it I was picturing ROTJ Boba.

“Madame,” You lift your gaze from your ledger at the soft voice of one of your girls, “I...have you heard?”

“I hear a lot of things,” You reply, scanning the girl for any visible injuries, before dropping your gaze back to your ledger, a frown pulling your lips down. Once Jabba takes his cut, you’re going be barely make any profit this week.

“Honorable Jabba has hired a new bounty hunter.” You lift your gaze again. You hadn’t heard that. “Do you...will he be...do you think he’ll be like the other ones?”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, “But so long as you’re nice to the gentleman-”

“They’ll be nice to me, yes Madame, I know.” The girl, because that is what she is, only recently nineteen, smooths her long skirts and straightens her corset, “We will be opening soon?”

“We will. All of you have been reserved for the evening. With familiar names,” You reassure, and you’re relieved to see some of the tension drain from her shoulders. “Off you trot,” You don’t turn your gaze back to the ledger until you hear the soft click of her bedroom door shutting behind her.

And then you drop your gaze back to the numbers in your book.

Maybe, with some careful editing, you can make Jabba believe that you made less money then you actually did. And then you’ll be able to afford the food that your girls need to survive.

It’s not as if the slug himself checks your numbers.

And his accountant has always had a soft spot for you, and your home.

You are the sole owner and proprietor of the Desert Rose, the only brothel in the town of Old Ashton. You used to be a regular employee, yourself, until some clever gambling and even more clever money hiding allowed you to buy the previous owner out.

So now you protect the girls to the best of your ability.

Unfortunately, the best of your ability isn’t good enough.

You close your ledger with a snap and slid it into the locked drawer in your desk, and stand. You smooth your dark green skirt and make sure your corset is laced properly, and then you head to the front of the house.

You may not entertain the gentlemen anymore, but that doesn’t mean that you can neglect your appearance.

The men are already lined up at the door, joking and laughing with each other. And, as you open the door, they settle themselves into a more respectful manner. They know that you will toss them out if they become a problem.

You have before, after all.

“Gentlemen,” You greet with a dainty smile, “Welcome to the Desert Rose. The girls have been eagerly awaiting you.”

It’s all a show. An act.

Honestly, you should have gone into show business with how skillful your acting skills have become over the years.

While you’re not sure if the gentlemen believe your words, they at least pretend that they do. Which is good enough.

You allow the men into your home and take the payments in advance, before you send them off to the girl of the night. And then your home is silent, save for the sound of music playing from the old jukebox in the corner.

Shelling out credits to make all of the rooms sound proof was the cleverest thing you’ve ever done. Right up there with the panic button you had installed in each girls room.

You’re about to change the song playing, when the bell over the door chimes as the door opens.

“Terribly sorry,” You say absently, without turning away from the jukebox, “But all of the girls have been spoken for this evening.”

“A rather small brothel you’re running,” The voice is deep and unfamiliar to you, and is surprising enough to you that you turn your attention away from the machine in front of you to regard the man.

He’s tall and broad chested, he takes up a lot of space in your foyer, though it almost seems like he takes up more space than he physically should. He seems to be allergic to color, you note with some distant amusement, everything from his boots to his hat are the darkest black. The only color coming from the dark green shirt he’s wearing.

“Old Ashton is a small place,” You reply as you walk around him and settle behind your desk, and you favor him with a small smile, “Welcome to the Desert Rose.”

He stalks towards the desk, there’s no other word for how he moves, “Boba Fett.”

“Ah. Jabba’s newest muscle.”

“So the rumors have already started.”

“As I said, small town.” You open your scheduling book, “If you’re looking to spend time with a girl, I’m afraid you’ll have to make a reservation. All of my girls are booked for the night.”

“Including you.”

You tilt your head to look at him, “I no longer entertain gentlemen callers, Mister Fett.”

His dark eyes scan you as best as they can with you seated behind the desk, and you’re fairly certain that he’s looking down your top. “Never?” He questions.

“Never.” You confirm.

“Hm.” He finally tears his gaze away from your tits and flashes a small, cocky, smile, “I bet I can change your mind.” He nods at you once, and then turns and leaves as suddenly as he arrived.

The front door closes with a quiet click, and you release a quiet breath. Cockiness isn’t attractive, you’ve never thought that.

But you like to think that you’re pretty good at reading men, and that didn’t read like cockiness to you. No, it reads as confidence. And that makes him incredibly attractive.

You tap your pen against your lower lip, and sigh, “Shame that he works for Jabba, though.” You murmur to the empty foyer, before you go back to work. Your business isn’t going to run itself, after all.

The next time you see Boba Fett, you’re doing your shopping for the week. Not shopping for the girls, but for yourself.

You’re window shopping, to be more specific. Eyeing a lovely green skirt that would pair amazingly with the dark brown corset that has been sitting in the back of your closet...and naturally a new dress would require new boots-

You almost manage to talk yourself into buying the skirt, when you hear heavy footsteps stop next to you.

“It’s a lovely color.” A deep voice, familiar in it’s unfamiliarity, jolts you out of your thoughts. “You’d look very good in it.”

Boba Fett stands less than a foot away from you, his head tilted down as though his words are for your ears and your ears alone.

“I look good in everything,” You reply lightly.

“I imagine you look good out of everything too,” He counters with a sly smirk.

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.”

“Oh, I did wonder. Repeatedly.” There’s no shame in his voice, and you’re grateful that your thick makeup is hiding the blush you can feel burning your face.

Hurriedly, you change the subject before he notices your embarrassment, “I’m surprised that Jabba let you off his leash long enough to come to the market.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He drawls.

“And what job would that be?” You shoot back, “Terrorizing innocent shopkeepers.”

Boba’s dark eyes pin you in place, and you refuse to back down out of sheer stubbornness, “Careful,” He murmurs, “Your sharp tongue is going to get you in trouble.”

“From you?”

He leans back, and somehow still takes up more space than a man his size should, “No. I don’t raise my hand against women. But Jabba is much less kind than I.”

“And yet you work for him anyway.”

“Credits are credits, darlin.” Boba scans your body with a casual ease that should have infuriated you, but for some reason, didn’t. “And you clearly agree, seeing as you run a whore house.”

“It’s a brothel, not a whore house.”

“A brothel is a whore house. You’re just arguing semantics now.”

You prop your hand on your hip, “I’m leaving now.”

“What about your skirt?”

“With the tithes that Jabba demands, I can’t afford it anyway.” You admit with a scowl.

Boba gazes at you thoughtfully, and then he nods and turns his gaze back tot he clothing in the window.

Assuming that he had nothing more to say to you, you cast one last longing glance at the skirt, before you turn and walk away. It’s probably a good thing that he showed up when he did, there’s no way you would have been able to afford the skirt and food for the week.

Later, as you’re putting the groceries away in your private studio, you admit to yourself that even without the skirt, you barely had enough money to get all of the food that you needed for the week.

As you open the Desert Rose for the evening, you come to the realization that you’re going to have to put yourself back on the roster to be able to keep food on your table, and to keep your girls fed.

Once more, several hours after the last man arrived for his appointment with one of your girls, the door opens and Boba walks into the foyer.

“Seems to me that you have rotten luck, Mister Fett.” You drawl without looking up from your ledger, as if staring at the numbers will make your reality less horrifying. “All of the girls have been spoken for.”

“There’s only one girl I want to take me to her bed,” Boba replies as he sets a box on the counter and pushes it in your direction, “For you.”

“What is it?” You ask, ignoring his first comment with ease.

“Open it and you’ll see.”

You squint at him suspiciously, and then nod slowly. You tug on the ribbon that’s holding the box closed, and move the lid and the tissue paper to the side, and then you stop as you see what’s in the box.

It’s the skirt.

More than the skirt, actually. It’s a whole outfit. Skirt and top and stockings and boots-

“What-?”

“A gift, for you. You deserve nice things.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Not so much to break the bank.” Boba replies with a wave of his hand, “The seamstress knew what size you wear, so everything should fit.”

You stare at the present for a moment, and then you groan and drop your head, “Whyyy? You work for Jabba! Why are you so nice?”

Boba watches you seriously for a moment, “Is that the only thing stopping you?”

“I...what?”

“Me working for Jabba, is that the only thing stopping you from taking me to bed?”

“...It isn’t helping, no.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

He doesn’t answer and instead leaves the building, leaving you staring after him, absolutely bewildered, and with a brand new outfit sitting in your hands.

In truth, you don’t expect to see Boba again that night, so when he returns to the Desert Rose less than an hour later, something cold and grim in his gaze, you’re genuinely surprised.

“Welcome back?” You offer hesitantly, not sure what to make of his grim, yes strangely satisfied, expression.

“Jabba’s dead.”

His words are so startling that you almost drop the glass that you’re holding. “What?”

“Jabba’s dead. Wasn’t even hard, thought he’d have more guards.”

“You killed-!” Your voice is pitched higher than it should be and you could and lower your voice, “You killed Jabba? Why?”

“Because it’s what I was hired to do.” Boba says with a single arched brow, “And because I’m not blind, I can see what he was doing to the village. And then he insulted your honor.”

His words roll around your mind for a moment, “You killed Jabba, in part, because he insulted me?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

You walk over to him and reach out to lightly touch his cheek, “You’re not...hurt?”

“He didn’t touch me.” Boba confirms.

For a moment you stare at him, trying to determine if he’s lying to you, and as soon as you realize that he’s speaking the truth, you drop your hand from his cheek and hook a finger in his belt loop, “Come with me.”

There’s a glimmer of triumph on his handsome face, “Yes ma’am.”

Your personal apartment is pretty small, but it’s big enough for what you have planned, and for what he has planned for that matter.

Boba’s on you the moment he kicks the door shut, his hands heavy as the drag over the thick material of your clothes. He tugs at laces and pulls at buttons, until your dress falls to your feet.

“Beautiful,” He growls as one of his hands slides down your back to tightly grip your ass, his fingers digging into you and causing you to lift to your toes with a pleased gasp.

“Thank you,” You murmur, before you pull him down to press your lips against his.

Boba takes control almost immediately, and you happily let him.

He lifts you into his arms and walks you over to your bed, where he drops you in the middle of the mattress, “I’m going to ruin other men for you, princess.” He warns, as he starts to strip his clothes off and tosses them to the side.

You scramble to your knees, eager to watch him strip for you, and he shoots you an amused look.

“Someone’s eager.” Boba teases, not unkindly, “I’m going to use my mouth on your cute pussy, and then open you up with my fingers.” He explains, his gaze locked on your face, a smirk crossing his face when you lick your lips, “And then I’m going to lay back and let you ride me.”

“Let?”

“Let.” Boba confirms, “Because I’m going to be in complete control the whole time.”

You shiver in delight and crawl to the edge of the bed, your gaze dropping to his cock. “Can I-?” You ask as you reach out to touch him.

Boba catches your wrists and smirks at you, “You want to taste me, princess?”

“Yes, please.”

“Later. Lay back.” He presses a hand against your shoulder and pushes you back to the bed, before he kneels between your thighs, taking care to toss your legs over his broad shoulders.

You can feel his breath fanning against your pussy, and you squirm to try and push yourself closer to him, but his strong hands stop you from moving.

“Careful Princess,” His dark eyes glimmer with amusement, “We don’t want this to end too quickly, do we?”