#admittedly that was when they were much lower level but still

[a-casual-egg]

Okay, hear me out, au where Lady Liliana brings villains from the oxventurers' past that could make up basically an evil oxventurers team.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, gn!reader, somnophilia, oral sex, victim blaming, implied stalking, and obsessive behavior.

Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.

He knows he's not the best guy out there, but if he's given a choice between saving a cat from a tree and pushing a stroller into oncoming traffic, there's a good chance he'll choose the cat. His students might give him a hard time, but he knows better than to take it to heart when Megumi says the only useful thing about his dutiful guardian in his platinum card or Maki claims he could be replaced with a low-level curse and they'd struggle to tell the difference. He's not a saint, sure, but he doesn't entirely miss the mark.

That's why you felt so comfortable tag-along with him on a mission that took you to the other side of the country, why you didn't panic when you found out the higher-ups expected you to share a single (admittedly, still bigger than he'd like for it to be) bed, why you didn't think twice before stripping down to a tank-top and sleeping shorts and passing out - too exhausted to care about sorcerer decorum. Because Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing. Gojo can normally, generally, almost always be trusted to do the right thing.

It's just that he can't be trusted to do the right thing right now.

It's not his fault, Gojo reasons as he stares unblinkingly at the mold-stained ceiling, doing his best not to let his eyes drift. He's a hot-blooded man in the prime of his life, and you're... well, you're you - beautiful, smart, oblivious you. It's not his fault that you looked so pretty in the dim light filtering in through cheap curtains, that the stuffy motel room was too hot to justify using the paper-thin bedsheets, that all your tossing and turning meant your shorts were starting to ride up your legs in a way that wanted to make him dig his teeth into your thighs and--

And look at you. With a shaky breath, he sits up and rakes his fingers through his hair. Looking never hurt anyone. That's what he tells himself, at least, as he shifts onto his knees and lets his eyes rake over the length of your body. You'd rolled onto your side since the last time he could bring himself to check - your knees pulled up and your head tucked downward. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest for a moment, than another, before letting his attention fall lower - to where the waistband of your shorts had drifted below your hip, leaving a strip of supple flesh just a touch lower than what even the lowest-set of your jeans revealed. Both straps of your tank-top had managed to fall off of your shoulders sometime during the night, and careful not to touch you and cross a line he'd only half-heartedly set for himself, Gojo catches the flimsy fabric of your top between two fingers and tugs it downward, just enough to expose the swell of your chest and draw the material taut. Your nipples are already hard, he notes with just a little too much satisfaction. You wouldn't have been happy if you knew what he was doing, but your body might've been.

He feels his cock twitch, and he's palming it before he can stop himself. Touching himself wouldn't hurt you, either, and he wouldn't leave a mess, not if he could help it, not if he could summon that much self-restraint. Cursing under his breath, he shrugs his sweatpants down to his thighs and spits into his palm before wrapping his fist around his shaft. He's already stiff - had been from the second you started to undress, as hard as he'd tried not to acknowledge it. Biting down on his bottom lip, he pumps his hand over his cock to the tempo over your breathing, letting his mind wander to the space between your thighs. He couldn't, not without waking you up. He couldn't, but..

His attention drifts back to your lips, wet and ever so slightly parted. It wouldn't compare, but it'd have to do.

He positions himself carefully, his knees sinking into the mattress next to your head. Arousal beads at his tip, dripping down his shaft and filling the cramped room with a soft 'click, click, click' as he brings the head of his cock to your mouth, resting it gingerly on the crook of your lips. He does what little he can to swallow down his voice and smother the movement in his hips as your warm breath fans over his cock, as his fist tightens in a weak attempt to imitate how tight your throat would be, if he ever got the chance to fuck it properly.

He's thinking about how hot it would be inside of you, how adoringly your body would welcome him when his self-control snaps, when his hips buck forward and the head of his cock collides with the back of your throat. You gag sharply, your eyes snapping open and find his in an instant, expression a mix of shock and confusion and horror, pure and unadulterated. He wants to draw back. He wants to apologize. He wants to do the right thing.

Instead, he cums. His free hand falls to your head, and he holds you in place while he fucks shallowly into your mouth and rides through his orgasm. Your reaction is a pitiful thing - all choking and betrayal, but he can't seem to stop himself from grinning.

When he really thought about it, this was all your fault. You have no one to blame but yourself.

After all, Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.

This time, you just didn't give him another choice.

[mullermilkshake]

A lasting impression - Part two

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four (Coming soon)

Sukuna takes matters into his own hands.

MINORS DNI 🔞 - Tags: Yakuza AU, Fem!reader. Hanami the muscle mummy, Graphic depictions of violence, gore, murder, eye gouging, stabbing, disembowellment, blood, eye gore

Yakuza!Sukuna

Sukuna knew exactly who had taken you, or for certain which family.

It wasn’t the fact that someone had taken you, this was way past that now. It was the point that someone had dared to touch you, struck you- hit you. Someone had the absolute gall to leave a mark on your body and cause you pain.

And Sukuna would not have it.

He paced down the street and called a taxi, on his way over, he managed to remove the blood from his face at least. Not the most presentable, but enough not to scare off the driver when he got in.

"Where to, sir?"

Sukuna gave the address and sat back in the seat with his arms crossed.

"That's quite far, is there a special occasion?"

Despite Sukuna just not liking people, it was admittedly neutral not to hear from someone who knew who he was. Or the man was incredibly blind not to see the blood on his clothes. Nor that he was Yakuza.

It was most probably because it was getting dark out. Still, his voice wasn't completely annoying.

Sukuna observed out of the window at the passing signs and open food stalls with one goal in mind. "I'm going to a boxing match."

Better for now than announcing that he was going to take a life tonight.

"Oh! You must be one of those famous boxers or something. Well good luck tonight!"

"Sure."

Sukuna listened to him ramble on the entire way over, almost banging his head against the glass and the longest story anyone could ever tell.

He must have thought more than a handful of times just to kick the man out of the taxi and drive himself over to the family office. It would have been faster than whatever this was.

The only saving grace to him was Sukuna's pent up rage seeing you as you were. By now, Uraume would have taken you back to headquarters, probably bathed you and wiped the red from your face.

Just the thought of another mans blood on you made Sukuna physically sick. The viscous liquid he painted on his fingers that were an extension of his arm touched you and contaminated your skin.

He would never forgive himself.

Maybe he would forgive it when he confronted the person he knew was responsible for this transgression.

Jiro Awasaka.

The bald headed fuck.

Just from those words you spoke. Tallest woman you had ever seen.

"Here's your stop sir, good luck on your endeavours."

Sukuna slid out of the car and just dropped plenty of notes on the man's passenger chair to which he yelled out with joy. It didn't matter how much was there, not really.

The light was on in that office like a beacon, beckoning Sukuna towards it like a moth fluttering by. The Awasaka family knew Sukuna was far from unsuspecting though decided to piss him off anyway.

Idiots.

He wandered in without a care, the empty lower levels weren’t a shock to see but suspenseful to say the least. Sukuna took the stairs with his hands in his pockets and just trudged up to the third floor where the office door was already open.

"Sukuna. I'm surprised to see you here."

Awasaka was hidden behind his desk, fingers laced together as though he was subconsciously hoping Sukuna would turn right around and leave and believe this pathetic front he was producing.

"I'm not interested in you just now, Awasaka. It's her I want."

Hanami. Awasaka's half witted guard.

The tallest woman anyone had ever seen. A rose amongst thorns in the Yakuza world. That's why she was so easy to identify.

Usually she her full arm and shoulder tattoo sleeve of roses and vines were visable. They were covered up in a black suit jacket clinging to her body and her tie at her next was done up to the top, that only a petal of ink peeped out over the collar by her neck.

She stood in the corner, suited more fashionably than her boss in her fitted pant suit, fluidly showing her attributes along the tight material across her arms.

Her height and muscles alone were nothing to deter Sukuna though.

"Her? What's she done?"

The fact that this man was questioning Sukuna's inteiilgence was laughable. "Did IQ's drop since the last time we met, Awasaka?"

Nanami said nothing, she stood by his side looking through Sukuna like he was nothing. And he was far from nothing.

'Nothing' was Awasaka. 'Nothing' was this entire clan and their chairman.

Noritoshi Kamo.

Yes. The very same Kamo.

"Oh... that meeting with your wife? Well she attacked two of my men, one is dead. All Noritoshi wanted to do was talk with her, but she caused so much hassle."

Upon hearing that, Sukuna couldn’t have been more proud of you.

He also wanted it be known that Choso Kamo was plucked from the same tree Noritoshi grew, yet became nothing like him. he had his reservations, but it was better the kid grew up under Sukuna's watchful eye instead of that ungrateful bastard.

Noritoshi Kamo was nothing to Sukuna, he was far superior in every way and never once actually saw Noritoshi as a threat.

"My bet is you wanted to ransom her off, right? How much is my wife worth to you, Awasaka?"

Sukuna ket his eyes transfixed on Hanami. The coward behind the desk suddenly became mute.

"Be concise and perhaps I won't kill you," if that wasn't enough to get his toes curling, this definitely would be, "or did you forget what happened to Zenin?"

He noticed Awasaka visibly swallow yet kept his smug look somewhat steady. "A hundred mil."

It was that easy to extract information from him and Sukuna hadn't even pulled any finger nails yet. How disappointing.

In honesty, you were worth far more than this little empire Sukuna had built. He'd trade it all in a heartbeat.

"The fact you think that a lousy one hundred mil would equate to my wife's worth, just shows how small minded you are. You bet too little on her head and quite frankly, I'm insulted."

One hundred million yen was 'nothing'.

You were everything.

"Sukuna-"

"I'll take compensation for the suffering you have made for a civilian. That does not come in monetary value. It comes in blood. Her blood."

"Hanami will do no such thing."

"Hanami will if she values you as her superior. Or perhaps I should start with you instead, Awasaka."

Sukuna had not moved from his spot in the office, the office door still open behind him. His age was becoming more evident, but his senses were not dulling no matter how much his opposition wanted to think.

"If you want more blood spilled, by all means, let your men down the hall witness my bare fist rip your stomach out."

"Wait... Leave us be- leave the building!" Awasaka called to no one and the movement tickling Sukuna's ears fell silent.

"You made the right choice, man," Sukuna made his move to the desk before both living bodies could register, "though I don't give second chances."

He grabbed the back of Awakasa's head and brought it down to the flat of the desk, the satisfying crunch of a broken nose set Sukuna’s instincts into overdrive.

This was nothing compared to what happened with Naobito Zenin.

Hanami finally made her own move, trying to block and break the closeness between her bleeding boss and Sukuna. Far too slow for someone hired to protect and just as clumsy when Sukuna avoided her fist and swinging arm upwards easy enough.

He swung and moved with enough speed to kick his leg out and temporarily topple Hanami in the awkward space behind the desk. Next, he pulled Awasaka from the chair and threw him to the ground to the point his stomach was now exposed under his shirt.

That's where the little ball point pens went from the stand on his desk. Two in deep enough to make the man squirm. Hanami grabbed Sukuna from behind and yanked him away.

She was slick enough to assume she had Sukuna in a bind, pulling him up and using the crook of her elbow at his neck. She never did see the two bull point pens in his hands.

Sukuna moved and utilised the almost two foot height different to his advantage and slipped out of it easy enough, practically climbing her and peicing her eyes with enough pressure that they popped.

She screamed out and stumbled around the room unti her body hit the wall with him still attached to her.

"An eye for an eye, but let's take interest until I'm satisfied," he twisted the pens and let them squelch the mass inside the eye sockets, "flesh from your skull ought to do that, maybe it'll teach you not to touch who you do not have any right to."

She said nothing, just yelped in pain some more until she slipped down the wall.

"Come on, don't be shy when you were so confident earlier hitting a civilian," He pushed the pen shaped metal in deeper until Hanami stopped moving. "Consequences have actions and I do not let things slide. Not when it comes to her."

No one got away with touching you in any way and got to walk out without losing a body part.

And now to take out the trash.

Awasaka still laid on the ground right where he was, gurgling away from his broken nose and most probably a punctured lung. Sukuna knelt down at him and watched the pathetic waste struggle.

"This will certainly be a sign to Noritoshi to take me on and I hope he does. Maybe then I'll find someone actually worth fighting, though I highly doubt that."

Pushing his fingers through the gouge in his stomach he made, Sukuna opened it further and noted the spray from Awasaka's lips as his hand disappeared inside his abdomen.

There he pulled out whatever he could get his hands on and yanked it from his body, it was practically still throbbing and steaming in his closed fist when it was tugged away.

It slumped on his skin and formed a neat pile over his chest, like a bow for a present. That should have been enough to question Noritoshi Kamo and coax him in for a 'little talk' about how his lieutenants were going unchecked.

It wasn't the last time he'd do this. It wasn’t as though Sukuna had eradicated the danger for you, but he could sleep sounder tonight knowing one less evil was at large.

They were all filthy nobodies not worth their salt.

And soon Sukuna would ensure they all met their graves in a timely manner.

Just for you.

[vampiretendencies]

I was thinking about pregnant reader where she’s just really emotional and overwhelmed. like almost everything is making her upset. for example, jj getting ready to leave her for work?— tears

you smooth over the stupid however flattering mechanics uniform. buttoning up until the last button, fingertips tracing the jj tag sown neatly to his shirt. encapsulated in cursive and all. he’d gotten the lead mechanic at the most retailed shop in kildare. he grinned at your pout, thumbing over the roundness of your cupids bow. his calloused thumb lingers there and he takes in the shape of the lips he’ll be undoubtedly kissing in this lifetime and the next.

“y’been doin’ this every morning, baby.”

“because you leave me every morning.”

it’s irritating that he has to go to a dumb job and make dumb money, rather than spending his day with his girl and his baby on the way. it treads at remaining loneliness until the creeping up of eight pm when he gets off. before you were pregnant it was easy to disguise the prevailing emptiness by doing things around the house. but, now you’re big and pregnant, and you hardly feel like lifting a finger. his hands travel to your stomach, cupping beneath your belly— being six months, you were very much showing which jj admittedly took pride in.

if he could take you out for a day on the town and show you off, he would anytime of the week. also, having remaining withdrawals from being away from his little family. not equaling up to the debilitating version that you felt, however.

“gotta’ keep working so my girls won’t want for nothin’.”

“i’ll still want you.”

he goes in for a kiss to your lips, but you turn your head in stubbornness so instead he’s met with your cheekbone— which would not settle his aching appetite. a hand left your stomach to adjust your turned head, squishing your face with a bit of demand and admiration. your kiss back, rolling your eyes partially.

“just feel helpless here by myself j.”

he lowers himself on his knees eye-level with your belly, he lifts up the oversized t-shirt, which was evidently his; it crinkles beneath your breasts and stays. he places yet another kiss there, almost in sync with the little angel, as he swears to God above he feels a kiss back.

“you’re never helpless, proud of you every second im gone for carrying our baby.”

gently placing the shirt down, he pecks you once more because he knows you need it almost more than him.

“prettily, might i add.”

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix

part nineteen

YAAAAYYY FLUFF CHAPTER word count: 2.8k

“This is way too hard.”

“Well, you’re barely trying! It’s easy for me!”

“You’ve been doing this your whole life,” Alice interjected, raising an eyebrow at Basil’s indignant expression. “And I’m sure it’s easy for you when you’re, like, an inch tall.”

Basil crossed her arms in defiance. “Just keep trying.” 

After Alice had reluctantly agreed to build a friendship with the borrowers, the four of them were faced with the task of actually finding something to do together. After some consideration, the borrowers had offered to share their skills with the humans by giving them both a sewing lesson; while Alice had been skeptical, Felix had been open to the idea, happy to get more of a glimpse into the borrowers’ lives. 

Now, Basil was standing firmly on the rug, peering up at Alice. Alice was on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, a rectangle of black fabric in her left hand and Basil’s sewing needle wobbling in her right. Basil had been apprehensive to hand her needle off to the human, feeling naked without its comfortable weight in her hand, but Pepper had muttered to her that if she was going to be friends with Alice, Basil would need to at least try to trust her.

“Felix,” Alice said absentmindedly, brow screwed together with concentration as she stitched a wobbly white line along the fabric, “you should really invest in a table. My elbows hurt.”

Felix snorted in amusement somewhere behind Basil. “No one said you had to lie down like that.” 

When Basil glanced back at him, the blonde human was sitting up against the couch, stitching up a piece of fabric with much more fluidity and confidence than Alice. Pepper sat on his towering shoulder, comically tiny.

Basil raised her eyebrows at the display, then turned back to Alice. She couldn’t wrap her head around how Pepper could comfortably sit on Felix’s shoulder like that, even with Felix sitting on the floor. The thought of being suspended on anyone’s shoulder made Basil’s stomach crawl.

Alice huffed, shifting on her elbows, focused on the task between her fingers. Basil had to admit, it didn’t look entirely comfortable, but it was nice to have Alice closer to her eye level. She was starting to get sick of craning her neck to look up at the humans. 

Watching Alice attempt to stitch a straight line along the fabric was amusing, to say the least. Basil had originally been apprehensive about Pepper’s idea to befriend Alice– but now that she was allowed to insult Alice’s handiwork without the threat of being stuffed into a jar, her mood had increased substantially.

Besides, something about Alice’s pathetic attempts to learn Basil’s skill was… touching.

“That looks awful,” Basil chirped, unable to sugarcoat it. Alice sent her a sharp look (which admittedly sent a cold rush into Basil’s stomach), but the human only sighed, gaze dropping back to the fabric in her hands.

“I’m trying,” Alice said defensively, twirling the needle and accidentally twisting her white thread around her finger. Basil held back another insult, choosing her next words carefully.

“Well… your hands are moving too much,” Basil explained firmly. After a moment, the needle went still in Alice’s hand. “You need to focus.”

Alice looked as if she wanted to argue, frowning down at the needle, but she only nodded slowly. The improper way she was holding the needle made Basil’s hands itch, and the borrower tightened her jaw, fighting away the fear crawling up her spine.

“Here, just…”

Basil inched closer, and Alice froze, sending the borrower a wary glance. Her large hands hovered in the air, much too high for Basil to reach, so she impatiently waved for Alice to lower them.

A few weeks ago, Alice had trapped her in those hands. Basil drew her bottom lip between her teeth, sending Alice a frown, as if she might be snatched up again– but Alice was only observing her cautiously, gaze frosty. Slowly, Alice shifted, laying her forearms across the floor in front of Basil. 

Besides, she wouldn’t try anything with Felix right there, Basil thought to herself, straightening up slightly. Swallowing thickly, the borrower stepped closer to the long, pale fingers.

“You need to– don’t grab me, just… like this.”

Basil took a long, heavy breath, before resting her hands on the tips of Alice’s fingers and hoisting herself up into her palm. The hand below her only bucked slightly in surprise, while Alice’s quick intake of breath sent a flutter through Basil’s hair. The borrower tightened her lips, ignoring the pounding of her heart.

She purposefully faced away from Alice and closed her hands around the threaded end of the needle, which looked uncomfortably small in Alice’s large grip. Alice loosened her fingers as Basil repositioned the needle, going so far as to grab Alice’s thumb and redirect it. 

“You’re not putting enough pressure on the end of the needle,” Basil explained, focusing intently. The familiar task of sewing comforted her. “That’s why you’re having trouble getting it through the fabric. It should be easier if you hold it like this.”

Alice was quiet for a long moment, running the pad of her finger along the length of the needle. It was only when Basil took peer back to evaluate her did she notice that Alice had been holding her breath.

“Oh,” Alice said finally. “Thanks.”

Her voice made Basil’s shoulders jerk, suddenly acutely aware of where she was– but the borrower forced herself to relax, blinking owlishly, closing her hands into fists. She was currently standing in Alice’s palm– but she wasn’t being dangled in the air or being thrown into a jar. In fact, Alice hadn’t moved an inch.

The borrower chewed her lip, at a loss for words, while Alice only blinked down at her. Suddenly dizzy with emotion, Basil ducked her head. “Well, go ahead, then. Keep sewing.”

—

“They’re getting along better, don’t you think?” Pepper muttered, eyebrows high with shock.

He was staring down at Alice’s hands, where Basil had placed herself, amazingly. Alice was listening intently as Basil spoke, watching through narrowed eyes as Basil gestured between the needle and the scrap of fabric. 

Pepper couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

His fingers tightened into Felix’s shirt below him, keeping himself stable as Felix turned his head to observe the girls as well. “Oh,” the human murmured in surprise, blonde eyebrows high. “That’s… actually kind of sweet.”

Pepper snorted in amusement, watching as Basil yanked the needle out of Alice’s fingers in frustration, causing Alice to sigh. “Yeah, I guess. I thought Basil was gonna kill me when I suggested we should be friends with Alice.”

“I think she might kill Alice,” Felix remarked, turning back to the scrap of fabric in his hands. Pepper laughed.

When he glanced back at Felix’s hands, his heart fluttered with pride. In all honesty, Pepper hadn’t expected Felix to be particularly good at sewing– it was just hard for the borrower to imagine someone so large to be good at such an intricate task. However, Felix’s stitches were straight and even, the needle moving expertly between his enormous fingers.

“You’re really good at this,” Pepper said after a few minutes of silence, watching in fascination as Felix tugged a stitch tight. It made his stomach twist to see his own needle, which he had retrieved from his room, pinched between Felix’s fingers. 

The shoulder beneath him shifted, and Felix did his best to glance at him, blue eyes flickering. “Thanks. I guess I learned from the best.”

Pepper grinned and brought a hand to Felix’s neck. He blinked up at his soulmate’s profile for a moment, at the way Felix narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips in concentration– and his heart swelled. Fueled by adoration, the borrower pulled himself to his feet and planted a kiss to the sharp line of Felix’s jaw.

It was always amusing to kiss Felix when he wasn’t expecting it— to hear the sharp intake of breath, to feel the muscles twitch underneath Pepper’s hands. Felix remained frozen until Pepper had lowered himself back down again, sitting innocently on his shoulder. “What?” Pepper teased, voice low. 

As always, Felix shook his head dismissively, as if he could possibly hide the redness of his cheeks. “Nothing,” he mumbled, focusing back on his needle and thread with a little too much intensity. Pepper noted in amusement that his handiwork became significantly more wobbly.

Felix never kissed him back. It only hurt slightly. 

Pepper was willing to cling to the memory of the one singular time Felix had kissed him– but, unfortunately, the memory was tainted by the fact that Felix had been incredibly drunk.

Pepper crossed his legs, shifting over until he could lean against Felix’s neck. Two months ago, he would have balked at the idea of touching a human, let alone desperately wanting to be kissed by one. It was embarrassing, and confusing, and nerve-wracking– but Felix had taken him out on a date recently to an art museum– and he had clearly wanted to kiss Pepper that time in which he was… very intoxicated. Surely there was something in Felix that wanted to kiss Pepper. Right?

“I…” Pepper hesitated, gaze flickering briefly down to the girls. They weren’t paying any attention to him; in fact, they seemed very preoccupied with their current argument. “Felix?”

“Hm?” 

He could feel his face darkening with scarlet. “Can I ask you something?”

Felix paused only briefly, the needle twirling in his hand. “Of course.”

Pepper drew his bottom lip between his teeth, considering— then, suddenly finding that he was fed up with not being able to see Felix’s face, he stood up again. The muscles of the shoulder tensed underneath him, and Felix’s hands went completely still.

He’s very observant, Pepper thought absentmindedly as he stepped out onto Felix’s arm. He can always tell when I’m about to move.

It was second nature for Pepper to cross Felix’s arm like a bridge, his small hands held out for balance– however, when he reached the bend in Felix’s elbow, he hesitated. He briefly worried about his ability to keep his balance on the angle of Felix’s forearm.

“Hey, here…”

Felix’s voice floated over him, the only gentle warning before his long fingers closed around Pepper’s waist. The borrower froze, letting out a soft exhale of surprise, but he relaxed into Felix’s fingers instinctively.

The hand cupped around him, loose enough not to overwhelm Pepper, and moved him the rest of the way to Felix’s knee. Pepper hoisted himself off onto the denim before turning around, sending Felix a small, sheepish smile. “Ah– thanks.”

“Yeah,” Felix said softly, gaze warm. Once again, Pepper found himself wanting to kiss him– leaving him flushing and remembering why he had initiated this conversation. 

Felix absentmindedly played with the needle between his fingers, looking at Pepper expectantly. The borrower chewed his lip, hoping his face wasn’t visibly red. “So– I– I just…”

Oh, god, this is so embarrassing.

He stared at Felix for a moment, gaze flickering, before feeling his heart twist. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Felix’s face went blank, lips parting, and Pepper continued hastily, “In your bed. Like when I slept on your chest that one time, but– um, on purpose.”

The immediate flush in Felix’s face was undeniable, his soft gaze widening. “Oh–! Well, yeah, of course, Pepper.” After a moment he added, embarrassed, “You can anytime.”

Pepper’s heart immediately jumped, thrilled, but he forced himself to keep his cool, nodding and crossing his arms. When Felix’s lips twitched into a smile, Pepper grinned, ducking his head.

“Oh, also.” Felix straightened up, clearly remembering something important. “Breanna’s having a get-together for her birthday next week, and she invited you and Basil.”

Pepper blinked owlishly, processing Felix’s words. “Huh?”

“It’ll just be the six of us,” Felix explained, brow tightening when he noticed Pepper’s apprehension. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, of course. No pressure.”

“I’ll have to talk to Basil about it,” Pepper responded finally, heart fluttering around his chest. He offered a smile, fiddling his thumbs together. “I… that was nice of her to invite us, though. I didn’t realize, that…”

He trailed off, chewing his lip, unsure of what he was even going to say. Felix had abandoned his sewing task, focusing solely on Pepper expectantly, and the borrower shrugged. “I didn’t realize that Breanna thought about us like that,” he explained, dropping his gaze over to the girls, where Basil was aggressively undoing the lopsided stitches in Alice’s fabric. His lips twitched into a smile.

“What do you mean?” Felix’s brow knit. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Pepper glanced back up at him. “I sort of… I… I was under the impression that borrowers were seen as animals, or pests, or something. Most humans don’t see us as their friends, you know?”

Felix’s lips tightened. “Oh— Pepper, of course I don’t—”

“Not you. Most humans,” Pepper interjected plainly. He considered his soulmate for a moment before adding, “but you have to admit, we didn’t have the best start, either.”

“Wh— yes we did.” Felix’s eyebrows shot up, nervous.

Pepper hid a smile. As much as he adored Felix, it was very fun to mess with him a little bit.

“You trapped me under a glass,” Pepper teased, to Felix’s dismay. 

“Only because you bit me,” Felix said, aghast. 

“Oh yeah,” Pepper said thoughtfully. “I forgot I did that.”

Felix sent him an incredulous look, then let out a breathy laugh, glancing down at his hands. “Alright. Alright… just… it would be nice if you and Basil came to the party. I promise Bree only sees you as a friend. Owen, too.”

Pepper smiled, drumming his fingers together. “I’ll talk to Basil.”

“Okay– check this out,” Alice spoke up suddenly, drawing the boys’ attention. 

Alice was still propped up on her elbows, holding up her sewing project for display in her left hand. She had folded the fabric in half and stitched up the sides, creating a small pocket. 

Her right hand was still resting on the floor, where Basil was sitting, small legs dangling over her long fingers. Pepper blinked in amazement when she waved up at him, a small smile on her face.

“Hey, that looks good,” Felix said brightly, leaning closer to see Alice’s project. Pepper caught his balance when Felix’s knee shifted below him.

“Thanks. I had to start over a few times,” Alice explained, tugging at the fabric, which stretched slightly between her fingers. They had used the fabric from one of Felix’s old shirts. 

Pepper briefly caught Felix’s eye to ensure that he had his attention before grabbing onto the denim below him and clambering down the length of his shin. Felix waited patiently until Pepper hit the rug, backed away from the massive shoe, then turned towards the girls as well.

“Good job,” Pepper told Alice, stiffening only slightly when her blue gaze landed on him. 

“Yeah,” Alice said, although she seemed to inwardly disagree. “Thanks. Do you two sew all of your things?”

Pepper exchanged a glance with Basil, who had hopped off of Alice’s wrist and had met Pepper in the middle of the rug, between the two giants. “Yeah, basically,” Pepper responded with a shrug. “I mean, we kind of have to.”

“Oh. Right.” Alice played with her project for a moment, pondering. “There aren’t any borrower stores, or anything?”

Basil sent her an incredulous look. “...No?”

“Huh. When you said you lived in the walls, I kind of thought there were whole borrower cities in there, or something.”

“Same,” Felix added immediately, earning a startled but amused stare from his soulmate. “No, I’m serious.”

Basil laughed. “No, there’s no borrower cities.”

“And if there are, we haven’t heard of any,” Pepper added, amused at the thought. It was an interesting concept, the idea of hundreds of borrowers living together in the walls— but the likelihood of it being real was microscopically low.

Alice snorted, and for a second Pepper thought that she was about to say something rude or demeaning— but after noticing the glimmer in her frosty gaze, he absentmindedly realized that she had been laughing. He lifted an eyebrow, observing her large form.

“Well—“ Alice twirled the needle in her hand before seeming to remember that it didn’t belong to her. Meeting Basil’s gaze, she moved amazingly cautiously, extending the needle out to the borrower. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow, fascinated, as Basil marched forward and snatched it out of Alice’s fingers. “Yep,” she responded. “Thanks for not breaking it.”

“It’s a needle, I wouldn’t’ve…” Alice chewed her lip for a moment, then settled on a glare. “Shut up.” Basil only grinned, twirling the needle around. It looked comically large after being pinched in Alice’s long fingers. 

Pepper exchanged a startled look with Felix before facing Basil, heart warm. “Hey, also– do you want to see Bree and Owen again?”

Basil blinked, curious. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, I have good news, then.”

-------

peach learn how to end a chapter challenge (impossible)

thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! <3 comments and reblogs fuel me 🥹

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan @mabelisthebatman @andithewhumper @mothsintherain @violetlight @heroofthe13thday @phoenix-on-the-run @houseboatmac @dav8530 @ididit-allofit-foryou @soakedmilkgt

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Nightwolf x Reader: Appropriate Time (Lime)

Contect: After a cliche rescue mission, you two take cover and decide to suck faces💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Quick! Behind the crates!" Grey Cloud guides you by your hips and presses you forward to urge you behind cover. You two had run so far. You couldn't for so long.

Sitting at the possible safe shield from enemy sight, Nightwolf ducked along beside you, prepared to take out anyone who dared come behind and threaten not his, but you're safety.

It was not his priority to go on a massacre while he saves you from the Black Dragon's filthy hands, but it is not above him if it really comes down to it. Your boyfriend has only taken out... at least ten. Eleven if the armed guy with his arm hacked off didn't bleed out.

"Where the hell are they?!" Someone yelled before another round of gunfire resumes in the open.

Nightwolf turns his head to give you a reassuring look before turning back to keep an eye out. You understood what that look told you. You're safe. No one will hurt you.

Only a few yells of alert and frustration were heard before you both just assumed they had given up searching for you two. Grey Cloud finally eases up, the handsome man exhaling and sitting down beside you.

It wasn't such an appropriate time or place to relax, but the break is very much needed. Only just a couple of minutes to be sure no one was around near the escape route. You sure as hell need it.

Finally, gathering your composure, you looked at Grey Cloud in dismay. "You came?!"

"To save you. Why wouldn't I, Y/n?" Calm eyes that always soothed you looked down at you.

"Y-You could've died! Or what if Kano caught you? He would've tortured you!"

Nightwolf's face still remained the same. No shits given. "Assuming I already rescued you. So?"

"Your tribe! What about your tribe?!" Your eye twitched. How is he still so chill? "Don't the Matoka need you?"

"Dear, if the Great Spirit decided not to protect me for this personal mission, she'd choose another to look over the Matoka. Yes, my tribe would still need me, but you know what I need?" He looks at you with those eyes.

"What?"

"You."

He was being very sincere. Unaware of how cute and corny the little pick up line was. If he even do those...

Before he questions the blank look on your face as if he said something wrong, you technically pounced on him.

Your lips instantly locked with his, and your hands made it to his face, feeling his war paint with your thumbs. And he doesn't push you off and tell you what an inappropriate time this was. No.

The scrumptious male lets you sit on top of him in a suggestive position and kisses you back. His large hands first rest on your lower back.

Your grunting was muffled but it tells him you want him to touch you more. You love his hands. The same hands that can make you feel good at the same time turn someone's neck in a 180 angle if he has to perform a necessary fatality.

You don't say too much, though.

As his hands squeeze you, you leveled up the kiss into something hungrier. Tonsil tennis.

Your tongues met each other and wrestled. All while sounds were coming from you both. The growls Nightwolf made were getting you off, admittedly.

Vice versa as well. Your whimpering was making his jeans get tighter. When things get too heated for him, he bucks right up between your legs, his strong hands holding you down to press you against him.

And that's when you feel how hard he is for you. "Ohhh, Grey~" You moaned between kisses. He was about to dry hump again before his hand makes it to your front and accidentally touches a sore spot, drawing a pained yelp from you.

Everything stops and he pulls away from your lips with a concerned look. "I'm so sorry-"

"No- don't worry!" You smiled with a slightly pained look. You lifted your shirt to check the bruise you got on your side. "They weren't that nice dragging me here."

Nightwolf gently touches your bruise with an empathize look.

You breathed softly before your eyes focused back on the bulge in his pants. You smirk before lightly pressing a hand against his arousal.

"I tell you what. Get me home and back to bed alive, we'll take care of this." You watch as his face turn red.

"A-Are you... mmmm, very well. We start traveling back now." He grunts trying not to dry hump your hand even though you were irking him rubbing his clothed erection. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ No! I won't make a part 2! I don't wanna >:(

[jujutsukgojo]

From The Tree

satoru gojo x reader

summary:

“Satoru?”    

He's taller and broader now. His eyes are covered, and his voice is deeper. He wears a crown on his head and wears luxurious clothes. The fae king's ears are still pointed as ever and his face is still, and probably always will be, perfection. 

He lowers the cover over his eyes. If you were crazy, you’d swear you see longing in those bright eyes of his. 

a/n: quick write and loosely based on the folk of the air series by holly black!

tw: bullying, toxic, prejudice because reader is human, violence, idk what else

Sew the heart onto that, tie it off, and let it be. If it falls, then-    

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ever-so-wonderful trio of idiots. One pulls your hair, making you look up. Shoko looks down at you with a curious gleam in her eye as she inspects your mortal hair with disgust. Her piercing gaze then goes to the blanket you decided to make.  

“Is this work worth anything?” she drops her interest in your hair and picks up your project with two of her fingers. It is a blanket with a heart sewn on it. Admittedly, it isn’t much to look at. However, you worked hard on it, so you are of course proud.   

“It’s worth something to me.”  You snatch it back and frown when you see the stain from her rolled cigarette, she left on it. She may be popular and influential in this mystical hell, but damn her hands are dirty. No one would expect people that are so beautiful to be that way.     

On your right, is Geto. A tall, handsome, intelligent faerie with a slick silver tongue. Although he comes off to you at times kind, you never forget to look deeper and see the slight smile on his face whenever he sees something entertaining; it usually is a wicked thing too. The longer you are here for, the more you understand that he has a face of a liar, even if he can't lie.

  Like now, he looks so concerned and soft. But you see how he likes how this is unfolding. As you both look into each other’s eyes, you know what is about to happen next. The third idiot to complete the trio. 

The strongest faerie of them all and future king, and a total pain in your ass, Satoru Gojo, appears. He crouches down to your sitting level. With a scowl, he picks up your blanket again and tears it. “I knew mortals were sloppy but God, that was extreme.”    

“Why did you do that?” You yell as you pick up the shredded fabric. He tore it to pieces that you don’t think can be salvaged. You’ve worked hard on this. Just for an asshole to ruin it for no reason.    

“You should be glad I helped you. It is much more lavish now compared to whatever you were doing.”    

  Those around you laughed. He squatted to your level again. Before you could say anything, he cups your cheeks with one large hand. “Thank me, human.”   

  Human. Mortal. Things they never fail to rub in your face. Well, you know what? You are proud of being human. Living a long time that will inevitably turn boring is worse than a short life of fun. Having new adventures, love no matter how or why, living fast, or maybe just taking it slow. Either way, a thousand or so years of seeing the same old things time and time again must suck.   

  And dealing with him and his minions sucks, too. No matter how beautiful they are.    

Satoru Gojo, and his magical eyes that see all. Topped with white, fluffy hair, a perfect nose, and the longest lashes you’ve ever seen. Full, pink, perfectly smooth lips and a chiseled chin to match. Not to forget the pointed ears that declare him a faerie.     

  They are all so beautiful. And they always make sure that you know that you pale in comparison. You're tired of their perfection. Of his. It is only right for you to dirty it.    

You spit in his face, much to his surprise. Everyone around you is shocked and waits for their future king to kill you. Although you don’t fully regret it right now, you’re starting to wonder if that was the best call.   

Instead of lashing out, he wipes his face and caresses your cheek gently. No one is breathing. No one moves, either.    

He says nothing as he holds your chin and smiles with closed eyes. Satoru walks away. That's it. He just walks away.    

Utahime, someone who doesn’t hang out with Satoru and Geto a lot, and never treated you unnecessarily unkind, whispers, “What the hell did you just do?”    

 You try to hide your shaking with a nonchalant look. You tuck your hands underneath some of the tattered fabric to cover how sweaty they are. His friends walk away in his direction. Whatever happens next, is probably going to be extremely painful.   

--

Since then, you’ve been on high alert. You’re probably the only one that would ever spit in his face. You are the only idiot in the entire kingdom. Finally, after a week of hiding, you go out of your house which is in a large tree trunk surrounded by flowers and a garden of mortal fruit and vegetables.

 It has been days since the incident, you think. Surely, he has calmed down some. Yes, you spit in his face in front of everyone. Yep, you’re going to die.    

  “Okay, I'll just go and get a few things then I’ll go back home.” Right, right. Although he is a vicious and cruel bastard, he still has an image to keep. He can’t get away with killing or maiming. At least not yet.   

   Right as your foot touches the ground, you hear a disturbing laugh. Gasping, you spot Satoru right in front of you. “I have been meaning to talk to you.”    

  You don’t have a weapon. Not a single scrap of silver on you. “Satoru-”   

“You dare call me so informally?” He cocks his head to the side.    

“It’s hard not to. I have known you my whole life.” Ever since you accidentally wandered off in the seemingly small forest when you were young.     

There was a tree that had red lines on the trunk and strange roots above the ground. They were such a pretty color that you had to touch them. When you did, you must have unlocked it because the tree opened up and swallowed you in.   

   How were you supposed to know that it was a gate to a world that hides in plain sight? Like a door, it opened and shut. It reminds you so much of that book about a wardrobe you used to read as a child.

  That’s when you met him. You landed right in front of Satoru. He was wide-eyed and curious about the girl with round ears and clothes that couldn’t be made by someone like him. They were much too drab. Ever since then, he has been relentless towards you.     

   And you do not know why. The saving grace is that he hasn’t really done anything major.    

“I am a prince. The sole heir to the throne of this kingdom. You may not be anything but dirt, however, you are on my land. You will abide by my rules and glory.”   

“You’re just a prince. This land isn’t yours.” You snap. Satoru looks appalled. 

  He growls and clenches his fists. He then raises his hand and points his finger. A swirl of red gathers around the tip of it. Unfortunately, as a royal, he is given extremely special abilities. He is the strongest fae. Maybe, the strongest that there has ever been.    

Never has he attacked you with it. “Gojo!”    

You try to snap him out of it. If he launches that, you won’t be able to dodge. “Satoru, stop!”   

Brilliant, and angry red runs toward you with devastating speed. The prince of the fae stands tall. His blue eyes that see all are terrifying now. No longer are they annoying and full of arrogance. Now, they are monstrous and evil. Beads that have given a creature too much power.   

   Somehow, it misses you. Not all of it, but enough that it grazes you. Still, your side is hit, and the force pushes you back. You feel your body bounce from the ground and every stick that is in your way. Once you’ve stopped rolling from the impact, you shake from pain.   

  “Ha! You actually dodged! Maybe humans are-” You hear him stop talking. He stands next to your battered form. Tears prick your eyes as you try to push yourself up. It hurts too bad! There is a brutal fight between your pride to stand and the agonizing pain you're experiencing that makes it too hard to even lift yourself up like that.    

  All this, and it didn’t even hit you fully. Can anyone imagine what would happen if you did touch the void?   

   You sob as you try to move some more.     

“Ant? I-I knew you’d dodge but you're hurt-” He sounds confused and shocked. His hand is gentle on your back. Upon contact you try to swipe him away, crying. “Get away from me, you monster!”    

  Possibly minutes later, you are slowly, and carefully, lifted into his arms. Compared to you, he is okay. Gojo does not a scratch on him. Not a white hair out of place or a hint of exhaustion. As he carries you with ease, you finally begin to notice the difference between you and him. For years he has rubbed your mortality in your face. How powerless you are, how weak and weird you look. While the fae are exceptionally beautiful, you are just you.   

   You remember how it was when you first arrived. How they looked at you, how he teased you and tugged on your hair and ears. Back then, you just wanted to go home. His father ‘invited’ you to the castle to figure out how to get you home so something like you wouldn’t have to remain in the realm. In the meantime, you were with the prince and subjected to his ridicule and curiosity.   

  And now, you’re here in the arms of someone who you reluctantly grew up with. He almost killed you. Never had he even threatened this. It was always pulling, tugging, and teasing you for being human.   

You really are an ant compared to him. He was right about that.    

 You finally open your eyes and see that the two of you are deeper in the woods. It is a blurry sight from watery eyes, but it is undeniable. The sweet smell that is unique to this realm gives it away anyway.    

  The fae says something in a low tone. Still, you can’t look at him. You can’t bear to. With one hard blink, you see a familiar tree with red and weird roots. You gasp at the sight. When you arrived here, that was the last you saw of the tree. No one could find it. Has he known where it was this whole time? Ah, right. The Six Eyes. The power to see all. Of course, he could find it. How long has he known where it was?

 Wait, what is he doing?    

 “I am so sorry for hurting you. I knew you could dodge it. I just didn’t expect you to get hurt...or to be so scared. I thought you’d be humbled, not broken. You’re just so strong, I wanted to prove I was stronger. But not like this.” He apologizes again.   

  “What are you doing?” He touches the root. “W-wait! I can’t go back! I don’t know anything about it anymore!”   

“You’re safer there.”   

 “This is my home!”   

 He lays you down in time for the tree to open. You cling onto his arm.  Before you are pulled away, he leans down and tells you his true name. The prince, the future king, told you his most sacred secret. “My only. It remains with you.”   

  You scream as you are taken away. You get to look at him for what may be the last time. He's on his knees, with a bright and shiny tear in his legendary eye. He watches you as you leave.    

--

  Ten years have passed since you arrived at the place you should call home, and not give that title to the land of magic, power, and mystery. Ten years of you being with your own kind and unhappy. There are beautiful people here, inside and out, but it’s not home. You have been with the fae since you were a little kid and have gotten used to the wonders of them and their land. The tricks and riddles, enchanted trees, parties, abundant stars, two moons that on certain days would form into one big moon that is said to be a blessed day.   

 Everything here is bland compared to that.   

 Sighing, you try to push the land of wonder and its inhabitants out of your mind. It has been a decade since you healed. Years have passed for you to try to understand. Yes, you spit on him. But for so long you and the prince had argued, yet he never used his infamous power. And as you were sucked away, he cried. The future king told you his true name. Something that the fae never reveal. You don't know what is going on in Satoru Gojo's head, no one does, and probably never will.

   Even though you are separated from your old home, some of your habits have not been lost. You find yourself in a forest that is just off of your house, foraging. The smell is different here. Back there, back at home, it has a distinct sweet scent. 

  You feel the leaves on the ground. The bright green leaf feels silky against your fingertips. Too silky and smooth. You turn it over and see that there are no ridges or stems. The leaf has an iridescent quality to it when you move it around. Curious of the pretty leaf, you smell it.     

“Sweet...?” As you do, the air turns dense. You feel something tug on you. Finally, you land on your back. Almost as if you had just innocently tripped and nothing pulled you.   

Sweet.    

You get up and see the beautiful tree with red lines and weird roots in front of you. “Wait,”    

You look around and notice the difference. The sky is bluer, and the weather is perfect, the small forest animals' coats are different and look a lot more groomed. They look perfect.

“I’m h-”   

“What are you doing here?” A voice asks from behind you. You scramble to stand and face the owner. “I fell-”    

You stop and stare at the tall man. “Satoru?”    

He's taller and broader now. His eyes are covered, and his voice is deeper. He wears a crown on his head and wears luxurious clothes. The fae king's ears are still pointed as ever and his face is still, and probably always will be, the epitome of perfection. 

He lowers the cover over his eyes. If you were crazy, you’d swear you see longing in those bright eyes of his. 

[incorrect-finding-frankie]

The other Frankie x Reader but Reader dies just before Hexa Havoc (or during it either one)

🐰|He was fascinated by how well you were doing.|🎩

🐰|Every time he encounters you, or if you simply hear him, there’s a moment where Other Frankie congratulations you.|🎩

🐰|Really, there’s a lot on his mind about you—but Other Frankie hasn’t voiced... most of it.|🎩

🐰|You’re more focused on surviving and everything, but you do act nice towards the rabbit.|🎩

🐰|...He’s very charming, admittedly.|🎩

🐰|Other Frankie, of course, is very aware of how Hexa Havoc is approaching. And because of that...|🎩

—

From the rabbit’s sudden arrival, you nearly jumped like a cat—and Other Frankie smirked at that.

“What do you want, Frankie?” You raised an eyebrow from behind the mask. You took a single step back.

But you were still close enough for him to reach forwards, to place a gloved hand on your wrist.

You glanced down at it for a split second, before back up, to meet his face.

“Contestant, there is something that I would like to tell you.”

“And that is...?”

“I..”

Silence.

He opened his mouth once. And then a second, and then a third time. Yet, the words did not release.

He thought he’d be able to say it. How was he not able to say it?

Other Frankie looked away, and cleared his throat. “Good luck, my contestant.”

—

🐰|...He’ll just tell you after Hexa Havoc, he decides.|🎩

🐰|Which, speaking of, Other Frankie watches—to the beginning, and to the end.|🎩

🐰|Other Frankie returns to watch from the cameras after it begins—but the moment you enter, he’s nervous.|🎩

🐰|This rabbit cannot sit or stand still the whole time.|🎩

—

His hands had such a tight grip on the desk, that he was certain that once he removed them, there would be dents.

For the last couple of minutes, you’d been doing well. You’d been doing so, so well.

A gasp escaped his lips as he witnessed you barely escaping Monster Frankie’s grasp...

...And down onto the next level, where it took you a moment—or two—to recover from the abrupt fall.

“Come on...” The rabbit heard himself mutter, his grip on the desk tightening.

Before long, you would be on the final platform

He wondered... would you want to keep going? To keep doing this?

Although... the rabbit wouldn’t get his chance to know—or to ask much of anything.

Eyes widening, Other Frankie watched as the monster rabbit fell down onto the lower platform, right beside you.

You barely had anytime to do much of anything. It was when Monster Frankie shot forwards, managing to snatch you up.

“No, no!”

An ear-splitting scream erupted from your lips... but it was only for a second, not a moment longer.

If it were possible, as Other Frankie slumped downwards, his body beginning to shake, his hands clenched the desk tighter. His eyes went wider.

Even if he wasn’t fully focused on the screens any longer, the distressed rabbit was able to register Cartoon Frankie’s appearance.

“Aw,” Came the response from the toon rabbit, in a rather mocking manner. “You just lost your ‘favorite’, yeah? That’s unfortunate...”

Cartoon Frankie gave a shrug, and clicked his tongue. “We both know that you shouldn’t have gotten attached...”

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

While I am definitely a supporter of “they shared the bed” in the Hateno house

I just know for a fact it didn’t happen instantly… instead Link would take power naps whenever Zelda worked with the kids or in her study. He can go a long time without sleeping and is more than willing to sacrifice the bed so Zelda can actually get rest. She protests at first but admittedly does understand she just fought Ganon back for a century. She needs actual sleep.

Instead, it gradually became evident that the longer Zelda was back, the more and more the trauma from the Great Calamity and the fight with Ganon presented itself. It was a slow overtake of her mind, the exhaustion and shock from it all numbing her until she began to accept the reality that she was safe. Link was safe. Hyrule was saved.

And with her guard lowered, the fear, sadness, and anger came back in the forms of internal warfare. Her rest was disturbed by nightmares, her magic completely sapped from her being. She had nothing to defend herself from it.

Well… not nothing. She had Link.

And in these weeks of getting to know each other again, of finding the Link post-Shrine of Resurrection much more open with his emotions, she knows her faith in him has never faltered. And that is how she knows she is still safe.

And it takes time to come to that level of comfort and genuine vulnerability, more because of their own individual traumas than their relationship. And that’s when they realize everything is a little bit easier when they’re in each other’s arms. The nightmares become blissful sleep, fragments of dreams comforting them, but not as much as the serenity being so close with the other brings.

It was a tentative, shy question at first. “Will you come to bed with me?” “I just can’t seem to sleep very well and I know if I’m with you, I’m safe.”

And the answer was always going to be yes. It didn’t make sense not to. Link would do anything and everything to keep Zelda safe and happy, so peaceful sleep was definitely included.

And that’s how they found themselves healing together. And it was ridiculously easy to share a bed and just sleep. To rest. To know they were doing good work all over Hyrule and still finding the time to make a home for themselves. To be that home for each other. That peace.

[transdimensional-void]

Japanese Language and World-building in Ascendance of a Bookworm

I decided to make this post because a conversation with @mesaprotector made me realize that readers experiencing Ascendance of a Bookworm in English (through Quof’s admittedly excellent translations) might not be aware of Kazuki-sensei’s extensive use of Japanese linguistic features in shaping the world and its characters.

Disclaimer: I don’t have any particular credentials that make me an expert in this area. All I can boast is good enough Japanese language skills to notice these features! But, if you’re interested in my explanation, read on...

About Japanese

Japanese is a language that allows people to easily express their relationship to others through their choice of words. This is likely rooted in Japan’s feudal past, when social roles were much more strictly defined and enforced. Some features that allow this are:

Masculine vs. Feminine Speech: Men and women can (and often still do) use completely different vocabulary as a form of gender expression.

Use of Different Titles: Most manga and anime fans are familiar with titles like -san and -sama used to refer to others politely. Not using a title for someone is also a way to express your perceived relationship to them.

Polite vs. Informal Speech: You use polite speech when speaking to people you perceive as being of a higher social ranking than you, or people you are not close enough to use informal speech with. There are varying levels of politeness. For example, “aru” is casual, “arimasu” is polite, and “gozaimasu” is ultra-super-polite.

Pronouns in Ascendance of a Bookworm

I (first person singular pronoun)

Commoner women, like Tuuli and Effa, use わたし(watashi, written in hiragana) to say I. Commoner men, like Gunther, use オレ(ore, written in katakana) to say I.

Noble women, like Florencia and Elvira, use わたくし(watakushi, written in hiragana) to say I. Noble men, like Damuel and Sylvester, use 私 (watashi, written in kanji) to say I.

There are some commoner women who exclusively use “watakushi,” like noble women do. Frieda does, and so do all of the gray shrine maidens in the temple. Similarly, the gray priests in the temple use “watashi” instead of “ore.”

Well-trained commoner men who are interacting with nobles (e.g. - Benno when he gets fancified) will switch to “watashi” as well.

Even after becoming a noble and referring to herself as “watakushi” when speaking, Myne still calls herself “watashi” in her inner monologue. This is not the case for other women who have been trained to use “watakushi” since birth, so it’s a sign that Myne's inner self is unchanged despite the new, noble veneer.

You (second person singular pronoun)

Commoner women almost never use any version of the pronoun “you.” Instead, they will call a person by their name, either with or without a title depending on their relationship to that person, or by a title only. Commoner men use おまえ(omae, written in hiragana) to say “you.”

Noble women also will usually refer to others by their name, though when they do use a pronoun, they use 貴方/貴女 (anata, either in masculine or feminine form depending on the gender of the person they are addressing, written in kanji). Noble men use 其方 (sonata, written in kanji) when speaking to people of equal or lower rank and 貴方/貴女 when speaking to those of a higher rank.

And then we have 君 (kimi, written in kanji), which I have only seen Ferdinand use, though I believe other men in the temple use it when referring to someone of a lower rank than they are (e.g., the former High Bishop Bezewanst uses it to refer to Myne in the anime, so I’m guessing he used it in the LN as well, though I have not read part 1 in Japanese). Ferdinand normally uses “anata” and “sonata” like any noble man--except when speaking to Rozemyne, who he calls “kimi.” It’s a regular reminder that their relationship began in the temple, not in noble society, and that he feels differently toward her than he does toward any other noble.

Titles in Ascendance of a Bookworm

No Title

This is used among commoners to indicate someone with whom the speaker has a close relationship. For example, Lutz just calls Myne “Myne” with no title attached. Among nobles, it is used when referring to someone of lower rank. For example, Sylvester calls Ferdinand just “Ferdinand” because he is his younger brother and a lower-ranking noble than Sylvester. Noble men will also use it to refer to those of equal rank, and retainers serving the same lord or lady use it regardless of rank to facilitate quick communication. 

-san (-さん）

This title only gets used within commoner society. It indicates distance in relationship between the two people interacting as well as a desire to speak politely. For example, Myne calls Benno “Benno-san” until she becomes a noble. Afterward, she drops the title to indicate that he is of a lower rank than she is, except when they are in the hidden room together and she reverts to her commoner speech patterns.

-sama (-様）

This title is used by commoners when speaking to nobles. It is also used by nobles. Noble men use it when referring to someone of a higher rank than they are. Noble women use it when referring to someone of higher or equal rank to themselves, including their husbands. For example, Cornelius calls Rozemyne “Rozemyne-sama” when he is on the job as her retainer, but when they are speaking as siblings, he just calls her “Rozemyne” because she is his younger sister and therefore lower in the family hierarchy. Rozemyne and Hannelore always refer to one another as “Rozemyne-sama” and “Hannelore-sama” despite their close friendship and equal rank. Eglantine refers to Anastasius as “Anastasius-sama” both before and after they are married.

Family Titles

These are used among both commoners and nobles, though they use different ones. Myne refers to Gunther as 父さん (tou-san, written in a combo of kanji and hiragana) and Effa as 母さん (kaa-san, written in a combo of kanji and hiragana). Lutz refers to them as Gunther-ojisan (Uncle Gunther) and Effa-obasan (Aunt Effa). Myne and Tuuli refer to one another with their names only, no family titles required, indicating that commoners are more relaxed about the hierarchy among siblings.

In noble society, different titles are used by men and women. Noble men use the following: 

Father = 父上 (chichi-ue, written in kanji) and Mother = 母上 (haha-ue, written in kanji)

Older Brother = 兄上 (ani-ue, written in kanji) and Older Sister = 姉上 (ane-ue, written in kanji)

Uncle = 叔父上 (oji-ue) and Aunt = 叔母上 (obaue) 

Grandfather = お祖父上 (ojii-ue, written in a combo of hiragana and kanji) and Grandmother = お祖母上 (obaa-ue, written in a combo of hiragana and katakana)

Noble women use:

Father = お父様 (otou-sama, combo of hiragana and kanji) and Mother = お母様 (okaa-sama, hiragana and kanji) 

Older Brother = お兄様 (onii-sama, hiragana and kanji) and Older Sister = お姉様 (onee-sama, hiragana and kanji)

Uncle = 叔父様 (oji-sama, kanji) and Aunt = 叔母様 (oba-sama, kanji) 

Grandfather = お祖父様 (ojii-sama, hiragana and kanji) and Grandmother = お祖母様 (obaa-sama, hiragana and kanji).

Myne also uses yet another set of family titles to refer to her adoptive family! Sylvester is 養父様 (tou-sama, literally “adoptive father-sama,” written in kanji) and Florencia is 養母様 (kaa-sama, literally “adoptive mother-sama,” written in kanji). She also often calls her older brothers by their names with nii-sama attached, such as Wilfried-nii-sama, as opposed to just by onii-sama. This is probably to distinguish among her multiple older brothers.

Other Titles

A variety of other titles get used in place of calling people by their name or pronouns, both in commoner and noble society. For example, Mark exclusively refers to Benno as 旦那様 (danna-sama, kanji), a title that Lutz begins calling Benno as well once he begins working for him. 

Myne refers to Ferdinand as 神官長 (shinkancho, “High Priest,” kanji) almost exclusively until she becomes a noble. Then she refers to him as Ferdinand-sama when they are outside the temple but still shinkancho when they are in the temple, up until he stops being the High Priest (;_;). She also usually drops the -sama when referring to him in her inner monologue, further indication that while she can walk the noble walk, she doesn’t really believe in the hierarchy.

Professors of the royal academy get called -sensei. Giebes, Aubs, and the Zent also get called by their titles sometimes in place of their names, sometimes in addition to their names. 

Formal vs. Informal Registers in AoAB

I’m not going to list every single word that is different between different registers here because that would be way too long. However, I’ll give some examples. 

Commoners generally speak in an informal register all the time, unless they have been trained to speak politely to people of higher-rank. They use contractions such as -って (-tte, written in hiragana) to mean “said,” and they also often drop the ends of sentences entirely. When they do use verbs, they use the simple dictionary form, e.g. - aru instead of arimasu. Male commoners will often use interjections such as “na” or “ze” or “zo,” which makes their speech sound manlier and rougher. They also tend to use “da” instead of “desu.”

Any commoner who has been trained to use polite language will tend to use the politest forms when speaking to nobles, e.g. - gozaimasu instead of arimasu.

Nobles in general will use politer forms of verbs except in very private, relaxed situations. For example, 参ります (mairimasu, kanji and hiragana) instead of 来る (kuru) or おっしゃる (ossharu, hiragana) instead of 言う (iu, kanji and hiragana).

Noble women have extremely restricted speech patterns. They always speak in the polite or politest registers. For example, a noble woman speaking to a social equal or inferior might use “arimasu,” but when speaking to a social superior, she will use “gozaimasu” or “irasshaimasu.” They also say えぇ(ee, hiragana) to say “yes” instead of the more familiar “hai.” Noble men will use あぁ (aa, hiragana) to say “yes.”

Noble men have a little more freedom in their forms of speech. Many will use informal masculine speech when speaking to social equals or inferiors while still using slightly different vocabulary choice. For example, Ferdinand often says 解せぬ (gesenu, kanji and hiragana) instead of 知らない (shiranai) to say “I don’t know.” They will switch to the polite (but not necessarily politest) forms when speaking to someone slightly above them in rank and reserve the politest forms for those very high above them. However, some men will choose to use polite language all the time, even when speaking to social inferiors.

This is especially notable in the speech patterns of Anastasius vs. Sigiswald. Anastasius chooses to use more stripped-down, rougher language when speaking to social inferiors, whereas Sigiswald still uses “anata” and -masu endings when speaking to social inferiors such as Adolphine and Rozemyne. It demonstrates a stark difference between the two princes’ personalities and how they wish to present themselves to the world.

Another notable use of informal vs. formal is when Myne is in a hidden room with someone who knows of her commoner past. She’ll revert to how she spoke as a commoner. My favorite instance of this is in Part 4 volume 8 when she and Ferdinand are in his hidden room just after she learned he is leaving. As she grows more and more emotional with her threats, she loses the ability to speak in noble speech patterns and starts speaking to him the same way she would Lutz or Tuuli (</3).

In Conclusion

I know this has been a very long post, but hopefully those who are as in love with Bookworm as I am will find it interesting and useful. Kazuki-sensei does a masterful job of exploiting the Japanese language’s unique features to make this world and its characters come alive, and it’s unfortunate that English lacks easy equivalents to allow us to appreciate these effects in translation. When reading the text in Japanese, as long as you know which characters are present and what situation they are in, you can almost always guess who is speaking just from their speech patterns. 

In the English version, Quof will often insert a character’s name to let us know, and also will sometimes add clues such as “spoke in a very stiff manner” to replace the linguistic features lost in translation. I encourage those reading in English to keep their eyes peeled for these little insertions.

My hope is that the above can serve as a window into this aspect of world-building for some English-speaking readers!

[dreamersbcll]

Sam’s Heart

Last thing we should do is go slow

for @radicalfrancoiseappledelhi

——————————————————————————

Crimson.

God, Sam loved that color.

Admittedly, the first time she killed- Richie - she was squeamish. The blood was thick and hot, a reminder that the body below her was once a thriving vessel. Crimson blood coated her face dripped down her arms, languid and viscous. Almost like hot molasses.

At first, it made her stomach turn. She had stood up, staring at his body, breathing in shallow, quick breaths. So many questions swirled through her head, so many pointless prayers following each question mark. Sam stared down at her ex-boyfriend’s dead body and tried not to vomit all her sins onto the carcass.

And then, a flip in her head switched on. Suddenly, the blood that made her shirt stuck to her chest wasn’t suffocating- it was an invitation. A hand held out to her, offering her a way out.

If she looked at the hand hard enough, she would notice that it was coated in fake blood-dyed corn syrup, maybe. Not the blood that she had just drawn from the body below her.

Who was she to deny a helping hand?

From then on, crimson was her favorite color—the deep burgundy, the color of love, passion, and even courage.

But she knew it was also the color of rage, warning, and revenge.

It was also the color of ruthlessness.

Sam Carpenter was no stranger to ruthlessness. It fueled her and forced her to adapt and become more creative. Life wasn’t always so simple and direct; adversity constantly plagued her when she was ready to succeed.

Luckily for her, Tara was just as capable of adapting.

——

“Hand me the knife, mi cielo.”

Tara frowned, gripping the knife tightly in her hands. The pair had just tied down their latest victim, and Sam was putting gloves on as Tara watched him thrash around in his chair. Usually, Sam would let Tara take control- just for a bit- but not today, not on this one.

This one was Sam’s.

“But I want-” her sister whined.

Sam tutted softly, holding out her hand. “My love.”

Her little sister bowed her head in concession and handed the blade to her big sister. Tara stepped back behind the man in the chair and gripped the rope, holding his chest still, playing with the frayed edges. Sam observed her little sister, drinking in the dark eyes that were fixated on their victim. Her little girl was so beautiful. Sam would make sure this man paid for what he did to her little girl.

Pulling back, Sam looked down at the man, grinning a bit. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself, hmm?” she purred, twirling the knife in her fingers.

He pulled away, his eyes full of tears. Sam tutted softly, pushing the blade under his neck, forcing him to look up at her. “Hey, hey. Look at me. Look into my eyes. Tell me what you see.”

“They’re dark. Cold,” he whimpered, tears leaking out of his own eyes.

“They can be forgiving if you tell us who we are,” Tara quietly chimed in.

Sam looked up at her sister, her heart warming at the sight. Her little sister had gotten so much more comfortable with herself and her abilities in her new role. It was clearly reflected in her steely and level voice.

Their prey looks between the two, his eyes darting back and forth as if he couldn’t decide who he was afraid of more. He stuck his tongue out, moistening his lips. Sam noticed how his lower lip quivered and how blurry his eyes were with tears.

Good. He should be afraid. He knows what he did.

“Please,” he pleaded softly, his voice cracking.

There it was. The admission. Sam could feel the air shift, all the joy of their mission slowly leaking. Tara’s shoulders slumped in defeat, her hands slightly trembling.

But Sam hadn’t given up yet. She was ruthless. She would be relentless. It was in her blood, not her sister’s.

“You know. I know you know who we are. Come on, think. Use that big brain of yours,” she snarled, pressing the knife harder on his neck.

“Don’t lie to us. We know,” Tara whispered, pulling at the rope.

The man flailed in his chair, crying like a little bitch. “I don’t! I don’t know! Please just let me go, please!”

Sam shook her head, pulling back. He gulped at the loss of contact against his neck, blood trickling down the cut she left. She couldn’t deny how delightful the crimson looked and how carnivorous she was for more.

“Hmm. Wrong answer, Mr. Carpenter,” she replied, her tone bored.

He paused, frozen. “How do you know who I am?” he asked meekly, his eyes darting between the two.

Without hesitation, Tara replied.

“Hi, Daddy,” Tara breathes, her fingers tightening around the rope.

Recognition floods through his eyes, his body sagging in relief. It took everything in Sam not to scoff at the action. Pathetic. He actually thinks that her little girl will save him. So pathetic.

Sam was the one who raised her, nurtured her, and taught her how to fight and survive. All he did was teach Tara how to leave and run away. It took years for Sam to earn back the trust Tara lost in her, and he thinks he can gain it all back with remorseful eyes.

Not on her watch.

He- Tara’s father- pulled against the restraints, lunging towards Tara. “Tara. Oh my god, Tara. Por favor, mi amor. Please don’t hurt me. Please. I’m your dad. Your Papi.”

Swiftly pushing Tara behind her, Sam wedged herself between the two, thrusting her knife under his jugular, not caring if she nicked his skin or not. He made the mess first in their lives. She didn’t really care if he bled uncontrollably or sparingly; crimson was crimson.

She maneuvered the knife under his chin, forcing him to lol up at her. “Mhm. You are. As much as I hate to admit it, you are.”

Glancing back at Tara, her beautiful girl, she hummed. Tara looked nervous, her eyes darting between her two parental figures. Clearing her throat, she got Tara’s attention. Their eyes locked, boring into each other’s minds. Instead of speaking, Sam just tilted her head, jutting her chin out—a challenge.

Will you stay by my side?

Without hesitation, Tara nodded.

I’m yours.

Sam smiled wide, returning to the pathetic man who once parented her years ago. He looked up at her, hopeful, almost as if Sam would let him go. Pathetic. Men were so pathetic.

She pressed the knife harder into his neck, letting droplets of crimson stream down her brand-new blade. He whimpered at the actions, his eyes wide, his lips trembling in fear.

Bending down, Sam got close to his head, her lips brushing his ear. “But, you’re not my father,” she whispered.

Behind her, Tara nodded, her eyes dark, her lips curling into an intoxicating smile.

Bloodlust.

Grinning, Sam pulled back, her pupils dilating at the blood trickling down his throat. God. What a sight. It was a treat killing Christina- but this was a new rush. Killing the man who tore their family apart and destroyed her little sister? She couldn’t imagine anything better.

“And you’ll never be her dad ever again.”

One quick flick of the wrist, and Sam was painted crimson once again.

——

“You look so good, my love. So strong. So powerful,” Sam whispered, wiping a smear of blood off Tara’s jaw.

Tara was sitting on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around Sam’s midriff, her eyes closed in exhaustion. Sam was gently washing away the bloodstains, letting Tara press against her body. She would always hold her little sister up. She would always be there for her. Tara was her little girl, always.

Her little sister hummed, her eyelashes fluttering in exhaustion. “I do?”

Sam pulled back, smiling a bit. She reached out, brushing sweaty hair off her sister’s forehead. Her heart grew two sizes as Tara pushed her face into her hand, sighing contentedly.

“Mhmm. Ruthless, my love. You look ruthless,” she purred.

Tara smiled wide, her eyes still closed. “Just like you?” she whispered back, a smile spreading across her face.

Without hesitation, Sam replied. “Just like me.”

Tara then blushes, her cheeks coloring deep crimson.

[sepublic]

I feel like during the thirty years between Eda being cursed and meeting Luz, there was more apprehension between mother and daughter than there was between sisters; At least that's the vibe I got. Obviously a lot of this can be attributed to Eda and Gwen having a very different dynamic than Eda and Lilith, because Gwen was an authority figure in Eda's childhood, which translates to her being perceived as a pestering, disapproving mother in adulthood.

Whereas with Lilith, even though Lily technically had seniority over Eda, Eda definitely had more agency between the two, taking the lead a lot more, which as we know contributed further to Lilith's whole complex. Plus they're sisters so they still remember being kids who got into mutual dumb fun and antics together. On another level, while Lilith and Gwen both expressed disapproval towards Eda during the thirty years, I think Eda took Gwen's to heart much more personally because it was over the curse, something she was much more insecure about (esp post-Raine breakup), whereas with her chosen wild witch lifestyle, Eda had zero regrets.

So even if Lilith was much more openly disparaging at times, it couldn't get to Eda like Gwen's well-intentioned efforts did, plus again; Gwen is Eda's mom and kids are typically more anxious about approval from parents than from siblings, especially when Eda didn't care for Lilith's approval on account of admittedly not respecting her that much. Lilith eventually DID offer to heal Eda's curse once Belos started promising post-series premiere, but the habit had only just begun and she backed off the first time, and when she tried again that was also when Luz got threatened, and we saw how enraged Eda was up until Lilith changed for her.

I just find it interesting how without even meaning to, Gwen hits so much closer to home than Lilith ever did with her explicit jabs; Because they're poking at different aspects of Eda that she has different levels of confidence about, and there's a different power dynamic in each relationship too. Gwen didn't have any sway over Eda by adulthood, but her role as a larger figure would've still been ingrained in Eda growing up, just as Lilith being an equal, sometimes subconsciously lower, peer was.

Hence, Eda wanting to bring things back to good old times with Lilith and how they used to be troublemaking partners in crime and Lily could only follow, never stop her, whereas with her mother, not so much when Gwen was much more effective at imposing rules in Eda's childhood, and as an adult, that was traded out for a whole 'nother issue. By the end of the day, Eda did react to Lilith with initial hostility in S1 before defaulting back to old dynamics, so I wonder if during the thirty-year gap, there were ever encounters with her mother that weren't all bad and even a little comforting? Like when Gwen learned King was adopted.

And though we did see Lilith did take potshots at Eda's curse from time to time, I also think that with Eda and Gwen, Eda always subconsciously relied on her parents to be nurturing, supportive figures, so it felt like a particularly stinging betrayal when Gwen made her feel ashamed over the curse; Whereas again, Eda always kinda downplayed and underestimated Lilith's vitriol as siblings being siblings, unaware of how there was legit resentment. So Eda was less dependent on Lilith's support on account of recognizing herself as the more forward one, and thus less hurt (at least until Agony of a Witch) VS a parent whose approval meant more...

Plus I think Gwen's obsession was linked to Dell being disabled by the curse and Eda knew it, so it felt like she'd already lost one parent, and now the other one was blaming her for it, thereby exacerbating Eda's particular guilt over all that and making Gwen's attempts to help feel so much more damaging. Meanwhile Lilith was less linked to their parents, which was also another big factor in her complex.

[rolanastarionmycat]

Rolan's Occupant

Rolan had enjoyed his new company more than he expected. This Tav had deterred his rash and admittedly cowardly behavior when the goblins first found the grove. Now he stood in the tower he once apprenticed as its master and she came around often. Cal and Lia were safe and had their own homes now in the city but nearby. Despite the bustling business below, the private upper levels were quiet and lonely. Tav's frequent visits led Rolan to make a space for her, often their readings and discussions went into the late night hours, hours he'd rather she not travel the streets of the city alone. Rolan escorted Tav holding them both under a glamor of invisibility. A feat that was not unnoticed and was appreciated. Tav had last invited Rolan to rest in her new home, for she felt that it would be good for Rolan to experience different scenery. With heat to his cheeks, Rolan would always refuse and travel back to his tower. Sleep would not come easy as the spark in her eyes and the smile on her lips, the shape of her lips, would remain present in his mind urging his hands beneath his bedsheets. Imagining those eyes gazing up at him with hands caressing the base of his cock and balls.

In Tav's presence it took much to maintain his blood from rushing down to where he would ache as her scent swept enveloped him in their hours together. The last evening Rolan had failed to maintain his desires and remained seated most of the time Tav was at his tower with several books on his lap whilst she sat close by. This evening the same was occurring, only difference was that Tav's head rested on his shoulder and the books were nearing to not be heavy enough to keep his hardness down. Her book was down on her lap as well but glancing down at her only lead to more frustration for Rolan. This night she wore a gown that held the top of her chest firmly in view. The imagine of her soft skin and the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, it was becoming difficult to bear. So, Rolan focused on his book until Tav huffed in frustration, moving herself to face him. Her sudden movement and her annoyed expression made Rolan anxious until she leaned forward, bringing her hands to his face, bringing her lips to his. His anxiety turned to his desire as the books he had used to weigh himself down fell to the floor in front of them. Her tongue found his and their lips danced with their tongues.

Tav moved to straddle Rolan. Bunching the skirts of her dress to sit onto his thighs comfortable. To her surprise she felt the tent in his pants held firm with his hardness beneath. Rolan wrapped his arms around her, pleading to remain with him. Tav kissed Rolan deeply before shifting her dress a bit differently then unbuttoning his pants. Rolan moved a hand to aide in removing his underwear enough to free his cock from his clothing. Tav moved her own underwear aside before gently holding onto Rolan's hardness and lowering herself enough to rub his head between her wet lips. A groan came from Rolan immediately and his hips jilted upward giving more pressure between her lips. A moan-like sigh came from Tav as she continued to rub his head against her, finding herself moving her hips to feel him against her clit. Rolan pulled her closer to his chest as they kissed.

Heat filled Rolan's face as his head began to ache. Becoming more sensitive with the constant contact of Tav rubbing herself onto him.

"Please…." He whimpered. Tav did not change her pace but looked into Rolan's eyes.

"Please….please……"He continued to whimper and Tav kissed him lightly before she held him just at the right angle before lowering herself onto his lap, not stopping until she sat fully on his thighs. A load moan sounded from those lips he dreamed of as she took all of him within her. A groan and grunt escaped his lips before he could register the sounds. She was warm and soft all at once and still Rolan felt that she needed to be closer.

Rolan held onto her hips and began to manually rock Tav back and forth on his lap, not moving himself but essentially having her grind against him. They kissed again, their lips trying to convey words between each kiss. Rolan moved his hands to Tav's thighs, pushing her away and a few inches off his cock before pulling her back fully into embracing him. Tav kissed Rolan, bringing a hand to hold onto the back of his hair as she shifted slightly upward before she set Rolan's world into deeper pleasure. Tav began to bounce herself up and down in small movements on his lap, lifting from him only to take it all back. Over and over. Within moments Rolan was groaning and moaning, kissing and biting at Tav's neck as she also gasped and moaned at the feeling of him being moved in and out and then in again. She felt him begin to twitch but did not change her pace. She wanted this for too long. Rolan held her close as his cum began to shoot into her, leaning back, holding her still against him then with what sanity remained in his mind he thrust his hips into her with loud audible slaps. His balls clapping against her skin with each thrust. He filled her and continued, too lost in the ecstasy to stop even as Tav began to moan uncontrollably and clench around him. He was still cumming and had not stopped. He had wanted this for so long as well.

The remains of Tav's dress had tears and stains of wet fluids from them both. His cum had filled her completely and mixed with hers between their thighs. The mixture of themselves left a sweet scent in the air as something primal in Rolan wanted something further. Both were spent, holding each other in their arms whist kissing and withstanding the aftershocks of their orgasms in stride. Sweet nothings were whispered and declared into the late hours of the night until Rolan and Tav separated. The couch which they sat was not a ruin but the stains would undoubtedly remain. Tav smiled at Rolan, holding onto his arms and interlacing their fingers, kissing his jaw.

"It could go in my bedroom…." Rolan nodded to Tav's suggestion before stepping away from his newfound lover, moving his hands and speaking words to shrink the couch which they had just made their mark. Under his invisibility spell the couple traveled to Tav's home and once again she invited him inside. This time, he came in and Tav's bed was shortly the next piece of furniture marked by their desire for one another.

[walkawaytall]

i would love to hear more about your opinions on LM Montgomery's works 👀

Oh, hi! Thanks for dropping me a note. So, I really have only read her Anne books (and, oddly, have yet to read Rilla of Ingleside). I enjoyed them as a preteen, and Anne was one of several fictional redheads that made me want red hair so badly as a kid :D.

I really started to love the books a lot more as an adult. I was working a job that involved a lot of sort of mindless work, which allowed me to listen to audiobooks and podcasts. I got hooked on LibriVox, which is a site that offers free audiobooks of works in the public domain, read by volunteers. I specifically really liked dramatic readings, and thoroughly enjoyed the Anne books that were available via dramatic reading (as well as Little Women and Pride and Prejudice).

I really enjoyed all of the books, but Anne of the Island and Anne's House of Dreams were my favorite. All the girls at Patty's Place in Anne of the Island reminded me a bit of this house I lived in shortly after moving out of my parents' house for good. I lived there with some women I knew through school and church, and we were all varying levels of friends. It was a really sweet, fun time, and I love being reminded of those years.

But, I'm also all for emotional works, and I think that's why I love Anne's House of Dreams best. I really like Anne and Gilbert together, I like the domesticity of them building a life together after they get married in this new place, and I really like all of the new characters as well. Additionally, I like the way the book handled death and tragedy. Anne's proclamation after the loss of Joyce that, "The thought that it may stop hurting sometimes hurts me worse than all else[...]", is something I think anyone who has lost a loved one can relate to. Some of the plot points are a bit more fantastical than the other books, but I still really enjoy it. I like when things work out in the end, even if there is a great deal of heartbreak in the midst of a story, and I think Anne's House of Dreams does just that.

Oh, and since it's on topic, I thought I might share this YouTube channel that I really enjoyed back when they were actively posting videos. Green Gables Fables is a modern take on some of the Anne books, told via vlog, similar to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (though, GGF was done by a bunch of students -- it is admittedly much lower-budget and less-polished than LBD, but I still think it's great). I highly suggest watching using the playlists for Season One and Season Two, as these contain vlogs by characters other than Anne that help fill out the story and that are easy to miss if you're not aware of all the characters' account names. If you want to like...grow attached to Ruby Gillis, this may be the series for you!

If you're interested in the LibriVox dramatic readings I mentioned, they are here (I usually used the iTunes subscription option, I think, since I was always taught not to just download random files from websites. Haha...But I also have no idea if that still even works.):

Anne of Green Gables

Anne of Avonlea

Anne of the Island

Anne's House of Dreams

The quality of reading varies because these are volunteers, but I really like Arielle Lipshaw, who acts as both narrator and the voice of Anne, so I found them really fun and engaging.

[nerves-nebula]

Very interested in Hondo rn, bc he started out being abusive @ Quinn (?). What did his character used to be like, and how would u say they’ve changed?

Yea so Hondo, like Quinn, has really on maintained surface level similarities to their original concepts. Same look, same smugness & sass etc. but the original idea of his character that I made up when I was like 13 was a racist sexually abusive slave owner. Quinn was his slave, and Thatcher was his friend who was like “hey I don’t think it’s good to have slaves maybe?”

They were an abysmally dysfunctional and abusive trio who were like kind of friends and kind of not. Quinn could never fully be their peer cuz they were a slave obviously. Thatcher was of lower status than Hondo too, but admittedly not by much. Quinn was raised alongside Thatcher and Hondo but you know. As a “companion” for them. Wasn’t great.

Honestly the character that’s changed the least is Thatcher. Thatcher always had a kind of strong moral compass/emotional reaction to injustice, but was also afraid to rock the boat. Slavery was the norm in their high status households and Thatcher didn’t think it was right but also didn’t see how they alone could change it. Thatcher might’ve been feeding info to anti slavery groups tho cuz they felt it was all they could do, but for the most part they saw themselves as kind of a stagnant coward and covered it up with an upbeat & boisterous attitude.

Anyway Hondo and Quinn fucking hated each other. Ok it was mostly Quinn hating Hondo but it went both ways on occasion. Lots of gratuitous humiliation and abuse cuz I was 13.

Then I was like hm actually I don’t really want to write about slavery I don’t think I’d do a good job handling the topic. and totally uprooted the whole story. Hondo became rich a sexually abusive best friend in the dreaded three person friendship group.

And then stuff kind of just kept drifting over the years between little tweaks and lore adjustments until Clement popped up and ended up taking on the role of “high society serial sexual abuser” and Hondo became something else entirely.

Now Hondo is a normal, somewhat bitter guy in a poly relationship with a high priest and a dancer, who he’s been friends with his entire life. He’s a part of a persecuted minority religious group and is still snarky and sarcastic but like. He’s a fully different man. Modern Hondo would eviscerate his progenitor no questions asked.

He still does some fucked up things tho don’t worry :3 they’re just if a different nature

[scribbling-dragon]

Crown of Antlers

Chapter 7: Negotiations on Violence

summary:

A quiet morning, filled with curious onlookers and a negotiation that should have happened a few days ago.

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The Library is busier than it was the evening prior, though that may be more to do with the late hour rather than everyone simply choosing to come to the library on this specific morning. It might also be examination season- he stopped paying attention to when the end of course examinations were a few centuries ago, relying on watching Cormac for more stress than normal and for the Library to be busier than it usually is.

Scott has to manoeuvre them around several groups of overtired students, each of them standing right in his path. They seem unaware of the inconvenience they pose to him, and he has to nudge a few of them out of the way when they continue to stare off into space. He finds himself reluctant, but admittedly curious in the end, as to what they’ve consumed in order to be standing at this very moment. From his experience, the older students (those that have already been studying for a few years and so the shine of their experience has dulled a little) prefer not to emerge from their homes until well past noon.

One student grabs his friend when they don’t move from his path after the first nudge, yanking on the friend’s arm to clear the path for him and Jimmy.

“Thank you,” he nods to the student as he moves past, slowly so he doesn’t bump into the back of another student. Jimmy squeezes himself through the crowds after him, floundering for a moment as he attempts to avoid elbowing a student out of the way, giving up, and latching onto the back of Scott’s cloak to avoid them being separated again. He pretends not to notice it, even as Jimmy presses himself much closer, the warmth of his body seeping into Scott’s own.

He moves away quickly after that, Jimmy’s grasp on his cloak almost choking him as he moves away from the sudden warmth. It sends an odd sensation down his spine, and he tries not to focus on it too much, rubbing a hand up and down his arm as he slips between two groups of students.

No doubt Leukos is losing their mind, slowly, from wherever they currently are. He’s surprised they haven’t appeared yet to chase the students away, wings spread to make themselves appear taller and larger than they actually are. Surprisingly enough, Leukos is rather talented at forcing people to scatter, despite their unassuming appearance. He has, however, also witnessed them hit someone over the head with a thick tome before, so maybe that fear is warranted.

It only takes them a few extra minutes to find a mostly empty table, sitting at one end so they don’t disturb the student at the other end. He winces in sympathy as he glances over her shoulder, scanning a few lines of text and identifying it as an astronomy book. Sleep is fleeting for those that choose to study astronomy, and she doesn’t look as though she’s faring particularly well with the challenge.

He sets their books down on the table gently, distributing them evenly between himself and Jimmy before he sits down too. Jimmy sits across from him, not taking his cloak off even as Scott drapes his own over the back of the chair. It adds a little extra padding to these frankly rather uncomfortable chairs. He raises an eyebrow at Jimmy, and his lack of movement to remove his outerwear.

Jimmy meets his eyes across the table and shivers, rather pointedly, then tucks the cloak a little further around his shoulders. As far as he knows the ocean is rather cold at the lower levels, where light rarely reaches, so for Jimmy to be so susceptible to the cold still…it’s odd, to say the least. Though perhaps he has just become accustomed to the warm waters of the swampland.

He contents himself with making the occasional note (on another sheet of paper, not in the margins of the book, he’s many things but suicidal is not one of them; he prefers to remaining in Leukos’ good books) as he flips through the first of many books. It’s not particularly interesting, but research is a necessary evil, as much as he may hate it.

Jimmy seems to be taking a more active stance for his dislike of research. In that he has a book open in front of him, though he is not reading it. He hasn’t turned a page in the last twenty minutes, and he had flicked aimlessly through the pages for a solid fifteen minutes before that. Scott doesn’t comment on it, as commenting on it would mean revealing that he had noticed Jimmy’s lack of reading.

Jimmy seems to be keeping himself occupied at least. The last few times Scott looked up, he found Jimmy watching him, eyes tracking over his face. It would be an odd feeling, if he weren’t so used to people watching him wherever he went. Inside of Rivendell, he was their Elvenking, as thus drew attention wherever he went; outside of Rivendell, he was elven, which was enough to draw the eye of many towards him.

He's also been called many complimentary things in his time, ranging from beautiful to handsome. Compared to a porcelain doll, once, though that was a rather odd compliment compared to any others he’s ever received.

He isn’t surprised that Jimmy is taking the opportunity to watch him, even if the neighbouring tables of students are now taking the opportunity to make fun of him for his staring. He would have to be some kind of idiot not to realise that Jimmy was attracted to him, especially with how fast his heart beat in his presence and how often he blushed when Scott directed a majority of his attention over towards him. Not how he had imagined the Codfather to act with an infatuation, but he supposes it can bring out something new in every person.

Still, he might have to make his staring less obvious if he wants Scott to continue pretending he doesn’t notice it.

For example, Jimmy has not noticed the several times he’s glanced at him in the last few minutes, admiring him in return. His scales glint rather nicely beneath the natural light of the Library, shimmering over his cheekbones and seemingly disappearing into his hair. They're like a pattern of freckles, covering large patches of skin. He’s also, admittedly, curious as to how far those scales go. He has some on the backs of his hands, and across the skin of his arms, but everything else is rather covered up.

Jimmy does not notice him watching him in return, because Scott is able to keep up the illusion of studying the text and making notes. He only pays half of his attention to the information he’s reading, instead seeing how many different ways he can watch Jimmy without him, or anyone around them, noticing.

He saw the group of Cormac’s apprentices nearby when they took a seat, and he’s not stupid. Anything that happens with Jimmy and him is going immediately back to xem; he suspects he placed his apprentices there for the sole purpose of watching him and Jimmy interact. Truly, xe act as though having an open and honest conversation with him is the worst experience ever, resorting instead to spying on him at the expense of his poor apprentices.

He would be embarrassed at his own actions, if Jimmy weren’t so intriguing. He keeps himself carefully shielded, and yet wears his heart on his sleeve. He seems to enjoy the quiet and calm, though only when he has something to occupy himself with, and yet he seems to stoke conflict wherever he goes. Though whether the latter is on purpose is still to be determined, and also not a question to ask in public, where it is likely to stoke conflict.

As such, he is able to appreciate the small glances he steals at Jimmy when the man looks away, attempting to keep up the pretence of reading. Perhaps his parents would be disappointed in him, though likely for his lack of courting manners than anything else.

…They would also probably hate everything about Jimmy.

Well. Maybe his mother will roll in her grave if he actually attempts to court Jimmy, though that is something that needs far more thought and also a discussion with his Court. Not something to attempt on a whim.

In the end, Jimmy lasts a shocking fifty-seven minutes before he gets too bored to remain silent.

“Is there any point to doing this still?” Jimmy asks. One of the books is splayed open in front of him, though Jimmy hasn’t turned a single page. Instead, he watches Scott with a strange kind of intensity.

Scott sits up from where he was hunched over his own book, leaning against the back of his chair as he considers Jimmy. He looks a little frustrated, and he shivers again as Scott looks at him, cold even with how he’s swathed in some of the most expensive furs in the empire.

“Whatever do you mean?” He taps a finger against the page, the small sound enough to pull Jimmy’s eyes from his face for a moment. He looks back again once he’s found the source of the sound, eyes still containing the same, odd intensity. “Is the information something that you already possess? Or are the techniques not achievable for the problem at hand?”

“No, it’s all- it’s fine,” Jimmy huffs out a sigh. “But it’s not what I wanted. Or expected. This is all,” he gestures aimlessly, “it’s great, but we had a deal with our alliance. I mean, the help with this problem is appreciated, of course, but I was expecting your help in other areas too.”

Jimmy scowls at him, then seems to remember who he is looking at and where he is. He looks down at the book in front of him, staring at the page for a moment longer before he slams it shut. The sound alone is enough to draw eyes towards them, and Jimmy’s hushed voice had already pulled the attention of several students towards them.

He sighs, closing his own book as well. “And yet you neglected to bring it up the entirety of yesterday; there were several opportunities for you to demand that we lay out a proper agreement of terms for this alliance, but it seemed as though you were content to sit around and find solutions for your current problem.”

Jimmy hisses out a breath, glancing around at their silent audience. They really are doing their best to pretend they're not eavesdropping on this conversation. He sighs silently and resigns himself to dealing with his Court this evening, once the rumours reach them.

“I came to you with a proposal for revenge, something that you seemed happy to help with seeing as you waited for me,” Jimmy says. “I can solve things myself, what I want is for you to help me with that, not the environmental problems we’ve got going on. Or did you forget what our agreement was about?”

“I did not forget.” Suggesting that such a powerful fae would somehow manage to forget a bargain delivered to them is almost laughable. He smiles gently at Jimmy, only because he is rather fond of the Codfather, and continues quieter, so their audience will have a harder time listening in. “Don’t mislead yourself in thinking that this was only me whiling away time, you were rather content to follow along with my whims, hm? I cannot stand people that do not put their foot down and demand respect, and I will not stand beside someone that is content to roll over when he is told to.”

Jimmy’s eyes narrow at the veiled insult. “Meaning this was all some messed up test.”

“Precisely.”

Jimmy snorts and leans back. “I can see why you don’t have many allies.”

“I can also see why you don’t have many.” He smiles as Jimmy looks back at him. “You're a rather volatile man, seeming calm and relaxed until you're nudged over some invisible line, and then it’s just as though some switch has been flipped.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis, “And you're suddenly the worst of enemies.”

“The Grimlands and the Cod Empire have been at odds for longer than I've been alive.”

“That may be true…but,” he glances around, watching as several heads turn away from him quickly. Still pretending as though they aren’t listening. He sighs, “Let us discuss this elsewhere, away from prying ears and eyes.”

“And the books?”

“We can return them to Eilianther on our way out, I'm sure they're eager to have them back after so long on reserve.” He stands gracefully, almost painfully aware of the eyes still weighing heavy on his back. No doubt they're simply bursting with the need to speak about him, but they won’t dare to do it until he is safely out of earshot. He pulls his cloak back on, disappointed that they only managed to spend an hour in the Library before they're leaving again.

No matter, he has far more important things to attend to.

 === === ===

 “Leukos,” he greets the Librarian, surprised to see them at their desk for once. They make a noise in greeting, though they don’t look away from the book they're repairing, poking gingerly at the damaged binding on the spine. “I apologise for reserving these for so long, I wasn’t certain of when they would be needed.”

“Funnily enough, books on Oceanic methods of dealing with coastal hazards and management techniques are not in high demand. It wasn’t any hardship for me to pull them from the shelves for a few weeks.”

He hums, setting the books down on the edge that looks the least precarious, and also has the fewest books already stacked there. He takes the books that Jimmy is carrying too, setting them carefully on top. It’s a rather delicate balancing act, one that Leukos watches from the corner of their eye as they continue fussing over the damaged book.

“You look tired,” he comments, for lack of anything else to say. Jimmy makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the continued conversation; though whether it is out of an eagerness to discuss the true purpose of their alliance or his distaste for not being able to understand the conversation, he’s not sure. “Trouble sleeping?”

The top half of the book stack wobbles dangerously, and he nudges it until it looks a little more balanced. He much prefers returning his books without the risk of being gutted in broad daylight by one of his most loyal.

Leukos smiles a little at his tease, pausing in their work to look at him properly. They do look rather tired, more than normal at least. “You look tired as well, your new friend keep you up late into the night?” Their eyes flicker over to Jimmy for a moment then back to him, still smiling. “Everyone’s talking about him- have you run into Axen yet? They look ready to have an aneurysm, even worse once they heard about the whole cloak debacle.”

“They’ve dealt with worse,” he waves their concern away. “Am I dismissed, or do you want to inspect the books while I'm within reaching distance?”

“As though I could keep you here when you have somewhere else you would rather be,” Leukos is still smiling, watching him in a way that almost makes him swear to never poke fun at the Librarian again. “Or something- someone else you’d rather be doing.”

“That’s crass.”

Leukos doesn’t respond to his last comment, smiling a little self-satisfied smile that succeeds rather thoroughly in irritating Scott. It almost feels like there’s something crawling beneath his skin as he walks away. His retreat doesn’t at all look like one – he cannot have their onlookers thinking Leukos holds some power over him – because he’s not actually retreating. He’s simply walking away at a normal pace.

“Do you know how annoying it is when you do that?”

“No,” he smiles down at Jimmy. “Please, do enlighten me though.”

Jimmy squints up at him. “No…I don’t want to.”

 === === ===

His office is pleasantly warm when they step in through the door, someone having been in prior to their arrival to build a fire in the hearth. It crackles happily in the corner of the room, several logs already stacked beside it and ready to be added when needed. Jimmy makes an immediate beeline for one of the seats in front of the fire, making himself perfectly comfortable without even asking.

Apparently, his previous hesitance around Scott up and left after this morning. It leaves Scott feeling a little off-balance as he readjusts to the concept of Jimmy as someone more willing to speak his mind and push back. He’s not sure what the turning point was, but he’s rather glad that it happened now rather than later; he was certain to begin performing acts of violence if Jimmy continued to act all the subdued, and not at all like the person he interacts with at their meetings.

Urith watches him silently from her perch behind his desk chair, but refuses to come over when he offers her an arm. He leaves her to sulk in the corner of the room, slipping out of his cloak and hanging it up before he sits across from Jimmy.

“So,” he folds his hands neatly in his lap, “what were your ideas for…certain revenge?”

“Killing livestock.” Jimmy doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe strike a little more fear into the hearts of their citizens. Spread distrust. Inconvenience them, I don’t know; the plan didn’t get beyond get revenge at any point.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?” Jimmy repeats. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“It means that I am thinking.” He frowns at Jimmy. “It might be an unfamiliar concept to you,” he teases, “but I prefer to think and jump in feet-first – I have a better chance of landing and succeeding.”

“Has anyone ever told you you're shit at metaphors?”

“Only just now, though I appreciate the feedback.”

“You're very welcome.”

“Violence may not be the best first response,” he redirects their conversation back to the original point. “Perhaps a diplomatic discussion, with the assistance of your allies this time around- no, listen to me,” Jimmy snaps his mouth shut, though he looks annoyed about it. “If you want your grievances to be listened to, you need the backing of at least one of your allies, even better if you can get more than that. You have me, now, and I'm certain you can sway both the Ocean Queen and Mad King to your cause.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“My apologies,” it had simply been habit, an embarrassing slip that he now needs to make up for. “The Mezalean King and Ocean Queen should be willing to back you up. Of course, Katherine will remain impartial in this conflict, meaning you will need to convince her of the severity of this problem.”

“And then what? They don’t enjoy listening to me, so what happens when it doesn’t work?”

“You don’t know that it won’t work.”

“Humour me.” Jimmy says, with a straight face. His arms are crossed, and Scott sighs, knowing that anything he tries to say and reason with will simply be ignored.

“Then we can go about it your way of things; violence and whatever else your heart demands.”

“And you’ll help?”

“Of course, I am not one to betray a deal like that.” He watches as Urith lands on Jimmy’s chair, claws scraping over the wood as she perches herself on the back. Jimmy doesn’t notice her, even as she bends down to peer at him. “Though if you wish to sow distrust among the members of the empire, there is an opportunity to do so rather soon.”

“I- what?” Jimmy blinks at him, and Scott gets to watch as everything slips into place. “No, no way, I am not chancing it. What if I ruin Li- their wedding?”

“I am more than happy to assist.”

“Yeah, no.” Jimmy sits back in his seat. “Not happening, she’ll kill me, and then probably try and kill you too.”

“She can certainly try.” He smirks, “And wouldn’t it just be so fun?”

“I- no.” Jimmy frowns. “Scott, no. Gods, why am I the one doing this now, I wanted the violence- but not at a wedding!”

“You still have time to change your mind.”

“I'm not going to!”