#am i capable of being brief Ever

[reasonsforhope]

"As a Deaf man, Adam Munder has long been advocating for communication rights in a world that chiefly caters to hearing people. 

The Intel software engineer and his wife — who is also Deaf — are often unable to use American Sign Language in daily interactions, instead defaulting to texting on a smartphone or passing a pen and paper back and forth with service workers, teachers, and lawyers. 

It can make simple tasks, like ordering coffee, more complicated than it should be. 

But there are life events that hold greater weight than a cup of coffee. 

Recently, Munder and his wife took their daughter in for a doctor’s appointment — and no interpreter was available. 

To their surprise, their doctor said: “It’s alright, we’ll just have your daughter interpret for you!” ...

That day at the doctor’s office came at the heels of a thousand frustrating interactions and miscommunications — and Munder is not isolated in his experience.

“Where I live in Arizona, there are more than 1.1 million individuals with a hearing loss,” Munder said, “and only about 400 licensed interpreters.”

In addition to being hard to find, interpreters are expensive. And texting and writing aren’t always practical options — they leave out the emotion, detail, and nuance of a spoken conversation. 

ASL is a rich, complex language with its own grammar and culture; a subtle change in speed, direction, facial expression, or gesture can completely change the meaning and tone of a sign. 

“Writing back and forth on paper and pen or using a smartphone to text is not equivalent to American Sign Language,” Munder emphasized. “The details and nuance that make us human are lost in both our personal and business conversations.”

His solution? An AI-powered platform called Omnibridge. 

“My team has established this bridge between the Deaf world and the hearing world, bringing these worlds together without forcing one to adapt to the other,” Munder said. 

Trained on thousands of signs, Omnibridge is engineered to transcribe spoken English and interpret sign language on screen in seconds...

“Our dream is that the technology will be available to everyone, everywhere,” Munder said. “I feel like three to four years from now, we're going to have an app on a phone. Our team has already started working on a cloud-based product, and we're hoping that will be an easy switch from cloud to mobile to an app.” ...

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence. "

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024. More info below the cut!

To test an alpha version of his invention, Munder welcomed TED associate Hasiba Haq on stage. 

“I want to show you how this could have changed my interaction at the doctor appointment, had this been available,” Munder said. 

He went on to explain that the software would generate a bi-directional conversation, in which Munder’s signs would appear as blue text and spoken word would appear in gray. 

At first, there was a brief hiccup on the TED stage. Haq, who was standing in as the doctor’s office receptionist, spoke — but the screen remained blank. 

“I don’t believe this; this is the first time that AI has ever failed,” Munder joked, getting a big laugh from the crowd. “Thanks for your patience.”

After a quick reboot, they rolled with the punches and tried again.

Haq asked: “Hi, how’s it going?” 

Her words popped up in blue. 

Munder signed in reply: “I am good.” 

His response popped up in gray. 

Back and forth, they recreated the scene from the doctor’s office. But this time Munder retained his autonomy, and no one suggested a 7-year-old should play interpreter. 

Munder’s TED debut and tech demonstration didn’t happen overnight — the engineer has been working on Omnibridge for over a decade. 

“It takes a lot to build something like this,” Munder told Good Good Good in an exclusive interview, communicating with our team in ASL. “It couldn't just be one or two people. It takes a large team, a lot of resources, millions and millions of dollars to work on a project like this.” 

After five years of pitching and research, Intel handpicked Munder’s team for a specialty training program. It was through that backing that Omnibridge began to truly take shape...

“Our dream is that the technology will be available to everyone, everywhere,” Munder said. “I feel like three to four years from now, we're going to have an app on a phone. Our team has already started working on a cloud-based product, and we're hoping that will be an easy switch from cloud to mobile to an app.” 

In order to achieve that dream — of transposing their technology to a smartphone — Munder and his team have to play a bit of a waiting game. Today, their platform necessitates building the technology on a PC, with an AI engine. 

“A lot of things don't have those AI PC types of chips,” Munder explained. “But as the technology evolves, we expect that smartphones will start to include AI engines. They'll start to include the capability in processing within smartphones. It will take time for the technology to catch up to it, and it probably won't need the power that we're requiring right now on a PC.” 

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence. 

But it is more than a transcription service — it allows people to have face-to-face conversations with each other. There’s a world of difference between passing around a phone or pen and paper and looking someone in the eyes when you speak to them. 

It also allows Deaf people to speak ASL directly, without doing the mental gymnastics of translating their words into English.

“For me, English is my second language,” Munder told Good Good Good. “So when I write in English, I have to think: How am I going to adjust the words? How am I going to write it just right so somebody can understand me? It takes me some time and effort, and it's hard for me to express myself actually in doing that. This technology allows someone to be able to express themselves in their native language.” 

Ultimately, Munder said that Omnibridge is about “bringing humanity back” to these conversations. 

“We’re changing the world through the power of AI, not just revolutionizing technology, but enhancing that human connection,” Munder said at the end of his TED Talk. 

“It’s two languages,” he concluded, “signed and spoken, in one seamless conversation.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024

[cherubfae]

𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 || {𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢}

tags: fluff, shy!gn!reader, ftm!reader for Angel 💕 crushing/mutual pining, pre-established relationships, blitz's relationship/intimacy issues (but we gonna get that healthy growth we need), striker's is a bit suggestive!

Alastor

You weren't sure the barrier of touching Alastor would ever be something that would be crossed and you told yourself that you didn't mind. You chose to revel in the moments of when he sought out affections and physical closeness be it dancing or if he suddenly tugs you in to tell you something. Alastor is not very privy to other people's space and Heaven forbid someone enter his without permission. Quite the contradiction.

Now, if he notices you're purposely not trying to give him any sort of touch or affection, he will get rather annoyed. You, darling, are the only one who he doesn't mind touching him. Has he expressed this? No. Will he? Maybe. Did he expect you to be able to read his mind? Quite possibly.

Alastor hoped to have made a smoother transition rather than just outright grasping your hand. Even he seemed surprised by his own action, static feedback chirping from him. His ears flick and the slightest sliver of a blush creeps from beneath his suit collar.

"I don't mind if it's you, dearest. I... I don't detest your touch as much as the others." Alastor clears his throat, his large hand briefly covers your smaller one. Giving your hand a little squeeze, he stands abruptly and disappears into shadow and darkness.

You'd never seen Alastor embarrassed before. How cute.

Lucifer

He's a pretty affectionate guy, especially once he's comfortable around you! His heart warms as you mindlessly play with your fingers, eyes looking everywhere but at him. The more you feel his stare, the more the blush darkens on your face.

"Take it easy there, sweetling," Lucifer's soft tone eases your senses. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, he pulls back. He offers his hand, palm upwards, giving you time to back away. His gentle smile deepens when you slip your hand in his, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. Tugging you to his side gently, your shoulders brushing, you continue on the sidewalk towards Hell's finest local café.

Husk

While not one for PDA, Husk doesn't mind affection behind closed doors. Preferably out of sight of anyone who may mock and tease him for it.

He didn't however expect you to be sitting on his bed, thumbs lightly pressing into the center of his paw watching his claws go from being exposed and then retracting thanks to your gentle manipulations. He snorts lightly, as silly as you were, he couldn't be mad at your fascination.

"You're lucky you're cute, hun. If you were anyone else I may not be as nice as I am with ya." Husk smirks. Maintaining complete eye contact, you raise his paw to your lips and give it a soft kiss, grinning as Husk jolts with a huffy mrow. "Sneaky brat," he sighs, falling back on his bed with an arm over his eyes.

Angel Dust

You want to hold his hand? Which one, babe? He's got six! :) Angel is understanding of your shy nature, though he hopes you'll be able to be more bold with him in the future. He won't pressure you, of course, but he wants you to know that you can trust him. That he is capable of taking things slow.

"Is this okay?" Angel asks, softly grasping your hand in his gloved one. When you make no move to pull from his touch, a happy wobbly smile wiggles onto his face. He lightly leans his cheek against the top of your head, a brief sign of his affection. He can snuggle you more later, but for now, he wants to enjoy the day with his favorite person.♡

Vox

Intimacy of any sorts isn't foreign to him, but he's not used to someone so good, so pure. And he's certainly not used to that innocent attention being directed at him. Any time you touch him, even if you only accidentally brushed past him, it leaves him buzzing. Craving for something more. He wants your sweet smile to be directed at him and him alone. It takes everything in Vox not to scream when you give his hand a small squeeze only to pull back, muttering apologies. Soon, he's reaching for you again, taking your hand in his.

"I didn't say that I hated it." Vox whispered in an uncharacteristically soft way. His eyes flicker up to your face, then back to see where his hand has dwarfed yours. With his free hand falling to your hip, lightly stroking circles there, he pulls you to stand between his legs. Your other arm slides to rest on his shoulder as his clawed hand curls around the back of your knee. Intimate but not forceful. There's no aggression in his movements. Lifting your head towards him, even with Vox sitting down, he's much taller than you. His eyes hold a silent question, one that you answer with that smile he loves so much and a nod, and his lips press to yours with your hands still joined.

Blitzø

Romantic gestures are a big deal for him. Big in the way that he struggles with them, but that he doesn't want it to be something that holds him back. He really doesn't. Familial and platonic he understands, but Blitz is pretty damned confused with the fact that you want to even be near someone like him. He doesn't want to inadvertently hurt you by acting how he does. He doesn't wanna fuck up, but goddammit, he really does want to be near you. He wants to be able to give you everything you could need and more, he just doesn't know how. How to unfuck himself.

"Sl-slow," Blitz's voice betrays him with a crack and he swallows thickly, taking your hand in his. Ever grateful that you're the ones in I.M.P right now. This is different. Intimate. He's shaky, palms sweaty. His brain feels foggy and it's suddenly hotter than normal. He feels dizzy and like the floor may break beneath his feet and swallow him whole. The second you start to withdraw, he's tugging you back to him with a soft, raspy, "No." This is progress. Progress is good.

Facing him now, your other hand slides up to his. Both your palms are pressed together. Blitz keeps his gaze on the floor, unable to help how fidgety he feels, even as he laces your fingers together, and leans his head onto your shoulder. He's not gonna let you pull away. Not yet. Please...

Loona

Lighting up a cigarette, Loona leans her back against a wall of some dingy alleyway in the human world. You had chosen to wait with her, both dressed in your human disguises, hoping that any second Blitz and M&M would return with the mission completed. Your sole purpose tonight had been to guard Stolas's grimoire and open the portal when everyone was ready to return home.

Blowing her smoke towards the sky, Loona hummed softly. "At least it's a nice night, huh?" She smiles lightly, grateful her tail was hidden in this form when you leaned against the wall beside her. You looked great; you always did.

A vast blue sky with billions of twinkling stars smiled down on you two. It was a nice change of pace from the hellish red glow of your home. This particular area of Earth was quiet. Peaceful, even. Nodding your head you smile at her, Loona swallows.

Her pinky finger lightly brushed your own, a gentle startled gasp leaving you. But you smile, albeit shyly, your hand taking hers. Not many words were exchanged, none needed to be. Just Loona smoking her cigarette and looking up at the stars.

Striker

Ain't you just the cutest little thing? You think he doesn't notice how worked up and shy you get when he's just finished wrangling in some dinner, with his bare, sweaty muscles on display. It's a direct, unvoiced invite for only you and yet you haven't taken him up on anything yet. Why?

"You scared of me, sugar?" Striker drawls, flicking his cigar butt into the dirt and crushing it with the heel of his boot. You look up at him with those big, beautiful doe eyes and adamantly shake your head that you weren't. "Then what is it, darlin'? Spit it out." He smirks, gold tooth glinting.

Cheeks heating, you gnaw on your lower lip. "I'd like to hold your hand." Striker blinks, clearly taken aback. That's it? You're getting so worked up like a nervous virgin begging for a thick cock because you want to... Hold his hand? He stops himself from laughing, he can tell that it's really bothering you. Heaving a sigh, Striker plops down beside you. Pulling you into his lap, his arms slide around your waist and he offers both his hands to you. He hides his reddening face at your back, the sound of his blood rushes in his ears, unable to focus on anything but how soft your hands are. And how well they fit into his. "Jus' do it then, they're yours to touch, ain't they?"

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[kykyonthemoon]

Comforting

When he comforts a reader who is so stressed and upset that she bursts into tears.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader (MC)

Included parts in order: Sylus, Caleb

This is the second part of the same prompt, for the two said characters, after my first one - "Soothing" for Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne.

── .✦ Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, comfort, long-distance relationship (Caleb's)

── .✦ Word count: 1k3

── .✦ Requested by Lightbook Aki

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Sylus

"Let's go." Sylus tossed you the key to one of the two motorcycles parking in front of the flat. You were puzzled:

“To where?”

“Anywhere you want. Just ride.”

After he finished speaking, he started his motorcycle. Its scream seemed like both an invitation and an urging to you. 

You put on the helmet. Even though you constantly mentioned that you wished to ride about the city with him at night, Sylus's arrival at your door so late at night seemed odd. Particularly since you were in such a bad mood. And was it Luke and Kieran that you had just seen earlier nearby?

The motorbike that Sylus chose for you was a bit smaller than his, and matched your physique well. You did not object anymore. And so your night out began. 

A cool night wind blew. You kept on riding, not knowing where you were heading. Sylus rode safely away from you while keeping you in sight. He would sometimes approach you, as if to remind you that he had always been by your side on this journey.

Away from the noise of the city, you chose to stop on a hill on the outskirts. Sylus pulled up behind you when you got off the motorcycle and removed your helmet.

Nobody uttered a thing. Sylus waited close, watching you go around, your feet stepping on the dirt and rocks below in discomfort. After a while, when he realized he had no way of keeping you like that, Sylus approached you and gently seized your elbow, drawing you back to look at him.

"If the ride wasn't so enjoyable, we can go further."

"No... I just..." You halted because you were unsure if you should tell him or not. Was it appropriate to share such private emotions given that the two of you had just recently met?

"How do you know that I need a change of scenery? Was it Mephisto again?"

Sylus grinned. His index finger curled, and he swiped it over your nose. "Your thoughts are all reflected on your face like that. You haven't left your flat in days. Even without Mephisto, I suspect that something is wrong with you. Say it out. I am here to listen to you."

You took a brief glance at Sylus. The wind blew, ruffling the curls of hair on his forehead. You paused for a moment before telling him about how you ended up ending someone's life before they turned completely into a Wanderer on the last mission. That tormented you to no end.

When you finished the story, Sylus said: "You did what needed to be done. It wasn't your fault." He gently inclined his chin towards the gracefully illuminated city of Linkon on the horizon and continued, "This place is calm, thanks to you. You did very well."

That alone was enough to make you cry. You attempted to fight back your burning tears, but just as you were going to wipe them away and turn everywhere, Sylus grasped your hand tightly. His other hand caressed your cheek in a tender gesture, but did not wipe away your tears. He told you:

"Just let it all out."

And so you wept. You failed to recall the last time you ever sobbed like this. You had always believed that you were capable and powerful enough to battle Wanderers and defend others. But, in the end, you sought someone to tell you that you did the right thing by eliminating a soul's suffering, or that you did not have to bear it all on your own.

Sylus, resting on his motorcycle, softly raised your hand. His lips almost brushed it as he muttered, "Sometimes we have no option. Sometimes we have to deal with worse things than Wanderers. You just need to choose what is most important to you and do your best to protect it..."

Sylus halted and softly stroked your hand. His crimson eyes fixed on you, giving you an odd sense of reliability.

"Just like what I'm doing right now, protecting the most important person who is right in front of me."

Caleb

With a pleasant box of ice cream in hand, you sat on the porch of a closed business. It was dark, yet you refused to go home. You had been strolling the streets of Linkon all evening.

You did not have dinner yet. Both eyes were swollen. Your hair was a disaster. Everyone knew you had a rough day based on your look, and it was best for them to stay away from you. You searched for the phone in your coat pocket. A name displayed on the screen; it was Caleb's account.

But you sighed and put your phone away. These insignificant concerns were not worth his attention. You could manage it entirely on your own. You hoped that the next day, despite your current situation, you would return to your cheerful, active self. 

Opening the ice cream box, you began eating little spoonfuls. If Caleb was here, would it not be great? You would tell you about how you were bullied at work, unfairly accused, and how people turned their backs on you without knowing the whole story. But in the end, nothing was important anymore. Everything you could do to salvage the situation had been done. What you needed at that moment was a little consolation from someone, but that person was a long way from here.

You had learnt to handle challenges on your own when Caleb enrolled at the Academy in Skyhaven. You had always proven that you were mature and responsible enough not to disturb him. When you started this long-distance relationship, you knew he could not always come racing to you when you needed him, and there would be moments when you were entirely alone like this.

The ice cream box was about half-empty. The lightly inhabited street became even quieter. Perhaps you should go home. Still, tears went on falling. As the world faded away in weeping, you noticed that person's silhouette growing more and more apparent. Then a large hand rested on your head.

"You're all grown up, yet you're sobbing while eating ice cream here. Aren't you worried that others will laugh at you, pip-squeak?"

That voice belonged to Caleb. You rubbed your eyes. He instantly squatted in front of you, his mouth beaming and his hand aiding you in wiping away the tears.

"Caleb?"

He replied, "I'm here. Tell me. Who bullied my pipsqueak?"

You sniffled. Seeing him like that was a genuinely unexpected blessing. Of course, your spirit was also much lifted. You said:

"Who would dare to bully me? I just... wanted to eat ice cream. But how did you find me?"

"I received a call from Tara. She updated me on what occurred at work and then mentioned she could no longer contact you. She was concerned about something happening to you and asked me to reach out to you."

"Then… why did you come here instead of giving me a call?"

Caleb lightly squeezed your cheek. "If I called, you'd act as if nothing happened, right? You always go here for a box of ice cream when you're feeling low. That habit has not changed."

You had to confess that Caleb knew you too well. When you were depressed and didn't want to do anything else, he went out and bought you a box of ice cream from this store. He also said that as long as you had it, you would become happier. Since then, the ice cream here had served as your spiritual comfort whenever you started to feel down.

Caleb closed the ice cream box and held it in his free hand. He stood up and extended another hand towards you, saying: 

"Let's go home."

You felt instantly at ease. When Caleb helped you up, you grabbed his hand and leaped into his arms, hugging him by the neck hard. Perhaps as long as you had him, it did not matter anymore if the entire world turned against you.

Banner photos from Ghibli and screenshots by LittleBunnyCC

[vbecker10]

Language (Part 5)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.

Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?

You groan and open your eyes to the sound of your phone alarm. The sun has just started to rise, but you need to go home and get ready for work.

"Please turn that off," Loki mumbles against your back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and let go of his hand, freeing yourself from his embrace. You turn off your alarm and sit up, yawning.

"It's too early," he says, still half asleep. Eyes closed, his hand finds your waist and he gently pulls you back towards his body.

"I have to go home," you tell him but make you no attempt to pull away again.

"No," he says simply, his arm holding you in place.

"No?" you giggle at his unwillingness to let go of you. "I need to shower and get changed. I'm still wearing my clothes from yesterday."

"I have a fully functioning shower," Loki mumbles and you can hear the sarcasm in his voice despite him being so close to falling asleep. His legs intertwine with your legs and his hand holds yours as you both easily settle into the comfortable position he held you in all night. The God of Mischief adds, "And I am perfectly capable of conjuring clothing for you."

"I don't have a toothbrush or anything," you tell him, enjoying the feeling of Loki trying to keep you from leaving.

"Y/N, I can summon anything you need," he reminds you gently.

"I guess that's a good point," you say, having already made up your mind that you aren't going home before work.

"Please stay," he whispers close to your ear.

You smile and squeeze his hand, "Okay."

"Go back to sleep," Loki says softly and you nod, closing your eyes.

You take a sip of your coffee as you sit on Loki's couch, your eyes follow him as he paces and talks excitedly. You can't help but smile at how confident he looks compared to last night.

"That might actually work," you say when Loki finished explaining his plan.

He chuckles and sits next to you, "Of course it will work. Why do you seem so surprised?"

"If I say it's because your other ideas didn't go so well, are you going to turn me into a frog?" you joke as he drinks his coffee

"You are utterly obsessed with the idea of being turned into a frog," he rolls his eyes but his smile remains.

"No, I'm concerned that it's a very real possibility," you explain. "I've never been friends with anyone who could do that."

"Ah, I see you are assuming we are friends now," he says a bit sarcastically.

"We're not?" you ask him, unsure what you and Loki are to each other after last night.

"Do you want to be friends?" he wonders, setting his mug on the coffee table.

"What are my other options? " you shrug, hoping he will give you some hint as to what answer he is looking for.

Before he can respond, there is a loud knock on his door. He sighs deeply and rubs his temples then looks at you, "That will be Thor." He notices the confused look on your face and smiles, "There are only two people who have ever bothered me when I am in my apartment and one of them is already in here."

You giggle nervously, "That's fair. Guess the plan starts now?"

He smirks and nods, "Are you ready? I promise I won't turn you into a frog."

Steve and Natasha sit at the far end of the table reviewing the agenda for the morning briefing. Tony, Bruce and Clint stand near the window placing bets on how much money you will be fined today for your swearing. The discussions are suddenly silenced when Thor slams open the door to the conference room. Everyone quickly turns to face him in surprise.

"Woah! Calm down point break, no need to break down the door. There are plenty of donuts for everyone," Tony gestures to the box on the table.

"I don't think that's the issue," Bruce says when Thor takes a step to the side to reveal that Loki and you are behind him. You look down at the ground and fidget with your fingers while Loki glares at his brother.

"What's going on?" Steve asks, standing with his hands resting on the table.

"Thor is overreacting to a simple deal I have made with Y/N," Loki says calmly and you nod.

"She made a deal with you?" Tony asks. "What, was the devil busy?"

"That almost hurt Stark," Loki smirks.

"What did you do to her?" Clint asks, obviously very concerned for your wellbeing.

"Y/N came to me last night after the Captain enforced his new policy regarding her swearing," he explains.

"Seriously Y/N, you thought Loki would help you?" Clint asks you.

You nod.

"I did help her," Loki answers for you. "There is no need for this concern you all share. Y/N is fine."

"Why doesn't she tell us she's fine herself?" Natasha crosses her arms over her chest.

Loki looks at you then back at the team as they gather closer around you both, "She cannot."

"Why not?" Natasha uncrosses her arms slowly and looks at you with growing concern.

Thor answers before Loki can, "He took her voice."

"What?!" Clint, Tony and Steve all shout at once.

Loki smiles, "Don't worry, I'm keeping it somewhere safe." He holds out his hand and a small glass vial appears, a light gray cloud swirls around inside of it. The God of Mischief places it on the conference table in front of you as you rub your throat slowly.

"Absolutely not! Give Y/N her voice back, Ursula," Tony orders.

"How dare you. I am not some common sea witch," Loki glares at him, clearly offended.

"You understood that reference?" Steve asks.

"I read," Loki rolls his eyes. "Besides, I cannot do that. We made a deal, Y/N and I made a perfectly reasonable trade."

"What could you possibly trade for your voice?" Clint asks you but you can only shrug in response.

"That is between Y/N and myself," Loki answers for you.

"I can't believe this is happening," Bruce takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose.

Loki sighs, "There is no need to worry. If Y/N asks, I will be more than happy to reverse the deal."

"How is she supposed to ask? You took her damn voice," Natasha points out.

"She can write," Loki says as if the answer was obvious.

You smile at everyone and give them two thumbs up as enthusiastically as you can.

"You must certainly are not fine," Steve insists. "I can't believe you would do this to get around J.A.R.V.I.S."

"This has gone on long enough," Thor says as he takes a few steps forward and picks up the glass vial.

"Be careful with that brother," Loki warns him and takes a step forward. You shake your head and bite your lip nervously. "This is not like the magic of Stark's fairy tale. If you break that, Y/N's voice will not be released to her, it will simply cease to exist."

"You have got to be kidding me," Tony says, rubbing his temples.

"Give it back to me," Loki says sternly, holding his hand out towards Thor.

"Don't mess with that big guy," Bruce says, his eyes on the vial in Thor's hand.

You watch anxiously when Thor pulls away from his younger brother. "Remove the spell from Y/N," the God of Thunder demands.

"To do that I will need the vial," Loki counters and takes another step forward, closing the distance between them. Loki reaches for it but Thor pulls his hand away, holding it just out of reach.

If you weren't so concerned about the safety of the vial, you might be able to appreciate how much they simply look like bickering brothers and not two Gods arguing over your voice.

Tony steps in, "Thor, give it back to the sea witch."

Loki glares at Tony, "I do not have the patience for you today tin man."

He looks back at Thor and without a word, he flicks his wrist, sending his seidr towards his brother. The green cloud surrounds his hand in an attempt to pull the vial free but Thor clenches his hand and pulls violently against Loki's magic.

"Stop!" Natasha yells.

Your eyes go wide and you cover your mouth with both hands as the vial slips free from Thor's grasp. Loki's seidr doesn't react fast enough and the small glass vial falls to the floor at the older Asgardian's feet, shattering into pieces.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[jungwondazed]

18+ only / jungwon jealous mutual masturbation

a/n: i am not a big fan of this piece, didn't revise too much and wrote it all in one sitting

the walk back to the apartment was a bit more awkward than usual. he still kept his hand on your lower back, he still opened the car door for you, and he still guided you down the hallway. but he was quiet, far too quiet.

even the way he sat on the opposite end of the couch made you wary that jungwon wasn't how he was when you both left to go out tonight, something was off.

you cleared your throat while he was lost in thought, staring far too hard at his hand, and he looked up with a slight raise of his brows. his face was tinted pink from the wine and you thought he was cuter than ever. if things were how they normally were, you would've kissed him all over his face.

he was jealous. he had to have been. otherwise it wouldn't have been this way, it's never this way.

on the small sofa of your living room, he had you spread apart with your clothes scattered all over the floor.

"touch yourself for me," he breathed out, sitting fully clothed on the small rocking chair across from you.

it was mortifying, to be completely undressed. and not to mention the vulgar position he had you in.

"please," you weakly whimper out, confused at what you were even pleading for.

"come on, show me" he was red, a few shades deeper than what he looked like when you first noticed the alcoholic flush.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, rubbing himself through his briefs and you squirmed at how intimate this was even if he wasn't touching you at all.

maybe it was the way the waiter was eyeing you, or worse, how you responded. you had a problem with not recognizing people's advances, which resulted in you unintentionally giving your attention away. but you were just being polite, you were always this way. although, if it was jungwon and a waitress in that exact situation, you could see why an exchange like that would have anybody riled up.

he was pumping himself now, a look of lust behind his dark eyes. and you were two fingers deep following the pace of his hand.

"not enough," you whine out, and he chuckles softly seeing your dissatisfaction at your own fingers.

he cups his hand to run over the tip of his penis over and over, grunting at the sensitive sensation. his eyes close gently, as if the pleasure was overwhelming, and you were quite irritated with how good he probably felt.

"put another one in," he demands, to which you shake your head, it'd be far too much if you had three. you couldn't take it. two wasn't enough, three was too much.

"trust me, just do what i say." his mouth was slightly open, barely able to get his own words out. he was gorgeous while masturbating, the fall and rise of his chest, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the way you could note all of the small crevices that formed on his face when aroused. he looked good, he looked really good.

you stick another finger in, wincing at the stretch because you never fingered yourself anymore. you notice him pausing his movements to gaze at you, an expression of fascination. he's beyond turned on, you see it in the way he looks at you.

your fingers pump in and out of , slow at first, and then faster. this does feel good, doesn't it? is this what you wanted jungwon? you wanted to get close, so close you could cum all over your hand and rub it in his face that you're more than capable of this too.

"curl your fingers for me, ___. curl them" he pumps himself from the base to the tip, quick and hard. he's close too. his groans and grunts are weaker and not as composed.

you curl your fingers, hitting that spot that always brings you to your orgasm and you cum as jungwon strokes himself once more, his own semen shooting out of his tip. you fuck yourself through your orgasm as he keeps stroking, heavily breathing through his lips and gripping at the armrest.

long minutes later does he get up out of his seat to sit besides you, leaning in to kiss your jaw and down to your neck. he always kisses you in these places, before moving to your lips. the kisses are hard, like he had a purpose all along.

you pull back to catch your breath, brows furrowed at his glowy face and half-closed eyes. he looked pleasant like he was enjoying himself.

"what was all this for?" you ask him, nearly out of breath post orgasm and mid make out session.

he leans back in to resume the kiss, ignoring your question, pulling you on top of him to guide you down his length. he wanted you now. he wanted you in this way.

[erodasfishtacos]

The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

+

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

++

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

++

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

++

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

++

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

++

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

++

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

++

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

++

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

++

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

++

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

++

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

++

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

++

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

++

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

++

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

++

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

[metamatronic]

Champions Resurrected AU / Prelude 1: Mipha

i was gonna post this on AO3 and I still might if I write more, but here’s a brief written retelling/continuation of the Mipha & Sidon reunion comic (warnings: canon typical violence? just in case)

The crackling noise that shook through Zora’s Domain that morning was mistaken for thunder at first. Zoras chatted amongst themselves, puzzled over lightning in a cloudless sky. Even King Dorephan, who had lived long enough to experience nearly every natural oddity that occurred near the Domain, leaned forward on his throne to peer into the vast blue.

“There, Father! Do you see it?” Sidon, always eager to abandon their discussions on politics, pointed toward the falling beam as it cut through the sky. “A falling star during the day. How rare!”

“I doubt it,” Dorephan rumbled. “I’ve seen many falling stars. I’ve never seen one like that. Something is strange about it.”

“Your Majesty, we are under attack!”

Sidon only winced a little at the sharp voice, before straightening up on instinct. He watched his father shoot his advisor an amused look as he rushed in.

“I doubt that as well, Muzu,” Dorephan chuckled. “If so, our enemy’s aim could certainly use some work!”

“Your Majesty!” Muzu cried, wringing his hands. “Please, consider the possibility at least!”

Sidon tuned out the conversation, walking out to the balcony and watching the dazzling light as it descended. Now that he was really looking, it had a faint blue glow to it that seemed to be dimming as it approached the ground. Its movement was strange, bobbing through the air like it was adjusting its course. A Rito, perhaps?

Sidon certainly hoped not as he watched the light plummet behind the rocks and into the Bank of Wishes. He hadn’t met many, but from what he’d heard, the Rito weren’t particularly keen swimmers. His fins itched as thoughts of warbled squawking and the charging of Lizalfo shock arrows plagued his mind.

“I will go investigate,” Sidon said, loudly enough to cut off whatever tirade Muzu had been in the middle of.

“Sire! Surely you’re joking!” Muzu said. “You cannot be so reckless! Ever since you took on Vah Ruta, you’ve been acting as though you are invincible, insisting you handle things yourself. If you keep acting as such—”

“I am very fast and very capable. I will be back if it is anything too dangerous, I assure you!” Sidon said with a grin. He was already stepping backward towards the edge of the balcony. “You have my word.”

“My Lord!” Muzu cried as Sidon winked, before leaping gracefully off the ledge and into the waters below.

By the time Muzu had made his way to the balcony, the only trace of the prince was a slice of red cutting effortlessly through Ruto Lake.

‌▲ ▲‌ ▲

Mipha groaned, opening her eyes and immediately regretting it as she was buffeted by the fierce wind. As she grasped uselessly at her surroundings, every nerve suddenly sparked to life as she realized she was falling. Fast.

Her right fin was pulled open by a gust and she spun with a yelp, being tossed violently through the air. It reminded her of swimming down a waterfall, the dizzying feeling of the current and gravity pulling you relentlessly toward the sharp rocks below.

“Always keep your eyes forward, my dear Mipha,” her father’s voice echoed, pulling her back to her youth when she’d foolishly closed her eyes and nearly missed the lake below. “The most dangerous thing you can do is let your fear steer you.”

Prying her eyes open, she extended her fins and clumsily straightened herself. She felt a wave of nausea hit as the faded blues of distance gave way to the vibrant greens and purples of the earth below. A long leap off a waterfall, she told herself, that’s all this was.

Mipha bit her lip as she took in the surroundings. Even from this height, she could recognize her home, even if the sight brought her little comfort in her current situation. She was positioned over the Zora River now but could feel the wind knocking her around. Even a few feet off target could spell the end, and Mipha was already more acquainted with death than she ever wished to be.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her arms to her sides and flattened her fins, picking up speed until the world blurred. The wind whistling past her was nearly loud enough to hurt but was soon muddled by the familiar sound of rushing water and bubbling air pockets. She opened her fins quickly to slow the pull downward, relenting only when the pull of gravity faded to the gentle current of the river.

When the bubbles finally cleared, Mipha found herself upsetting close to the rocky bottom of Zora River.

She could still feel her heartbeat everywhere, behind her eyes and at the ends of her fins. She fought the tears pricking her eyes, shaking as the adrenaline slowly filtered from her system.

It was only after she’d allowed herself a moment of reprieve that it clicked.

She had a heartbeat. She could see the small bubbles pushing around her as she moved the water around her. She was here, alive.

“How is this…” Mipha stared at her hands, unmistakably solid, and forgave the tremor in her voice. “What happened?”

A warm light had descended into the depths of Vah Ruta. Mipha had known instantly what it was—could feel the warmth of Hylia even through the coldness of her spirit. She briefly said her goodbyes, before capturing the light in her hands and fading away.

In all honesty, Mipha hadn’t been certain what would come after that. But hurtling toward the ground at high speeds had not been it.

“I should…what should I do?” Mipha waded anxiously back and forth beneath the turbulent current. “Should I return to the Domain? Would that cause some sort of issue? Perhaps I should return to Vah Ruta…”

Despite her fondness for her Divine Beast, Mipha couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her at that. Surely after committing one hundred years to her tomb, the Goddesses would forgive her stalling her return a bit.

“I’m not even sure how much time has passed since Link’s victory over Ganon…” Mipha mumbled quietly. “For all I know, thousands of years have passed. Perhaps I’ve been reincarnated? Though I don’t think one usually reincarnates as an adult. Or with their memories, for that matter.” Even passing fish seemed to eye her warily as she fidgeted in place. She groaned.

“Oh, just make up your mind, Mipha!” she scolded quietly, squishing her face. “Right, then I’ll return to the Domain and ask around. Surely someone will be able to fill in the details.”

With that, Mipha propelled herself upwards into the main current, pivoted around the bend, and smashed headlong into something.

It was large and red, but that was all Mipha could make out past the stars in her eyes. The direct hit to the nose had shocked her system, leaving her nearly blind in the water. Dazed, she pushed upwards until water gave way to cool air. She shook her head, which only served to worsen the ringing in her ears.

Thankful at least that her sight returned, Mipha blinked and almost doubted her newly restored vision. A Zora nearly twice her size was treading water in front of her, rubbing his nose and saying something Mipha couldn’t quite make out.

“…a…logies, I must h… let the cur…nt…rry me too quickly. Are you injured? I can help you back to the Domain if you are. Again, I apologize for…” The large Zora trailed off as he looked down, blinking owlishly at Mipha.

He was familiar in a way that pulled deep at Mipha’s soul. She could see the lines of others—parts of her father, her mother, even some of herself—but it was the way his eyes lit up with an almost childlike hope that solidified what her heart already knew.

“Sidon?” She asked.

Sidon’s face split into a blinding grin.

“Sister!” He swam forward, before jolting to a stop. His eyes snapped behind her, and it was as they widened in horror that Mipha heard the charging of a shock arrow being knocked.

Spinning, Mipha reached for her trident and was met with empty air. Frantic, she launched a weak spray of water at the Lizalfo before being yanked away. She heard the arrow loose, then the sickening thunk as it embedded into skin.

She looked up at Sidon, who was hunched over her protectively. He winced, undoubtedly from the arrow lodged in his shoulder, and turned to the Lizalfo with gritted teeth.

“No!” Mipha cried. She pulled Sidon underwater, doing her best to ignore the pained yelp as she tugged on his injured arm to urge him lower.

“If I hadn’t struck the arrow with water and activated the shock before it hit you, your injury would be much more severe. We must dive deep enough that the shock radius won’t hit us if he fires again.”

“It’s just one Lizalfo, Sister!” Sidon said, but she could hear him hiss a little as he swam. “I promise, I’ve handled much worse!”

“There is never just one Lizalfo, Sidon,” She chided. “This should be deep enough. Let me heal you.”

She swam behind him, frowning at the scars that littered his body. “I need to remove the arrow before I can begin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sidon says, his smile strained slightly with pain. “It’s not the first time that this has happened.”

“That is what concerns me,” Mipha said quietly. She yanked the arrow out quickly before pressing her hands to the wound, pooling her energy into her palms. “I have no doubt you have defended our domain bravely, Sidon. I’m so incredibly proud of you. I only wish I could have been there to heal you and protect you from harm.”

“Sister…” Sidon said quietly. He moved to turn, but Mipha tutted at him and he stayed still, tilting his head down to stare at the riverbed below.

“It has undoubtedly been difficult since your…since you failed to return from Vah Ruta,” Sidon said. “But your unending kindness and devotion have been a beacon of hope for our whole kingdom. None more than me. You may not have known it, but there was never a moment you weren’t with me.”

He tilted his head to the side, peering over his shoulder as Mipha worked. “If I may ask, Sister, how is it that you’ve managed to return? Not that I’m ungrateful, I assure you! But…”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure myself,” Mipha said, quietly lifting her hands as the last threads of her healing magic settled into Sidon. “One moment I was aboard Vah Ruta, a spirit, finally content to move on knowing the war was won and our people were safe. Then, the next moment, I’m hurtling toward the ground, several thousand feet in the air. I’m at a loss for explanations.”

Sidon spun around quickly, eyes sparkling. “That glowing comet in the sky, that was you? That is amazing! Extraordinary!” He grabbed her hands, smiling wide. “This must be a gift from the Goddess! Payment for your hard work and sacrifice, no doubt! No one would be more deserving than you!”

At that, Mipha paused. “Do you think…The other Champions, would they have also…?”

“Perhaps so,” Sidon said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’ve heard anything, but admittedly I don’t keep very informed on foreign affairs. Perhaps someone else in the Domain has heard something? Or…!”

Sidon snapped to attention, smile glowing impossibly brighter. “I’ll send for Link! Surely he’ll know, as well-traveled and sociable as he is, and I have no doubt he will be thrilled to see you again! Perhaps we could even call the engagement back on!”

Mipha sputtered bubbles at Sidon’a grin. “S-Sidon! There is—was never any engagement! Link and I are friends, th-that’s all!”

Sidon frowned, looking thoughtful. “But I was positive the Zora armor was for him. It looked like a perfect fit!”

“Oh, you found that then?” Mipha said, voice pitching up an octave. “That was, erm, well it was a rash decision really. I thought better of it, hence why he never found out about it! So really, there’s no need to tell him it was even made!”

“Ah, so you didn’t end up confessing anything,” Sidon said, nodding. “Your diary entry was unclear, so I wasn’t sure whether the two of you had made proper arrangements or not. Poor Link remembers very little from that time, unfortunately, and even showing him the passage didn’t seem to help.”

“You…You read my diary?” Mipha mumbled in disbelief. She then swayed a little, realization hitting her. “Link read my diary?!”

“Yes?”

“Did…Did anyone else?”

“Father, Muzu, and a very talented Rito bard named Kass.”

Mipha made a noise like a tea kettle and Sidon looked immediately abashed, glancing away. “Er, I do hope that was alright? Father said you likely wouldn’t have minded, and I wanted so desperately to preserve your legacy.”

“Well, then I have a few words for Father,” Mipha huffed. “Reading a girl’s diary, really! How uncouth.”

She swam past him before turning, holding out a hand for Sidon. It felt a little silly now, offering to guide a Zora so much larger than herself. He must be about her age now and had clearly grown into a capable warrior. But in those eyes, Mipha could only see her young brother, still anxious to speak to others or swim too far from her side.

If Sidon took offense to the gesture, he showed no sign of it as he took her hand tightly. But then he let go, swam beside her, withdrew his trident—Mipha almost thought it was her own, but reconsidered when she noticed how large it was—and set it horizontally behind his back. He tilted his head toward it, but Mipha simply stared in confusion.

“I imagine falling from the sky was a harrowing experience, and I cannot begin to think of how taxing being revived from the dead must be,” Sidon clears his throat, eyes drifting to the side. “Allow me to carry you back. It will be easier to dodge enemies if we travel together, and I assure you I am capable. I am one of the fastest swimmers in the Domain, after all!”

Mipha stared at him a moment more before his action clicked into place. She’d done the same things for him when he was young—using her own trident as a handgrip for a much smaller Sidon as they traversed the waterfalls. Muzu had worried endlessly about it, convinced that Sidon would slip or that his grip would falter and he would go coasting off the side of a cliff. But she’d insisted that she trusted Sidon’s strength and courage, and her father had agreed to allow her to continue.

Now, Sidon swam nervously in front of her, offering his trident to her in the same gesture. She felt her heart swell, seeing that even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten their time together. She smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again as she dove behind Sidon. He turned to look, smile faltering for a moment before Mipha set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Forgive me, Sidon. I was overcome with emotions. I trust you, and thank you for your kindness.” She tightened her hands around the trident, and the feeling of cool Zora steel beneath her hands for the first time in a century sent a chill through her. “I’m ready when you a—re!”

Mipha bit down a yelp as Sidon shot through the water at near-blinding speeds. It took her a moment to adjust, and even the familiar Zora River left her speechless as it whipped by. She now had no doubt her brother was the strongest swimmer she’d ever met—it was as if the water itself was pushing him forward like a jet stream. It was exhilarating, almost like learning to swim all over again, and Mipha couldn’t contain the joyous laughter that pulled its way out of her.

She was here, really here, feeling the water on her scales and the cool metal under her fingers. She could see the fish and plants move as they swam by, could see the trail of bubbles in their wake. When they broke the surface of the water, cutting effortlessly up the falls of the Domain, she gasped, taking in the view.

She was with her beloved brother, in her beloved home, and she was alive.

[valwrote]

stressed!alhaitham who is in a stinky mood ever since nahida gave him the job of acting grand sage. ft. fem!reader aka the bootiful bean reading this.

mentions of alhaitham's granny (rip)

I chose my next victim of choice to be alhaitham regarding my impulsive ideas since I can't write a full blow fic rn. I hope there are still people who like this guy.

right??

"Uh oh, it is going to rain." one of the vendors muttered.

"Certaintly is. We better pack up. What idiot would want to stay in the cold rain?" Another muttered as everyone started to hurry and pack up.

Soon the pitter patter drowned out the rest of the noises.

The sky was cloudy with a hue of blueish gray bringing a solemn atmosphere with it. The gloomyness engulfed the city of Sumeru. Alhaitham sat alone on a bench, hunched up. Guess he was the idiot to sit in the rain.

He could hear people whispering, muttering to themselves at the sight of him as they walked by, holding their umbrellas. Some running towards shelter. Alhaitham paid no mind to them, he was busy with his problems.

He never imagined that he would go from having a simple job of the Scribe of the Akademiya who could relax and reject applications left and right to becoming the Acting Grand Sage.

On paper the title does seem like an important position but nobody told the reality of the job and the tsunami of paperwork that came with it. Being hunched up in an office chair and burying your face in a mountain of petty queries and complaints was enough to drive a person crazy.

"Acting Grand Sage...what a joke." He bitterly chuckled as the rain dampened his clothes more and more. All he wanted was to save his 9 to 5 job and the people of his country. He didn't expect to be appointed as the administrator of an entire nation.

He recalled Nahida trying to persuade him into agreeing to the post.

"No pressure or anything!" Nahida told the taller male. "I don't wish to force you. I just thought that you are so smart, capable and reliab-"

"Okay."

"Huh?" Nahida stared at him blankly. She thought that it would take a lot more buttering to get Alhaitham to agree. She didn't think it would be this easy.

"If it is what the Archon wants, I'll do it." He bowed out of respect. Nahida marveled at his gesture before smiling.

"Thank you."

Yet this job made him almost, almost, pity Azar.

Well in the heat of the moment, he said yes. Alhaitham was a rational thinker, yet this was probably the one rational decision he was regretting at the moment, amidst the cold rain. Some trivial matter always came breaking down his door.

Should he just run away? No, he couldn't bear to run away from his home. Perhaps a vacation? No, nobody was competent in his eyes to take his place. Moreover if he leaves, who will collect Kaveh's due rent? Even worse if Kaveh burns down his house in his absence! Maybe a change of pace would be nice. A small window of escape from his life of humbug.

Such worries clouded his thoughts which he snapped out of after someone touched his shoulder. "I am sorry, I don't mean to pry but are you okay? Why are you sitting in this rain?" You asked him.

"No reason." He replied curtly.

"Oh okay." You didn't feel like pushing him forward to tell you more. Most people ignored him and walked past him but for some reason you chose to stay, much to his dismay. You stood their for a brief minute before turning around to walk away only to get cut off by a sound.

Grumble

That caught your attention as you turned around to see Alhaitham averted his gaze with the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment. He wasn't a man with much words but his stomach certainly didn't stay quiet.

"Are you hungry?" "...yes."

Alhaitham wasn't the one to play pretend. He simply succumbed to his hunger. You walked back towards him and take a seat beside him. He didn't seem to object your actions and stared at you as your fingers unwrapped a packet containing pita pockets.

"Let's share! Nothing better than some pipin' hot food to lighten one's mood!" You smiled and offered him some. He could feel the warm gush of air from the steaming food hitting him the face.

They smelled nice. How long has it been since he sat down and ate a hot meal? When was the last time he cooked for himself. As a child, his grandma would always take care of him, listen to his problems and make sure he would eat his fill. His grandma's cooking was a distant memory for him. He couldn't help but feel a bit grateful.

Yet he still managed to burn his tongue. "Slow down! You don't want to singe your tongue now, do you?" You warned him as he hissed at the burning sensation. However that didn't stop him from continuing to eat. He was hungry, alright.

You both silently sat under the comfort of one umbrella. "So, bad day?" You started. "Yes." "Hm, everyone has one of those. It is okay."

He remained quiet, while chewing. He didn't talk much for someone who was a linguistic scholar. How ironical. For Alhaitham, this food tasted warm, it tasted like home. It was made with love, care and time, unlike those stale delicacies you get around cafeterias.

"Thank you. That was- nice." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"He really devoured 3/4th of it." You gaped at the box. "Have you not eaten at all?" You raised the question.

"Well, I see no reason to not share with you just a little bit..." he murmured to himself.

"No, with the amount of work- I haven't been focusing much on food." Alhaitham settled on that answer. Neither giving too much away nor upsetting the stranger infront of him.

"Well then how about I cook for you? I work at the Pushpa Cafe. You can drop by anytime for a meal." You suggested as he raised his brows.

"And make my wallet empty in less than a week? I'll pass." He sarcastically remarked. Definitely a tough nut to crack.

"No! I don't care about money. I care about feeding people. What makes a chef is passion to cook and serve others, not a capitalist mindset." You huffed in annoyance. He seemed skeptical at your statement earning a sigh from you.

"Taking help isn't bad. You gotta lean onto people sometimes! It's completely okay and normal, y'know?" You continued, trying to get him to believe you and how you were being genuine.

That sent him into deep thought. After a few minutes he spoke up, "very well. I'll take up your offer. Better than eating my roommates "food" which might poison me." He concluded as you chuckled at how nonchalant he was.

"Alright! I'll see you later or whenever you choose to drop by!" You chime and hand him the rest of the pita pockets. "Eat well. Oh! And have this" you held out the umbrella for him to take.

"But what about you?" He asked with slight worry.

"Oh my house is just down the road, if I run fast enough, I'll be fine!" You reassured him and ran away, covering yourself with your arms.

He watched you run away, the warmth of the pita pocket on his palms. Who knew a stranger with an umbrella could make the remaining part of his day just a bit better? Alhaitham couldn't help but smile a little.

People enter someone's life for one reason or the other. Alhaitham wanted to run away. No, he just wanted a vacation. Perhaps he just needed a change of pace.

This was his change of pace.

a/n : oh my god- this is probably worse than the first draft I wrote because I accidentally deleted it- ughh. But it is okay 😤

alhaitham just needs a break lmao

©definitelysel

[bunnyluvx]

the arcana characters and their favorite ways to spend time with you! ♡

featuring: the romanceable cast of the arcana minus lucio x gn!reader.

summary: the cast and their favorite ways to spend time with you!! <3

warnings: brief death mention in portia's part. nothing else! <3

a/n: WOWIEEE HAIII EVERYONE!! i just wanted to say thank you again to everyone who loved on my last post. it was really scary for me to make that, but i did it and all of the interaction means the complete world!!!! i know that this is a very different fandom than the last post so i don't know how many people will see this but to any readers, i hope that you enjoy this!!! i worked super hard and got a bit tired towards the end so i hope you can forgive me if it isn't as detailed eyfvibu i wanted to do more but mannnn i am so tired. i didn't write lucio, as i will not be writing any lucio content on my page at all. mentions of him for story reasons and maybe if i ever write a fanfic, he'll probably show up but other than that, i will not be making any content of him at all. i am a proud lucio hater so if you want lucio content please go somewhere else. i just finished asra's route today, i got the upright ending and AAAAAAAAAA?????? I LOVE THEM SMMM SYFVIUBIOE!!!! asra is literally such a cutie patootie and i am so in love with him. i cannot deal with it. i have done muriel and julian's routes too, both with the result of the upright ending, and i plan to do nadia's next!!!! very excited and nervous to see what happens. nadia and portia may be a bit ooc, so apologies for that. i have yet to do their routes so i have yet to see their characters in action. very mildly proofread, so please forgive any errors. character banners were edited together by me! any and all requests/ideas for my next post are appreciated! i don't think i have anything else to mention so enjoy!!!!!!

divider credit: @isisjupiter

date started: 7:46PM, april 11th, 2024. date finished: 2:07AM, april 22nd, 2024.

wc: 3.9k

asra ♡ traveling.

i really struggled to find something for asra that suited, because they would honestly enjoy doing anything with you. it doesn't matter where you are or what time of day it is, as long as he has you by his side, then he's happy. and that is super evident in their route. and having just finished asra's route, i have been thinking; we all know that asra does a lot of traveling. and we all know that during those times, asra misses you terribly. they don't like being away from you for a long time, and as we go through asra's route, having all of these adventures and seeing so many new and cool places, we can see just how happy asra is to have you at their side. the joy shines through the screen, and i can feel just how happy he is to have you with him wherever you are. ergo, their favorite thing to do with you is to travel.

when the two of you started to travel together, asra was a bit nervous. he didn't know what to expect when you agreed to travel together without a destination in mind, and he was worried that somehow, some way, something would happen to you. what if you got kidnapped? what if you got hurt? what if you got sick? all sorts of thoughts were running through asra's head, but the more that they watched you grow and allowed you to take chances, the more that they realized that you would be okay. yes, any of those things could happen, but he is right there if you need him. they know that they will always be by your side to help you through any challenge, and care for you however you need it.

however, as the travels go on, he is reminded everyday that you are a strong, capable individual. they knew that before, of course, but seeing you solve all of the riddles and puzzles put in front of you, helping so many people and growing so much made it hit them like a truck. he was always too afraid to allow you to take chances before, in fear that you would get hurt. but they learned that if you didn't take chances, that you wouldn't grow. and the last thing that he wants is to stop you from being the best version of you that you can be.

so, they let you off of the leash. and just like a bird taking flight, you soared and took everything that came at you by storm. he watched you as you became braver, smarter, kinder and stronger. they always expected for you to be great, and they always had faith in you. he just needed to learn that in order to achieve that greatness, that he needed to let you do some things on your own. they needed to let you make your own mistakes and win your own battles, so that you could learn. and it was one of the best decisions that he's ever made. watching you become more independent and confident within yourself is one of the best feelings that they could ever be blessed to have. he feels so grateful that he is the person that you choose every single day, and no matter what, he will always choose you.

julian ♡ dancing.

at heart, julian is a romantic. almost every cliche romantic thing that you can think of, you have done with julian. picnics. karaoke, aquariums, painting classes, shopping, craft nights, not to mention all of the crazy adventures that you guys would get into together. every day, he wants to remind you why you fell for him, and in his opinion, keeping things lively is the best way to do that! above all, though, julian's favorite thing to do with you is to dance. he knew that you were a prodigy at dancing after the masquerade, but one night changes everything.

the two of you had actually taken dancing classes before this. you were actually the one who suggested it, and after teasingly accusing you of thinking that the two of you are horrible dancers, he agreed. he honestly didn't think that he could be more in love with you after that. you two went to the class, and julian could hardly ever tear his eyes off of you. the way that you moved was so naturally graceful, as if you had been a dancer your whole life. he most definitely showered you in attention and love after the class was over, and he knew that he had to arrange for the two of you to dance together more often.

oh but that night was not the night that he realized that this was his favorite thing to do with you, no no no no no. the night that he realized that dancing was his favorite activity to do with you was a night like many others; dinner at portia's. it was you, julian, portia and nadia, and you all decided to eat outside so that you could watch the stars. portia went into the cottage to check on the food, with nadia following close behind her, and julian figured that it was the perfect time to steal a sweet moment with you. so, he stood from his seat and knelt to one knee before you. with one hand on his chest and the other extended to you, he asked, "will you have this dance with me, my dear?"

you giggled and told him that there wasn't any music playing. what could you possibly dance to? oh how sweet you are. a chuckle symphonized from his chest, and he responded with, "oh my dear, we do have music." a gloved hand took yours and placed it over his heart, "right here." oh my gods, this absolute cheeseball. you playfully shoved his chest, moving backwards under the force but not falling onto his butt. he swiftly leans forward and takes the hand that shoved him, pulling you to your feet as he stood. one pair of hands intertwined while the others lay on your waist on his shoulder. you two started to sway together, as if you were in the masquerade. yes, you did technically dance at the masquerade, but julian wanted a more intimate experience. you didn't get to have a romantic ballroom dance thanks to the one we do not speak, and julian finds that absolutely outrageous!

your bodies glide beautifully amongst the grass and bushes, you take turns spinning each other around and laughing throughout. fireflies spring from the greenery wherever you set your feet, giving your figures a tender glow that julian found absolutely enchanting on you. after spinning through almost all of portia's front lawn, you find yourselves right back at group sitting spot. his arms have encircled your waist, keeping you close to him as your arms encircle his neck carefully. there are no long strides in this dance, no dramatic flair; just you and him rocking back and forth. his eyes stare into yours and his lips are curved into an adoring smile, as if by looking into your eyes, he could pour all of his love from him to you just through eye contact.

you mutter his name, he mutters yours, you lean in, and..portia pipes up. both her and nadia hold two bowls of soup, hot and ready. portia is mischievously smirking at the two of you while nadia admires your connection. julian tries to usher them away so that he can have more alone time with you, but you're quick to shut him down. begrudgingly, julian did, but all he could think about for the rest of the night was how beautiful you were dancing with him. your laughter singing into the air, the smile on your face, your gaze carving through the very core of his being. somehow, he was able to stay focused on the conversations that occurred that evening, but everyone, including you, could tell that he was going to be hung up on tonight for the next several weeks. when you got home, he was sure to steal a kiss from you later, and another dance.

nadia ♡ fashion shows.

ah, our beloved countess. at first, i planned on giving her shopping, seeing as her love language is gift giving, she would love to spoil the crap out of you with anything that you even glanced out. however, i wasn't happy with that idea. my boyfriend was actually the one who came up with the idea of fashion shows (hi vinny honey, i love you <3). he is such a freaking genius for this one bc OH MY GOSH YES. nadia has such beautiful taste in clothing, so she would absolutely love to host little fashion shows with you. she does like to share her clothes with her friends, but with you, it's special.

the original thought was you trying on nadia's clothes, and nadia trying on your clothes. nadia would feel like she is falling in love with you all over again if you tried on her clothes. all of the fabric would embrace you in such a perfect way, accentuating all of the things that she loves the most about you. gosh she would just be so head over heels,, she would clap every time you would walk out to show her what you chose, or what she selected for you because she just wanted to see you in it so bad. this woman is literally your number one supporter, she thinks that you are absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in everything that you choose to try on and cannot get enough of you in her clothes. she will shower you in compliments and praise of just how celestial you look, and it makes you super duper flustered because she just flatters you so much.

she also gets really shy when she tries on your clothes. all of her life, she has had the most expensive, well-made, stunning clothes that anyone could ever dream of. so, trying on clothes that do not fit under those categories is new to her. while she isn't used to not wearing the most lavish clothes to be found, she likes your sense of style and is always excited when you ask her to try on an ensemble of yours. what she worries about is what you think. she frets that you think it won't look good on her, if that isn't the farthest thing from the truth. when she walks out to you, you are in absolute awe of how beautiful she is. you already think that she can't get any prettier when she wears other outfits, but now this???? her in your clothes???? oh lord almighty you must be SAVED bc this woman has swept you off of your feet. she asks you what you think, and all you can do is walk up to her and smooch the ever-loving life out of her. you just love each other so much!!!!!

BUT WAIT, I'M NOT DONE. I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS.

when your group of friends have sleepovers at the palace, or when you all go out shopping together, it is unavoidable that you all will be having a fashion show where you all show off the clothes that you bought. nadia loves these so much because she gets to watch her friends all enjoy themselves and feel confident in their clothes, especially if she was the one who bought them. but with you, they just feel so different. to her, it is an intimate experience of being able to share your joy with one another. something that you value in your relationship with nadia is self-esteem, both yours and hers. not only do you both want to make each other feel good. but you also want to feel good within yourself. and nadia thinks that fashion shows are an important part of that. clothes are part of how one may express themselves and their identity, and that is something that nadia treasures. so, if showing off the clothes that you got is going to make you feel good about yourself, then she wants to be there to watch you. there is nothing more important to her than your happiness, and if going through outfit by outfit is what will make you happy, then so be it.

admittedly, she..also really likes to show you the new clothes she gets. when you first started dating, she was a bit nervous about it. she knew that you knew of her riches and lifestyle; it was lavish, and she only got the best of the best. she's the countess for crying out loud, so of course you knew that she was going to have everything that she wanted at her feet, even if it meant something that took literal years to find. but there was part of her that worried that you would see her money and think differently of her. she feared that you would judge her person based on her money, instead of the woman you fell in love with. when she told you this, you automatically reassured her that you wouldn't think differently of her at all. you would love her regardless of the amount of money she has, you told her. and this put her heart at ease, so she progressively became more comfortable showing off her wardrobe when you hosted your shows to each other. now, she doesn't hesitate to declare a fashion show after a shopping spree so that she can show you the lovely things that she got for herself. and every single time that you have one, you cannot believe that that is your girlfriend. you are just the luckiest person in the whole world to have someone like her, and she feels infinitely more lucky to have you.

portia ♡ watching the sunset.

this kind of feels like a given to me. portia is always talking about how she wants to sail the world and explore, both in the actual routes and in heart hunter. so sitting on the docks with you, watching the sun disappear behind the sea and talking about your dreams??? oh heck yes, count her in. she is really tired when she isn't working, so usually she spends her time trying to rest up and take care of things around her cottage. however, she wants to spend all of the time that she can with you. so, the two of you go on all sorts of lovely dates! shopping in the marketplace, teaching her about new herbs in the shop, seeing the new shows in the theater and heckling julian, all sorts of stuff!!!!! but portia's all time favorite part of your days together is when you go to the docks, take off your shoes, sit on the edge and talk while watching the sunset together.

portia has so many dreams, and so many things that she wants to do in her life. and she loves to tell you about all of them. she spends hours just ranting to you about all of the things that she wants to do, the places that she wants to see, the types of adventures that she wants to go on, and of course they all include you being there with her. oh gods you love listening to her,, every single word that she speaks are words that you carve into the stones of your memories. listening to her talk about her dreams is like watching the sun shine. greenery smiles under the glorious warmth and embraces her glimmer gratefully, her passion burns brightly and she is the most beautiful being in any realm to ever exist. she has no time to wonder if she's talking too much because she is far too focused on being with you, and loving every single moment of it. you truly hope that you are able to go on all of the adventures that she wants, so that you can experience every ounce of the world with her, until it all falls apart.

of course, she loves to listen to you. the time that you two spend at the docks is time to talk about anything that comes to mind, and she cannot help but adore you as you pour your heart out to her. when you speak of all of the things that you want to do before your time in this realm comes to a close, she watches and listens very intently. your voice to her is like a river, running smoothly through the canals of her mind and soothing the battering howl of her heart. her eyes twinkle with adoration as her elbow rests on her knee, her face leaning against her hand as she stares at you. everything that you tell her only makes her more excited for your future, because in your future, you include her. and that is all that she could ever truly want. you both truly love to listen to each other talk, not even just about your dreams, but about anything. even if it's something as small as dinner options or something that you saw at the market that you liked, you both love to hear anything and everything from each other. can you tell that the two of you are head over heels in love??

the first time that you sat at the docks together was a magical moment that portia will never forget. you two had just spent an amazing day together, and you wanted to rest by somewhere pretty before heading back home. so, portia suggested the docks to watch the sunset. you agreed, then took your shoes off and sat down. you conversed for hours, laughing and teasing each other. it is so obvious that you both are the other's favorite person to be around to everyone around you, you are both so comfortable with each other in the purest, most loving way. portia had taken her hair down, long curly locks of red flowing carefully down her back. as the sun caressed the ocean for a farewell kiss, the light made her look like she was a celestial being. freckled, pale skin bathes in orange, your own skin making you look just as radiant as she. you locked eyes with her, and all you could think about is just how much you love her. and her you, for she thought in that moment, that you were the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. she thinks that all of the time, but everything about that time was too perfect. your hands cupped her cheek, and her hands held your arms as you exchanged a beautifully passionate kiss. all of her love dumped into it as did yours, and it is something that portia will always remember. you two go to the docks a lot more to watch the sunset, and exchange plenty more kisses worth treasuring for the rest of your lives.

muriel ♡ nature walks.

OHHHHHH MURIEL!!! MY SHMOOPY POOPY DOOPY BEAR!! i love this man with all of my heart,, no one understands my love for him syufigubine. i didn't even have to think about this one, because i KNEW for a fact this our sweet boy would absolutely LOVE to go on nature walks with you. he isn't much of a people-person, so he doesn't really like going anywhere that crowds gather. which, in vesuvia, is a pretty hard thing to do, considering the fact that people are almost always out, doing something. so muriel doesn't like going anywhere where people are. the time that he spends with you is meant for you and you alone, not to be spent around a crap ton of strangers that push and shove and cram him into tight spaces. so anytime alone with you is time that he greatly cherishes. you had been wanting to find an activity that both you and muriel love doing that wouldn't make muriel anxious or uncomfortable, so you came up with the idea of nature walks.

when you brought it up to muriel, he accepted it right away. he would get to be around nature and spend time with you? that's all he ever really needs, honestly. he has been through the forest time and time again, he knows every crevice of it like the lines on his palms, yet when you went on your first nature walk together, everything about the forest seemed to change. the colors were brighter, the plants smelt richer, heck even the animals were out and about more when you two went out together. he didn't understand why, but it felt so much better being in the forest with you. you walked along and let the path take you wherever fate demanded. the sun peered through the leaves of the trees to allow life to breathe underneath it, the warmth of the day wrapping around you both like a blanket. he's gotten used to this forest after living in it for so many years, but with you, it felt like the most fascinating place to be.

he was a little worried because he figured that you would want to go out. not just to the forest, but to somewhere like the marketplace, the town square or even the rowdy raven. when he expressed his concerns, you reassured him that you didn't need to go out and do something. all you need is to be with him, and if this is the way that he is most comfortable spending time together, then so be it. you could walk all day, all night, for the rest of your lives in this forest together, as long as it meant that he was comfortable and happy. he smiled and thanked you for your reassurance, giving you a little kiss on the cheek before taking your hand and continuing your journey.

from that point forward, nature walks became a very regular part of your routine with muriel. it always starts with "wanna go on a walk?", and from that point forward, who knows what could happen. you two have found a lot of new things in that forest together. you've found lots of pretty flowers, greenery, rocks and animals that you didn't see before, new spots to relax in and even found little burrows and nests a couple of times!!! it's like a little adventure that isn't too far away from home, and muriel is more than happy to go on a walk at any time. it's almost always something new when the two of you go out together, and he thinks that that's what makes you so lovely. on most days, on his own, he wouldn't think twice about any of the things that you do. so, when you stop him to look at a pattern on a rock, or to admire a dandelion that you call a flower even though it's a weed, he takes his time to admire it with you, and he can't stop that sweet smile from curling onto his lips. seeing you in his favorite place is the most wonderful experience that he could ever ask for. he didn't believe that he was deserving of wonderful experiences before, but now that he has you, he wants to think differently.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is so very appreciated! <3

[markrosewater]

There’s an old article I’m hoping to read. Do you know if there’s any way to access ‘Metadwarfosis’ by Matt Cavota?

Metadwarfosis

Posted in Feature on November 23, 2005

By Matt Cavotta

Matt has worn many wizard hats in the 18 years he has worked on Magic—art-mage, logomancer, lightning bard, and (of course) Planeswalker.

### The Metadwarfosis

Ale-sodden Sing-alongs. There should be no explanation necessary here. One thing that is not cool is the cheesy stereotypical drunken dwarf crooning in a crude Irish-esque accent. If we “axe” this, we are swiftly on the road to cooler dwarves.

All Axes, All the Time. What's the deal with dwarves and axes? Why would a race that lives under rock ever develop an affinity for a tree-cutting weapon? Why would a weapon that must be swung wide to be effective be favored by a race that dwells in the tight confines of hewn tunnels? Why, scrapping all actual logic, would a race of any kind always reach for the same sort of weapon no matter what foe they engage? It's called shortsighted Gimli-filching. Sure, he likes his axe, but do ALL dwarves have to copy him. Rumpor Bristlebeard uses a short spear (gasp!), because he can easily skewer foes invading his home tunnel. Our dwarves are cooler already.

These Dwarves are Made for Diggin'. Why would a race that burrows underground have little natural tools for doing so. Other than the fact that they're short, dwarves have no adaptations to their own environment. OK, they can see in the dark too, but their squinty little eyes don't look anything like the eyes of an underground dweller. Our new dwarves will have larger, more light-absorbing eyeballs. Also, why don't dwarves have any natural digging capability? They're basically just short, fat humans. Let's give them slightly longer arms for reaching, and big strong hands with thick sharp fingernails for digging (in case a pick or shovel is not handy.)

Up the Obsession! Let's amp up the red in these folks. Bump up their love of precious metals to all-out obsession. They could be like little twisted underdweller crows, each out to one-up the other with a bigger pile o' loot.

To Beard or Not to Beard. That is the question. I say “not to beard.” A race that defines itself and bases its pride upon its facial hair seems really trite and thin. “Don't mess with the beard!” “Are you insulting my beard?!” “All great heroes have beards!” “Beards, beards, beards!” That sounds really lame to me. It's especially lame because other races have beards too. Let's make it so our dwarves are proud of their reckless abandon in battle and of the number of foes they have pinned to the end of their [insert sword, spear, dagger, or any other weapon that is not an axe.] Oh, and of their pile o' loot too!

Cry Anarchy! Our dwarves will also be more essentially red. They will not help each other out all the time and “stick together through thick and thin.” Leave that stuff for sappy humans. Our guys are bloodthirsty little warmongers. They are a twisted by their fiery obsession, each out to spill more blood than the next guy. Now we're seeing red!

These Dwarves are Made for Diggin' v.2. I am also confused about why dwarves are so thick and heavy. It's probably just to make them the obvious opposite of thin and graceful elves. Rubbish. They live in tunnels, they should be adapted to that life. Instead of being so broad, our dwarves will be a little more wiry. Strong and hearty, but wiry. This makes it easier for them to navigate the budding mine shafts and tunnels that they burrow out. In addition to actually being short, they naturally walk with a bit of a hunch- nobody likes to hit his head all the time. These dwarves are already more believable. This is

By Clangeddin, we've created a goblin! Could this be why all the small red ground creatures of recent memory are goblins? I doubt it, but it is good for a little chuckle and a brief moment of contemplation on how dwarves and goblins represent what is red about red weenie creatures.

If I had my way, we probably would see dwarves in Magic, but they'd mostly be white, and there would be time and attention paid to reframing them as a race of sometimes bald-faced folk who sometimes might not live underground and often use weapons other than axes and who speak their own nothing-like-irish language. They would be a proud people, spiritual and devoted, wise and ancient. My dwarves would have cool cultural characteristics other than their stature, hairyness, and level of inebriation.

[The survey originally included in this article has been removed.]

Until that happens I, for one, am not all that sad that old-school dwarves have been off the scene for a while. I'd rather have them in the deep of their mines, combing their beards and sharpening their axes- waiting, waiting to see the light and emerge as something less slave to the ways of old folklore and new Hollywood mythology. I will happily wait for a true Magic dwarf.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Ooooh here we go again

With that dumb parrot story

I did a art and made a banner

I'm too tired to do more words, so have a chapter

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 6 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. You have managed to gain the trust of the swordsman in a shorter period of time than you expected, but at what cost...?

Previous Chapter, First Chapter

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No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 4,408

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil, @schanwow, @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 holySHIT guys I didn't realize there were so many of you I'm not used to this thank you so much??

The longer that no word came of your status, the more Bogard found himself growing increasingly concerned for your well-being. Little as he enjoyed it the fact, he had grown somewhat fond of your during your brief stint of training at Marineford, having been the one forced to oversee the vast majority of it.

“You know a group of parrots is referred to as a pandemonium?”

You had certainly made an impression on Garp, if nothing else. Bogard rolled his eyes toward the vice admiral, who took no notice of his wry expression—he was too busy flipping through a book you had left behind on exotic birds, leaned back behind his desk with a cigar clutched between his thumb and index finger.

“I can hardly begin to imagine why,” said Bogard dryly, leaning his shoulder into the wall next to the desk and crossing his arms. “Considering a change in career, vice admiral?”

Garp gave a snort of laughter, taking a couple puffs from the cigar. “Gotta retire eventually, don’t I?”

Bogard let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. For the last week he had been stuck with the man in a small office with no purpose except to process new reports on Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk. World’s Strongest Swordsman. Marine Slayer. The elusive pirate’s epithets were growing nearly as innumerable as reports on his activity weren’t, and it grew more tiresome with every passing day. It almost felt as if they were being punished for suggesting this absurd operation in the first place.

“Huh. Lifespan of over a hundred years in captivity. Maybe not the best retirement option, then…”

“Are you capable of taking anything seriously?” said Bogard wearily as Garp shut the book and dropped it heavily on his desk. Garp shrugged a shoulder, clamping the cigar between his teeth and reclining further back in his chair.

“Just enjoying the downtime while we still have it,” he said, tucking his hands behind his neck and propping his boots up on the desk. “Reports should start coming in any day now.”

“So you’ve been saying for the past seven days,” said Bogard, shoving away from the wall. Garp just shrugged a shoulder again, watching Bogard pace across the office in front of the desk. “Not the least bit worried that we’ve sent somewhat promising cadet off to die for no reason.”

“Nope.” Bogard stopped at the corner of the desk, looking back at him and raising an eyebrow. Garp shifted in his chair, settling back more comfortably, his untroubled sigh sending another stab of irritation straight through Bogard’s skull. “She’ll be fine.”

Same as always—Garp rarely took anything seriously, and his faith in the abilities of anyone he took on as a protege remained ever unshakable. He had spent the past week with an air as if he were practically on vacation, and right now was no different. Bogard finally took a seat in the chair across from his, falling into it heavily and strumming his fingers on the armrest, watching in increasing frustration as Garp began snoring. He rolled his eyes and picked up the discarded book from the desk, flipping through it idly.

The vice admiral’s snoring grew steadily louder in the confines of the tiny office, and as Bogard was considering chucking the book directly at his head, the unthinkable happened.

The den den mushi that had been sitting silently on the desk for the past week began to tone dully.

Garp cracked an eye open in an instant, and both men simply stared at it for a long moment—then Garp gave an amused snort, stretching and rubbing at his eyes.

“You do the honors,” he said, nodding at it. “Since you’re so concerned about the kid.”

Bogard shot a glare in his direction, but didn’t waste any more time in picking up the receiver, reclining slowly back into the chair as he pulled it to his ear.

“Rear Admiral Bogard, speaking.”

“Sir. This—this is the office taking reports on—”

“Dracule Mihawk, yes,” he said in a clipped tone. “Your report.”

“He was sighted recently in the port city of Acacia.” Bogard gave brief hum in acknowledgment. “In Dressrosa—”

“I’m quite aware of where Acacia is located,” he said. “Are there any further details worth mentioning?”

“It appears he made port to gather supplies. No casualties, he was gone by the time the reports reached us. And, uh...well…” Bogard gave an impatient sigh at the hesitation of the Marine at the other end of the line. “It’s...well, he wasn’t exactly alone? Our reports say he had a gray bird sitting on his hat.”

He slowly lifted an eyebrow, glancing at Garp. “A gray bird on his hat,” said Bogard, and rolled his eyes at Garp’s bark of laughter. “Is that all?”

“Well, he didn’t really cause any problems. Gave a pet store owner a pretty good fright, but she insists he paid for everything.”

A—pet store—” He shoved his hand over the receiver to shush Garp as the vice admiral burst into hearty laughter, to absolutely no avail. He lowered his hand again, shaking his head. “Keep her on your radar. Myself and Vice Admiral Garp will be en route soon to take her statement.”

“Yes, sir—”

He dropped the receiver back onto the snail on the desk, hanging up the call, strumming his fingers against his knee as he waited for Garp to get a hold of himself.

“Straight to a pet store,” he chuckled, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “I’d say the girl’s already outdone herself.”

“So it would seem,” said Bogard stiffly. He leaned into the arm of his chair, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as Garp stood, picking up his coat from the back of his own chair.

“On your feet, man. Looks like we’re bound for Dressrosa.”

“Indeed it does,” agreed Bogard, pulling himself to his feet. It was a marked relief to know that the operation seemed to be going according to plan, of course—even if it meant he would have to endure Garp’s gloating for the foreseeable future.

###

Amid your brief outing to gather supplies, you had learned three things about Dracule Mihawk—none of which, unfortunately, would help further your mission.

The first was that he did his best to avoid direct confrontation with Marines in most circumstances, as they did him. The moment he had been sighted by a pair of cadets on patrol near the docks of Acacia, they had gone white and fled immediately in the direction of their base. He had done little more than roll his eyes at the sight, and assure you as you perched on the brim of his hat that there should be no concern of a fight. You had already learned during your training that most of his hostility toward Marines had been a result of him being attacked, so it was no surprise. The information might be important—it would, if nothing else, mean he might be more likely to accept the offer of Warlord status, should that come to pass.

Secondly, you had learned that he was quite the charmer. The owner of the small pet store he had entered with you had almost immediately gone into a panic at the mere sight of him, but the swordsman had easily assuaged her worries that was merely there as a customer in need of advice on how to handle caring for a bird. Within less than ten minutes, she had been happy to recommend him a couple books on the subject, and even close the shop long enough to walk to the docks as a willing hostage to ensure the Marines wouldn’t interfere with his departure.

Third, you had discovered he had all but completely trained the strange race of intelligent primates that resided on Kuraigana Island to do his bidding—well enough that they actually listened when he commanded them to carry the supplies he had returned with back to the castle. You couldn’t be sure whether he had trained them to handle weapons himself; but you were certain from the way they listened to his commands, and from the very manner in which they looked at him, tat they viewed him with equal parts fear and respect.

That, perhaps, was the best information you had gained. The beasts, which he referred to as humandrills, would attack anyone but him on sight, and they were formidable enough in strength and intelligence that their presence alone made the island an impenetrable fortress. That explained well enough why almost no one that had entered Kuraigana Island had lived to tell their tale.

You shifted your post to his shoulder in one of the larger studies in the sprawling castle, when he removed his hat and reclined back onto a daybed built into the window, flipping through a book he had bought from the shop in Acacia.

“‘Over one hundred years in captivity,’” he read aloud, sighing to himself. “Our friend at the shop said you didn’t seem much older than twenty. I suppose I’ll be stuck with you a while, won’t I?” You tilted your head when he glanced over at you, and he gave a small scoff, rolling his eyes back over to the book propped open against his knee. “Talking to a damned bird…” he mumbled to himself as he flipped a page. “Perhaps I am as mad as the rumors claim.”

There were a few other bits of information you had gleaned about Mihawk in the week you had spent posing as his feathery companion. You knew he spent the vast majority of his days either training, maintaining his sword, reading, or sleeping.

You knew that he enjoyed his solitude—and despite that, he didn’t seem to consider your presence as any imposition upon it.

You knew, whether he realized it or not, that he had a soft spot for animals. His attitude toward the humandrills was evidence enough of that, given he could have easily wiped them off of Kuraigana Island had he wanted to. He had instead chosen to live in peace with them. While it was clear they feared him, that he had definitely established his dominance among them at some point, he still spoke to them with a sort of respect that they seemed to emulate. In the same way, he had a tendency to talk to you as if you were able to understand him, despite his belief that you were just a parrot.

And you knew, having grown up on a reservation for exotic birds, that people who were kind to animals tended to be inherently good.

You had learned, little as you wanted to admit it, that he was kind.

He could be impatient, he could be downright terrifying and deadly if he wanted or needed to be—but the vast majority of the time, he desired nothing more than the peace and quiet to do as he pleased. It made perfect sense why he had decided to set up base on this gloomy little island. It was a place where no one could bother him, where he could spend his time sipping wine and deciding his next course of action without any interruption.

You found yourself growing just as comfortable with the silence and solitude as the days dragged on. As your two month period of observation drew closer and closer to its end, you honestly found yourself dreading it. While you had managed to successfully embed yourself into Mihawk’s daily routine, you had failed to find anything at all that the Marines might consider an actual weakness on his part.

Sure, he seemed to respect the humandrills, but you doubted he would be too concerned at anyone attempting taking them hostage—they could handle themselves

Yes, he valued his solitude, but there wasn’t much that could impede upon that.

There was only one thing you could honestly think of that he might consider a weakness, and you were loathe to admit to it yourself.

As you perched at the footboard of his bed, tucking your beak down into your feathers and pretending to drift off to sleep, you knew that you might be his only weakness.

You knew that every night for nearly two months, he had gone to sleep with you perching mere inches away from him, nonethewiser that he had an enemy in his midst, that you were tracking and noting his every move, that his only loyal companion was spying on him.

You lifted your head from your wing, watching him sleep soundly with a hand tucked behind his neck, knowing that within a few days you would have to leave.

Knowing yourself how much it hurt to lose a beloved pet.

How much it might hurt him—

No. No, you couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t consider it. You were a marine, you had a mission to follow through on, one that you were nearly finished with.

You had to figure out what to do. If you kept overthinking it you were bound to jeopardize everything. The thought of lying to Garp and Bogard made your stomach twist, but...so did the alternative. To tell them that you may have inadvertently become the only potential weakness of the pirate you were supposed to be gathering intelligence on sounded laughable even in your own head, even if it was the truth. The stress had made it nearly impossible to sleep for days, almost impossible to eat.

You knew you were only supposed to make outside contact if your life was in immediate danger, but if you continued on your current path you were bound to lose focus and slip up, and then your life would be in danger. The only den den mushi that you knew to be in the expansive castle was situated in the large study one floor down in the tower from the bedroom, far enough away that you wouldn’t disturb the sleeping swordsman as long as you kept your voice down….

You had to. You had to make the call now. Keeping your eyes glued to Mihawk, stretched across the bed with a hand tucked behind his neck, the covers twisted and only half draped across his midsection and legs, breathing deeply, you fluttered your wings a few times.

Gave a small whistle.

He didn’t so much as twitch in his sleep.

Drawing up your resolve, you hopped down from the ornate footboard of the bed, spreading your wings out to glide across to the open door of the bedroom, landing softly on the stone floor just outside. You crept slowly, silently along the edge of the wall, your heart racing as you made your way down the spiraling stairs.

As you edged the cracked door a bit further open with your beak, just enough that you could slip through but not enough to make the old hinges creak.

Shifting out of your devil fruit form after so long felt strange. The study was still enormous, practically a small library, but it seemed a great deal smaller to you as you glanced around at it now. The effect was almost dizzying as you lifted the receiver from the den den mushi and quickly turned the dial on the device before you could change your mind and return to the safety of the bedroom.

You nearly jumped when your call was answered in less than a single ring.

“Rear Admiral Bogard. This had best be important.”

You swallowed, glancing toward the grandfather clock in the corner of the darkened room, illuminated only by the silvery light of the half-moon that drifted through the window behind the desk. It was nearly four in the morning, and he sounded equal parts tired and irate.

“I—I...ah…”

Silence met you as you struggled to form a sentence, to articulate even in your own addled mind exactly why you were doing this.

Bogard saved you the trouble of finishing your thought.

“Are you compromised?” His voice became curt in an instant, far more awake and aware than his initial greeting.

“N...not exactly. Not yet. I…” You swallowed, closing your eyes, and forced yourself to speak quickly, quietly. “He has no weaknesses. The only chance of reducing the threat he poses to the Marines is by offering him Warlord status.”

Several seconds of silence again, followed by a heavy sigh as you clutched the receiver in a death grip, your eyes glued to the door of the study.

“Garp’s going to be thrilled to hear that,” he grumbled, and you gave a quiet hum of agreement to his sarcasm. “You have four days left, are you certain—”

“There’s no point continuing,” you said. “There aren’t any—”

“None,” he said. “None at all?”

“No, there aren’t,” you insisted. “I either have to make the offer or I leave empty-handed. That’s all there is to it.”

“You have your orders, cadet. Four more days, then you make your way to the nearest evacuation point. After—”

“I have to make the offer first. He’ll be suspicious if I disappear and return,” you said. You swallowed as he grew silent again. “He doesn’t let me out of his sight. I made sure he was sleeping before I left to make this call. If any ships show up here he’ll just cut them in half. If anyone makes it onto the island they’ll have to get through the humandrills—”

“Humandrills?”

“The—apes, they sort of act as a natural security system, it’s…” You sighed yourself, running a hand back through your hair. “This was always going to be one potential outcome. I was well aware my life could be danger when I accepted the mission. At the very least I can get the offer across before being killed and potentially avoid the need for anyone else to die.”

Silence.

The silence was worse than being told no, than being scolded for going against orders.

The silence made the pounding of your heart even more deafening in your ears than it already was.

“I’ll inform Garp immediately,” he said finally. “Find some way to make the offer that will allow you to escape quickly should the need arise, and do so within the next four days. If you don’t make contact again before then, or if you aren’t at the evacuation point by the end of the designated day, we are prepared to employ a Buster Call—”

“That—won’t be necessary,” you said immediately, your stomach clenching harder than ever. The thought of an entire armada of Marine ships surrounding the island, blasting everything upon it into oblivion, wasn’t a welcome thought at all. The grizzly scar on your right arm served as a reminder of how dangerous the humandrills could be, how violent the beasts were by nature, but you couldn’t stand the thought of being the reason for an entire species being wiped out. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I suppose we’ll have to trust your judgment on the matter for now,” Bogard said wearily. “You’ve had more contact with Dracule Mihawk over the two months than anyone in our ranks has had over the last decade.” You swallowed, your throat gone dry as you waited for him to continue. “Four days. Make the offer.” Another labored sigh. “And stay safe, cadet.”

“Yes, sir.”

You swallowed again as you quietly hung up the receiver, not willing to clear your throat for the potential of the sound echoing down the hall and rousing Mihawk from his sleep.

You hadn’t necessarily lied. The idea that you could be a weakness was only an idea, not a concrete fact. It was honestly laughable. He had been seen with you in public, after all. He was more than intelligent enough to know that the Marines were likely well aware of his new feathery companion. If he considered you a liability he wouldn’t have kept you around to begin with.

You kept telling yourself this as you shifted back into your devil fruit form and crept silently back into the bedroom on the next floor up, as you climbed the woodwork at the foot of the bed and perched there again.

He had rolled onto his side in his sleep, but otherwise showed no signs of having stirred in your brief absence. You did the only thing you could—you tucked your head back beneath your wing and shut your eyes, trying to slow your heart and still your mind enough to sink into an uneasy sleep.

You had evidently fallen asleep at some point, for when you lifted your head again and fluttered your wings, you found yourself squinting against the sunlight pouring in through the windows in the bedroom, the bed empty and neatly made. The source of the rustling that had stirred you awake became evident when you turned your head to see Mihawk adjusting a loose, ruffled white shirt over his shoulders and pushing the wardrobe shut.

He jolted a bit when you mimed a loud yawn, looking back over his shoulder as you stretched your wings out and ruffled your feathers.

“Wind in your sails,” you squawked out in greeting. He huffed out a sigh, already holding out his arm as you flew the short distance between him and the foot of the bed, your talons wrapping around his forearm.

“Yes, good morning,” he said dryly. He had been up for at least a bit longer than you, you noted as he lifted a mug of coffee from the end table next to the bedroom door and took a sip from it. He shook his arm a bit, a silent indication for you to move to his shoulder, and you quickly obliged the silent request. “You slept in,” he commented. “It’s nearly noon. Lazy creature.”

And yet he was the one who yawned. He gave a small scoff when you imitated the sound as he headed out of the bedroom and down the spiraling stairs of the tower at the eastern side of the castle.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to talk to you over the course of the day as if you understood him, for him to roll his eyes or chuckle at your repetitive responses. You had frankly grown accustomed to the mindless banter, so used to playing your role that it came naturally. It was for this exact reason that when he left the castle and headed in the direction of the forest without saying a single word to you that you piped out a curious, “Whatcha doooin?”

“I thought we’d go for a little stroll this morning.”

That was unusual.

He usually spent his morning flipping through the newspaper, sipping coffee and making dry comments about the state of current affairs.

He glanced at you when you tilted your head.

“There’s a bit of business at the shore I need to see to,” he went on in explanation, reaching over to scratch at the feathers between your neck and the edge of your wing. “Nothing to get your feathers ruffled over, pretty bird.”

“Pretty bird,” you repeated, leaning your head into the light touch—though your stomach did a somersault at his words. Business at the shore. You doubted Bogard would have gone against his word, but there was every possibility that Garp might have made a different decision. You still kept your composure, kept up your act, crooning out as you nuzzled toward his hand, “Pretty, pretty girl.”

“Yes, yes, pretty girl,” he agreed, rolling his eyes, and the small hint of a smile curving his lips as he patted your head set you a bit more at ease.

You were being paranoid, that was all. There was bound to be a morning here or there that didn’t adhere perfectly to his normal routine. It had nothing to do with you, with your business there.

You spent the brief stroll down the path carved through the dense forest whistling to yourself, occasionally mimicking the sounds of other birds throughout the woods, watching for signs of the humandrills moving through the edge of the trees to track Mihawk’s movements as they so often did when he passed through.

Relief flooded through you as you emerged onto the sandy coastline and saw no sign of even a single ship between the shore and the horizon. Yes, paranoid, you were simply being paranoid, there was nothing at all to worry about—

Nothing to worry about, surely, as he stopped at the edge of the water.

As he reached his and across and abruptly wrapped his hand around your neck, pinning your wings down, and pulled you away from his shoulder.

“You’ll have to forgive me, pretty girl, for being overcautious.”

His sharp yellow eyes narrowed as he held you out in front of him, and slowly resumed walking out toward the water.

You weren’t just being paranoid.

“If I’m wrong, I will feel awful about this.”

Your eyes flitted between his and the water below, the gentle tide washing around the ankles of his boots as he crouched down in the shallows.

“But if I’m right…”

You were frozen in terror as he lowered you, his hand tight around your wings to ensure you hand no chance of escaping, toward the water.

As his mouth curled into a small, self-assured smirk, and he plunged you into the shallow depths.

Every ounce of strength left you the moment you touched the foamy brine rolling in over the sand, your body shifting out of your devil fruit form as you lay limp and defenseless and drenched, the waves washing around your head and your shoulders as he tilted his head, lifting his eyebrows as you stared up at him in mounting terror.

In case of something like this.

He shifted, pinning your legs down against the wet sand with one of his knees, giving a small chuckle. His eyes raked over you, your drenched tank top and cargo pants you had worn to ensure there was no sign of your Marine affiliations in case of emergency.

“I suppose we have a lot to discuss.”

You flinched as his hand tightened around your neck and he pulled you up harshly, gritting your teeth as he brought his face mere inches away from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brush across your lips.

“Don’t we, pretty girl?”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

[lunaabahng]

I literally dreamed all this, I hope you like it

first time writing smut in eng soooo its not perfect obv, but i tried. hope you are going to like it :))

You, a skilled soldier, reunites with your childhood friend, König, who once confessed his love to you before y'all both joined the military. Now serving alongside Task Force 141—and developing a deep connection with Ghost—you find yourself caught between your past and present as both men compete for you.

You barely had time to catch your breath as you slipped into the quiet briefing room. You’d been sent here to wait for some intel, and the room was supposed to be empty. Instead, two towering figures loomed near the table: Ghost and König.

König’s eyes met yours first. The hint of softness and nostalgia in his expression was unmistakable. You would recognize those eyes everywhere. You could almost see the shy, gangly boy you’d once defended, the boy who confessed his feelings the night before he left for the military. Memories of his voice—trembling but earnest—whispering his love for you filled your mind. Memories of the night comes back, one of your best nights.

And then, of course, there was Ghost.

He stood nearby, arms crossed, his mask pulled low as always, but his intense eyes pierced right through you. He didn’t know your history with König, but he was Ghost, and he was never one to miss tension in a room. And he could sense it, alright. His gaze flickered between you and König, sharp and assessing. Ghost wasn’t one to share.

The silence was thick.

“König,” you said, your voice softer than you’d intended. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

His stare was unwavering, that same vulnerability from years ago beneath the surface, though he was almost unrecognizable now: a towering force, hardened and capable, and his face covered by his mask. "Ja, it’s been... a while.” There was a hint of hesitancy, a side only you knew. “I’m glad to see you again."

Ghost’s eyes narrowed slightly at König's tone. “So, you two know each other,” he stated, voice calm but with an edge.

König’s gaze flickered to Ghost before returning to you. "Yes. A long time ago.” There was an unspoken and then some in his tone.

Ghost’s lips curved ever so slightly beneath his mask, an almost mocking smile. “Old friends, huh?”

You could almost feel König tense. Memories came rushing back—the times you’d protected him, fought for him, felt closer to him than to anyone. But that was before Ghost, before you’d felt the quiet thrill of being by his side, of trading subtle, electrifying glances in the middle of dangerous missions.

“I think she was more than that,” König murmured, stepping forward just enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his form. “We looked out for each other, didn’t we?”

Ghost’s eyebrow raised. “Oh, did you?” He tilted his head, his eyes flashing with that possessive glint you’d come to know.

König clenched his jaw. “I wasn’t here before. But I am now.” He turned his attention fully to you, lowering his voice, his eyes softening. “Maybe it’s time to pick up where we left off, ja?”

The tension was overwhelming, two forces closing in from either side. You could feel Ghost’s gaze boring into you, daring you to choose. But König’s eyes, vulnerable and intense, told a different story—a history, a promise, and the quiet, persistent love he’d held onto all this time.

“Who says I need to choose?” you murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. Both men stilled, caught off guard by the boldness of your words.

König’s eyes widened, and Ghost’s were unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something like amusement. He gave a slow nod, crossing his arms again, a hint of approval in his stance.

And as you stood there, caught between your past and present, you realized maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to let go of either. And you didn't.

“What do you have in mind?” König asked, intrigued.

“Let’s see if I can handle both of you,” you replied, the challenge igniting the air around you.

Ghost caught the glimmer of mischief in your eyes and smiled, sensing the shift in the dynamic. “I think you can handle it just fine,” he chimed in, his eyes roaming over your entire body.

“We only have one way to find out,” you say, not even knowing yourself where all this bold courage was coming from.

But you knew one thing. You wanted them both. Your heart pounds hard, each breath heavier than the last. Your eyes shift from one to the other, and though you try to keep a calm expression, inside, a desire grows that you can no longer hide—at least from yourself: you want them both. In every way possible.

It’s not just attraction; it’s something deeper, more urgent. You can’t decide, and you don’t even want to. Forbidden fantasies flash through your mind, the thought of their hands on you, their bodies pressing against yours, igniting a fire that you can’t extinguish. You envision the way their eyes darken with desire, how they both challenge you, and how exhilarating it feels to be at the center of their attention.

As they stand close, the air thick with tension, you can sense the unspoken competition between them, each vying for your affection in their own way. You feel exhilarated and terrified all at once. Your pulse quickens as you realize that they might be aware of the way you feel, the way your body reacts to each of them.

What if you surrendered to this? What if you let go of your inhibitions and embraced the chaos? You could have both, the thought dances enticingly in your mind. The thrill of the possibility sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to give in to your desires, to let them both claim you in their own ways.

You catch their eyes, and in that moment, you see a flicker of understanding pass between them. A silent acknowledgment that whatever happens next will change everything. The desire burns brighter, and the weight of your longing feels almost tangible.

Would they be willing to share? The idea is intoxicating, making your heart race even faster. You can feel the heat radiating from them, the way they both draw you in, compelling you to make a choice—or perhaps to embrace the wildness of wanting it all.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. Whatever happens next, you know you’re ready to explore this tension and the undeniable attraction that binds you all together.

König closed the distance, his hand brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “Are you sure?” His fingers trailed down to your waist, teasingly resting there. “'Cause if you're, I'm gonna take advantage of that.”

You looked up at him, your breath hitching as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. His fingers lingered, a gentle yet firm touch that made you lean closer, wanting more.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His mask concealed most of his face, but his eyes burned with intensity, watching every move you and König made. There was a mixture of intrigue and possessiveness in his gaze that made your heart race even faster.

“Careful, König,” Ghost called out, his voice steady but with a hint of playful warning. “You might get burned.”

König chuckled, never breaking his gaze from you. “I think I can handle a little heat.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a rush of warmth through you. “Besides, I like to play with fire.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “What do you say we make this a little more interesting?” His fingers tightened around your waist, his smirk widening. “I can give you a little fun, and Ghost can watch.”

You glanced at Ghost, who remained silent, but his eyes sparkled with amusement and interest. There was something exhilarating about the idea of being in this moment with both of them, the thrill of their attention on you igniting something deep within.

“Are you up for it?” Konig asked, his voice smooth and inviting. You nodded, a playful smile creeping across your face.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you challenged, heart racing with anticipation.

As König moved closer, his eyes couldn't stop from moving. He continued to watch you, not knowing where to rest his gaze. Noticing his nervousness, you decided to take the initiative.

König hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.

“I've missed you,” he whispered, while you kneel. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

Your hands move to König’s duty belt and you unclasp it, then work to free his cock from his pants. Precum is already beading at the tip and you gently run your tongue along it, tasting him as he groans his approval, one gloved hand running through your hair. You take his length into your mouth, sucking gently as your hands wander along his black shirt just under his tactical vest.

“Oh fuck, Meine Schatz….”

You look up at him as you continue at a slow pace, meeting his hooded eyes as he gazes down at you with pure adoration. Just the sound of his voice sends even more waves of pleasure straight to your core. 

“Good girl,” he reached behind your head, gesturing for you to get your warm lips around his dick already. Your tongue sent shivers up König spine, his hand shaking from the gesture as he pushed his length into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, I—”

You hum in approval, sparing a glance at him and his dick. He hadn’t touched you yet, not fully, but the way he looked at you was enough to unravel you. You’re just teasing him, his grasp on your head gets tighter and tighter and his little whines and moans slip faster and faster.

You had almost forgot about Ghost, when suddenly you felt someone behind you. You got distracted by his presence, but König brings you back to him immediately. “Don't stop please, keep—fucking me maus. Keep sucking me s-so good… this cock is all yours, all yours maus… keep it up.”

“Isn't she a good girl, König?” Ghost's eyes are black with desire. You can feel them even if you can’t see him. His hands start to touch you, almost as if he's afraid of hurting you. He slips his hands under your shirt and begins to play with the strap of your bra.

“She's my good girl,” König answer, moaning as he feels the rhythm quicken. You started using your tongue.

“Are you sure?” Ghost's tease, and you can feel his hands on your tits. He start play with your nipples.

König grip tighter on your head, “you were mine. Tell him how you liked it. How you loved it.”

You pull your mouth off his cock, “can y'all stop bickering and start to touch me?”

Ghost doesn't need to be told twice. He helps you up and guides you to the table where he sits you down and place himself between your legs. He takes off your shirt and starts playing with your breasts. König, still where you left him, starts touching himself while watching you and Ghost. You liked it.

With a smirk you take Ghost's face into your hands, and, slowly, you lifted the mask just enough to reveal the lower half of his face, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You giggle softly, wrapping your arms around Ghost's neck and pulling him closer to you, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. His hands found their way to your waist, fingers gently tracing along the fabric your naked body, igniting a spark of electricity between you.

As he leaned in, his breath mingled with yours, the tension in the air thickening. You could sense König eyes, his presence a silent but powerful force, watching with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Are you going to keep me waiting?” Ghost teased, his lips brushing against yours, just a whisper away. You couldn’t resist any longer; you leaned in, closing the gap between you.

Your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as you melted against him. Ghost responded eagerly, his hands gripping your waist tighter, pulling you closer as the kiss ignited a fire within you. You felt his warmth, his strength, and it made you crave more.

Over his shoulder, you could feel König's gaze piercing into you, watching intently, his presence both comforting and electrifying. As the kiss between Ghost and you intensifies, your eyes drift to König, and you look at him. His dark eyes shine with desire and curiosity, piercing through you like fire, and the tension between the three of you is palpable. Your heart races in your chest, acutely aware of the power you hold in this situation.

Ghost holds you close, his hand sliding down your back as he deepens the kiss, and you feel the passion escalating. But despite the intensity of the moment, you can’t help but keep your gaze fixed on König. There’s something magnetic about him, and the way he watches you makes you feel alive and desired.

König steps forward slowly, his eyes locked onto your face. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice deep and warm. “That’s why I can’t look away.”

Ghost breaks the kiss, turning his attention to König with a smirk. “You’re not the only one who thinks so,” he says, his tone playful but laced with a hint of possessiveness.

König chuckles softly, his gaze still on you. “Maybe we should share a moment, then,” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You feel the heat radiating between the two men, each offering you something different yet equally tantalizing. The tension in the air thickens as you stand at the crossroads of desire, and you’re not sure how you want to proceed.

Ghost leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “What do you say? We could have some fun together,” he says, his dark eyes flickering with mischief and longing.

In a moment, you’re standing in front of them, almost all naked, the air thick with tension and desire. With a swift motion, Ghost has you lying back on the table, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve as he revels in the control he has over you. He has stripped you bare, leaving you vulnerable and exposed, and the thrill of it sends shivers down your spine.

His fingers dance teasingly across your skin, igniting fire wherever he touches. You gasp as he plays with your clit and your body responds eagerly to his every caress, the heat between you palpable.

Meanwhile, König approaches the end of the table, his expression a mix of desire and mischief. He watches you with hungry eyes, his body taut with anticipation. “I see you’re enjoying yourself,” he says, his voice deep and smooth.

He positions himself at the edge of the table, and with a boldness that sends a thrill through you, he reaches down, guiding his member towards your lips. “Open up for me,” he commands softly, the authority in his voice making your heart race.

You follow his command, parting your lips as he slowly pushes himself inside your mouth. The sensation is overwhelming, and you feel him fill you completely, each inch igniting your desire further.

Ghost watches with a smirk, his hands still exploring your body as you work your mouth around König. The combination of their attention—Ghost’s teasing touch and König’s commanding presence—pushes you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, their desires intertwining with yours, creating a whirlwind of passion that pulls you deeper into the moment.

“Look at you,” Ghost murmurs, his voice low and filled with lust. “Such a good girl, taking him like that.” The praise makes you feel even more exhilarated, and you respond with soft moans, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through König as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

As you glance up at König, you see the pleasure etched on his face, the way he’s lost in the moment. The heat of the situation intensifies, and you know that this night is just beginning, filled with exploration and desire that you’re eager to discover.

When Ghost starts eating you out, using his tongue, you find yourself bucking your hips into his face, almost too enthusiastically.

“You're so wet”, he grabs your thighs and pulls you even closer, sticking his tongue in your hole before dragging it up to circle your clit messily.

The stimulation on your clit makes you cum on his face, and you try shoving him off of you, but it's no use. This hulking mass of a man stays with his tongue buried in your pussy, and it's too much in the best way possible. You're overstimulated and shaky; he takes your clit between his lips and sucks like it's a lollipop, and you moan loudly, for how much König's dick let you.

“Look at me,” König orders, but Ghost doesn't let you.

At this point, the noises he makes are louder than yours. He's licking up every drop of your wetness and soaking his face in your juices. You try to lock your legs together so he can't reach your overstimulated pussy, but he pries them apart and continue to play with you.

König is jealous. He looked down at you, eyes ice yet possessing a warmth he held only for you. He take off his dick from your mouth, and reached down after lifting up his mask, pressing an uncoordinated but possessive kiss to your lips. His breath fanned your face, uneven.

Ghost watches you get comfy, reaching up to finally play with your nipple again. Your moans make it so much worse. They’re so whiny, and he knows that this isn’t enough for you—he knows you need his fat cock, fucking into you at a pace with a certain roughness you oh so love.

So he get away from your wet clit, and starts lowering his pants. You moan on König's mouth, while Ghost's hand reaches for his cock, holding it at the base and nudging the tip at you clit. He rubs the tip continuously at it, occasionally running through your hole.

You instinctively open your legs wider for him, moaning as you feel wetness pool out of your pussy. He eases himself inside you, breathing heavily at how you clamp down on him immediately.

Feeling how incredibly tight you are, Ghost grips your waist for support, pulling you closer to sink himself deeper into you. You flutter around him so sweetly, welcoming his cock with such warmth and pleasure that it has him lost for words.

Soon enough, he pounds away at you, hitting your sweet spot that pushes you to let out some cute little bleats. While you were losing your mind being fucked by his cock, König started touch himself close to your mouth; you could take it all in your mouth, but everytime you tried, Ghost fasted his moves, making you moan in pleasure.

König watched you, a mix of jealousy and excitement in his eyes. Without giving you time to recover from a moan, he pushed his member into your mouth and and starts to move quickly, almost making you choke. His fingers grip your hair, and he starts to command your movements.

You must remind yourself to breathe through your nose and tamp down on the primal instinct to choke as he begins to fuck your face. “Good girl— shit.” When you chance an upwards look, König’s head is tilted back in pleasure.

But it's when Ghost combines his fingers, rubbing at your clit, with his hard thrusts that you finally scream so loud. “Ghost!”

“Cum with me.” He says so stoically. And you do.

Ghost don't pulls out, he became more hungry, and start going for a second round, not giving you the time to rest. You moan, call his name, stopping just when König put his dick into your mouth, again. Your moans vibrate around his sensitive flesh, sparking a fresh wave of salty pre-cum to mix with the messy saliva drooling all over your tits.

His dick twitches when he picks up the pace, hips meeting your face more forcefully. “Think— fuck, think you can take the rest?” König pants. When you think you might flash him a dirty look, he intentionally guides your face up to thrust the blunt, thick tip of his cock against your soft palate. He’s making you choke just because he can.

Your hands weakly braced on his shins, König slips himself a few inches further into your throat. “Gonna make me come in your mouth if you’re not careful, maus.” It wouldn’t be physically possible for any human to deep-throat this man. You change tactics in your determination to at least try.

Succumbing, giving in, letting him chase his release as he groans and tells you how wonderful you are, all of that helps open your throat up as far as it can go. König doesn’t slow down or anything, not really. But as he speaks, as he thrusts his cock between your bruised lips, he tucks some stray hair out of your face.

Ghost’s gasping, exhaling hard through his nose while he tries to re-adjust. The feeling of you squeezing him is unbearable. “You want it? Yeah?” You nod.

 “You’re— fuck, fuck that’s incredible,” König tells you, “I’m coming—” He chokes out before spilling salty cum down your throat and fucking it in with a few prolonging thrusts. You like watching him come, his eyes meet yours. You pull back first with a sputtering cough. Neither a clean swallow nor a graceful spit is available to you right now, not after the volume of sticky white cum in your mouth and the critical lack of oxygen you endured for the sake of it. “Fuck, you're so beautiful with my cum on your face.”

You can only smile, before Ghost found your g-spot and start fucking you harder. König huffs “When he finishes, you’re gonna get up here, and sit that pretty, needy cunt on my face. Understand?”

“Yes,” you manage to whisper, while Ghost's hips snap into your ass, aiming viciously for your g-spot.

“You’ll come again. Like this,” he orders. Yessir.

König, wanting to get include, stars playing with your clit. He kissess you too. He keeps his fingers on your clit at the same pressure, same speed, and it feels so good that you’re going to start sobbing at any second. Your knees are about to give out, and Ghost’s thrusts get wilder, messier.

“Come. Come for me.”

Cunt spasming on his dick, your lungs empty and howling for relief. Your hips keep pushing back towards him to chase the high. Each wave is more painful, more powerful than the next, leaving you a twitching, helpless mess. You come so fucking hard around him that you think you were meant for this. It’s the sweetest relief, like hot fire licking through your veins.

It’s all Ghost and the cock he’s breaking you open on. Your pleasure slices into your gut like a sharpened knife, and your slick covers his pants, your thighs, the table below you.

He shoves himself into you one last, impossibly deep, painfully good time, and Ghost comes with a long, drawn-out moan as your muscles milk him. There’s a burst of warmth—except your spasming, still—orgasming pussy is packed to the brim with his cock, so you feel his come drip all over your trembling, weak legs.

You're exhausted, so you settle down on the table, feeling tired. König's voice calls for your name tho.

“Good girl. Now it's my turn.”

Oh, shit.

[fiendishfables]

hello!! i saw ur blog and i was super excited to see another aroaceee is it alright if you do platonic adam x reader headcanons? he can be reader's friend, sibling, or preferably reader's father figure as long as its platonic, anything u'd like is fine! sorry if my request is kinda weird lol, i just haven't seen a lot of platonic hazbin hotel stuff (especially stuff with adam in it)

a/n: Always good to meet other aroace individuals, indeed. I personally love Adam, he is absolutely my favorite character. I’ve been dying to write for him more and thinking of him as a dad is just my favorite scenario-

warnings: cursing, Adam being Adam, brief mentions of sex, subtle hints at Lute x Adam (if you squint)

words: 944

additional notes: this was one of my first asks I ever got; I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Enjoy~!

Adam as a Father Figure

Headcanons

First of all, he never expected to actually have a kid of his own, but now here he was

By the time you turned 6, you knew about every single curse word in existence, along with a (disturbingly) decent amount of female anatomy

Lute gets promoted to babysitter

When Adam is off performing with his band or needed in the council/other Heavenly resides, Lute is responsible for keeping track of his child

Even if she lost you (which she has, multiple times) he won't be that worried

You were a kid and as far as Adam knew, kids needed food

Hence how he knew you would find your way back to him eventually

Okay scratch that, maybe he does get a little worried...a lot

Starts to doubt his ability as a parent

Once he even got Sera to send out a search party for you because you had been gone longer than usual

It worried him sick whenever you went exploring, but he was almost a bit prideful that his offspring had managed to inherit his sneaking around capabilities already at such a young age

Lute has had to console her boss many times in response to your random disappearances under her watchfulness

He has legit been facedown on the couch with his head in her lap whilst he bawls his eyes out, blabbering to her about his worries pertaining to you, and then somehow that stems to his hopes and dreams in life (he doesn't wanna talk about it)

Only for you to walk in with food from some random location about 10 minutes later

You'd be on the floor as soon as you enter the domicile because Adam would have jumped on you and then proceeded to hug the very life out of you (all while stealing your bag of food in the process and running off with it)

Calls you a bitch, dumbass, and 'a little shit' for worrying him

Though he would never openly admit he had been worried

He doesn't care if you have a social life, he wants you home safe before 9pm, sharp

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Teaches you how to play guitar

He claims its because he wants to pass on one of his awesome talents to his only child, but he also really wants you to join him and his band on stage one day or another

You are in the starter stages of learning and are able to accurately get chords down and learn to read sheet music

A tear just may have come to his eye

The first song you two ever perform together is "Hell is Forever"

He did see someone try to give you a rose after your performance and nearly knocked them out

Trust him, he's a sex and relationship positive guy (for the most part) but he also can't help but feel like he wants to protect you at all costs

If you dare to call him over-protective, he will very gladly give you the silent treatment for a good 5 minutes

After that time mark, he will be groveling at your feet and whining about how sorry he is (rare that he actually says 'sorry')

His biggest fear is his own child having it out for him and not wanting anything to do with him

A clingy parent, no doubt

Wants to train you in the ways of becoming an Exorcist Angel

Poor guy is a bit insecure about everything and needs extra reassurance, though he would never ever outwardly ask for it

That's a sign of weakness in his eyes

Not for his child though

You come to him with even the smallest hint of watery eyes and he is already going full dad-mode

Determined to find the fucker who made you upset

Promises to give em' a good ol' kick in the balls (or vag)

Adam won't discriminate, he's just there to beat the ass of whoever hurt his precious baby

He will get in a fist fight with Sera in order to make you happy

Just expect to be the one he then blames when he gets demoted

── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Adam totally took lots of naps before he had a child, so this just makes for the two of you ending up crashing on the couch together and creating a melodic tune out of your in-sync snoring patterns

Anything the two of you can do together without constantly arguing is a miracle, so this is to be cherished

He has definitely given you some very creative nicknames (as he calls himself 'Dickmaster')

Lute has taken many pictures

She wants to make a photo album and give it to Adam one day just to piss him off

But as she knows how much he really cares for you, she does not want to risk him growing apart from you due to something stupid she did for a few momentary laughs

Let's you two have your moments without interrupting

The two of you always fight over food and who gets to pick where you go for the evening, if going anywhere at all

Lute claims that you are making Adam all the more emotional, but no one seems to be complaining

Especially not the High Council

Its nice to have him shut his mouth for once and remotely think about his actions and who they could potentially effect

Adam has something to lose now, and everyone in both Heaven and Hell alike knew it

No demon spawn would ever get to set even a foot near you

You were the first life he felt truly responsible for

He refuses to fuck it up and lose someone else he cares about

He would protect you until the ends of time, whether you liked it or not

[mosneakers]

Clementine: [staring at the screen in disbelief] This doesn't make any sense. She won… it's official. Kirsten: [with a heavy sigh] Well, I’ll be damned. You kids see the power you wield? You resurrected that Salas bunch, and now we’ve got a damn vampire in office. I'm telling you, it's that Darling family curse, it's no joke.

Salem: Yeah, no one's fucking laughing, mom.

Yellow: [Starts pacing, checking cell phone] Has anyone heard from Coraleye? It’s nearly 4 AM, and she hasn’t checked in. That’s not like her—especially after this long.

Donna, anxiously knitting on the sofa, turns to give her husband a loving glance, striving to keep her tone light and comforting. Donna: We needn't fret, love. She's likely off with Tycho, helping him get his mind off things like lovebirds do— hehe! Yellow: [Sighs] You’re probably right. I’ll give her more time before trying again. I do remember how it felt, being young and utterly smitten. [Grins and cheesily winks at Donna]

Salem: Disgusting.

Donna: You are! [Playfully sticks out tongue]

Seymour, thought to be asleep, croaks a laugh. Salem groans and leans forward, burying her head in her hands.

Out of nowhere, the Darling family landline rings, breaking the silence with a jolt. The unexpected sound causes even the family dog to yelp in surprise. Donna: Oh, heavens! It's alright, Mimsy, that's just the phone. Gave me a scare too; it hardly ever rings. Excuse me, I'll answer it.

Donna gently sets her knitting kit aside, then carefully maneuvers around the jumbled feet and dog, making her way to the foyer to tend to the ringing phone. Yellow tries his daughter’s cellphone once more, as Clementine nudges Salem with her leg. Clementine: What's wrong? Having doubts about resurrecting them? Salem: Of course not. Don’t be stupid. That was the only way I'd get you back. How was I supposed to know it'd get lead to this? She was so different all those years ago.

Donna, usually known for her bravery, suddenly cries out in distress from the foyer, causing Yellow to rush to her side, alarmed. Yellow: Donna, sweetheart! What's wrong? Who called? Donna: That was an officer from the city. We have to go pick up Coraleye right away! There's been a terrible accident. Yellow: What? What happened to her? Is she hurt?

Donna: She's safe, but it sounds like others may have been hurt, and she's rather quite shaken. They wouldn't elaborate, so I guess we'll learn more when we arrive. Oh! Let me just fetch my slippers!

Clementine: Shit, I’m pretty worried… should we tag along? Yellow: We’ll manage. Maybe you all stay here in case anything comes up here. Thanks, Clem. Mom— we'll be right back with Coraleye. Will you be alright getting Dad to bed? Kirsten: Yes, of course, hun. Just get my baby girl back home safe and soon.

Clementine: Ditto. Give her hugs and kisses for me. [Waits for Donna and Yellow to leave] What a crazy night. What do you think went down?

Salem: How should I know.

Clementine: Think it’s connected to Salas winning?

Salem: Most likely. And now that a psychotic vampire is in charge— this is just the beginning. Who knows what she's capable of?

Kirsten: You can say that again. How long is it gonna take before someone addresses that none of us mediums have been able to make contact with Jay Salas? I think the bitch killed her husband. Salem: Mom please, not now. Kirsten: Sorry! Just saying... I have my suspicions. Guess we'll save it for a later season.

Salem exhales heavily, clutching her scalp. Her gaze drifts to the glowing TV screen, where Tatiana's unsettling grin beams back, mocking her hesitation.

Salem: Ugh, fuck! I can’t believe I’m responsible for this fucking shitshow.

Clementine: [Brief silence, eyes transfixed on the screen] …You brought her into this realm.

Salem: …And I’m gonna have to take her out.

[pouralaura]

Sorry, this is probably weird. But my brain is Raphael 24/7 and he and Tav being obsessed with each other. But I was wondering how he’d react to a demi Tav?

He’s crushing and trying to impress for the longest time, and they are completely unphased. Like nothin’, nada. I’m sure he’d be frustrated. But also perplexed? He’s always been able to charm his way with people. So he meets this unmovable person and he’s like ???

But then imagining later on, Tav’s feelings for him suddenly hit them like a fucking train. All of their obsession with HIM hits like tenfold. He is the sexiest being in existence, and they are stupidly in love with him, and they are PANICKING.

I may be the only one who finds this particular scenario intriguing but 😅

Disclaimer: I am not well-versed in demisexuality and this is my first time writing it, so please pardon any lack of necessary nuance here. thanks to @reallyhatethiswebsite for helping me figure out the trigger point! they/them AFAB Tav, Raphael POV.

--

Had Raphael ever, in all of his hundreds of years, experienced such a maddening, tantalizing, mouthwatering proximity to victory? Every hellish fiber of his being thrums in anticipation of his looming triumph. The Crown, so close, its pull so alluring. The augury of his reign launches his mind into a state of utter bliss outside of business hours (and, frankly, often during), a grin on his face and his cock hard as a diamond beneath the quilting of his luxuriously expensive trousers. He is, simply put, so close.

There remains but a single obstacle in his way: a lost, floundering little mouse, so unprepared and ill-equipped for success -- at least, at first. Raphael had been pleasantly surprised at Tav's capability for mortal achievement once they'd gotten their feet underneath them. His respect for them grew as their conquests did; they'd proven an apt ally for many and a fearsome adversary for many more.

Flawed as they are, Tav is perfect for his plan. Raphael has every faith that they will be his savior (in a manner of speaking) now that the time is drawing near. They must succeed. They will. Such a headstrong, belligerent creature; all the sweeter to become the victor -- and, in line with that, to claim himself.

(More on that in a moment.)

He's ruminating on this, as he has near-incessantly in recent months, while strolling back to the Devil's Den from deeper within the city. Maintaining chivalrous relations with his hosts at Sharess' Caress is mandatory; he pauses at the front desk to brush a kiss across the delicate knuckles of the blushing Amira, inclines his head in polite greeting to various good-natured courtesans, and stops to exchange pleasantries with Hoots at the bar before ascending the stairs to his domain of the Gate. Trivial pursuits, but necessary.

(Back to the matter at hand --)

Yes, he will claim Tav himself.

...This point requires further clarification. He will claim Tav as a step to his own conquest. They will fulfill a contract with him. If it happens that they also wish for his claim in a more decidedly carnal way, what manner of devil would he be to deny them? A favor for a favor, after all.

But, alas, they'd proven nearly unmovable in that last respect. It's far from the first time Raphael has experienced, either implicitly or explicitly, rejection of his incomparable devilish charms -- but, to be fair: nearly all of the aforementioned occurrences had been caused by an innate preference for the fairer sex. Their loss, perhaps; but it simply couldn't be helped -- and certainly not a stain on his ego.

(Tav, for what it's worth, however, does not seem limited by such preferences. Near-flawless reconnaissance is a gift and a curse; Raphael is very much aware of their blessedly brief dalliance with the insufferable vampling.)

Such hopes for mutual understanding on levels to-be-determined had been dashed, indeed, until a particular point of curiosity earlier in the week, when Tav and their ragtag gang of unappealing ruffians had met him upstairs at the Caress following his confrontation with the inestimable Kith'rak. Voss had left, and Raphael had snapped his fingers to shield Tav and their party from the detestable illithid shouting about in their heads --

The devil had watched figurative clicking cogs turn between the little mouse's ears for several seconds as they processed the assumedly blissful silence he'd fleetingly gifted them.

"I don't...hear anything." Tav's voice had been quiet. Surprised.

"You are, as always, welcome." He'd smugly spread his arms, inclining his head in a mock bow. "My favorite future client deserves nothing if not the very best I can offer."

There were no differences in how he'd behaved on this occasion, but the way Tav looked at him after his effortless momentary aid was far more layered than during any previous encounter. And, if he was correct -- colored by the hint of a blush, one that he could smell before he could see. The scent of blood rising to their cheeks, dusting their pretty countenance with just a trace of something. A crack. A break.

Perhaps.

Delicious.

He nears the door of the Devil's Den, and...stops.

There is a familiar scent in the air; one he did not expect to be greeted by upon his return to The Office. It's them.

His little mouse is inside. Must have climbed through a window, leapt across rooftops to reach the one opening he leaves regularly and intentionally unwarded for just this precise possibility.

(Korrilla, behind his back, raises her eyebrows at this deliberate lapse in security each time it's included in his instruction. She's lucky he doesn't snap the bones in each of her toes one-by-one.)

Cautiously, he wills the hellish locks to open. Carefully, he presses long, tanned fingers to the door's handle. With deliberation, he pushes into the room.

It takes him two point three seconds to register that Tav is not only in the room, but on their back on the rich, plush red duvet-covered bed, propped up on their elbows, staring straight at him with the loveliest blush dusted across the apples of their cheeks. He steps stiffly into his domain, letting the heavy wooden door close and lock behind him with a decided click. Another seven point eight seconds to close the distance between them (he slinks across the room slowly, like a cat); a full nine seconds, once he's arrived at the bedside, to drink in Tav's nakedness from head to toe -- well, except for the whipped cream adorning the tips of their breasts, if one could call that any sort of coverage. And -- ah. An amber liquid filling the divot of their belly button.

His mouth curls up into a satisfied little smirk. They have been paying attention.

"Are you here to accept my offer, little mouse?" Raphael finally asks, low and warm and purring.

He watches them swallow. Breathe. Follows the red flush as it spreads, heated, down their neck, between their cream-laden breasts, around their liquor-filled navel, all the way down to the lovely pink of their vulnerable, exposed, undeniably glistening sex.

"I am not. At least, not yet." In a contrast to their blush, Tav's voice is strong and level as they continue despite Raphael's responding sneer. "I am here to make one of my own."

"And what, pray tell," the devil bites out, voice tinged with the familiar mix of irritation, intrigue, and damning arousal this creature heralds within him, "might that be?"

"I'm inclined to accept, but only following further discussion." They grin. "But over dinner, here. And...you'll need to do something about my --" here they motion to the confectionary disaster writ upon their flawed, mortal body, beneath him in every way -- "current state."

He'll play along, if only to ease the tightness in his trousers.

Less than ten minutes later, when Raphael is laving his forked tongue along the underside of Tav's breast, lapping up the last of the cream and holding himself back from spilling onto the sheets beneath them, he thinks: I am in control.

Tav moans as he bites; as he presses his face between their thighs, a ragged whine bubbles up from his throat, hot and needy.

They'll be mine yet.

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 6

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Producer!Reader made a little something

Warning: Swearing, Suggestive Content, MENTION OF PAST SH!!!!!

AN: I have been swamped, again. Apologies for the delay :( For some reason my ADHD brain have decided to start two new works before I finished this draft >_< Anyhoo thank you for tuning in again ^_^

Previous | Next

You nodded approvingly at the screen as you downloaded your audio files. Finally inspired, you coursed through songs like a mad man.

Y/N: I am DONE 🤭

Latrice: FINALLY

Latrice: i’m coming over

Y/N: Are you sure

Y/N: It’s like

Y/N: 2 in the morning

Latrice: bitch have I ever missed a single song drop

Y/N: No 🙆🏻‍♀️ You’re the best

Latrice: duh

Latrice: since I’m the best

Latrice: 👀

Latrice: can I-

Latrice: 👉🏾👈🏾

Y/N: Hold the fuck up ☝🏾

Latrice: c’mon shes driving me

Y/N: 🙄

Y/N: Only if she stays outside

Y/N: And I don’t want to hear about it 🙉

Latrice: about what

Y/N: 🙉

Latrice: ???

Latrice: about what bitch??

You ignored Latrice’s text and focused on finishing the task at hand, casting a brief glance at the recording pen in the corner of your desk. A sly grin spread across your lips as mischievous ideas glistened in your eyes.

You were just putting the finishing touches on your trance beat when Latrice knocked on your door.

“Just a second!” You quickly downloaded the file and sent it off before opening the door for Latrice, followed by a platinum blonde. Rolling your eyes at the unwelcome guest, you let out a sigh and before giving your friend a brief side hug. “I thought I said she stays in the car?”

Latrice handed you a few containers of food, and you happily accepted the edible bribery. 

You shot one last glare at the sheepishly smiling Mannequeen member and then turned to face the speaker. 'If she snitches, I'll shave her bald,' you muttered to Latrice, who rolled her eyes at your empty threat.

“Stop being a cunt,” your friend jabbed you on the side, “she’s an angel when the cameras aren’t pointing at her.”

You hummed and nodded with a hint of disbelief before turning on the tunes, devouring the boxes of food while the duo jammed to your new track. 

Two boxes of fried rice and half a serve of fried chicken later, the fifth song wrapped up and you look up at them. “How was it?”

“I. Love. It.” Latrice squeaked and squeezed you into a hug.

“I don’t know, you say that every time so I don’t think you’re a reliable narrator,” Latrice has always been your biggest supporter, even when your family wasn’t there for you. 

You turned around to Redlic reluctantly, desperate for some unbiased opinions. “You, what do you think?”

The girl nodded, a big smile across her face as you finally acknowledged her existence. “It’s really good, I like how the first song really sets the tone, but the rest of them are strong even as stand alone releases.”

You groaned, annoyed that the usually bitchy dancer is actually capable of being insightful.

“I told you she’s a sweetheart, you are just being mean for no good reason at this point.” Latrice doted, tending to her beau. You cringed at their exchanging of pecks. 

“Wait-” she skipped the tracks back one by one, counting on her fingers. “Where’s the sixth one?”

She knows you too well, even your little habit of making songs in two sets of trio, six tracks every time. 

Nervously, your eyes glanced past her, avoiding her accusatory gaze. “I didn’t make one this time.”

Latrice squinted at you, “you fucking liar. Did your mom call you again?”

You shook your head as you took another bite of the fried chicken, “nah it’s not that. I’m fine, really.”

With an air of suspicion, Latrice flicked on the light, causing you to squint. You hadn't seen bright light in a couple of days.

“Let me see your wrist,” Latrice demanded. 

You grinned smugly at the brunette, brandishing both arms. “Four years clean bitch. As I said, I’m fine.”

Latrice sighed with relief, although she still felt unsettled by the absence of that one missing track.

She was about to turn off the lights before noticing something on your neck. Then your collarbone. Then your thighs. It was barely noticeable under all those tattoos, and most would’ve missed it in your dim studio. But not Latrice, not when she was there for most of the inks you’ve tattooed on yourself. 

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, realization settling in. “ARE THOSE FUCKING HICKEYS?” 

Busted, you tried to shrug it off. “I told you I don't want to hear about it,” you tried to play it cool and nonchalant, which is surprisingly easy when you naturally have an unreadable expression. 

The excited buzz had drawn Redlic closer too, inspecting the marks littering your skin. “Holy shit were you attacked by a horde of leeches?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and frankly, incredibly impressed by whoever was able to brand the ice queen.

“Nothing?” Latrice scoffed, “you haven’t been out of this room in two days and you still looked like this, who the FUCK did this?”

Redlic’s eyes widen in realization, as she had the least to drink that night before their little scheme to break you and Latrice apart. “No she didn’t,” a hand clasped onto her mouth, “I’ve never even seen Redy looking this bad.”

Latrice snapped her head around, “Redy?” She turned back to you, mouth agape. “BADA?!”

Still trying to evade Latrice’s penetrating gaze, you nervously tugged a loose strand of hair behind your flushed ear.

“Are you BLUSHING?!” Latrice’s eyes bulged out of her face. The last time she’s seen you like this would be the first time you watched a Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj performance. “Who are you?!”

Though the cat is now out of the bag, you’re secretly glad that Latrice’s attention had been drawn away from the mysterious sixth song you intended to save for yourself (and a certain someone). 

“We were drunk,” you sheepishly explained, writing off that night as a mere escapade. 

Latrice tutted and took a step closer, “it’s been what, twice since you’ve met her and you’ve already pounced on her like a cougar in heat-”

You raised a pointer finger at her accusation, “technically I’m younger.”

“Technically you’re a whore,” Latrice rolled her eyes at your pathetic defense, “oh god - if you look like this, how the hell is she supposed to be camera ready for the Battle Performance?”

“She’s fine,” you reassured your friend, “I have self control.”

Latrice queried an eyebrow as she scanned over your shoulders, “right, self control. After meeting the girl only twice-”

“Thrice”

“Babe,” Redlic broke the bickering between you two, pointing at the corner to an oddly memorable black and white jacket. 

“Not now,” Latrice tried to wave off the sidetracking before her gaze flickered to what Redlic was pointing, jaw dropping in recognition. “You even took her jacket? Oh god what have you done to that poor girl.”

Your buzzing phone saved you from the interrogation. You flicked the duo a bird before walking out to the balcony to take the call. “Hey lovely, miss me already?”

There was a long silence before Bada managed to choke out a few words.

“Was that us?”

You chuckled at the obvious, nodding before realizing that she can’t see you, letting out a hum. “Told you I’m making a track for you.”

Bada screamed into her pillow when she heard the intro. She knew she consented to this, but actually hearing it turned her knees to jelly and her brain to mush.

The intro to the soft R&B track had a soft breathing layered on top, to which Bada immediately recognised as her own. The low trance coupled with your own whimpering set as ad-lib was almost too much to handle, and she barely made it to the chorus. 

“Is it too much?” Noticing her silence, you tentatively checked in on her. 

“N-no,” she quickly interjected, embarrassed by how breathless she sounded. She took a moment composing herself, “can we finish listening to the song together? At mine?”

“I’m on my way.”

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight