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eds-gryff · 1 year

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Letters and Lust

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Requested by @potatosdragon (hope it’s to your liking!)

‘Hi again,

I really liked the writing you made with my idea, and I just thought of another one and had to send it to you.

So it's Edmund Pevensie again

And the reader has been sent to a boarding school so the writing would be letters sent between the reader and ed. Maybe he sends her a scandalous one and the teachers find it.

It might be a bit vague so I would totally understand if you don't want to write it but I just needed to see if you would.

Thank you so much’

Y/N- Your Name

L/N- Last Name

Y/H- Your Hometown/Home-Country

Y/n/N- Your Nickname

There is no mention of Narnia, so the fic can either be taken as taking place in a non-Narnia world, or just that the sex and the letters are more important than ruminating on the left-behind fantasy world 🤷‍♀️

Warning : smut, explicit language, charming-and-sweet-boyfriend!Edmund

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Mareafe Academy

6th September, 1944

Dearest Edmund,

I have literally just sat down on the bed in my dormitory, and the FIRST thing I did was pull out a piece of paper and a pen so I could write to you. And, alright, perhaps I also arranged my novels in the little bedside table I have.

I’m early, and my dorm-mates haven’t arrived yet, so I can write in peace and solitude, too- shucks, I won’t be having much of that anymore, will I? It hasn’t even been twenty minutes in the boarding school yet, but I already really miss day school. However DO you manage at boarding school??? And you’ve been studying at one since you were eleven!

I miss you, Ed. I miss your freckles. I miss you holding my hand. I miss zoning out of the conversation when you talk about chess. I miss you not even realising that I’ve zoned out.

I wish my parents weren’t going away to Y/H for the rest of the year- yes, I will miss them, too- and I wish that St. Finbar’s had a vacancy so I could have attended then, because I would have been close to you throughout the year then. I really thought that’s how it would happen- that once school started again, you’d be going to Hendon, and I’d be going to St. Finbar’s, and we’d be close-by, like always. I mean, the last couple of years, we were together all the time, because the war had closed the schools down.

I love you. Chess-obsessed idiot you are, but I love you so much. Alright, you’re not an idiot, you’re the smartest person I know, but still. Your cheeks get so red when I call you an idiot.

I have to go, I can hear footsteps coming to this room. You know what that means- people. Ugh. I do not like people.

I’ll post this when I get time, and you BEST write me back as soon as possible! Bye-bye, darling.

Love, Y/N

Y/N stared at the letter after she capped her pen, and continued staring at it even as the noise of chattering and laughter filled the room.

She finally stopped staring once one of the girls approached the bed she was sitting on, with a welcoming smile- probably one of the old students- and she put down the letter. As she sat up and readied herself to stand up, and- regrettably- socialise, her eyes fell on the letter one last time.

‘Dearest Edmund’ were the two words she managed to read, and she smiled to herself.

The day after that, Y/N hurried to the telephone room during the break, after the classes of the day and before the prep-time of the evening. Her hurrying was because the monitor of her form had come by her solitary armchair, where she’d been reading the newest Nancy Drew, and informed her that her mother was calling.

“Hello, M-?”

“Don’t finish the word, darling, I’m not your Mum.” Came the lovely voice of her even lovelier boyfriend, Edmund Pevensie. “Did I get the routine right? It’s your break now, yeah?”

“Yes- it is-” Y/N had sent him her class-routine along with the letter, “but- I thought- the monitor said that-”

“Oh, I just put Susan on the telephone for that.” He chuckled. “She sounds very much like a priggish old lady.”

Y/N snorted, after which he continued, sounding a bit nervous, “Wasn’t sure how receptive a teacher or monitor would be to a young man calling and asking for the prettiest person in school.”

Her cheeks were already scarlet, “Ed, you haven’t even seen the others in the school.”

“And I don’t need to.”

“You charmer, you.” Y/N spoke, toying the telephone wire around her fingers. Then her voice softened, dropping to a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice softened, as well, and she could imagine the tenderness in his chocolate brown perfectly. “I miss you, Y/n/N.”

“Me too- and the fact that I probably won’t see you until Easter break-” her parents would be returning to Finchley then, “which is SEVEN MONTHS FROM NOW, is just torture.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The moment I’ve enough money, I’m coming up there and we’re spending the weekend at some cosy inn.”

Her blush deepened, and- oh, how she wanted to kiss him. And more. Oh, she truly wanted that inn-weekend immediately.

Still, she spoke teasingly, “I think the Headmistress might have some problems with you whisking away one of her students for the entire weekend.”

“What can educational administrators or institutions do when it comes to true love?” Edmund spoke dramatically to his girlfriend, and Y/N- giggling again- could visualise him having his hand on his heart. “Oh, I did love the birthday gift by the way, my last suspenders were hand-me-downs. But why-”

“Because-” Y/N’s voice lowered again, but it wasn’t so much as it was sultry, “I like to hold them and tug at them when I’m on top of you, and honestly, with the state the last ones were in, I was afraid they’d tear the moment I touched them.”

She glanced at the door of the tiny telephone room, just to make sure there was privacy- before turning back to the telephone.

“And- your suspenders aren’t the only thing I want to tear off you, you know.”

She heard a gulp on the other end, and then Edmund’s hoarse voice speak, “What I would give to be back to the ninth of August- and the twelfth- and the sixteenth- and the twenty-third- and the twenty-fifth- and the twenty-sixth- and the thirty-first- and the first two days of September.”

Visions of Edmund, his pale, freckled body under her, on top of her, beside her, kissing her, touching her, licking her, fucking her- made their way immediately into Y/N’s mind, and she clenched the telephone receiver tight.

They weren’t visions, they were memories, and she pushed her legs pressed together.

“I can’t believe you remember all the days.”

“I can’t believe we had less than a month of it.” He whispered back, huskily, and Y/N licked her lips. “Oh, Y/n/N-”

“If you keep calling me that, I will run back to Finchley and have-” oh, she couldn’t say the word, she didn’t know if the walls were soundproof!, “and read with you in front of your entire family.”

“Read?” Oh, she just knew that Edmund was smirking. “Read what?”

“Everything you can imagine.” Oh, she could be husky and seductive, too! “Everything you want.”

“Everything we want.” He corrected immediately, and Y/N could no longer ignore how wet she was. “I- oh, goodness gracious, I need to have a cold shower now.”

“I need to have you, but I’ll have to settle for a shower, too.” She just hoped none of her dorm-mates asked why she was having a shower at such an odd time. “I should go, prep-time is about to start. Call me earlier next time, my love.”

“Okay, will do.” Edmund promised. He’d call her all the time- it was the only way for her to be in his life for the next seven months. Well, that, and letters. Yes, letters... He could make good use of those, too. He really would miss his girlfriend terribly. “I love you, Y/n/N.”

Y/N sighed, and rested her head against the wall- wishing it was her boyfriend’s shoulder instead. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she missed her family- missed home- she had to miss the love of her life, too.

“And I love you, Edmund.”

Edmund was not at school. He was grateful for that- though, not as much as Peter or Susan were, and more than Lucy was- for he quite enjoyed the time at home, with his family. He didn’t mind school, generally, for he liked to read, and learn, and he did well in tests- but who could pick school over home?

Certainly not he.

Regardless of his gratitude for not being at school, he did regret that he was at home- because of Y/N. It was entirely unjust that she was stuck there, in some boarding school she had never been to, with her family travelling away for some urgent emergency, away from her home, whilst he was at home and with his family.

He wished he could go to her- he badly wanted to see her, be with her. Just for half a day, even. He was intending to, and had even started planning to go there for Christmas, but his parents had informed them that their grandparents were coming to stay Christmas week- which effectively poured water on his half-formed plans.

All they had now was letters. Not even telephone calls- at least for the present, for the old telephones had been removed, and new ones were being put in, and Y/N had said that she didn’t know how long it would take in her last letter. There was only one working telephone in the entire school, the Headmistress’s, and, as his dear girlfriend had said, “I don’t think she’ll be very keen to let me use it so I can hear sweet nothings from my boyfriend.”

Edmund was making the most of the letters.

Several of the ones he’d written were humorous- even if he did say so himself, droll, and loving, chronicling the things that had been happening at home and with him, as well as asking Y/N what was happening with her and showing sympathy for her ‘incarceration’ (as she put it in one of her letters) in school.

My cousin, Eustace, came over with his parents for Dad’s birthday. You’ve met him, the shrill kid with the eyebrows, and the terrible name- Eustace Clarence Scrubb? Anyway, they were to stay the entire weekend, which everyone- including them- were very annoyed about, but we all had decided to take it as much in stride as possible. But Eustace is just so annoying, and he was driving us four MAD the entire day- to show how much, even LUCY asked for him to shut up. Well, she said ‘please, be quiet, I have a headache’, but that’s ‘shut the bloody hell up!’ for her.

At any rate, he was driving us crazy. I told you he has a fixation with entomology- insects- and he brought his whole kit and collection of insects with him. Can’t part with it, apparently, since he’s observing some live specimens to note down some specifics about them that he feels the entomology books got wrong.

We (Peter and I, since Eustace is sharing our room) let those live specimens free. Freedom is extremely important, I know you agree, my darling.

In the morning, Susan- with such a smile on her face she resembled the Cheshire Cat- said that Eustace had demanded to go home, and so our aunt, uncle, and cousin were to leave for Cambridge after lunch by train.

And it’s only Saturday! HA.

It is unfair, Y/n/N, far too unfair that you’re in school, while most of the country isn’t! It should be a law that each educational institution should open and close at the exact same times, and that there should be the same number of hols- otherwise, it’s just bloody unjust. If I wasn’t already sure that I want to be a lawyer, this would have made it CERTAIN for me.

You deserve better, my love. Especially since you hate school so much. If I could swap places with you, I would. I’d look very pretty in a skirt and your school’s uniform, don’t you think?

Did you read the new Hardy Boys? The Melted Coins? Frankly, I’ve been enjoying Nancy Drew more than the last couple of Hardy Boys- is just me? I prefer mysteries related not to treasure nowadays, I feel. Buried treasure just feels far too overused.

But several were- they were not humorous and sympathetic and bibliophilic as much as they were libidinous.

Edmund wrote those letters late at night, when his brother was fast asleep and snoring. He was a night owl, thankfully- though, not as much as Y/N, whose sleeping schedule was more vampiric than human. He’d write the letters, burning the midnight oil, blush quite brilliantly at the contents of what he’d written as well as the images of his beautiful girl from that his mind came up with, and then he would go and post the letters the next morning.

Darling, you know I think a lot, but you know what I think the most about?

You. Always you. Your smile, your eyes, your eyebrows, the nose I love to kiss, the curve of your lips, and your hips. How I hold them when you take me inside you. The way your eyes flutter when I flick your nipples, how your mouth opens whenever I lick at your sex.

How incandescent you look during and after sex, on top of me or under, your body pressed hard against me. How your lips call my name, how my name sounds in your voice. We had so few moments where we could do all that- but we really made the most of it, and I’m endlessly grateful. And we’ll see each other very soon, and I SWEAR all our fantasies will be indulged.

You make me tremble, and you leave me breathless, especially when I look at your face flushed with ecstasy and when I hold you in my arms while making love. And I love you so much in those moments, as I love you in every moment I live.

I miss your tits. Your lovely, large, lovely tits. I miss how you giggled when I kissed them. I miss all of you.

Do you know I have to keep taking showers more than once every day? Every time I think of you, I just get so hard and I need to get myself off, after which I need to clean up- consequently showers.

Your last letter, about the- about the swimsuit and the swimming exhibitionism thing- I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard from getting myself off. If it’s your hands or mouth, yes, but not from my own hands.

I want that, too. You know that. I want all of that, so BADLY. Sometimes I’ll wander down some alleyways, the ones that are shortcuts, and I’ll think of pushing you against a wall and fucking you then and there. I think of you wearing those sexy knee-socks as you spread yourself on the bed. I’ll think of how bright your eyes get when I enter you, and-

Fuck, I’m hard again. Bloody hell, Y/n/N, I’ve already showered twice today! I’m going to die of a cold, at this rate.

Chocolate is my favourite taste. I adore chocolate, and I’d probably eat the floor if it was made of it. I mean, no offence to those five kids, but I should have gotten a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

But I adore tasting you, too. I love you writhing under me, as I kiss along your thighs, and I love you pulling my hair when I finally have my tongue inside you. I adore everything about you, every single thing- but, gosh, your taste. You taste like oranges, and I drink your essence like I’ve been thirsty for centuries. I’m a rational person, easily the wisest in my family- not that that’s a difficult achievement- but you, Y/n/N, you drive me wild.

I want you to fuck me. I want you kneeling in front of me, your mouth around me, sucking me harder and faster. I want you to make me moan your name over and over and over until you unravel me completely. I want to give you hickeys everywhere. I want to be yours. I want to be inside you again. I want you.

Y/N’s replies would come the very next day, and he would lock himself in the bathroom whenever he read them.

Her replies were even more explicit and- as she had herself said in a telephone call- more unhinged than his.

Every night before I sleep, I masturbate. I close my eyes, fix my blanket, and then I touch myself. I touch myself, and I think of how you hold me. I touch myself, and I think how you kiss me. I touch myself, and I think of how you lick my breasts, how you suck at my clit. I touch myself, and my body shakes, and I think of how you fuck me. I come, somehow, my hips lifting, and I think of you and only you, my dearest.

Then I go to the bathroom to pee and wash my hands, and then, just as I’m about to fall asleep, I think of you again.

I turn, shoving my face into my pillow, and I fuck myself again, all the while wishing it was your fingers and your mouth and your cock inside me instead.

I drew you naked in class today. I spent a lot of time on your fingers. And your freckles. I really, truly, madly love your freckles. I love that I’ve kissed all of them, all over your body. Even the ones on your cock. I love them. I love you.

Was down swimming today- it’s cold weather usually, but somehow it was pretty warm today. I was really glad, and the MOMENT we finished breakfast, I ran to get my swimsuit and went to the pool. I mean, I didn’t run, I definitely never run, but I did walk very fast.

So I went to the pool, wearing my swimsuit and a bathrobe over it, and as I was taking it off, I wished you were there. I wanted you to watch me. I wanted to take off my robe, and my swimsuit, and I wanted you to see me, your pretty eyes going dark as I get naked. And I wanted you to take off whatever you were wearing, too- hopefully suspenders. I love you wearing suspenders, and I love to drag them off you. Obviously, I’d be watching you as well, because how can I ever NOT look at you?

And then I wanted to make love with you then and there. Outside, in public, uncaring of whether anyone could see. I still want it.

Writing this down, I’m throbbing again. I can smell how wet I am, goodness.

I might kill someone if I don’t get you inside my cunt right NOW.

P.S. (adding this in the morning), I didn’t kill anyone. A lot of people at school make me murderous, but I’ve had self-control so far.

I have, however, put a photograph of myself in this letter, one that I’m sure you’ll like. I’m not as adept a photographer as you- you know how much I fidget- but, again, I think you’ll like it. And I hope, love, that you’ll send me one in reply, too- only if you want to.

I love you. And enjoy my tits. Let me know what effect they have on you.

“Post’s here early!” One of Y/N’s classmates called out- she had just stood up to leave the Dining Hall, and had seen the postman walk across the doorway at the far end of it. “Oh, hope Mum got me the hair-band I fancied!”

As her friend pulled her down to the seat, teasing her in whispers that she needed a few dozen hair-bands to keep her flyaway hair in control, Y/N stood up.

She never ate much in the mornings, anyway- if it wasn’t compulsory, she would absolutely have skipped breakfast every day, waking up exactly six minutes before classes started. And now that mail was here early, she would go and see if she had letters- she usually had one from Edmund every other day, and one from her family every week, as well as occasional letters from some other friends she had left behind. There were, though, also many days that she did not have letters.

Today was not one of those days.

Recognising Edmund’s signature on the back of the envelope, Y/N snatched it from the tray of letters, and grinned hugely. She grinned so widely, in fact, that a group of first-formers heading her way saw her and ran away in the opposite direction.

She usually opened letters from her darling boyfriend in private, since their letters were private, and- more often than not- intimate. Today, though, she lacked the patience and ripped it open as soon as she reached the- thankfully empty, since most of the school was still at breakfast- entrance hall of Mareafe Academy.

Her fingers felt the texture of the letter’s paper- but along with it, they felt a much smoother, cooler surface. She pulled both out immediately- she was a curious creature, and then Y/N almost dropped the envelope.

She wasn’t just curious. She was forgetful as well, and she’d forgotten what she’d sent along with her last letter. And that she’d added a request, of sorts, for a similar response.

And she had got it.

It was a photograph of Edmund. He’d clearly taken it himself, from the angle- and another, far more clearer thing, was that he was naked. He was utterly, completely naked, from head to thigh- that was as much was there in the picture. Oh, and his thighs- what lay in between them- Y/N licked her lips.

Almost immediately, she bit her bottom lip to keep from accidentally moaning, and then Y/N hurried to the staircase that led up to the dormitories to sit down on the fifth step. Setting down the letter and the envelope on the sixth step- yes, yes, she would read it in a second, she desperately wanted to read what Edmund wrote, but she just needed to admire the gorgeous being that the love of her life was- she looked at the photograph even longer. Her eyes danced around to his pale and lithe form, to the flat of his abs that she’d press her palms against sometimes, to different spots of him she’d sucked, to all the starry freckles she had kissed, to his lovely lips that gave her kisses that brought her both calm and passion, and to all the parts of him that she adored.

She would absolutely be missing her first class, so she could take advantage of an empty dormitory- she would look at the photograph, and then she would mas-

“Child, is this yours?” Came a voice- and then, immediately, a hand bent down to pick up the letter and the envelope carelessly left on the stair.

Y/N turned, in panic and horror and so many other unpleasant, cardiac-arrest-reminiscent symptoms- but the damage was done. The form-mistress for the first form, as well as the House-Mistress for the school House she was in, Ms. Potts, had her hands on her letter.

And her eyes were on the letter- growing wider and wider and wider and wider with every passing second.

“What,” Ms. Potts said, her lips pursed so tightly together they seemed conjoined, and her fair cheeks turning a blotchy red, “is this abhorrent, shocking, and vile thing sent to you?”

Oh, Heavens. Had Edmund written about how much he liked to have her sit stop his face? Or perhaps some details about how she sucked his cock.

Y/N did not say anything, because she felt petrified. Mortified. She had wished for death before, but she didn’t think she’d ever wished it quite so keenly and desperately. She’d take anything! Couldn’t those air raids start again!? Just for the day?!

There used to be a chandelier in the entrance hall- it had been removed as the war had begun. She wished it was still there, so it could fall on her.

Ms. Potts shook in rage for a few more moments, apparently as unable as Y/N was of coherent speak- before spotting something in the student’s hand.

“What is that?” She asked, her gaze fixed on the photograph of Edmund. “Was that with his letter?”

“No.” The lie was immediate, and convincing. Talking, she was not very good at, but lie she could very well. “It’s a photograph of- of the tulip-bushes at our house in Finchley, ma’am. My parents asked a neighbour with green thumbs to look after the bushes, so they’ve bloomed again despite the house being empty-”

“Is that so?” The teacher cut off the narration, looking unimpressed. At least the splotches of red were lessening now, Y/N thought. “Let me see it, then, give it-”

“No!” Oh, she could have her letter, but she would not give away a photograph of Edmund naked! He’d trusted her with it, and she would DIE before letting a stranger see it. No one ever deserved to have their personal anecdotes or their personal photographs or documents be circulated to or by those who were never intended to see them. “Sorry, Ms. Potts, but it’s my photograph.”

“Hm, of course. Privacy is important.” Ms. Potts nodded, seemingly backing down. “But so is decency, Ms. L/N, and the things written in this letter-”

“I haven’t read the letter, ma’am.” Y/N said, because what else could she say? She didn’t know! She still felt like she was having a heart attack, and she was anxious about whether the hospital- oh, anxiety. She felt anxiety, and if Ms. Potts didn’t give her back her belongings, she may devolve into a full-blown panic attack. “I don’t know what it says. I’m not even sure whom it’s from-”

“Says it is from ‘your devoted and dearest Edmund’.” Her lip curled, and Y/N couldn’t be sure if that was a hint of humour or hatred. She could be sure, though, that she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Or at least transport her to somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was preferably known as ’Edmund’s arms’. “I thought such adoring signatures died out after the Georgian era.”

“I always thought that such signatures existed only in books.” The girl gave a shrug- not a nonchalant one, though that was the effect she was trying to convey. “Maybe- maybe that’s what this is, Ms. Potts, someone having transcribed a letter from a novel and sent it to me-”

“Admirable attempt at lying, L/N, but the lie only makes things worse. Mareafe Academy does not condone lying, cheating, or-” Ms. Potts looked down at the letter again, and the splotches reappeared, “such disgusting sentiments being written to the young women of tomorrow!”

“Oh, but- but, Ms. Potts-”

Why wasn’t there a dragon here? Either she could ride away on it, or it could eat her. Either way, her problem would be solved

Oh, she so hated to exist in a world of reality.

“And, according to devoted and dearest Edmund,” The teacher’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and it didn’t sound nearly as attractive as Edmund’s sarcasm did, “you were the one who asked to be sent such uncouth correspondence.”

Well, what was she to do now? Throw Edmund under the bus and keep him safe, or tell the truth and secure expulsion?

She couldn’t do either of that. She would protect Edmund and she would make sure her parents did not have to feel the shame of a child expelled from school.

What excuse could she give...

“I’m a writer.” Y/N said suddenly, before glancing down at the letter again- as soon as Ms. Potts lost focus on it, she’d grab it back. “I asked a friend of mine to help me with certain- salacious parts of the novel I’m working.”

Ms. Potts gave her a look, “Are you planning to become the female D. H. Lawrence, Ms. L/N? Need I remind you, most of his books were banned because of their- their inappropriate content.”

“And now he’s one of the most famous writers of the century.” Y/N pointed out. “I- I think that counts as a win.”

Ms. Potts rolled her eyes, “Would you like me to take this letter to the Headmistress? Perhaps she’ll motivate you with suspension to show her the photograph-”

“No!” She burst out again, shifting her weight from one leg to another, that was how nervous she was. She kept teetering-tottering. Edmund’s photograph would ensure expulsion.

Oh, why was this happening!? Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d had to wake up early for breakfast- even earlier than usual, because her dorm-mate had pulled the curtains back to let in the rare sunshine!? Waking up was awful enough!

“No- please, Ms. Potts, I don’t- I’m so- I’m sorry. I- promise that- that I won’t ask for such-” loving, “vile letters anymore. Please, I’m so very sorry, ma’am-”

“Alright, child. Calm yourself.” She sighed. Generally, she would have taken the student and the letter to the Headmistress, for its contents were that questionable- but she had a soft heart when she hadn’t had her morning coffee. And- well, she knew the girl was having a hard time with her parents so far away, and- and, between the inappropriate things, she could read the love that seeped out from every word. Edmund truly loved Y/N, despite the disgusting things he did to her and she did to him. “No supper for you for the rest of the week, L/N. Your suppertime will be devoted to extra prep time, and you’ll have two slices of toast and a glass of water before you head to bed.”

“Okay.”

At least it wasn’t expulsion- and she’d just spend the prep time daydreaming about Edmund. About the food, though- she usually was very hungry at dinner, but she’d have to make do.

“Thank you so much, ma’am- and, again, I- I am so- so sorry.”

“Hmph.” She made a sound to acknowledge the apology, and then held out the letter. “I’ll be reading the rest of your letters from this Edmund from now on.”

She nodded quickly.

“Now go put it somewhere private, I will come check in five-” after she had her coffee, “and for the Lord’s sake, get to class on time!”

She nodded again, grabbing the letter and the envelope, before running straight to her thankfully empty dormitory.

She had intended on locking the door, undressing- at least part-way- and then fingering herself until she came, while looking at Edmund’s photograph and/or reading his letter.

Y/N still wanted to do that, she thought, as she sank onto her bed. She wanted to do it even more, in fact, because now she had his letter, and she was reading all the beautifully dirty things Edmund wanted her to do to him or wanted to do to her- but she would refrain. Her sex was throbbing and her mouth was dry, but Ms. Potts would be up any second, and if she walked in on her masturbating- well, there would be no hope for her at ALL then.

For once, she would have self-control when it came to Edmund.

“Oh, darling.” She said, falling back on the bed and letting out a very long sigh. She wanted to go back to sleep. “Our fucking has fucked things up.”

Two months later:

“Yes, fuck, ah-ah, yes-” Y/N moaned, one of her hands gripping the bark of the tree she was pressed up against, while the other fisted itself firmly into Edmund’s hair, pushing his head further between her thighs.

They were in a clearing in the woods behind school- not too far in that they’d get lost, and yet not too near the entrance that they’d be seen by someone from her school. It was parents’ weekend- and, in place of her parents, Edmund had come to visit. Ms. Potts had enquired if she would be alone the weekend, and Y/N had lied that her uncle and aunt would be coming to take her for the two days- and the moment that Ms. Potts had turned around, she’d grabbed her little case and run outside. Thankfully, in all the crowd of cars and people outside the school, no one had noticed that the person she was hugging was a boy her own age, or that the hug was decidedly not platonic.

After they’d escaped the school, Y/N had said something that they couldn’t enjoy themselves in a pool- sand then Edmund had completed her sentence by saying that at least they could have some pretty good fun in the woods.

Edmund had taken up a paper route the last few months, and had done some odd jobs around the neighbourhood- and Y/N had made some money by tutoring some first-years, too. She’d begun the tutoring as a way to lessen Potts’s suspicion- but it had had a monetary advantage, too. Pooling their money together, they’d managed to afford one night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast, and they had both been so excited, Edmund had got on the wrong train- he’d realised just before it had started- and Y/N had buttered her hair, instead of her toast.

Edmund dug his fingers into her leg that was thrown over his shoulders, his tongue licking a path along her sex, and he felt a deep tightening in the pit of his stomach. He was already pleasured and sated- the moment he had arrived at the school gate, and had seen her run towards him, after which she’d thrown her arms around him, he’d been utterly content. He was even more so now. He had missed her so much.

He reached up blindly- but he was so familiar with her body, that he found her bare breast at the first try, cupping it hard as he began to suck at her clit.

“Come on, Y/n/N. Say my name.” Edmund grinned wolfishly, as a muffled sigh left her lips. “Moan if you missed me, darling.”

And she did.

This was exactly- exactly- what she needed. What both of them did. What they’d needed and wanted for so long. How utterly she had missed him.

And, considering that they’d only had sex for about ten days back in August, it was truly astonishing how well he knew her body. He really was a fast learner.

He knew it so well that she just could not keep her mouth shut, though she knew she couldn’t be too loud, “Fuck, Edmund-”

Then his fingers joined, too, inching closer to her clit, making her gasp and shiver and doubling the building ecstasy.

Needless to say, it took hardly a couple of minutes for Y/N to reach her zenith, her body relaxing as she came.

“No, no, no.” She said, a moment after her breathing eased- Edmund was looking around for their long-discarded shirts, his suspenders (which looked even sexier than usual, perhaps because she was seeing him for the first time in months), and her skirt.

Her boyfriend looked at her inquiringly- good Heavens, he was licking his lips, she might orgasm just looking at that.

She pulled her knickers up and debated on putting on her bra- she was trying to wear them more often, despite how much she disliked them, because she’d heard a sixth-former whisper in the pool that wearing bras helped with back pain.

And she had a lot of back pain.

But she decided against it. A few more minutes wouldn’t make her back hurt even more.

“Come a little closer?”

Edmund obeyed, but still looked blank. He was perfectly content to just look at her- after months of just letters, most of which had been censored and sanitised after a point- he just wanted to gaze at her.

“Why, Y/n/N?” He asked, and was answered by Y/N kneeling, pulling his trousers down, and wrapping her mouth around him in one fluid moment. He started violently, quite staggered by the action, and drew a sharp gasp of a breath. “G-give a fellow some warning, darling.”

“As though you didn’t know-” She pulled away from his cock for just a moment to smile at him- going down on her had hardened him, which meant he was already close, “that I wouldn’t let you go without returning the favour. It’s been too long, love.”

“I- forgot.” His lashes fluttered, his breath coming in short bursts as she started to take him in her mouth again, her head bobbing up and down between his legs. “S- ach, Y/n/N-” she sped up the work of her tongue- harder, faster- and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to hold back a moan, “silly me.”

She sucked for a few, slow moments- not enough to make him come, but enough to make him tremble and moan her name- and she could feel herself throb again, because it wasn’t inside her mouth that she needed him.

But she’d contentedly settle for this for the moment- it was Edmund, she liked doing almost everything with him.

Carefully, she pulled her mouth away from him- and asked softly, “Do you like this, my love? Do you like my mouth around you, as I kneel for you? As I put my tongue on your cock?”

Before he could reply, she bent forward again and trailed her lips all over his length, sometimes darting her tongue out to lick a freckle or sensitive spot- and then began to suck once more.

Minutes later, as the birds chirped in the trees, they lay on the warm grass. They held hands as Edmund slid inside Y/N, into the togetherness and oneness they’d had too little of and they had missed for months.

The sun scattered through the canopy of trees, falling onto their bodies, which flushed and naked and tight together. Their lips were pressed together, too.

And when they came together, they whispered both I love you and I missed you.

After that, lying naked on the warm grass and in each other’s arms, they made fun of other people- specifically, teachers- and teased each other- both verbal and sexual, and bantered, all interspersed with a lot of kissing. There was a small picnic basket lying a few feet from them, as well.

It was going to be an amazing weekend.

----

Thank you for reading!

And requests are CLOSED. I have end semester exams in a week, and what have I been doing? Nothing that will help me pass and everything that will make me fail!

#narnia #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #skandar keynes #edmund pevensie x reader #narnia fanfiction #edmund pevensie fanfiction #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund the just #skandar keynes fanfiction #smut #x reader #smut x reader #edmund pevensie smut #1940s #my fics #myfics

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meanbossart · 8 months

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Alright, I am like 90% sure there is ONE line in A Novel Experience touching on Gale GTFOing rapidly, so I don't think there are answers in there for me. So I come to you and ask-WTF went on between Gale and Drow???

Alright, so

There are two versions to what happened to Gale in my first campaign (the OG DU drow campaign that this whole universe is based around), lets begin with the technical version. As I've only somewhat recently come to understand, my Gale was bugged. I had 1 interaction early in the game that slightly veered into romance which didn't go anywhere, and first chance I had I clarified that I was not interested in him that way (the whole reason why It happened in the first place was because i misunderstood his dialogue). Despite this, and despite me turning him down in every romantic interaction following, I kept getting them and my interactions with him were as if we were romantically involved. I even got one exchange (the one about muscles glistening and cheeks flushed) twice, and rejected him both times.

So, later in the game once DU drow and Astarion sucessfully 5d chess-ed their way into falling In love, I was surprised to still be informed i had to "break things off" with Gale if I wanted to get with him. Which I did. And he gave me a whole spiel about it.

Now it's crucial you understand this was early in the game's release, I went into it completely blind and I had never played a game like Baldur's Gate before, so I was not familiar with the mechanics at all, which... Kind of led me to believe Gale was just like that normally.

From that point on I was highly amused, but for roleplaying purposes I decided my drow would have been highly annoyed and a little creeped out. And so I proceeded to be extremely rude to the guy at every chance I got. This eventually resulted In him pursuing the crown of Karsus despite me (rudely) telling him that was a very dumb idea.

The second version of what happened, as I already touched on above a little bit, Is the Narrative one. As I mentioned I had no clue what was and wasn't supposed to happen, so I just... Went along with it within the role-play.

So our beloved DU drow gets worms. He goes on a grand adventure with this weird possy of people to find a cure. When the tiefling party comes everybody except Astarion wants to get into his pants (because I left him on the beach for like a week and then proceeded to be The Rudest to him, sorry babe, I didn't see your pale ass and the asshole dialogue options were Really funny).

Someone else who Didn't seem to wanna fuck him was the wizard. He said he just wanted to show him a magic trick and he (and, I'll admit, me) really thought that was just that. The scene unfolds, Gale tries to teach DU Drow to cast a spell but his 9 intelligence says No. The unsolicited date ends abruptly because Gale is upset that a champion fighter without a single cantrip makes for a shitty wizard. DU Drow thinks thats the end of that - It's Not.

Then what proceeds to happen is a long, annoying, somewhat unsettling dynamic where Gale continually tries to pursue him throughout the game, coming to the point where the guy I'm Actually interested in thinks we are together - and when DU drow tells him verbatim that he had no idea they were even a thing in Gale's mind, he has to hear him whine about it. Add to that the fact that all Gale talks about is his ex-girlfriend, DU drow is (kind of justifiably) led to believe he must be a Profound weirdo to whom he cannot ever say even a Neutral word to again lest he becomes any more infatuated with him - 0r whatever the hell is going on.

Whether it be DU drow's own inflated ego or the actual truth, when Gale begins to pursue the crown he also assumes he's just doing it to spite him - so he isn't the kindest to him about that either.

And within this narrative that I concocted around a simple bug that didn't let me end a romance, I cannot imagine Anyone getting on particularly well with Gale within my main party. Drow thinks he's madly in love with him, Shadowheart is probably a little confused but she trusts DU Drow's word on the matter more than the Wizard's, Astarion thinks... What Astarion thinks.

So, no, they didn't part on the best of terms.

Before anyone gets mad, I assure you - I've completed the game again since then, I realize this is Not the intended Gale experience. He's a hysterical and deeply interesting character and only Slightly clingy and weird.

But, you gotta admit, this is way funnier.

#ask #DU drow #i'm sorry for always weaving such a tale out of these kinds of questions #i like to have fun #bg3 spoilers

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babygirl-diaz · 6 months

Text

For The Hope Of It All

The universe was playing three-dimensional chess with Buck, while Buck was still trying to figure out the rules of checkers and losing miserably. That’s why he was currently nursing the same bottle of beer in his hands like it was a wounded comrade. Figuratively kicking himself in the head wasn’t enough- he should have brought steel-toed boots to this pity party. Not only did he commit a symphony of fouls today while playing basketball, but he also sent Eddie flying through the basketball hoop. Okay, maybe not, but he did cause Eddie to trip and fall. Tripping Tommy, now that was a plan. Tommy was trying to steal Eddie away with his shiny helicopters and even shinier smile. Buck groaned and buried his head in his hands, “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered. “Now Eddie will never ever talk to you again and you will die alone in this loft.”

As Buck continued his one-man comedy show of muttering, groaning, and kicking himself on the head, the doorbell rang. He wasn’t ready to entertain anyone right now so he yelled, “Go away!” at the door.

“Not gonna happen, pal, not until I get a heartfelt apology. A beer. And maybe a foot massage. And hopefully my lost shoe.”

Buck’s heart sank when he realized it was Eddie on the other side of the door. Great. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, the universe played its hand- that was poker not chess, right? With a sigh that could rival the wind, Buck dragged himself out of the chair and went to the door, where he found Eddie giving him an unamused look, that looked like a cross between a disappointed father (a look Buck was very much acquainted with) and a slightly annoyed babysitter.

“H-hey, Eddie,” Buck greeted him with an awkward wave of his hand.

Eddie’s response was nonexistent. Instead, he limped past Buck into the living room. He put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh as Buck slowly closed the door behind him, trying to avoid Eddie’s wrath.

“You’re like a human-size wrecking ball, you know that?” Eddie finally said, turning to glare at Buck.

With a dramatic sigh, Buck made his way over to his friend and stood in front of him. “Look, I’m sorry about what-”

“No, shut up!” Eddie interrupted, holding out up hand like a traffic cop. “I’m gonna do the talking and you’re gonna do the listening.”

Buck could just nod in response. He was going to get hell from Eddie today. He just knew it.

“Right,” Eddie said, nodding in satisfaction. “I’m sorry about today. I know you didn’t mean to trip me up.”

That’s not what Buck was expecting. “Ed-”

“I told you to shut up!” Eddie chastised him again. “But everything you’ve been doing this week-” he paused and shook his head. “-you’re a grown man, Buck, we both are. If you had a problem with me, you should have come to me and talked about it.”

“I didn’t- I don’t have a problem with you.” Buck mustered the courage to retort, despite the death stare Eddie was shooting his way.

“Okay, then what was today about?” Eddie asked.

"Today was the day I discovered my hidden talent for making myself look like a complete idiot,” Buck replied.

Eddie’s features softened and he cracked a small smile. “That you do,” he said jokingly. “But why?”

With a sigh, Buck confessed, "I was jealous."

Eddie seemed taken aback by that. “Jealous? Of what?”

Buck's face twisted into a comical grimace. "Of you and Tommy!"

Eddie gave Buck a bewildered look, his eyebrows creased in confusion. "What? Why?"

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t like you spending time with him,” Buck tried to explain.

Confusion turned to realization as Eddie’s face softened once again. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Buck looked down at his hands and found them far more interesting all of a sudden.

Eddie's voice trembled as he spoke, his hand resting gently on Buck's shoulder. "Evan," he said.. "You are more than my best friend. You are my confidant, the person I trust with my life. When things go to shit, you’re the one I run to for support and when things go right, you’re the first person I want to share it with. Hell, I ‘ve made you the legal guardian of my kid in case something happened to me because I know you will always love him like he was your own." He paused and chased Buck’s eyes to make him look at him. “You’re irreplaceable, Evan. Never doubt that.”

Buck listened intently to Eddie's words. He couldn’t believe it. "Eddie," he began, eager to respond.

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?”

“Maybe you should make me,” Buck challenged him without even thinking about it

Eddie looked visibly taken aback by that and Buck was about to laugh it off but then he decided to be brave.

“What?” Eddie asked

“The real reason I am jealous of Tommy is because I thought he might whisk you away and I may never get to tell you what I really felt about you.”

With a gulp, Eddie's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. “What- what do you feel about me?”.

With a simple phrase, Buck professed his love: "I love you."

Eddie's breath audibly caught in his throat, he removed his hand from Buck’s shoulder, and his expression indicated that he was mentally processing what Buck had just said. “Y- you love me?”

Buck immediately missed his touch and looked down at his own hands, “I do.”

“Since when?”

Buck’s head snapped up and he said, “Since the time you told me I could have your back any day.”

“That was when we first met…” Eddie pointed out like he couldn’t quite believe what Buck was saying.

Buck affirmed with a nod. “It was. I’ve been in love with you since.”

Buck felt a pang of longing when Eddie retreated from him. Eddie rubbed his face, a contemplative expression crossed his features, “I don’t know what to make of that, Buck.”

“You don’t have to make anything of it,” Buck assured him, although his heart was breaking. “You could just ignore what I said and we could go on pretending that I never said that.”

Eddie nodded and said nothing. He took another step back before turning on his heel to leave.

Buck wanted to let out an agonizing cry. He didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe he thought they would have a chance. But he was oh so wrong.

“See you around, Eddie,” Buck said after him, his voice tinged with sorrow.

In a sudden shift, Eddie halted. Buck heard him take a deep breath before he returned. This time with determination written all over his face, which Buck initially interpreted as a sign of an imminent punch. But much to his surprise, Eddie grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward, initiating a passionate kiss. Buck let out a surprised sound and kissed Eddie back. The kiss turned heated pretty quick and Buck slipped his tongue inside Eddie’s mouth and mapped it out. He kept walking Eddie backward until Eddie’s back hit the wall. As they kissed, Buck's mind raced with conflicting thoughts, oscillating between exhilaration ("Holy shit, we're kissing!") and apprehension ("Holy shit, he might come to his senses and walk away soon.")

Buck moved away from Eddie’s lips and kissed along his jawline before burying his face into Eddie’s neck. He pulled Eddie close and experimentally thrust against him, causing the other man to moan.

But then the haze lifted and Eddie moaned before gently pushing at Buck’s chest. “Buck, Buck, stop-” he rasped.

Buck stopped and pulled away to look at Eddie. Their foreheads pressed together as he released a series of short, shallow breaths. "I thought you wanted this..."

“I don’t know,” Eddie admitted, clutching onto Buck’s shirt.

Buck nodded and pulled away. “Are you and Marisol still together?” He asked.

“No,” Eddie replied. “We broke up a week ago.”

Buck said nothing to that. He instead turned around to leave.

“Buck?” Eddie called out to him, sounding so vulnerable that it almost broke Buck’s heart.

Buck got to the stairs and turned around to look at Eddie. “If you want you can come upstairs with me,, or the decision is up to you.” He shrugged.

Eddie looked conflicted. He bit his lips and looked between Buck and the door like he was trying to figure out what to do.

When he looked at Buck again, Buck raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

Eddie smiled and rolled his eyes before moving towards the stairs. “I can’t go up there,” he said, pointing at his leg.

Buck got the message and leaned down to pick Eddie up in his arms. Eddie may have let out a little squeak before he wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck. Buck smirked and carefully carried him up the stairs. “What did you even have for lunch?” He teased.

“You’re an asshole,” Eddie told him and rolled his eyes.

***

As the morning sun peeked through the blinds, Buck's eyes fluttered open. He glanced beside him and saw Eddie, sleeping soundly. A tender smile spread across Buck's face as he admired Eddie's peaceful state. He couldn’t believe that the man he loved was finally in his bed. He propped his head up on his hand and took in Eddie’s features. His hair was a mess from where Buck at pulled them the previous night. His lips were swollen from how hard Buck had kissed him. There was a look of contentment on his face with his mouth slightly agape as he snored softly. Buck’s eyes traveled further down to Eddie’s nipples. The nubs were red and swollen from how much attention Buck had given them. If Buck pulled back the sheets, he would probably see how his cum still leaking out of Eddie. They had established that they were both clean and wanted to really go for the title this time.

Don’t be such a creep, Buck. Buck told himself as he continued to admire Eddie. His Eddie.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Eddie’s amused voice brought Buck out of his thoughts. Eddie’s voice was also heavy with sleep which started to get Buck hard all over again.

“I- I kinda was, I guess,” Buck replied and scratched the back of his head.

“Of course you were, creep,” Eddie teased him again and looked over at him. “Like what you see?” His voice turned seductive.

“More than you’ll know,” Buck replied and rolled on top of Eddie, pinning him to the bed again and kissing him.

“You’re making me breakfast after this,” Eddie told him.

“Maybe in an hour… or two,” Buck replied, kissing him again.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 abc #fanfiction #angst #fluff #attempt at humor

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rainintheevening · 4 months

Text

Part I – Part II ... Part XIII – Part XIV

It's like it used to be, between Peter and Edmund, but it's not, because it's better.

When they go out in the woods, Peter loves how Edmund lifts his head, how he walks with his shoulders back, how he slips between trees with a surety that is new, that Peter is certain he has seen before, somewhere else.

They both silently find good solid sticks on that walk, whittle hand grips and hilts, and fall into the circling steps of a dance they fumble through in echoes, echoes that catch them breathing fast, wooden blades in a bind, grinning into each other's faces.

When the Professor tutors the four of them that autumn term, there are moments, the briefest of flashes, where Peter glances over at Edmund's careful writing, or Edmund moves one of his rooks in a particular strike, or he feels the warm weight of Edmund leaning over his shoulder to read something Peter’s holding, and the room blurs between the panelled wood of Kirkley House and the tapestried stone of Cair Paravel, as if some magic still lingers in the air and in his eyes.

Then there's a night when the wireless is all the whispers of his nightmares turned up loud, and Peter starts when Edmund switches it off, looks up blinking into brown eyes darkened with fear.

“Come on,” and Ed's voice quivers a little. “The Professor's got out his gramophone, and the girls want to dance.”

So they dance, Peter and Susan, Edmund and Lucy, and the Professor claps, and asks where they learned that one reel.

“Where do you think, sir?” Edmund says, grinning, and Peter is taking a sharp breath to scold him for his tone when Professor Kirke laughs, so Peter exhales into a laugh of his own.

A week before Christmas, there's a sharp, cold, still day, and Peter rides Fiona the grey mare into the village, taking the post with him, and an order from Mrs. Macready for the butchers with the particulars of the goose they have ordered from the farmer Adams. He's riding slowly down the main street, staring into all the delightfully decorated shop windows, and feeling the chill on his nose, while he thinks about presents. He has Lucy's (a copy of The Lost Prince which he knows she hasn't read yet), and Susan's (some pretty hair pins he'd spotted at the druggist’s), as well as a surprise letter from Dad for all of them but really for Mother (who’s coming out to the country for the holiday, oh joy!), and even a fancy tasselled bookmark for the Professor (that he'd made with the help of Susan and Margie the housemaid). But he doesn’t have anything for Edmund yet.

In the afternoon twilight, under a dull grey sky threatening snow, the lamps are all lit, and their light makes him smile, makes him remember.

A snowy wood. A sword and shield. A bow and a horn. A dagger and a healing cordial. And a brother. They'd been given their brother back.

Narnia. He should give Ed something to remind him of Narnia. Narnia had changed them all, but none more than Edmund.

Father Christmas had given Ed a magnificent chess set the following year, Peter remembers suddenly. But he could never afford something like that here; he has only a little pocket money from Mum, and his small wages from the Professor for being an errand boy and working in the grounds.

On impulse he halts by the warmly lit jumble of window labelled: Bit's and Bob's Curiosity Shop, ties Fee at the rail, her clouded breath warm on his hands. He'd found Lucy's book here, perhaps he can find something else.

He finds it there, dangling over the corner of a shelf, just catching the light so it catches his eye, and he stills, heart leaping in recognition.

A little silver lion pendant about the size of a shilling, strung on what might have been a leather bootlace, and his hand goes out, cups it gently. The metal is warm when it settles in his palm.

Edmund, he thinks, and Peter smiles.

The shopkeeper, a great big man with one hand, squints through his black eyebrows at Peter's find, rumbles, “Five pence, boy, and God’s blessin’ upon ye.”

He bolts back out into the cold, heart singing, paper packet tucked into his coat, and can't resist throwing his arms around Fiona’s neck in a hug. “I found it!” he tells her, as she mildly noses his shoulder. “And I have enough money left over to get him a few sweets.”

Christmas Day dawns a bright pearly grey, with a heavy frost, and the enormous tree glows with many colourful decorations and a few strings of electric lights, when they exchange presents.

Peter is astonished by the first thing Ed hands him: a roughly-bound journal, leather cover hand-tooled with a lion, a unicorn, a sword and shield, a crown. He smooths his thumb over the inscription on the first page: The Personal Record of High King Peter, Wolfsbane, His Memories of Narnia, and Life Thereafter, shuts the cover before anyone else can see.

“I had help,” Edmund says, very quickly. “A lot of it. And it was partly the Professor's idea in the first place. He gave me the paper.”

The colour is high in his cheeks as Peter grins admiringly over at him.

In the hubbub that Mother's presence necessitates, Peter misses Ed’s opening of his small package, but he is on his way up to his room before lunch, when a voice calls, “Peter!”

He's more than a little startled when Edmund throws his arms around Peter's middle, hugging him tightly, and burying his face in Peter's shoulder.

“Ed…”

It's not a question by the time he exhales, instinctively returning the embrace, Ed’s shoulders thin under his arm, but he is warm, quick-breathing, and Peter cups the back of his head with one hand, gives him an extra squeeze.

Ed breaks away before Peter is ready, but he lets his little brother go, knows how much of a gift Ed has already given. They're both trying not to think about Dad, he's sure, both just trying to be there with each other.

There are tears on Edmund’s cheeks, but he lifts his chin, brave-like, looks Peter in the eyes.

“Thanks.” One hand drifts up to his collarbone, and Peter spies a gleam of silver between his fingers.

“For all of it,” he adds.

“Anytime.”

Peter smiles, reaches for the other boy's shoulder, tugging him along as he turns back down the hall.

“Now, come on, we need to get tidied up for lunch. It's Christmas, remember.”

Not the same, no. But maybe better.

#peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #pevensie brothers #narnia fanfiction #my writing #narnia movies #narnia #this one took forever #largely thanks to deciding the presents

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rainmustfallts4 · 11 days

Text

Rain Must Fall (Commentary Ed.) ◇ Episode 32: promised

⊶⊰Information & Index⊱⊷⊶⊰Ep. 1⊱⊷⊶⊰Chronological Tag⊱⊷

─────────────⊶⊰◇⊱⊷─────────────

Since the slumber party failed, I hosted a Weenie Roast? I think that’s the one I picked. I invited everyone over again!

It does look pretty neat to have everyone gathered around the fire like this. Feels like a real friend group c:

“Gather around everyone! I have a spooky tale to share. One upon a time, in a hidden world far away from society, lived a man named Bob. Bob enjoyed his life living alone in the woods, surrounded by fauna and flora. He had an appreciation for life that most people did not. Do you know why?”

The group shook their heads, listening closely.

She paused for a moment, glancing around at the group. “Because he was a zombie! Rah!” She lunged at them, hands held up like a t-rex. Half the group cried out in surprise while the other half laughed at the ridiculousness of the story.

Name a cuter couple. I’ll wait.

They exchanged promise rings ;_;) BRB gonna go cry.

Wooo making some aspiration progress! Not sure why this one worked and the other party didn’t but meh.

Game, are you drunk? We literally just completed a PARTY where one of the main goals is to SOCIALIZE.

To be fair, I’ve gotten this pop up like 5 times lol I think the achievs are broken.

😮 We got a chess table!

I read online that having high logic skill makes you gain other skills faster? I have no idea if that’s true but this chess table is great to have. It also looks pretty cool.

Dude, this kid was being a total bitch. As soon as we got to school, he starting yelling at literally everyone, including the poor old janitor.

“Don’t try me, bro. You can’t tell me anything worse than what I say to myself!” 😉

Oh hell no. No one picks on Jeb without getting chewed out!

He thanked her for standing up for him. I picture Jeb as a cute little outcast Geek that doesn’t really fit in but he’s super sweet and doesn’t cause drama. I must protec.

And there it is, another best friend for the list. I think this is #2?

I have to gain a bunch of followers for the next milestone.

Another level up c: I wonder which skill we’ll max first. I’m not particularly focused on any one skill atm, which may mess me up in the long run, but I’m kind of just making small progress on many at a time.

#commentary: rain must fall #super sim challenge #super sim #100% playthrough #100% challenge #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims #the sims #the sims community #sims 4 community #the sims 4 simblr

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fatuismooches · 2 years

Note

Okay but imagine Dottore observing how each of his segments interact with his fragile lover.

The younger ones act a lot like how he used to when the two had first started dating, still very much in that honeymoon period where the relationship was brand new and so full of possibilities. The older segments still clearly adore them, but are a lot calmer and relaxed around them, just how everything was before their illness came into their lives.

The realization finally hits him while he's playing a game of chess with them, and the small chuckle he let's out takes their attention away from they game and they ask what's on his mind.

"I just now noticed, that no matter what age I am or what point in time I'm at, I'll always love you."

Oh my gosh yes😢😢💖

He says that he made his segments to preserve the perspectives of how he observed the world. So naturally, he'd be mindful of keeping note of how his younger selves differs from his older ones regarding the more serious stuff. He's used to seeing his clones interact with you, after all they're with you a good amount of time considering how busy he is, but one day it really just hits him. His perspective of many things has changed, but his feelings towards you are always the same.

It's rather amusing to see the younger versions of himself talk with you. His Akademiya days were so, so long ago it sometimes takes him back. He was definitely snarky and snippy to you back then, constantly quipping back at you. But as time progressed he mellowed down, reassured by the fact you were genuine. You actually wanted to be with him. And he was comforted by that fact. It opened doors that he previously had absolutely zero intention of going through. He remembers you were excited to go through them with him. Until your illness.

It's unusual for Dottore to get lost in his thoughts, but hearing him say that definitely had you K.O.-ed for the rest of the match. (You try to accuse him of sabotage and he just smirks at you.)

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #currently laying in the dark giggling n kicking my feet instead of doing assignments <33333 #you guys have such good ideas and writing I don't even know what to add sometimes 🥺

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melvisik · 11 months

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OFMD S2 SPOILERS

Everyone's commenting on it, so jumping on board. How this scene is honestly just heartbreaking and gorgeous...

Not sure if it's canonical or not, but in this scene, Izzy and Stede finally seem to get each other - both have had the man they adore slip away from them in pursuit of a life away from pirating. Someone once wrote this about these two (more or less, though not sure where; need to keep better records of sources)... For Izzy and Ed, it seems that ship has sailed. For Stede and Ed, they're like two ships passing in the night with one heading out to sea, the other heading to port. But [maybe] they share the same anchor and they can't be moored without it.

One is at peace with it, and knows that Ed's sense of peace and balance is more important that what he wanted from him. The other proceeds to go into a jealous fit as soon as he sees someone trying to 'steal' his crew. He's already lost Swede and Buttons (whether he acknowledges it or not), and now Ed is gone again. Even when that Knife dude is taken down, he reacts as if he's devastated, like he feels everything is slipping away from him.

Well, at least Izzy is on his side this time...

P.S. One other thing - a request. Please someone make a vid of these two with "I Know Him So Well" from Chess?

Or if someone already has, please share?

youtube

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #edward x stede #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #blackbeard #Youtube #blackbonnet

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everlastiingiimmortals · 11 months

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wishlist — Dynamics I'd like to write [Jing Yuan ed.]

hey ho! Welcome to the first of probably a series of these dynamics posts. As it says in the title, I'm gonna be going over some dynamics I like and briefly touch on why I like them. I do plan on writing at least one for each of my main muses, and I hope that this can help make it easier to reach out to establish dynamics, or to generate ideas for muses I haven't listed here or different perspectives on the ones I've shared.

Of course, OCs and AUs are always welcome! But since those are more specific to each respective mun, I can't list them here. :') (that being said, please approach me!!)

Yingxing/Blade:

I adore all flavors of jingren/jingxing (or however you wanna call it). In the HCQ era, requited. Unrequited. Mutual pining. Madly in love. A platonic rivalry, brothers in arms. I want Jing Yuan still loving Blade, I want Jing Yuan absolutely furious with Blade, I love the awkward mournful tender angle as well as the embittered enemies one. Though I am partial to a romantic angle, I absolutely THRIVE with that love being lost on one or both sides, or with a purely platonic angle, too! No matter what, it's complicated. The messier the better. Between Blade and Jing Yuan, any genuine and mutual romance between them will be difficult for me to write without extensive development in character, because as it stands in canon Blade just wants to cease to exist, and my Jing Yuan just wants nothing more than to put Yingxing's memory to rest for good. They are a tragedy to me of the HIGHEST caliber (not that fluffier dynamics can't happen! They'll just need a LOT of development esp because I struggle with the idea of Blade finding a reason to "live" again).

Dan Feng/Dan Heng:

I adore all flavors of jingfeng/jingheng too, just like with jingren/jingxing! Requited, unrequited, platonic, etc etc. All flavors are good. When it comes to Dan Heng specifically, I especially love that delicate time after their reunion in which they learn to navigate their relationship and what they mean to one another. Whether this is platonic, familial ( @etherealguard <3) , or romantic, I enjoy it a lot. I do think Jing Yuan is more resistant to romantic feelings towards Dan Heng in this time period, as he doesn't want to conflate any residual love he has for Dan Feng with his desire to reconnect with Dan Heng and reassure Dan Heng of his good will. Regardless, it's a messy and complicated relationship at first for sure.

Luocha:

The messier the be-- Can you tell I like complicated relationships ALFDSGHKJ. When it comes to Jing Yuan's dynamic with Luocha, I find their game of chess to be the most fascinating thing. Enemies to lovers is PEAK I've talked and written about them enough ALFSJH YALL HAVE SEEN WHAT I'VE WRITTEN WITH STARRY!!! I will never get tired of jingluo but I like it the most when it is full of trials and tribulations for poor Jing Yuan. A game of cat and mouse. Barely veiled threats while waltzing. Do you get the vibe they are DANGEROUS

Caelus/Stelle:

When it comes to the Trailblazer, what I find the most fascinating to explore is the comparison of power between them and Jing Yuan. I think there's a lot of potential to be had with respect to that, with Stellaron (or Aeon reincarnation in some interps 👀) vs Emanator, whether the Trailblazer can sense that Jing Yuan is far, far more than he makes himself out to be and vice versa! That sense of there being something more under the surface and knowing it is so fun to me. I do prefer a more platonic dynamic for them just due to Jing Yuan being so dad-coded, but nothing is off the table with sufficient development!

Welt:

Two old men! Similarly to the Trailblazer, I love the idea of a dance of knowing that each is far more powerful than they're letting on. Though I imagine that Welt is polite enough to not try to pry, to me his power is nothing short of intriguing to Jing Yuan, who would absolutely try to find out more about him. Platonic or romantic, I think there's a lot of good potential between them.

Himeko:

I blame Koi. Himeko and Jing Yuan are far more similar than I initially thought, they're two sides of the same coin, and I think there's a wonderful amount of potential here between the two of them as beings far more powerful than they are willing to let on, and as two people of genius intellect. To me, they have the potential for a very strong platonic bond, or potentially even a romantic one (it says a lot to me that the first woman that my Jing Yuan has ever had the potential to have romantic feelings for is Himeko ADLKSFHJ) depending on how things develop. Overall, I would LOVE to explore the Jing Yuan and Himeko dynamic more (winks at Koi)

Yukong:

Yukong and Jing Yuan have a lot of similarities to me! A lot of shared, very deep grief that has irrevocably changed the both of them. Even if they don't talk about it, I think this is something that they can mutually acknowledge, and that acknowledgement is something they can find solace in with each other. I've mentioned it in a prior wishlist post but I crave a profound, platonic intimacy between Yukong and Jing Yuan. He loves her, truly and deeply, and he knows her life is coming to an end soon.

Fu Xuan:

I don't have a Fu Xuan to develop with! That needs to change!!! Fu Xuan havers pspspspspss???? The dynamic between Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan is crucial and holds so much potential. While I do prefer them as platonic, jingfu fans I get it I really do the flavor is so good. Regardless of the nature of the relationship, though, there's no doubt that it is fundamentally based on a very deep sense of trust, even with the banter and bickering. It's clear that they very much care about each other regardless of everything.

Yanqing:

Give me all the Yanqings I don't even need to say anything here. Sweet Yanqings, spicy kitten Yanqings, doesn't matter, that is his SON and I will always love writing a dynamic with any son boi. Aside from Mimi, taking in Yanqing and raising him was one of the like. only things Jing Yuan actually did for himself? My Jing Yuan always,, wanted a family. And he never got that chance, not until he found Yanqing. He loves Yanqing with everything he has to offer.

Kafka:

I blame A. The tension, the danger, the wariness yet willingness to collaborate all the same!! Ough. Ough. They're just such a fascinating dynamic, especially in a mara-struck!Jing Yuan context. I'd love to do things outside of that AU as well, though!!

Lan:

I've talked extensively about Jing Yuan's fealty towards Lan and his complicated feelings on the Hunt before. It's something I'd love to develop more. The relationship between an Aeon and their Emanator has a lot of potential for very deep complexity and it's with no uncertainty that I say that Jing Yuan is intrinsically tied to the Hunt for a plethora of reasons. Navigating that power dynamic, the relationship between god and vessel, all of that is very very spicy to me.

Yaoshi:

Talked a lot about this too! I want to write Jing Yuan's acknowledgement of his intrinsic ties to Yaoshi, I want to write his defiance of Yaoshi all the same, I want the tension and the hostility I WANT IT ALL!!!! READ MY AEON ANALYSIS FOR JING YUAN FOR FURTHER DETAILS I JUST WANNA WRITE MESSY DANGEROUS GOD-MORTAL DYNAMICS (potential for Nous and Nanook too gimme gimme)

#//wishing star; (WISHLIST)#//the dozing general; (JING YUAN)#high key i wanna babble about the himeko and jing yuan dynamic that koi and i have been talking abt on main bc its SUBLIME

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ladyelissarose · 2 years

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Part of.. “Living In The Lyrics”

Perfect

Song- ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran

Battinson x reader

Summary: Bruce never knew his childhood friend was after all his soulmate for life. (FLUFFFFF)

I found a love, for me

Darling just dive right in

And follow my lead

Well, I found the girl, beautiful and sweet

I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

In the crisp air of the spring night, while barefooted on the soft green grass Bruce stood face to face with his childhood best friend, Y/n Y/l/n, or who was now, Y/n Wayne. Taking in her beautiful countenance as it glowed with the moonlight shining upon her, he took a deep breath as he lifted a small but loving smile. If he had asked himself as a kid when he met his best friend, that if years later would he marry her, he would’ve said no. For Y/n held a very different personality than from him, she grew up with her father after her mother left them for another man, but either way she was bubbly and happy, always wearing bright colors with her hair bouncing everywhere when she ran around with undeniable joy.

While Bruce on the other hand, after he lost his both parents, he became depressed and a loner, changed his personality drastically to always wanting to be silent and wearing dark colors, it was like a sign saying he was still mourning his loss. He was classmates with Y/n sense kindergarten, they both attended a top notch school, both of their parents were rich of course so they placed their children in the best school with harsh but great education. But after Bruce parents died he insisted that he be homeschooled, he didn’t want to face the public, their questions were overwhelming and the stares bothered him, he also didn’t feel like being surrounded by other kids his age that were loud and annoying to him, he just wanted to be alone with Alfred, his mentor and butler. But nonetheless his best friend always came by his house and helped him out with homework, bringing back and forth his assignments as well. Before the tragedy stroke Bruce and Y/n were always playful and getting into messes at the galas they attend with their parents, but sense Bruce was the Prince of Gotham he never got in trouble for it, and because he was best friends with Y/n, he made sure she was safe with him, and never got scolded either.

Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

Darling just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And I your eyes, you’re holding mine

He had a feeling for her that he didn’t know was actually love, all he knew was that when she was with him he was happy and safe, he trusted her with his whole heart and gave it to no other. He called his strong feelings for her a good friendship, a great friendship actually, because no matter who he was or who she was, Y/n was either way a humbled person and gave a helping hand to those who needed it. She never let her riches and fathers high position in the city go through her head. Y/n always invited Bruce to go with her and they volunteered at shelters and places where they helped the poor, ever sense they were a little kids, being a great demonstration of what a good person is, at least their parents told them so. But as they were growing older Bruce only was in Y/n’s presence when he felt extremely lonely or that he wanted to play chess or something that kept the area quiet but with company, but she either way kept him lively with small talk, refusing to let him drown in his own sorrow. Deep in her heart she had a safe place for him to stay, with hurt and all she stood by his side regardless of the rough times he gave her sometimes when he let his pain get to him. She felt the hit too with Bruce’s parents died, she was close with Martha, Bruce’s mother, only because she didn’t have one herself, she was alone with her father for most of her life growing up. But she refused to compare her pain with his, so when she came around, Y/n made it a point to get him up and moving around, also getting some sun on the few occasions that Gotham wasn’t pouring rain. Or at night she take him around in the garden at the balcony of the Manor as they listened to a soft but favorite melody of theirs, she made sure he was barefooted too, saying that it was good for his feet to feel something other than the shoes and hard floor he walked on daily. But that all came to a stop once they both went to college, Y/n went to Harvard to get a degree in Law, while Bruce went his separate way to study on his own, but his choices of majors were always a mess and he couldn’t make up his mind. So he always took classes here and there, switching them up as he got bored. Their strong friendship tore apart little by little as they lost touch and lived their own lives like if they never knew each other. But that was Bruce’s fault, Y/n always sent him letters and tried to call him, but he left to dust his incoming letters and never picked up the phone, even less when he started the Gotham Project. Keeping up with the crimes in the city as well as his own life made him forget Y/n almost completely. Which soon he regretted, when he felt that he needed her the most on nights that haunted his mind with the past.

Baby, I’m, dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, we’re listening to our favorite song

When you said you looked a mess,

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight

Bruce twirled Y/n around watching her white gown flow in the wind as she wore a happy smile of satisfaction and joy. Her soft and warm hands were soft against his face as she cradled it, with a look of admiration. Seeing her like this reminded him of the night he saw her again, after not seeing her for almost 3 years. It was at a Charity Gala of course, Alfred had insisted he go, saying that making a public appearance was good for him, as well as try to socialize with different people. On the other hand Y/n had just returned from university, and her father welcomed her back with the offer of joining him at the Gala, saying it would be fun and something that wasn’t books and work. So she went after much convincing.

Oddly enough both of them received attention and warm welcomes, but neither felt comfortable or exactly happy, deep in their hearts they knew something was missing, but they didn’t know just what yet. Until the late night drew in as the moon shined brightly in the sky, blending with the Gotham clouds that spread across the sky hiding the stars, Bruce decided he needed a break from the crowd, he was so lost the entire time, stumbling on his words and shying away from the prying paparazzi. He figured that if he escaped to the balcony of the elegant building, he’d be alone. But he was so wrong, someone was already there. He didn’t know who just yet though,

until the suppose stranger turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. At seeing her face Bruce took in a deep breath as his heart squeezed in his chest, he simply breathed out her name,

“Y/n?”

“Bruce!”

Without second though Y/n threw her arms around Bruce’s neck embracing him with all her might, and she mumbled into his ear,

“I missed you.”

Star-struck of her reaction to seeing him again caught Bruce off guard, he thought she was going to storm off and leave him like he did her, but instead she was digging her head into the crook of his neck as she tightened her arms on him, as if she was afraid that if she let go it would all crumble apart or just not be real at all.

Bruce finally wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her slightly off the ground, her backless dress let his hands roam across her bare skin that was soft and warm under his cold and calloused hands. He felt like crying, braking down and just overall confessing how sorry he was, for leaving her to dry and forgetting how she was there for him sense day one, but instead he pulled her away and planted a kiss to the corner of her plump red lips, letting his kiss linger there as he decided what to do next, or what the right thing to say, his hand was holding her waist tightly as the other held her chin up, he then felt him thumb wet where it was resting on her chin and he opened his eyes to see that his best friend was crying, the moon glistened off her wet cheeks as she looked up at him with a hint of pain and hope in her eyes, her voice lowered as she asked,

“Why did you never call back? Or send a letter.. I waited day and night for even the smallest thing.. but I never got a word-“

“i’m so sorry-“

“Bruce Wayne I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you.. why didn’t you call back?”

His gaze left her eyes as it hurt him to see his best friend crying because of him, but he found the true courage that was hidden deep inside his broken heart to confess...

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets,

To carry love, to carry children of our own

“because I’ve loved you all my life.. and still do, because you’re the strongest person I know.. you’ve kept me on my feet, whether it was on the grass at my place or on the wet pavement as we danced in the rain.. but, I never helped you out. Never comforted your pain, I hid away and only took and took from you.. I had to realize that my fear of losing you was really looking like I was using you for your goodness and healed heart. When in reality all I wanted was to be with you forever.. and when you left off college, I figured that by then you had probably found someone else, to be your friend.. and lover. And I couldn’t bare the thought of discovering the fact that maybe you were never coming back home.. coming home to me.. you’re my home Y/n, so yes, I didn’t ever reach you again or called back, because I was scared of what could’ve been the truth, the truth of you moving on.. I know it sounds selfish and stupid. But please don’t doubt my love for you, it’s all I’ll ever be sure off.”

Y/n reached out her hands to grab Bruce’s into hers, she let out a sigh as she leaned her forehead against his his, closing her eyes she confessed,

“Bruce.. I’ve been your friend and lover all my life, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. You’re my home too, we both lost something big in our lives.. and as much as it burned my chest to know that we could never fight to get them back, I had to fight to keep what I still had, which was you. Why do you think I showed up everyday? Everyday, to talk to you, play with you, sing and dance Bruce, oh and for Christ’s sake teach you how to cook, though we ended up almost burning down Alfred’s kitchen.”

That made a short giggle leave Bruce’s lips at the mention of that core memory, that was definitely a story for another time. Y/n opened her eyes and looked at Bruce’s large hands locking in with her fingers as she brushed his knuckles, they were covered in faded bruises, now looking back at him she whispered in his ear,

‘I know your secret.. but it’s been safe with me sense you’ve started.’

His eyes snapped to hers as he debated the fact of being convinced that she really knew or not, until she added,

‘The only person I know who’s favorite animal is a bat.. is you. As well as I have your face memorized from years of knowing you.. the mask hides nothing from me..’

She then sent him a wink and before Bruce could spill the truth more about his secrets with her Y/n pulled him by the collar for a real, and deep kiss. His hands drifted to her back pressing her closer to him, locking her in between his arms as she still held his collar kissing him like her life depended on it. Feeling each other smile through the kiss they pulled away for air after what felt like an eternity of kissing another’s lips. Y/n beamed with a smile as he wiped her drying tears, they giggled as they embraced again. Feeling that feeling they felt when they locked eyes for the first times years ago, full of love and innocence.

We are still kids, but we’re so in love,

Fighting against all odds,

I know we’ll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand,

Be my girl, I’ll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

His mind coming back to the present he felt Y/n tug on his collar as she asked him lovingly,

“A penny for your thought my husband?”

Sending her a warm smile he answered truthfully,

“Just thinking about the first time you kissed me Mrs. Wayne.. my one and only perfect wife... “

“You’re too cute.. my perfect husband.”

That comment sent him scoffing in disbelief as he doubted himself,

“Perfect.. dear, I don’t think so.. I fight crime everyday.. dressed like a damn bat.. then I have a terrible sleep schedule, I sometimes cave myself in and lose it.. I get shy and don’t know how to tell you how I exactly feel.. you’ve basically become my therapist.. and I only eat when your there if not I only nibble on blueberries... I still don’t know how you said yes. What could be so perfect about me.. you on the other hand are flawless?”

“Oh baby... maybe you feel like you’re not perfect enough for this world.. but to me, you’re perfect enough.. what you see as flaws I see as perfection.. I said yes.. because that’ll be my answer for everything and forever.. Yes, to let you cry on me, yes, to spoon feed you when I find out that you haven’t been eating well, yes, to stitch up your scars every time you come home from patrol, yes, to remind you every day that what you do for the city as both the Batman and Bruce Thomas Wayne is enough and appreciated, yes, to go through life with you in sickness and health, the good and bad.. and lastly but not least, I say yes, to tell you day and night and every second I can that I love you, that I’m madly in love with you. When I see you Bruce, I see my future shining in your baby blues. So yes, once again.. you’re perfect to me.”

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what is see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don’t deserve this...

You look perfect tonight

“Thank you.. for believing in me dear, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re welcome Bruce...”

Bruce continued to dance with her as they talked about the future, to him Y/n was his perfect angel, and to her.. Bruce was her perfect Bat.. they both had wings and flew together, trials of course would come into their lives, they both knew it, but that only made them come closer, to stand through it all. Maybe to the world they weren’t the perfect couple, but in the Wayne family, inside the walls, they learned that through acceptance came perfection.

#bruce wayne #the batman #robert pattinson #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #battinson #batman #bruce wayne imagine #battinson x y/n #battinson x reader #batman fluff #battinson fluff #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fluff #batman x reader #perfect #batman comics #dc batman #battinson x you

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pomniegranate · 3 months

Note

you have a few words , pomni ? anything you want to express ? ( you already know )

From this prompt list! / Always Accepting!

... Was he fucking serious right now?

Pomni couldn't help looking at him with dumbfoundedness laced with irritation. How long has she been trying to get any inkling of useful information out of him? How long has she tolerated his theatrics and willingly allowed herself to be a puppet for his own games and personal entertainment, regardless of how it made her feel? How much has the brunette truly been bottling up all this time? HOW LONG HAS SHE BEEN HERE NOW ?

Her eye twitched. Where does she even begin to start about how she feels? There was so much collectively all bound together in a tightly knit ball in her stomach, a dense fog that shrouded her mind; she couldn't pinpoint where to start until she let the anger take the reigns and she metaphorically shoved the bottle of everything pent up inside to shatter into pieces onto the floor - a resemblance of herself. Once Pomni started, she couldn't find herself stopping.

⸺ ❝ ... Now... now you ask if I have something to say, Caine? NOW you're finding it somewhere in yourself to actually listen to me? To take what I have to say into consideration ?! ❞ She closed the distance between them as he elevated lower than usual near the floor but still floating a couple of inches off the ground. Her face was contorted in anger, as her finger went to shove itself into his chest to punctuate her words that were cycling faster than she could think.

⸺ ❝ You want me to #%!$ing express myself? Alright, fine ! You asked for it. I hate it here, not to put it lightly. Every day I feel like I'm losing more and more to myself, not getting any closer to an answer! Because YOU never give one!!! It's all riddles, jokes and games with you, like our lives are nothing but chess pieces to your own #%!$ed up pass time to play! Like we're not people!!! So tell me Caine, is there any semblance of a person inside you or are you really just an AI? Can't you see this is all hurting us??? Hurting me ??? ❞

Through her rant, the emotions that had been locked in the safe of her heart started to crack and leak out, tears started to pool at the corners of her pinwheels without her wanting them to. All until the dam broke and the wetness rolled down her cheeks as she pounded her fists into his chest like it'd do anything to solve the nightmare she's been condemned to. Pomni doesn't even know why she was bothering right now. It's not like the ringleader actually cared about her, had any piece of her that mattered to him. Could he even comprehend that? Or anything she was spilling out of her heart and past her lips to him?

❝ And you don't. Even. CARE ! ❞

Now, she was sobbing, allowing herself utterly vulnerable. And she hated it, but it was too late to get the waterworks to stop. She breathed in deep as she allowed her wails to sing in the space between them. She was tired, so tired, of just about everything. All the potential hope Pomni's carried until now rested in his white gloves. He broke her. Is that what he wanted? Is that what this sinister ploy had been all along? Well, congratulations.

YOU WON.

The pounding on his chest grew weaker and weaker before she found herself slowly falling onto her knees, any bit of strength left in her resided in the grip her gloves dug into his suit. She couldn't look at him anymore, she felt completely defeated as her eyes screwed shut and hung her head towards the ground. Her shoulders heaved with her desperate cries, jerking every time she attempted her lungs for more air. The anger was rung dry and all that was left was just the shell of herself, in the arms of the man she hated.

Woe was I to believe I mattered. That I could possibly find the true exit door to escape. This was all a trap; there was never a way to leave... just a means to delve deeper into the madness.

#veneror #inquires from an audience.#story telling.#DIDN'T PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE MEN #i hope this was okay i put a lot into it...#showtime

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avatarmerida · 2 years

Text

Wallflowers

For the first day of @huntlowweek Prompt: Date

(In case it’s not clear, this is prior to them meeting in canon and before Luz comes to the demon realm)

Date (noun): a social engagement between two persons that often has a romantic character

———

Hunter didn’t want to go.

“Why should I waste my time conversing with stupid children? I have more important things to be doing!” He insisted as Darius carefully laid out the outfit he had selected for him on his bed.

“Little prince, I hate to be the barrier of bad new but you are a ‘stupid children,’” Darius sighed as he inspected the suit for lint. “These are your peers.”

“No, they’re students,” griped Hunter, slouching in his chair. “All they do is gossip and read magazines or whatever. I have nothing in common with them.”

“You’ve never even spoken to witches your own age, how could you possibly know that?”

“Because I just do, okay?” He whined. “The Titan has big plans for me and I’m pretty sure they don’t involve drinking warm punch surrounded by tacky streamers a-and photo booths.”

“Look, I was a lot like you when I was your age,” began Darius “I too once thought I was above it all, and to be honest I was and still am, but I can’t deny the importance of attempting to socialize. The children at this event will be joining covens soon enough, and next year you’ll be taking Lillith’s place at Con con seeking out recruits for the Emperor. You don’t want to seem out of touch and embarrass the Emperor’s Coven, do you?”

“Of course not,” Hunter said, hanging his head.

“Good, now I’ll make you a deal: all you have to do is stay at the party for one hour and talk to at least one person and then you can leave.”

“What if there’s not anyone there worth talking to?”

“Well how can you hope to know if you don’t try?” Darius retorted smugly. “Now get changed, I won’t have the Golden Guard’s first social appearance be tarnished by you arriving in the same clothes you’ve been wearing all day.”

“What’s wrong with the clothes I wear?”

“Now that’s a conversation for a later time, we can’t have you being late.”

———

Willow REALLY didn’t want to go.

“You were invited sweetie, it would be rude not to go,” said Gilbert.

“But dad no one wants me there!” Willow insisted.

“Well then why would they invite you?” asked Harvey.

“They invite the whole school, but Gus can’t go this year and without him I’ll have no one to talk to!”

“Well, maybe you’ll meet a new student, have a fresh start,” offered Gilbert. “Besides, you look so wonderful in your new dress it would be a shame if no one got to see you in it.”

“And hiding never accomplished anything sweetpea,” added his husband. “Do you really want to start the new school year shut up in your room?”

“But dad-!”

“Tell you what honey, stay for one hour. If after an hour you’re not having even a little bit of fun, we’ll come pick you up and get eye-scream, no questions asked.”

“Okay, fine,” Willow sighed as she headed upstairs to start getting ready. “But I’m telling you, no one is gonna wanna talk to me.”

———

The Blight manor was a sight to behold. They held the lavish event every year; celebrating the start of the school year and allowing everyone at Hexside to share their summer stories and make sure they were in an established clique for the new semester. It was second only to Grom in popularity, but the Blights elected to use abominations in place of chaperones so in terms of drama it was second to none.

Every year there was a new theme, a tradition started by Ed and Em who used it as a chance to show off their unmatched ability to commit to a bit. Last year had been a black and white gala where they had arrived dressed as chess pieces (Emira the black nigh, Edric the white, and Amity the board) and the year before that the theme had simply been ‘glitter’ and the clean up for the glitter bombs the twins placed nearly everywhere was barely finished in time for the following party. Which brings us to this year’s theme: a masquerade ball.

Hunter appreciated the ability to leave his mask on without it bringing him too much attention. The outfit Darius had selected for him did help him blend in, black pants with a signature golden colored vest and matching tie from his personal collection. He wore one of his satin white shirts and a new pair of gloves, an addition a Hunter had insisted upon. Hunter had wanted a cape, but Darius had deemed it “overkill” and they had settled on a black suit jacket that he draped on his shoulders for the same effect. He lingered outside the door as long as he could, hoping to eat away at his time, but soon people starting asking him where to leave their coats and he retreated inside to find another place to hide. He walked around, picking up pieces of conversations to try and convince Darius he had made an effort to engage. But it was just as he expected: pointless gossip with nothing of value.

He watched as everyone else walked around trying to guess who was behind the mask and they revealed themselves with little hesitation. Hunter couldn’t help but feel it defeated the point of wearing a mask. He noticed though, that he was the only one who elected to cover the entirety of his face as the rest of the attendees donned masks that merely covered their eyes.

He stood at the punch bowl, relatively thirsty but then realized he would have to remove his mask to drink from the cup he had filled. He didn’t want to do that, he knew people were always trying to see his face and he wanted to keep his anonymity. So he just stood at the table and held his punch awkwardly, continuing counting down the hour.

“Oh, I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” said a small voice suddenly from beside him. “One of the Blight twins usually spikes the punch by now.”

“They put spikes in it?!” He said, looking at the contents of the cup closer.

“No, no,” the girl laughed. “They usually put a truth potion in it when no ones looking to cause drama; everyone starts confessing to crushes or confronting people or admitting embarrassing secrets. One year they didn’t spike it but told everyone that they did, it was chaos.”

Hunter looked at the girl a bit closer, she wore a simple emerald green dress with puffy sleeves that hung off her shoulders and a skirt that fell just past her knees and poofed out with a light yellow petticoat underneath it. It complimented the light green of her eyes that shined even behind her mask which she had decorated with intricate vines and tiny yellow flowers. Her short black hair had a gentle curl to it and was pinned back by a yellow hair clip shaped like a flower. She was pretty, he would do no more than think and she was the only one to approach him... casually. He knew the rest of the party was abuzz with whispers about him, he was used to whispers, but now they made him feel even more out of place. No one stood near him too long or complimented the outfit Darius had selected or asked him how he was. It was clear he came alone and knew no one there, but no one sought to change that. He suspected one of the Blight children would see him off when the time came, for appearances, but no one could be convinced to sacrifice a whole evening to him.

But then, out of nowhere, she came and lingered at his side and made him feel included for a brief moment. And a Hunter didn’t hate it.

“So... you’ve been to a lot of these things then, huh?”

“Yeah I guess,” she sighed. “It’s kind of a tradition, but I usually end up leaving early ever since...”

“Ever since... what?”

“Well, uh I used to come with my friend and we would hang out and dance but then she... found better friends.”

“Well, it seems like her loss, not yours,” said Hunter, dumping his punch back into the bowl. “You don’t seem... entirely unpleasant.”

“Thank you?” Willow laughed. “Well, um I can leave you alone if you want. I’m sure you probably wanna get back to your friends.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said. But some part of him didn’t want her to leave. “Well I would... but it’s my first time at one of these and my friends... aren’t here yet.”

“Oh, well maybe I can show you around until they get here,” offered Willow. “If you want.”

“I think...I’d like that,” said Hunter. “You wouldn’t happen to know where to get an unspikey beverage would you? My throat is a little dry.”

“I think I can arrange something,” she said. “But it might be hard for you to drink with that kind of mask. If you want, I can get you a more beverage friendly option.”

Willow made a circle with her finger to summon a golden flower into her hand, the petals wide and long each with a hole in the middle. She carefully folded the petals so the holes lined up and used a vine to make a strap and hold it all together as she presented it to him. “Here, try this.”

“Is that a wallflower?” he asked.

“What?”

“My... guardian said that I should avoid being a wallflower at a social event,” he said. “It’s a lovely flower but I’m just not familiar with it so I just wanted to make sure-.”

“Oh, no it’s not,” said Willow, understanding. “Uh, a wall flower is like a person who doesn’t really participate a party I guess. But personally I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being one.”

“Oh, I see,” he said as he took it, not fully understanding the definition but trusting her authority as she seemed like an expert in everything the term contained. He wasn’t used to receiving gifts without strings attached, and he looked at her face to see if there was a condition coming. But she just looked happy to help him. He quickly ducked down as he made the switch, noticing the pleasant smell her gift emitted and tucked his Golden Guard mask into the pocket of his coat. He rose to show her the updated feature. “Well, how does it look?”

“Hmm,” she said standing closer to see better. It was dim and a tad blurry but Willow couldn’t help but notice he had a very nice jawline. He smiled nervously at her closeness and she thought he had a charming smile, the gap in his teeth added a touch of character Willow found endearing. She noticed he seemed rathe taken back by her proximity and chuckled as she took a step back. “Sorry, I usually wear glasses but there wasn’t a good way to wear them with the mask so I’m a liiiittle blind.”

“Oh, well... you can wear my original mask if you want,” he said before he realized what he was saying. “It’s a little roomier and should let you wear your glasses with it. But it’s actually kind of hard to see out of normally and it might be kind of sweaty... sorry that’s probably weird.”

“That’s not weird,” she laughed. “That’s sweet of you to offer, thank you. I should be okay, I just might need a little help showing you to the kitchen since it’s kind of dark in here.”

“Well, I would be honored to be your guide,” he offered, offering his arm to her in a very noble manner.

“Sure, I mean if you’re sure...”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well... you know how I said my friend got better friends?”

He did remember and he didn’t believe her. “Yeah?”

“Well, this is her party,” admitted Willow. “Ever since we... grew apart, my status at school hasn’t been the best. I’m only here because my dads made me come. I usually don’t walk around too much or do anything to draw attention to myself. If you’re looking to avoid wallflowers, I’m kind of the textbook definition. If people saw you hanging out with me it would ruin your reputation at Hexside before it even started.”

“Well... everyone is wearing masks, how could they even tell it’s you?”

“That’s... actually a really good point,” she said with a smile as she took his arm. “Okay then, why not?”

She guided him to the kitchen and they snuck him a glass of water, the staff paying them no mind as they worked on replenishing the plates. Refreshed, Hunter allowed the girl to lead him around the vast room and Hunter narrated everything he saw to Willow who did her best to explain the meaning.

“... and now there’s a few people in the middle of the room dancing but they’re not on beat at all,” he said, his tone flat as though he was doing his normal status report. “The song is upbeat but they’re dancing fairly slow? It’s... weird.”

“Oh, they do that every year,” laughed Willow. “They’re on the bard track and Amity never lets the band play their requests so that’s their way of like protesting I guess. It’s nice though, it makes me feel less self conscious about my own dancing.”

“Oh, uh... did you wanna dance?”

“Oh, no!” laughed Willow. “I just meant like, if I did. Nothing draws more attention than dancing by yourself.”

“But you’re not by yourself.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Willow, shyly. “Would you... wanna dance with me?”

Hunter wasn’t sure if she was asking him or if she was asking him if he was asking but regardless, as he looked around the room it was clear that dancing was one of the events social norms. In his report to Darius, surely having a detailed first hand account of dancing would convince him he had competed the evening successfully. And it didn’t seem all that hard.

“Sure,” he said, knowing little about dancing except that it required music. The song changed to a slower song and the rebel bards adjusted accordingly, jumping wildly now as everyone else had been doing prior. Hunter looked around and saw the majority seemed to be doing what he assumed to be the appropriate motions to the song and finding a partner to sway with. It hardly seemed like ‘dancing’ and more like ‘barely moving’ but who was he to argue? “I mean, we don’t want to be wallflowers do we? Am I using that word right?”

“Yeah,” she giggled.

“So um... is this okay?” Hunter asked as he placed his hand on the girl’s waist as the taller person seemed to be doing in all the pairs that surrounded him.

“Oh, uh yeah,” she said as she stepped closer so he could place his other hand to her side as well. She hesitated for a moment and then brought her arms up towards his neck, hovering for a second before she rested them on his chest. “Is this okay?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” he said trying to sound casual and confident when for some reason he felt dizzy. He didn’t know where to look. He felt looking away would be rude but looking into her eyes seemed... scary but in a good way and he didn’t know why exactly. She looked down at their feet, as though she was concentrating and Hunter took the opportunity to look at her. He wondered how so many people here could think so little of her when she was so witty and wonderful. True, perhaps she was on her best behavior seeing as she was with the Golden Guard, but apart of him hoped his status would rub off on her just a little and people would think twice before treating her unkindly.

“This is nice,” she said quietly after awhile.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Ya know, I really didn’t wanna come tonight but I’m actually having a really nice time with you.”

“Uh, yeah me too.” Hunter said, surprised that he meant it. She was nice to talk to and even the silences with her seemed filed with... something.

“Sorry I’ve been hogging you all night,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sure your friends must be here by now and are wondering where you are.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” he said, almost forgetting it was a part of his cover story. “I think I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you anyway.”

“Oh,” said Willow praying her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I’d like that too. I guess this night wasn’t a total waste after all.”

“Actually, would you maybe... wanna see each other again?”

“What?”

“Uh never mind it’s stupid,” Hunter quickly sputtered, averting his eyes to the ground in embarrassment. “I mean I’m busy and you’re probably busy too and it’s not like-.”

“Wait, hey!” she said, placing her hand on his cheek to turn his eyes back to her. “I didn’t mean ‘no,’ I just didn’t hear what you said. It’s kinda loud in here.”

“Oh, yeah you’re right,” he said, breathing a little easier. “Here, why don’t we go outside?”

Willow instinctively grabbed back onto his arm as Hunter lead her onto the balcony. The music faded behind them but could still be faintly heard as it mixed with the gentle sound of the wind blowing.

“Ah, much better,” sighed Willow as she rested her elbows on the ledge, squinting at the night sky. As blurry as it was, she could tell it was a beautiful night and the sky was full of stars.

Hunter also thought it was a beautiful night, but for different reasons.

“So how’re you liking your first Blight Bash?” Willow asked brightly.

“Ew, is that seriously what they call it?” He asked.

“Yeah, but I think their energy goes more into the theme than the name,” she laughed. “I swear, it gets bigger and fancier every year. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Emperor himself shows up to one eventually. I mean, I heard the Golden Guard was supposed to come this year.” Hunter turned to her, rightfully surprised thinking that she was must joking or doing a bit. But no, she truthfully had no idea she had spent the whole night with the Golden Guard. How? She had seen his mask when he-

But she hadn’t seen his mask. Because she couldn’t see anything without her glasses. He was a blur to her, not a member of the Emperor’s coven or an authority figure, but a blur of a boy who she thought was new to her school. She wasn’t treating him nicely out of fear or respect for his status, she was testing him nicely because she was nice.

“Oh wow,” said Hunter, trying to not to show his reaction in his voice. “Is that so? That would be... good?” How did she feel about the idea?

“I’m sure Mrs. Blight would love the photo op,” she said with a light chuckle. “And I bet everybody would wanna dance with him.”

She’d lose that bet. “And why is that?”

“Well, I dunno, he’s kind of a like a prince isn’t he?” Said Willow, rocking on her heels. “It would be kinda like a fairy tale, I bet he’s very polite and he’d probably get overwhelmed with all the dance requests.”

“You don’t think he’s... scary?”

“Well, I’ve never met him but I think he’s probably more mysterious than scary,” she said. “This would be the perfect theme for him though, because between you and me I don’t think he wears the mask because he’s unattractive if ya now what I mean.” Willow grinned, nudging his ribs with her elbow.

Hunter wished he was wearing his full mask as he could feel his face getting warm in response to the indirect compliment. Thank the Titan she couldn’t see him very well. “I, uh, think I do. Ha.”!

“I bet he’d probably be working thought huh? He probably wouldn’t get a chance to have much fun being on the clock.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Hunter as he watched her look out at the night sky, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I didn’t think I was gonna have fun and then I met you. Stranger things have happened.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, enjoying his company as well. But Willow had learned the hard way how fleeting friendship could be. “Hey, um, it’s okay if you don’t talk to me when school starts, by the way. I mean, like I would understand. No hard feelings or anything.”

“Why wouldn’t I talk to you? I like talking to you.” Hunter said. “I’ll even drink the spikey punch and say it again if you don’t believe me.”

“Well it’s just... I know how hard it can be, trying to fit in.” Willow said. “And you’re really nice and cool and I would hate if I was the reason people didn’t see that.”

“Well if they can’t see those things in you then there’s no way they could see them in me,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear it. But she did. “And frankly, I wouldn’t give much value to the opinion of people who get fooled into drinking contaminated punch every year.”

“You’re funny.” She said with an airy laugh that made Hunter’s chest feel tight.

“Me?” he asked, certain he had misheard her.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh and Hunter thought she was going to add ‘looking’ at the end as Kikimora often did, but she didn’t. Hunter wondered what she would think of how he looked. He wondered why he cared.

“So, what do you like to-.”

He was interrupted by a sound from her pocket. She looked down as saw it was her scroll receiving a call. “Oh, sorry it’s my dads,” she said, realizing it had been an hour and they were calling to check on her. “I think they’re here to pick me up. Let me see what’s up, I’ll be right back.”

As she stepped away to have some privacy, Hunter realized his hour was up as well and saw Darius approaching below to pick him up. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself but he also didn’t know how to say goodbye to her. He knew he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to say that he actually wouldn’t see her at school and he didn’t know how to say why. He didn’t want to lie again or possibly embarrass her with the truth. He didn’t want to see her peridot eyes lose their light so did the only thing he could think to do and teleported away.

“So they’re on their way to come get me and we’re going out for eye scream and they said you could come if you wanted to, no pressure it could be fun, but it’s so funny when I told them about you I realized I never asked you your-.” Willow returned back to their spot, placing her scroll back in her pocket and looked up to find her escort had vanished. “-name.”

On the railing, he had left the flower mask she had crafted him, carefully balanced so she would find it and it would not fall.

———

“So did you have an absolutely horrid time, little prince?” Darius asked with candor as he met Hunter outside, boarding him into the ship.

“It actually wasn’t that bad,” Hunter said faintly as he passed him.

Darius blinked, genuinely surprised by Hunter’s lack of sarcasm. “So, did you meet anyone worthy of your time?”

“I think... I did.” He said, looking down into his hand as delicately held the small yellow flower that he had picked off the ground as he left. It had fallen from her hair at some point and Hunter had picked it up, knowing that returning it to her would the perfect excuse to see her again. A part of him secretly hoped she had dropped in on purpose.

“And what’s that you have there?”

“Um it’s nothing,” he said, quickly putting the trinket in his pocket. “It’s just uh, a flower that I found that I wanted to hold onto.”

#huntlow #huntlow week #@huntlowweek #huntlowweek #huntlowweek2022 #winter toh #toh #willow park #Hunter toh

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rockingrobin69 · 2 years

Text

Season

It got cold in the mornings, little patterns in frost on the windows. You had to get up early to see it; Draco used to hate the days his job forced him out of bed, but now there was something sweet to it. Putting the kettle on to sounds from the bathroom, Harry’s a singer, preparing two cups instead of one. Milk for Harry, sugar for him; something comforting in it, in the knowledge. Going in after him through apple-shampoo steam, into Harry’s towel-ed embrace, into every gentle kiss. A murmur, morning darling. Morning.

If it rained, they had lunch inside. Harry always served his favourite soups around this time of year: lentils, cream of mushroom, broccoli and bacon. There was something pleasant to the buzzing of people in the café, to sitting in the kitchen at the back, stealing one more piece of toast. Of Harry, always smelling like coffee, bright and awake and lovely. Draco would sneak kiss after kiss until the chef shooed him out, or until he had to go back to work. Softly touching his fingers to Harry’s lips, to his cheek, to his eyes. Afternoon, sweetheart. Afternoon.

The days were shorter, but in return they got the evenings. Harry liked to play—exploding cards and chess but also strange games, ones that didn’t move or shout or hurt you. Although Draco did get very upset when Harry used that card in Uno, the truly unfair one with the… anyway. They had the evenings to play, to drink Luna’s homemade ‘wine’ and laugh until their throats burned. Evenings that smelled like log fires and felt like Harry’s old jumper, tiny kiss on the top of his head, enough for now. Let’s go to bed. Night, love.

Then there were nights. He used to dread them, to try and stall as much as he could, avoid altogether if possible; now he had Harry’s arms wrapped around him, Harry’s curls in his mouth. And sometimes when he snuck out of bed, back to the moonlit kitchen—sometimes he’d lean against the counter and sigh. Look for his constellation beyond the clouds, think about home, about belonging. About what it means to have something, to have it truly. Then hear a sneaky pair of feet, feel a warm hand on his shoulder. All right? Yes. Just needed some… don’t worry. I know.

So they’d do the silliest things, fight or invent new identities, a whole new life for themselves they’d forget in the morning. Warm up milk for hot chocolates they always leave half-drank, kiss their way into each other, into the dark. Go outside barefoot to run on wet grass, be terrible, be idiots, be free. It was easiest then, pretending the whole world was just for them. Lovely and full to the brim. And all the things that frightened him during the day were just shadows, unimportant. The dark gave them shelter, and they took, grateful and quiet. Close-close, with a little kiss: night, love. Night.

(Day 19 of @flufftober! Find all previous ficlets here, or on AO3)

#flufftober2022 #Harry Potter #drarry fic #500 words #prompt: Hot Chocolate #soft #fluff #no one said this was going to be easy friends #RockingRobin'sflufftober #rockingrobin69

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years

Note

So we've had the pengys go through nnn (and honestly props to MOST of them lasting so long cause i know id be pouncing on them just 2 weeks in 🥴) what about the Eddies? How did they do?

A/N: asdfghj uhhh the absolute rush to get this done before november is over lol. Also I’m not gonna lie I was reluctant when I saw @finniestoncrane upload the follow up to her nnn with the riddler’s earlier lol. It just seems weird lol and I don’t wanna repeat what she wrote or seem like I’m copying lmao (even though we mutually agreed we’re symbiotic and often travel the same mental wavelengths, but I’ll do my best), I will say some of these answers are inspired by her though. Please give hers a read when you get a chance! Here’s a link to the follow-up and the original challenge (it even includes daddy oz my beloved)

Trigger Warnings: highly suggestive? Lots of teasing for both parties, mentions of masturbation (blatant hints lmao), and suggestive language that’s about it.

Also the Riddlers have a ranking system too. Same as with the Pengys:

1: being absolutely weak, thirsty simp energy, lost on the first day

10: being resilient, confident asshat that managed his impulse control just once for 30 days, but once its over you’ll both be out of commission.

How The Riddlers Handle NNN

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking, Ri these numbers are pretty high, well…that’s because if there’s one thing most of these Riddlers can’t stand…is to lose it’s almost as bad as proving him he’s wrong. Just based on that principle alone, his resilience is peaked, but then you get whores like Zero Year or baby girls like Young Justice that just don’t make it. Bless them.

Arkhamverse Riddler (9.5 out of 10):

He was close…so close…figuratively and literally. When you first mentioned the challenge to you, he scoffed. Such a childish game, only a baboon would lose at something so primal and pointless. Of course, having to prove how easy it was he took on the challenge.

Little did he realize just how much feeling your soft warm skin actually effected him. While he was tinkering away at his projects or slamming on his keyboard…he’d see you doing something mundane out of the corner of his eye. You sit on the couch, you watch TV, read a book. Your shorts riding up, the rise and fall of your chest.

Damnit, damnit, damnit.

He does make it through though, how he did you had no idea. Every time he looked at you it seemed likely he’d pounce but he did pounce finally by December 1st.

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler (3 out of 10):

This Edward just got used to you touching him. To the idea of jerking one out to you when you were at work or if he got particularly fired up and you were preoccupied with something. You were the perfect thing to relieve his stress…and for a whole month he’d have to find something else? After being spoiled with you?

His online chess games, incessant scribbling in his ledgers, crosswords scattered complete everywhere. Nothing helped, nothing like you. Ed is an absolute mess. Feet, hands, fingers constantly shaking and fidgeting.

It’s November 5th, you come by and barely greet him with your sweet voice and he’s gone. You probably should’ve brought an overnight bag, you’re not going anywhere for a few days…maybe not for the rest of the month.

Gotham Riddler (10 out of 10):

It doesn’t matter what it is. If it’s the world’s most complex Rubic’s cube or seeing if he can go a whole month without cumming. A game is a game.

Edward doesn’t lose to games. When he plays he plays for keeps. Especially if that prize means he gets to keep you under an undisclosed period of time, doing only what he asks.

He won’t lie though. Ed’s a victim of often counting his eggs before they hatch. Already assuming his win, sometimes he’ll catch himself getting hard at the faintest idea of what he wants to do to you when he wins. Which costs him to swiftly remind himself that the game is still on, he can’t lose himself to his unhinged carnal desires.

Not yet. There is a game to be won.

BTAS Riddler (9 out of 10):

Oh, well…this is a different objective to most challenges. Edward can’t say he’s not interested though. He is adamant that it’s an even playing field for the two of you.

Every time your kisses to his cheek last longer than usual. So will his hand that’s wrapped around your waist. For every tempting kiss there’s an even more persuasive touch to combat it. It’s an alluring power struggle of who can snap first.

Edward has to admit, you were far more resilient than he gave himself credit for. He finds himself lost in thought of your latest tactics…

He groans in frustration, rubbing the temples of his head. Ed tries to think of anything or anyone else to get his emotions elsewhere and for his second head to calm down.

It’s November 29th, he absolutely despises the concupiscent mess he’s become over this past month. But he can taste the finish line and it tastes like you. The moment it hits midnight on December 1st. He’s gone and he’s taking you down with him.

Zero Year Riddler (3.5 out of 10):

This dick head. This candy ass…

Listen, listen, he’s too much of a greedy attention whore to stop getting what he wants. He doesn’t care for some stupid challenge. What good is it if it’s just going to keep him from doing what he wants? That just seems highly stupid and counter intuitive.

He wants you, he’ll have you, don’t think he won’t make you break your streak as well.

No if, ands, or buts about it. Good luck coming up with a decent argument.

Twojar Riddler (7 out of 10):

This Edward I imagine has partaken in this challenge, like…just cause? I don’t know I feel like he sometimes gets his kicks by refraining himself from doing tasks that normally compel him. So when he’s with you and you challenge him. He thinks he’s got this in the bag, but that competing with a partner makes things way more tantalizing.

He didn’t stop to think what would happen if his teasing tricks were ever thrown back in his face. It becomes less about keeping himself in check and more about getting you to lose first.

It’s barely the 10th of November, neither of you have made a provocative move yet. Albeit at this point just about everything you do turns him on. Ed misses touching and holding you, and as much as he hates to admit it, it’s frustrating as hell for him.

You bent down to pick something off the floor and before you know it, you’re launched onto the couch with Ed instantly hovering over you.

You both may have lost, but you never felt more like a winner seeing how you made Gotham’s enigma snap.

Gotham City Sirens Riddler (10 out of 10):

Oohh, this seems fun.

It’ll definitely break up the monotony of you two’s day to day. Especially seeing as how after particular difficult cases, he either rushes home to you or puts in a call from his office for you to…um…visit.

The lengths he goes to to distract himself from wandering about you however, proves to be the primary challenge. More often than not he’s rubbed one out at his desk when you weren’t available or he was just too wound up to move anymore.

You may find a dart board with ten darts in it and littered with various miniscule holes. You’ll see stacks of files. One day organized by alphabet, the next shelved by chronological order.

Edward is a mess that’s one more bad day away, one more outlandish case from absolutely railing you on the nearest surface. However, he finds relief when he glances at his calendar and sees it’s December 1st. Grinning, he decides to close his office early and come straight home to you.

Young Justice Riddler (-5 out of 10):

Okay, first of all. How dare you, t-this is just absolutely cruel. The poor baby girl can’t even handle holding hands or cheek kisses??

You have to go over the rules with him a few times. One is to make sure he understands, the second is for it to sink in how royally screwed he is…ironically. He tries, the sweetheart absolutely does try but he doesn’t even last a day.

Ed couldn’t help it, you just looked so pretty and you just had to kiss his cheek cause he “looks so cute.” Whatever blood was there that flushed his face went straight down to his groin and he was bricked up before he even got to the bathroom.

Telltale Riddler (11 out of 10):

This old bag rolls his eyes at the challenge. Much like Arkhamverse, he finds it extremely primitive and stupid waste of time and energy. He indulges you though, on the sole purpose of seeing you get riled up and flustered.

You don’t even get to try and tease him or make him break. He’s already somehow three steps ahead of you. He infiltrates your thoughts and gets under your skin like a crusty rugged viper. All of a sudden it became a test more so for you than him.

He wins by a dumb landslide. Ed chuckled pleased, of course he’d win, you shouldn’t expect any less. Now…his prize?

Hush (DCAU) Riddler (4.5 out of 10):

Much like a few other Riddlers on here, this Ed tries fumbling convince you that he would win. He won’t fall for your flirtatious wiles…however that’s not what he had to be concerned with.

It would be the middle of the month, like November 20th or 25th almost more than halfway through. He’s bound up tight, his stress on the brink of tipping over, but he tries to remind himself the reward will be worth it. Not to mention the absolute bragging rights…

Until he has a run-in with Batman or he’s the butt of another joke among the Rogues Gallery. His confidence is crushed. You don’t even have to ask him what’s wrong, you can just tell. You’re the only one that can make him feel like he’s worth something, that he is a somebody.

You make all the mocking sneers, jeers, and cackles go away.

Let the poor man lose, and let him lose sweetly. There’s always next year.

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