#and he decides that now. now is the time to wear the shawl.

[daisy-bugs]

scar's red life shawl is his last life robes after one (1) mental breakdown and a pair of shears. to me.

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 2 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 3

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Your suit was still immaculate thanks to your incessant fiddling, adjusting, and pruning. If not for the gel wearing out in your hair and the sweat beading your brow, the illusion was almost believable. Your rings clinked against the sink's enamel, your silver accents glinting in the fluorescent lighting, while a person did their business in the stall behind you. You sighed and washed your hands.

Damn, the soap was nice. They'd really gone all out for the reception, the fall theme extending even to the cinnamon spice soap bars.

Who were you even trying to fool? You were hiding in the bathroom. You'd arrived on the scene of the reception party in relatively high spirits, convinced all was fine and dandy, that Gretchen was looking to make amends in this small way. But you'd been wrong.

The invitation hadn't been a fluke. There hadn't been some mistake, because on the little plaque where your name was scrawled in neat cursive sat another right next to it. On the round table where you'd be sitting, there would be Regina George directly to your left. On your other side would be Shane Oman. Across from you, Damian and Janis.

You stepped out of the bathroom, a lump still firmly lodged in your throat but resolve found. You'd brave it, be an adult about it. The breakup had been perfectly amicable, for the most part anyway, so there was no reason for you to be so wound up.

"The maid of honour is a major bitch." Amanda sidled up to you as you walked towards your table. She directed you to the bar by the arm.

"She won't let us switch?" You asked, dismayed but not surprised.

"She won't even let you move to the spare table," Amanda said indignantly. "The whole time, I swear, she was lookin' me up and down all judgy."

"Ugh," You groaned. "Can she get your strongest drink?" You motioned for the bartender. The man nodded with a smile, seeming relieved to be rescued from the old lady chatting him up. He was a good-looking fella, tattoo sleeves and a military haircut.

"Anything for you?" He asked you, eyes lingering on Amanda shyly. Amanda leered at him unabashedly, batting her eyelashes while he made her drink.

"Just a coke." You'd been sober for a good couple of years now, free of all substances. You'd had a nasty relapse in college, a disgraceful return to party drugs and obscene amounts of alcohol, but you'd been able to find your footing since. Largely due to Amanda's intervention.

"You gonna be alright?" Amanda asked, for now deciding not to make a move on the bartender. You knew she was biding her time, establishing tension before she struck. She picked up men like a shark.

"Sure, yeah. It's gonna be okay. It's just, y'know, my ex. And her ex. And her nemesis and that nemesis' best friend. All good."

Amanda eyed you warily. You sipped at your coke through a straw. She, too, took a large gulp.

By the time the bride and the groom made their entrance, you were sitting in your spot, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the other occupants of the table. Shane was squirming on your right, fiddling with what seemed to be an engagement ring. Janis and Damian, sitting across from you, didn't seem to have changed much, except obviously grown up.

Janis was still unapologetically goth, though seemingly turned more toward clean, angular lines rather than messy, smudged blacks. She had on a dress and a shawl, beaded bangles and silver jewellery covering her wrists. She'd gotten more piercings since you last saw her. Angel bites on her upper lip, a bridge between her eyes, and stretched ear lobes. There were some bold tattoos as well, such as a rose crawling up her neck and the head of a snake on the back of her hand, extending up her arm.

Damian was in a cute, velvety green suit. His shirt, white with light green fleur de lis patterns, had ruffles going down the buttons. The length of its sleeves also surpassed that of the suit's, which made the whole look seem kind of piratey. His natural hair, a poofy afro, the bulky red-tinted glasses, and the pointy boots he had on gave off a bohemian seventies disco star vibe. He had a very specific aesthetic and you couldn't help but be impressed.

The seat on your left was pointedly lacking a person. Only the plaque was there along with its elegant scrawl. You crossed your legs and threaded your fingers together, bracing for the moment somebody said something to you. Or you were forced to do it yourself.

"So..." There it comes. Surprisingly it was Shane, of all people. "You and Regina."

"Huh?" You made a sound.

"I mean, you're here together, right? That's what I heard." He scratched at his neck, seeming nervous. All the confidence and obnoxious self-assurance seemed to have melted off of him.

"No, you- what? Where'd you hear that?"

"Just some nasty gossip. Don't worry about it. Aaron and I know what it's like." He smiled supportively but somewhere in the crevices of his cheeks, it seemed sad. "Have you been out for long?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shane and Aaron? Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Um, pretty much since high school. To be fair, I didn't tell a lot of people back then. You know how Northshore was." He nodded along solemnly. "But in college I sort of bit the bullet."

"That's really brave. Aaron and I haven't been out for long, only since the new law passed." He still seemed cautious and shy, but talking about Aaron clearly made him happy.

"When did you two get together?"

As Shane began to tell the tale, you slowly began to relax. Maybe Regina wouldn't even show up. If you and Gretchen were estranged, Regina and she were even more so. Regina had never given you details, but you did know Gretchen had been heavily involved in your shitty junior year. They'd had an explosive, very public falling-out that'd led to a whole lot of drama.

By that point, you'd sort of checked out of high school as well as your relationship with Regina, so you'd paid very little attention.

"Oh, here she comes," Shane pointed behind you, cutting off his own story. You whirled around, back crackling as you twisted your spine.

Regina George, in the flesh. Your mouth watered, pupils dilated, and there was no way you could've suppressed your reaction. Her eyes were locked on yours, a predatory glint in her eye as she strutted towards your table.

You almost didn't hear Damian's whistle or Janis' stunned laugh, but as Regina shifted the white fur stole she had to reveal her shoulders and chest, you went wholly deaf to all but the clack of her heels.

She had on a baby pink bodycon dress with a slit sinfully high up on her thigh, satin hugging her hips sensually. She had on white high heels with thin straps at the ankle and fur at the tops of her toes.

Her makeup was natural, with subtle browns and blacks, except for the prominent blush she'd picked. Her hair was a warmer blonde than before, complimenting her tanned skin. She had on golden jewellery, a familiar golden necklace resting on the dip of her clavicles like a taunt.

She kept on advancing towards the table. You could do little else but stare, slack-jawed at the visage of her. Other people were staring too, you could tell. You could only imagine what Gretchen was doing with her face at the moment, perhaps scowling like a pug or maybe looking like she was about to cry. Regina was but a guest and yet...

Regina was never just Regina. You knew that better than anyone. No matter how she dressed, behaved, or what her priorities were, she was an innate presence that influenced those around her. Gretchen inviting her to this wedding was essentially like shooting herself in the foot.

Regina didn't have to try to snatch the attention of the room, but when she did, there was no competition. And Regina had gone all out. You could tell by the movements of her hands, the way her lashes fluttered, and how her mouth parted just a little. It was obvious, at least to you, that Regina was doing what she did best: Revenge.

"Hi, baby," She cooed down at you. You took a moment to react, surprised by how she was suddenly there, right in front of you.

Her hands reached for you, long acrylics brushing against your collar, then your neck, then the back of your neck and in your hair. Her thumbs directed your head to tilt up. She pulled you close as she leaned down and then—peach lipgloss, glittery eyeshadow, saccharine perfume—your skin tingled where she touched you, sparks going off behind your eyelids as they fell closed, bliss pouring out of your pores as you became filled with it.

You kissed her back, took hold of her hips and pulled her to stand between your legs. Fuck, this was bad. But, fuck, it felt good to kiss her again.

Distantly, like someone shouting into the water in which you were submerged, you realized that this was perhaps the worst way, place, and time you could've reunited with Regina.

Even so, you kissed deeper, licking into her mouth until she made a sound you'd so missed all these years. Just as you began debating the pros and cons of laying her down on the table right there in the open, Shane tugged hard on your shoulder.

"What?" You grumbled, turning to him with a glare already in place.

He was red-faced, and frazzled, but had on a wide grin. "Get it, girl, but calm down. The mother of the bride looks like she's about to implode." He inclined his head towards the long table where all the important people sat. The mother of the bride did indeed look to be on the precipice of a furious blow-out.

"Okay," You swallowed, sense slowly coming back to you.

"Ugh, you're such a party pooper, Shane." Regina pulled away, leaving your palms achingly empty. She didn't go far though. She sat down on her chair before reaching into her white Valentino bag and pulling out some napkins. Then, she leaned in again.

Your eyes fluttered closed and lips puckered. Regina laughed.

"Silly, you have gloss all over your face."

"Oh," Your eyes opened. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

Regina wiped your mouth. Then, she pulled out a compact mirror and fixed her own lips. You watched her do all this. She and Shane started chatting. Apparently, they'd been in somewhat regular contact.

You'd just kissed Regina George. After, what, eight or nine years? In front of the whole goddamn venue. In front of Gretchen, in front of Gretchen's family, in front of basically your entire year from high school.

You got up. "Oh, where are you going?" Shane asked, all innocent. You hoped you didn't look as panicked as you felt. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong. You glanced at Regina.

Fuck. She totally knew. Obviously, she knew you. She could read you like a book.

"Smoke. Be back in a few." You fled.

"I'm coming too," Janis said.

Notes: Sorry for the long break everybody! I graduated and had a party for that! Went on a little trip to the countryside with friends! And now, at last, I'm back at my desk and ready to churn out some long overdue chapters.

Taglist posted separately! Comment on that post to get on it if you want!

[sure-i-exist]

Ok thank you and this is all very cool and useful.

I do absolutely wanna use some stuff from dotdd (I’d also like to play it sometime if I can find the time) - I already know that I’ve heard Oliver and Esther kinda get more of a personality in it which is enough reasoning alone for me but the idea of more characters and luciens diary and Cerboreas having a backstory?? Yeah that definitely sounds cool.

(We kinda already guessed Oliver was lonely, he doesn’t really seem to have any friends aside from Phil, and I assume Phil’s got his own friends separate to Oliver just cause of the ages they are.)

I will say more drippy is definitely another thing that we also wanna have more of, both more drippy being silly and mean and funny and also more drippy being serious, or talking about Alicia, or being more obvious about the care he and Oliver have for each other. Just more drippy he’s awesome.

(We actually have character focuses for each season (we’ve separated it into 4 seasons total) with season 1 Oliver and Drippy, then early season 2 is Esther and late season 2 is Swaine, season 3 is Oliver and Drippy again but now they’re finding the stones and putting the wand together and we see more of the evolution between them at the start vs now, and then season 4 is pretty much all about Cassiopeia.)

The politics is very interesting, probably not something we’ll heavily focus on but I do really wanna include it in some noticeable way.

And yeah this was a very broad question I gave you, I probably will send follow-up asks about more specific stuff (no idea when I’d send them, this is kinda a longer project me and my sister are doing on and off), but thank you even then cause you’ve given some really cool things to think on and figure out despite the massive question this kinda was lol

Hi! Me and my sister have been, kinda as just a fun creative activity, basically making notes and planning out how we would do ni no kuni (specifically white witch cause that’s all we’ve played) if it were a tv show. We’re changing some stuff, keeping others, expanding on more, etc.. Seeing as you are the no. 1nnk fan on tumblr, I was curious if there’s any lore or cool things or just anything that you reckon we absolutely gotta keep or do something with. (Also have a lovely day ur delightful)

oh goddd this question is so broad. man. it's a good one though

okay. the thing with a wotww tv show is that of course the viewer does not have the privilege of looking at the wizard's companion which is where a lot of lore is kept. this means i think you should make the small amount of politics surrounding non-magical people that's present in the story rather than in the companion much more prevalent. like obviously swaine is a given but stuff like khulan and kublai's romance being taboo because one is a great sage and one is a non-magical sky pirate. how lucien became shadar because he saw the horrors magic inflicted on society and tried to stop it. my pinned post goes into it in detail if you wanna read it so i won't rehash everything it says

what else. i'm biased but i will always advocate for more drippy content. in the context of a show you have more space for drippy to talk about alicia and have it all come together for the allie reveal to be insane. level 5 missed that opportunity and i will always be upset about it

obviously also expanding on esther and even swaine's backstories. i mean esther doesn't even have one

i recognise that you have only played wotww so i won't go into any of the major differences between it and dotdd but hear me out... i think minor differences in dotdd should be kept because just in general dotdd imo does a lot of things better than wotww. things like yuri (A CHARACTER. YURI AS IN THE CHARACTER'S NAME) on the tombstone trail, cerboreas's dotdd backstory, oliver being a fairly lonely/bullied kid growing up, perdida... and lucien's diary, and everything to do with it. lot of these concepts will be unfamiliar to you so this paragraph is kind of just me spitballing what i would want in a show like this at this point don't take it as me saying you should do this if you don't know what i'm talking about LMAO

umm. this IS a broad question so if you have any specific like. arcs or characters or whatever send me another ask. finally have fun with it and i'd love to see what you have once you're done :] (and thank you for the compliment :])

[3584-tropical-fish]

Silt verses reference sheets, part two!! This time for Faulkner

My Carpenter reference sheet is here, and some further notes on these are under the cut!

First Image: Whenever i draw season 1 faulkner it does NOT look like him, and i blame his fuckass haircut. my guy did that while looking at his reflection in the river and it looked awful and he doesn't trust anyone else to cut it for him. I do like to imagine that Paige looked at him, immediately recognized that he cut his own hair, and offered to cut it for him at some point during season 1. This probably doesn't work well with the timeline, but it's real to me and i can headcanon what i want.

Second Image: It was fully not intentional on my part that Faulkner's s2 fit would be so reminiscent of my s1 design for Carpenter, but then I realized that was the case and there's no going back now. It fits so well and is very important to me as a detail. I also imagine he doesn't really want to show off that scar he got from the sentinel, because he sees it as a failure, so he wears the turtleneck, Also, it's practical, because it's probably cold up in those mountains.

I was going back and forth for a bit on how much Mercer fucked up Faulkner's face when she beat him up at the end of season 2. I might alter my design for him so that she fully gives him a broken nose, because she did hit him A Lot. I also don't know how much the glass would leave a mark, but I like the idea of him having very small scars on his hands from the mirror glass for the rest of the series.

I'll make a note here about my thoughts on the fishhooks now, because I've decided I like the thought of them being awarded for successful pilgrimages/other religious victories. Where you get the piercing probably also matters, because fishhooks are also used to mark sacrifices, but it's a concept I want to play around with more. We'll see where I go with this.

Third Image: No particular notes on that first drawing, and honestly not a lot of notes on the high prophet fit either, since that one is basically my closest interpretation of what's stated in text. I liked the idea of his shoes being replaced with less practical, but better looking shoes. or maybe not since shoes dont exist anymore. tragic

Also, I imagine the cope is very very intricately embroidered. I didn't know how to get that across with the scale I was working with, but trust me. I also like the though that on the shoulders, the whole face is depicted, but you can't see most of it because it's covered by that outer shawl-like thing. The shawl/poncho shape has kinda become a staple of Parish fits, so I think I'm going to keep rolling with it. In the second drawing of the second image, you kinda get that shape with his sleeves, and his cassock also has that going on at the top of the sleeves. I don't know, it's something.

I may or may not be missing injuries on my little injuries diagram, but I'm pretty confident ive got the important ones. I did eventually settle on Mercer not breaking his nose (for now at least), but i did like the thought of her knocking out or cracking one of his teeth, like he did to Carpenter in the season 1 finale. cycles of violence or something.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. reader wears a dress and is in their late 30s, as is bakugou.

Despite your best hopes, you and Dynamight are late to the charity ball. Not because of anything particularly sexy, at least not this early in your budding relationship, but because traffic decided to be hell at 7pm on a Saturday evening, and while many precious seconds were lost both in his prolonged gaze at your dress and your inability to find the words to tell him how handsome he looks in his suit, there wasn’t much you could do about the highway congestion.

(You’re thankful at least that he respected your suggestion that explosions and chiffon would not mix.)

The two of you manage to shuffle in right before everyone’s finished taking their seats. Katsuki is of course seated with the remainder of the top 5 ranking heroes, and their partners, and he pulls out a chair for you to be seated, your name tag placed right in between him and Deku’s partner. She watches him slide your chair in and help you place your shawl in a safe place, then whispers something to her husband who’s smiling as he always does, splitting glances between the emcee, his wife and his flustered friend.

You try to keep your embarrassment to a minimum, and are thankful when Katsuki finally rubs your shoulders gently before disappearing to the restroom. Now you are alone, warmed in the cheeks and trying to look very interested in the opening speech. No time for introductions, but you can recognize everyone at the table even if you haven’t formally met. Izuku’s partner’s eyes settle on you again and it takes her exactly five minutes to give into finally shifting closer to you, just so she can whisper,

“You know, it’s the first time I think I’ve seen him fuss over someone like that.”

You can feel your body tense ever so slightly, but her demeanor is friendly if a bit playful. She introduces herself in a whisper, despite the fact that you already know who she is, she’s been on the television on and off for the past decade as Number One’s number one. 

“He talks about you all the time,” she adds. You smile, unsure of what to say back except that you’re thankful that you’re finally here to meet his wonderful friends.

You’re new to all of this, and in many ways, feel very much a fish-out-of-water, having lived a quiet life, single and responsible to no one except your well-loved cats. You’ve been on dates in your 20s and have long since lost your interest in the dinner-and-a-movie combo by the time you turned 30, and now that you’re closer to your 40s than you are your 30s, the butterflies in your stomach with every nervous smile or brush of your fingers Katsuki offers you carries a soft twang of embarrassment. You’re too old to be this giddy you think sometimes. 

She says nothing more to you until the speech is over, and Katsuki arrives at the same time as she turns again. Her eyes narrow playfully as Katsuki slips into the chair beside you, slipping his hand over yours on the table. 

“Kacchan, aren’t you sweet?”

He scowls at her, but his hand doesn’t move. Shoto, you can see from across the table, looks curiously at your joined hands while Izuku pulls his partner in and gently reminds her not to worry you. He’s quick to introduce himself as well with a firm but not-too-firm handshake.

“We’re so delighted to meet you,” he says. Red Riot gets up from his seat and claps Katsuki on the shoulder, and it’s loud enough that it startles you a bit, but he’s grinning ear to ear as he looks at the both of you.

“We were beginning to think you’d die alone!” he exclaims, which has Katsuki gritting his teeth. 

“Will any one of you stop acting like I’ve never had a date before?” He’s seething and you try to stifle a giggle. He hears you and his head snaps in your direction, but your smile quickly softens his look of betrayal. He scoots his chair in and holds your hand tighter.

“Act normal,” he hisses to the rest of them, and the lights dim again for the next speech while Izuku and his wife keep sneaking glances at you and giggling, huddled together, as if they are kids themselves.

You on the other hand are gleeful but keep your laughter internal. Katsuki leans in and asks you what’s so funny, but you both know.

You’d think you’d all known each other since you were kids, the way Katsuki’s friends have so easily assimilated you into the group, and it only mirrors the way you’ve always felt since you’ve met him.

That things have fallen in place, perhaps late, but better than never.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Forevermore

Happily Ever After, here we are. This is part 20 of 20... The End.

Tale of the Cursed Raven: Part 1 I Part 2I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6 I Part 7 I Part 8 | Part 9 I Part 10 I Part 11 I Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

The Mostro Lounge after hours is a shadow of itself in the daytime. With the lights turned down and the area empty, it transforms from a classy jazz bar to a lonely cavern, twisting with strange shapes. The sea overlooks it, coloring the lounge a lonely deep blue.

A cackling laugh rings out.

“Ahahahahah!! Jade got stood up,” Floyd sputters, pounding a fist on a table. He has a glass of juice in hand, has been chugging shot after shot of it to power his giggles. "What a loser!!"

“Floyd, you’re being so rude,” Azul sighs—though he is fighting a smirk. “Perhaps Jade is simply not as desirable as he might believe he is. We cannot fault him for that."

Jade, sandwiched between his twin and his dorm leader, wears a tight smile. "I am glad to see you two are being so very supportive of me during my time of emotional crisis," he says sardonically. “Where would I be without you?”

His biting comment doesn't stop Floyd from downing another glass of juice, from letting loose another round of laughter.

"She finally got her back at ’cha ya after you pushed her around for so long," Floyd teases. But he’s not on her side—no, not with that malicious jeer on his face. He knows his brother too well. “Oh, she is so dead.”

“I’m don’t want to be held liable for whatever stunt you decide to pull next,” Azul adds, quick with the reminder, “so be reasonable with your revenge, will you?

“I make no promises,” Jade says lightly. “I am very hurt by the what transpired. There’s no telling how far I may be driven to act on account of a broken heart.”

“Broken heart!!” Floyd gasps. In all his 17 years, he has never heard his twin make a claim more ridiculous. “Jade? Hahahahah!! More like hurt pride."

"More tea?" Azul offers, readying a pot. "To fill your cup and your 'broken heart'."

"My, you're so cruel to poor little me. Shikushiku, I'm being bullied so," Jade laments, rubbing at fake tears. "... But yes, more tea would be lovely. I could make do with a warm drink after being hung out to dry in that cold, bitter night."

"It's spring. It's not that cold," Floyd jabs.

"Oh, let him be a drama queen and air it all out." The tea is poured and slid to Jade. "Better that he do this now than during work hours."

Knock, knock, knock!

"... Now who could that be?" Azul wonders. He raises his voice so that it reaches outside. "The Mostro Lounge is closed for the day. If you wish to dine at our establishment, please consider coming back tomorrow afternoon..."

The knocking persists, louder and faster.

Azul opens his mouth to reiterate his message--but Floyd gets up and stomps over, yanking the door open.

"Didn't 'cha hear Azul the first time?" the eel growls. "He said to scram, or-- Oh." He abruptly stops. The anger he wears slowly morphs into a sly grin. "Oooooooh."

"Floyd? Who is it?" Azul demands. Then he, too, stops. "... Jade, I think you have a visitor."

He peers up from the rim of his teacup.

There, peeking out from between Floyd and Azul, is a small girl in pigtails and a feathered shawl. A very, very familiar girl.

Jade sets his drink down and rises to his feet. "Miss Raven?"

His dorm leader glances at Floyd, seizing him by the arm. "Dear me! It seems I've forgotten to run some payroll calculations! I'll need your assistance with that, Floyd. Come, to my office."

"Eeeeh? But I wanna stick around and wa--"

"My office," Azul presses. His grip is a powerful vice on Floyd. "NOW."

The octopus drags his subordinate off. They disappear down a corridor, but Jade knows they’re lingering behind the wall, ears pressed to it. He tuts and shakes his head. At them, at the raven that has found its way to him.

“… Welcome to the Mostro Lounge,” Jade recites, bending onto a bow. He speaks as though reading from a script. “Bar or booth, and how big is your party?”

“Hello,” Raven replies curtly. “Booth is fine. It’s just me today.”

He smirks. “Just you?”

“Well—” she falters. “Technically two, but the other person in my party is already seated.”

“Two it is then.” Jade indicates the table he sits at, and the seat beside him.

Raven carefully slides into it, but keeps about a person’s worth of distance from him. He remains where he is, respecting that boundary.

“Ordinarily, we would require a filled out punch card for a private consultation,” Jade attempts at a joke. It’s as dry as a cracker.

“For Azul-san, yes.” She folds her arms. “But you’re the one I wanted to see, not him.”

“Oya?” There is a thread of delight in his voice.

“Look." Raven hesitates, but she forces herself to swallow her pride. "I will speak plainly. You... have wronged me in the past. Lied to me, manipulated me, all for your own gain. In short, you're awful. Terrible. Absolutely THE WORST."

He does not disagree, does not profess guilt. Only smiles patiently.

A breath. "However, I have made missteps as well. I realize that you have attempted to approach me to make amends, yet I never paid any mind to them. I was so fixated on my own hurt, I shut myself off from the world and refused to listen to the calls that came from beyond my tower.

"I built up those walls. I locked the exit and threw out the key. I tamed a dragon to guard my tower. It felt safer to keep that distance than to push against it."

She produces an envelope and lays it on the table. Pale blue, ripped open. To My Dearest Raven scrawled on it.

Jade's eyes glimmer with recognition.

"There's still too many things that need to be said. I don't think there's enough time to get through them. At this point, I fear even an apology would not be sufficient. So..." Raven clears her throat and sticks out her hand--the bandaged one. "Let’s turn a new page and start over.”

Jade's brows scrunch together. "Miss Raven, surely you do not intend to..."

"Hello! My name is... Raven Crowley," she loudly announces. Her introduction bounces off the glass wall, fills the empty chairs and crevices of the lounge. "I am a first-year student in Class 1-A. I look forward to working with you!"

Jade stares at her, stunned at her aplomb. A moment skips by, then he chuckles, slipping his hand into hers and shaking.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Raven. I am Jade Leech, second year in Class 2-E," he greets. "I also serve as the vice dorm leader of Octavinelle. Please do let me know if you are ever in need of any assistance. I would be more than happy to help you."

His hand, she notices, is far larger than hers. He could easily crush her poor fingers—but his touch is gentle, as if he is handling a glass slipper for a princess.

Her heart pounds.

She can’t do this, not again.

“I’m glad we were able to sort this out. Thank you for your understanding.” Raven grants him a papery smile. “Please give Azul-san and Floyd-san my regards, since they appear to be predisposed at the moment.”

She begins to retract her hand, and suddenly his grip hardens, assuming a strength she didn’t realize he is capable of. Pain lances through her nerves. Raven laughs anxiously.

“Erm… You can let go now?”

“I think not,” Jade insists. He has a predator's smile, the sharp ends of his teeth showing. "Is there anything else you wish to say to me, Miss Raven?"

"Th-That was all I wanted to say..."

"That is all? Have you anything to say for standing me up the other night?"

"N-No, I never intended for that to happen...! Something unexpected came up, so I couldn't make it as planned," Raven sputters, cheeks turning pink with shame.

"I was horribly hurt when you never appeared." Jade frowns, sorrow causing his voice to tremble. "You toyed with my feelings so cruelly. I can find it in myself to forgive you, should you look me in the eye and provide an apology."

"O-Okay, if that's what it takes to make you feel better and set things right..."

With great effort, she forces herself to stare at him. At Jade Leech. He's still every bit as handsome as he was before. A straight nose, wistful lips, clever cat-like eyes that slant up--not matching.

A beautiful liar.

A flurry of complicated feelings swarms her.

She visibly shakes.

"What is wrong, Miss Raven? You are looking at me with such a fearful gaze. Yes, the very same fearful gaze from our very first meeting."

His left eye--golden--shines eerily. When he talks it is low and hypnotic. Raven cannot find it in herself to tear away from them.

“Don’t be afraid. I want to help you.

"Shock the Heart.” 

“Eh…”

The light drains from her eyes.

Jade’s voice turns stern as he brings his face close to hers. “I will ask you a question, and you will answer honestly. Miss Raven, what exactly are your feelings towards me? Please state them very clearly and with your entire chest.”

Magic forces itself like a fisted arm down her throat. A harsh grip on her tongue, dredging up all the words she so often buries deep down. Her entire mouth feels like it is on fire.

“I-I…!”

Three words, eight letters.

They tumble so effortlessly from her.

The world stands still. It’s as though it, too, is in disbelief, freezing in its rotation to gasp.

No light. No sparkles. No poof.

But now she almost wants to go poof.

Raven goes from pink to scarlet. She covers her mouth with both hands and curls into a ball in the booth.

"Whoa, she said it--Black Pearly really, really said it," Floyd cries, poking his head out from his hiding place. “About time!!”

“F-Floyd…!” Azul hisses, appearing shortly after him. He pushes his glasses up. “T-To be clear, we were not eavesdropping! Not at all!! We just happened to finish our task and were returning to check up on you two.”

“Tsk, tsk… How naughty of you to interrupt this intimate moment between myself and Miss Raven.” Jade sounds disappointed, but he is grinning from ear to ear. “Fufufu, thank you for satisfying my curiosity.”

“Y-You…!!” Her voice revs up, squeaky as a dog’s chew toy. “You CHEATED!! You made me say something I wasn’t yet ready for…!”

“Oya?” He does not look the least bit apologetic about it. “What does it matter if I used less than conventional methods to arrive at the answer? In the end, the same results were achieved much more efficiently. And, on top of that…”

He reaches out and prods the tip of her nose.

“… I was able to see this charming reaction.”

“AHHHHHHHH, don’t remind me…!” Raven hides her burning face in her knees.

“Fufufufu. How adorable.”

Azul coughs stiffly, reminding them of his presence. “I think you fail to see the benefit of this move, Raven-san. It’s very benevolent of him.”

“What benefit?! Th-There is NOTHING beneficial about this situation unless you count Jade getting a sick kick out of this!!”

“My, that’s rather unkind of you to say. Amusing as it is, no. There is a real, tangible boon for you.” Azul taps at his temples. “Jade’s unique magic. Because he has used it on you once, he can no longer do so in the future.”

Her flaring temper cools for a few flickering seconds.

“Oh…”

He’s right.

Jade’s lip curls. “There. Isn’t that a weight off of your shoulders? Consider this my gift to you—reassurance that I will not be able to use Shock the Heart to pry other information out of you. As for what other underhanded tactics I may use… Fufu, well, I’m certain you can rely on your own best judgment to determine the truths and the lies.”

Raven glares at him. “You really are the worst.”

“Why, thank you.”

She angrily buries herself back in her knees. Jade looms over her, stroking her head and quietly fussing.

“Soooo…” Floyd scratches the back of his head. “Does this mean you guys’re gonna be a thing now? Like… a couple? You gonna make good-good eyes and make out now?”

“No way,” comes Raven’s muffled reply.

“Whaaat? But you basically confessed already. Quit bein’ stubborn.”

“I-It’s not stubbornness. I don’t feel like I’m… r-ready for that kind of a commitment!” Raven draws nervous circles on the booth cushions. “I’m still a newborn chick when it comes to m-matters of the heart… It’s embarrassing!!”

She takes a deep breath, then whispers, “B-Besides, I’m working on myself so I can be someone worthy of a love like that…”

“Bo~ring!” Floyd pouts, then turns to his twin with a much brighter tone. “Ne, ne, Jade~ Are you and Black Pearly gonna be together?”

“Don’t ask him just because you didn’t like my answer!!”

“Raven-san is correct,” Azul points out. “A couple it is not unless those involved mutually agree to the arrangement. Jade may say yes, but Raven-san may say no… thus annulling the terms.”

“Oh dear, what a predicament we find ourselves in.” Jade sighs, and he almost sounds tired. “There’s no helping it, I suppose. We must respect Miss Raven’s wishes. That is fine. As I said in my letter, a little black birdie once told me that I can be very patient. However, until the time comes when you feel you are ready to be fully embraced…”

She locks up.

Warm breath caresses her ear.

“How does this part go again?” Jade muses. “Ah, yes... And they lived happily ever after… The end.”

His mouth gently presses to her forehead. Soft, sweet, and smelling of the sea and the sky.

“W-What… a-awawawawah…” Raven goes from red to burgundy. Her ability to form sentences spirals downward.

“Oya, you’re quite flustered~”

“Wooow, they’re bein’ so mushy, Azul.” Floyd openly grimaces. “It’s kinda… gross.”

"Indeed, they are—and in front of onlookers.” Their dorm leader shrugs. “Shameless as it is, I do so love a happy ending.”

And it will remain as such, forevermore.

[beneathsilverstars]

yayy post-canon loop designs DONE!!! first one is after they've re-joined the party but are still adjusting, and the second is later when they're more settled and confident.

i knew i wanted to give them a style that's loose and comfortable, but unique and fun; something that can fill a similar niche to siffrin's canon outfit in both style and fit, while remaining totally aesthetically distinct. so i went in a mori kei direction!

design note rambling under the cut

immediately post-canon, loop sticks to dark and black clothing, avoiding siffrin's signature white-on-black. they try both long loose dresses and tighter leggings/turtlenecks, trying to figure out what feels the least weird to wear on their pure-craft-energy body, and end up layering them both. snug and enveloping! they refuse to wear a cloak, but end up just draping their favorite black blanket over their shoulders instead. it's a nice rich lightless, and soft, but still thick enough to block the shine of their head. good for staying cozy or hiding.

after they join up with the party, loop eventually decides fuck it, i can't just define myself in opposition to siffrin, why does he get dibs on our favorite colors. so they start adding white back into their wardrobe! after odile helps them figure out how to craft their body to feel a little more solid, they don't feel like they need to stay so multi-layer covered up anymore, but at this point it's habit. they're still enjoying lightweight fabrics, and getting into fun textures. they don't like the way full pockets affect the drape, so they use a couple bags to store their magpie'd items instead.

once the bodycrafting is more-or-less-done they feel a lot more comfortable in their body, and start to even kinda enjoy how striking their star skin looks among other shades! they still tend to layer, but they no longer need all the layers, and they'll leave the blanket at home in favor of lighter-weight shawls or scarfs that they can still hide their face in. they wear more black and white now, but not in a super high-contrast way; they wear more midshades than siffrin, and less patterns than isabeau. it's all about the variety, lightless and darkless and everything between, draped fabric and lace and ruffles and accessories! their favorite necklace is made out of their five favorite rocks (one to represent each party member, they're finally willing to admit aloud), and they've switched to one nice big bag with plenty of pockets for their various things.

siffrin stuck with the same old outfit for a long time. but just like how having their body forcibly changed made them desperate to change it themself, loop's more experimental and particular about their fashions now as well. they're figuring out who they are, and by the stars they're gonna go full self-expression about it!

[radioisntdead]

After extermination day

Hazbin hotel x reader with some Alastor x reader

Warnings: :]

Song used

Wake up, say good morning to

The hellish daylight shined through the curtains and onto your sleeping face, effectively waking you up, you stretched out your limbs.

That sleepy person lying next to you

You turned onto your side to see if he was there, sleeping off his injury like he was supposed too.

If there's no one there, then there's no one there

He wasn't.

You let out a sigh as you crawled out of bed and sluggishly made your way to get ready for the day.

But at least the war is over

You could faintly hear Niffty chasing after something in the halls from just outside your room, despite the hotel being rebuilt better then ever it still had the occasional roach come in.

It's us, yes, we're back again

You eventually made your way down the halls, you never thought that you'd miss the way the original hotel looked, it was a little worse off but you grew used to it, maybe you were growing a little too sentimental.

Here to see you through, 'til the days end

"Morning Charlie, Vaggie!" You greeted the couple with a grin as they returned the greeting before passing by you, probably to drag the king of hell out of his room that despite only living in the hotel for barely half a week already had a concerning amount of rubber ducks overflowing in his room.

And if the night comes, and the night will come

"Morning Angel," You passed by Angel who instead of waking up like the others was returning from a late night at the studio, things had changed yes, but not everything had.

"Night' toots." He yawned before throwing open his rooms door, you could hear Fat nuggets squeal at his owner's return.

You continued on down the halls, eventually passing by the tribute painting of Sir Pentious.

"Morning Pentious." You brushed a hand over the frame that held the painting, you all knew that there was a large chance that you wouldn't live to see another day, but you didn't expect Pentious to go out the way that he did.

You missed your dear friend, you could only hope that he was at peace wherever he ended up.

Well, at least the war is over

Husk had his head in his arms, sleeping at the bar, cradling a bottle in his paw.

Cherri bomb was having a mind numbing conversation with the last remaining egg boy, you decided not to interrupt and continued your way to find a certain deer.

Lift your head and look out the window

Rosie stared outside the window of her emporium, watching as cannibal children played in the streets and as the older people chatted like any other day.

Cannibal town had lost many that day, funerals were prepared, people were injured, some injuries would never be fully healed, many mourned for their losses of friends, family, lovers.

Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go

But yet it still thrived, just like any other extermination day, not everyone survived it.

Listen, the birds sing, listen, the bells ring

Rosie let out a sigh as she saw Susan strolling up to the emporium, wearing an exorcists wings as a new fashionable shawl.

All the living are dead, and the dead are all living

No one would outright say it but they were surprised that Susan of all cannibals survived and came out without even a scratch.

The war is over and we are beginning

Fear the old lady.

Gridlock on the parkway now

The Vee's carried on business as usual, Vox was especially disappointed that Alastor had, in fact not died, and was instead thriving! He wanted to do unmentionable things to the radio demon.

All totally murder related of course!!

The television man is here to show you how

Katie killjoy and the other guy, what was his name? Tom French? Trench? did an segment on whatever the newest chaos was happening in hell as per usual.

The channel fades to snow, it's off to work you go

Valentino was unfortunately still alive, hopefully he would get taken out soon enough, maybe by Susan, she could use a another shawl.

But at least the war is over

"Are you fuckin' kidding ME?!" The first man screamed as he grabbed and pulled on the horns that were attached to his head, ignored by the majority of sinners that passed by.

Turns out holding mass murders yearly no matter the reason, was still a sin, and the first man, once a winner, was now a sinner.

A filthy, disgusting, no good sinner.

Hell hadn't changed much, or at all since extermination day, there was some anxiousness in the air of what will the next extermination day hold? Will it ever come? Heaven on the other hand.

She's gone, she left before you woke

Lute was still angry and still missing an arm, she wasn't getting that back anytime soon, especially since her prosthetic wasn't done yet.

As you ate last night, neither of you spoke

She would sometimes feel her missing arm although it wasn't there anymore, the pain would be unbearable, but it didn't compare to the pain she felt from the lost of Adam.

Dishes, TV, bed, the darkness filled with dread

She kept his Halo on her nightstand, it was... Comforting to have.

But at least the war is over

Sera was shocked that Charlie's redemption idea was successful, sinners could be redeemed.

Lift your head and look out the window

Many thoughts went through her head, was it a good idea? It was possible yes, Sir Pentious was pure proof of that, but was it a good idea? Surely there were sinners that no matter what they did would never truly be redeemed, like Valentino for example.

But then there were sinners that could be redeemed, like Sir Pentious.

It would take time for her to fully accept that things were changing, that sinners could be redeemed, that allowing Adam to hold the exterminations was a horrible idea, how many sinners that were murdered could've been redeemed? And how many of them couldn't?

But once she did accept it? How would she go about it? She did certainly owed not only Charlie a proper apology but Emily as well, withholding information from someone could be worse then a lie sometimes.

Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go

Emily was ecstatic that Charlie's redemption hotel was a success! Sinners could be redeemed!

She had so much fun showing Sir Pentious around and getting him situated in his new place of residence, one day Charlie could visit again, and see that her dreams were a success!

Emily couldn't wait for that day to come.

Listen, the birds sing, listen, the bells ring

Sir Pentious didn't know what exactly he was expecting to happen when he selflessly sacrificed himself for the hotel, double hell? Permanent darkness maybe, but not heaven, he didn't expect to have a whole color palette change.

All the living are dead, and the dead are all living

He missed his friends Family at the hotel, he missed the times they shared, but at least he had some of his egg Bois with him, oddly enough they were now hard boiled but they were there.

It would take him awhile to get used to everything but he was slowly getting comfortable, he even made a friend other then Emily, a spider winner by the name of Molly.

The war is over and we are beginning

She oddly enough reminded him of Angel dust, maybe it was the spider appearances?

We won, or we think we did

"Morning Niff!" "Good mornin- oh! Outta the way!" You passed by Niffty who was still chasing that roach, you chuckled before continuing your way.

When you went away, you were just a kid

Climbing up the stairway to a certain deers new and improved radio station.

And if you lost it all, and you lost it

You opened the door, not bothering to knock, did no one teach you manners?

Alastor went on hosting his radio show, talking about whatever, you didn't really pay attention, only watching him as you leaned on the door way waiting for him to notice you.

Well, we'll still be there when your war is over

It didn't take long for him to do so, with a raised eyebrow he motioned for you to come in as he smoothly switched from talking to putting on music.

Lift your head and look out the window

"My dear! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He asked spinning around in his chair.

"You weren't in bed, Al, you're supposed to be resting," you moved towards him softly closing the door behind you.

Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go

"Nonsense my dear, I am perfectly fine, fit as a fiddle if I do say so myself!" You frowned at the radio deers words, you knew damn well he was not fit as a fiddle, he nearly reopened his stitches just the other night.

Listen, the birds sing, listen, the bells ring

He got up from his chair and held out his hand to you for you to take.

"Care to join me for a quick dance, Mon étoile?" He asked, a grin reluctantly spread out across your face as you took his hand.

All the living are dead, and the dead are all living

You missed the time before extermination day, you missed Sir Pentious, you missed the old hotel, if you could you would've cherished it more, but it was too late for cheesey sentiments like that, all you could do now was cherish the people in the new hotel now.

And focus on the lovely dance you were having with your still injured partner.

The war is over and we are beginning

Things were changing quickly, for better or for worse you were sticking with this hotel, with Charlie, with everyone in this place through it all.

Here it comes, here comes the first day

You didn't know it yet but after this dance Charlie would come bolting up the stairs excitedly letting the two of you know that a sinner wanted to join the hotel, and that the wall had been taken down and if Alastor could fix it because the duck man was distracted making ducks.

Here it comes, here comes the first day

Afterwards you and Alastor would go greet the sinner, a song would take place and beef would be beefed between the deer man and the duck man.

It starts up in our bedroom after the war

You wouldn't change any of it for the world.

It starts up in our bedroom after the war, after the war

Good evening folks! Guess who finally posted angst ON ANGST WEDNESDAY FOR ONCE HAHAHAHAAH SUCK IT PROCRASTINATION,

This is more bittersweet than angst though but we don't talk about that, I wrote this in like two hours, like I hyper focused on this, I'm gonna schedule the fic IT BETTER POST THIS TIME OR IM BITING TUMBLR, As always thank you for tuning in and Goodnight folks!

pssssst! You should join our discord! You get to witness my 5 AM writing screams with snippets

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid Part 2

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing. Reader is a maid.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 1 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

🧹🧹🧹

You wake up to the Snake throwing you out of your cot.

"Witch! You dare to sleep in? Get up and start working NOW!" he yells at you.

You groan in pain as you try getting up and starting the day. The medicine Banner gave you is working wonders; you feel none of the pain and your wrist has significantly healed overnight.

You make your way to the kings wing when the Snake corners you against a wall.

"The king has asked me to send you another personal message." he sneers. Your eyes widen in fear when he suddenly slaps you across the face. You feel the wound in your lip split open again, the now familiar metallic taste filling your mouth. He grabs your cheeks with one hand and squeezes painfully.

"Watch your back, witch. I'm watching your every step." he threatens.

He throws you to the floor and walks away, as you gather your items and continue to the kings quarters, refusing to let him see you in pain.

Silent tears are brimming your eyes. You blink them away and take a shaky breath.

I don't know how much longer I can take this.

You manage to complete your tasks within the allotted time given you to by King Loki. You leave his wing with a long sigh of relief, praying that you never have to see him again.

A few weeks go by as you manage to do your work properly and on time to avoid the king. However, the guard Snake, seems intent on making you fail, on breaking you into submission. Without reprieve, he has consistently targeted you every night, to limit your capabilities. Your response and demeanour remains the same: silent and emotionless. As a result, the pain compounded, the prevention of your body to receive time to heal made you weaker. Last night was the worst, as you were too weak and in pain to fight back. You return to Banner, who provides you with more medication but insists that something must be done to stop them from this continuous abuse. You say nothing as you stare back at him, knowing there is nothing either of you can do. You've been sold to the crown to pay for your parent's debt and there was no way out.

The next day, you wake up in unbearable pain. You look in the mirror and curse at yourself. You eye is a deep purple, yellow and green on the outskirts where your nose and eyebrow is. You had fogotten to apply the balm last night, as you had slipped into unconsciousness after the traumatic events of the night.

You decide to wear a shawl over your head and to keep your eyes to the ground while you walk around the castle to the King's wing. You manage to get through most of the work without seeing anyone. When you get to the king's chambers, you close the door behind you and tighten the shawl around.

You start your work, slowly moving around. You still have a limp from the pain in your ankle after the guards had stomped on it the other night.

You work your way around his chambers, focused on cleaning the large windows. You're slowly stepping up on the tall stool with one foot and hanging the other in the air to avoid putting pressure on it. You slowly lift your arms but hiss in pain from the stretch of your bruised ribs. You're shaking with every movement as you clean. You're so focused on ignoring the pain and cleaning that the sudden sound of a throat clearing behind you makes you jump in fear. You yelp as you try to steady yourself but put too much pressure on your ankle and begin falling to the floor when you're suddenly wrapped in strong arms and behind helped back up onto your feet.

You see a flash of green as you're being pulled up and immediate know who it is. You look down at your shoes.

"Sorry darling, I didn't mean to scare you." Loki says with amusement.

You stay quiet as you stare at the floor. You feel his stare boring into you.

"Not much of a talker I see... very well, continue on with your work. I've been pleased so far, so please continue." He says as he steps to the side to let you get back to the windows.

From the corner of your eye, you see him grab the book from his night stand and sit on his bed.

He notices your hesitancy "Don't mind me, I will simply be reading. He turns his head down to the book.

You swallow thickly, anxiety seeping into your bones. All of the rumours you've heard of his cruelty creep into your mind and you start to shake. You force yourself to calm down and return to your work.

Keeping your down as you do not want him to see your bruises on your face, they're especially brutal this time. You turn to the stool and begin stepping up on it. Leaning on the wall, you put one leg up and look behind you quickly to make sure the king doesn't see you as you grip the wall and jump up a level of the stool on one foot. You keep the second foot flat on the stool, but put no pressure on it, to avoid suspicion and keep the pain at bay. You grab the cloth in your hand and stretch yourself slowly to reach the top of the glass and move your arm slowly side to side. You stretch too far and groaning loudly in pain as you retract and pause to take a deep breath. You don't dare look behind you. You know he heard you but you refuse to acknowledge it.

You try again and start cleaning the windows, moving your arm side to side and manage to finish without hissing out loud in pain. You're biting the inside of your cheek as you start lowering yourself from the stool. You pause to grip the wall again and hop down the first step, you miss it and instinctively put your pained ankle down to prevent from falling. As soon as your foot steps on the stool, you yelp in pain and jump off the stool, gripping the wall to steady yourself. Your head is down, you're breathing rapidly, knuckles turning white as you try to regulate your breathing.

You're so focused on waiting for the pain to go away that you don't hear Loki get up and walk up behind you until you feel his hand on your elbow.

You stiffen at the touch.

"Turn around." he orders you.

You feel tears forming in your eyes. This is it. He's going to send me to the dungeons and have me killed or tortured, or worse. You swallow hard and slowly turn around on one foot while staring at the floor.

"Look at me." he orders you again.

You slowly lift your head up and look at him. You see his eyes widen slightly and his jaw tick.

"What happened?" he commands.

His eyes are a deep green, you can see the emotion behind them.

What do I say? I can't tell him what's happening... he will never believe me. I'm a simple maid. Who am I to snitch or accuse a royal guard?

"I slipped and fell." you reply queitly.

A lie. He can taste it. He looks at you and slits his eyes as he ponders your answer.

"You mean to tell me, you slipped and fell in such a way that split your lip, gave you a black eye and seriously sprained your ankle almost the brink of it being broken?" he asks you incredulously.

"It was a very bad fall your highness." you say queitly.

He chuckles at your answer "You know I am the God of Lies and Mischief, and yet you still choose to lie to me. I do not take you for a fool. You speak eloquently, you seem somewhat educated and intelligent. Yet, you still lie to me."

You swallow thickly and sway slightly out of anxiety.

"Apologies your highness. It was not meant in ill-will."

He sighs deeply "I can smell Dr. Banner's healing balm on your skin. He created it for me, to numb the pain while I am at war. Why would a 'simple maid' such as yourself need the balm?....I will ask you one last time, what happened?"

You're shaking, his eyes look you up and down with concern.

You remain quiet. Too fearful to lie or say the truth.

He sighs deeply "You refuse to answer my question again? You understand the consequences of such disrespectful actions towards a royal. Why?" he questions.

You shift again "I can't lie if i remain quiet, your highness."

He stops and stares at you. He is shocked by your answer. His eyes shimmer and lips curly slightly into a smirk; he's impressed.

"Very well... You may leave now."

He watches you limp to the closet, put the supplies away and lower the shawl over your face again.

You bid him farewell and take your leave.

When you leave his chambers he can't help but wonder about you.

She lied. I know she did. Who does she fear so intently that she is willing to lie to her king for? Something isn't right here. Her eyes... they looked empty....

He paces his room and stares out his window, coming up with a plan to figure out what is happening within his kingdom's walls.

🧹🧹🧹

Part 3

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

[randomarttalent]

Apple family redesigns + Family tree

Original posts, info and links down below Keep reading

Apple "Jacqueline" Jack + Rainbow Dash

Apple "Jacqueline" Jack I've added some extra colors to her mane, as I think the design could be pushed further without making her unrecognizable. The extra features I have added are also to make her design more interesting, as well as a call back to her work at the farm. 

I wanted her design to look feminine but also masculine, as that is something I feel fits her character. 

Rainbow Dash Dash's whole color pallet has turned more dark and grey, as this is just a personal taste of mine. Her body features have turned sharp, as a way to show her speed and as a pegasus body type.

She still works for the Wonderbolts as a captain, her badge shows this. Dash is still very adventurous and bold, pushing herself further than she probably should.

Big McIntosh + Sugar "Cube" Bell

Big McIntosh I've darkened his whole pallet, as I wanted him to contras his siblings. I personally also like the fan canon that he's either trans/a drag queen, which he is here in All Love No War AU. So once all the work is done, Big Mac can let his more feminine colors out, which his wife very much supports. She gets to make him pretty and make him feel like his true self.

Sugar "Cube" Bell I've greyed her whole pallet and made her figure more long, as that's the way I draw unicorns. I've shortened her hair and let it loose, as I think it would change with time and all the kids she's had. Plus her working now at the farm and long hair would get stuck on a lot of things. Both are happily married and have been for years now. They have learned to work around their faults and love each other deeply and never would pick another.

Tender Taps + Apple Bloom

Tender Taps Taps is still a dancer but he's now become a backstage dancer. Working with ponies such as Sweetie Bellè, Coloratura "Colorful" and even Songbird Serenade. After passing his exam he was recruited by Sapphire Shores personally and has worked under her ever since.

His whole pallet has been darkened and his markings are very sharp and frame his face. His mane is pretty much the same, it's just become darker and an extra line has been added. For his cutie mark, I've added a bowtie and some sparking but I didn't add much, as I felt it already fit him. The outfit he has on is for the next show, where the theme is more rock.

Apple Bloom Bloom has grown much in height, towering over everyone except her big brother Mac. She still works at the School of Friendship, teaching biology and about cutie marks with (Scootaloo) Speedy Scoot-"aloo".

I made her whole pallet warmer and all of her accessories soft in color. So even though she is extremely tall, she still feels welcoming and like a friend. I've added more color to her mane, making a gradient from a darker red to a pinkish one. Her cutie maker is now more about her talent than just the Cutie Mark Crusaders, the heart in the middle is what ties them together. After Goldie Delicious's passing, she decided to wear her shawl, in memory of her.

[thehardy-boys]

The Platform Part 6 (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Hey there! Thank you all again for your incredible kindness and encouragement! I'm so glad you are enjoying following this little story! I've tried to tag everyone who asked but if I've missed somebody please just let me know! Thank you all again for taking the time to read this!

Warnings: Finally some smut but literally not heavy...like hot kissing basically, vague talk of mental health problems

Part 6

Accompanied by Thomas’s pronouncement came Evelyn’s constant nagging. It got to the point where (y/n) finally snapped, “I don’t know! Please Evelyn, leave me alone so I can work.”

She huffed and sullenly returned to her desk and now (y/n) had to deal with the sour stares Evelyn gave her anytime they crossed paths.

It was true that (y/n) had no idea where she stood with the holiday party. She hated the idea of being surrounded by strangers, even worse upper class London strangers. This wasn’t really her area; never mind the fact she had nothing to wear to such an event. So, (y/n) never decided. She told herself she would think about it but when Saturday night came, and she found herself without realizing it hunting through her small closet and carefully placing her makeup it looked as if she had made her mind up a long time ago.

She took the evening train alone, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. (y/n) had brought a small book to read on the train, one that fit into her handbag. But she found herself much preferring to watch the window. The frantic blurring of the darkening landscapes. (y/n) had moved from London to Small Heath a few years ago now. She had always wanted to go back but never found the excuse. She was somewhat worried that if she ever visited, she might never come back.

The fancy hotel that the party was being held in wasn’t that far a walk from the train station. The streets were crowded with the London night life. (y/n) fit right in with her shimmering dress. With each step closer her pulse thrummed louder in her ears. Her palms started to sweat. She would stay an hour, just an hour. The butler graciously took her shawl when she entered the decorative building and she steeled herself before she walked past him into the lion’s den.

(y/n) had never seen anything like it before. The entire room was made out to be a winter wonder land. Hanging baubles, mistletoe, pine trees lining the room, fake snow resting on surfaces, and twinkling fairy lights hanging on the walls. It was overwhelming. This was how the other half lived.  She wasn’t standing alone for long before Evelyn swooped out from a mass of people to grab her arm and drag her into the swarming herds.

(y/n) found herself joining a group of chattering people and then Evelyn was nudging her pointedly. (y/n) looked around and found Thomas, already watching her, whiskey glass in hand, and cigarette already fuming. He licked his lips slowly, they glistened and (y/n)’s eyes were drawn to them like moth to flame. One could describe Thomas’s look as hungry bordering on ravenous. It tickled something inside of her, knowing that it was her that was teasing this out of him.

“Mr. Shelby,” She started, and his eyes raked over her face, body, “Ms. Lowe wanted to pick your brains about horses. She’s very interested in the races.” And with the conversation starter done she slipped away, over to the bar. She wasn’t exactly playing hard to get but something similar. The moment they shared in the field was prominent in her mind. The heat of his body. There was something unspoken between them, a tether, a rope, some kind of connection.

She ordered herself a whisky and rested against the bar. It wasn’t long before a gentleman made himself known to her. This dress was doing her wonders. He was kind and respectful. He worked for a paper importer. He was rich. His hair was brown but not the same brown as another man she knew. His eyes were brown, as well. And when she looked up into them occasionally during their chat she was always hit with a wave of disappointment. They weren’t the ocean she had grown use to. She wouldn’t have been able to find them on the platform. But she brushed it off. He was kind she reminded herself. That was already asking too much these days.

She felt his hand first, on her lower back before she caught the familiar scent of oak and smoke. Then his voice, “Do you mind if a borrow, Ms. (l/n)?”

The man in front of her, like a deer in the headlights shook his head and gave his best effort at a nonchalant smile. But he was afraid. If the devil of Small Heath asks something of you, you give him it and thank him for not taking your soul.

Thomas guided her through the crowds, the room heavy with people’s laughter and words. He opened the back door, leading them onto the balcony. (y/n) took a deep inhale of the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how starved she was indoors.

She went over to lean her forearms against the cold stone banister that overlooked lavish botanical gardens. Thomas came up to stand next to her and when she looked over, he already had a cigarette hanging between his lips. Carelessly.

“Did you need something, Mr. Shelby?”

He shook his head, “I though’ you looked bored.”

Now she shook her head, “I wasn’t. He was a nice man.” And she could see in her peripheral how he turned to look at her head on. She returned his stance, one hip leaning on the stone now.

He ran a hand roughly through his hair, disturbing the carefully styled sweep of it. He inhaled, exhaled the tar, and then threw the rest over the balcony to land in the swirling darkness below them.

“A nice man, eh?”

She nodded. He took a step forwards.

“What does that make me?”

She swallowed, eyes flickering over his form, “What does it matter what I think of you? You can be any kind of man you want.”

He clenched his jaw. And then he was suddenly all over her. Crowding her in, crowding her out. His chest meeting her own. The rough exterior of his jacket rubbing up against her. His legs on either side of her own, caging her in. His arms swallowing her torso, pulling her into him. His face inches away. He was the only thing she knew. The only thing she could feel. She gasped at his movements. Her arms coming up to his shoulders without anything else better to do. She saw his pupils blown wide, like two voids. They sucked her in. No hope of escaping. No hope.

“What kind of man do you want?” He asked her, his Birmingham accent heavy over his words. She could feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

“You want a nice man?” And he complimented his words by a gentle stroke up and down her back. The goosebumps breaking out over her skin at his movements.

“Or do you want a man who will make you feel something?” And with this he pulled her flush against him. So close she could feel his excitement for her. The heat of it. And she responded in kind, she pulsed for him. Eyes fluttering. Desire pooling heavily in her belly. It made her want to roll over and open for him. He watched her reaction, her eyes, then down to her partially opened mouth, and then down her neck to her chest. She knew her nipples were hard, and he licked his lips seeing their inviting shape through the softness of her dress.

Then he kissed her. It was different than the platform. The platform was about comfort, reassurance, something secret and unspoken. There was nothing unspoken about this. His lips enveloped her bottom one, sucking, tugging a little. Before she knew it, she had opened for him with a whimper, her hands tightening around his shoulders. His tongue swept in, warm and hot. He pushed himself further against her if that was possible. She responded by trying, in vain to move her hips a little, get some kind of friction but she was trapped between the stone and his own weight. She had to take whatever he was willing to give. And tonight, him seemed generous.

His mouth moved to her neck. Breathy kisses, biting that caused her to let out small moans before he soothed her with his tongue. He nibbled behind her ear and found a spot that drove her out of her mind.

“Mr. Shelby...” She whispered. Her hands trailing up the shaved sides of his head to anchor in his dark, dark hair.

He went further, followed her collarbone, and gently pushed the small straps of her dress down each shoulder and all at once she was exposed to both him and the cold night air. But she wasn’t cold for long. His mouth latching on to her right nipple. Licking and tasting. He molded his hand over the other. Then switched. He tweaked her other nipple, stroked it. She was out of her mind. Her body was pulsing with desire. It was raw and he was real.

“Please…” She clutched his hair, tugging.

“Please what?” He moved back up, chest, collarbone, neck, cheek, and lips. He stole her breath again with another kiss. Slotting their lips together, licking in, tasting her, savoring her.

Thomas drew back to take her in. She must look like a wreck. Lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and hair loosened. Not to mention her dress half way down her body. (y/n) watched him in turn. His lips were swollen and carried the hint of her own lipstick. His hair was a mess due to her pulling. But he was beautiful, still.

“Please what?” He asked again, his voice rough. His hands caressing her waist. He then carefully took each of her dress straps and dragged them back up to her shoulders, shielding her once again from the night air.

She opened her mouth to respond but the door behind them opened, “Mr. Shelby? Mrs. Chestisen would like to see you.”

Thomas made sure to adjust his body to hide her from the newcomer. He just turned his head to respond, “Alright. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He stepped back from her as the balcony door closed and the butler returned to deliver the message. Her lower back protested as she pushed away from the hard stone. (y/n) brushed down her dress and fixed her straps. She wasn’t entirely sure where she stood with Thomas. She wasn’t sure how she let it happen but what she did know is that she wanted more. More of that mouth. The hands and the warmth.

He offered her his hand, “Come with me.”

Mrs. Chestisen was the rich wife of a politician. She was curious about expanding her investments into the Shelby Limited or that’s what (y/n) gathered while sipping her drink and listening to Thomas and the lady chat. They had met in a back room, still decorated with the winter theme and still incredibly ornate with a personal bar. (y/n) wasn’t entirely sure why Thomas had bothered to invite her to the meeting. Thomas had led her through and offered her a drink. Mrs. Chestisen didn’t even bat an eyelash at her presence, in fact she hadn’t even acknowledged her before jumping into her business. She was an uptight lady, crisp white dress, shiny, pointed shoes, a dramatic Christmas brooch. Her hair looked like it had been glued in place. (y/n) didn’t like her.

“Ms. (l/n), wasn’t it?” (y/n) looked over from her position in front of a large panting on the other side of the room. Mrs. Chestisen had spoken to her. (y/n) walked over to the two of them. Thomas was leaning against the bar and the lady was sitting on one of the bar stools. Her back ram rod straight.

“Yes?” (y/n) stopped in front of her.

“Your brother, Matthew (l/n)?”

(y/n)’s blood ran cold. Matthew.

Thomas’s head looked over at her, taking in her sudden change of character.

“Yes?” Her voice soft.

Mrs. Chestisen smirked, “He served with my son. I heard what happened. I wanted to express my condolences.”

“Thank – ”

“Not that you need them.”

(y/n) blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, you should be.” Mrs. Chestisen snapped back.

Thomas looked between the two of them, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” (y/n) responded hoarsely. She was caught off guard. Who was this woman?

The lady slipped off her chair and walked towards her, “I’m talking about what you did to him, Matthew.”

“What I did to him?”

“That you killed him.” She hissed out, “When my son found out he was beside himself. I had to send him to a sanatorium for months, months. It tore my family apart!”

(y/n) stood stock still. Her blood turning to stone. Her heart thumping in her ears. A fire burning deep within her suddenly alighted.

Matthew. Poor Matthew. He came back from the war, but he was…different. Absent. Twisted. Gaunt. Haunted. He moved back to Small Heath to be with their mother. He needed family. He needed warmth but he was unraveling. Unraveling and when (y/n) moved back to take care of him he overwhelmed her. He fell apart in her hands as she desperately tried to put him back together again.

“Killed him!? I looked after him. I took care of him. I tried to help him but he, he couldn’t be saved. He couldn’t – I couldn’t help him. I didn’t know how.” Her breath came short, her fists clenched in anger.

Mrs. Chestisen scoffed, “It’s clear you couldn’t help him.”

(y/n) stood there in utter shock, in complete anger, “I don’t have to stand her and take this. I don’t have to stay here and listen to you judge me, re-write the past. I don’t know you. I don’t owe you an explanation.” (y/n) left and she didn’t spare a glance at Thomas because she had a feeling. A terrible, terrible feeling.

She pushed through the crowds, the throngs, she ignored the heavy tones of Christmas carols and the sharp scent of nutmeg and cinnamon. She dodged Evelyn’s outstretched hands, and she broke out into the lobby. The butler placed her shawl around her shoulders and bid her a goodnight, but she couldn’t stop. The freezing winter night slapped her in the face, and she took a deep breath to steady her trembling hands. She was so angry. That lady had no right to speak to her like that. To say his name, to accuse her. (y/n) felt rubbed raw, split open.

She walked further up the street debating the options of catching a late train or just ordering a car but then she heard him call for her.

“(y/n)!” He came down the front steps of the lavish building and walked briskly over to her. His arms reaching out to her, and they just brushed her waist before she walked backwards to maintain their distance.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” (y/n) hissed at him, clutching her shawl tighter around her. Their moment on the balcony seemed miles away now. The desire she had felt for him, that had pulled her forward into his arms was iced over. She felt humiliated.

“Don’t touch me.” She repeated softer and he held up both his hands as a sign of acceptance, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“Just let me explain—”

“No, No, I don’t think I need an explanation. You knew she knew me. You knew that she knew my brother, didn’t you. You used me. All this time, then? All this fucking time? I’m sick of people taking my life apart. I’m tired of people telling me what happened. I know what happened!” Her voice broke and she trembled under the dark gaze of the winter air. Thomas made a move to walk forward but she shook her head. His face was unreadable, indifferent and it angered her.

“You’re a terrible man. To use my brother against me. I didn’t kill him.” She whispered out feebly into the street, “I didn’t kill him.”

Thomas stood there; his mouth slightly parted at her tirade. His breath came out and clouded around him.

“I regret it.” (y/n) broke the building silence between them, “I regret that moment on the platform. I regret tonight.”

She turned and walked back up the dark road to the train station. She caught the last train to Small Heath. She sat and looked out the window, but it was so dark out there that she could only see her own reflection. She had been right all along, silly girl, stupid girl.

Part 5 --- Part 7

Tags: @black-kitten-imagines, @illuminwtesz, @slutforcoffein, @madeinuk, @in0320, @globetrotter28, @txmxav, @christina-who,

[anemonelovesfiction]

How To Make A Net

Rotxo x Human! Y/n

If y’all havent noticed I love writing x human reader stuff, idk why, I just do. Please remember that this has smut in it and if it has smut, the characters are of age! And if for some reason I ever forget to mention it with the metkayina characters I Always make sure to express that they have tattoos somewhere

Unless stated otherwise, Pandora has breathable air for the human character. Reader is AFAB! This isn’t proofread at all so sorry for any mistakes I just wanted to post this to focus on another fic 😉😉

P in V, thigh riding, fingering, oral, lotsa stuffs

Word count: 6.1K

Noticing him was easy. He was kind, timid, but sweet. I would notice how he’d almost always drop his three younger sister off to their lessons before going off to do a bit of dive work or hunting on his own. He’d typically started providing for his family on an occasion since his fathers injury. He was always thinking about other people and constantly looking out for everyone. It made my heart race when he’d ask how everyone was- including me. Even if I was an outcast for the most part, due to being human, but he was nice enough to ask.

I sigh as I’d allowed myself to continue spacing, daydreaming was not on the schedule for today and I’d known that since waking up, but sometimes couldn’t stop myself whenever there was a small break. I sighed while picking up the basket of fruits I’d gathered for the party.

“How are you still on your second basket?” Kiri asks as she hands me another empty one.

“I’m human, Kiri,” I remind her and she shakes her head.

“You’d be on your fifth one by now. You always race with Spider, wheres your head at today?” She asks while grabbing two empty baskets from my pile- which was less than what anybody else would be assigned. Some days I’d go above and beyond and collect as much fruit as any other Metkayina, but they knew humans limits were below theirs and tried not to overwork us. She starts climbing the tree’s to collect more of their fruit, taking her hunting knife out of its holder, and rustling through the leaves.

“Why are you helping me, you have your own chores to-“

“I’ve finished them.” She comes down with a handful and fills up half the basket and I’m the slightest bit pissed that I couldn’t do that.

“How are you able to do that? I wish I had your body.” I start climbing up the tree next to hers. If we were being honest, I’m sluggish compared to Kiri, but if you compare me to any other human, I’m quick.

“My size helps, but your body is nothing to despise, Y/n.” Kiri smiles. I can see Rotxo coming from behind her with a net in his hands, no doubt coming to ask Kiri for help again. I can’t help but look down at his thighs. They had tattoo’s on them which was rare for the men to have as they usually had face and arm tattoo’s.

“Hey Kiri, could I ask for your help?” He’s so sweet when asking and patiently waits for her response.

“What’s wrong with it this time?” She asks as she places her hunting knife back in its holder, holding her hands out for him to show her.

Kiri was an amazing weaver, but was better at making blankets or even shawls, like the one she most often wears around her shoulders during the cool mornings, but she’s hit or miss with nets. Tuk is surprisingly very skilled but has no patience to weave one unless she wanted to, she has an affinity for making necklaces, armbands, and other jewelry. The armband I had was one she made for me when we still lived with the Omaticaya, she made a matching one for Spider.

I resist the urge to jealously roll my eyes and decide to let them have their privacy as I climb the tree, I have great balance and managed to pull the fruit from the tree, cut the stem to get it off, and climbed halfway down before tossing it into the basket making sure not to do it from too high as it could bruise and ruin the fruit.

“I’m telling you, it’s not worth salvaging if every few days another piece breaks off.” Kiri says as I head back up and I wanna punch the air so bad right now, but I refrained.

“Y/n, how are you still on your first chore?” Spider asks while taking one of the baskets that Kiri took from my stack and settling it on the bottom of another tree.

“Why is everyone commenting on my lack of effort today?” I grumble and toss the fruit I’d just cut and watch it hit the branch he was next to.

“I could have died!” Spider yells like the drama queen he is.

“Thats for wrapping my umbilical cord around my neck-“

“You always bring that shit up, I didn’t even know I was alive Y/n, let it go!” He bickers back.

“Well clearly you knew enough about assassination attempts, it’s a good thing you failed.” I huff and look up in time to see the same fruit I’d thrown at him hit the branch next to me. As it rolled down to the ground below, I could see both of the bruises we caused.

“Stop wasting fruit you two!” Kiri yells.

“Tell your whatever-you-are to knock it off.” I answer back.

“Tell your best friend she’s an idiot.” Spider bites back while moving on to another tree, basket already a third of the way full. Shit, everyone was faster than I was today, I might be coming down with something.

“You know he likes you right?” I ask Kiri waiting for Spider to be out of an earshot.

“Who are you talking about?” Kiri asks while rolling her eyes, but entertaining me with a smile.

“Both actually, but I was talking about Rotxo.” I stated while finally filling my third basket.

“No he doesn’t,” Kiri waves me off but I laugh a little.

“He comes to you every time his nets break, no one else.” I stated.

“That doesn’t mean he likes me-“

“He comes to you, only talks to you, he’s smitten with you,” I conclude and carry my basket over to where they were supposed to be dropped off. She follows me with her full basket and Spider is started to finish up his.

“Why don’t you make him one?” Kiri asks and I blush.

“I’m human, I can’t weave to Metkayina proportions, it would take me forever, and wouldn’t that be considered a courting gift?” I stated.

“Wait, what does you having to be a human have to do with anything?” She asks and I laugh.

“They don’t trust humans, why would they accept a gift from us? I’m surprised they let us handle food most days, but thats probably because someone is always watching us.” I stated.

“They trust you, you have proven yourselves.”

“Sure-“

_________

And here I was, sitting down in our marui, listening to Tuk’s instructions on weaving a net. The material was somewhat harsh on my fingers as I listened to her explain when to pull what and where. I finished off the fourth row and can already tell the squares were too small, meaning there’d be more of them than there should be, meaning I’d use up more of the material.

“What am I doing wrong Tuk?” I asked as I look up at her to see her looking out of the Marui and toward the splashing coming from the water below. I sigh quietly and want to kick myself in the head.

“I’m not sure,” Tuk shrugs and looks back at me.

“Alright, thats it, go on.” I shoo at her with my hands and she giddily stands up, turns around to leave but lets her shoulders fall and turns back around.

“But we need to make a net-“ She begins walking back but I place my hand on her chest stop her and she does.

“I forget to let you be a kid sometimes, I can ask you during another time when you’re actually wanting to make a net. Now go enjoy your free time before tonights party.” I reassure her and she nods, hugging me and lifting me as I stood on tippy toes.

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll be back!” She promises before heading on the walkway and diving off into the water from there. She scares me when she does that most days.

“I thought I heard you here,” Spider says while walking toward me and squatting next to me.

“What do you want?” I asked while untying the net I’d just failed at making.

“The rest of us are going to hang out at the spot if you wanted to come,” he offers and looks at the net I’d started unweaving. “Whats that you’re making?” He asks and I show him whats left of it.

“A failure. But it doesn’t matter, I can’t make it to the correct proportions. Also I can’t hang today, I’m on babysitting duty.”

“Tuk’s in good hands-“

“And Neytiri would skin me alive, Jake would give me a lecture, Kiri would side with her parents, and you’d stay silent.”

“What about Lo’ak?” He asks as if it was unfair I’d let him off the hook.

“Making out with Tsireya,” I let out a laugh and he does too.

“Did you wanna bring Tuk with?” He asks.

“No, she needs time to be with her friends, plus I need some time to think.” I admit.

“You sure?” He asks again and I laugh lightly.

“Go impress Kiri and leave me alone, monkey boy.”

“Fuck off-“ He hides his blush by looking away but I saw his smile. He stands and starts running off. “See you tonight!” He yells as he runs.

I sigh and wrap up the material I was using back into a rolled up ball before sighing, sitting at the opening of the marui with my legs crosses as I looked off at Tuk playing with some girls. Too far into my own thoughts to hear someone come up until I see teal skin. I look over towards the legs and my eyes roam up at familiar tattoo’d thighs, lingering on them before going back up to his face.

“I’m sorry, did you say something Rotxo?” I asked and offered a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as water drips from his hair and I’d failed to notice he was wet, he was probably in the water just now.

“I have to babysit Tuk until Neytiri or Jake come back, sorry I couldn’t hang out with you guys.” I apologize and he seems confused.

“I’m watching my sisters so I couldn’t hang out either.” He explains and sits next to me. I furrow my brows and hear the high pitched laughter and yelling coming from the water near us. I peer over and notice Tuk playing with his sisters and I feel embarrassed for not having noticed earlier.

“Your mind has been elsewhere all day, are you okay?” He asks and outstretches his hand to feel my forehead and my eyes widen at the gesture, my body getting rigid.

“Sorry-“ He immediately takes his hand away from my head as soon as he notices my facial expression change.

“N-no it’s fine, I just didn’t think you would want to touch me,” I stated and realize how bad it sounded after it came out of my mouth.

“Why would I be afraid to touch you? You are not ill, right?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No!” I want to slap myself for yelling. “I’m not sick, at least I don’t think I am.” I reassured him.

“Then why would I not want to touch you?” He asks again.

“Because I’m tawtute.” I responded honestly and the look that flashed through his eyes was indescribable, but was gone as soon as it came.

“I do not care that you are tawtute.” He smiles.

“You’re a nice friend, Rotxo.” His face falls after my statement and before I can ask him what was wrong, he speaks.

“What were you doing earlier?”

“Oh, before you came up here?” I asked and he nods. “I was asking Tuk to teach me to weave a net, but I was failing, so I untied it.” I explained, holding up the string I’d already untied to show him.

“I can show you,” He offers and the smile is plastered back on his face.

“I thought you couldn’t weave nets, isn’t that why you always go to Kiri when yours breaks?” I asked and his ears immediately flatten against his skull, his tail thumps a couple times, how cute!

“I have been learning to fix the same net, not to make a new one, but I can help you make a new one.” He explains and I nod.

“I don’t want to waste your time since you’re watching your sisters-“

“It’s okay, I can hear them from here. If they need any help they know to call to me and I’ll be there. And they haven’t done that yet.” He flickers his ears and I nod, slowly smiling.

“Show me how you do it.” He asks and I begin by doing everything Tuk has taught me, weaving the material around my fingers and once I pull it all together to tie off the first square, it becomes smaller than it needs to be. I sigh in frustration and show him, he’d taken to look over my shoulder as I did that.

“Oh I see what is- uh- how do I say this nicely.” He stops to think before looking back at my face.

“Just tell me, please.” I beg.

“Your four fingers are getting in the way, and when you get them caught on the string, it tugs the loop, making it smaller. You need to trust yourself and stop using the middle one so much.” He says and I furrow my brows, look at the palm of my hand, then face it toward him.

“I can’t remove them and how do I trust myself?” I asked and he gently places his pointer finger and thumb on the tip of my middle finger, grasping it, and gently tugging it.

“Stop using this one, Y/n.”

“Yes. But how?” I ask.

“Let me show you, may I?” He asks and holds his other hand out to take the string from me. I hand it to him as he unties the square I’d made.

“I can’t see what you’re doing unless I’m looking over your shoulder but you’re pretty tall and-“

“Come.” He states and grabs me by my waist, sitting me on his lap, my own thighs coming to contact with his muscular ones and I bite my lip at being this close in proximity to him. It felt hard to breathe.

“Just look at my fingers.” He states while talking me through the process and I felt myself shift uneasily in his lap but focused either way.

“Now you try,” He hands me the finished square he’d made and I begin to do the same movements I saw him do and struggle to keep my middle finger out of it but when I did, the square matches his and I gasp, bounce giddily, and turn to show him.

“I did it!” I exclaimed happily.

“I knew you could do it.” He smiles gently and I bounce from the happiness and feel his hands on my hips, I fight a blush and turn to look at him with a questioning gaze.

“Stop bouncing so much,” He groans and seems like he’s in pain. My face switches to worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ And thats when I felt why he’d told me to stop. I can’t find any other place to look at except his face and his eyes were closed, as if he were ashamed for what transpired.

“Rotxo,” I place my hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes, but darts them the other way. “It’s okay, this happens with humans too.” I explained with a small smile.

“Do you want me to get off or stay here?” I ask and he glances back up at me, hands still on my hips, I’m unable to move unless he lets go. He doesn’t say anything so I try again.

“Okay, uhm, do you need help to make it go down or-“ His eyes find mine and I’m stuck staring at them. They were always such a beautiful hue like the ocean, but not, at the same time.

“Yes,” It was so low I almost missed him say it at all.

“Okay-“ I state again but his hands have yet to move from my hips and I can almost feel the permanent impression his hands were making on my body. “Do you want me to use my hands, my mouth, my feet?” I asked while thinking of the many different ways to jerk men off there was in porn.

“Feet?” He asks and I nod.

“Is that what you want?” I asked and he shakes his head.

“I can start with my hands,” I show him my palms as best I can with how he’s holding me and he nods sheepishly. He gently lets go of my hips and places his palm on the floor. I turn my body to face him and he looks at me in confusion.

I sit on his lap and face him again and his confusion is evident but very cute. I grab his hands again and place them on my hips.

“I’m going to kiss you, when you feel ready, move my hips over your- yeah.” I explain and he seems to understand, I grab his face in my hands and caress his cheeks, looking intensely into his eyes, then in to capture his lips in my own. I could hear him grunt and his fingers are grasping me tighter.

I moved my lips against his, the blush and heat consuming my face was unmistakable, but I continued moving my lips against his own before swiping my tongue on his bottom lip, he groans and moves my hips over his groin and I moan. With our mouths still connected, he caresses my bottom lip as he grinds me over himself, making me gasp, moving his tongue in. I could feel him searching around my mouth, fighting my tongue for the dominance I gave up easily.

“You feel so warm on me-“ He disconnects our mouths and places his forehead on mine while still grinding me on his penis.

“This feels so good-“ I pant and use my hands to squeeze his forearms to try gain some kind of balance on myself. My legs were spread over his thighs as he moved me and the angle was starting to rub my clit deliciously over his hardened member. He sneaks his nose into the crook of my neck and takes big huffing sniffs, this tickles my neck and causes goosebumps to take over, it also makes me moan loudly.

“Rotxo~” Unbeknownst to be I’d said that right in his ear and he grunts. “L-let me use m-my hands now-“ I panted, struggling to string the sentence along.

“I prefer you like this, saying my name like that. Say it again, Y/n.” He sounds demanding and it’s making me become a puddle.

“Rotxo, I don’t think I can- fuck,”

“You can fuck, you can definitely fuck.” He grunts and slides me off his lap. I whine at the loss but see him undo his loincloth, he manages to shift it off himself and staring back at me is an angry teal colored cock, the tip is a darker teal but I’m assuming it’s started to turn a darker shade due to the thrusting. The head is bulbous and thicker than the shaft but still relatively the same size. Theres no way I’d fit the entirety of that in my mouth but I lick my lips subconsciously at the sight.

My eyes nervously travel toward his and back down at his dick. I’m shocked at how big it is but get on my knee’s in front of him and reach over slowly. I grasp it gently, my entire fist wraps around but my fingers never meet, and I’m shocked, I bite my lip and look back at him to see him already staring at me.

“I-I’m going to move m-my hands now.” I stutter through my sentence and drag my hand up slowly, he’d produced enough precome for my hands to glide on him smoothly. I reach the head and I could feel my fingers separate further.

“Fuckin Hell you’re huge-“ I mutter in English, completely transfixed on the size, I couldn’t believe I was touching his dick.

“Thank you,” He mutters back in Na’Vi and I look back at him in shock.

“You’re welcome-“ I respond back in Na’Vi. I slide my hand back down his length and watch how seems to relax to my touch, but the second my hand is back on the tip I can see his body stiffen.

“Is the head sensitive?” I asked and he nods, I smile at the sight before me and pick up my pace. Making sure I pay extra attention to the head. He’s becoming more vocal and it’s making me wetter than when he was grinding on me. But I had to pay attention to his needs at the moment.

“I need to come-“ He grunts and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to.

“Its okay, Rotxo, you can come.” I mutter but he shakes his head.

“Need more-“ He whines and I somehow understand what he means.

I’d long since been using my two hands to twist around the head of his cock, one on top of the other, but I figured he wanted more, so I leant my head down to lick the tip of his cock, then using my tongue to graze the length before placing as much of the tip as I could in my mouth and when I came to catch my breath, he spurt his come on my chest.

“Thats a lot of come,” I mutter but still use my hands to continue pumping his length as he comes. Once he’s done I let go, his chest is heaving and I swear it’s doing something to me but I can’t indulge in this. I knew I’d caused this problem so I fixed it, I shouldn’t be greedy and expect the same treatment but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it.

“Come here,” He motions for me when he’s caught his breath and is sitting up again. He kisses me while placing his hands on my hips again. It wasn’t until I felt the cold air slapping my slick that I realized he’d taken the liberty of untying my loincloth and slid it off my body.

“Sit-“ He tells me as he lifts me up and sets me on his thigh. I could feel the goosebumps take over, but being turned on by his skin on my sensitive thighs that I moaned loudly, fuck I didn’t mean to.

“You’re very warm, Y/n.” He kisses my neck and glides me on his thigh, I’m ashamed to say watching him come made me wetter, but the trail I’d left on his thigh was embarrassing. He coo’s while lifting my chin up to look at him, the blush covering my face was unbelievable, and I knew because of how hot it had gotten.

“Did I make you this wet?” He asks but he doesn’t need an answer, but I nod anyway.

“You’re so cute when you are stunned, but I prefer if you called out my name like you did earlier.” He slides me back and the friction has me biting my lip, his thigh felt so nice rubbing in my clit.

“You know, I always catch you staring at my thighs,” He grumbles in my ear once I’m closer to him.

“Rotxo~” I moan in embarrassment and pleasure.

“Yeah, just like that.” He coo’s, gently sliding me by my hips, making sure to tilt them at an angle to continue rubbing on my sensitive nub.

“Please Rotxo,” I whine and he stops.

“Please what?” He asks teasingly.

“Use your hands,” I find it hard to tell him what I want, but thats exactly what he wanted me to say.

“Do you want to come too?” His breath fans on my neck and his voice is making me feel hotter.

“Yes,” I sounded breathy but he lays me down and switches his position quickly, bending in front of my pussy and he takes a whiff, my cheeks redden.

“You smell so good-“ He groans. He rests his palm on my mound, his fingers touching my lower belly, and his thumb dips down to rub slick over my clit and I sigh happily.

“You’re such a good girl Y/n,” He coo’s and I gasp at his words.

“I knew you liked praise, You’re doing so well on just my thumb alone, aren’t you?” He asks and I nod.

“Are you ready for my fingers?” He asks sweetly.

“Yes, rutxe,” I beg. He slides one in and I sigh happily as he pumps it in, filling me up.

“Look at you enjoying my hands, hmm.” He’s enjoying this as much as I was.

“Do you think you could finish quick?” He asks in a steady voice, but his ears were flickering. “I think the girls are done swimming.” He explains and my eyes widen.

“Don’t worry they’re still on the beach, but they won’t take l long to come here.”

It had taken me until now to realize he hadn’t stopped pumping his finger in me and I whine. He’s changed the angle of his fingers until I let out a low moan and he smiles happily to himself. He slides a second finger in and continues to abuse that spot.

“Rotxo, don’t stop!” I whisper yell at him as he continues to pump his fingers in.

“I don’t plan to, sweet girl, but I need you to come soon.” He smirks above me and I moan a little louder without meaning to.

“You’re taking my fingers well, little one. But I’m going to help you out,” He uses his other hand to rub my clit as he continues to pump his fingers.

“Oh fuck~” I whine, somehow managing to meet the thrusts of his fingers with my hips.

“Thats it sweet girl, come for me, come on my fingers.” He coo’s again and I’m a mess, but I come on his fingers, gripping them like a vice as he coaxes my orgasm out so sweetly. His fingers don’t stop until I’m spent, he brings them out of me and tastes them rather quickly, before fighting to place his loincloth on, I hazily stare at him as he does this and he rushes to put mine on. As soon as he sits me up and his hands come away from my waist is when I hear the footsteps coming on the walkway.

“-and thats how you make the first couple squares.” He states randomly and I look into his hand and see what we made of the net.

“Rotxo is teaching you instead!” Tuk exclaims as her face comes into view and I make an apologetic face.

“Sorry Tuk, he offered and I thought it would be nice to let you swim with your friends instead of bugging you,” I stand and my cum is spreading on my inner thighs

“Come on, I’m sure they have to get ready for tonight too,” Rotxo gathers his sisters and heads out. “We’ll see you guys later,” He smiles sweetly and waves.

“See you guys later!” Tuk happily yells after her friends.

“We’ll need to shower Tuk, lets grab our things.” I stated and she nods and grabs everything. Just as I turn I see Rotxo’s face peering over the entrance. I make a face and he waves me over with his hand, I walk over and he plants a kiss on my mouth.

“Thank you, Tiyawn, I’ll see you later to finish what we started.” He kisses me again and follows behind his sisters once more.

Finish what we started? But we already finished… I thought to myself but shook the thought out of my head and headed out with Tuk.

_________

The party started off with ritualistic singing, dancing, and a speech about what they were celebrating. It was nice to understand their rituals, some of the holidays the Omaticaya had were similar, but this one wasn’t. They’re partying to celebrate the warriors and tulkun that died during the humans attacks.

I sat back and observed everyone else dance and sing. Their songs consisted of mighty warriors who died in battle and thanking Eywa for allowing them to have someone so strong during that time. One song in particular had me in my feelings about the life cycle of the tulkun and becoming spirit brothers or sisters with the Metkayina being some kind of rite of passage for the children of the tulkun. I knew as Ronal sang it and her people join she couldn’t help the tears welling up in her eyes, but she smiled as she sang it, she really loved her.

“Why aren’t you joining the party?” I turn to see none other than Rotxo sit next to me.

“I don’t dance,” I stated simply.

“But you do dance,” He whispers in my ear and my face heats up at his comment.

“Come,” He stands, holding his hand out for me to grab, so I take it. He rushes off toward the wooded area on the island and walks further in.

“Where are we going?” I asked and he finally stops.

“To finish our dance from earlier today,” He teases and places his hands on my hips again, leaning down to capture my lips in his.

“Bit we did finish,” I stated confused.

“Yes, but not how I wanted,” He kisses down my neck and I could feel the tingles of my stomach start making their way down toward my clit.

“H-how did you w-want to f-inish,” I stutter as he sucks on my pulse point.

“Inside you,” He mutters and kneels down but picks me up as he kisses down my chest.

“Rotxo~” I moaned as he takes his time kissing down my chest.

“Yes?” He asks cockily and smirks. He sneaks a hand under my shirt and fondles my breast, making sure to gently roll my nipple between his fingers. I suck in a breath and involuntarily grind my cunt in his growing cock.

“Please, I need you,” I pant at the sensation and can’t bring myself to stop repeating it, his hands shift down to my hips and keeps moving me along him.

“You’re such a good girl Y/n, already so needy for me,” He asks and I moan in response, he thrusts back with his own hips and I let out a high pitched moan.

“Why don’t you use your words for me, hmm?” He’s tilting my chin so I look at him but I could tell my eyes were half lidded and it was hard to think coherently.

“Inside me, inside.” I repeat while focusing on his cock rubbing on my clit through our clothes. The friction of the soft loincloth over my clit was starting to become dull and unsatisfactory, my breath coming out labored.

“Thats all you had to say sweet girl.” Rotxo stops his ministrations and unties my loincloth with a flick of his fingers and unties his own. I’ve never been happier to see his thick cock again.

“I have to use my fingers so this doesn’t hurt, okay?” He asks and I nod my head. “Good girl, now lay down.” He instructs and I do so, making sure to lay on the soft grass underneath me.

“I’m going to worship you with my tongue, be as loud as you want to be, nobody will interrupt us here.” He states before placing his face down between my legs and oh my Eywa I could feel his tongue prodding around before concentrating on my clit and my body had a mind of its own as I felt my legs spreading on their own.

He gently caresses my sensitive thighs and I’m a mess, so much so I barely registered him inserting his finger while eating me out. He sloppily thrusts in as I beg him to insert the second one and he does. He pumps his fingers at the same angle as he did in the marui and I’m a whaling mess. Not forming any words just sounds.

“Yeah I like those sweet sounds you make for me.” Rotxo states while slipping his fingers out. I was close to an orgasm and wanted to look at him angrily but couldn’t contort my face to show him my emotions.

“I know, sweet girl, but I can fuck you dumb with my cock now.” He states and settles himself between my thighs. “The hardest part is starting, but it should feel better after, let me know if it’s too much for you and I’ll stop okay?” He asks and I nod my head. He pinches my thigh and it takes me out of my trance.

“I need you to let me know, princess, yes?” He asks and I nod again.

“Yes, sir.” I responded and he kisses my forehead after I verbally answered him.

He rubs the head of his cock in my slick and over my clit and I gasp at the feeling, its so warm, and huge. I can feel him stretching out my entrance with his cock and I whine at the feeling. It fucking hurts, but I don’t want him to stop, although I’m sure he could tell by the way I squeezed my legs on his sides.

“I know princess, I’m sorry, lemme help a bit.” He gently caresses my clit with his thumb, making sure to stop trying to thrust inward anymore, but refusing to pull out as well. I could feel the tingling return as he started rubbing my clit faster.

“Rotxo, faster, please-“ I pant as he continues rubbing my clit faster and I could feel the stretch commence again. It didn’t hurt as bad but the feeling of my fast approaching orgasm was stunted again.

“You’re so hot inside, makes me wonder how else I can take you,” Rotxo grunts while continuously rubbing my clit. “The hard part is over sweet girl.” He states and slides in a little faster than he had been earlier.

It doesn’t take long to feel his thighs on my ass as he fills me with his cock. And the sting of his head stretching me as he pulls out starts my orgasm timer over again. I was beginning to grow frustrated but knew it was impossible to form any words as long as he was rubbing my clit raw. But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to course through my body one he deliciously dragged his cock in the right way.

“Faster, please,” I begged and my eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure and he started thrusting faster in the same direction.

He was going at an incredibly fast pace, the feeling of his thumb on my clit was long gone as he wrapped his body around mine, not once faltering in his thrusts.

“Fuck! Ahh!” I yell and he’s grumbling praises in my neck, but hearing him talk how he was at this moment was the biggest turn on.

“I can feel you squeezing my cock like the dirty girl you are. So filthy, Yawne.” He groans and thrusts harder into me, making my walls crumble as I scream his name.

“Thats it baby, this pussy is mine.” He grunts.

“I’m gonna come~”

“Such a good girl Y/n,” He continues thrusting at the same pace. I can feel my walls flutter but not yet releasing my orgasm.

“Waiting for me, love?” He asks and I nod.

“Yes sir,” I subconsciously answer.

“Come with me,” He thrusts one more time and thats what tips me over the edge. My eyes had been closed for a long time but the white behind them was euphoric, it woke me up, yet made me drowsy at the same time.

“This’ll hurt a bit, my love, I’m sorry.” Rotxo says and starts to pull out but with the angle he was doing it in, I unexpectedly have my second orgasm, it ripples through my body as he slowly pulls out and I’m left contracting around nothing.

“I guess not,” He chuckles to himself while pushing my hair out of my face and my eyes flutter open, but they feel heavy.

“How was that?” He asks and kisses me gently. Lifting my body carefully to lay it on top of his.

“Incredible.”

“Now do you believe Kiri when she said I didn’t like her?” My face is red as a blush takes over. It doesn't take a genius to remember how well Na’Vi ears work, and although I said that comment within an earshot of Spider I forgot to account Rotxo.

[nilusanimationworld]

Since we're close now to get KFP4 updates soon...hoping next month (or april) I wanna talk/discuss about something(s)

So I was re-watching all the 3 movies & the shorts I actually realized & noticed couple of things 

Since we all know Oogway in the third movie tells Po about how he saw the future of Kung Fu the day they met right? And we see both Po & Tigress in his vision right? 

Followed by Oogway passing the torch (which is the staff in this case) saying Po is his true successor

Firstly let me start of by saying I love Po okay? Besides being Oogway's successor Po is definitely Shifu's golden student by achieving the Dragon Warrior title and all BUT here's the big question. Does Po also deserve to become Shifu's successor? Yes BUT ALSO NO! Po has got enough titles & credits at this point. Besides Po there is also one more character that deserves at least one title & that is none other than TIGRESS!!!

TIGRESS (DESERVES) SHOULD BECOME SHIFU'S TRUE SUCCESSOR!!

Before anyone decides to attack me let me just point out couple of hints given in the movies itself why Tigress should have Shifu's true successor title

Shawls & Clothing pattern.

Remember the whole drama & discussion we all had & still having about Tigress outfit suddenly being changed? I think I might've figured that reason out too. Both Oogway & Shifu have a similar green shawls right? Which for some strange reason I always thought it was the same shawl just passed down to Shifu after Oogway's death. But turns out both have very different pattern design at the back of their shawls

And SURPRISE BEHOLD it actually matches Po & Tigress. Oogway has almost a Yin Yang pattern which is Po who represents Black & White warrior which Oogway himself tells Po that he represents both sides of yin & yang.

As for Shifu & Tigress's case its the floral & vine patterns. What does the floral & vine pattern has connection to do with Tigress? Well if you watch all the movies including the the shorts her vine patterns actually are representing 'growth'

You'll notice carefully you see no patterns on her vest when she was a kid PLUS also on the brown robe which she used to wear as a teen which also closely represents Shifu's way of dressing since Tigress was desperate to become just like Shifu

But once she finally decides to unleash her real true strength after ripping the robe you finally spot a sapling like pattern on her vest indicating & representing she's finally growing & is out of her shell which later one as she grows older you notice her vine patterns also keep growing & finally her golden hanfu also has a little Lilly/Lotus pattern fully bloomed representing Tigress is a fully grown warrior of her own. Plus the whole growth theme fits very well for both Shifu & Tigress since both have come out from their cold shells & are showing more warmer & compassion sides

Po & Tigress are literally the next Oogway & Shifu 

Even their relationships!!

Despite Shifu & Tigress both question Oogway’s & Po’s decisions or plans they still remain extremely loyal & trust their masters. 

Heck! Not to mention BOTH Shifu & Tigress has watched Oogway & Po (sorta) dying into petals!! 

Shifu passing the staff to Tigress

Okay let’s just say GOD FORBID Shifu’s time comes to end there’s 70% chances Tigress could get his staff since Po has already got Oogway’s special yin yang one. Plus it would actually mean a lot for Tigress & something really special to cherish. Not only it would mean Tigress being the next master of the Jade Palace but also a way of Shifu finally able to express his feelings to Tigress as a father since both Shifu & Tigress aren’t too good in expressing in openly about it. 

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DREAMWORKS GIVE US ONE GOOD HEART WARMING FATHER-DAUGHTER MOMENT BETWEEN SHIFU & TIGRESS! PLEASE I BEG YOU!!

Plus if you watch the third movie Shifu actually looks completely shocked not expecting Po to get gand looking staff from Oogway. There could be chances that Shifu may have thought of passing his current staff to Po but after seeing the staff given by Oogway himself to Po Shifu might change his mind to give to Tigress? Or at least I’m hoping!! 

Also Fun fact the original storyline for KFP3 besides Mr. Ping & Li Shan fighting over Po whether he should become a noodle master & run his goose dad’s restaurant or choosing becoming a farmer & returning back to secret panda village with his biological dad. Shifu was also included in the fatherly fight as he wanted Po to be the next master to run the Jade Palace but the idea was completely scraped off! So fingers crossed Tigress is in the line on getting to be master to run the Jade Palace since Po already has enough titles & responsibilities to handle as Dragon Warrior & a Teacher 

And lastly Po & Tigress both have grown as warriors under Shifu’s training & Oogway’s wisdom. They’re both are perfect balance 

In conclusion! There is still hope for Tigress to also play a very important role in the franchise & I am PRAYING EVERYDAY KFP4 does justice to the franchise!! 

Anyways what are your thoughts? Feel free to discuss y’all! I really missed the whole pandom discussions!! :)

[sprnklersplashes]

it was legendary; it was momentary

ao3 ko-fi fundraiser

Something’s changed in him.

Something changes every time he comes home; the long stretches in Camelot carve lines into his face, his mighty destiny casts shadows beneath his eyes. There are good things too; he carries himself with a sureness he had never possessed before, and she wouldn’t change it for anything. But she does wonder if his softness will grow with him or if one day he will come home with eyes of pure steel.

He smiles when he sees her. She pulls him into an embrace, only to find him shaking as she does. He leans into her, holds her tight as if there’s something coming for her. He sighs against her, and the pain inside it strikes her heart more than any weapon could.

When they break apart, they smile as if nothing is wrong. She doesn’t mention the tear tracks on his face and neither does he.

It follows him around all day. Hunith watches as he drifts through the village, his body present but his mind somewhere else. He used to get like this as a child, when it was becoming more and more apparent that he couldn’t stay. Just like those times, she gets the feeling that he’s searching for something. When he was younger, it was easy to know what it was. Acceptance, answers, a purpose for the magic inside him. 

Now, she watches with an ache as he traces the same path, searching for answers and coming up empty each time. 

Merlin stops his pacing. He looks so haunted and Hunith knows this is beyond her. Whatever has happened has buried under her boy’s skin into his soul, and holds him a grip so tight that he’s bleeding from it. And she doesn’t know what it is. As much as she tries to put her own feeling aside, she can’t ignore the helplessness gnawing at her heart.

Night falls before she finally decides to ask. She and Merlin ate dinner in relative silence. They washed up, and as they did Hunith watched him look around the house like there’s something missing. As she puts away the plates, Merlin turns in a circle, his eyes darting everywhere. He bites on his thumb, a habit he’s had since boyhood, and she decides enough is enough. If she lets Merlin go on like this, he may wear himself down to nothing.

Slowly, carefully, she lays her hand on his shoulder. He starts, a gasp sticks in his throat before he realises. Hunith curls her hand into a fist and breathes out.

“Merlin,” she whispers, remembering to keep her voice light. “Something’s troubling you.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, but it tapers off. She shakes her head, rubs his arm.

“That may work in Camelot, but I know you too well,” she reminds him. Something flashes in his eyes then, and Hunith holds her breath before continuing. Wind picks up outside, but it could be a coincidence. “Whatever happened Merlin, you and tell me. We can work it out-”

“I met my father.”

And oh. 

Hunith stumbles backwards. Dull pain billows across her back when she hits the countertop, but she swallows her cry. She tries to breathe, but her chest is too tight, as if someone has wound wire around it and keeps pulling. Vaguely, she hears Merlin call her name, concern wavering in his voice, but she can’t make herself reply. Blood is rushing in her ears, trembling hands grasping the counter behind her. 

She’s no longer here. Suddenly, she is a girl of nineteen, twisted in bedsheets while Balinor kisses her. Then she is twenty, still and silent on that same bed while villagers whispered around her. 

‘Bastard child,’ they had whispered. ‘It would be one thing if she was just unmarried, but by him’. They turned to her, unsure whether to feel pity or disgust. Someone had stroked her hair then. Hunith wanted to bite her. 

With a shuddering breath, she comes back to the present. Merlin is across from her, so still he might as well be a statue. Blood blooms across her mouth; she was biting her tongue. Slowly, she lets go. 

“No,” she whispers. She shakes her head, pulls her shawl tighter around her. Gods, when did the room get so cold? “No, you can’t have-he-”

“My father,” Merlin says again. “My father, Balinor, the Dragonlord, ran away before he even knew about me-” He stops, his breath coming in a swift, sharp gasp. His mouth opens and closes wordlessly, and the tears he’d been holding back now shine in his eyes.

Hunith looks at the floor. Her gut twists, her mouth is dry. She drives her hand into the counter. At least, she supposes, she doesn’t need to wonder where he found out

“Gaius told you?” Merlin nods. She laughs then, though calling it that feels wrong. It’s too short, too bitter. But she can’t do anything else. She runs her hand through her hair, presses her tongue against her teeth. “I’ll murder him for it. Court Physician or not I’ll-”

“Don’t,” he says. He stands by the table, tracing patterns into the wood, but she isn’t fooled. The tension in his shoulders could fell whole forests. “He should’ve told me sooner.” Then he looks up, and the fire in his gaze makes her gasp. “You should have told me.”

“No, I shouldn’t have,” she says. “I don’t expect you to understand, Merlin, but I-”

“I understand that you lied to me,” he replies. His voice burns, and Hunith knows deep down, it’s a fire she started. Gaius had warned her, years ago, that hiding this from him would come back to haunt her. “I understand that every time I asked who my father was, you pushed it away.”

“I did it to protect you Merlin.” Her skin tightens, her pulse quivers against her wrist. “You were better off not knowing who he was.”

“That he was a Dragonlord? You thought I was better off not knowing that?”

“Yes,” she tells him, and she says it with such force that Merlin falls silent. Not regular, everyday silent either; one that is complete, all-encompassing. All Hunith can hear is the beat of her heart, pounding like the wings of that blasted dragon. Tears run down her face yet she still raises her chin.

Pride is not something she is known for. But damn it, she will not be lectured about her choices by a child. What can he tell her that Gaius hasn’t already?

“Everything I kept from you was to protect you, Merlin.” She resigns to speak once more than consider the matter over. “And Gaius should have known better than to tell you.”

But then Merlin looks at her with a face like thunder and it’s far from finished

“Gaius was more honest with me than you were,” he tells her. “My father was a Dragonlord. I had a right to know that.”

“And I had a duty to keep you safe,” she says. “That duty goes above everything else, Merlin.”. Her voice is shaking now, a string pulled too tightly. Heat scorches her chest and she drops her shawl to the ground. “He was gone and you were all I had and I will never apologise for what I did to protect you.”

She turns away before he can see. Self-pity sobs wrecking through her body because it’s the truth. She feels, rather than sees, the shift in Merlin’s mood and she curses herself. All her life, she had one rule for being his mother; never let him see her break. 

Yet, here she is. Breaking. 

“You were already carrying one burden,” she mutters. “What kind of mother would have made you carry another?”

No-one told her what to do. Gods, no-one taught her how to be a mother, let alone how to raise a Dragonlord’s son. She was the one who watched as Merlin’s eyes turned gold, who swept him behind her skirts when the knights rode through their village. It was her who lay awake at night, formulating plans to take Merlin and leave before the sun came up. They say it takes a village but when it came to her, all she had was herself and her intuition. It wasn’t fair, but she never complained. 

Perhaps if Balinor had stayed, it would have been easier. But she gave up on those girlish ‘what if’s a long time ago. 

With a final cry, she sinks down to her knees, her skirt pooling against the dusty floor. A voice in her head urges her to stand, that she is still a mother and her son is right there, but she can’t make herself move. All those long years weigh her down; nights she spent crying and days spent wandering around the village like a phantom. The grief she locked away now trickles through her veins and around her bones and she can’t stop.

There’s a snuffle, the scrape of a chair, and then a warm presence at her side, pressed against her hip like he’s still seven years old. Like he’s still a child.

(Isn’t he though, she asks herself. No matter how old he is or how powerful isn’t he always her baby?)

“Oh Merlin.” Despite him towering over her, Hunith wraps her arm around his shoulders and pulls him in close. She kisses his hair and rubs circles into his arms and lets him weep into her shoulder. His body trembles against her, a leaf caught in an autumn wind. 

She looks up. A small, tired sigh escapes her. She threads her fingers through the soft, ink-black strands of Merlin’s hair. She rests her chin on it, squeezes his shoulder as if she can squeeze the hurt out of him. 

“What happened to him?”  As if she doesn’t already know.

“I-I tried to save him,” he tells her and oh, her heart. Broken doesn’t begin to describe it. His chest heaves against her legs, his shoulders shake as if a hurricane is attacking them. “I tried, but I couldn’t-”

“It wasn’t your fault, Merlin.” She doesn’t need to know what happened. It will never be his fault.

She lets him tell her then, in his own time and his own words, about what happened. The Great Dragon freed, Uther demanding Balinor come to Camelot. Hunith bites back anger when he tells her how Gaius told him, holds her breath as he recalls finding and losing his father in a matter of hours. When she hears how he took his father’s gift and he commanded the Dragon away from Camelot, Hunith isn’t sure what she feels. Pride, because her own son banished a dragon. Complete terror, because her little boy can command dragons. A wistful sadness, because she wished she could have seen it.

Beneath it all, she feels a longing she thought she’d have grown out of. Longing for him and for their little family to be complete. For a life where she didn’t raise Merlin alone, plagued by his endless questions.

There are other things too, but she puts them aside for now. They sit in silence as night settles over Ealdor, hearts slowing until they beat in time with each other. She rubs his back, feels the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“He still loved you,” Merlin mutters. When she looks down, she finds him tracing patterns on their floor and she smiles. “He wanted you to be happy.” He shifts on the floor. “He thought you married someone.”

“Did he?” she asks, a faint smile on her lips. “Bastard…” Honestly, Hunith isn’t sure if she should be happy or insulted. Didn’t he know that it would only ever be him? How could he come into her village, breathe new life into her, and then expect her to forget?

“Mother?” His voice is heavier now, the ordeal having exhausted him. Hunith strokes his hair again.

“Yes?” He’s quiet for a long moment, and Hunith thinks he’s fallen asleep. Until he asks, in a voice so small and so broken, “Will you be all right?”

What else can she say? 

“I’ve been all right for twenty years now, Merlin.” She swallows and gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “Get some rest. I just have to go out for a moment.”

“Go out?” Immediately, he is up and turns around. In the dim firelight, Hunith can see the redness around his eyes, the palour in his cheeks. He reaches clumsily for her, wraps his trembling fingers around her hand. “Go out where?”

“I won’t be long, I promise.” She places her hand on his cheek, rubs her thumb beneath his eye. 

Before she knew about Merlin, Hunith had wondered if her life would have been better if Balinor had never crossed her paths. She had thought about all the heartache she would have saved herself. But then Merlin came, and she knows now just as she knew every moment since his birth; she would go through all that pain all over again if it meant she would have him. One messy moment with her boy is worth a thousand broken hearts. “Get some rest, darling.” She takes one last moment and presses her forehead to his. 

“I’ll be fine.”

She always has been, hasn’t she?

Balinor told her he’d meet her at the clearing. That horrible morning when the sky turned red and the Knights of Camelot were closing in. He told her to meet him at sunset at this clearing and then he would come and get her.

The village healer estimates she’d been sitting there for four hours when the search party came. Gods, she had screamed the place down, refused to move until one of them told her the truth. Balinor was gone, and on his way out asked one of the men to come and find her here.

She hasn’t been here since.

When she enters, she checks over her shoulder. She never could be too careful with Merlin. He had a way of sticking to her like a shadow as a child and he made her even more cautious than she was before.

Once she’s sure he didn’t follow her, she looks out at the clearing. The place is quiet, the dark blue sky half-hidden behind densely-gathered leaves. Up in the branches, a small animal scampers around, likely off to settle down for the night. As she breathes in, the air tastes cool and crisp, and tiny whisps of smoke appear as she gives a slow exhale. She chuckles, as if she’s sharing a joke with the place.

Then she drops to her knees, and she screams. Tears run like rivers down her burning cheeks, her breath hot against her hand. Her fist strikes the ground over and over, until the skin splits and her hand bleeds. The scream keeps coming, an ugly and rabid thing, driven wild by the years locked inside her.

She hadn’t admitted it. But the moment Merlin said the word “father”, a small bud of hope had opened. For just a part of a moment, she thought he’d come back to her, and she could make sense of the world again. No. He died, and she wasn’t there.

Should she be glad that she no longer needs to wonder if he’s alive? 

He left to keep her safe, they said. When did she ask him to keep her safe? How many times did she tell him she would choose him over safety? What had safe ever done for her? He gave her safety and with it gave her a broken heart and a magical child she had no idea how to raise. As far as deals go, it’s a rotten one.

She’s under no illusion about what she would have done if she’d found him again. She would have slapped the living hell out of him, screamed at him til she was blue in the face, asked how he could do this to her, called him every horrible name under the sun. A cheat, a liar, a disloyal ass, failure of a man and a failure of a father. 

Then she would have thrown her arms around him and never let him go. 

She has hated him for so many years. She has loved him for all that time too.

Eventually, her voice gives out and she can’t scream any more. Her knuckles are caked with dirt, blood trickling down her hand where she broke the skin. She pulls herself to her feet, pushes her hair from her face. The valley looks back at her, just as it did that night, and its vastness reminds her of just how small her life is. How insignificant, unextraordinary, uninspiring her life is. It taunts her, whispers that one way or another, Balinor always would have left. Ealdor was too small for him, just as it was too small for her son.

Hunith wipes a tear from her face. She looks up at the sky and, with fire in her eyes, she tells it she will not listen.

She knows now that Balinor loved her still. There is nothing-no kingdom and no magic-that can take that from her.

Just as she closes her eyes, a soft rustling appears behind her. She laughs, because she has to, and because she should have seen this coming. When has her boy ever, for a second, done what she tells him to?

A smile creeps across her face, slow, tender, almost reluctant after the evening she has had.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, head pressed to her neck. So mighty and powerful and yet, still her baby. 

Trembling, she grasps his hand with her cold one Merlin doesn’t understand why this place is so important to her. She doesn’t know if she will tell him or how much if she does. He deserves to know. He deserved a father. He deserved better than what he was dealt.

All three of them did.