#but E-FUCKING-NOUGH OF THEM

[nerevarbignaturals]

the best part of living downtown now is having a multitude of coffee shops to choose from if i want to do remote work in a third space. the worst part is the insufferable fucking realtors who have their meetings at coffee shops and talk about strategies for lying to home owners to get better commissions

[sleeptokenpuppy]

On a more upbeat note, I realized that the Teeth of God tour starts just in time for northern-hemisphere Beltane and despite not being good at visual art yet, I'm going to do some smol paintings about it.

[cartoonrival]

what the hell man what the fuckkkk

[beanlot]

ellie, who uses a vibrator on you for the first time, and just can’t get e-fucking-nough.

wc: 2.2k (smut + light fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“the fuck is that?” you hum from the crook of her neck after having examined the small toy, and it rests in her palm, her voice a little shaky from nerves. “okay.. so.. uh.. this little guy, helps stimulate certain areas..”

“this little guy?” you repeat her words with a playful smirk, pupils dilated with adoration when you look at her, resplendent enough that she can see her flustered expression reflecting back at her when she maintained that eye contact.

“yeah, this little guy..” she has a teasing smile to her, which only amplifies the pooling anticipation in your stomach.

“turn it on. turn it on.” you eagerly whisper against her neck, your lips still numb from your previous make-out, tingling from her savoured taste. after a few seconds of tampering with the remote, you hear a silent whirring. “alright.. says here that this is the lightest level. ‘n then..” she mumbles, and the whirring intensifies into a jarring buzz.

“i see..” you mumble as you watch the toy convulsing in her palm, and you touch it, your fingertips shivering intensely upon the metallic. “damn.”

but whilst your eyes are inspecting it, her eyes are plastered onto you, eyes brimming with desire. lust. hunger. you don’t notice it, you just feel her seductive breath on your cheek; her inviting whisper following shortly after.

“let me.. please?”

you slowly turn your head to look at her, noting her low lids and desperately parted lips that beg for your acceptance. you don’t answer, admiring her features as it fuels the fluttering in your chest and the cudgelling of your heartbeat against your ribs.

you want it. you want her so bad.

“it’ll feel good, baby.. i’ll try..” her whisper is a plead, delicate kisses peppering your jawline so seductively as she guides the device to your chest. your breath is unregulated, shaky with her intuitive touches.

you sigh, when she grazes it over your clothed nipple, the vibration a pleasure on your breast. “it tickles.” you breathily laugh, your stomach shuddering along with the device.

“tickles?” she laughs against your lips, smooching at the corner of them amorously. her elbow propping herself up, and you watch as she grazes it repeatedly over your nipple; watching as the fabric starts raising slightly when it hardens.

the vibrations start teasingly streamlining down to your underwear, wetness so evident when your clothed slit engulfs the metal.

“gonna put it on your clit, my love..” she whispers, as if she’s asking for your permission, your guidance.

her breath ghosts your cheek as her gaze focuses on your thighs - the heaven between them. the way your dripping cunt swallows it, blissful sensations on your swollen and clothed clit when she applies pressure.

“oh..” you whisper shakily, your hips instinctively and subtly rutting into it. because you want more.

“oh?” she repeats, eyebrows arching momentarily. she experiments, fingertips guiding the device - circling, tapping and grazing your clit.

it’s when she pulls the dampened fabric to the side, holding the vibrator down onto your hood that you seem rather eager. “wait. keep it-keep it there.” you sigh, thighs twitching. you feel your core tightening, clit pulsing with it's own lustrous heartbeat, and your hips subconsciously rolling into it. “keep it-there..”

“feels good, baby?” her lips subtly turn upwards into something you could only describe as a snarky smirk, tongue resting between her teeth.

you’re focused, ankles quivering and your abdomen tensing repeatedly from the ecstasy. you hear her mumble again through the concentration, her irises narrowed at your body’s reaction. “shaking so much, holy shit.”

your breathing is a little jagged, and you’re clutching at her wrist, making sure she doesn’t move or mettle up that teasing courage of hers to deny you what you so desperately want need. “just don’t move it..” you gasp, your back arching into the vibrations.

you scan her features through the haze; pretty verdant eyes tainted with desire, the fruitful shape of her lips, and that fucking scar slicing her eyebrow. she's wearing that stupid black shirt you like so much, and has that stupid hairstyle you love. “you’re so hot..” you whisper faintly, impulse that reflects your innate need to finish spilling out. “i’m gonna-fuck. i’m gonna ride your fucking face after this..”

“yeah?” she arches her eyebrows, voice a pitch higher, as if she’s challenging you. mocking you, even.

“uh huh.. gonna-i’m gonna-“ you try to think of what to say, but nothing other than your whimpering blither seeping from your helpless lips. and so she interrupts you,

“gonna what, baby?” she whispers, and you know for sure now - she's definitely mocking you. you look down to her hand between your thighs; watching the tendons that manifest her slender wrist start to twitch, those admirable veins framing her knuckles.

your impending orgasm is obvious by how tremulous your body reacts, her fingers amping up the vibrations as she presses it deeper onto your clitoral hood.

"oh, that's it. just let go, feel it.." she whispers, her free hand slithering down to your tremoring hip, measuring up the clenching and troubled muscles within them. her mouth is watering, she doesn't realise it until she swallows back her saliva.

she wants nothing more than to suck at your clit, coat you with her, slurp up your taste so disgustingly that you wouldn't be able to look at her the same tomorrow.

her free hand glides towards your slit, your thick juices coating her slim fingers so seductively. you hear her hum, a low and guttural moan, as you feel one of them slew inside your hole. it contracts so welcomingly around her finger, and it's so easy for her to slide another in.

"m sorry, baby.. i should've asked.." she whispers when she hears your troubled whine, but its not troubled in the sense you don't want it, it's troubled in the sense that you've never understood how fucking good it feels to be stuffed with her fingers.

so you shake your head with difficulty, trying to notion to her that it's fine, she can do as she pleases.

so she teasingly twines them upwards, feeling the harsh vibrations of the toy on your clit internally against your walls. "you feel that?" she asks softly, her voice silk.

"more.. just-just a little more.." you exhale unstably, so desperate to feel her against your most sensitive nerves, so guiding and patient with her. she takes your words, absorbs them with gratitude.

"more, my love.. i got you.." she's also unsteady with her breath, and just like your desperation, she's desperate to impress.

you feel her curl further against your spongy and quivering walls, eyes rolling back as she gradually fucks you with her fingers. "like that, pretty girl?"

"uh huh.. uh-like that.. like-oh fuck, ellie, baby-"

she can tell you're gonna come by how choked up your breaths are, and how rigid your body feels under her hands. "nice and easy, nice and easy.." she whispers, and you suddenly feel her wet tongue on your stomach, streamlining up to your abdomen and leaving a trail.

you can hear your own thighs walloping against her hand, your cunt squelching with every appreciative pump of her fingers. and ellie does what ellie does best, she talks you through it.

"thas' it, feel what i'm doing to you. just relax.."

"you whining for me?”

and it's suddenly too much, your eyes rolling back and head digging further into the fleecy pillow. "please please please please-" you're begging, pleading like a whore for it. you feel her tongue lick selfishly at your sternum, your shirt riding up and the air whipping against your piping hot skin.

when you look down to watch her tongue start relentlessly flicking at your nipple, her eyes dreamily shut, the sneezelike sensation in your core possesses everything in your body.

you're coming so aggressively, back arching into her as she keeps the vibrator on your messy folds - only this time, grazing it directly over your overstimulated clit, her fingers still urging you to your overbrimming limit.

you're whining like a mess, how she likes it.

she’s trying to hold you down, or at least stabilise you when you come, her fingers seeping out of your cunt and clutching at your shaking hips.

"i know it feels good, i know.." she murmurs against your skin, goosebumps littering your chest and arms. her fingers are glossed with your cum, thumb tracing patterns into your waist.

you’re trembling so much that she keeps losing grip.

she decreases the vibrations drastically to aid your oversensitivity, but keeps the device buried against your clit; your underwear slowly going back over your drenched slit as she lets go.

you’re confused at first, shuffling around uncomfortably when you feel your underwear soak up your cum, your clit still getting ambushed from the low vibrations.

but she’s not one to disappoint, stripping off her sweatpants and her bare thighs smoothing against yours as she situates her bare and drooling cunt against you.

your thigh is hoisted against her clothed abdomen, and you can feel the dips of her lanky muscle contract slightly. she’s worked herself up.

“ride my face in a minute, baby— i just.. i need this..” she sighs urgently, feeling the wetness of your underwear; she’s thirsty for it, dehydrated for it.

her clit is purple and erect, subtly grinding against your underwear, the vibrations humming through the fabric and stimulating her so divinely. the tone in her arms and the impulsive rolling of her hips, her stomach rubbing against your bare and piping hot thigh.

fuck, you like her using you like this. so selfish, self-serving.

you’re starting to uncontrollably tremor again, her movements forcing the vibrator against your overwhelmed clit. “i’ll be quick, pretty—i’ll be quick-“ she gasps, delectable lips parted.

her rutting hips are becoming sloppier, the bed frame starting to rock against the wall and creak.

“ellie—ellie, please- please hurry, it’s too much..” you whine, because the overstimulation is too shattering for you to orgasm again. but you’re trying to cherish the high of watching her face scrunch from abundant pleasure and yearning, the prize of hearing her guttural whimpers.

and it’s all so worth it, the torture of sensory overload, when her thighs start quivering against yours. her fingers clenching your thigh so frantically, her frenzied state erupting as she orgasms.

“mmph-holy shit-‘mm baby—“ she gasps, lips parted erotically against your knee, the adrenaline forcing her fingers to twitch around your thighs.

she’s still rutting against you, bathing through the last remaining ripples of her orgasm, before she takes note of your raw state. her fingers are delicate, sliding your swamped underwear down your legs and turning the vibrator off. it’s submerged in your cum, sweat and enjoyment.

“are you okay? was that too much?” she asks softly, hands gently squeezing your kneecaps in reassurance. she’s not sure why, but now that her impulsive drive to finish on your vibrating pussy is satisfied and fulfilled, she has some worried aftertaste on her tongue.

worried that she pushed your boundaries, or didn’t consider your feelings.

“no, you idiot. that was-“ you sigh, covering your dazed eyes with your arm. “that was so fucking hot.”

you hear her relieved laugh, and it’s silent for a few seconds. nothing but the sound of the light drizzles of rain outside, the balance of your relaxed and seduced breaths.

“still wanna ride my face, ma’am?” you hear her ask, not ignoring the tinge of hope in her tone. and so you laugh, looking up at her. she has a hue of mauve under her eyes, bags bags that demonstrate her careless sleep schedule.

but she’s stunning. and she makes those eyebags annoyingly sexy.

“i always wanna ride your face..” you mumble, unable to resist the spirited smile that tugs your lips upwards when you see the rosiness in her face bloom. she’s excited, she’s a loser for it.

“but.. maybe.. in the shower.. i’m like—“ you mumble, sluggishly sitting up, discomfort when you look down and see thick strings of your arousal between your thighs. “i’m hot, and sweaty, and gross.”

you look at her, and you’re strangely flustered by how she maintains eye contact. it’s out of character, even for ellie, but she’s jumped through the hurdles of being awkward with you.

all of the timidity and shyness has been bleached; she looks at you with such intimate love. “okay.. fine by me, ma’am..” she nods, lazily blinking through her infatuation.

and for the first time, it’s you that can’t uphold the eye contact. your eyes darting anywhere but hers - her collarbone, freckled cheeks fanned by her lashes, those admirable hands that are still resting on your knees.

they trace tender and doting patterns into your shins, nails that tickle and gently scratch your skin.

and when you look back up, she’s still gazing, nailing that romantic and worshipping gaze straight through you.

fuck, stop looking at me like that, williams.

“i love you..” you whisper, hands resting on her shoulders, before gliding up to cup her cheeks. her skin is also piping hot. “you’re so good to me.”

she looks calm on the outside, but on the inside, it’s absolute fucking havoc. her heartbeat hammering against her chest, eyes softening, and her hands reluctantly hovering above yours.

her palms rest on your wrists, and she slowly tilts her head to kiss your fingers, unblinking eyes that are still staring at you. her whisper is faint, anticipatory, and vanilla.

“i love you more, pretty..”

[gloomwitchwrites]

okay for the what ifs…

do you know that tiktok audio of the english guy going “RIGHT. THAT’S IT. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH! E-NOUGH!!”

imagining that the t141 boys’ partners finally make them reach the end of their rope after being a little shit the whole day, so the boy(s) finally decide to do something about their attitude(s)… 👀

Well, howdy. Hello! I didn't forget about you! (And I am so sorry that it took me this long to get to this. I am very backlogged y'all.) Firstly, thank you for fielding all my questions and sending me reference videos because I desperately needed them.

And because you told me that the boys need to "correct" reader's attitude, I decided not to control the impulse and literally use this prompt as an excuse to write some smut.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: dubcon elements, bratty behavior, ball gags, sex toys, spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected piv, creampie, anal plug, face fucking, restraints

Word Count: 1.3k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Being bad is fun. Wicked. Pushing buttons and riling up your man is your favorite pastime.

“Right,” says John. “That’s it.” With a deep sigh, he places his hands on his knees. Pushing off slowly, John straightens his back, arriving at his full height.

You back up but John is already striding forward, each step long and purposeful. Intent on catching you.

“I’ve had enough.” His voice is eerily calm. “Do you hear me, love?” John backs you up against the wall, one hand pressed to the plaster beside the side of your head.  “E-nough.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you lie, knowing full well what you’ve done.

“That bloody attitude.” He lightly presses his hand to your throat. “I think we need to keep quiet for a bit, yeah?”

John’s shift from the front of your throat to the back is swift. In a span of a breath, John yanks you away from the wall and tosses you onto the bed. You land on your stomach, and then his weight is on you, keeping you pinned as he forces your face up.

“Let’s muzzle that mouth, yeah?”

The ball gag is in before you have a chance to protest, John’s deft hands securing it. His weight disappears, but it is short-lived. John flips you over, pushing your legs wide, exposing your bare pussy to him.

Your arousal is fresh. Wanton.

“That’s better,” he says, stroking the inside of your thigh politely.

John gives your flesh a light slap. And then another, moving lower still until he’s dangerously close to landing directly between your thighs.

“Let’s find out how sweet you sound without your words, love.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Right. That's it."

Johnny turns you around and bends you over in a blink. There is hardly a chance to protest or run. You've been poking at him all day, and now he's over it. Clearly.

"I've had enough." His palm comes down on your exposed ass.

You yelp, the sting fierce.

Grabbing both of your arms, he brings them around to your back, holding them in place. Putting one knee on the bed between your legs, Johnny knocks them open. Keeping your arms to your back with one hand, Johnny uses the other to slide home. It's rough, a slight sting that makes you whimper.

"I've had enough. Enough of the attitude. Enough of the backtalk. Didn't give you permission to be a brat."

Each thrust is rough, a pounding thing that sends you bouncing, but Johnny has a firm hold. You are unable to move anywhere and can only take what he gives. There is nothing sweet about this. It is pure punishment.

His hands only grip. They don't caress—don't touch. He completely ignores your pulsing clit. It needs stimulation, but Johnny is denying it, refusing to touch it. It’s a damn shame. He loves teasing it.

Johnny shifts your body, pushing your face into the bed and opening up your hips to take a deeper angle. He uses you like a toy, nothing more than an object.

"Please," you whimper, but he ignores you.

His pace becomes erratic, and then fizzles out as he seals your bodies together. You feel the burst, and hear his low groan. For a moment, there is a lull, and then nothing.

"You want release, love?"

You nod against the bed, turning your head. "I want it. Please."

Johnny releases your arms and then steps away. "Too bad. You'll do without." He places a hand on the bed next to your head. Leaning forward, he comes into view. "If you correct your behavior. I'll give you what you want."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s sigh is loud. "Right," he says, eerily calm. 'That's it."

You’ve rarely ever seen him upset. Simon might raise his voice or get into someone’s face, but it mostly just for show. It’s not real anger. It’s when Simon is utterly calm that you should worry.

It's your own fault, too. All day you've been annoying him, being a brat, pushing his buttons simply because you like it when he deals out punishment.

"I've had enough. Enough of your attitude. Of your antics."

Pushing him a bit couldn’t hurt.

"You hear me? I've had enough."

"I don't know what you're—"

You're flipped onto your stomach without ceremony. Simon has your pajama bottoms off and your ass cheeks spread in seconds.

"Simon!" you protest, clawing at the bed.

He yanks open the bedside table. You turn your head, noticing the bottle of lube and the anal plug.

"You want punishment? You'll get it."

You attempt to push yourself up but Simon shoves you right back down, flattening you as he lathers up the plug.

“What—oh.” Simon doesn’t force it in. He eases it. Slowly. “Oh—fuck,” you moan, elongating the vowel.

The resistance is short. It’s in, stretching. Sitting snug. Your pussy clenches around nothing but is already throbbing, wanting something inside it.

"Come here," growls Simon, turning you onto your side.

He lifts your top leg, opening you wide for him. With your ass against him and your pussy exposed to the air, Simon lines the head of his cock up and thrusts home.

He's not sweet. Each thrust is sharp and deep, balls bouncing against you with each movement. You’re filled in both holes, unable to pull away—but it’s not like you want to. It’s the punishment you’re after.

Simon presses his lips to your ear. "This is about me. About getting what's mine. You want to be a brat? To rile me up? Then in return, you'll be my slut.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle turns the television off.

You sit up, turning in his direction. "Rude.”

Kyle sets the remote down on the table. "You want to explain your behavior today."

You swallow, and feign innocence. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Kyle frowns. "Hold out your arms."

"Kyle—"

"Do it. Wrists together."

You present them. Kyle undoes and removes his belt with one hand. He wraps the leather around it, buckling it in place. He gives your arms a tug, bringing you to the very edge of the sofa.

"I didn't do anything."

A lie. You did plenty. Snarky and sassy replies to all of his texts, not answering your phone when he called. Criticizing his driving in the car, and then his parking. You were a menace.

"Right," muses Kyle. He sighs. "I've had enough." With another yank, Kyle brings your face close to his groin. "Enough." You open your mouth to add one last quip but Kyle is having none of it. "You've been running your mouth all day. I know what you're after, love. And you're not getting it."

You stand your ground, if though you have nothing to stand on. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Kyle smirks. You know he knows.

"Open your mouth," he says, unbuttoning the front of his jeans. His free hand palms his dick. Kyle arches a single eyebrow, daring you to defy him.

You keep your mouth closed.

“Don’t test me.”

And still, you do not obey.

Kyle twists his wrist, tightening the lead on the belt. It pulls taut, so much so that it briefly bites into your skin. It surprises you, drumming up an audible gasp.

It’s his opportunity.

His dick is in your mouth in seconds, using the belt to pull you forward, sliding more of his length down your throat. When you attempt to pull back, Kyle grabs the back of your head.

You’re stuck and full of him.

"Let's put that mouth to better use.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[ferrarifinnick]

attention | starlight, homelander

starlight x super!reader x homelander

starlight debuts her new super suit during a meeting with the seven. only it's hard to focus on business when she's playing a little game she likes to call temptation.

note: first fic for the boys. not yet proofread sorry for typos. written so late at night lol. enjoy!! love <3 masterlist

warnings: teasing, stripping, oral, penetration, assplay, fingering, masterbation, dirty talk, homelander and his mouth.

3.1k words

Homelander paced back and forth. How his legs weren't aching in the slightest after two hours of this baffled you. Well, it would have, if you weren’t too busy sneaking glances at Starlight.

This was the first time you had seen her for a short while. It’s funny, really, how only after a few days your brain demanded she occupy every thought, every moment of solitude.

It was curiosity. That’s what you allowed yourself to believe, at least.

You blame her occupation on your mind on the first time you met her. She carried herself like a lost little mouse, scared to squeak, scared to draw any attention to herself. But she had it. Ample attention, from all corners of the room.

Deep, Maeve, even Noir all wanted to peel back the layers. See what made her so special to be the newest addition to The Seven. But you? Well, it was a different kind of layer you wanted to pull off her.

The little white suit, like something a devoted mother makes her child for Trick or Treating. A deeply religious mother at that. The sleeves, the layers of fabric. Imagining what could be underneath it was a workout in itself, let alone the kind you wanted to rope her into.

But today, now, in her seat opposite yours at the meeting table of The mighty Seven, was something else.

Those toned legs nearly didn’t end, and you watched her cross, uncross, stretch out and fiddle with them under the table for too long. Did she know you could see her panties when she wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position? Did she know you were watching?

Too many times she unhooked her leg over her knee, spreading those thighs just a little too wide. Who would ever take little miss church girl for a red thong kind of girl?

She spread her legs again and you caught sight of another flash of red. Teeth painfully pressed against your lip, you glanced away, back at Homelander’s impatient strides.

Being so obvious was trouble. Nevermind if she caught you looking, or any of The Seven for that matter. They were all pent up perverts who were all doing the same. Even Maeve, who squeezed her thighs too many times to not be doing exactly the same as what you were doing.

But Forget them. The real issue was Homelander. If he caught sight, no, if he caught a line of the dirty thoughts flooding your mind…

Your head swayed side to side. Every step he took, you watched like a hawk. Back and forth, back and forth, just like Starlight’s swinging boot. Even when you were good, minding your business like a saint, she always seemed to find a way to knock through your defences and place herself at the centre of your universe again.

This time, your head followed the swinging of her boot. Back and forth, back and forth…

“Starlight,” Homelander said, nearly exasperated “What do I even do with you,” he muttered almost under his breath, but it wouldn’t be Homelander if he hid his feelings. “Everyone’s too busy for you this week. Everyone except Heatwave. Why don’t you girls get to know each other a little bit, huh? Bonding, chit chats, just what all women can’t get e-fucking-nough of.”

Starlight leant forward, elbows on the desk, as if she was excited. Only her shoulders drew in like she was frightened, or at least a little nervous.

She met your gaze across the table. Your face was stone, until she offered a small, polite smile and turned her attention back to Homelander. She nodded along to the next topic of nonsense he rambled on about yet again, but you didn’t miss the way she lowered her shoulders and squeezed them towards her chest.

Metal. You licked at your broken bottom lip, trying desperately to steady your heartbeat. Homelander wouldn’t miss it if it carried on thumping against your ribcage, but how could you help it when you could think of was Starlights breasts heaving over the curve of her suit.

She released her shoulders. They no longer bracketed her chest, and you could no longer see her enlarged tits.

You should be relieved, happy even, now that your heartbeat was recovering. Although you couldn’t shake the aching disappointment of having to return to imagination to see what was under that new little super suit.

And super it was.

“Heatwave?”

You glanced at Homelander, suddenly aware of just how many eyes were on you.

“Yes, Homelander?” You said as monotonously as you could manage.

“When you have a moment, because I know your time is so precious,” he added quickly, the corners of his smile stretching nearly too tightly across his cheeks. “Can you get up and leave the fucking room?” He lurched forward, hips thumping against the surface of his spot at the end of the table. The vein on the side of his neck swollen so quickly, as if a bloated worm had somehow nuzzled a path under his skin.

Had Starlight seen this side of him yet? She must have. Innocent church girls didn’t suddenly trade in their layers for skin without reason, did they? The urge to check her legs were still deliciously on full display nearly convinced you to turn away from Homelander. Nearly.

You stared at Homelander silently. Scream as loud as he liked, you knew better than to get up.

He blew out a sharp flush of air through his nostrils, eyes squeezed shut. “That fucking heartbeat,” he mumbled, pressing a gloved finger to his temple. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. “You know what, everyone,” his cheeks were porcelain once more and that worm had freed itself. “Let’s leave it there for today. Good job, everyone. Except you, Deep, I can see your hard-on, let alone hear the things you want to do to Heatwave. I mean, really vivid,” he grimaced.

Deep scrambled out of the room first, and before you could leave with Noir, Homelander called out once again.

“Heatwave, Starlight, why don’t you both come with me?” A fool would think he’d asked, but a thinly veiled demand was the reality.

He led you both through the halls of the top floor of Vought Tower. Starlight followed him first. Did you let her or did she slam her boot in front of you before you had a chance? Whichever it was, you couldn’t feel more gratitude as you followed behind, mesmerised by the sway of her hips and the tightness of her dress.

Her boots struck the floor like a supermodel on a catwalk, the little mouse act long forgotten.

The strides she took grew longer, and you wondered if she knew the hem of her dress was hiking dangerously close to the curve of her ass. It’s not like you had to wonder where the top of her leg ended, either. Her dress, like a second skin, sinfully fed you that secret.

It was right there. So close you could almost reach right out and feel it for yourself. A wandering hand nearly left your sides, but you held it back when you heard the elevator ding.

“Ladies,” Homelander courteously gestured you both inside.

You settled in the elevator and watched as Homelander fingered level 1 on the panel of buttons. The lobby. Where was he taking you? Out of Vought Tower, or else why would he take you to the lobby?

The elevated buckled, the three of you jerking a foot out to catch yourselves. The whirring of the light bulb up above occupied your mind in a bid to escape the bubbling dread in your stomach.

Homelander stretched out a hand and slapped the emergency stop button.

You spared Starlight a glance. Her brows were knitted together just like yours, and you both turned to face Homelander.

He slowly

“Starlight,” Homelander said, smoothing a hand over her loose curls. She nearly leaned into his touch, but she had enough sense to wait for the penny to drop. “Take off your dress.”

Starlight blinked. “What? How could you ask me to-“

Homelander’s grin flattened into a tight-lipped frown. “Shut your fucking mouth.” She did. “I know what game you’re playing, girls,” Homelander seethed. “In my own meeting, for our greater good, you’re serving yourself up on a plate like a whore,” he shot at Starlight, his neck twisting to you right after. “And you, you pathetic slut, are wetting your panties for it.”

Was it shame? Embarrassment at getting caught out? No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be because you were already sweating at the thought of what your punishment was about to be.

“Heatwave, turn around and face Starlight.” On your heels you slowly spun around, swallowing the lump in your throat when you found Starlight’s head held high.

Taking it like a champ. Like a good girl. A good, innocent girl.

Homelander all but pressed himself against your back. He lent in, chin hanging over your shoulder. “Watch,” he said. “As she shows you exactly what you’ve been dying for.”

Starlight’s jaw clenched.

“Off,” Homelander said finally.

Starlight, locked in a silent competition with Homelander’s unrelenting gaze, unclenched her jaw. She turned to you. Those hard eyes now heavy lidded, fluttering up at you mischievously.

Her manicured hands slowly trailed from the sides of her legs, up over the curve of her hips, dragging her long nails over her ribs. They slowly disappeared behind her back. She stared at you for a long moment. Would she ever put you out of your misery? Oh, the suffering she inflicted, even with Homelander’s watchful eyes ready to flash red any second.

Zip.

The muscles in her arms flexed as she dragged it down her back. She brought her arms back to her ribs, pinching at the thin layer of fabric concealing them. She pulled it down.

Finally you were once more graced with the curve of her breasts. Only this time, you found the red bra that secured them in place. Oh, to tear it from her skin! Would they bounce in their freedom? Would they sit still, like the good girl they belonged to?

Starlight dragged the dress down to her hips, yanked the fabric over them with force. She released it. You followed it down its endless journey from her thighs to her ankles. To lay where her dress sat, looking up at where it once held her. Would her tits look bigger from down there? Could you see the curve of her ass?

“Man,” Homelander, was he enthralled like you, or was he revelling in your suffering. “This must be killing you, to watch but not touch.”

No fucking shit.

The heat in your chest raged. Her innocent eyes, big and round, locked on yours, but that little pull at the corner of her lips. She was enjoying this. Enjoying your pain.

Was she enjoying Homelander too?

“Take it off, Starlight,” he said. “Let her see what she’s been begging for.” Starlight reached behind her back to her bra strap, unhooking the clasp, but not before Homelander whispered, “Let’s see if all those thoughts you’ve been filling my head with were right.”

The bra fell to the floor.

Her tits, out in the open, all for you. Homelander might have been watching, but her eyes were fixed on you.

“Starlight, why don’t you take off those- oh!” Homelander gasped as she slowly gravitated towards you.

She reached down and delicately took ahold of your hands. Slowly, she lifted them up, ghosting over her abdomen, her ribs, until she finally set them on her chest.

Her eyes met yours.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked, words like velvet in your ear, leaning close to the other side of your head, away from Homelander. “To feel my tits, all in your hands, like they belong to you.”

Homelander’s superhearing drew out a low hum from his chest, and he stepped away from you until his back met the elevator wall.

Starlight ignored him. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll let you play with them.”

Your hands slowly grasped her breasts, squeezing them once, twice, that fire in your chest dropped to between your thighs.

Your hand shot up to her throat. She gasped in surprise, head forcefully tilted up. The corners of your lips slowly spread into a grin, as you squeezed her throat just enough to draw out a whimper.

“Let me?” You repeated, tilting your head. “This is what you’ve been asking me to do this whole time. That little dress, those red panties… no, I’m the one letting you have what you want.”

You ignored the zipper behind you, and the heavy panting from Homelander.

Starlight gazed up at you, lips parted. You meant closer, a line of spit falling from your lips, faking between hers. She pushed the spit towards the front of her lips, nearly letting it spill down her chin, before sucking it back in and swallowing.

“Good girl.”

She whimpered again, just like she did when your wandering hand met the wet patch of her panties.

“Oh,” you gasped. “This wet already? No…” you pouted, nearly sympathetic. “No, this must’ve been from the meeting too, right Starlight? I know your little pussy was wet that whole time you were teasing me.”

“Mhph,” she cried under your chokehold as you brushed a finger over her sodden panties.

Hooking a finger around the red lace, you barely had to yank it down to rip them from her. Super strength had its moments, even if you didn’t sign up for it. Starlight gasped, hips fitting towards the flat palm you pressed against her core.

“Ah, ah,” you tutted. “You didn’t think I was going to be that nice, did you?”

Starlight’s brow furrowed. Then they shot up to her hairline when you spun her around and folder her over. Ass up in the air, you ghosted your hands over the fatty flesh.

“How did you manage to hide all this under there?” You asked, spreading your hands over her squishy cheeks. She moaned at the nails your dragged into her skin, then yelped as you crashed your palms down against her ass.

“Fuck!” She cried.

You bent down to your knees, settling under her bare pussy. Not just wet but dripping. Like a teardrop running down a cheek, it dripped out of her pink slit down the top of her thigh. The flat surface of your tongue pressed against Starlight’s soft skin, dragging up her thigh until you reached the end of the trail.

“Ah!” Little mouse squeaked as your tongue lapped at her soaked wet hole. “Oh my goodness,” she drawled out, a hand finding your hair.

Even with a tongue in her pussy, she still couldn’t manage to cuss. Such a good girl.

You set yourself back onto the floor, back against the elevator wall. You yanked her hips towards your face, licking a stripe up her pussy. She gasped and then cried out as you probed her with a finger. It was soaked the very first time you pulled it back out.

You added a second digit to her sopping wet heat, then attached your eager tongue to her pink clit. Her hips jerked into your touch, her wet juices spreading over your face and you accepted it. Rubbed your face all up in her pussy to get your whole face covered in her pussy juice, like it was an age-rewinding moisturiser.

If licking and finger fucking her pussy was loud, then Homelander’s wet fist fucking took the cake. He groaned and pumped himself at the free show, gasping over and over at the sound of your fingers stretching out Starlight’s tiny little hole.

“Oh, yeah… yes!” he grunted. “Finger her asshole, too.”

You did as told, but not because he ordered it. You really wanted to see how tight that pretty little asshole was. Your free hand unwrapped Starlight’s tensed thigh, one finger dipping into her pussy for lubrication. You pulled it out and circled it around the tight ring of her ass.

“Be a good girl for me, baby.”

“Yes, oh I’ll be so good for you,”

You sucked on her clit, a reward for her obedience, and plunged your finger into that forbidden little hole of hers.

Starlight’s jaw nearly unhinged. She nearly bounced back onto your digit. Desperately she rocked her hips—no, fuck that, she violently humped your face, taking it in her pussy and her ass like a pornstar.

“Oh, oh, oh I’m so close,” she warned.

“That’s fucking right,” Homelander grunted, pumping so hard he was sure to have uneven biceps by now. “That’s right, Starlight, good fucking Starlight.”

She ground her pussy over your face, and with both hands and your tongue occupied, you used the only thing left you had. Your voice. You hummed against her clit, and suddenly her hands shot to your hair, tugging at and nearly tearing out your hair as she crashed into her orgasm.

“I’m cumming!” She cried out. “Oh God, I’m fucking cumming!”

Homelander’s heavy footsteps charged over, a hot liquid shooting onto your face just as Starlight’s pussy coated your fingers with white cream.

“Nggh,” Homelander grunted, pumping the last droplets of cum onto your chin. “Ahh,” he sighed out, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet lips, and then returned to the panel on the wall.

He pressed the emergency button again and the elevator slowly dropped down the building.

Starlight glanced down at you. Lust-blown pupils hidden behind heavy eyelids, as she nearly fell down onto you.

You grasped her hips, holding her up and settling her against the wall.

Homelander glanced over. “Get yourselves together, Jesus, it’s like a fucking cum grenade just exploded.” He said, disgust taking its rightful place back in his arrogant throat.

You quickly pulled up Starlight’s dress, hiding her heaving tits underneath the fabric. The bra stuffed into the chest of your own super suit just for now, and the panties you wiped over your cum covered face. Those also went into your suit, to cover up the evidence, sure, but really you wanted to keep hold of them.

Starlight, slowing her breathing down, rolled back her shoulders, calm and confident as if nothing had happened. That didn't sit right with you, and so you leaned in, just close enough for her to feel your breath on her neck.

"What would the lord think of you cussing his name when you cum?"

Starlight snapped her wide eyes over to you, just as Homelander snickered, and the elevator doors slid open.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Logan and writer! reader?

Behind your apartment door, Logan could hear you talking to your mom.

She was on speaker. Like always. So you could do what you needed to do and just put in a comment here or there. And he winced. Christ. That hadn't changed. And probably wouldn't. You could be in labor and she would still be asking you for money or complaining about her neighbors not noticing anything about you.

He had a key. He could let himself in. But he knocked anyway.

You needed to be able to tell him 'no'. That he decided was important. As bad as he needed to talk to you, he couldn't just make you do it. But he wasn't ready when you opened the door.

You look exhausted. Stressed. Drawn. Not the way you should look. The way you used to look even. Or the way you used to look when you looked at him. You drew back away from him, pulling your cardigan closer to your body like it will protect you. "We need to talk," He growled.

"I don't see why," you answer, "You made it clear you didn't want-"

"Don't be stupid," he snapped, anxiety roiling up as he stepped forward. "Y/N you're falling apart-"

"Fuck off," you snap back "God just fuck off. I'm trying okay?" Tears well up and you gesture to the door, "Mission accomplished, you've pointed out that I'm worthless you can go."

"Sweetheart-"

"God, is it ever e-fucking-nough for you? I get it I'm stupid. I'm worthless. I'm a distraction until I'm not. I don't matter. Nothing matters and nothing is ever enough. Okay. Perfect. Point taken I don't need you to keep telling me okay? I ruin everything I touch-" You break off and wipe angry tears off your cheeks and all Logan can do is stand there dumbfounded when you take a swing at him. Catching your wrist to keep you from hurting yourself.

You try to twist out of his grip and he doesn't let you go, pulling you against his chest carefully. Cradling the back of your head. He can hear your heart racing. The anxiety. And the pain you're in is palpable. You're so worked up and upset you don't make any sense but the words just keep coming and you keep struggling uselessly.

"Shhhh," he soothed. "I'm here. You're okay-"

"Why am I never worth changing for?" you stammer. "Why am I always worth leaving."

And he doesn't know what to say. Because he didn't know if it was him you were asking about. He opened the wound, but he didn't make them. All he can do is let you cry. Let you dissolve into a weak, pitiful puddle in his arms.

He gathered you up and let you rest your head on his shoulder. Holding you and rubbing your back, heedless of the snot and the mess as he rocked you on the sofa. "When's the last time you ate?" he asked softly. "Slept?"

"I don't know."

" 's not good, Sweetheart," he said.

"I'm not hungry and I can't sleep, I just keep thinking and it keeps going."

He nodded. He wanted to ask about doctors. About how you were feeling. If you were doing anything to take care of the fact that there was a baby coming. But he didn't know how you would take that and this- he hardly knew how to handle this. All he knew right now was that you needed to eat and you needed to sleep because you were getting sick. Very sick. And if he wanted to make it right with you, he needed to start with getting something to eat in you. Something healthy. And then once you's eaten, it was going to be time for bed.

[oliviaischillin1204]

hands on experience (tickletober day 3- "prank")

word count: 1,221 words

this was intended as a seasonal fic (you'll see what i mean lol) but i'm glad i got to finish it!

Roman rose up without any warning. "I'm in trouble!"

The other sides all looked at him. He seemed deceptively happy about what he just said.

Logan, after a beat, slowly closed his book. "Alright. Let's hear it."

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Patton asked, moving towards him.

"It's a prank," Virgil chimed in. He hadn't moved from his position on the stairs, eyeing Roman with a distinct suspicion. "It's April Fools' day, remember?"

"Correct on both accounts, my fine fearful friend!" Roman said. "It is April Fools' Day, and I am in the middle of a prank-- but not on anyone in this room!"

The other sides looked at each other before Patton asked a wary, "Who... is the prank for, Roman?"

The prince opened his mouth, but no words came out as another side appeared in the room.

"Ah," Roman said instead, eyes sparkling, "good morrow, Janus! To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Janus, for all intents and purposes, seemed almost surprised to see the other sides as they were to see him. His eyes flicked around the room somewhat frantically.

"Oh, goody," he hissed, "more people. Exactly what I wanted, Roman, thank you."

"Janus?" Patton asked. "What's up, kiddo?"

Clearing his throat, Janus tried to straighten up, but there was something off about the way he was holding his hands clutched against his chest. He breathed deeply, then winced, like even that was too much movement.

"Our... lovely Roman," he gritted out, "decided it would be oh so funny to... alter... my gloves, for this ridiculous 'holiday'."

"You don't like April Fool's Day, Janus?" Logan asked.

"Not when the joke's on him," Virgil replied. His lips were beginning to quirk up. "I don't know what Princey did, but if you hate it, I love it."

Patton made a wounded noise. "Wh- no, guys! If Janus doesn't like being pranked, he shouldn't have to be!"

"Kinda think you don't really understand pranks, Pat," Virgil said. "You're not meant to ask for permission before you do it."

Janus shot him an icy look. "Well in that case, I'm sure you won't mind it the next time Roman decide to enchant your clothes to--"

He froze, the human side of his face going darker.

"Roman." Logan said. "Do I even need to ask if that's true, or should we just skip to you telling us what you did to Janus' gloves."

"Nothing permanent, nothing scarring, and nothing you wouldn't approve of, Teach." Roman smirked at Janus, who looked like he was trying to murder Roman with his eyes. "Why don't you tell them, Janus?"

"You--"

And then Roman snapped, and Janus screamed.

"No!" He gasped, clawing at his gloves. "Enough! E-nough-- nahahahahaha!"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Ah. I see. I do approve."

"Fuck off," Janus spat, but the impact was greatly lessened by the desperate giggles falling from his mouth. He moved like he couldn't control his body, his torso desperately wiggling back and forth and his knees buckling. Through peals of laughter he tugged desperately at the edges, but whatever magic Roman had done clearly meant those gloves would only come off when he was ready.

"Oh, my gosh," Patton whispered, enraptured. "You gave him tickle gloves!"

"Lined with a thousand invisible feathers, all programmed to move according to body heat and hand movement," Roman said proudly. He shot Janus a sidelong look, grin widening. "Or when I tell them to, of course."

"A breheheheak!" Janus squealed, stamping his feet on the ground. "Plehehehease!"

"No, hang on, Roman, I don't think I get it," Virgil said gleefully. "Why don't you explain it to me again? Much slower this time, please."

"Why certainly, Virgil! You see--"

Janus kicked Roman in the shin.

"Fuck!"

"A break you bitch!" he shrieked.

"Come on, Ro, let him breathe," Patton said, although he was clearly enjoying the show as much as any of them. Roman hemmed and hawed, but acquiesced, snapping his fingers again.

Immediately Janus clutched his hands to his chest again. "You bitch."

"You said that already." Roman clearly wasn't offended, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Now, they've heard my side, Janus-- how do you feel about the gift I got for you?"

Indignation flicked across Janus' face. "Oh, yes, what a marvelous gift, transforming one of my favorite accessories into a-- a death trap."

"Inaccurate," Logan supplied helpfully. "We can't die."

"Y--" Janus sighed. "Thank you, Logan."

"You know, I'm a little bit surprised," Patton said. "I never really thought about hands being very ticklish before."

"Oh, Patton, you've been missing out," Virgil said. "Janus' hands are super ticklish. Especially the backs, it makes him fucking nuts."

Roman nodded. "I believe he once described the sensation to me as 'electric tingles from his nails to his elbows'. It sounded absolutely delightful, frankly, so I thought I'd give him a little gift!"

Janus clicked his tongue but made no further comment; he couldn't-- even when he kept as still as possible, the gloves still radiated a buzzy ticklish energy that ran across the thin skin of his hands and set his nerves alight. It took all of his energy to not laugh again, settling for taking shaky breaths and shifting back and forth on his feet.

"You've made your point," he hissed to Roman. "Change them back now, please."

He didn't have to argue anymore: Roman snapped again, but as Janus flinched again in anticipation of the oncoming tickles, he was instead faced with the tingles ceasing entirely. He blinked, and Roman shrugged.

"You said please," he said pleasantly.

"... I said please earlier," Janus grumbled, face flushed. Belatedly he yanked off his gloves, shaking out his hands and rubbing them together to dispel the leftover tickles.

"Oh, here, let me--" Patton reached out a hand, but Janus shrank away, hissing furiously.

"Woah!" He put his hands up placatingly. "I was just gonna hold your gloves for you, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you!"

"No, you--" Janus started, then stopped. He looked around the group. "Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Oh, shit, you're jumpy," Virgil laughed. "We're not gonna do it again, dude. You can chill."

"Indeed," Logan said. "The prank was amusing, but you wanted it to stop, so it did."

Janus felt wrong footed. "Of course. I knew that. Obviously."

"Wow, that was really clever, Roman," Patton said. "Oh! Can you do a prank on me next? But don't tell me what it is! Just tell me when it's about to happen and what I should do to make it work."

"You got it, Padre." Roman winked, and one by one all the Sides sank down until it was just him and Janus. The latter was staring at the wall, pretending he couldn't feel Roman's pointed stare.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Roman smirked. Wordlessly he held out his hand, and after a few long beats, Janus shot a hand out and place it in his palm.

"That's what I thought," Roman replied smugly. God, he was a bastard. Janus should tell him that. Except it was kind of hard to talk now that Roman's fingers were scratching gently along the back of his hand, what with the giggles freely falling from his lips again.

"If you wanted a more hands-on experience, Janus, all you had to do was ask."

[aajjks]

Okay let me see! He hurts her hip by spreading her legs open to much to fuck her, okay? Right? She’s limping the next day and he notices but she doesn’t lie and just tells him she’s sore from the night before! Still with me? She tries multiple times to get him on top of her, get on top of him, even just tried to suck him off but he backs out before she can even see his cock! He’s constantly saying no, how he doesn’t deserve to feel her, tries to make it up to her by doing acts of service, even more than he already does! And when she wakes him up, because she’s had e-fucking-nough! As she’s riding him talking him through it, he’s just whimpering and softy crying! She’s telling him “you’re my good boy, baby” “look how well you’re behaving, letting me ride you… And you think you don’t deserve me? A good boy always let’s their women use them” “I’m your woman ain’t I? Then fuck me like you mean it” IDK PLEASE 😭😭😭😭

“Noona.. c-can’t please..”

You’re on top of him, he’s staring at you with his hungry eyes, your hips feel so warm, your thighs seem so plush, your predatory gaze has him shaking, but he can’t give in.

No he can’t, no matter how good you feel humping your hips down onto his crotch, he is unable to move an inch from his bed, you have him cornered almost.

You roll your eyes and slam your hips down on him, he moans out at the contact, your shirt is open, he can see your breasts, oh he wants to touch you so bad but-

“Please baby… noona missed you s’much, been so needy..” you pinch his skin, digging your nails into his flesh, Jungkook cries out from the pleasure your hips provide him with.

“need you, so fu-fuckin bad, baby.” Oh you’re going to make him cum.

He grabs your hips in his hands and slams you down on his clothes dick, he can’t resist you no more, he’s never been able to.

The way you’re begging him, the way you look at him with so much need and lust, he could die right now if he doesn’t feel you’re warm walls around him any longer.

“O-Oh that’s it, noona..” his fingernails dig into your hips, he feels so ashamed for being so needy like this when he promised himself that he would not touch you

Yet when he notices the way your eyes roll back at the back of your head, something snaps in him.

His hips roll so feverishly onto the mattress, he’s grabbing your ass you rightly that it’ll bruise, “I-I’m so sorry noona-”

“No baby… noona missed you so much… d-don’t let me stop, need you inside me so bad…”

“Oh fuck, noona… can’t..”

“Yes you can, mhmm, my good b-boy… noona loves you so much… such a good boy for noona..”

Oh you’re so going to make him cum

“lose yourself baby ‘s okay… noona loves you..”

and that’s all he needed to release.

[swagmagussupreme]

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 4: Dragon AU

(I, uh... got a little carried away again. I honestly wanted to do Ruby as the dragon but I just didn't. by the time i remembered i wanted to do that i already had a flow, so... c'est la vie.)

Not any content warnings I can think of. Suggestive if you find the vague, unelaborated presence of nakedness suggestive. Not edited because I wrote way too much so fuck it we're doing it live.

Words: 6388

Of all times for Ruby Rose to twist her ankle, this was probably the least opportune. 

She tumbled over like a stack of bricks, spilling a decade's worth of knowledge as her satchel burst its contents over the floor. Her journals, her charcoals, her bottled paints— even her ink pot shattered loudly, splattering black against stone. Ruby's chest seized as if her ribcage were trying to throttle it, but she held herself completely still. A loud, waking breath rattled the darkness.

“Oh, an in-trud-er,” the thing within mused, its syllables breaking like each one was its own word, a tongue unused to speaking. “Or a… gue-ssssss-t. Gue-ss-ss-sstuh.” The tongue clicked impatiently. “Gue-sst. Closssse e-nough.”

Ruby hunkered low, as low as she physically could, and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her ankle. She held her breath.

“Be sssssssss-till thy bea-ting heaaaaaar-tuh.” The voice was closer now. Ruby could see a glimmer in the dark, a pearlescent reflection of nonexistent light. “I can heeeeeear the ter-ror in your chesssss-tuh.”

Ruby willed her heart to stop. It did not.

“Ugh, you peo-ple real-ly sssssss-peak like thi-sssssss-suh?”

The glimmer was brighter. A white-blue glow swayed in the darkness— one, then two, then three pairs of eyes making themselves known. Ruby felt them.

“I can sssss-see you, you know.”

Ruby shot up and waved her hands out, thrusting a light spell from her palms to blind the dark-dwelling beast, just long enough that—

A wire-thin beam of ice-colored light struck her palm directly. Ruby's spell vanished into impotence. 

“Casssssss-ting in my lair?” it rumbled. “How… un-couuuuuut-tuh.”

Ruby jumped at the opportunity. “Uncouth! Th-uh! With your tongue against your top teeth, passing the air between them!”

The cavern was suddenly bathed in cold light, and Ruby could finally see it. A dragon. A real, honest-to-Oum dragon. Not a drake, not a wyrm, not some other dumb lizard she'd been pointlessly tracking for weeks— a real, genuine, intelligent dragon. Pearlescent, slender-bodied, four-legged, with two major wings like giant, smooth sails and two minor wings situated closer to the posterior. Its pale scales were shaped like heater shields and shone like mother-of-pearl. Its claws were white, blue-tipped. Its tail was long and ended with a flare of its cyan crest, which ran up its spine before ending just above the major wings. Its head was long and triangular, serpentine, and menaced down at Ruby with six incredible, glacial eyes. It licked its dual rows of teeth with a forked turquoise tongue.

And now it couldn't even kill her! Ha! “Hahaha!” Ruby laughed despite herself. “Now you can't kill me! I've imparted value through knowledge! I'm protected!”

The dragon bent its huge neck down, each eye focusing on a different object that Ruby had spilled. Its throat rumbled pensively, unbothered. One of its eyes glowed, lifting Ruby's journal to with a magic the researcher had never witnessed. It flipped through pages and hummed. “A… ssssss-scribe, you are. Quite pro-liss-ic.”

“Prolific?”

Five of its eyes locked onto her at once, its other eye still reading through her recordings. “You are bol-duh.” It waved a claw to a wall, indicating a crumpled old skeleton in timeworn clothes from a whole other period. “He was, too.”

“But I am protected!” Ruby claimed, confidently puffing her chest and raising her chin.

The dragon snorted. “As a part of my hoard, yes,” the head bent even closer, now focusing on Ruby with all six eyes. “Or did you not know?”

Ruby reached out and touched its smooth, cool snout. It smelled like a blizzard. It was real, it was here, her life's work— she could touch it! Ruby smiled. “That's perfect,” she said truthfully. “It's perfect! I came to study you anyways!”

The dragon reeled. “What?”

Ruby smirked at it. “Don't be coy, you saw my research. I've been looking for you my whole life! A dragon! God!”

Its eyes flickered curiously. Five picked up her other books and rapidly flicked through, leaving one icy eye to keep locked onto her. “You are sssss-some… sssss-ser-pent ssss-cho-lar?”

The serpent scholar nodded fervently. “Yes! And you are my dream come true!”

The dragon’s body pitched back onto its haunches, then it laid down flat on its stomach. It kept one eye on her, gradually getting more to lock onto the human as it finished reading her works. “I own you now, you real-li-zzzzzzz-zuh. 

Ruby extended a hand towards it. “Then introductions are in order! I'm—”

“Rrrrru-by Roooooo-suh,” the dragon interrupted. “I did just read your book-ssssssuh.”

Unperturbed, the scholar kept her hand out. “And yourself?”

The dragon's craw twitched, a hum arising— a display of amusement, Ruby decided, which she would take note of when she had a chance. “I am the ssssss-soul of the win-ter. I am the crack of the fro-zen lake ‘neath your feet. I am the drift of sssss-snow upon sssss-snow. I am the ruin of your crop, the frosssss-st upon your ssssss-skin, the fin-al bursssss-st of flame be-fore you die in. The. Cold.”

Ruby blinked. “Is… that a name?”

The dragon huffed. “Your feeble tongue cannot grassssss-sp my title.”

“Oh. Could I hear it anyways?”

The dragon stared at her for a long time, its freezing eyes impaling her, but Ruby did not buckle. She seemed perfectly content. “You are mine, now,” the dragon mused. “Ssssso, you will need the ca-pa-ci-ty to… un-der-sssssss-stand.”

Ruby cocked her head. “Uh, do I? You're not just going to stare at me all day? I'm pretty.”

A rough chuckle shook the walls of the dragon’s grand, cavernous lair. “You are my sssssss-scribe, now. You will pen my glo-ry, and I will ssssss-suf-fer thissssss aw-ful ton-gue no more.” One huge hand slowly moved towards Ruby. “Ssssss-stay sssssss-still.”

Ruby held herself rigid, calcifying her resolve with the knowledge that this creature was compelled not to kill her. The claws reached her face, went down, and traced the skin of her throat. They were sharper than something so large should be, opening more than one shallow nick that had Ruby hissing, but true panic set in when they pinched around her trachea. With barely a twitch, with a sneeze, this dragon could sever her windpipe. 

The claws pinched up and down, feeling the area until they stopped at her larynx. “There it isssssss-suh.”

A piercing chill lanced through Ruby’s throat, freezing her insides, the frost traveling down her spine, then back up her tailbone and up to her brain, wracking her with the worst brain-freeze she had ever experienced. She couldn't stop herself from rocking back, whining. “Ow! You—”

Ruby stiffened, her hands stilling on her temples, her pain fading into glorious epiphany.

“You! You, you, you!” she cheered, feeling her tongue and her mouth and her teeth, rejoicing as her throat dipped and bobbed in ways it never had. She wasn't speaking the language she'd been born with, but it felt like she'd been speaking this way her whole life— with clicks of her tongue and her teeth, with hisses and groans, with throaty enunciations that rumbled her bones— dragon-tongue! She was speaking dragon-tongue!

“How have you done this!” she asked stupidly. “Magic, obviously, but none I've ever seen! None I've ever even read, and I'm pretty well-read for a scribe of snakes and drakes!”

The dragon’s six eyes became smug crescents. “I’m three thousand years old, Ruby. What the stones have forgotten, I remember.”

Ruby snorted. “Well, stones can be older than that.”

“Sure, but they have terrible memories.”

“Was that a joke?”

The dragon hummed, which was a sound that Ruby now heard in tones she'd never heard before, extracting more meaning from the simple vocalization. Amusement, obviously, but also… pleasure. Satisfaction— no, relief. Almost a… a wholeness. A bitter memory of the solemn, silent dark. How could a single sound communicate such a myriad? 

She had so much to learn.

--

The dragon's name was Weiss. It had been stubborn in providing that much for a fair few hours before Ruby had whittled down its resolve— it said she wouldn't comprehend its name, that her brain was too molded to human-speak to form the syllables, but she proved it embarrassingly wrong when she laughed, repeating it with ease in either language. 

Weiss had been keeping her in the cavernous chamber with the rest of its hoard. The room was a giant sanctum of towering walls, each one carved with deep trenches and brimming with tomes, scrolls, and loose parchment. The walls were taller than Ruby could ever hope to reach— she'd exhaust herself trying to climb them— unless Weiss opted to give her a ride. The dragon hadn't reacted too keenly to that notion.

The dragon was polite enough to leave motes of light hanging along the walls and ceiling, leaving lit the modest pile of standard dragon-treasure at the room’s far end. Silver and platinum in coins, bars, goblets, and most other forms of such riches. It wasn't the towering pile of gold that Ruby had read and seen depicted in legends, but it was just large enough to be stacked taller than she was. Ruby looked around.

“Weiss!” she called, her voice echoing across the sanctum’s clawed stone walls. “Weiss, come here! I need something!”

“You do not need to yell,” Weiss responded, its voice somewhere deep in the lair. “What could you possibly need?”

“For you to come here!” Ruby demanded, stomping her foot.

“You are my thing, Roseling. Make no demands of me.”

“I am demanding you to get over here whether you like it or not!”

There was a palpable pause. Weiss’ slender head rounded into the sanctum shortly thereafter. The dragon stared, its six eyes gleaming under the magical lights. It said nothing.

Ruby marched to it sternly and turned up her nose. As much as she could, at least, which had very little effect because she had to crane her neck up at Weiss anyways. “I'm a human, Weiss,” she claimed. “I have needs.”

Weiss blinked two of its eyes and let out a suffersome sigh. “You have food.”

“No, I don't.”

Weiss pointed to the back of the room, towards the hoard of precious metal. “Yes, you do.”

Ruby followed its claw, then turned back to Weiss, stupefied. “I— wha— you eat silver?”

“Silver is food, yes,” the dragon replied obviously. “What, your first feeding? Mortals…”

“I can't eat silver!”

Weiss reeled genuinely. “You… yes you can,” it claimed. “Who doesn't?”

Ruby raised her arms in a broad gesture. “Everyone! Nobody eats metal! We eat things like meat and vegetables! Dragons actually  eat their hoard?”

Weiss blinked again, this time with the four eyes it hadn't blinked before. “What? I cannot eat knowledge.”

“The coins aren't part of your hoard?”

Weiss shook its head. “Why would they be? Your petty human riches mean nothing to me. True wealth is knowing.”

Ruby gave the dragon an impressed frown, and added that to the list of things she needed to take note of. “I can agree with that. Why’re the riches in here, then?”

Weiss shook her head like a wet-but-lazy dog, which Ruby understood as something shrug-adjacent. “I like to have a snack while I read.”

A smile shot over Ruby’s lips. “Oh, me too! Can't feed the brain without feeding the body!”

The dragon nodded at her sage wisdom, but seemed to catch itself halfway through agreeing with a mortal. “Hmph. Well, how can we get you food?”

“You can't just…” Ruby wiggled her hands in the air. “Magick some up?”

The dragon rolled all six of its eyes, which was apparently a universal gesture. “No, Roseling. I cannot just ‘magick up’ something nutritious from nothing, unless you would find meat-shaped rocks palatable.” It let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Oh well, I suppose you'll starve, then.”

 Weiss started to turn, but Ruby sprinted to grab at its swaying tail on the way out, hoping to stop the dragon. That didn't work, and only ended with Ruby flailing around on the end of that long, articulate limb, screaming herself senseless while Weiss dutifully ignored her.

“Weiss!” she cried. “Weiss, feed me! Please! You're compelled not to kill me, I'll die if I don't eat!”

“Not killing you and letting you die are two very different things, Roseling.”

“Stop calling me that! Also, feed me!”

“No.”

“Please!”

The dragon stopped, nearly throwing Ruby from its tail as its momentum was arrested. Its long neck craned around, showing a hungry grin as it brought its head to Ruby. “What was that?”

The scholar gulped. “Feed me.”

The dragon stared expectantly, its incandescent eyes wide.

“Please.”

Weiss’ lips rose smugly, its tongue lashing the backs of its teeth like it was about to verbally flay and/or devour Ruby Rose, but it set the scholar down without doing either. “Good,” it rumbled. “You're humbled, as you should be. For your humility, I will hear out whatever proposal you have for getting you fed, however stupid it will be. You appreciate my magnanimity, I'm sure.”

Ruby scowled. “I can't hunt.”

“Surely not.”

“Does anything grow here?”

The dragon shifted its jaw in thought. “Mushrooms and lichen, sometimes— if I haven't scoured it in a long while. The books would moulder if not for the stasis enchantment I placed on that room.”

“Stasis?”

“Anti-decay. Perpetuation,” Weiss explained casually, as if it weren't making Ruby's mind explode. “That sort of thing.”

“You can stop things from rotting?” Ruby asked excitedly. “That's incredible! Weiss, that kind of magic could change the world, that could save villages, cities, nations!”

Weiss shook its head dismissively again. “Of course it could. I made it, after all.”

“You crafted the spell?” Ruby squeaked. “That's— that's incredible! You're incredible! Weiss, that is insane!”

The dragon bared its teeth in smug amusement. “I am incredible. You can finally see that.”

“I— I've been seeing that this whole time! You're a dragon!”

Weiss chortled. “Are you not hungry anymore?”

Ruby froze. “I— of course I am! Take me to town! Please.”

The dragon leaned closer and took a deep breath, sucking enough air into its nostrils to pull at Ruby's robes. “To town? You want me to take you to town?” The dragon let out an avalanche of laughter. “Sure, Roseling. I will fly you there on my back. We’ll be greeted with open arms, certainly.”

“Obviously not,” Ruby complained with a snort, as if she were in on the dragon’s joke and about to add to it. “Just teleport us there and turn into a human.”

Weiss laughed again, uproariously, loud enough to shake the walls and make Ruby cover her ears. “Aha! Hahaha! You, my Roseling, are the third funniest thing in my entire hoard.”

Ruby blushed at being addressed like that, for some indiscernible reason. “Third?”

“Behind the last good human joke-book and the personal diary of Salem Luminarius.”

Ruby laughed. “What would be so funny about a lich’s diary?”

“Her glyphwork. Her runes are scrawled like a blind child did them, they're hilariously awful. They'd barely hold a charge of anything— that's why her phylactery died a couple centuries ago. It just leaked her entire soul into the aether!” Weiss giggled in a way unbecoming of itself. “Embarrassing!”

Weiss was actually taken fully by that wave of mirth, closing all of its eyes tight as it laughed and laughed. When they opened again, they found Ruby, sickly pale and looking very close to vomiting. 

Ruby’s pink lips flapped. “You… you actually… you have her phylactery?”

Weiss nodded. “And her journal.”

“You… how…”

Weiss opened its mouth.

“N-no!’ Ruby denied, deflating with a look of distant horror. “No. I don't want to know. Just teleport us to town.”

“That is not funny the second time.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” the dragon stated. “If you are insistent on telling jokes, refer to my joke-book first. It is the funniest thing your people will ever produce.”

Ruby, surprising herself, was not at all shocked to hear the joke-book was apparently real, too. “I'm not joking. Weiss, you can teleport, right?”

Weiss threw its head aside petulantly. “I certainly could, if it were possible. I am too large for a teleportation circle.”

Ruby blinked hard, reeling, her head shaking with confusion. “T— teleportation circle?” She barked a laugh. “What is this, the Age of Fae? Nobody uses a circle anymore. Do you really not—”

Weiss suddenly threw its head forwards, flinging Ruby back to the ground with a huff. “Have respect for your owner, Roseling. Of course I know what you're talking about, I just… am cursed not to travel that way.”

Ankle still smarting, Ruby winced and got back to her feet. “Curses can't bind you like that.”

The dragon huffed. “This one does.”

“I can show you, you know.”

Weiss’ whole, massive head snapped towards Ruby like a cracking whip, displacing enough air to blow her charcoal robes back. “You will.”

Ruby felt her chest heave towards the dragon, her thoughts lurching in tandem, her whole being desperate to follow Weiss’ compulsion. With tangible effort and a burning pain in her chest, Ruby bit down on that feeling. “Not unless you promise to come with,” she defied through gritted teeth. “In human form.”

“I don't have a human form,” Weiss hissed.

Ruby seethed, resisting herself. “Then figure it out!”

Weiss growled. It snarled, and it was an awful sound, one that awoke goose-pimples along Ruby’s skin and had her shivering instinctively, but she held her ground. Weiss kept snarling, closing the distance, opening her maw to break the unruly scholar with fear. 

Ruby remained resolute.

Weiss, physically unable to kill the human, huffed. “Fine. I don't care. Show me the magic.”

Ruby's silver eyes glimmered with resolve. “Change first, that way I can trust you.”

Surprising Ruby, the massive dragon flinched before her. “You… do not trust me?”

It sounded genuinely hurt, which made Ruby cock her head. “No? Why would I? I don't know you that well. You're an incredible thing, yes, but humans don't really trust like that.”

Weiss flinched again. “I am not a thing. I am a dragon. We do not have such… human predilections towards trickery.”

“And what about the thing about teleportation, huh?” Ruby probed. “You lied about your ability, you have no idea how to do it.”

The dragon squirmed. “I… did not lie, I… I was confident in… in…” A word bubbled in its throat, an ugly one, one which looked like it physically hurt on the way out. “My ignorance.”

Ruby watched the dragon slump with defeat. Her own heart fell, and she was pretty sure that was on her own accord, not some emotional compulsion for sympathy. She limped to the dragon and laid a hand on its heel. The scales were cool to the touch. “Uh… sorry, Weiss. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I am a dragon! A petty human like you could never hurt my feelings!” Weiss whined, its pitch and wavering tone displaying obvious hurt, self-pity, and shame. “Be silent!”

“I didn't—”

“Silence!”

Ruby went silent. She kept her hand on the dragon. It was either too big to feel her or it didn't care.

When Weiss spoke up again, its voice was hoarse with defeat. “I… give me a moment. And stay still, Roseling. I need an impression of your form if I'm to construct my own.”

Ruby remained silent, and did not move. She kept her hand where it was until the dragon moved, turning wholly around to lie back down in front of her. Weiss’ head bent low, all six eyes affixed to her scholar.

“I… own you, human,” it said unsurely, as if trying to convince itself rather than Ruby. The scholar bowed politely, pitying the dragon.

“Of course. Thank you.”

“Don't speak.”

“Of course.”

Weiss growled.

Ruby giggled. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

The dragon harrumphed, and waited for its scholar’s giggles to properly subside before it moved. It dragged its great front claws towards her, both hands cupping into a halo around Ruby’s body. All six eyes glowed blue, flashed white, then closed. A warbling blueness overcame the scholar. Her body rang like a tuning fork.

“An impressive lineage, Roseling,” the dragon mused lowly, its eyes still closed. “Yet your own aptitude is… middling, at best.”

Ruby shifted, laughing awkwardly. “Uh… y-yeah, uh…”

“Be silent.”

Ruby buttoned her lips. 

The dragon’s lids twitched, and Ruby’s chest became a void. “Oh. I see.”

The claws separated, freeing Ruby from their encirclement. Weiss’ eyes opened, glaring down at the human, spears of gleaming ice that hooked into her ribs.

“And when exactly did you plan on telling me that you had that… thing in your chest?”

Weiss’ words were slow and careful, but edged to the point of danger. Ruby winced. 

“Did you think you could sneak into my lair and snip a piece from my claw? Did you hope to make a wish on it? Did you think you could siphon my blood without me noticing, that you could concoct some cure?”

“No!” Ruby answered frantically, splaying her hands out wide. “I never believed any of that stuff, I just…”

Ruby's arms sagged to her sides. Weiss watched, waited, its six eyes unblinking.

“I've always loved dragons. I've heard so much— everyone said they were extinct— but I knew I could find one. You. All the signs were there, but nobody knew to look for them, nobody could remember your… intelligence. All the legends were just ‘big, scary lizard, breathes fire, eats people—’”

“Eugh, as if I’d eat one of you—”

“But I knew!” Ruby declared, suddenly loud, thumping her chest and wincing every time. Her mouth stayed open for something louder, something definitive, but it died in her throat, and it's weight dragged her down with it. “Nobody really believed me. Nobody cared about my study. I've got…” she laughed mirthlessly, cruelly. “I've got two books just on… geckos. It's useless. It's embarrassing.”

Weiss opened its mouth, but Ruby raised her hand to interrupt. Surprisingly, it obliged.

“But I knew. I just wanted to see if I was right, before I…” Ruby rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, then scratched at her chest. “I don't have much time left. I can feel it.”

Weiss rumbled low. Doleful. Angry. Possessive. “Show me the construct.”

Ruby flushed red and backed away in a panic, hands clutching her robes tightly over her chest. “I— I can't do that! That's—”

The dragon huffed. “Show me before I compel you to show me.”

Ruby stuck up her chin, defiant. “I resisted it once.”

“You will not manage again.”

The scholar stared those six eyes down, summoning all her human courage to stand tall against the beast. She willed herself to resist. She willed herself to be strong.

Weiss gave her a slow, unimpressed blink, and compelled her scholar.

Ruby undid the pins of her robes and folded open the front, scowling as she bent obediently to the dragon's will. Her blush traveled down her collar, splotching red over her neck, then visibly over her chest as she exposed the construct.

Ruby Rose's heart was in a tube of brass. Ruby Rose’s heart was a golem core, a multicolored gemstone buzzing and whirring with silvery wisps of arcane energy. Ruby Rose's heart was covered in cracks. 

Crimson energy seeped from every rift in the core, brightly illuminating each split in the gemstone. Ruby turned away, unable to cover herself again. Weiss craned closer.

“Blood of Oum,” the dragon cursed, it's eyes fixed solely on the construct. “You made this?”

Ruby grit her teeth. “We're not as predisposed to trickery as you think.”

“Evidently. And how much of your heart remained by the time you finished the work?”

The scholar grimaced so hard she feared her cheeks would rip. “Half.”

Weiss stared for a moment longer before dropping the compulsion. Ruby immediately pinned her robes back in place, her face the color of her namesake. “On your deathbed— no, halfway in your grave.”

“Stop talking about it.”

“Stop talking about it?” the dragon parroted, aghast. “How could I ever! Ruby, you are a font! You are a singular talent! This thing you've done— and with the noose of the heavens already around your neck— it is incomparable! I would trade you for half— more than half of my hoard! And now—”

“I'm already in your hoard, Weiss.”

The dragon jolted back and shook its head, blinking hard. Its eyes narrowed. Its nostrils twitched. 

Ruby watched as Weiss brought its claws up again, blue-white energy snapping between each one for only a moment before they clapped together, creating a blinding, deafening flash that sent the scholar to the floor. She belatedly threw a hand over her face and scrubbed at her eyes, blinking the colorful spots from her sight. Her ears rang.

Ruby’s vision cleared after a moment. Weiss was before her. A human, skinny and short, with skin the same shining, pearly whiteness as the waist-length hair. Weiss’ eyes were still blue on black sclera, now with two major eyes and two pairs of tiny ones clustered at the outside corners of their larger twins. She was also naked. She was also a ‘she’.

Ruby, coming from such an emotional lowpoint to this, floundered. “You're a girl!”

Weiss looked down at herself, her slender hands feeling up her own sides. “I thought I was a human.”

“A female human!” Ruby shrieked, hiding her eyes behind her hands, then spreading her finger so she could look anyways. “A girl!”

“Is that what this is?” Weiss started feeling at her own face, pulling her ears, tweaking her nose, tugging her lips. “Why are you humans so… flappy.”

“You have six eyes!”

Weiss blinked at her obviously.

“Still!”

“Of course I do,” she stated, her human voice high and pitchy— noble, some would probably say. “These aren't natural, you know. I added them, and they're not as malleable as the rest of me.”

“But— but you're a girl!”

The human that was now Weiss pointed accusingly at her scholar. “Don't act so perturbed, I got it from you!” In a very human gesture, she crossed her arms and turned away, chin held imperiously high. “And I happen to like it.”

“Well, you need clothes!” Ruby whined. “Cover yourself, it's rude!”

“Why would I cover this?” Weiss asked, gesturing over herself confidently. “I am a perfect specimen of humanity. Your people will be delighted to see me.”

Ruby, unfortunately, agreed with that notion. That people would like to see her, that is. Creepy people. Not Ruby. She did not like seeing Weiss, which was why she had her hand over her face. She was only peeping through her fingers to make sure nothing was wrong. “Some will, then they'll throw you out for indecency! Or arrest you! Then execute you!”

Weiss snorted. “I'd like to see them try.”

“Just put on some damn clothes! Please!”

The now-human dragon waved her off. “Fine, fine,” she muttered, her hands flashing together again, much less blindingly this time. “Better?”

Ruby observed the human Weiss before her, taking in the outfit. She wore almost an exact copy of Ruby's robes— pinned close to the torso, but loose around the arms and waist— only her collar was pinned scandalously open, exposing the milky skin of her neckline and the shading of her pronounced collarbone. In addition, the whole thing seemed to be made of silk rather than Ruby's linen, which baffled the scholar. “Where'd you get that?”

“I made it,” Weiss answered casually. “Vellum and parchment transmute easily to silk. From there I just made what you have, only better.”

Ruby sniffed at ‘better’, but said nothing to oppose it. “Well… it’s good. Cover your chest, though.”

Weiss puffed her chest out in petulant riposte, which made Ruby turn away. “I will not, what I have is plenty.” She approached the scholar aggressively, stomping hard with her shoulders set in a way that didn’t match the easy expression on her face— consequences of going from dragon to human, Ruby supposed. “Now show me your teleportation.”

--

Showing Weiss the trick to teleportation without a circle mostly consisted of Ruby explaining, then having the experience of watching Weiss’ face cascade into a series of ‘it was so obvious, how did you idiots find that out’ expressions. It was very fun to watch until Ruby realized she was openly staring at Weiss’ face.

Thankfully, the dragon in human skin hadn’t noticed (or hadn’t cared), and teleported them both before Ruby even finished her explanation, dropping the both of them in the central square of the closest city: Vale.

Bustling crowds stopped, looked at them for half a second, then went about their day.

“W-Weiss!” Ruby panicked, grabbing the other girl and hiding her face with her robe’s sleeve. “Hide your eyes, people will freak out!”

Weiss smirked up at her. “Oh please,” she said in Ruby’s mother-tongue. “My magical eyes wouldn’t be nearly as strange as you openly speaking Draconic.” She frowned at herself. “Ugh, Dra-co-nic? That’s really what you people call it? So unimaginative.”

Ruby had to consciously search for her own language, speaking like a dragon just felt so natural now, as if she’d been speaking it for years. “Shut up,” she managed, emboldened by the fact Weiss was no longer several storeys taller than her. “People will notice.”

Weiss pushed the scholar’s arm down and motioned to the people around them, none of whom even turned. “Nobody cares, Ruby. And if they do, what I have isn’t any stranger than what you have.”

That was delivered with a bitterness that made Ruby recoil— not directed at her, but somewhere close enough that it still hurt. Nonetheless, she protested, “Well I don’t go around flaunting my chest, unlike some people!”

“Nobody is looking! Nobody cares!” Weiss darted to the nearest stall— a fruit stand— and leaned over the display to jeer at the man inside. “Hello! Hello, human! Look at my chest! My flesh is bared in this specific region! ARE YOU TANTALIZED?” 

Ruby yanked her away by the collar of her robes, dragging her fully out of the square while Weiss held a smug, satisfied grin. Ruby, on the other hand, was burning crimson. “Weiss! Act normal! I’m human, I’ve been living as one my whole life, so please have some tact and listen!”

Weiss opened her mouth, but clapped it shut at the authority the scholar wielded through her raised brows. When it was clear she would defer to her, Ruby sighed in relief.

“Thank you. Now, all we have to do is grab some food and some other essentials you can’t transmute— I would assume you can turn the trees surrounding your lair into wooden furniture, right?”

Weiss cocked her head. Ruby pointed to a nearby bench.

“Furniture. Chairs, beds, things like that. For my accommodations.”

“Accommodations? Who said I was accommodating you? You’re my property.”

Ruby rolled her lambent grey eyes. “Because you’re nice and a magnanimous master of your hoard,” she said, deadpan and blatantly sarcastic. “And because I’m dying. Let my last slumber be on a bed.”

Weiss’ whole body went rigid, her eyes locking to Ruby’s. She visibly bit the insides of her cheeks. “Right,” she mumbled through her teeth. “We will get you some food.”

The scholar nodded. With a plan made, Weiss reluctantly followed Ruby along the disorganized streets of Vale, scowling with disgust but nonetheless paying rapt attention whenever they passed someone in the middle of a human bodily function. At one point, Weiss had the opportunity to witness a back-alley robbery, but Ruby stopped her by wrapping their hands together to keep pulling her along.

Weiss stared at the hand in hers, and was shocked by how warm it was. It made her realize how cold she was. She could feel her own temperature wherever Ruby touched. The red-hot fingers were like a light in the dark, shone directly into the eyes of someone who’d never seen light before, blinding, but impossible to turn away from. Without scales, she could feel them in a way she’d never felt anything before— softly. Skin-on-skin, hot against cold. Curious, Weiss clasped her own fingers around Ruby’s, squeezing them tightly. There was a little give before she could feel the bone structure. The flesh was warm. The palms were soft in some places, rough in others, which Weiss felt at by rubbing her thumb between their interlocked hands.

Ruby stopped after a while. Weiss noted the rush of red beneath her face. The scholar slipped her hand out of Weiss’ with a conflicted look that was unrecognizable. She had found a cart with an oven on it, and spoke to the fellow manning it. When she turned back to Weiss and spoke, the once-dragon jumped.

“S-sorry, what?” Weiss said, shaking her head hard at her own apology. “I mean, what do you want?”

That strange look passed over Ruby’s face again, this time with an edge of something that Weiss assumed to be guilt. “I, uh, don’t have money,” the scholar admitted.

Weiss raised her hands uncomprehendingly. “Okay?”

Ruby led her with a nod of her head. “You don’t have any?”

“Did you see me conjure any with this robe?” Weiss mocked, wiggling her large, drooping sleeve. “No? Well, there’s your answer. Dolt.”

Ruby’s voice became hot and hushed. “I already ordered, we have to pay somehow!”

“We? The food is yours! It’s your responsibility!”

“And I’m your property, so the real responsibility lies on you!”

Weiss growled. “I. Don’t. Have. Any!”

“Summon some!”

“That’s not how anything works!”

“Figure something—”

“Pies’re done!” the oven-cart man announced, pulling a pair of steaming round things out of the mobile furnace. “Ladies! And if ya don’t mind me askin’, what sort’a strange speak’re you two doin’?”

Weiss and Ruby looked at the man, then at each other, both equally unaware of how their languages had switched. Ruby looked into her eyes and, as seemed to be her wont of late, went red. Weiss felt her own face warm.

With a flick of one dainty wrist, Weiss beamed the food-man right between the eyes with a ice-colored ray of magic. “F-free,” she commanded, stuttering a little for some reason. “They’re free. For us. Thank you. Rubytakethem.”

Ruby, with only a brief look of horror towards the dragon who was now a human, dashed over to the food-man and took the pies. She yelped the moment she scooped them up, but managed to drop them onto a nearby public table before she developed burns. Ruby sighed.

“Sit down,” she told Weiss, nodding to the seat across from her.

Weiss took the seat beside her instead. Ruby gulped and focused on her own steaming food thing. “What is that?” Weiss asked, leaning close to her scholar.

Ruby stiffened again. “Meat pie. Pie crust, pie stuff,” she claimed, motioning to the bread-colored parts of the ‘meat pie’. “The meat’s inside.”

Weiss bent further down to smell Ruby’s pie, doing so in a way that got as much of her body to touch Ruby’s as possible. The girl was warm, and she was cold. “It smells nice.”

Ruby turned away and coughed, pushing her other pie to Weiss. “Eat it,” she said quickly, as if saying it slower would make her stutter.

“Huh? No. That sounds… ew.”

Ruby kept her face turned away, but glared at Weiss with one eye. “You’ll make me spend one of my last meals alone? Here I thought dragons had honor.”

Weiss instantly soured. “Stop saying that.”

“Why?”

Weiss stared down at her meat pie. After a moment of deliberation, she started shoveling chunks of it into her mouth with her hands. Ruby made a noise of horror, but she ignored the scholar. She ate. The food tasted like taste. She’d never tasted before.

She’d also never been a human before. She’d never had a reason to be one, cramming her glorious body into this form would only make her library more difficult to fully access, and she’d have to deal with being a human. She’d have human hands that burned when she shoved them into a meat pie, though it wasn’t the same kind of burn she got from Ruby’s hands. Ruby’s hands burned in a new way. Did the construct make her hotter? Or was it just Weiss?

She’d never had one human heart beating in her chest. Always four, easier to pump blood with, but this singular thing was… odd. More vulnerable. If one of her own hearts got destroyed, she still had three left; that’d give her enough time to reconstruct the fourth.

But having just one was awful. She felt small with it. She felt like someone would come up behind her and stab it, and the three thousand years of Weiss would splatter all over her meat pie. The idea made her chest tight. She ate burning food so she wouldn’t notice. It didn’t help much.

Ruby had zero hearts, and yet her body wasn’t coiled in the way Weiss’ was. Sure, she was throwing herself at the now-human in an attempt to stop her from shoving more meat pie in her face, but she didn’t have an inherent tightness. She seemed free. Loose. Like she’d done the one thing she wanted, which, Weiss realized, was probably accurate. Meeting her. She’d only wanted to catch a glimpse to die happy, and she was dying. Weiss had seen that much with her own eyes, with her own magic. Sure, she didn’t seem bad now, but such was the nature of golem cores. Ruby Rose would operate as-normal until the moment it ran out, then she would die all at once. The girl who had built a heart, outpacing her own dying one, would lose to that beating death-knell in the end. Weiss would have her books, but the world would forget Ruby’s knowledge. 

The one heart was doing something to Weiss. Something bad. It beat its tha-thump, tha-thump tempo one note at a time, which made it all the more strange when Ruby’s warmth sped it up. The one thing in her chest twisted. It wrenched. It was afraid. It was angry.

Like anything else in her hoard, Ruby was hers. Nothing would take that away. Not if Weiss could help it.

[memepocalypse]

Fucking Furious

Time to get mad! Lots of angry swear words in this one, folks.

"Fuck off."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, fuck me."

"I'm fucked off."

"You're fucking with me."

"This is fucking stupid."

"You're fucking ridiculous."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Leave me the fuck alone."

"Why the fuck are you here?"

"I've had e-fucking-nough."

"Get fucked."

"I'm going the fuck home."

"You need to go to fucking hospital!"

"Is this a fucking joke?"

"Oh, my fucking god."

"Fuck you, fuck me, and fuck all of them."

"Fuck."

"Fucking hell."

"I'm so fucking confused."

"Yeah, I'm fucking mad!"

"That's fucked."

"You fucked up."

"I fucked up."

"You can't fucking walk in here, say all this fucking shit, and expect me to be okay."

[strayheartless]

Things heard in the land of departure:

Riku: you know sometimes I think I’ve had enough of today. But then Roxas throws his keyblade full force at my head; Kairi manages to flood the training room while I’m the one babysitting trainees and I think “oh! I was wrong! Now I’ve had e-fucking-nough of today!”

Sora: it only kills me if I die!

Roxas: I regret to inform the council that I have settled on being the problem child today.

Aqua: if anyone needs me I’ll be screaming into the void.

Ven: you know, vanitas isn’t all that bad once you get to know him. he’s only tried to take over my entire being like… *starts counting on his fingers*

Sora: you gunna cry?! Oh, shit man your actually crying! Do you need to talk?

Isa: if I mutilate my face again do I still have to participate?

Roxas: 🎶 someone made my best friend cry, do da do da. That punk ass bitch is gunna die, oh do do da day🎶 *jazz hands*

Terra: I’ll admit, historically I have not always made decisions that place me on the moral high ground. Yet today I find myself with the absolute pleasure of getting to say “ I told you so!”

Aqua: *bodily hands Kairi to Riku like she’s a badly behaved cat* Take her before I do something everyone but me regrets.

Kairi: I’m my defence Lea said ‘probably not’ and he should really know better then to challenge me like that.

Sora: “oh sora, why aren’t you a master yet? Oh sora, when are you planning on retaking the mark of mastery?” Well Susan I’d actually planned on not almost dying every month of the year first!

Ven: It scares me that soon I’ll be the grown up kids need to take with them to Disney town.

Xion: wait no! Why does Kairi have a battle axe?!? Parlé, Parlé PARLÉ!!!!!

Riku: After some careful consideration I’ve decided to give up. Thank you for understanding.

Ven: why is the floor talking?!? *Terra pops up from behind a counter* oh, that’s why.

Lea: *after going toe to toe with Terra* “a little master vs student never hurt.” WRONG I am VeRy mUcH hUrT!

Roxas: People often ask me why I decided to train under Riku if I hate him so much. The answer is quite simple really, How else am I meant to ensure is suffering?

Xion: Master Aqua says that the gods give the hardest battles to the strongest soldier. What I wanna know is, is that legally binding? Cause I don’t remember signing shit!

Riku: I’d ask why you are covered in glitter, but at this point I’ve accepted my fate. *gets attacked by a glittery Sora and Kairi*

Isa: do you ever just… regret existence?

Lea: oh yeah, all the time!

Ven: today I made the mistake of telling Roxas to bite me… now I think I need stitches.

Sora: For all I’m famous for being able to fall asleep anywhere, I sure do be allergic to falling asleep in bed.

Ven & Roxas: mood.

Terra: I shall be unavailable until further notice. I’m not busy I’m just sick of looking at all of you.

[acepalindrome]

The problem with wanting to write a lore-heavy Dragon Age story is I’m spending far too much time planning out the world state. Do I make Leliana the Divine in this world, or Vivienne? It’s not Cassandra, I don’t like making her give up her sword.

I’m thinking Vivienne for this specific case, because it’s about mage stuff. I want to write about Emmrich’s experiences with the Harrowing. His own traumatic experience being forced to face a fear demon, seeing his students go through it over the years and how frightening and awful it is for them, losing some students to their Harrowing, and that heartbreak for the loss of young life turning into anger as he realizes more and more that this practice is cruel and wrong and tries to argue that they need to find a better way that doesn’t terrorize or outright kill their students….but he doesn’t really go to war about it until years later when he’s informed that Manfred will have to go through the Harrowing, and then he decides that enough is e-fucking-nough.

Maybe exploring a little of what went down with the Mage Rebellion too and how that affected things, and the intense frustration of seeing reforms in how mages are treated, but we’re still doing Harrowings? Really????

[elijahfalvey]

WHERE / Elijah and Nilay's home, Deer Park.

WHEN / After Roman and Elijah's altercation at La Galleria.

WITH / Nilay Bailey — @doctornilaybailey.

Every atom that made up Elijah’s body relaxed as the soft sound of the front door latching into place clicked behind him, as he tossed his car keys onto the entryway table with a clang and released a shaky breath. Deep in the back of his throat still tasted like a heinous mixture of bile and nicotine, and he was absolutely positive that the dirty stench travelled from the public men’s room of La Galleria all the way to his own home, hitching a ride on his clothes. He wanted to gag once more, just thinking about it, reliving the short memory of his head hanging over the urine-stained toilet — fuck, he needed stop thinking about it. Roman’s words had echoed mercilessly through his mind on the drive back, like they always did — another factor that made him want to hurl all over again. Because it wasn’t e-fucking-nough that he tormented him in person, both emotionally and physically, now, at this point, he just had to stick to his every thought like a deadly parasite. He just had to pick, and pick, and pick. Even when he wasn't fucking here. The house was quieter than his mind. Much, much quieter — usually a solid indication that the two young girls retired to their bedrooms for the night, sleeping away the events of the day until light started spilling through their princess-themed curtains. Elijah wished it were that easy for him, already dreading the increasing possibility that rest would evade him in a few hours’ time, like it always fucking did after Roman Daniels verbally had his way with him. Stop, stop, stop. Stop thinking about Roman, he thought. He toed his shoes off from his feet and kicked them towards the closet, swearing to himself that he’d put them in the right place later. If he remembered. He probably wouldn’t. But sure enough, every syllable of what he said would ring through his ears — The sound of shuffling behind him broke him free from his cycle and he turned around, willing a tired smile to his face. “Hey, babe,” he greeted as his hands immediately flew into the air, like he was holding them out to stop her before she could even form a thought. “Don’t kiss me. I, uh - I need to brush my teeth first,” he warned. He knew that Nilay would likely press on it, because kissing her after a meal had never been an issue before, and she knew exactly where he’d been, but nevertheless he wasn’t about to let her so much as peck him for the sake of coming across like everything was fine. In fact, hugging was probably even equally unfair to her; he sidestepped away in the hopes she couldn’t already figure out why, just by the state of him. He began to head towards the staircase, looking up the steps curiously as he asked, “Are the, um - the girls in bed? They get to sleep okay?”

[kmclaude]

Ive been listening to Jesus He Knows Me lately (Ghost just released the music video for their cover and its great) and its got me thinking of an AU were Tiefer goes on to become like a superstar priest/televangelist. Puts on an act about how Jesus saved him from his terrible childhood abuse, Jehan is his protege who he treats as his own son after his father died, maybe he's even got a wife he pretends to love (only in front of others) Absolute debauchery and abuse out of the public eye of course

not me like 'he could marry his sister' no but he sure could marry a wife that looks like her (honestly she fits the blonde t r a d wife look)

i am devouring this, brilliant, debauched, lovely

(honestly I was thinking about a question @idalwaves asked or reblogged about if being a different flavor of christian would like...how it would change tiefer or jehan's relationship to their sexuality or something -- like would bein southern baptist or fundie work -- and anyway it had me thinking about basically how catholicism is perfect for someone like tiefer who is gay and loathes women, whereas something like fundie or southern baptist that expects a patriarchical figure with a wife and kid, the family man archetype, would be painful for him. like torture to have to fake a loving marriage to a woman.)

BUT IT WOULD BE DECADENT god cuz he can be charming, put on a southern drawl (his accent is southern but different southern, cajun southern, and massaged away by a more new orleanian accent flattened out), lie and lie and lie -- has a wife he fucked (timed it all right and everything, natural family planning and all) until she got pregnant (thankfully quickly) because that's what she wanted, that's what was expected -- and if he works extra hard and after hours and away from her and the home its for god, it's the right thing, it's what she signed up for, of couuuuurse he loves her, ignore that he won't touch her except for briefly in public or when she needles wanting another child (and if he knocks her up enough and then crushes some pills in her food or drink to get rid of it because three's e-fucking-nough, well, hey, what she doesn't know won't hurt her...)

AND JEHAN WELL......things could be the same: dead exlover friend's son is left without a father and, well....wouldn't be too odd for him to offer to a new widow and new mother to take her eldest (his godson) under his wing, later even let him live with them (because he only has daughters so far and one day he won't be around -- makes sense to have someone ready to take over after he's gone -- jehan would be perfect for that -- in fact, it's not his idea's, it's God's even, God put it in his heart that jehan would take up after him -- so why not let him spend a summer with them...and winter...and spring...)

and you KNOW he is fucking jehan -- maybe he waits a bit longer than canonically, properly has him under his thumb until he's fifteen or sixteen (very much the adolescens that he finds attractive) or maybe it starts right after nathan died (he's not even attracted to a 10 year old's body -- not that canonically he's into a 12 year old's body either but at least puberty is hitting and it reminds him of him and nathan in their youth and he's not coping well -- but it's a heady thing, power, and he's been able to get wealth and opened doors and it's a far cry from being a beaten faggot whore on his sister's leash being whored out so why not, why not, it's not like jehan's upset about it, he always gets to cum, and it's not like his wife knows, it's not like anyone knows, why not? who's gonna stop him? God?)

basically tiefer would be soooooo much worse. not that he's great canonically but add wealth and power without rules?! (Catholicism at least has rules.) C H R I S T.

(honestly if you wanted to get real fucked up -- televangelism would probably make this also a modern or modernish AU -- say 80s or 90s at earliest making Tiefer being born....instead of 1930s, probably 1950s or 60s...and well....the implications of being able to take photo or video....well.....well....)

[imaginespazzi]

three

oh my god it’s this one(i read the warnings)

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,”  what an opening

“When Azzi’s 14,” all the way to “Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken.” makes me want to whip out the glock

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.” drew messier than ice and flaujae 

paige clocking zoe is so funny to me

azzi is having a very hypocritical moment rn “mine” fuck u talking abt ur married

“She has a girlfriend,” DEVIOUS

“There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them.” 🙂🔫

“There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?” i feel so bad for zoe she was just in the wrong place at the right time my poor baby

“But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little.” E FUCKING NOUGH

“Paige, I was looking for you-” what u over here being messy for

paige says fuck a lot when they getting down and dirty

“She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean. And then she gets up and goes on with her day.” azzi.

as you can see i had a lot of thoughts! onto four

I don't even remember the warnings...

azzi is having a very hypocritical moment rn “mine” fuck u talking abt ur married - well she's not married in her head?

Babe do you want Azzi or Zoe? I can't tell...

had a lot of thoughts - and the thoughts are just calling me evil?