#elegant dancing frog

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Uncharismatic Fact of the Day

If there's one thing elegant dancing frogs are good at, it's giving 'em the old razzle dazzle. This species gets its name from the way males will wave their feet in the air to attract females. This behaviour may have come about as a way to display their strenght and the length of their legs-- both important traits to look for in a partner.

(Image: A male elegant dancing frog () showing off his moves by Sathyabhama Das Biju)

If you like what I do, consider buying me a ko-fi!

[bestfrogbracket]

Elegant Dancing Frog: They’re named after their peculiar method which they use to show off for breeding. On top of calling and showing off their bright white vocal sac, males will kick and stomp their hind legs to impress females. Sometimes, they even fight each other by doing this! Here’s a video of some unidentified members of the Micrixalus genus doing this. M. elegans specifically was once suspected to be extinct, until their rediscovery in 2010 along the fast-flowing streams of Western India.

Amazon Milk Frog: This species’ most common name is after their ability to secrete a milky white fluid when stressed. Another common name, the blue milk frog, is a clear reference to the bright blue inside of their mouths and the tint lent to their skin from their blue blood. Although they’re often kept in captivity, in the wild they’re entirely arboreal except for when they descend to lay their eggs in tree holes filled with water.

[juleswritesstuff]

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

“Would you like to draw them ?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trembling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth before enveloping it wholly.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading 💖

[fieldofdaisiies]

Kinktober Drabble 7 - Azris

request: can you please do Azris and something with fire, fireplay … if you feel comfortable, I bet Eris would be so gentle and careful | masterlist | ao3

“I‘ll be careful,” Eris whispers against the corner of Azriel‘s lips before he straightens up. “I promise.”

The shadowsinger knows this, he knows he can fully trust his mate and yet an enormous amount of gratitude and love fills his chest. His body is tense, stiff, but relaxes with every second that passes. With every second he holds Eris‘ gaze and finds nothing but warmth and admiration in them.

Slowly, Azriel dips his chin to his chest, and smiles. He is ready for what they are going to try. They have been intimate a lot within the past months, the past year, have tried many things, but never something like this. Something including fire. Something that calls for more trust than anything else they have done before.

“I trust you,” the shadowsinger tells Eris, his voice a whisper and yet firm. “I always do. I love you and I want this.”

Eris bows slowly, all of his movements always elegant, High-Lord-like. A small flame, burning in a deep orange with flecks of yellow and red, lights up the tip of his fingers. To his own surprise, Azriel doesn’t flinch, he only watches. Watches how the flame doesn’t burn his mate, doesn’t hurt the person he loves most in this world.

Carefully, Eris lowers his hand to Azriel’s chest, always looking out if the shadowsinger may change his mind, their gazes locked almost the entire time. “I love you, Azriel,” the High Lord whispers and his palm finally touches the spymaster’s chest, hot and soft.

One small flame stays when Eris lifts his hand again, and almost like one of his own shadows, skims across his skin, warm, hot, but not too much. It heats his skin, his blood, but it doesn’t burn him. It doesn’t hurt him.

Just like Eris does. He keeps him warm and safe when he needs it, but would never use his powers to bring hurt upon him.

Azriel‘s abdominal muscles are as hard as rock as he watches the flame dance across it, wonder and a hint of surprise sparkling in his eyes. How is it possible that a flame can‘t hurt him?

As if he can read his mind, Eris says with a smile, “They are as much part of me as your shadows are of you. My flames would never harm what I love most in this world.”

…..harm what I love most in this world. Tears almost immediately spring to Azriel’s eyes and he rapidly wipes at them with his palm, hearing Eris‘ rich and warm laugh in his ears.

“You should have known so by now, my mate,” the High Lord adds in an amused tone and guides his flame to stroke across Azriel’s abdomen. “That I am hopelessly devoted to you, my love. I am yours, utterly and completely. Madly in love with you, your warm heart and witty brain. And your glorious body.” Eris is grinning, his eyes dropping Azriel’s cock and his gaze alone is enough to make him hard.

“You are perfect,” Eris growls and leans in, his hips pushing against Azriel’s hardness. “And fully mine. Mine to love, to pleasure and to devour.”

As Eris’ hand curls around Azriel’s shaft, tender and soft, flames still line the tips of his digits and a stunning, breathtaking grin graces his lips he begins to stroke his mate, and the flames burning like wildfires in his eyes resemble those on his hands.

tags: @azrielsbabyg@lady-riel@moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt (no smut) @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @jules-writes-stories @unanswered-stars @christeareads @mistandmemories @bookishbroadwaybish @c-starstuff-man0 @the-darkestminds @talibunny30 @nestasgoodside @baileybird71

[real-reulbbr-band]

Translating all the CATS Asia tour (2017) character descriptions!

Admetus, the Considerate cat is a kind cat who protects kittens. He is a thoughtful and easygoing cat.

Alonzo, the righteous cat. A proud and masculine cat. On the outside, he is lively and dynamic, but deep down, he is still uncertain about himself.

Bill Bailey the acrobatic cat is an adolescent cat who specializes in fluid dance moves and acrobatics, and is tough and confident.

Bombalurina, the sensual cat; she is extremely sensual and sexy, especially popular among the male cats. She shares a special bond of empathy with Demeter.

Bustopher Jones, the rich cat is not a Jellicle cat, but he is an aristocratic cat who is welcomed by all, enjoys golfing in his spare time and loves a big feast of delicious food.

Carbucketty, the reckless cat is a feisty cat that often gets into trouble.

Cassandra the Siamese Cat, she has a four-dimensional spiritual world with a mysterious beauty. As the only hairless Siamese cat, she is always confident and maintains an air of elegance and pride.

(4D is Korean slang for someone who has a weird, eccentric personality. They seem to live in their own strange world, often behaving unusually or unexpectedly. Though it may seem like an insult, calling someone 4D is actually considered a compliment, and 4D idols are loved for their weirdness.) 

Demeter, a sensitive cat, she is anxious and irritable about Macavity, always thinking that Macavity is nearby.

Electra, a busy cat, likes to intervene here and there, so she is always busy and distracted. She is an adorable, fluffy young kitten.

George, a braggart cat. is a spontaneous, stubborn and dignified cat always on the alert.

Tantomile & Coricopat, the twin cats. As feral cats they are wild, have excellent cognitive abilities, and have a sixth sense that other cats do not have.

Grizabella, the Mesmerizing cat, was once a beautiful cat and a member of the Jellicles, but she has gone to the world outside of the Jellicles and has gone through a painful and difficult time, and now she is old and shabby. She wants to come back, but is ostracized.

Gus, the theater cat. The second oldest cat after the prophet cat. He was a famous actor in his younger days, but now suffers from palsy.

Jemima, the curious cat, best friends with Victoria. She is a curious, intelligent, and innocent kitten.

Jennyanydots, the Gumbie cat; She always sits around during the day, seeming lazy, but at night she is busy educating the kittens. She is like a mother to the Jellicle cats.

Jellylorum, the kind cat; she always takes care of old Gus and looks after the young kittens. She is a warm-hearted cat.

Macavity, the villainous cat. The mafia of the cats; he is the center of evil, notorious for committing crimes and kidnapping other cats.

Mr. Mistoffelees, the magician cat; he can make objects disappear and reappear. He can perform various kinds of magic and is very competitive.

Mungojerrie & Rumpleteazer, the thief cat couple; a playful and resourceful burglar cat couple who are always together and get into trouble, but are also fun and lively.

Munkustrap, the Moderator cat. He protects and cares for the Jellicle members. He has a noble, royal-like dignity and serves as the guardian of all the cats.

Old Deuteronomy, the prophet cat. The leader and ancestor of the Jellicle cats. Wise and knowledgeable, he is respected by all. At the Jellicle ball, he chooses one cat to ascend to the Heaviside Layer and begin a new 'Jellicle' life.

Rum Tum Tugger, the rebellious cat. The most popular Jellicle cat. He has strong opinions and likes to be the center of attention. Like the tree-frog, he's opposed to everything, but his presence alone is very charismatic.

(“청개구리” is an idiomatic term which refers to the Korean folktale story of tree-frog / blue frog. In the story, the young frog causes trouble for his mother by always doing the opposite of what he’s told. If you ask him for sugar he’ll give you salt, if you tell him to quiet down for bed, he’ll make a fuss etc.)

Skimbleshanks, the railway cat. A conductor who lives at the train station. He is an organized cat responsible for everything related to the trains.

Victoria, the white cat. The purest and most innocent cat. She performs an enchanting dance for the first time at the Jellicle Ball.

[frogmoisturethief]

Wait I'm new, why do you hate ratx4? Why did you break up?

*suddenly, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. I sit in front of you, sitting with my legs crossed in a fancy chair and holding a glass of wine as I wistfully look off into the distance*

Ah, @ratdetectordetectordetectordet …. please, don’t say her name around me…. *I aggressively lean forward in my chair* BUT IF YOU MUST KNOW-

She is a liar and a cheat. Very very bad and icky rrrrat. Nowhere near suitable for an elegant frog such as myself… You see, we were to be married. I know, darling, can you believe it? Alas, we were star crossed lovers… but you know what they say about long distance relationships.

We had first fallen for each other when we realized we found each other….. cool *I put my hand over my heart dramatically*

We planned the wedding immediately… we would’ve had a beautiful reception with the Jerma rat song played during our first dance… but THEN, this DIRTY, LYING, ABUSING BEAST revealed to me that she was a WOMAN! Anyone would know that I am a straight woman, but this- this COTTEN HEADED NINNY MUGGINS!! Ahem… excuse my language… hadn’t thought to tell me that she was NOT a man!!! I felt betrayed, used, like a plastic bag from the hit pop song Firework by Mariah Perry… Obviously I called off the wedding without hesitation. It really was a shame; I worked so hard on the invitations…

Hmm…

*pulls out bottle and raises eyebrows at you*

More wine?

(@heytrinity @whoaaaoaoo @chaoticpancicle @redspacegirl thought you might enjoy reading this lol)

[peggyao3]

Pt. 27 - Lap Dances

A/N: Just when you read the title and think you know what to expect with this one, you don't 🏃

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, FMC actually can't dance, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public humiliation, non-consensual drug use, dom!Feyd

WORD COUNT: 465

"You're pathetic, pet," Feyd-Rautha drawls and her next turn has her meeting the leering gaze from his glazed eyes, fingers loosely curled around a half-empty glass. His vile companions chuckle loudly.

She knows, if only she could dance well, this torment would be over and he would discard her like a toy that has grown old and boring. But she cannot force her hips to sway with the same elegance that the other dancers possess for all one is worth. Her every terrified limb is stiff and the horrendous plastic outfit his slaves have strapped her in makes her want to curl up in shame.

It emphasizes every body part that she hates, makes her feel exposed and undesirable. She doesn't know if Feyd-Rautha actually likes her in this or if he just likes to see her suffer.

Again, she turns, arching her spine slowly when her behind is facing him. Feyd laughs and she wants nothing more than to claw his face off, but the bruises from the last time she tried still haven't quite healed. Once she faces him, she places her hands on his strong thighs, shivering from the heat of his skin. The folds of his loincloth bulge obscenely where his long, thick cock is waiting for her to finish her dance.

Even drunk and drugged, he strikes like a viper, snatching her face with one calloused hand. She squeals pitifully through puckered lips, fighting as he lifts his glass and sets it to her lips.

"You look thirsty, pet. My poor darling shouldn't go thirsty." Amber liquid spills over her mouth and she swallows hastily, unable to stop the stream that splatters down her cleavage.

Immediately, her pupils are blown wide and her tongue prickles with the scent of cinnamon and Feyd-Rautha's perfume. He lets her go with a rough shove. The music blares.

Now she can barely keep on her feet, dizzy from the drug's onslaught on her brain. She tries to go on, but after no more than three minutes, she nearly falls, catching herself on the na-Baron's thigh. His companions laugh and her ears ring from humiliation, or from the spice. Tears spill freely down her cheeks and she sinks on her knees, hiding her face in her arm.

"Ahh-h-h, come here. I don't want your mouth tonight, want your cunt." Feyd-Rautha mercifully hauls her in his lap and she nearly sobs with relief. The bit that comes now is the pleasant part of the night. His chest is hard and warm and plastic creaks as he paws at her waist and hips, ravenous black teeth finding her breasts as his cock grinds at her cunt. 

The spice makes her bold enough to fantasize that maybe — maybe — in his own rotten way, he does find her desirable.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic March 2 – prompt 2: Rictusempra – word count 967

Rictusempra - Disarms an opponent by tickling them

“You… You… You… Id…iot.”

Now, normally Remus would have used way worse insults for that particular situation, but he was laughing so much that that was all he could manage to say out loud.

It had all started, as always, because Sirius was bored. James was at Quidditch practice, Peter had disappeared somewhere with Madeline from Ravenclaw and Remus knew he should have gone to the library to do his homework, but he had instead decided to work on it in the dorm, thinking that maybe his presence would convince Sirius he had to revise Charms as well. At first it had seemed to work, Sirius had joined Remus on his bed, asking to see his notes on some spells and practicing them in silence. And then, Remus had been too concentrated on re-reading a particularly complicated charm to notice Sirius had put down his book and was pointing his wand at the parchments neatly piled between the two of them. The spell had only been murmured but the papers had immediately raised in an elegant spiral before scattering all around the dorm.

“Sirius!”

“What?” Sirius had grinned. “I’m practicing!”

“My notes!”

“You know them all by heart Moony, you don’t need them.”

Remus had taken a deep breath before diving for his own wand.

“You’re right, I think I do,” he had said before muttering something that had immediately turned Sirius’s long dark hair blonde.

“Take it back!” Sirius had shrieked.

“What, you don’t like your new look?” Remus had laughed before a magically conjured pillow had hit him in the face.

“I won’t be caught dead looking like Narcissa’s fiancé!”

Sirius had managed to turn his hair back to its original colour, but then there had been a mini tornado which had made the dorm even messier than before, a strangling quilt, the Snitch James preciously kept on his bedside table had hit Sirius in the back of the head, Remus’s legs had decided they wanted to dance a frantic can-can, Sirius had been ambushed by five chocolate frogs, a book had kept nudging Remus off the bed and Sirius’s broom had kept slapping him across the face every time he had tried another spell. And then, disaster. Panting and disheveled, they had pointed their wands at each other in the same instant, shouting:

“Rictusempra!”

That had been it. They had been laughing uncontrollably for at least ten minutes now, none of them able to string enough letters together to say the counterspell. As he rolled on the quilt, hands pressed on his stomach, Remus hoped one of the others would come back soon and help them. By his side, Sirius was almost folded in half, tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Help,” he laughed as he finally fell on his face on Remus’s shoulder.

Somewhere under all the laughter and his sides starting to hurt, Remus still felt his heart give that familiar jolt of panic combined with happiness he had every time Sirius was too close to him.

“Gonna… die,” he managed to mutter, not sure if he meant of laughter or just of Sirius Black being pressed against him on a bed of all places.

“Need… get… up,” Sirius wheezed, trying to push himself up but falling again against Remus, his face now in the crook of his neck.

Remus groaned and did his best to push Sirius off him, only resulting in them laughing in each other’s faces, the tiniest space ever separating them.

“Idi… ot,” Remus sobbed with laughter again.

Sirius had both arms around Remus’s neck now and still wasn’t managing to push himself up. Remus was starting to think that if James or Peter didn’t walk in soon he would really die this time, when Sirius fell back once again. Remus closed his eyes, bracing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt Sirius’s mouth, trembling with laughter, against his. The spell made him laugh again while he caught Sirius’s lips in his. He felt as if his brain had stopped working as their mouths clashed together while his arms shot up around Sirius’s back because everything was so ridiculous, and they should have focused on trying to utter the counter-spell and he would be damned if he didn’t cling to Sirius Black’s lips with all he had in him. He was almost gasping for air when Sirius cupped his cheek and pulled himself up just enough Remus could look at him without squinting.

“We… stopped laughing,” Remus said before groaning at the fact that of all things he could have said, that was what his brain had come up with.

“Emergency countermeasure,” Sirius smiled. “I figured if we didn’t have enough air to breathe the spell would annul itself.”

Remus’s heart dropped.

“You… Knew it would work by kissing?” he forced himself to say.

“I hoped it would.”

Remus let go of Sirius’s back and nodded. Sirius fucking Black. Didn’t make the effort to study, still bloody brilliant at magic. If just he could have been that brilliant somewhere far away so that Remus could have a breakdown in peace now. But Sirius didn’t move.

“Are you waiting for me to tell you you don’t have to revise Charms anymore?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me if this is okay,” Sirius said softly.

“You being a smartass? If it wasn’t we wouldn’t have been friends for so long.”

“No. This.”

Sirius got closer again, the hand not cupping Remus’s cheek now trailing his lips.

“There’s no need for a counter-spell now, Moony,” Sirius said softly. “Is this okay?”

Remus’s brain stopped working again as he wrapped his arms back around Sirius’s waist and moved him even closer.

“Yes,” he breathed, half a second before there was no space between their mouths again.

[delta-pavonis]

🥁 + 9

Because it's brilliant and I need more of these two. (And to give me more picture ideas to spam you with 😁)

Aw, "shoulder kisses."

Read it below the cut or on AO3. You will probably need to brush your teeth after this it is so fluffy.

"Come. " Kiss. "To." Kiss. "Bed." Kiss.

The last one lingers on Hob's bare shoulder, lips parting to allow teeth to nip at the taut curve of skin. Hob turns his head and catches Dream's lips with his own for a moment. "No." He cannot help but smile at his lover's pout. "I am determined to get through this song first."

Hob had picked up a recorder in the city’s market just before they left so that he has something new to work on to distract himself from his swirling thoughts. He has spent the vast majority of his time since they left the capital of Helespis with said instrument.

"What is with this sudden single-minded need to broaden your musical horizons? And why the rush?" Dream kneels next to him since there is no room on the stool set outside their vardo. One pale hand squeezes Hob's knee. "This seems so sudden and I... is something wrong?"

"I..." He sighs, looking down at Dream. "It has just been hard for me. Since Calliope joined the caravan."

Upon exiting the Southern Wastes Dream's clan headed for the capital of the small marshland nation of Helespis. It was in said capital that they met up with Calliope: she needed transport into Temenos. And wouldn't you know, that is exactly where they are headed. Of course Dream let her travel with them. Of course Dream did not refuse to provide safe passage to his ex-wife.

Saying Calliope is beautiful is such an understatement as to be embarrassing to they who utter it. Of course Dream would have been with someone like that, someone who is the elegance of a poem given human form. Someone who can dance and sing and play the mandolin. Of course Dream is pulled into her orbit, smiling at her with that sweet little curl of lips Hob had been sure was only for him.

Dream’s expression darkens as he considers Hob’s words. “Did she say something to you? Do something? I would not have her treating my lover poorly.”

Hob deflates a little, his smile fond as warmth blooms in his chest and he lays his hand over Dream’s on his knee. “No. Nothing like that. It is just…”

That first night Hob had watched them from the farthest edge of their camp, in the shadow of the kitchen wagon, and sighed. Like a lovelorn fool. He felt such a fool.

"My brother is with you for a reason," Epithumia emerged from the kitchen with a glass of wine and nudged Hob with their elbow. "He is divorced from her for a reason. Do not sit and stew in your jealousy – it is going to leave unsightly lines on your face."

Hob chuckled softly. For all their apparent grievances with Hob and with their brother, 'Mia still wants said sibling to be happy and is thrilled that Hob makes him happy. "So are you saying that you won't help me put frogs in her bunk?"

'Mia smirked, all red-waxed lips and kohl-lined eyes that shone golden when they caught the distant firelight. "Oh, now, I wouldn't go that far."

"See? I knew you'd have my back when push came to shove."

They have become closer over their weeks in the same clan, so it was not a surprise when 'Mia wound their arms around Hob's waist and rested their chin on his shoulder, body draped across his back. "I could help you make Morpheus jealous?" They splayed a hand across Hob's belly.

Hob rolled his eyes. "That might be the stupidest idea I have ever heard." He would never do that to Dream. Ever. Even if their relationship did come to an end. "Besides, I know that I am not your type. I won't kneel for you."

"Pity." They purred into his ear. "You would be very pretty with my cock in your mouth."

"I always look pretty with a cock in my mouth. That has little to do with yours in particular." Hob shrugged off 'Mia's embrace. "Now scram so I can mope here in peace."

'Mia just sipped at their wine. Hob swore he could hear the gears turning in that pretty head of theirs. “What is your problem here? Specifically.”

Hob sighed again, then motioned to the pair talking by the fire. “Look at him with her. Look at him smiling at her. Like that. Laughing with her like that.” ‘Mia did as he bid, looked out to their sibling and former sister-in-law. As if on command Calliope laughed heartily at something Dream had said, throwing her head back, while Dream smiled that exact soft little smile at her and Hob felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. “Like. That.”

“Mmm,” ‘Mia hummed, took another sip of wine, and then finally turned to leave. “You should ask my brother what they are talking about.” They nudged Hob one more time before disappearing into the darkness.

“It is just what?” Dream brings Hob’s hand to his lips. “Please tell me why you are spending so much time alone working on this when you have never done such before. I…” He presses another kiss to Hob’s knuckles. “I miss you.”

Ah, fuck. Hob is such a sucker for this man. But instead of answering directly he tilts sideways. “The night after Calliope joined us, after dinner, around the fire… you were sitting alone with her and talking. What were you talking about?”

Hob’s eyes widen as Dream flushes a deep red that runs rapidly from cheeks to collarbones. “Oh. We…” He actually swallows audibly, which Hob arches an eyebrow at, and when he speaks it is a whisper. “Why do you ask?”

Now something really is amiss. Hob has never seen Dream blush like this. “Because you looked… so happy with her. And the way you smiled at her, laughed with her, I thought… it felt…”

Hob is interrupted when Dream breaks into giggles, his blue eyes blazing to life like hot flames. “Oh Hob. My Hob.” He puts his other hand on Hob’s neck, pulling their faces closer. “She asked me why I seemed so happy, noted that she hadn’t seen such happiness on me since the day we married.” Dream leans closer still, face still flushed but grin wide and open. “So I told her about the man that I have fallen in love with.”

Every last wisp of air leaves Hob’s lungs all at once. “That you have…”

Dream’s smile is blindingly bright when their noses brush, but his voice is breathless, “I love you, Hob.”

Hob pretty much falls off the stool and onto the ground in front of Dream, grasping at his shoulders as he succumbs to his own fit of giggles. Love. His Dream just told him that he loves him.

They don’t even make it into the vardo, Dream trying to use one of the large spoked wheels as leverage as he climbs onto Hob’s lap.

Epithumia’s voice rings out over the chirping of night-crickets, “In the name of Jabin’s blessed fucking bollocks… Find four walls. Now.”

[sirserpentine]

Thread Tracker:

Drafts:4 Queue:0 Inbox:0

Mainverse:

Before the Hotel:

@circus-frog

Ow. Between them, they have two arms, one voice and zero legs.

During the Hotel

@hazbinned:

We're trapped due to Madam Trainor! Angel's night-time prank ends up with him and Pentious getting locked up in Pentious' room. Time for a sleepover!

The Stage is Set. Alastor and Sir Pentious have decided to put on a play in the hotel and the rehearsals have started. Shenanigans ensue. (Part 2 of The Partner Directors.)

At the Blood Ball. Sir Pentious accompanies Alastor and Angel Dust to Rosie's ( @cannibalxroses ) Ball. Waltzing, food and drinks. And a lot of complicated emotions.

Distraction. Pentious wants to offer his friend ( @angie-long-legs ) a chance to have some fun. It requires him to avert Valentino's attention.

You're gonna need a bigger boat. Husk and Sir Pentious try to make the best of a forced fun day on the beach, but some disturbing freaks of nature do everything in their power to ruin it for them. /MY TURN

The Road Trip of Hell. The Hotel Gang decides to go on a week-long road trip to the edges of Pentagram City and beyond. What could go wrong?

@radioiaci:

Human Holiday. Two demons go on a very unusual vacation to the living world.

The Dawn. Pentious recovers from his injuries and gets used to a new reality with Alastor's help.

@dark-ambition @rradiio

The Hellanovela. Pentious meets Arackniss in a dark alleyway after some long decades.

Afternoon stroll. Sir Pentious makes acquaintance with Rosie, the charming Overlord of Cannibal Town.

Doubled! Sir Pentious welcomes an alternate version of himself into his realm.

The Naughty Stool. Kuwako doesn't take kindly to Pentious' disrespect.

@poisonedspider Pole Dance. Angel gives a very hot performance at the club. Is it true that snakes have two...? Angel Dust is curious about some rumours he heard. Oh boy- Beautiful. Angel and Sir Pentious apologise for past grievances.

Father's Day. Angel has big news for Pentious./MY TURN

Gala. Pentious decides to surprise Angel with an elegant night out.

Sneak-in. NSFW

Ledge. Pentious tries to prevent something horrible from happening. (Trigger Warning.)

One, two, three. Pentious and Angel are in for a surprise.

@angie-long-legs

The flood. Pentious helps and cares for Angel when he is amid some traumatic memories.

Sobriety. The heartwarming story about how a spider and a snake learn that they have so much more in common than they thought. :) /MY TURN

@hellpride Canoodles. Lucifer's had enough of Pentious' accidental innuendos. NSFW

@top-shelf-tender

Sand. Pentious and Husk meet on the beach after their surprising encounter.

Surprises. Sir Pentious shows Husk new sides of himself. NSFW

@madsxientific

Disagreements. Baxter and Pentious have vastly different views on the creation of the egg boiz.

Custody Battle.

In Heaven:

@hazbinned Reunion. Emily and Sir Pentious infiltrate Hell to say hello to their friends. /MY TURN

Crepes. Alastor brings Pentious breakfast. Honeymoon phase times 1000. @poisonedspider

We meet again. Angel redeems and ascends to Heaven. He has an old friend waiting for him there!

AUs:

Verse: Probation @hazbinned An alternate reality where Sir Pentious and Alastor both perish in the battle against the exorcists. They end up in Heaven together, as Angels on probation, which wouldn't be too bad if Pentious could still remember something... Emily tries her best to guide their lost souls. Overture. The first redeemed Sinners arrive in Heaven.

Verse: Swapped @hazbinned Alastor makes a well-intentioned wish that has terrible consequences.

Swapped. Alastor descends into a new reality. Verse: Everlasting Sun @veneror in the 1970s, Cyrus Pendrous, a sheltered vampire born in the Victorian era follows the guidance of a self-help book and travels to New York in search of new experiences. He meets a dazzling and sweet drag performer named Angel Dust. They are whisked away on an adventure that takes them all the way to Europe.

Sunrise. A vampire and a drag queen walk into a bar... Verse: You Are the Light After Our Storm @radiiosugars Alternate reality. Rosie sees a potential match between two sewing widows and sets them up on a blind date. Maybe it isn't too late to dream of a family?

The blind date. The two Victorian single pringles are set up.

Verse: The Unholy Crusade

@hells-sirenqueen

Comfort. There cannot be enough in the Unholy Crusade.

Verse: The Flying Serpent Sir Pentious is an elusive Overlord, who oversees a community that resides high in the air.

@top-shelf-tender

Up and away. Pentious finds an injured Sinner out on a patrol after an Extermination.

Archived:

@nebula-gaster

Buzz the Coach. Pentious and Buzz meet on the street, and the former's incompetence inspires Buzz to.... help him?

@hazbinned

The Partner Directors. Alastor and Sir Pentious can't bear the sight of cheap television programs any longer. Out of mutual agreement, they decide to burn it to crisp and make more civilised entertainment themselves. Angel joins their pitch party.

@radioiaci

Dadalastor. Alastor is tasked with looking after the Egg Boiz for a night. Are there some things that are too much even for The Radio Demon?

Bite. Some simple wound mending takes an interesting turn. Fangs are involved.

Blood Pancakes. Pentious surprises Alastor with a peculiar dinner. Things are rather GAY. NSFW

Beach. Pentious invites Alastor to join him for a little break while on the beach

@aracniss

Careful. Arackniss has returned, worse for the wear. Pentious wants to help him. NSFW

Can't wash you away. Pentious and Arackniss meet again by chance. There's lots of boxes to pack.

Hurt. Arackniss shows up at the hotel looking for someone specific.

@angie-long-legs

The princess was sitting there, barbeque sauce on his titties... Pentious notices Angel alone at the Blood Ball. This won't do!

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Round One: Take a Bow

Great White Shark vs Elegant Dancing Frog

Arena: Open ocean

Remember, it's not a popularity contest- it's a fight to the death!

[candied-boys]

🍯 Honey Cakes 🍯

Luke Randolph x fem! Reader

Tags: merpeople au, lazy!Luke, happy!Luke, possessive!Luke, romance, picnics, cottagecore, eventual smut, happy ending

Part three

2,400 words

The muggy heat of July isn't as bad now that you've learned how to not drown. It wasn't easy being taught by someone born in the water though. Luke couldn't understand why you kept kicking your feet to stay afloat, but after you swallowed too much water down the wrong pipe he finally stopped trying to get you to swim with your legs locked together and taught you how to swim like a frog.

You may not be elegant, and you never had a hope of keeping up with him anyway, but when you tire he supports you — letting you rest your head in his shoulder like the first day or lie atop his chest while he floats on the surface like your own personal raft.

Some days you spend the whole afternoon in the cool depths of the lake; dancing where he twirls you around in the water, having splash fights that he invariably wins, playing hide and seek in which you're always it and wind up scared half to death every time Luke sneaks up behind you to pull you under when you take too long to find him.

Other days you lie on the picnic blanket, sunbathing by the shoreline together or drying out after a swim like today. No matter what you're doing the space between you is always filled with sweet nothings and curious banter.

“How long can you stay out of the water?”

“I’m not a fish. I wunna ever die.”

“Really? But your tail…”

“It’s just more comfortable to keep it in the water, but birds and turtles dunna die ‘cause they spend time on land. We’re the same. It’s just dangerous cause y’ silly humans’re so greedy,” he scolds playfully and pokes your nose.

“Very greedy. I want to keep you all to myself,” you smile and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down over you.

“Good — ‘cause that's what I want too. I wanna be the only one who knows what y’ feel like to hold close… the only one who gets to see how hazy y’r eyes get when y're kissed… the only one who knows where y're sensitive…”

Like a twilight sky his eyes darken with each honey coated word. Slipping a hand beneath your knee he continues, “And I wanna know more… I wanna know whether y'll whimper or whine, whether y'll shake or arch with tension, and whether y'll dig y’r nails into my skin or melt under my touch.”

Nose to nose, his breath is shallow as it caresses your cheeks.

“I wanna know what y’r bare skin feels like pressed against mine. I wanna memorize every inch o’ y’r body with my hands… inside ‘n out…”

As your lips slot together, his hand wanders higher beneath the hem of your chemise. Calloused and rough, the pads of his fingers scrawl his affection into your skin as they trail along your inner thigh.

Relaxing under his weight where he pins you to the ground, you let your hands explore his body. There is much you too long discover — whether his soft, slow drawl will deepen with desire, whether his eyes will close with pleasure or hold fast to yours, whether his skin tastes sweet with lake water or salty from the sun. A thousand temptations swirl in your mind when his tongue entwines with yours.

But suddenly he breaks away, his mild gaze hardening as it slides from you to glare at the side.

An annoyed growl tainting his usually gentle tone, he snaps, “Jin, whady’ want? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, you look real busy, Luke,” a deep voice replies from afar.

“F’ck off,” he quips lazily and looks back over his shoulder while still keeping you hidden beneath his torso.

“Oi, be nice to your big brother!”

“I am bein’ nice. Now, get lost,” Luke replies, turning his gaze back to you in hopes of more kisses.

“C’mon. Not gonna introduce me to your girlfriend? It’s not like she’s a secret when you come home covered in her scent every day.”

“Nope. Not sharin’. She’s mine,” he returns with acid on his tongue and a sugary gaze only for you.

“Hey, I’d never steal a girl from the baby prince. I just want to see how pretty she is.”

“Prince?” you repeat baffled.

“Yeah, it's no big deal,” he says petting your cheek before growling back at Jin. “You wouldna, but y’ wouldna keep y’r mouth shut about her neither. Then, I’d have to fend off the other family slut.”

“Oh, you could take him with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back. What are you worried about? None of the others are going to go after her.”

“The girls like him for a reason,” he mumbles to no one in particular.

“How many brothers do you have?” you query after processing 'others’.

“Eight, but the only decent one is the oldest one over here buttin’ in. Seriously, Jin. Beat it!” he drawls in exasperation and splashes the water with his tail.

You hear a faint hum of a amusement before the silky voice counters, “You know you're not supposed to be up here. I won't tattle to the king if you introduce me.”

Rolling his eyes where he hovers above your form, Luke answers, “There's no way Chev doesna already know where I am 'n what I'm doin’. Y’ know that as well as anybody.”

“Sure, but if I mention it, he might not let you get away with this anymore.”

Bolting upright he demands, “Since when do y’ blackmail me?!”

“Since when are you so heartless to your dearest brother?”

You can hear the faux hurt in his voice and giggle, “Is it really that big of a deal, Luke?”

Whipping back to you, palm on your cheek and eyes full of emotion, he defends himself, “Yes! Y're adorable! If they get one look, they'll all be comin’ after y’!”

“Oh, you're right. She is adorable,” the older one purrs, suddenly right next to you, lying on his side with his chin propped up on his palm.

Startled, you find yourself already hidden beneath Luke.

“Y're scarin’ her,” he hisses low, a sound in the back of his throat you've never heard before.

Curious to see another real merman, you turn your head and peek through the gap in the crook of Luke's elbow.

“Hi beautiful,” he grins down at you and winks.

His unbelievably mesmerizing orbs of polished copper make you wonder if all merpeople have eyes like precious gemstones.

“Hi,” you answer shyly and wriggle out from beneath Luke's heavy form.

Your boyfriend groans in annoyance, letting you out of his makeshift cage, but still keeping you within his protection — arms and tail wrapped around you from behind and his chin resting in the crook of your neck.

“See? She's not scared - are you, gorgeous?” He smiles broader at you before flicking Luke in the forehead. “Quit your glaring. I'm not going to touch her.”

Luke only growls in response, no doubt his eyes burning all the more with displeasure from behind you.

Free to satisfy your curiosity you let your gaze wander from the man's copper eyes, across his luxuriously dark skin, down his sculpted torso, and along his golden tail.

“You two look nothing alike. Is that normal for mersiblings?” you query up at Luke who is now pouting upon catching you eye up his brother.

With a huff he explains, “We're half siblings. Same father, different mothers. All my siblings have different mothers except my sister. She's got a different father.”

“When are you going to introduce me to her? You promised, Luke…” you pout back as you recall the day he told you all about how much he adores Leyla.

Luke probably wouldn't have ever come up to the surface to cure his boredom if she wasn't at that age where other boys are more fun to spend time with than her doting — read overprotective — older brother.

“Yeah, when're y’ gonna introduce me, Luke?” a sweet voice sings from the water.

“Oi!! Y’ know y're not allowed up here!” Luke snaps as he sits upright once more, this time yanking you along with him.

You've waited months to meet her and can't resist waving excitedly at the enchanting mermaid bobbing in the water not far away. She smiles brightly and returns the gesture before swimming over.

“You must be Leyla! I've heard so much about you,” you babble enthusiastically and introduce yourself.

Over your shoulder you hear Luke growl again at his brother, “If y’ put her up to this, Jin, I swear—”

“He didna do nothin’, Luke. Calm down.”

“See,” the golden tailed brother affirms with a sly grin to match the cheeky look in her pair of golden eyes identical to his. It makes you suspect the whole thing was her idea to begin with.

Clicking his tongue Luke gives in, “Alright. Alright. Now, y’ got y’r introduction. What more d’y want?”

“I wanna go for a swim together!!” Leyla chirps and looks right at you.

Luke's gaze turns to you too, silently asking if you feel comfortable swimming on your own. You nod confidently, and with a reluctant sigh he frees you from his strong embrace and watches you slip into the water.

As you swim away leisurely Leyla keeps pace with you, asking you all kinds of things about life on land. Her honest smile is exactly like her brother's and so is her straightforward curiosity. Her laugh is as bright as a wind chime when you tell her about your first encounter with Luke.

“Y’ know, he's so much happier these days — since he met y’, I mean. He's always only had me. I've been surrounded by affection from my parents, him, and my friends… but he's never cared for no one else, and nobody’s ever cared about him neither. I'm really relieved he found someone he can open his heart to.”

“Mmm…” you hum neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“Y’ dunna sound like y’ believe me…”

Staring down into the black depths of the lake beneath your feet you decide to confide in her.

“I know the lake will freeze over and the days will be too short to come visit soon…”

“And?” she coaxes gently.

“And I'm worried I'll miss him so much I'll cry all day and Mrs. Baker will get mad at me for making the bread soggy,” you try to laugh but choke on your emotions instead.

“He's gonna miss y’ just as much. I'm sure o’ that,” Leyla coos, tilting her head to look up into your eyes with the same long lashes and warmth to her gaze as Luke's.

“But he hasn't said anything about winter yet… and I'm starting to think that it's selfish of me to want him to wait… to keep him to myself… I think he'd be happier with someone he can spend the whole year with…”

“Well, all us merfolk sleep through the winter, so he wouldna be awake to be with no one else anyways. But more importantly, I think he doesna want no one else…”

“You really think so? I'm not just the new pastry in the shop window?”

“I don't really know what that's suppos’a mean, but if y're worried he's with y’ ‘cause y're different, y're not wrong. He is with y’ ‘cause y're different, but not ‘cause o’ the novelty. 'Cause y’re what let's him be himself,” she smiles.

All the while a different conversation ebbs and flows out of earshot between the two brothers.

“I'm worried about you, Luke.”

Flopping back down on your sheet and plucking a stem of sweetgrass Luke doesn't answer.

“It's the first time since you came to the palace two years ago that I've seen you open up to anyone…”

“And?”

“And it's obvious you really like her.”

The only response the older brother gets is an unintelligible grumble as Luke chews the rapier between his teeth.

“Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?”

“That she'll be alone all winter while we hibernate?”

A sigh punctuates the silence before he answers, “Nah. She'll forget me soon enough. There’re plenty o’ better men out there.”

“So you're just going to let her walk away? Is that what you really want?”

“What I want dunna matter. She deserves someone who can be by her side all the time, not someone stuck in a lake who canna even look after her.”

“Well, what if that's not what she wants?”

“Whad’y mean not what she wants? It's what's best for her,” Luke snaps back, jade finally meeting amber.

“I think what's best for her is up to her to decide, Luke, not you. The only part you get a say in is whether or not you're going to be honest with yourself and her about how you feel.”

“The hell am I suppos’a tell her? Dunna worry about the royal guards arrestin’ y’; just chop down a few trees and build a hut by y’rself on the edge of the lake so y’ can stay with me forever — except y'll be alone every damn winter because I'll be sleepin’, so sorry I canna even bring y’ fish to eat. See y’ see next spring! That's just the stupidest thin’ I ever heard, Jin!”

“Leyla said you've been spending your nights in the caverns reading through the ancient texts carved into the walls. I know what you're looking for. If you like her that much she deserves to know, Luke.”

“I'm not tellin’ her nothin’, so just drop it.”

Part five

[calliope-lives]

Sa Belle Evangeline

She sits against the midnight blue backdrop, her skin lit gently by the artificial moonlight. It’s as if she lights up the sky. She’s elegant, not that she could ever be anything else. Evangeline, what a beauty.

Ray saw her for the first time in a play. Up on stage, she was a star. The prettiest one. The way she danced and sang captivated the audience. Ray knew he was in love the moment she opened her mouth and sang the first note. He saw her career begin.

Now, decades later, he’s watching it end.

He’s been in love with her as much as light loves a firefly. Sa belle Evangeline.

Up on stage, she sings with her heart. The same heart that Ray had grown to know over the years.

He sits in the crowd, out of place in his decade-old clothes in a sea of dresses and tuxedos. He doesn’t care. Not with his Evangeline so far above on stage.

Oh, how he loves Evangeline. He knows her heart belongs to him just the same.

“Je t'adore,” she tells him every morning.

“Je t'aime Evangeline,” he whispers at night.

A queen of the night, she plays in this performance. She stays in place, so still, yet so bright. Ray finds his gaze always drifting back.

She gives him a smile.

His heart flutters. He could never have imagined that someone as beautiful as she could love someone like him. She’s an actress, he’s a hunter, and yet they could not love each other more.

Ray had grown up hearing “love always finds a way”, but he didn’t believe that it was true until he met sa belle Evangeline.

It was a dark evening after one of her shows. A frog hopping by had scared her and she stumbled into a wall, where another frog jumped onto her. She screamed and screamed and Ray came running to help. He took the frogs across the street and they ended up talking on a bench until her ride came.

They ran into one another in the same place months later after another show. Ray asked her to dinner. She asked him to be her boyfriend.

A decade later, in the same place again, Ray said “I love you, Evangeline” and proposed.

“Love is beautiful,” someone shouted at their wedding.

“Love is wonderful,” Ray told Evangeline.

The ceremony wasn’t big. Evangeline’s family and close friends came and Ray’s parents and cousins showed up. They couldn’t afford much at the time but they didn’t need to. Their love was everything.

Their families clapped as loud as the audience at one of Evangeline’s plays.

A standing ovation his queen of the night earned.

“Evangeline was great, don’t you agree?” One of the spectators asks Ray.

“Mais oui.”

Sa belle Evangeline lights up the sky one last time as she gives a wave to the crowd of fans. Roses are thrown, cheers and whoops and hollers echo through the building.

After the doors open, Ray awaits Evangeline. His mind has drifted off as she sneaks up.

She throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly.

“You did amazing,” he tells her.

“Je t’adore,” she confesses.

“I love you, Evangeline.”

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Nine)

Summary: After Bo-Katan and Din uncover the culprit behind Plazir-15′s droid malfunctions, they are granted permission to access the Mandalorian mercenaries and (Y/N) does her best to encourage the Nite Owl.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This one’s a little shorter than I originally anticipated, but I still had a lot of fun with it! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Nine The Mercenaries (Previous Chapter)

When (Y/N) was a little girl, her mother would often regale her with bedtime stories about the elegant balls once held at Naboo’s royal palace in Theed, where beings of all shapes and sizes dressed in the finest clothing the planet’s seamsters and seamstresses could offer and danced all through the evening. She always dreamed of attending such a soiree but she never truly believed that she ever would, so it came as quite a pleasant surprise when she and Grogu were invited by the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to a ball celebrating the happy couple’s wedding anniversary. (Y/N), dressed in a beautiful sea-blue gown embellished with sparkling jewels and with her hair carefully styled into an elaborate updo, and Grogu mingled with Plazir-15’s citizens, the former learning all that she could about the planet’s unique culture and the latter practically preening under all the attention he was receiving from their gracious hosts and the other attendees.

As the evening went on and both Din and Bo-Katan were nowhere to be found, a worried (Y/N) decided to try contacting her husband through his comm and learned that the Mandalorians’ investigation into the planet’s malfunctioning droids had become more complicated than either of them originally anticipated; they’d visited the Ugnaughts that worked far below the city, chased down a rogue battle droid and gained some insight on the problem after a visit to a droid bar named ‘The Resistor.’ They were heading to the city’s morgue to examine the battle droid’s remains for more evidence when (Y/N) called, and Din confirmed that they were still far from solving the planet’s ongoing droid problem.

“I’m sorry that this has taken so long, alor’ad. I know I said we’d be back soon-”

“It’s all right, sweetheart, I understand,” (Y/N) soothed, glancing over her shoulder at the glittering assemblage inside the palace before leaning against the railing and watching Grogu play with a frog that hopped onto the balcony. “How’re you holding up, Din?”

She could hear Din quietly sigh on the other end. “It’s hard to not think about what happened to my parents, of course, but knowing that you and the kid are safe gives me piece of mind, helps me focus on the task at hand. We’ll get to the bottom of Plazir’s droid problem, and then we’ll finally have access to the Mandalorian mercenaries outside the dome.” The sound of a door sliding open echoed through the comm and Din muttered a quiet curse. “I have to go now, alor’ad, we’ve arrived at the morgue.”

(Y/N) fiddled with the sleeve of her gown and forced an upbeat tone as she replied, “All right, well…be careful, Din, and we’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.”

The next morning, Din and Bo-Katan were still busy investigating the droid malfunctions, so (Y/N) took advantage of her circumstances and asked the Duchess for permission to access the planet’s vast records in the hopes of finding any information on Jedi Master Kelleran Beq; while there was nothing in their records about the Jedi who’d saved Grogu’s life, there was still plenty of information on the history of the Jedi Order and their exploits throughout the Clone Wars, so (Y/N) spent her morning reading in the palace’s great hall while the royals and their guests played garden games.

“Okay, let me get that for you, m’lady. Your toss, lovely.”

Looking up from her holopad, (Y/N) watched as Captain Bombardier handed a furled pill-bug to the Duchess and when her gaze lowered to see Grogu sneakily peeking out from behind the folds of her elaborate gown, she giggled and hid her amused smile behind her hand. The Duchess sized up the glowing rings positioned around the artificial turf before tossing the furled pill-bug into the air; just as (Y/N) suspected, Grogu raised his clawed hand and used the Force to send the pill-bug flying, where it bounced off two crawling pill-bugs and through four rings. The crowd cheered and Grogu cooed in delight as the Duchess and Captain Bombardier clapped in happiness. “A Quadro-blast! I’ve never seen such a streak! Wasn’t that splendid, Captain (Y/L/N)?”

“It was a wonderful toss, Your Majesty,” (Y/N) complimented from her seat near the artificial lawn and gave Grogu a subtle wink when he looked her way.

The sound of the doors opening drew their attention away from the game, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion when she saw Din and Bo-Katan escorting a handcuffed old man into the great hall. While (Y/N) slowly got to her feet, the royal couple cautiously approached the Mandalorians and Captain Bombardier tilted his head to the side in perplexity. “What are you doing with Commissioner Helgait?”

“We found the cause of your ‘malfunctions.’”

The guests gasped in shock and the Duchess held a hand to her chest. “Is this true?”

“I’m afraid it is, M’Lady.” Commissioner Helgait ducked his head in visible regret at the stunned tone in her voice.

Captain Bombardier shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “Despicable.”

The old man let out a humorless chuckle. “If that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This planet is unrecognizable since he arrived!”

“…I had a feeling you hated me.”

Ignoring the exchange between her husband and her head of security, the Duchess pursed her lips and fixed the old man with a saddened look. “I’m disappointed in you, Commissioner. You served my family well, but Captain Bombardier is the love of my life and I know his heart is true.” She rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder and flashed him a tender smile that he was quick to return; (Y/N)’s own eyes flicked over to Din, and she felt herself flush when she saw that the visor of his helmet was already angled towards her instead of the drama unfolding in the great hall. “Sure, he’s made some mistakes in the past, but who here among us has not? Is there no room for a little bit of forgiveness in a galaxy so vast?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded once and cast his gaze downwards. “I am sorry to have disappointed you, My Lady. Perhaps someday, I can earn such forgiveness from Your Grace.”

“Perhaps. As for now, you must live in exile on the moon of Paraqaat.” With a wave of the Duchess’ hand, four constable droids escorted the disgraced head of security from the great hall and after heaving a weary sigh, she turned to face (Y/N) and the two Mandalorians. “And as for you, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, Din Djarin of Concordia and Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Naboo,” (Y/N) released the breath she’d inadvertently been holding when the Duchess used her preferred name instead of her legal one. “I grant you audience with our deployment of Mandalorian privateers. I also give to you three our highest honor, the key to Plazir.” She reached for an oversized key resting on a silver platter held by a servant droid and offered it out towards them. “You will always be welcome in our domed paradise.”

As (Y/N) moved to stand beside Din, Bo-Katan smiled and stepped forward to receive their honor. “M’Lady. M’Lord.”

“Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I bequeath to you Plazir’s humble collection of Lomiya Corrik’s design sketches, personally commissioned by my family many cycles ago.” The Duchess smiled at (Y/N)’s stunned expression and handed her a leather-bound portfolio. “Although they held an honored place in my family’s collection, I hereby declare that they rightfully belong to the House of Corrik and its descendants.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) clutched the portfolio to her chest and bowed her head in a sign of respect. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Duchess looked down at Grogu, who was still standing at her side, and accepted the sword that one of her guards offered her. “And to this little one, I grant knighthood.” As she gently tapped the tip of the sword against his tiny shoulders, Bo-Katan fought back a smile and (Y/N) beamed with pride. “You are now a knight of the Ancient Order of Independent Regencies.” Both royals looked up at the trio and the Duchess’ eyes gleamed with thankfulness. “Go in peace, brave travelers. Until our paths meet again.”

“M’Lord. M’Lady.” Din stepped forward to scoop Grogu up into his arms and after resting a gloved hand on the small of (Y/N)’s back, they turned and walked out of the great hall. “A Jedi padawan, a Mandalorian foundling and now a knight; the kid’s collecting titles quicker than the galaxy can come up with ‘em.”

(Y/N) chuckled and while they stepped into their hyperloop pod, she reached over to caress one of the cooing child’s large ears and gave him an affectionate smile as Din placed him in his floating pram. “Of course he is, who can resist this cute little face?” He giggled when her fingers tickled the patch of skin just beneath his chin, and she looked over at her husband as the pod started moving. “So, did that head of security say why he was making the droids malfunction like that?”

“He was a Separatist.” (Y/N)’s smile fell as she watched Din shift in his seat and stare down at his boots. “He wanted to use the droids to disrupt the planet and collapse their society in the name of democracy.”

Exchanging a knowing look with Bo-Katan, (Y/N) rested a hand on the side on her husband’s beskar helmet and gently coaxed him to look over at her before placing her hand flat on the center of his chestplate, directly over his heart. “But you and Bo-Katan stopped his plan before anyone was hurt; you saved the citizens of Plazir, and you saved the innocent droids that Commissioner Helgait hijacked to carry out his bidding. I know that that wasn’t easy for you, sweetheart, and I’m proud of you.”

Din’s gloved hand moved to cradle her cheek and guided her closer to rest his forehead against hers in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss. “Thank you, alor’ad.” After a long moment, he pulled away and looked down at the leather-bound portfolio resting on her lap. “I’m glad that you were able to reclaim a piece of your mother and had the opportunity to see first-hand the lasting impact of her artistry. Can I take a look at her design sketches?”

“Now approaching landing field three.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to grant him permission but when she caught sight of Bo-Katan staring pensively out at the vibrant green fields surrounding the domed city, she carefully tucked the portfolio into her satchel and nudged her husband’s boot with her own as she replied, “Maybe later, after we…um, talk to the Mandalorian mercenaries.”

Din nodded and when (Y/N) patted his knee, he cleared his throat and addressed the troubled Nite Owl seated across from them. “They’re Mandalorians. You’re their leader. They’re going to follow you.”

The anxious look remained on Bo-Katan’s face as her eyes flicked down to stare at her gloved hands. “I’m not their leader anymore. Axe Woves is.”

“Then what’s your play?”

She sighed and glanced back up to meet their gazes. “I’ll know when I get there.”

“Well, no matter what you decide to do out there, Din and I believe in you; there’s no one who’s better equipped to unite both factions of Mandalorians, Bo.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging smile, and her heart warmed in her chest when the Nite Owl slowly returned it with one of her own. The hyperloop pod came to a stop and after stepping out onto the platform, they descended the many steps and walked across the vast field to where the Mandalorians established their base camp at its center; dozens of helmetless warriors stared them down as they slowly approached, and (Y/N) mumbled under her breath to Din, “At least when your covert stares, you can’t see all the judgmental looks they’re giving under their helmets.”

The Mandalorian huffed out a quiet chuckle and when the three of them stopped a handful of yards away from the base camp, Axe Woves straightened his back but remained seated on his cargo box and took a sip from his cup as he exchanged a glance with Koska Reeves, the Mandalorian warrior who’d helped them rescue Grogu from Moff Gideon. “Have you come back to join the mercenaries?”

Bo-Katan shook her head. “I’ve come to reclaim my fleet.”

“It’s no longer your fleet, is it?” Axe chuckled, gesturing around at the many ships and warriors that surrounded them. “I’m now in command, and grown quite fond of it.”

“Then I challenge you, one warrior to another.” (Y/N) and Din exchanged a look and Grogu anxiously cooed as the grin slipped off of Axe’s face and the Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves; the Nite Owl’s stony expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward and harshly continued. “Do you accept my challenge?”

Setting his cup down, Axe slowly got to his feet and clenched his gloved hands at his side. “I do.”

There was tension in the air as the two Mandalorians stared each other down and the helmetless warriors seemingly held their breaths as they stood completely still and waited in anticipation for the challenge to begin. In the blink of an eye, Axe fired a missile from his vambrace and while Bo-Katan used her jetpack to avoid the weapon, Din whisked (Y/N) out of the way and used his beskar-clad body to shield her from the small-scale explosion; (Y/N)’s eyes widened in awe as she watched the Nite Owl slam her Mandalorian opponent onto the ground with a powerful kick to his chest, and she could feel her husband’s arms tighten around her waist when Axe drew his vibro-blade and engaged Bo-Katan in hand-to-hand combat. Both Mandalorians were perfectly matched, slashing and twirling around one another with deadly precision, which made (Y/N) nervously bite her lip even when Bo-Katan managed to knock Axe down a second time.

“It’s okay, kid,” Din comforted Grogu after he hid his face away in his clawed hands to avoid watching Axe fly straight into Bo-Katan and slammed her into the hull of a Kom’rk-class fighter transport. “Bo’s got this.”

They slashed at one another with their blades and each managed to land several blows, the scuffle escalating when Axe fired another missile and Bo-Katan tackled him to the ground; she roughly dragged him to his feet and held her vambrace’s blade to his throat, spitting out, “Do you yield?” With a strangled yell, Axe ignited his jetpack and flew them both into the air, where they landed harshly on the top of another Kom’rk-class fighter transport. They exchanged more blows and Bo-Katan toppled over the edge, but she quickly ignited her jetpack and fired her whipcord to wrap around the Mandalorian mercenary’s ankles, pulling him over the edge and watching him land on the grass below. Axe rolled onto his knee and fired his vambrace’s flamethrower but again, Bo-Katan was quicker; she activated her shield gauntlet to block the flames and flew through the air, tackling Axe onto the ground and pressing the tip of her blade against the exposed skin of his neck. “Do you yield?!”

“You’ll never be the true leader of our people,” Axe spat out, his eyes flicking over to where (Y/N) and Din stood and his lips curled into a sneer. “You won’t even take the Darksaber from him. He’s the one you should be challenging.”

“Enough Mandalorian blood has been spilled by our own hands!” With one final shove, Bo-Katan stood and retracted her vambrace’s blade as she looked around at the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries. “Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Axe picked himself off the ground and let out a mirthless laugh. “But a misguided zealot possesses the blade. One, I might add, who has not one drop of Mandalorian blood in his veins.”

(Y/N)’s hands clenched into tight fists and she angrily started forward, but Din’s halting grip on her waist and Bo-Katan’s sudden words stopped her dead in her tracks. “Din Djarin took the Creed and chose to walk the way, just as our ancestors did. He is every bit the Mandalorian that they were!” Her husband shifted uncomfortably beside her and she placed a soothing hand on the unarmored part of his arm. “Certainly as much as any of us…”

Shaking his head in frustration, Axe held his hands out and scoffed at the Nite Owl’s argument. “But according to our ways, the ruler of Mandalore must possess the Darksaber.”

“Then she shall have it.” (Y/N), Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries all looked over at Din in surprise; the Mandalorian stood tall as he patted (Y/N)’s hand and crossed the field to where Bo-Katan and Axe were standing and without a single ounce of hesitation, he unclipped the Darksaber from his utility belt and held it out for the Nite Owl to take. “This belongs to you.”

Bo-Katan, although visibly touched by Din’s selfless gesture, shook her head and gently replied, “It’s not a gift to be given, no matter how well intended.”

“It’s not a gift,” He countered before turning to address the assembled Mandalorian mercenaries, all while a confused (Y/N) exchanged a look with an equally-baffled Bo-Katan. “While exploring Mandalore, my wife and I were captured and this blade was taken from me. Bo-Katan rescued us and slayed our captor. She defeated the enemy that defeated me; would this blade then not belong to her?” The Mandalorian mercenaries murmured amongst themselves, but none of them spoke up until Din repeated his question. “Would it not belong to her?”

After a long moment, Axe sighed and gave him a relenting nod. “It would.”

A smile tugged on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips as she watched her husband turn back to face Bo-Katan and once again held the Darksaber out for her to take. “I return this blade to its rightful owner.”

The Nite Owl slowly lifted her hand and wrapped her gloved fingers around the hilt, the look of uncertainty etched across her face slowly morphing into self-assurance when Din made his way back to where (Y/N) stood with Grogu’s pram and the other Mandalorians followed Koska’s lead in deferentially bowing their heads. With the barest hint of a smile, Bo-Katan took a deep breath and ignited the blade, staring down at its luminous glow and recognizing the culmination of nearly a thousand years of Mandalorian history in that moment.

“And you claim that you’re not one for politics,” (Y/N) teased when Din reached them and placed her hands on her hips as she arched an impressed brow. “I have to say, that was a political maneuver worthy of the New Republic Senate.”

“Coming from a former Rebel, I’ll take that as a compliment.” The Mandalorian patted a babbling Grogu on the head and handed over his silver sphere. “I never wanted the Darksaber, or the right to rule Mandalore. Bo-Katan is the leader that can reunite both factions Mandalorians, and I’ll be satisfied doing anything I can to ensure that her quest succeeds and our people can live a more peaceful life.”

With a tender smile, (Y/N) looped her arm around her husband’s elbow and stretched to press a kiss onto the beskar covering his cheek. “We both will.”

Din nodded and the two of them watched as the Mandalorian mercenaries offered their respects to Bo-Katan and acknowledged her claim to leadership of their faction. They were one crucial step forward on the road to reuniting the divided Mandalorians, but it was clear to each of them that they still had much more work ahead of them. Now we’ve gotta convince the mercenaries and the covert to get along and resist the urge to kill one another, (Y/N) thought to herself with an inward sigh, but if anyone can successfully squash generations of conflict and infighting, I suppose it’s us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain

A/N: Like I said last week, we’re having work done in the house and it’s been difficult finding time to write, but I’ll hopefully have the next chapter up on time! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Forty

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @elinedjarin @ccomandercody @crowleysqueenofhell​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovy-lady​ @impala1967666​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @icee228​ @siimiasoi​

[thesolemnhour]

🩰 👀

I decided to get a little historical for my beloved boy. I assign Salvadore Rudolf Nureyev's Act II Albrecht Variation!

How to describe Nureyev!!! One of the most iconic dancers in ballet history! There's something so magical about his port de bras; he carries himself with such incredible refinement, elegance, and pride. The jumps and turns he performs in this variation are wildly difficult, and there is just no dancer who makes them look easier or more beautiful. Watching him dance gives me the feeling of seeing a frog on a lilypad: Yes! That's exactly where you should be and exactly what you should be doing! It reminds me so much of how Sal carries himself throughout his life.

Not really to do with the dancing, but in the Nureyev biopic The White Crow, there a line where someone asks him, "I went to the ballet last night! Were you dancing?" and Nureyev says, "Dear, if I were dancing, you would remember," which delights me endlessly.

[courjetsetting]

Today's excursion began beautifully, with a visit to la Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève! Constructed in the 1840s to house the abundant texts in its collections (curated over centuries), this library's interior is incredibly striking. Swooping lines, painted motifs, and exposed ironwork are all employed harmoniously, creating an elegant and studious space!!

I could have spent my entire day perusing the library's shelves...! But adventure waits for no frog and I wanted to explore this city!

Adventure can, however, enjoy a break for hot chocolate!! This pause included camembert rôti with honey, and warm garlic potatoes, as well... absolument délicieux!!

(Attentive readers will note how this photo reveals minor artistic liberties I take, from time to time, regarding chronology...!)

I fell upon quite a few live performances while meandering the streets, the first of which was this brass quartet!! Having played the cello and piano myself, my allegiances-- er, preferences, typically lie with strings and percussion. However, this quartet played such joyful, jaunty tunes! I wish I had had someone to dance with (preceded, of course, by the wish to know how to waltz)!!

The next musicians in my path were these jazzy clarinettists! Their tune got stuck in my head over several blocks, but how could I complain with such enjoyable music?

Boisterous applause lead me to this duet; lingering through their next song, it became evident that such praise was well deserved!! I especially delighted in the guitarist's solo; vocalists shouldn't be the only ones to have fun, after all!

I caught the final snippet of this group's final song while walking home!! I enjoyed the variety of instruments playing together; though in particular the pan flute was my favorite sound! Today was filled with many a musical delight- quite revitalizing, after almost a week of city sounds!!

I might not particularly care for Hemingway as a person... nor as a writer... but at the very least I like books!! A tangential connection exists between my interests and this place! I can appreciate the history around me!

Although, I feel as if I have appreciated so much scenery today (auditory, visual, odorous, tactile, flavorful...); it's time to give my senses a rest and sleep! (June 21)