#here have an ice fairy

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

[rosecartridge]

Pausing from the current book she was rather enthralled in , a pressed flower keeping her place marked when she closes it.

Something just happened-.

[flamingredanon]

What type of trainer is Misha and what is her pokemon team?

Misha would be a fairy type trainer and her team would be Sylveon, Alolan Ninetales, Comfey, Togekiss, Azumarill and Grimmsnarl.

[gaydryad]

ok question if hypothetically I were to make a html + css template for making custom pokémon teams (cough such as for OCs cough) in the Bulbapedia widget style, would anyone else be interested in using it? if so I will go into this trying to write it as an actual decent template

[ravendavia]

it's always been you and your first comfort character.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[hanafubukki]

Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

[cosmicalily]

"pilates princess" a changbin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i was talking to @thevampywolf this morning about how there's a proper lack of changbin fluff fics on tumblr atm and i decided to make it my mission of the day to change that! i absolutely love binnie, he's the silliest, sweetest guy and i was thinking of how to blend his gym obsession with his adorable personality, and a (very much so in love) pilates princess was born!!

Seo Changbin did not have time for girls.

According to his roommate, Han Jisung, his one and only true love was the gym, where he spent almost every spare second of his day. His diet consisted of protein powder, chicken breasts, green smoothies and instant ramen. He only drank cold brews with absolutely no sugar, because he couldn’t stand sweet things. 

He was pretty quiet and some would say intimidating. Didn’t say a lot, didn’t do a lot.

But now, watching you, he felt something different. He felt strange. He felt soft.

Changbin looked over at you curiously from the bench press, pausing to catch his breath for a moment as you stretched your body like a cat, toes pointed, shoulders straight.

Dressed in a pale pink sports bra with a matching long-sleeved ballet wrap and black leggings, to say you looked a little out of place in a predominantly male gym was an understatement. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, a sticker-decorated water bottle by the side of your mat and an iced milky-green drink beside it.

You breathed slowly, stretching your arms forward and touching your toes before sitting straight, cocking your head at your one-man audience.

“Why are you watching me?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, self-consciously placing a hand over your chest. “I’m here for the exact same reason as you, it’s not my fault the girls’ dorms don’t have a gym.”

Changbin flushed. “I’m sorry. It probably seemed creepy, fuck, it’s not, I promise. I’m just . . . curious. What were you doing? I’ve never seen anyone exercise like that. Everyone who comes in either beats the shit out of the boxing bag or lifts.”

“Pilates,” you smiled, looking less uncomfortable. “I got my instructing licence a bit ago, but the place I teach at is only open in the mornings. So if I’ve had an early class or lecture and want to work out in the afternoon, I have to come here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here voluntarily. You guys are gross.”

He pouted. “I’m not. I’m cute.” 

“Yeah, sure you are, princess,” you chuckled, taking a sip from the green drink. You noticed him looking at it. “It’s matcha, do you want some?”

“Fuck no, my friend said that tastes like grass,” Changbin shook his head furiously.

You laughed at him, inching the cup closer to him. “C’mon, try a sip. You’ll like this one, it’s sweet. I always get vanilla in it since I can’t stand bitter drinks.”

He very cautiously leaned forward, looking at you carefully in case you recoiled when he pressed his lips on the straw. You didn’t, seeming less and less shy by the second, watching him eagerly as he swallowed.

“...and the verdict is?” you prompted.

“Where can I get my own?”

Jisung looked around Changbin’s room in shock, eyes comically wide as he took in his surroundings. Sure, it had been a week while he’d been staying with his parents, but surely Changbin’s life hadn’t changed so . . . drastically? Or had he somehow been invaded by some kind of pink fairy?

A pale pink sports bra lay strewn on Changbin’s bed, accompanied by a pair of soft grey flared leggings and a drink bottle. There was a handbag too, with ribbons and cute fluffy keychains, all belongings that most certainly were not his. But there were slightly more permanent looking changes, too. A pink MyMelody sticker on Changbin’s previously pristine laptop. A little beaded bow charm on his duffle bag. Two polaroids pinned above his bed; one of a girl making a kissy face, another of her with Changbin, pinching his cheek as he beamed at her adoringly.

Did Seo Changbin have a girlfriend?

And why wasn’t she a black-donning, gym obsessed weirdo like he was?

“Oh hi, Ji, you’re back!” Changbin smiled wide, something that Jisung swore he had never seen in all his time being his roommate. Or at least, not for a very long time. But Changbin had a whole different air about him; his body, although still buff, didn’t seem as tense as it usually was. His brow wasn’t furrowed and there was colour in his cheeks. And, for the love of God, had he blow dried his hair?

Jisung smiled back. “Hey, Bin. What are you drinking? New protein powder?”

“It’s a vanilla matcha, you should try it,” he handed it to Jisung, who took a tentative sip then stared, open-mouthed in shock.

“That’s . . . sweet.”

“No shit,” Changbin laughed at him, thumping his friend on the back. “It’s good, right? Y/N introduced me to them.”

Jisung handed it back, still suspicious that the real Seo Changbin had been abducted and that the man in front of him was a secret twin. “Oh, nice. Is that her stuff in your room?”

“Sure is,” a sweet voice chuckled from behind Changbin. A petite girl flew through the door, wrapping her arms tight around Changbin’s waist. “I’m Y/N, Jisung. It’s nice to finally meet you! Binnie’s told me so much about you two.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re . . . ?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Changbin said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, but he’s the babygirl. Everyone knows that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “He’s a pilates princess now, Jisung, I’ve converted him. Surprised he wasn’t doing it earlier; it’s very him, you know.”

Jisung blinked slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Seo Changbin? A princess?” he mumbled.

“Sure I am,” Changbin shrugged, and Jisung promptly fainted in shock.

[fluff-cember]

Fluffcember 2024

Heyho.

@alpaca-clouds here!

I was asked whether I would create Fluffcember as an official challenge this year, and I thought to myself: You know what? Why not?

Hence this blog - and a really early posting of the list.

Rules

This is a 1-month-challenge for fluffy fanworks.

All sorts of fanworks (art, writing, graphics) welcome.

We will however not accept any AI-Art or AI-Writing!

SFW and NSFW is both welcome - but please make sure to tag it accordingly.

Tag CWs if you share under this tag!

No minimum or maximum word count for writing!

We will reblog entries during the month of December!

If you have questions: The asks are open!

Full list of prompts under the cut.

Day 01: Roasted Marshmallows

Day 02: Winter Flu

Day 03: Snow Man

Day 04: Christmas Sweater

Day 05: Northern Lights

Day 06: Gingerbread House

Day 07: Condensed Breath

Day 08: Sparkling Snow

Day 09: Sugar Rush

Day 10: Carols

Day 11: Slippery

Day 12: Skiing

Day 13: Fire and Ice

Day 14: Winter Soup

Day 15: Naughty List

Day 16: Chocolate

Day 17: Snowed in

Day 18: Mistletoe

Day 19: Fondue

Day 20: Fairy Tales

Day 21: Cabin in the Snow

Day 22: Winter Storm

Day 23: Confessions

Day 24: Christmas Tree

Day 25: The Perfect Gift

Day 26: Forgiveness

Day 27: Family Gathering

Day 28: Cold Turkey

Day 29: Mint

Day 30: Warming Up

Day 31: Fireworks

Alternatives:

Hot Bath

Fallen Through The Ice

Holiday Decoration

Homecooked Meals

Coming Home

[flawseer]

#29b - "Pokémon"

Smaugust 2024

I felt bad for kind of phoning this one in. So I cut into some of my down time to resurrect a small portion of my original plan for this prompt.

You may or may not be confused by some of the typings I have chosen for these characters, foremost likely why none of them have "Dragon" as their type. Dragon, in the source material, is supposed to be a rare type, and I believe this characteristic would become muddled and meaningless if it was given to basically every character in the story. So the Dragon type here is reserved for Queens, great leaders, and characters of mythical significance. This means that Glory will evolve into a Poison/Dragon type somewhere down the line.

Another, smaller source of befuddlement may come from making Starflight a Dark type. I had this idea that, in ancient times, Nightwings used to be Psychic types, but then became Dark types when they lost their powers.

And lastly, it's not relevant for the characters on these cards, but the Fairy type is reserved for animus dragons.

Here are some other characters who didn't make it:

Moonwatcher, PSYCHIC, Quiet nature, Forewarn

Winter, ICE, Serious nature, Dazzling

Kinkajou, POISON, Impish nature, Vital Spirit

Turtle, WATER/FAIRY, Timid nature, Battle Armor

Qibli, GROUND/POISON, Naughty nature, Adaptability

Peril, FIRE/FLYING, Lonely nature, Flame Body

Riptide, WATER/FIGHTING, Serious nature, Contrary

Deathbringer, DARK/GHOST, Quirky nature, Infiltrator

Fatespeaker, DARK/PSYCHIC, Jolly nature, Anticipation

Flame, FIRE/DARK, Hasty nature, Pickpocket

Squid, WATER, Naive nature, Damp

Ochre, GROUND/ROCK, Lax nature, Gluttony

Viper, GROUND/POISON, Bold nature, Aftermath

Anemone, WATER/FAIRY, Sassy nature, Klutz

Icicle, ICE, Serious nature, Competitive

Ostrich, GROUND/POISON, Impish nature, Keen Eye

Tamarin, POISON/GRASS, Modest nature, Flower Gift

Webs, WATER, Timid nature, Defeatist

Dune, GROUND/POISON, Calm nature, Slow Start

Kestrel, FIRE/FLYING, Hardy nature, Anger Point

Morrowseer, DARK, Lonely nature, Mold Breaker

Scarlet, DRAGON/FIRE, Bold nature, Bad Dreams

Coral, DRAGON/WATER, Adamant nature, Merciless

Burn, DRAGON/GROUND, Bold nature, Beast Boost

Blister, DRAGON/POISON, Careful nature, Corrosion

Blaze, DRAGON/GROUND, Relaxed nature, Emergency Exit

Darkstalker, PSYCHIC/FAIRY, Impish nature, Wonder Guard

Clearsight, PSYCHIC, Serious nature, Telepathy

Fathom, WATER/FAIRY, Timid nature, Triage

Indigo, WATER/FIGHTING, Hardy nature, Stalwart

Whiteout, DARK/PSYCHIC, Quirky nature, Own Tempo

Blue, BUG/NORMAL, Mild nature, Simple

Cricket, BUG, Jolly nature, Power of Alchemy

And probably many more that I didn't get around to.

The default ability of Rainwings would likely be Color Change, for Mudwings it would be Earth Eater... Maybe Sturdy for Sandwings.

Okay, I think that's enough.

[zoe-oneesama]

I finished "Kira Kira Pre Cure A La Mode" like a month ago, and I have brain rot that makes a Miraculous Ladybug AU out of anything with an animal theme so here we go. I would label this more as a crossover tbh and even thought of my own rules to make it coexist in the Miraculous Ladybug Universe.

Ko-fi | Patreon

To start, they break a few Miraculous Rules: the Miraculouses themselves have no resemblance to the animal they're imitating, and their powers are closer to their Pre Cure ones, which are baking/cooking based. And the reason I have for this is that these are technically not Miraculouses and technically not kwamis.

They aren't the "Miraculous of [x]" representing a concept, they're actually fairies who desire to be heroes. As such, they're actually at odds with Kwamis and there's a bit of a feud between them - the Kwamis have always worked alongside humans and see the Fairies as reckless and violating nature's laws, while the Fairies see the Kwamis as hording all the fun and not even trying to bridge the gap between them.

I imagine akumas would start showing up in Japan in Ichigozaka, bringing out the six PreCure Miraculouses, and they'd eventually follow them back to Paris to have a showdown with Hawkmoth AND the existing heroes. While the kwamis and fairies are having it out, the humans are meeting in the middle.

Ichika uses Whipp to become Crème Fouettée (Whipped Cream), a Bunny Hero with the ability "Batter Up", which captures the enemy in a giant cake. It has the side effect of being able to extract an akuma, but it can't purify it.

Himari uses Flann to become Swirl Caramel, a Squirrel Hero with modified clacker/rope darts as a weapon and the ability "Cherry Bomb", which is pretty self explanatory.

Aoi uses Aisuu to become Glace Bleue (Blue Ice), a Lion Hero with the ability "Gelato Shake", which encases her fist in a block of ice for even more painful punchs.

Yukari uses Cookie to become Kitty Macaron, a Cat Hero with a spiked yoyo and the ability "Cat Scratch" which inflates the size of the yoyo and increases their strength, making them able to scratch through anything.

Akira uses Chocco to Chien Rouge (Red Dog), a Dog Hero with the ability "Chocolate Armose" which creates a chocolate shield.

Ciel "uses" RinRin to become Blande Volante (Flying Bands), a Pegasus Hero with the ability "Kiracle Rainbow", which fully purifies the enemy and all of the damage caused during a fight. (If you know you know)

[tarisbackyard]

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

[justauthoring]

yours, always.

requested -> ooh since ur writing fairy tail fics now, how abt a gray x ice dragon slayer reader where she just likes the taste of gray’s ice and always convinces him to make her some by -> anonymous

a/n -> it's been a hot minute since i wrote for fairy tail and gray is just adorable so here yall go

pairing -> gray fullbuster x f!reader

want to support me? send me a coffee!

���blegh.”

from across the bar, drying a cup in her hands, mirajane raises a curious brow. “what’s the matter, y/n?”

meeting her eyes, you pout, draped across the top of her bar rather dramatically. your hands stretch out before you, and you not so subtly shove the cup of ice away from you. “i’m hungry.”

“oh,” she frowns, concerned, eyes momentarily eyeing the cup of ice you'd shoved away. “i can make you something if you’d like? you need only ask, y/n. you know that.”

you turn to her, letting your chin rest on the table instead of your cheek and frown, not having meant to insult her. “I know, mira. thank you,” you say honestly, sending her a small smile. “it’s not food really that i’m hungry for, it’s—“

whatever you’d been about to say promptly gets cut off by the sound of the doors open. you straighten, surprising mirajane as you practically leap to your feet. instantly, your head is snapping towards the door, desperately hopeful, before your eyes practically shine at the sight of a familiar dark-haired (shirtless) mage.

“gray!” you call, bounding towards him without a second thought.

at the sound of his name, gray turns to face you, settling once he realizes just who called for him. his face brightens and a gentle smile curls on his lips as his arms widen to hug you, body obviously easing at you, his girlfriend, given how much he’d missed you while taking solo job.

it wasn't even like he'd been gone for that long — the mission had taken no more than two days. it was just rare that the two of you didn't go together, or at least with the rest of team natsu, but you hadn't been feeling well so you'd opted out.

you'd severely regretted that decision the second gray left.

except, you don’t jump into his arms like gray expects, arms shifting to prepare himself. instead, you stop right before him, hands reaching to clasp his wrist and tug it towards your chest.

“ice.”

and he blinks, stunned and confused, the whole thing happening in a blink of the eye to gray. he's dreadfully confused and a little disappointed because he'd been looking forward to that hug and then, your words register and he smirks teasingly.

“and here i thought you actually missed me.”

eyes shifting from his hand to his eyes, you pause. “oh, yes, gray of course i missed you. im glad you’re safe,” you rush out in a way that doesn’t completely seem heartfelt in the way gray had really wanted. but, he guessed, it was that thought that counted?

“now, ice. im starving.”

huffing, gray moves to oblige, not able to deny your request but still pouting about it.

“seriously,” he whines, feeling rerribly unlike himself (only you would have the ability to make him whine), holding his hand and making some ice for you to take. “it’s like you just use me to eat my ice. did you know that i missed you and you were on my thoughts the entire—“

gray halts when he feels your lips press against his cheek.

lips parting, his eyes follow you as you lean back, the ice he’d made for you held safely in your hands as you beam up at him.

“thank you,” you whisper, warm and genuine.

the sight of you smiling at him like that and the sound of your voice has gray short circuiting, cheeks turning a bright red as you move to happily munch of the ice.

“mm!” you exclaims, giddy and satisfied. “delicious. as always. no other ice can compare.”

and it’s silly and stupid. it’s just ice, but it melts gray’s heart and your words mean so much to him that all he can manage is to smile back at you, eyes flooded with love.

"you're welcome," he muses, watching you with adoring eyes. with the ice happily in your hands as you munch away, gray wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against his side as he leads you towards a table.

truthfully, he'll give you all the ice in the world if it makes you that happy every time.

and he'd be foolish to deny how happy it makes him that only his ice can satisfy your craving.

[holybibly]

Unholy thoughts of the day:

Your life is like a fairy tale when you have not one but two incredibly sexy and gorgeous house husbands who want nothing more than your constant attention and love.

Yeosang and Seonghwa could never understand your desire to work. Born with a diamond spoon in their mouths and coming from old money, they have been bathed in luxury and wealth all their lives, so it was beyond them why you wanted to continue working in your mediocre, boring company after marriage.

However, they never argued with you on the matter, allowing you to be an "independent and self-sufficient" wifey and fully enjoying their role as your spoiled house husbands.

At first glance, they seemed completely different—the quiet, elegant Yeosang and the bitchy, demanding Seonghwa were like ice and fire, but in reality, they were both exactly the same—greedy, insatiable, passionate, and incredibly demanding. If they wanted you, it was "right here, right now" with no options. They didn't care if you were in public or in the privacy of your luxurious mansion; you would fuck like rabbits on any surface.

They also loved to dress up for you, shamelessly showing off their stunning, seductive bodies in the most exciting and vulgar ways—lacy lingerie, corsets, precious chokers and pearl necklaces, long silk or transparent robes with feathers, or the softest pyjamas made of translucent fabrics that could not hide the fact that they had no underwear. Sometimes you could see piercings in their nipples or a precious ring around the base of their dicks. As house husbands, their main job was your pleasure and enjoyment, and their appearance was very important. You always had to have full access to their bodies.

Seonghwa was more demanding—a real attention seeker who could not keep his hands and mouth to herself.

When you had the opportunity to work from home, Hwa was always there, constantly distracting you from your work and craving your attention and touch. He would dress up especially for you, lower himself elegantly between your legs, and give you seductive siren eyes before pressing his face to your pussy, purring like a kitten as he smelled and tasted the heat of your cunt.

You try to push his gorgeous face away from your pussy, especially when you have an important video call, but it only makes him more insistent. With two fingers he pulls your panties aside and begins to lick your folds slowly and long - drooling on the soft skin and taking turns to sucking your labia into his insatiable mouth. All your pleas for him to stop fall on deaf ears, he is having the time of his life, pushing his fingers into your little hole and immediately hitting your sweet spot.

Seonghwa bends his fingers inside you, rubbing the pads of his fingers at your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you with the most mesmerising bedroom eyes. His mouth is slightly open from heavy breathing, your mucus dripping from his chin along with saliva and he looks so fucked already.

He whispers to you how amazing you are and how much he loves the feel of you on his tongue, dirty, disgusting words flowing from his lips like honey. All he wants is for you to smother him with your pretty pink cunt, squirt all over his face and let him fuck you senseless. Seonghwa has always been more  "obsessed" with you, you are his everything and as the most amazing house husband he has to please you all the time.

Eventually he gets tired of not having your full attention and crawls up your body until he is straddling you completely. His tall, lithe frame towering over you, he wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes with force until your mouth opens and he can spit into it, admiring the way his saliva mixed with your slime melts on your tongue. With his other hand, he slams your laptop shut, signalling that the games are over.

"You must never forget that I am your main job, darling. And if Mommy doesn't pay enough attention to Daddy, I'll never let you go anywhere again. I will tie you to the bed and fuck you all day long, over and over again. You will be covered in my cum, fucked so hard and so well that your beautiful hole will be open and stretched all the time. And even that won't stop me. Do you understand me, love? Now will you give me your full attention and fuck me properly, do I make myself clear?"

Yeosang loves to fuck you in the morning, when you are all sleepy and overly sensitive after a night of play. He leaves lazy, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder, presses himself against you from behind, and rubs your clit lazily. Yeo moans deeply into your ear, his velvety low voice husky and sultry as he feels his fingers begin covered in your juices. He even thinks about waking you up by sticking his tongue in your pussy, but when he looks at Seonghwa sleeping peacefully next to you with his plump lips all swollen and red from how much he ate you last night, he knows that if you wake him up with your moans, the older's mouth will immediately envelope your cunt. 

So he slides his fingers between your folds until they circle the edge of your sensitive, fluttering hole, then slides inside your pussy to the base.

His heavy, hard cock pulses hotly against your ass, staining the soft skin with pre-cum, and Yeosang squeezes the plump flesh of your ass cheek to pull it back and watch as your cunt stretches around his fingers. You whimper, squirming in your place between the naked bodies of your handsome house husbands, unconsciously pushing yourself deeper onto Yeosang's fingers.

When the amber-eyed vixen thinks he's stretched you enough, he replaces his fingers with his cock, slowly pushing the massive, veiny length into you inch by inch until his balls rest against the underside of your ass cheeks.

Yeo lifts your leg slightly, spreads you open for him and begins to fuck you lazily. His lips leave purple marks on your skin, his fingers dig into your flesh until bruised as his cock slides between your hot, slippery walls wrapped around him in the best way possible. You always fit him like a glove. 

You jerk, finally waking from your sleep as the swollen head of his cock hits your cervix with a particularly deep thrust from your handsome husband's strong hips. You moan loudly and turn your head back to meet Yeosang's heavy, half-closed eyes. He glows in the early morning light, his skin smooth and damp with sweat, and you want to lick him clean.

"Sangie, so good..."

"Mmm, angel, I want to please you. I want to fuck your brains out, love, until you're swollen with my cum." He whispers sultrily against your lips, then picks up the pace and begins to fuck you the way he likes—hard and deep. His thrusts are short and aggressive, the head of his cock hitting your G-spot hard with each movement, and you squeal, writhing in the tight grip of his hands.

As Yeosang suspected, Seonghwa doesn't keep you waiting. His beautiful, cat-like eyes open wide and immediately cloud with lust as he sees how Yeosang fucks you.

"Show me..." Hwa orders, his voice hoarse from sleep, and your second husband laughs at the commanding notes in his voice. Seonghwa is always too whipped for you.

But Yeosang lifts your leg higher so Hwa can see his thick cock stretching your pink hole, sliding in and out, all glistening and slick with your juices.

"Fuck..." Seonghwa hisses, reaching out and tracing his fingers around the spot where you and Yeosang meet.

"Oh my God..." you practically scream from the amount of stimulation you're getting right now. "I'm going to cum, Sangie."

"Come on, angel, cum all over my cock, cover it with cream. I want to see you come for us."

Seonghwa moans next to you, and you realise that your second husband is jerking off lazily next to you, watching Yeosang fuck you. The sight of Seonghwa's graceful fingers sliding over his beautiful thick cock and Yeo continuing to pound his cock into your sweet spot brings you to orgasm, and you cum hard, covering your husband's cock with your cream.

"That's it, angel. Perfect as always." Yeosang whispers to you as he continues to fuck you, prolonging your orgasm, you moaning from the overstimulation and practically squealing as you feel Seonghwa's hot lips touching your clit.

"You have two husbands, my love. Never forget that."

[onlyangel4]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos and always teasing her about her height but only him could do it. No one else was allowed. Thanks!! :))

little one. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which you are five foot tall and toto finds it the cutest thing ever or a few moments with toto based on your height.

warnings- cursing. fluff. smut. size kink. unprotected sex in a very established relationship. fingering.

author's note: i know this request was meant to be cute and full of fluff but i may have gotten a little carried away. please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

"papa she is doing that thing again", jack spoke. your son had seen you pulling a chair over to the kitchen cabinets and knew exactly what you were about to do. something that your husband had made clear he did not like you doing.so jack had made a beeline to toto's home office to go and get his father so that he could deal with it and help you.

"okay son, i've got it from here", toto spoke a slight smirk on his lips. toto made his way through the house and to the kitchen where he found you on a chair that you had dragged next to the cabinet. "schatz", he tutted softly making your head whip round to look at him, "what have i told you about doing that"

"well i wanted biscuits and you put them at the top to hide them from jack and i couldn't reach them. and you are busy so i didn't want to bother you", you spoke still standing on the chair. "issue is i still can't reach them, they are right at the back", you spoke a pout now on your lips making your husband laugh.

"i'll get them but first get down", toto spoke his arms wrapping around your waist and effortlessly moving you from the chair and onto the ground. he then reached up and easily found the biscuits placing them in your awaiting hands.

"you need to stop doing that, you could fall and break your neck"

"don't be dramatic toto", you spoke shaking your head at your husband. he approached you his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you into him so he could place a kiss on your forehead. "i just worry schatz"

"i know but not all of us are blessed with being six foot five", you laughed softly.

"i will get people to lower the cupboards if it makes you stop climbing on the counter like a cat little one", he laughed softly.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

deep down toto loved the height difference between you both you were so small so delicate especially contrasting against toto's hulking figure. it was so obvious a fairy and her giant.

toto was completly captivated by it and there were sometimes where toto could not help himself.

this particular time toto had come home from work to find walking around the house in just one of his white button up shirts with only your favourite white lace thong underneath it. you had been icing cupcakes that jack had helped you make before your parents had come to pick him up for the weekend. you had icing sugar dashed across your forehead, hair pulled up into the messiest ponytail to keep it away from your eyes.

toto cleared his throat alerting you to his presence. your face turned to look at him, "evening love", you chirped looking at him, "the kitchen is a bit of a state jack wanted to make cupcakes before going to see my mama but we didn't have enough time to ice them", you spoke but from toto's gaze you could tell that he was looking at you but not listening, "you alright love, what are you thinking?"

"that i should burn all of your clothes so you have to wear mine all the time", it was so matter of fact, a bold statement from your husband. once that made you blush. you moved to approach him, your arms tugging at his collar so he would bend down to kiss you. which he did. but usually these kisses after work were an innocent greeting but this one was anything but. there was heat behind the movement of toto's mouth. he was putting his all into the kiss, his hands moved to your waist large hands gripping handfuls of your ass. as he pulled away from the kiss he looked down at you, "i need you now little one. is anything in the oven?", he spoke not wanting to cause a fire in the house. when you shook your head that was the green light that he needed to pick you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

toto quickly walked you both to the bedroom, once inside he pressed your back against the wall and allowed his lips to run up and down your neck nibbling and biting at it, glad that you were currently in the middle of writing a book so you had no public appearances, meaning that he could leave all the marks he wanted to on your skin. he kissed from your neck back up to your ear, "I am going to fuck you in my shirt schatz", he whispered huskily in your ear. his eyes were blown with lust as he moved to throw you down onto the bed, this manhandling making a wetness form between your legs.

you loved being reminded of your husband's strength and simple acts like this were the perfect examples of this. you laid back on the bed watching as your husband moved to hover over you, "you look so pretty in my shirt little one. it swamps you and you look so perfect. makes me want to fuck you just so you know how much i love you."

"i know how much you love me toto"

"sh just let me show you", he whispered as his hands moved to bunch the shirt up at your waist revealing your clothed pussy to him, "isn't she pretty", he cooed as he pulled the flimsy white lace down your legs discarding it on the floor. toto placed a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs before he moved his thumb to your sensitive clit. he began to rub circles on your clit relishing in each moan that tumbled from your lips and the way that your hands fisted the bed sheets.

"let those moans out little one, i want to hear them", he spoke before pushing one finger into your pussy, thrusting it at a steady pace. "fuck, you are so fucking tight princess, such a good girl taking it for me", he praised.

"toto", you whined, this was the warning that your orgasm was near, so he began to use more pressure on your clit as he fingered you and soon enough that wave of pleasure came crashing down on you soundtracked by a moan of his name leaving your lips.

toto was feral by this point, all he wanted was to be inside of you, and you knew it. so you moved your hands down to the belt holding his slacks up and unbuckled it. he then helped you pull his trousers down. he was rock hard. "i can't wait to be inside of you my love", he spoke softly before kissing you again, full of love and passion.

toto tapped your clit with his cock before he pushed inside of you, an all to familiar groan falling from his lips as he did so. you were so tight, fucking you after all of these years still felt like that day he took your virginity. it was such a perfect feeling to be so deeply connected with his wife.

toto set a steady pace with his hips, he still had his shirt on and you were still wearing that button down that made him go feral. you were so desperate for him that you did not care that you were still fully clothed. "that's my girl. taking me so good", you growled in your ear as his hips pistoned against you. your back arched the feeling of pleasure washing over your body. getting to be intimate like this with the man that you loved was such a blissful feeling, it left your mind reeling.

toto bit down on your neck hoping to leave a pretty little mark there and that was the point where you lost all control, "toto", you moaned softly, "i'm so close"

"i know schatje, i know", he whispered softly in your ear, "come with me darling"

and with that your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks a loud moan falling from your bitten lips, that was all toto needed to push him over the edge and he found himself emptying inside of you.

"such a good girl", he praised, "you always take me so well", he spoke as he pulled out peppering kisses along your neck as he did so before he pulled you into his arms letting his body protect yours.

you both laid there incredibly content and so unbelievably in love.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.  

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"  

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

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