#i could never subject them to the likes of my male taste

[ickadori]

i keep seeing the term blorbo mansion all over my dash and the idea is so funny to me bc wdym all the men i wanna swallow down are in one house??

[violestars]

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2

Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.

As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.

School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.

“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.

“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.

“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”

As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.

Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.

He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.

It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.

Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.

But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.

You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.

You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.

Sunday loves you so he will let you go.

© art by @/Ceoretkr on twt

[yearning-for-autumn]

Eris NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Ok, this is very self-indulgent...leave in the comments who you would like next! Also any other headcanons you have for Eris. I literally live for comments.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Eris loves aftercare because A. deep down he’s an exhausted mother hen and B. he’s touch starved. Basically it’s more for him than it is for you. Just let him fuss over you and he’ll be happy. After a particularly intense session, he has a deep need to know you are ok, that you feel safe and cared for. He can’t bear the thought of you not feeling like the princess you are, and if you ever experience subdrop he would absolutely panic and be very much not chill about it.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eris is fond of his hands, he has long fingers (wink wink). He likes to compare his hands with yours to see the size difference. 

On you, Eris is a tits guy through and through. He’s never really grown out of the teenage obsession, and thinks any and all boobs are great. Small boobs, perfect to hold. Big boobs, perfect to fuck. All boobs are good to suck on. I’m not going to say anything about Mummy issues but I’m sure you can catch my drift. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

On the subject of tits, Eris loves to cum on them. There’s something about claiming you with his seed that gets him worked up. Whenever he cums anywhere on your body you know you’re about to go for round two, he can’t help it. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Eris has this fantasy of dressing you up in a collar and having you act like his little pet all day. He keeps this under wraps and probably always will unless you’re down to clown. But there’s something that gets him so worked up about the thought of having you down on all fours, a collar with a tag that says his name on it, lapping at his thighs for a taste of his cock whilst he coos, talking about how sweet you are, what a cute puppy…yeah…

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think Eris is probably quite experienced. He had an adventurous youth, behind his fathers back of course, and he definitely knows how to fuck you right. When he’s finally free of his father though, and is able to have a proper relationship with someone he loves, I can imagine him getting nervous that he’s not experienced enough with anything long term, but this is his inner critic talking, I don’t think you would be complaining.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Eris wants you on your knees, whether that’s all-fours, on the floor, riding him, etc. He’s a big big fan of reverse cowgirl because he can watch his cock driving into you in exquisite detail, and he can pull out and paint the small of your back with his cum so easily. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Eris isn’t really a goofy guy, his humour is more dry and sarcastic which doesn’t translate great to sex. He tends to be pretty serious, and the only humour involved is one sided, with him amusing himself, degrading and teasing you (but let’s be honest, you love it).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes, 100 percent. He has a happy trail down his perfect v-line and keeps things well-groomed, he’s a male that values his appearance. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Eris doesn’t really go in for romance, he swings one of two ways, hard dom or super soft dom. Depending on his (and your) mood, he can be an arrogant, degrading ass, or sweet and gentle yet teasing. He’s very good at reading your mood and always knows exactly how to play things, this man is an expert in body language. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Eris prefers if you’re the one getting him off, honestly he would ask for a handjob everyday if he could (he probably does). But if either of you are away, he’s not exactly going to not masturbate to the memories of you, cock drunk and drooling as he fists your hair and takes you in his chair right in front of the window so all of Autumn can see. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

DDLG - When you’re both in a certain mood, I think Eris likes to baby you a lot. He wants to look after you, in the small things as well as during sex. He loves it when you act all shy and innocent, it only makes him want you more.

Innocence - More on that topic, I feel like Eris has a bit of a virginity kink. He would definitely want to be the one to take your virginity if possible, and if not don’t worry because he’s down to role-play. 

Pet-play - Eris wants to own you. He wants a collar around your neck, and he wants you to obey his every command. He also thinks you look absolutely adorable with little puppy ears clipped into your hair, it makes him want to absolutely ruin you. Call him Master, better yet call him your King.

This is going to come up later as well, but I don’t think Eris would want to switch with anyone other than someone he was extremely comfortable with, so before you he would have never tried it. That being said, he does have a bit of a Mummy kink (yes im british sorry) and I think he would be down to explore this, but he’s definitely more comfortable in the dominant role. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Eris is a bit of a fan of public sex but only when you are involved. He doesn’t really want to put himself in a compromising position, but he’s more than happy to show you off. More than anything he wants people to see your submission to him, not necessarily sexual, but imagine sitting next to him in a meeting and all of a sudden you’re pulled onto his lap so that he can kiss your neck whilst listening to some boring courtier.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. You get him going. Because he’s horny. No but he’s sooo turned on if you sink to your knees, bat your eyelashes, ask him if you can make him feel good. He’s so going to cum all over your face. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Eris likes to degrade you, but if he ever gets comfortable enough to sub for you he can and will cry if you try it. Don’t degrade him. His self-esteem is on the ground as it is, there’s no need for that. 

He also doesn’t really want to do anything involving feet, I just have a silly headcanon that he really dislikes them. Like it’s bordering on a phobia for him. He hates seeing them. Who knows why, I definitely don’t and I just made it up. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man can make shoving his cock in your mouth feel like he’s the one giving you a treat. Like is it really giving, no, but do you appreciate it, yes.

He is an all-star pussy eater though, he’ll probably eat you out quickly and efficiently as part of foreplay most days to make sure you are thoroughly soaked and open for him. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Eris fucks rough. Let’s be real. He fucks with fire in his veins, I doubt that means slow and romantic. On your anniversary though, he’s going to light candles, and he’s going to drive you absolutely out of your mind, fucking you slow and hard, whispering praise and cruel teasing as he fucks you into the bed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Eris loves a quickie honestly. Oh, he’s got a meeting at 10? Time for a quick fuck. Oh you’re late for work? But you have 15 minutes for a blowjob right? 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is down to experiment, I mean he’s quite kinky really and has experimented in the past, but he’ll be a bit nervous to scare you off or go too far when you’re early in your relationship. He has some trust issues he’s working through, but he really does want to try everything with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mmm Eris lasts a long time, and he wants to go multiple rounds. He just has so many positions he wants you in that he can’t just choose one, he has to try a few out right?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Eris love love loves to dress you up, i’m talking collar, garters, lingerie. He’s very much into toys, for both of you, and thinks anything that enhances your pleasure is worth it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a tease, he’s a degrading tease. ‘Aw baby you like that? Stupid slut, drooling around my cock, does my pretty baby want more? Hm? Well you’re not getting it.’ 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I think at first he would stick to dirty talk, and try not to moan too loudly. But after you express your interest he lets go completely. He’s feral, he’s loud and he doesn’t stop talking. You could probably cum from just his words to be honest, he has a filthy mouth. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think the first time you ever try pegging Eris he cums literally immediately. He won’t let you bring it up ever, and he’s insanely embarrassed by it, but deep down he knows you only care about making him feel good and would never tease him in bad faith. It takes him a little while to try it again though, because our poor baby is repressed. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Eris has such a pretty cock. It curves upwards in just the right way, it’s the prettiest shade of pink at the tip and blushes deep red when he’s needy and desperate. He’s longer than he is thick, and it hits all the right spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eris is a horny horny boy, but he’s quite good at hiding it. He tries his best not to overwhelm you with how much he wants you, but realistically you want him just as much, I mean how could you not.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eris physically cannot fall asleep until you are asleep. He will fuss over you for as long as it takes, and no matter how much his eyes are drooping shut, he needs to know you are tucked up and comfy first.

[milunalupin]

hi hi hi! so many congrats on a 100 followers, what a deserved accomplishment, love!!

you can obviously ignore this if you're uncomfortable writing this/or this doesn't hit your creative spot. because this is so cliched uggh.

okay so i was thinking maybe a little grumpy!reader x sunshine!sirius, friends to lovers trope? (it makes so weak in the knees 🫠.) feel free to take the plot literally anywhere your heart desires, because you'll serve either ways!!

love you, make sure to drink water and eat good. hope you have a great day/night ahead.

--🍁autumn

hi hi my love ! thank you for you patience <3 and adding more sirius to my blog

— sunshine

sunshine!sirius x grumpy!reader ★ 1.2k words

"Sirius Black if you don't stop tapping your finger against the table, I will not hesitate to hex you."

You sent a glare towards the raven haired boy from across the table. History of Magic was your worst subject and you had a big exam coming up. "Why aren't you with the other boys anyways?"

It's not like you two weren't friends, but Sirius wasn't usually the one to seek you out. It was usually Peter since he was the one who introduced you to his friends, then Remus who at times also enjoyed his peace and quiet. You spent quite a bit of time with the girls too, especially since you all roomed together. James and Sirius had always been friendly with you, but it wasn't like you would stay up in the common room sharing secrets, although Sirius had recently been around you more than than normal.

"Well aren't you just a ray of light." Sirius sent you a lopsided grin, setting his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands. "They're out somewhere with Prongs looking for Evans, and I wanted to see my favorite girl."

Your quill froze over the parchment. Sirius was such a flirt, you couldn't take anything he said to you to heart, because he didn't mean it, right? You lowered your head and tried to focus on your notes, pretending like you didn't hear him.

"Anyways," he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "You know about his problem with Evans, and you're a girl, could you give me some advice to relay back to him?"

"Thanks for noticing. What kind of advice?"

"Well, what sort of things do girls like to receive?"

"I don't know Sirius, I don't regularly receive gifts from boys." You rolled your eyes and scoffed, glancing up at him to see his eyes on you, waiting for an answer. "but I supposed I would quite like it if someone brought me my favorite drink, or book. You know, it shows that they've paid attention to the little things."

"So how would you- girls-" he let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. "How would girls like to be asked on a date?"

How would you know? You didn't want to speak negatively of yourself but there had to be some reason as to why boys never came up to you. You would never guess that it was because Sirius had already warned the whole male population at Hogwarts to back off his very pretty friend.

Groaning quietly, you rubbed your hands over your tired face. "Sirius, I don't know, can you please let me review my notes in peace?"

"That doesn't count, you're not being fair." Peter whined, pulling on his hair as he looked down at the chessboard. You shrugged and stuck your tongue out at the boy, getting up and taking a seat on the carpet by the fire next to Lily.

It was the night before your exam and as much as you wanted to hole up in your room and cram, your friends had convinced you to spend time with them. Lily was painting Marlene's fingernails while Remus took your place playing against Peter in chess.

"Who wants hot chocolate!" James called out, Sirius and him walking towards you all with trays of steaming mugs. The two passed out the sweet beverages,

"Thanks Sirius." you thanked him softly, his gaze softening as you wrapped your hands around the warm drink and blew gently on the top. Your eyes brightened as you took a sip and tasted a hint of peppermint.

The rest of the evening was spent playing games, dancing to Remus' new records and sharing Peter's surplus of sweets from Honeydukes. You felt your shoulders relax as you looked around at your friends having a good time, catching Sirius already looking you. His eyes darted away as soon as you saw him, the corners crinkling as he laughed as some joke James had made. You felt a nudge in your side, turning to see Lily cocking her head towards the dorms asking if you were ready to go. Nodding, the three of you girls stood up and waved goodnight to the Marauders and shuffled up to your room.

You flopped into bed with a blissful sigh. "Thanks for tonight guys, I needed this."

Marlene waved her hand in dismissal. "You've studied hard, you needed a bit of a break."

"The peppermint hot chocolate was just the thing I needed, it's my favorite."

"Peppermint hot chocolate?" Lily's nose scrunched with disgust, but then her eyes widened with realization, her and Marlene sharing a knowing grin. "Right, the peppermint hot chocolate."

You turned your head to squint at them. "Why do you two have that look on your faces?"

"We don't know what you're talking about, goodnight!"

You're going to pass the exam, you're to going to p—

"Watch it, you half-breed, or I'll turn you into the little mutt you are." Lucius Malfoy spat at you as you ran into him, pulling out his wand.

"Oh sod off, why don't you put your daddy's money where your mouth is?" you scoffed, reaching for your own wand. He sneered at your comeback, taking a step closer to you.

"Hey sunshine, I was looking everywhere for you! Let me walk you to class." Sirius appeared next to you, taking your school bag and slinging it over his shoulder, shooting a grin to Lucius, canines on full display. "Thanks for watching her for me Malfoy but next time, don't."

Sirius steered you away from the fuming Slytherin, arm around your shoulder. He ducked his head down to speak to you quietly. "You alright?"

"Fine, boys are just jerks." you grumbled, your mind now focusing on your exam as you two turned into the hall where your classroom was located.

"Not all of us though, right?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, your smiled mirroring his own. "Yeah, Pete's alright."

"You're killing me doll." He threw his head back dramatically, his smile slipping as yours did, now standing in front of the History of Magic classroom. "Hey, how about we made a deal?"

"Huh?" you pulled yourself out of a daze, looking up at him. "What's the deal?"

Sirius coughed to the side and straightened his posture. "You get an Outstanding on your exam, and I'll take you out."

A flush crept up your face, not believing your ears. As annoying as he was, of course you had thought about Sirius romantically before, who hadn't? You really hoped your studying paid off, your smile and voice coming out shy. "What if I don't get an Outstanding?"

Sirius lit up like the Great Hall during the holidays, smiling ear to ear. "Then I'm still taking you out to cheer you up. I also have just been dying to take you on a date, sunshine."

An hour later you left the classroom with a giant smile on your face and a big 'O' on your parchment. Sirius immediately took your hand in his and dragged you to Hogsmeade for your first date, the twinkling sound of your laughter letting him know it wouldn't be your last.

[star-crossed-sluts]

Could you please write a loki x reader. Reader gains weight on accident at first but loki likes it so he gets reader to gain more. Fem reader.

If not it’s okay <3

I love writing about men discovering they like reader chubby <3 This is my first time writing third person limited focused on the male lead, so any feedback would be cherished

Contents: 1.1kwords, love mentions, weight gain and associated body changes/insecurities, giggly sex

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

Loki’s never been… particular, shall we say? 

Sex was nothing to him. A means to an end, no care for any specific physical form for his partner to have, let alone prefer it. Love on the other hand was something he’d never dreamed of having for himself - some abstract concept that didn’t exist, at least not for him. He never thought for a second that love was something he would hold in his arms every dawn and dusk, or that he could taste it in homemade cooking and smell it in the bathroom after you’d showered. 

In that aspect, you’d managed to exceed all the expectations he’d never had.

“Fuck!”

Loki never knew how terrible love could be. How his heart could drop out of his body just from a vulgar word in the other room, or how he could be so worried he could completely forget about using magic to get to you faster. Not until he was running through your apartment (which he was slowly and methodically laying his own claim to, until he was so ingrained in your life you couldn’t get rid of him. Naturally.) Why would anyone subject themselves to something that could hurt so much?

And then he laid eyes on your half-nude form and remembered.

Because you were standing in the middle of your bedroom in your undergarments (“please just call them panties,” you’d always beg) and he had the absolute privilege to stare at you as perversely as he desired. If another man thought of you the way he did, he’d have to reconsider world domination. Put the fear of the gods back into those mortals. 

But when you spun around to face him, you had a sour look puckering your lovely features. “You,” you accused, jabbing a finger at him, “are at fault here!”

“Probably,” he conceded instantly. “What have I done?”

You threw some of your clothes at him. He recognized them. You called them the good jeans. He called them infernal invention that keeps me from your sweet pussy. “They don’t fit anymore!”

He tried not to show his pleasure too much. “Oh?” He immediately knew he’d failed, your glare furthering. 

“Oh,” you mocked, a thick British accent on the word. “This is your fault, y’know? Before you, I ate pretty healthy. Now I’m going out every other night to restaurants that smother everything in butter and wine-”

“You’re upset about going out?”

Loki could practically watch memories of the delicious food you’ve been sharing dance through your vision, inducing a small dreamy sigh. “No,” you decided, “no, I’m not. No, I just-” You huffed, falling against his chest and trusting him to both hold you upright and comfort you - which he did happily. “I’m just frustrated because now I have to actually put effort into working out or find new jeans.”

And, well, Loki was adamantly against more jeans, so he may have gently swayed you to the other option. After all, he wanted you happy, and he didn’t care what your form looked like to make that happen.

Until he got you undressed in a different circumstance. 

Until he was bullying his way into your sweet cunt with your soft form pressed against him. Your breasts bouncing against the hard plane of his chest, thick thighs hooked over his slim hips, heels pressed into the small of his back. You felt like velvet all over - from the soft skin pulled taut over wide hips in his hands to the wet heat wrapped around his cock. He hasn’t been so close to blowing his load so soon since his first time between your thighs. 

“Look so beautiful, my love,” spilled from his lips like a waterfall. He simply couldn’t hold it back, and besides that, he wouldn’t want to. His Queen deserved to know just how stunning she was, every minute of the day. Especially when it made you moan into his ear, hand snapping over your mouth like you could take it back, turning away from him even as your hips met his with every thrust. 

His Queen was so shy. 

Loki took the soft tendon on your neck between his teeth, gently working a mark onto the skin, groaning against you as your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. “Don’t hide from me, love,” he coaxed. Long fingers wrapped around your neck from behind, rubbing gentle circles into your hairline, completely contrary and yet perfectly befitting the way he hammered into you. His other hand traveled your body like he was discovering you all over again, caressing every new dip and pudge of skin like you were the most amazing sculpture. People across the world would marvel at your beauty, whisper that man wasn’t capable of creating such magnificence - that you were instead made by a god. 

“Stop,” you slurred through the pleasure, his rolling hips working your sensitive clit against his dark hair. Your hand on his back clawed the pale skin, leaving your mark on him as it curled into a fist, beating the breadth of his shoulders with no force. You giggled through the moans as his fingers danced over your sides, hissing, “that tickles,” at him as if that would ever implore him to quit. “Stop fondling my rolls!”

“What a cruel world,” he lamented theatrically, the only way he knew how, “when a man can’t even fondle his dearest love!” 

“Be serious when you’re in my guts!”

“I am serious, darling!” A sharp tug pulled you higher up on his lap, cock spearing even deeper into you, pushing out a whine from deep in your chest. “Don’t you feel how well we fit? You’re perfect, my love, and your body’s no exception.”

He let you hide away in his neck, nipping your own small marks onto him as his thrusts turned slower, more sensual. “Even when I’ve gained-”

“Don’t you Midgardians have a saying about that? ‘In sickness and in health?’” 

Your lips stretched against him, betraying the way you tried to sound less eager as your hips rolled against his. “Those are wedding vows, Loki.”

He guided you to his lips, devouring you with a smile. “I’m practicing for the future, then.” 

He delighted in the way you giggled as you came on his cock, holding him close as he fucked you through it. He craved the way you no longer shied away when he groped your waist, pulling you harder against him as he used the way your cunt sucked him in to chase his own end.

He had a standing reservation made before your legs stopped shaking.

[tired-hellowl]

here' a comprehensive list as to every problem I have with the current *unecessary characters known as 'Glitz and Glam'

Do they expand the story/worldbuilding in any meaningful way? Do they explore a new hidden dynamic/past conjunction with a differing character and is that explored meaningfully? What was the point of having them animated when Mammon can portray the same level of humiliation/degrading/on stage lack of positive reinforcements. 😐

I'm so sorry but I view these characters as necessary garbage that caused some animators arthritis via too many patterns, not enough screen time to have meat and potatoes worth of dialogue, or really any pretense within the story whatsoever and yes this extends towards every female character on screen but let's not worry about that !!! Even if they are IMPLIED to be from the ring of envy-a color or ring we haven't seen nor meaningfully conveyed to the audience that it even is possible to go in/exists- it isn't conveyed to the audience well enough besides the visual implication of colors???? Instead of having shitty b-plots that go nowhere via Stolas and Blitz goofing off in seeing stars, Moxxie and Millie getting C-plots for no reason, or loona getting a rabies shot- all of that time could have been exploring hell, going to different rings, focusing on other characters besides the main 5, literally I would prefer a quiet episode like BoJack Horsemans 'Fish out of Water'where we can actually see the personalities of the main characters be appreciated and shown to us but that's never gonna happen :/

What I've been worried about is not even the on screen racism/out of touch 'rap/hip-hop parody' leaves a terrible taste in my mouth, if that isn't enough then the sexualization/implication of an incest type dynamic and nothing else besides fetish bait with these characters constantly grabbing one another and not really acting like siblings moreso someone who has never had siblings attempting to write sibling banter and failing terribly :/

Why do you have a problem with 'Klown Bitch' it's so catchy! Uhm, no??? I feel bad for anyone who attempts to defend helluva/hazbin as good modern musicals let me grit my teeth in silence as to the glorification over white people dominating black culture

HERES A HISTORY OF FEMALE HIPHOP ARTISTS: X

Pictured above is very old concept art about twin characters and its the same hairshape viv kept to transfer over to glitz/glam- despite clearly being over designed and way too much going on Alá vivzie style. It just goes to show she recycles even from herself and not every design is always new hot and fresh :/ AND SPEAKING OF CONCEPT ART-

Also also don't forget salems' concept designs thst got passed even though they loon toony, loony, clown enough, and definitely majorly way easier to have animated besides the mess that is the current design meta ???

Love how you can clearly see the silhouettes being so easily identifiable comparably towards the actual amalgamated mess that is their current limbs attempting to hold onto their toothpick body for their head.

All this screams to me is viv using the artists thst try to come onto helluva and they try their best with what their given, viv only picks the best bits SHE thinks is worth her time rather then thinking about the audience or animating anything else besides overglorified white people rap 🤔

Also the episode literally presents its full internalized misogyny/racism within this episode because vivzie herself literally admitted to typing into script with a full chest that

'Women just ain't funny'

. . .

why present misogyny within the series if you as a creator aren't willing to tackle the subject matter? Why write about it or present it as if you're smart over including the joke in your script when it isn't even funny because it just further pushes women out of the entertainment/comedy business which mind you IS ALREADY VERY WELL MALE DOMINATED SO PUTTING OTHER WOMEN DOWN TO PUT YOURSELF UP ISNT HELPING YOUR CASE VIV???

So then what was the point of adding female clowns if all you were going to do with them was make fun of them out of their expense and then profit off of the fact that they are incest coded????????????

?????????Are we watching the same fucking series????????

[soft--dragon]

Loosen Up

So recently I finished Vox Machina and if you haven't seen I highly recommend it!! SUCH a good show oh my lord. Can't wait for the third season to drop :D

You can view the relationships however you like, I don't mind ^^ (except Vex and Vax, they're siblings, don't be weird :/)

Word Count: 3,138

Warnings: Kinda spoils a plot line in season one but nothing major ^^

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

It isn’t a secret that Percy is a bit of a stick in the mud.

Rarely did he let his walls down and simply be. Too caught up in his world of smoking guns and exploding inventions. A lifetime of heartache shutting his heart away in a cast iron keep that very few had a key to access. This also meant emotions such as joy, love, and contentment were rare to be exposed from behind those defensive gates.

That was before Vox Machina. 

A chaotic, rambunctious group of outcast individuals working with the skills they had to make it through another day. A ragtag family doing its best to survive in a world that would spit at their feet and tell them to fuck off. 

However, this family knew how to tell the world right back to fuck off too. 

Percy honestly couldn’t imagine his life with these people a few years ago, but now he simply could not fathom a reality without them. Tight-knit and stupid and loving, never faulting in their care. It was something Percy told himself to never take for granted, no matter how much they tested his patience. 

Much like tonight, where he was being subjected to the most irritating forces known to man: Vex and Vax when they were on the hunt for entertainment.

Percy is sitting near the fire, sketchbook in hand with rough charcoal drawings of new inventions scattering the pages. Vex and Vax have boxed him in by sitting on either side, peering at his notes and asking such incomprehensibly odd questions Percy wanted to know who the hell tutored these two monsters.

Honestly Vax, why would a pistol need a compartment for snacks? 

It took almost fifteen minutes before Percy's patience gave in and the notebook snapped shut with a dull thud. “Are you two quite finished?” Percy demands, staring at the duo with a narrow gaze. 

Vex grins, raising a hand in surrender. “We’re curious about your new inventions, love. Is there something wrong with that?”

Percy huffs, tucking his book into the folds of his jacket that is laid not too far from the flames, warming up for the night ahead. “Only when you keep badgering me to make a glove that turns whatever it touches into gold.”

“It would be quite helpful, dear.”

“And far out of my current capabilities, I’m not a wizard.”

“Oh, give yourself some credit, Freddy,” Vax grins. “Grow a beard and I’d say you’re plenty wizard-like. With your lifespan, you’ll need a cane before you know it, and it could act as your staff.”

Percy glares at him under half-lidded eyes. “Thank you, Vax’ildan,” he says sarcastically. “Remind me that I will die much sooner than the rest of you, just what I needed to hear tonight.”

Vex snickers, gently bumping his shoulder with her own so those green eyes look at her. “Oh come on, we’re just messing with you, Percival. What’s got you so grumpy this time?”

Percy gave her a mildly incredulous look. “I’m not grumpy.”

“He says while glaring, and with a bitter tone of voice,” Vax murmurs with a grin. 

Percy shoots him a dry look which the male elf only laughs at. “See? That’s exactly what I mean, man!”

Vex’ahlia laughs, dropping her arms over her bent legs and cocking her head to the side. “What is it gonna take to make you loosen up, Percy?”

“A good bottle of wine, some peace and quiet, and a book.”

“We have two silver to our name and a bear,” Vax counters. “Can’t quite match your aristocrat taste, but Trinket tells great stories.”

Trinket, nestled comfortably at the edge of the cave where the other party members are conversing, does not indicate that he knows, nor cares that his owners are talking about him. Percy envied that damn bear, able to go to sleep and easily block out the surrounding sounds. What a dream life. 

“Trinket is busy sleeping,” Percy tells them, “his stories will have to wait.”

Vex isn’t dissuaded by Percy’s bristling attitude, instead leaning more into his personal space just because she can. “Darling,” she says, “We just want to help you relax, is this such a big ask?”

“...Yes.”

“Aeugh, the drama of this man,” Vax chuckles through an exasperated breath, elbowing Percy’s side gently. 

The white-haired human flinches away from the contact with a start, his hand shooting down to rub the area. “Yes, yes, you’ve stated I am a dramatic piece of shit more than once, Vax. I believe your point is made.” 

The twins aren’t listening to Percy’s grumbles. The second he flinched, they’d locked eyes, a conversation played out with expression alone.

Vex narrows her gaze. Hurt?

No. Healed by Pike from the last mission.

Just startled, then? 

Seemed more than that. He knew we were right there.

So what are you thinking? 

Perhaps…

Vex perks a brow at her brother when his expression suddenly brightens in some kind of realization. Her eyes flit over to Percy who was unaware of their silent musings, still resolutely crossing his arms with a scowl that the fire did not deserve to be subjected to. She looks back to her sibling who is grinning now. Vax gives a small flex of his fingers, his eyebrows jumping up and down. Understanding hits Vex and her smile turns evil, nodding minutely. They wink at each other, the excitement for a game making them giddy though they contained it. Couldn’t let Percy catch on too early after all. 

“Percy~” Vex coos in her sultry voice, not missing the slight twitch in his face from her tone. The sight makes her all the more eager to extract the plan she and her brother had silently communicated. She lifts her fingernails to her eyes to examine them. “You sure we can’t convince you to loosen up at least a little?”

There was a scoff. “I’d like to see you try,” Percy muttered.

Oh excellent, an invitation. 

“Well, if the man insists, Stubby, who are we to ignore him?” Vax leaps for the opportunity with a grin that’s all charm and Cheshire-like. 

“I agree,” Vex smirks. “Shall we?”

Simultaneously, the two half-elves grab one of Percy’s wrists each and fling him onto his back, his arms being pinned by his head. A startled yelp leaps out of the human, the sudden gravity shift leaving him to stare up at the pair of matching grins. He tugs at his arms. They won’t budge. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Percy asks, bewildered and slightly on edge. 

“You said we could try and loosen you up,” Vex answers.

“By wrestling me to the dirt and pinning me down?” 

“Oh no, we just had to get you in a better position, dear heart,” Vax smirks.

“A better pos- for what?” 

The bemused and exasperated question only delights his captors further, and this is where Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third realizes a very fatal error. He had been encouraging the chaotic force that was the Elf Twins. He'd practically been asking for trouble. This realization only sinks in further when Vax’s free hand comes down to rest on Percy’s clothed stomach.

“Percy, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish would you?” 

Oh.

Oh gods, no.

Memories spring to Percy’s mind of laughing himself hoarse while dogpiled under his siblings from the silly battles. The sensations scuttling everywhere, unstoppable and unbearable. His realization shows up in his face in the form of a pink flush and the beginnings of a wobbly grin that he desperately tries to keep under control.

“Oh, I see a smile trying to come out there!” Vex leers keenly, lowering her own hands to wiggle her fingers close to Percy’s side, delighting in his immediate response to wriggle away despite his efforts to seem indifferent to his dilemma. 

“V-Vex, this is ludicrous-” Percy splutters, his grin becoming wider by the second, his resolution foiled from years of inexperience in this game. 

“So you are ticklish, then?” Vax questions, his fingers gently pressing from where they are resting atop Percy’s lean stomach. 

The flinch and sharp intake of breath was answering enough. Percy’s ears were starting to burn from the attention, torn between wanting to wrench away and escape this playful teasing, or staying and trying to muscle through in a show of defiance. 

“I’m- it’s been a very long time since someone has tried,” Percy answers stiffly. 

The way the twins lit up made him cringe back, instantly knowing that was the worst thing he could’ve said.

“Well now we have to tickle you,” Vex exclaims like her word is law. Though, with her role in the group, it may as well be. 

Percy is most definitely blushing now. It was honestly adorable. “N-No you don’t!” He protests, his boots now shuffling into the dirt in hopes of dislodging his sudden capture. “I’m not even tihicklish!” Damn it.

“Was that a laugh?” Vax coos, delighting in a sound so rare from Percy who barely even grins on a good day. Percy is doing his best to try and become an ostrich with how far he’s turning his flushed face into the ground, stumbling refusals not quite managing to leave his lips coherently. 

“Why my dear brother, I think it was,” Vex chuckles. ‘Shall we see what else we can pull from our resident sour puss?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Electricity crackles through Percy’s sides and stomach in a split second, a strangled sound being pulled from a forgotten section of his vocal cords. His whole body instantly jack-knifes, legs trying to pull to his stomach to protect the sensitive areas suddenly under attack. Stubbornness makes him clamp his lips shut and bite his tongue, not wanting to give the twins the satisfaction of hearing him laugh again. He refused.

“Hmm, seems we’ve got a stubborn one in our hands, Vex,” tuts Vax, his fingers probing up and down Percy’s ribcage, noting every flinch and muffled grunt let out by the human. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’ll crack eventually.” Her eyes meet Percy’s and her smile makes his stomach twist in anticipation. She winks. “They all do.”

Her hand starts to slink down to his hip bones and- Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna happen, he’d rather get possessed by a demon again. Percy’s struggling kicks up, trying to find momentum with his legs to dislodge the grip pinning his wrists to the cave floor, still fighting not to crack as Vax’s fingers deftly squeeze his sides. He almost manages to heave himself to sit up, but a well-placed scratch at his lower back sends him crashing back down. His legs fly up to his stomach again, desperate to protect some part of his sensitive body while his chest shakes with restrained laughter. 

“Uh uh, not yet mister, we’re not done with you until you laugh~” says Vex, her hand dropping to lightly scuttle behind Percy’s knee that was right beside her.

Percy yelps, immediately kicking his legs back out, and scrunches into himself in a fast motion. The reaction made the twins pause, and he knew he was royally screwed. 

“Interesting, he might be like you. I think the gentler stuff works better on him,” Vex says to her brother, her hand dropping to Percy’s hips once more and scuttling her nails featherlight across the man’s skin.

“NoHAHaha!” Percy protests, his yelp swimming between stolen laughter that tries vainly to escape his throat, his head being tossed back against the floor as his body tries to do an emergency lockdown on his vocal cords. 

“Brilliant, sister,” Vax chuckles, and before Percy can prepare himself, he spiders his claws up along Percy’s stretched torso with a softened touch.  

Immediately, Percy sputters, and the dam finally cracks. “S-Shihihihit! Vehehex! Vahahax! Ohoho gohohod!” Percy gasps out through fits of boyish laughter, a sound so out of character for the gunslinger that it takes the twins aback in surprise.

His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, standing out against his pale complexion and white hair. A wide, mirthful smile cracked out against his brooding face, nose scrunching in a way that couldn’t be described as anything but endearing. His body didn’t know whether to fight or fold, the long-forgotten instinct of childhood leaving him withering and laughing from the soft fingertips spidering along sensitive skin.

“Well, how about that,” Vax murmured, something gentle in his voice despite the mean wiggling of his nails on a particularly sensitive rib. “He can laugh.”

“Oh much more than that, dear brother,” Vex smiled fondly. “He isn’t grumpy now.”

Experimentally, her fingers swirl up Percy’s unprotected ribs to dance gently under his arm to see if it would have much effect. Oh, and it does. Percy practically squeals. High-pitched and panicked and childlike, his struggles for his pinned arms make a reappearance as the sensitive hollows are attacked by softly brushing nails. 

“Nononononohohoho VEHEehehex!” He pleads, scuffing the heels of his shoes into the floor in a half-baked bid for relief. “Fuhuhucks sahahake!” 

“That is utterly adorable,” Vax laughs, his own hand coming up to stroke deftly down Percy’s arm from wrist to armpit in a maddening pattern of soft touch. The strokes only elicit more half-bitten squeals and squeaks of protest, most noises swallowed up or blended into Percy’s laughter.

He knew he should feel embarrassed, his pride shattered into pieces from a few measly fingers and well-picked words to crack his defenses, but Percy couldn’t recall a time he’d last been in the middle of a play fight such as this. The sensations are foreign but not forgotten, too much and yet not enough at the same time. It was a conflicting state of escape or endure.

However, when Vax slipped a hand under his buttoned shirt to ghost gentle nails on his bare lower back, he was pretty sure his body got struck by lightning. 

“VAHAHAX! OHOHOhoho mihihy gohohod plehehehease! P-PLEHEhehehease!”” 

Vex and Vax pause in their movements and watch with awed amusement as Percy laughs himself mad from the briefest touch to his back, his full-bodied laughter quickly melting down into rich, honey-sweet giggles that shake his entire body. It didn’t seem real, that a sound so adorably childish could come from Percy’s mouth, and yet here he was, half curled on the ground, giggling up a storm. 

Vex and Vax share a fond, endeared smile and let go of Percy’s wrists, leaning away so he could have space to collect himself. The human wheezes through his tumbling giggles, his arms shifting to wrap around his middle as he slowly calms down. His eyes, which had been tightly closed, flutter open to show mirthful tears at the edges.

“F-Fuhucking hehehell,” he gasps, “I thohought I wahas gohohing to dihie.”

“Oh relax, we like you too much to kill you,” Vex snickers, offering her hand to Percy. She has to hold back a snort when he flinches mildly at her fingers, eyeing them distrustfully. “We’re done,” she promises.

After a suspicious look, Percy grasps her hand and allows her to tug him into a sitting position. One of his arms is still wrapped protectively around his stomach, his hand reaching far enough to rub that damn spot Vax had tickled for three seconds which caused him to fall apart. 

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Percy rasps, taking off his glasses to rub the tears in his eyes away.

Vax leans over to his supplies to snatch up his water skin, offering it to Percy who took it gratefully. “So,” Vax starts, watching Percy drink water like he hadn’t had it in years. “Soft touch and bad back, huh?”

Percy almost chokes. With a rough swallow, he recorks the water skin and clears his throat, stubbornly not looking at either of the twins. “Like I said, it’s been a long time. I didn’t think I still even was… well, you know.”

“What? Ticklish?’

Vex’s gentle tease makes Percy’s face burn for what felt like the millionth time that evening. He shoves his glasses back on his face despite the heat in his cheeks making them fog up mildly. The reaction makes the twins chuckle.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Percy dear,” Vex soothes, an arm wrapping around his shoulders and rubbing gently at the nape of his neck - tension knotting the area from hours of leaning over a workbench while inventing. Percy winced at the attention, both from the anticipation of another attack and the ache of his tense muscles. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Percy grumbles without much heat, sounding like a petulant kid. “My siblings always ganged up on me because of it.”

“You have a nice laugh, I can see why they would,” Vax hums, tucking his water skin back into his nearby cloak.

The surprised look on Percy’s face almost made Vex tackle him back to the floor and tickle him again just so he could hear how precious his laugh was. She held herself back though, he’d had enough for tonight anyway. He hadn’t been tickled in years, he’d need to be introduced back to the game slowly. Tonight was an excellent first lesson. 

“So, Percy’s ticklish then?”

The sudden voice made the trio jump and look up to the other side of the cave where the rest of Vox Machina were watching them with grins. Scanlan, who’d asked the question, chuckled at the human’s sudden flush. “Yeah no, we saw the whole thing, de Rolo. Don’t expect this to be the last time, that was cute as fuck.”

Grog chuckled deeply. “Very cute,” he agreed in that rumbling voice of his. Pike, who was sat atop his shoulder nodded enthusiastically in agreement. 

“Had no idea you could laugh like that, Perce,” she chirped, glancing at Keyleth who giggled softly. 

“It was quite sweet,” the Air Ashari tacked on.

Percy stared at the group of people he called family, his eyelid twitching slightly and cheeks flushed a rosy pink. His gloved hands come up to press over his face, knocking his head into his bent knees, wishing the floor would just cave in and murder him quickly. 

“Aww, I think we’re embarrassing him,” Vax cooed, his hand resting atop Percy’s head and gently ruffling his hair in a brotherly fashion. “It’s alright, Giggles, you know we do it out of love.”

“F’ck off and die,” came the muffled grumble buried into Percy’s hands.

The twins cackled, pleased that they not only thoroughly shattered Percy’s indifferent demeanor, but got him flustered beyond repair from simple, playful affection and loving words. They were gonna have fun with this new information. It was their right as a family to carry on the de Rolo tradition of making Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third laugh, they wouldn’t let Percy’s late siblings down on that front.

[dira333]

To be loved is to be changed - Kisame x Reader

Words 4,9k

Angst and Fluff, Canontypical Violence and Death mentioned - requested by @snuggleboots for the Follower Celebration

Soul Mates

Two people bonded over time and distance, who are able to communicate via thoughts. Unlike the Yamanaka Family Jutsu, sight or Chakra usage is not needed. It has been reported that the two parts of the bond do not have to know each other before activating the bond.

The first ever documented case was reported in Yugakure. The subjects noted that they could only hear the voice of their partner the moment one of them turned eighteen. 

Ever since then it has been hard to find test subjects since the existence of a bond can only be proven after they’ve turned eighteen.

Soul Bonds are not a genetic inheritance, since their existence is not inherited, as the Hyuuga-Study proved. They can also not be transferred, as a study from Iwagakure proved.

It has proven wise, however, to eliminate bonds between different Nations since the bond can be used to transfer state secrets, willingly or unwillingly. 

Most female bond partners die shortly after the male bond partner has been eliminated, as an extensive Study from Konohagakure, Orochimaru, showed.

-

It had been business as usual.

A Shinobi life did not offer much chance for celebration. A birthday is nothing more than a way to calculate age. Kisame knew people who celebrated every day they survived, but he’d never been one for celebration. He certainly didn’t learn it from his parents.

His shoes are filled with liquid and he doesn’t bother to check if it is blood or water. It had been raining all day, making the mission harder for his opponents and a hella lot more fun for him.

But he’s hungry, and cold, and he could use a bed instead of the damp ground.

He’s still pretty far from Kirigakure, but he remembers a small village he had come by a few days earlier and directs his feet toward the approximate location.

Soaring through the air, the rain pelting his face, he wonders what time it is. Not that it matters, but he was born around four p.m., something his father liked to remind him of because his mother had missed making lunch because of his birth.

A branch snaps under his foot and he topples through the air, cursing loudly as he manages to land on a different tree. A shiver runs down his back but before he can think too much about it, he can hear a voice, sweet and distinctly female.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” He turns around, and squints through the rain. He’s pretty sure he’s alone.

“Are you a Yamanaka? I heard about your Jutsu!”

“What the hell is a Yamanaka? Where are you? Show yourself?”

“I’m in the middle of the street, how can you not see me? You’re the one who started cursing at me!”

“What the- I wasn’t cursing!”

“Oh, of course you were! I’ve never heard such foulmouthery before! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” The voice is sweet and young, but the choice of words is a bit old-fashioned for his taste.

“My mother is dead.” He waits, can’t help the smug grin when the voice falters in its reprimand.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! When did it happen? And how? Are you okay?”

“Easy there, just tell me where you’re hiding and we’re going to get this over with.”

“Again, I am not hiding. But since you’re so blind, obviously, I am going to walk across the street and into the bakery. Can you see me? Can I see you?”

“What bakery?” Kisame’s pretty sure he’s still a long way off any bakeries.

“The main one, you know. Yamamoto’s golden bread, right at the main road.”

“What village?”

“What village? Are you kidding me? What village could I be talking about?”

Something heavy, most likely the truth, settles in Kisame’s gut. His feet suddenly feel a lot less sturdy and he lowers himself until he’s sitting securely on the thick branch.

“What time is it?”

“It’s a bit after four p.m. why? Are you okay?”

“Have you ever heard about soulmates?”

There’s Silence and it’s shocking how unwelcome it is all of a sudden. He hadn’t known a different voice in his head before, but its absence feels so utterly unwelcome now.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I’m just… Are you saying you’re my soulmate?”

“I guess so.”

“That means you just turned eighteen.”

“Guess so.”

“Oh, don’t give me that, you know how old you are, right?”

He laughs, can’t help it. You’re a whole other thing when you’re being sassy with him.

“What does it matter? It was nice meeting you. I will make sure not to bother you again.”

“Wait! WAIT!”

“What?” He blinks into the rain. This, this whole Soulmate thing, is just a big fat joke. Fate hates him, and always has. A Shinobi can hardly hold up a relationship as it is, no less a happy one. A Soulmate Relationship? Where your partner's life is bound to yours to the point that you cannot survive without your other half? That’s just cruel.

“What’s your favorite cake flavor?”

“What?”

“Cake. What kind do you like most.”

“I don’t know. We don’t have much cake here. What’s yours?”

“I like Chocolate Cake. Would it be okay if I got one? For you? For today.”

“You can do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

-

He keeps the promise he gave himself.

He does not bother you. Well, at least he will as soon as he figures out how not to talk to you. 

You, however, have no qualms in talking to him.

“Today I got plums. I love plums. I’m going to make a Plum Pudding for my Grandmother, and some jam for my neighbors and if there’s something left over, I’ll make a cake with it. Do you like Plums? What’s your name anyway? Is it Ume? Like Plum? Or do you have purple hair?”

He’s pretty sure you’re not Shinobi. A Shinobi would not act so casually with a Soulmate bond. They are trained to be cautious about any attempt of espionage but you don’t seem to care that you blabber out too much that he should not know.

You’re from Konohagakure, it seems. Your parents died young and you’re raised by your grandmother, hence the old-fashioned way of talking. You like to bake and cook and play good housewife, but sometimes, when you pass a Shinobi on the street, you wonder how their life is. If you could be good at something that is dangerous. Something your grandmother carefully keeps you shielded from.

Your voice is as sweet as the jam you keep blabbering about. 

He wonders, not for the first time, how you look like. Are you as plump as the women of Yura? Thin and elegant like the people in Ishi? Maybe you like to put on colorful makeup and dance around in wild clothing like the people of Kimmun? 

Whatever you look like, he cannot imagine your body next to his, your life entwined with the one he leads.

Kirigakure has gotten scarier and he’s growing fed up with orders that make no sense, superiors who are more corrupt than the criminals he’s paid to bring in.

***

On your eighteenth birthday, you see the sun rise over an ocean. It’s a breathtaking view and you enjoy it from the safety of your bedroom, the windows facing the forest.

You’re not sure if your soulmate is a quiet man or simply has the self-discipline of a god. 

He rarely ever answers your questions, lets nothing slip beside a lot of curse words. But his dreams are vivid and wether he does it willingly or without his knowledge, he shares them with you.

You know they have to be his dreams. You’ve never traveled further than the next Village outside of Konoha. But you dream of lush landscapes, of mountains that pierce the sky, of the sea stretching further than your eyes can reach, of a village hidden in the mist.

He must be from Kirigakure. And while he kept quiet, you’ve read everything about Soulmates you could get your hands on. Most Hidden Villages demand of their population to come forward as soon as their Bond is forged. And while you’ve not heard of a execution in years, you don’t want to know what would happen to you if it got known that your Soulmate is from Kirigakure.

And a Shinobi too.

Some nights his dreams are gruesome and you wake up crying, your mind filled with pictures of dead comrades, of heavy rain that washes away the blood.

He never answers after that and you wonder what he feels about your bond. Is it guilt or would he rather have someone else?

But everytime you tell yourself to give this up, to stop your stories, to let his silence be silence, the wall he’s put up crumbles.

Like today. When he thinks of the ocean and allows you to see it too.

-

“I got a Kunai.” You tell him, the weapon heavy in your satchel. “Will you tell me how to use it?”

“Why do you need to know?” It’s been days since you’ve last spoke. You’re a little surprised that he’s answering.

“I want to be able to defend myself.”

“You’ll do more harm than good with a Kunai.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

“I’d never.” There’s sincerity in his voice. Exhaustion too.

“Bad timing?”

“Hide that Kunai away. Don’t use it until I tell you how. First you need to learn how to use your Chakra.”

“Should we do that later? You probably want to rest.”

“It’s okay.” You wonder what he’s doing right now. Does he sit down to focus on you or is he on the move? You think of him, a voice without a body, tucked into a bed and feel his amusement.

“That is new.” You comment. “I could feel your feelings.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” You interrupt him. “I want to know you.”

“I don’t want you to know me.”

“Oh…” He must feel it too, the pang of disappointment going through you, because he rushes to apologize.

“It’s better for you. Safer. I’m sorry you’re bound to me. I know if I die, you’ll most likely die too, but I don’t have to drag you down. As long as I am alive, somewhere far away from you, you can lead a happy, easy life.”

“Do you think I could love another men with your voice in my head?”

Silence. No matter how much you call, he does not answer.

-

Two weeks after your eighteenth birthday a pair of Shinobi knocks on your grandmothers door. 

You’re in the kitchen stirring a pot of compote, but your grandmothers quivering voice pulls you away from the stove. She sounds scared.

“Sit down,” you tell her, her frail shoulders shaking under your hands as you lead her to the kitchen table. “I will handle this.”

“But-”

“It’s all good, obaa-chan. The Shinobi work to help us. Drink some water, it’s all good.”

You return to the door, the woman already inside your house.

“I’m sorry, her health isn’t the best. How can we help you?”

“It’s just a checkup.” The woman smiles but it’s not a friendly smile. “You turned eighteen recently and you got quite a few books from the library, yet you never came to the office to register your soulmate.”

“Oh, of course.” You nod, for the first time glad that your Soulmate is so keen on keeping quiet. “I understand. Sadly I do not have a soulmate. I was hoping I would have one, since my parents were Soulmates, but the books were right. It cannot be inherited.”

“I’m afraid we cannot go by your word alone.”

“I understand.” You nod again. “What do you require me to do?”

The two of them stare you down and you blink up at them innocently. You might not be a Shinobi or have any talents beyond following recipes, but you certainly know how to lie.

“That will suffice.” The man nods curtly. “Sorry about the bother.”

“Oh, of course. Do you want to stay for some tea? I am just making a new batch of cake if you want to stay or come back later for a slice.”

“We cannot stay.”

“I understand. But please don’t hesitate to come back later. It was always important to our family to feed the Shinobi.”

“Why?” The woman puts her hand on her partners arm, halts him in his movements as she stares you down. You wonder what she’s thinking. She’s clearly not trusting you.

“We are only able to live in safety because of the Shinobi’s work. My mother was too sickly to work as a Shinobi and my father was a tradesperson and they instructed me to always be thankful for the hard work of the Shinobi. I wouldn’t dare to disappoint them.” You bow.

“I always wanted… to train too. But I do not have any talent, it seems.” You look at the floor in a show of shame and that seems to pacify them for good.

“There is no cake needed.” They agree quietly. “But thank you for the offer.”

The door closes behind them, but you don’t trust it to keep you safe. You heard of Shinobi who can see through walls, so you don’t dare to exhale in relief and instead keep yourself as busy as you would normally, tell your grandmother in a cheerful tone all about the conversation.

“Oh, I am so sorry that you do not have a Soulmate.” She clutches her chest as she speaks. “It was so lovely for your mother to find your father.”

“Like I’d ever leave you.” You tell her and she pulls you down to kiss your temple before leaving for another nap. She’s been tired a lot these last weeks.

***

“I want to see you.” Kisame shudders at your words. But no, it’s not the words but your longing. He can feel it so intensely, that he’s no longer sure if it’s yours or his.

Life has gotten lonely as a Missing-Nin, his Hitai-Ate no longer a thing he wears with pride.

He’s been building a home, telling himself that it’s meant just to house him and no one else, but his body betrays his mind when he builds it large enough to house a family. 

Yet, how can he tell you about it? How can he take you from Konoha, the safe village you grew up in, the arms of your grandmother, to a house on the shore with no neighbors 

“It’s not safe.” He tries to answer, but you’ve gotten better at getting him to answer.

“I’ve gotten better. I can already walk on water! I barely miss any more when I throw a Kunai. Please, I just want to see you!”

He doesn’t say no, cannot bring himself to accept the reality so how could he convince you?

But he dreams of you, of all the bits and pieces he’s gotten to know in the last five years. 

-

“I’m going to be in Kimmun next month.” You tell him a few days later, resolve audible in your thoughts. “It’s at the edge of the border. I’m going to be there for at least two days and there are plenty of hostels that won’t look too closely at either of us if we pay good money for a room.”

Anxiety closes up his throat. Kisame knows those hostels well enough, has killed in more than one of them.

“You will not go near them, do you understand me? I’ve got my ways, I can get into any room you could stay in.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Okay.” You give in easy. Too easy. He realizes why a few days later when you pick the topic back up, intent on making sure he knows exactly how much you want to see him.

He should feel flattered and he would, maybe, if not for the forbidden Jutsu that he took with him when he left Kirigakure. The Jutsu that transformed his body in more ways than one. 

No matter how sweet you are, no matter how much you’re supposed to be suited for him, can he really expect you to be fine with that?

-

Kimmun is lovely at this time of the year. The streets are bustling with people to the point hardly anyone takes notice of him.

It’s an important time for a merchant like you when everyone’s offering and you have to have a good eye and a quick mind to gather the best of the best.

Kisame spots you easily. You’re like a Sakura Tree in a field of wildflowers, all the colors in the world doing nothing but emphasizing your beauty.

You work alone and he wonders when you started, how you convinced your grandmother to let you. You don’t seem a novice anymore, he can see it in the way your eyes seem to catch everything, how you won’t let even the most charming seller convince you to buy something you don’t want.

He follows you up to the Hotel you’re staying in, not too cheap but not too fancy either. As the day turns into night he can see you at the window, looking out into the darkness. You’re obviously waiting for him and he wonders when he turned this way, when the fearsome warrior became a man following the mere wishes of a woman.

But you’re different, aren’t you? You were picked to be with him or maybe he was picked to be with you, either way, it’s a cruel choice for either of you. 

It’s best to get this all over with, so he moves even when he dreads it. He didn’t get out of Kirigakure because he was too shy, or unwilling to get uncomfortable.

…

“Close your eyes.” Your back is turned to the window - a grave mistake he will have to make you unlearn. But no, he will not, because this will end here.

“You’re here.” You say, and your voice is filled with too much delight. It makes him feel sick.

“Whatever.” He mutters before he can say “Of Course.” 

“Can I look?” You ask, hands over your eyes as you move from one foot to the other.

He puts Samehada down, closes the window behind him, and draws the curtain closed. Anxiety pools cooly in his stomach but he nods first and confirms loudly second.

His eyes are on you, can’t look away no matter how much he wants to. He doesn’t miss one second of your reaction. He waits for the disappointment, for the giddiness to flake at the edges. But you curl your hands into fists in front of you and look up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars. 

“What are you looking at?” He asks, his voice a bit too harsh. You’re too delicate to be treated this way, no matter his feelings.

“Can I hug you?”

…

When he wakes up from a nap he didn’t mean to take, your head rests on his chest and his water clone looks over with envy written over his face.

“Get one yourself,” he tells his clone, which is childish, but there’s no one to witness it but himself.

You’re a warm weight, your presence enough to convince him to stay in bed. No one’s been following him, he tells himself, he can enjoy this short time with you.

And even though he knows that he shouldn’t, that he should get as far away from you as possible, for his sake as much as yours, he finds himself bound to you through more ways than one. There’s the look in your eyes when you wake up, or the way you hold onto his hand when he pulls away - just to brush his teeth, okay - or how you insist on getting breakfast in bed and lean in to kiss jam from the corner of his mouth.

By the time another evening rolls around he’s lost sight of who’s the dangerous one of the two of you. You know what you want - him - and he’s never been able to say no to you, it seems. Not when Kisame wants you just as much, not when he’s never gotten anything that belonged to him and only him, before. 

He wants to take you home, to the almost-finished house at the shore. 

For you, he’d become a merchant or a stay-at-home Dad. 

He tells you, whispers it into each kiss until he’s sure you know, repeats it in the realm that houses just the two of you, and tells you over and over again even as you sleep to the point that he knows you dream of him too.

And Kisame’s convinced, he knows it must be, that he will not leave this town without you…

Until one of his Clones goes down, alerting him of the imminent danger.

He needs to leave, right now, when the morning is not even a thought yet in the minds of this city, when your head rests easy right over his heart.

Kisame needs to leave you behind, because there are at least three high class Nin looking for him and if he cannot lead them away from the city, divert their attention with a fight, they will keep looking and they will find you. 

He might not want to leave, but he will if it’s the one thing that keeps you safe.

So he does.

***

The bed feels empty when you wake up. His sword is gone from where it leaned against the window sill. Your mind is empty too and there’s no note left out for you to find. When you call out his name, out loud and in your head, you don’t get an answer. 

You want to wait, tie yourself to your bed until he shows up again, until he at least answers your questions in your head, but you’ve came here with a group of other merchants - for safety reasons - and you’re expected to leave today, having only a few hours to spare. 

So you make yourself go through the motions, wash the memories off your body as best as you can and leave Kimmun so unlike you’ve entered it.

Gone is the hope and anticipation. With every hour spent without his voice in your mind you feel surer of his decision. 

To you it might have been a beginning. To him it was an end.

-

One week after your return your grandmother has to be hospitalized.

You hold her hand as she fights for breathe after breathe, as her heart stutters to a stop. 

You don’t cry when her body burns, when all that’s left of her is ash and bone shards, happy memories and the ghost of her kiss, the feeling of her lips pressed to your temple or her hands folded around yours as she teaches you.

You return to your now empty house, wondering when you turned this resilient, this cold.

They say that to be loved is to be changed, but in your case it has to be different. Loving Kisame has changed you. You wonder if you changed him too, even just a little.

-

Work consumes you. 

There’s no time to bake, no time to make jams. 

You don’t dare stop to taste the plums, fearing it will unravel you at the seams.

They say one woman can’t manage a whole business alone, so you smile and nod and ask for their assistance, collect their money and open another shop in Kimmun, because why not? 

You keep yourself busy until you search for a painkiller and find your tampons, unopened, unused in, what… a month? Two?

That’s when you break, because what are you supposed to do?

You’re unmarried, have no relationship to name and your business is riding on your good reputation.

It’s on the bathroom floor, hugging your knees like a little girl, that you call out to Kisame for the first time in weeks, call upon his name like he’s God and you’re the sinner.

-

His response is the view of moldy ceiling, the wooden boards covered with black spots.

“What?!” Even your inner voice breaks with confusion.

Memories flood your mind after that. 

Running from Kimmun, someone following closely. A fight. Blood, so much blood.

Intense pain shoots through your left leg. A nameless nurse taking care of you.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“I’m hiding.” He says. “I’m not even sure this place has a name.”

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“I couldn’t. I had to focus on the fight and by the time I could answer you’d gone silent.”

“So? You could have called out to me first.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere. Not for the first time you curse your connection. You can tell that he means it.

“What happened?” He asks.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence follows, but it is not empty. You can feel his doubts wage war on him.

“Is it mine?” He asks, voice quiet, almost subdued.

“Of course it is yours!”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Take me with you. Please! I am all alone here and we could live together, right? I don’t care where we’d be, just let us be together, anywhere is fine.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I care.”

“If you die, I die. It will always be dangerous.”

“Let me think about it. I want to, I do, but we need to be smart about this.”

“I love you.”

He does not say it back. But you can see what he sees, your head resting on his chest back in Kimmun, your hands joined together. And that is just as good as hearing those three words.

***

Your growing belly is hidden beneath a wide skirt.

You have not complained once since the two of you left Kimmun in the early morning hours.

It will take months for those back in Konoha to learn that you sold your shares in Kimmun too, just like you did with all of your belongings in Konoha. By then it will be impossible to find a trace of you, to hear even a faint whisper of what happened with the lone young girl coming from the village.

The scars on his leg have healed up. Kisame feels no pain as he lifts you up and carries you over the threshold like one does with their new wife, the future mother of their children. Like his father should have done with his mother. Like your father has done with your mother.

He’s twenty-four, a criminal by the laws of Kirigakure, and a Soulmate by the laws of nature. He’s a husband, a homeowner and in a few months, he’s going to be a father too.

Your savings will keep you two afloat for quite some time and there’s a small village a few hours by foot, that will sell them whatever they could need.

He’s not yet convinced that this can last, that you can be happy in a place as lonely as this, that he can keep you safe, but he wants to try.

-

Mikio is six when he takes up the black coat with the red clouds. 

He doesn’t do it for the money and not for the name.

But the twins just turned three and you’re pregnant again, yet there have been Kiri-Nin asking for him in the village and he knows he cannot run forever.

Pain’s way might not be the nicest, but he promises peace. 

Is there anything he wouldn’t do to make sure you’ll be safe?

“Say goodbye to Papa.” You call out to Mikio who’s drying shells in the sun. The twins are running cirlces around him, probably thinking he’ll be back tomorrow from another trip to the neighbouring village. They don’t know yet about the meaning of missions, or how long three months really are.

But Mikio comes after you. He’s got a nose for things he shouldn’t know about.

“I don’t want you to go.” He says when Kisame steps closer. 

“I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t go.”

“‘s not as easy as that.”

Mikio looks away again.

“Listen.” Kisame kneels down beside him, aware how much he’s growing. He’s coming after him with his height. “I’m not going to tell you to look after Ma. That’s not your job. You’re a kid. I have to leave so that you can stay a kid until you grow up. That’s not easy, but I’m doing it for you.”

“Okay.”

“Can I have a hug goodbye?”

Mikio ponders it for a second before crawling into his lap. He’s much too big for that now, growing too heavy for it too, but there had never been a chance for this when Kisame had been a kid, so why should he deny his son something he’d never knew he could have for himself?

-

When he leaves, he takes your voice with you.

It follows him wherever he goes.

Kisame knows when you’re safe, he knows when you’re in trouble. 

Sometimes it’s the only thing keeping him sane.

To be loved is to be changed, you’d told him once when he’d complained about how his life had hardened you.

Kisame wonders how he’d have turned out without you.

He finds he doesn’t want to know.

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 8

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka, (barely a mention of) Josh Kiszka x Male O.C.

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count:  2.5k

Warnings: smoking a cigarette, use of the f slur against Danny (in the past)

--------------------------------------------------------

July 16th, 2:06 AM

“Psst.” Half-asleep, Danny doesn’t respond. That is until Sam sends a swift kick to his shin, effectively waking him up as he rubs his leg in annoyance.

“The fuck was that for?” He hisses back, considering kicking him as payback.

“You wanna smoke? I brought cigarettes.”

“Well since you’ve woken me up, yes.”

“Amazing.” He sees the dark outline of Sam wiggle out of his sleeping bag, fumbling for his things in the dark before unzipping the tent quietly. Danny follows him, seeing why he was trying to make as little noise as possible as Sam points at the twin’s tent, bringing his finger to his mouth in a shushing motion as he tiptoes past it. He leads him through the woods in the dark, his hand automatically reaching behind him to find Danny’s so as to not lose him at each turn he took.

They finally come to a stop on a small rocky outcropping of the mountain, the trees sparse around them allowing them to look up at the stars above them. “Wow.” Danny comments half to himself, his jaw dropped in wonder. “I forget how many stars there are without the city lights. The sky’s never this clear.”

“I bet.” Sam snorts as he pulls a cigarette out, lighting it and taking a drag before passing it over to Danny. “When was the last time you saw the night sky like this?”

“The night before I left, with you.” His answer comes before he can think about it, a sour taste coming to his mouth at the reminder that he quickly remedies by taking a drag. Change the subject. “So, why’d you ask me to come smoke with you without the twins?”

“’Cause they’re little cigarette gremlins. Snatched half my pack the last time they visited. Jake’s not supposed to smoke anymore but he always insists on a drunk cigarette. Says it doesn’t count.”

Danny snorts, remembering how Austin made Josh switch to vapes as he couldn’t stand the smell of cigarettes. “Right, right.”

“So, New York. You like it there?”

Danny takes another drag as Sam passes the cigarette back to him, trying not to focus on why they were sharing one instead of him lighting two. “It’s loud, it’s dirty, I’ve almost gotten mugged a few times, and trying to drive anywhere is impossible. But, yes, I am. It’s home now. Josh is a great roommate and I like NYU, couldn’t ask for anything else.” But you could. You want to. You’ve wanted something more for as long as you can remember.

“That’s great, I’m happy for you.” Sam pauses, hoping his change in subject wouldn’t be too noticeable or out of place. “You mention Josh and Austin a lot but is there anyone else in New York with you? Any other friends or… girlfriends?”

“God, you sound just like my mom.” Why does he care? Why did he say it… like that? “No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. We���re catching up, this is the shit people talk about when they catch up.” Sam shrugs, tearing his gaze away from Danny’s moonlit figure to flick the ash off the tip of the cigarette. “None of the girls there your type or what?”

“I don’t like girls, Sam.” Danny’s answer is short, rushed as if he wanted to spit it out and be done with the conversation, worry brewing in the pit of his stomach at Sam’s reaction.

“Oh- none of the guys there your type, then?”

Danny blinks back at him, surprised at how casually he had taken the information. “Uh, no, more like just haven’t met the right person yet.” I have, he’s just not in New York. Danny clears his throat, trying to rip his mind away from Sam. “Thanks for uh, being so chill by the way. Not freaking out and everything.”

“Danny, I don’t care that you’re gay. I’ve known for years. I’d be a hypocrite if I had an issue with it.”

“Wait, are you- are you gay too?” So, his reaction to me kissing him wasn’t because he’s not into men, just because he’s not into me. Great.

“Bi technically, but yes, I like men too. Although the Frankenmuth queer dating pool is pretty shit.”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone right now, then? Or do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” Sam pops the “p” before looking back at Danny. “Single as can be right now. Haven’t dated anyone seriously since high school.”

Danny’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, remembering the last person he dated. “Beatrice? Seriously? That’s your last relationship?”

Sam brings his hand to his forehead absentmindedly, the end of the cigarette burning dangerously close to his hair. “Please, please don’t remind me. She was fucking crazy.”

“Oh? What happened with that? You just told me that you broke up, not why.”

“She called you a faggot. Didn’t like how much time I spent with you.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah. That wasn’t all though. She was too obsessive over our relationship, like to an unhealthy point. Cut all her friends off that she’d had since middle school to ‘focus on our relationship’. Ended up cheating on me in the end though.”

“Oh shit- I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“Na, don’t be. Getting out of that relationship was the best thing I’ve ever done. I’d take being single for years over still being with her.”

“So why haven’t you dated anyone since? Frankenmuth girls and guys not your type?” Danny shoots the comment back at him, offering a small smile.

“That’s not it. I don’t know, maybe I’m not made for relationships.”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam looks down at the rock below him, tracing the lines and cracks with his finger. “It never ends well. They always get hurt, even Beatrice, she was devastated when I broke up with her even though she was the issue. Maybe loving me is dangerous, I don’t know. I think I’m just bad luck.”

“You’re not bad luck, I’m sure you’ll find someone, Sammy.” Danny reaches out to place his hand on his shoulder, offering a light squeeze. “Just maybe not in Frankenmuth.”

“God, I thought you had dropped the trying to get me to come to New York with you.” His voice is laced with annoyance as he shakes his head, focusing on the sky above them.

“I don’t mean New York. Just anywhere but here. Don’t you want to get out, Sam?” Danny swears he can see the moonlight reflecting off tears in his eyes as he shakes his head, dropping it to face the ground, hiding his expression in the shadows.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too late, Danny. I didn’t leave when I was 18 and now I’m stuck here.”

“You’re 21!” Danny stops himself as he hears his voice raise, not wanting to snap back at Sam over his frustration. “You’re only 21, you can still get out. It’s never too late.”

“Why do you want me to leave Frankenmuth, huh? Why do you want me to leave so bad?” His tone is sharp as he looks back at Danny, anger beginning to flash across his face.

“I just want you to be happy, Sammy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Just like that, Sam’s anger is gone, his expression dropping as the sentiment hits him.

“I am happy.”

“I know you, and I know that you could be happier.”

Realizing that their cigarette had burnt out, he presses the tip to the rock beneath him just to make sure before putting it back in the box, not wanting to litter. “It’s getting late, we should probably get back to the camp before we fall asleep out here.” He offers Danny a small smile before standing up, holding his hand out to pull him up.

“Uh, yeah, you’re right. Thanks.” Why does he keep refusing to leave? What is he so afraid of?

--------------------------------------------------------

7:16 AM

Being woken up by the rustling of the twins outside their tent, their voices much louder than they needed to be, Danny squints against the morning light filtering through the canvas, squeezing his eyes closed. Relaxing back into the warmth of his sleeping bag, his eyes suddenly fly open as he realizes his arms were wrapped completely around Sam, his back to Danny’s chest with their legs tangled as best they could in their separate sleeping bags. His heart rate only further increases as he feels Sam’s arms wrapped around his forearm, hugging it to his chest as his breath lightly grazes his skin.

Just relax. Don’t. Fucking. Freak out. If you do and he wakes up, it’ll just be weird for both of us. Should I try to get my arms back? No, that could wake him up. Just go back to sleep, and if he asks about it, just say you didn’t realize it because you were asleep.

Danny squeezes his eyes shut again, begging his body to fall back asleep so he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam waking up to him originally unintentionally cuddling him.

--------------------------------------------------------

12:31 PM

“RISE AND SHINE MOTHERFUCKERS, WE’VE LET YOU SLEEP LONG ENOUGH!” Danny nearly jumps out of his sleeping bag at the clamor of Josh’s yell as he bangs a wooden spoon against the bottom of a pot, effectively waking both Danny and Sam. “Good morning starshine, the earth says ‘hello’!” Josh crouches in front of the unzipped tent door with a grin plastered on his face as Sam and Danny recover from how suddenly they were ripped from sleep.

Sam blindly searches for something to throw at his brother, his hand landing on one of his Birkenstocks before he launches it across the small tent, just nearly missing Josh’s head. “Missed me, bitch. Now get up, it’s half past noon. We got shit to do today so let’s get crackin’!” He stands, making his way over to the firepit as Sam and Danny stumble out of the tent, stretching their sore limbs as they try to fully wake up.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?” Sam protests, already reaching for their French press filled with steaming coffee.

“You act like you’ve never been camping with us, Sammy.” Jake shoots back with a grin. “C’mon, both of you eat fast, we’re going to that small lake on the other side of the property to swim today.”

As Sam pours a cup of coffee for Danny, he grumbles a snide comment under his breath as he hands it to him, setting in on pouring some into his own thermos. “More like a glorified pond.”

“Awwww, did poor Sammy wake up on the wrong side of the tent?”

“Shut the fuck up, Josh. I think my sleeping bag was on top of a rock or something, my back’s all twisted up.”

Danny’s face heats, knowing exactly what Sam had been sleeping on top of all night, deciding to hide his face by taking a long drink from his thermos. First goddamn day and I’m already fucked. I wonder if Jake or Josh would swap tents with me. Yeah, right. That’s not suspicious at all.

--------------------------------------------------------

1:32 PM

“See, wasn’t the hike worth it, Sam?” Josh grins over at his brother as the group stands at the edge of the lake, sweaty from the hike as the sun hits their skin in the open clearing.

“Yeah, yeah ok. I’m sorry I complained so much. It was worth it.” He rolls his eyes, hiding his smile from the others to look for a spot to set his things. The twins are already ahead of him, dropping their bags and throwing their shoes and shirts off as they sprint into the water before Sam can even set his own bag down.

“Jesus Christ. It’s surprising that they’re the oldest ones here.” Sam comments, his stomach flipping as Danny laughs at the remark. As Danny sets his things down with his back to him, Sam lets himself watch as he bends over to untie his shoes, his purple swim shorts tightening against his muscles. Pull yourself together, fuck. Sam rips his eyes away just as Danny turns back to him, annoyance written across his features.

“Hey, I think I forgot my hair tie back at the camp, got a spare?”

“Yep.” Sam holds his arm up, showing the other man the three hair ties around his wrist. “That’s actually a good idea, let me braid my hair then I can do yours.”

“You don’t have to, Sammy. I can just put it in a bun or something.”

“Nonsense.” Sam waves his free hand in the air as if he were shooing the comment away, his other hand already occupied with parting his hair down the middle. “It’ll come out and get all tangled. I don’t mind and it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Alright…” Danny smiles sheepishly as Sam sets in on quickly twisting his hair into two neat French braids, occupying himself with undressing and unpacking part of his bag while he waits.

“Done. Your turn Danny boy.” Danny shakes his head at the nickname as he makes his way over to Sam, stopping in front of him and turning to give him access to his already tangled mess of hair. “You’re too tall, I won’t be able to see what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you’re too short, Kiszka.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“I do!” Desperate much? “I do. Please and thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sam shoots him a self-satisfied smirk as Danny turns to face him before making his way over to a small boulder. “Sit.”

Danny’s cheeks tint pink at the command, following it nonetheless as Sam moves around it to stand behind him. He tries to control his spiraling thoughts as he feels Sam’s fingers tangle in his hair, gently brushing the knots out before starting on the French braid. Whatever you do. Do. Not. Think about his tiny ass swim shorts. The last thing I need right now is to get hard in these fucking shorts. My boxers would be less revealing.

“Done.” Danny’s pulled from his thoughts at Sam’s word, his hand moving back to feel the neat braid down the center of his head as Sam sheds his shirt. “Last one in’s a rotten egg.” Before Danny can comprehend his words, Sam takes off, sprinting down the small beach as fast as he can. He reaches the water before Danny even has the chance to stand, watching him splash into the lake without so much as a glance back.

He has no right to look that good doing something so stupid. Finally standing, Danny jogs towards the water as Sam shouts his victory. “I win!” He grins back at Danny when he finally reaches him, both men treading water as the lake bottom drops off below their feet.

“You cheated.” Danny shoots back.

“Did not. You’re just not fast enough. Anyways, I think that means I get a prize.”

“Yeah right, and what do you think you get?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He winks at Danny before disappearing into the water, popping up a few seconds later next to Jake and Josh 15 feet from him.

The fuck does that mean?

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N: yes, that was a Willy Wonka quote

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @sanguinebats @theres-a-tvjoe @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @currentlyfangirling10

[gatitties]

Hey, just so you know I love what you did with the straw x male reader and I know this may be sudden but you think you can do a part 2 of it? And if you want, I can put in some of the details if you want? (Warning: This is too long) like let's say this theme is more so focused on reader's past and I will say that his backstory similar to movie sonic where his mother is actually a giant owl who had eaten a human human fruit and Is very knowledgeable with all kinda of devil fruits (She even has collections of them) but of course, like some tragic things that happened to some characters. Both reader and his mother were being raided by people who secretly worked for the world government and because of it, the mother owl had no choice but to sacrifice herself in order to let reader escape (Similar to Nico robin and what happened in Ohara) and in the end, their home got burned down and all reader could do is run away and hide. Anyways back to present, after hearing from an unknown caller that his mother was alive. He didn't believe it at first until there are just way too many evidences that his mother might be still alive after what happened and not only that but finding out how she's secretly working for the world government, it was just absurd to him. Is this the reason why they want him alive? He's not sure anymore. In the end, he decided that it would be best to never tell the crew about it and would just have to go out of his way on his own to find the location where his mother was at. And by the time, straw hats find out that they were too late and reader is already ahead of them. (Also of course, you're free to Refuse this request at any time but if you're still gonna do it then you can do it anytime K? No rush, and It's your decision to do so.)

─ Strawhats x male!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: you discover things about your supposedly dead mother and the crew is willing to help you

─ Warnings: none

Part one / Part three

ahhh don't worry about asking for the second part suddenly, I'm glad you like my work, hope you like this <3

─ You were probably adopted (maybe not, but you never wanted to ask), your mother was a giant owl that ate the human-human fruit, but you don't care where you come from, you always loved your mother.

─ A little curious fact is that she is a collector of devil fruits, which caused you some problems because people are greedy with treasures like that, but the thing is that you got your powers because of that very collection.

─ You were just a child when you were snooping through her things and that devil fruit looked tasty, you were disappointed with the taste and on top of that your mother scolded you for that, but there was nothing that could reverse the effects.

─ Normally you had to change houses continuously, the government and some people wanted the devil fruits that your mother collected, as if that were not enough, they also wanted you as an experiment subject since your fruit was quite powerful or sought after.

─ And one day what you were fearing simply happened, the government found you, worst of all, your mother sacrificed herself for you to flee, you couldn't do anything and you began to hate the government more than before, they had taken a being loved without regrets.

─ After that you wandered aimlessly, many newspapers had the exclusive that they had caught the 'evil' thief of devil fruits and were going to make her pay for her sins, your whole world collapsed when a week later, word spread that she had died and they had put up a wanted poster only alive with your face.

─ Your life began to fall apart but luckily, before your intrusive thoughts could do anything, you met Luffy… well, Usopp in the first place, but the important thing was that the strawhats took you in after your life was gone overboard.

─ You started noticing some small clues about your mother inadvertently since Luffy declared war on the world government when they rescued Robin, since then you were much more involved with them.

─ Within you there was that little ray of hope, maybe they didn't kill your mother, maybe she is captive due to her knowledge about the devil fruits, that's why you began to investigate further, following small clues.

─ You kept all this hidden from the others because you thought it was something you had to solve on your own, although Robin was already suspicious about you, you always went to her when you needed more detailed information about the government.

─ "Why so curious now about this?" "For nothing in particular, I like to find out about the people I hate so I can hit them harder." It's not like it was a lie itself, you wanted to hit those bastard governors.

─ You had a small diary where you had everything collected in the last months, luckily they respected your private things, although they thought that all your secrecy was because you were young and you were embarrassed to share some things with them.

─ "Why do you always hide that book of yours when you see us, huh? Don't tell me, it's a diary and you write about your lover there!" "I-It's nothing like that Luffy!" Luffy would always try to tease you and play jokes on you however Sanji or Zoro would always stop him if he got too close to stealing your diary.

─ What made you jump into the attack was a call in which you interfered one night, a call that turned all your suspicions into solid facts, "Yes, my son is the consumer of that fruit, we could locate him if the rumors about that is next to the strawhats are true" "m-mom…?" Luckily they couldn't hear the disbelief in your voice as you heard your mother's clear voice.

─ You were extremely confused as to why she would be part of the government, deeply hurt by the fact that they were looking for you, and not especially to give you hugs.

─ Everyone on the ship noticed your change after you discovered that, you started to talk less to investigate more, you became more paranoid and you started to put a barrier between them and you, you didn't need to cause them more problems than they already had.

─ But your plan to do everything on your own went awry, you tried to deal with some undercover guys who worked for the government on an island, you were seriously injured, if it wasn't because Usopp found your diary and decided to browse a bit ( because this guy couldn't contain himself and thought one look wouldn't hurt anyone) you'd probably be dead by now.

─ While Chopper treated you in a fit of stress, the others looked at your wounded body with a frown, most of them angry for not being able to arrive earlier, Luffy angry with you for not having told him anything.

─ When you recovered he scolded you because you didn't trust them to help you, "Idiot, we are here for you! You are my nakama and I would do anything for you." "I'm sorry…"

─ You apologized to everyone for being so reckless and going alone to a fight you couldn't win, they forgave you and just like Luffy, each one showed in their own way that you didn't need to have that fight by yourself, if you needed their support, there they going to be, even if they had to fight against your own mother, they would not abandon you.

[spacemonkeysalsa]

God of Ambivalence

A tiefling Artificer splits a large stone on a beach to discover a one handed-wizard inside.

Pairing - Male OC/Gale (and some Shadowheart/Lae'zel which I mention because as of chapter sixteen there are more scenes of the two of them together than my main couple, but that's because I love me a slow burn)

Fluff, angst, kinda light whomp for Gale who is is listing in a medio woobie destroyer of worlds direction. There will eventually be some smut, but that's really not the focus.

Check it out on Ao3 from the beginning or jump into chapter sixteen with the link or below the cut.

“Huh,” was all Xan could muster in the seconds after Erakis vanished into the mushroom circle. Gale was gone. Erakis was gone. Elion had a hand over his mouth and was looking at the empty air in shock and fear.

Xan could remember experiencing the kind of panic that glistened on Elion’s face, a long time ago. He wasn’t sure if it was truly an emotion he’d grown out of, or if the bar for what inspired it had just ascended to be inaccessible. Even imminent death couldn’t make him feel that way any longer. It was nearly cute.

“Have you ever dealt with fey creatures like this before?” Elion didn’t appear to be taking much comfort in Xan’s placid demeanor, in any case. If anything, it seemed to agitate him, like he thought the old monk should be more concerned. Many people casually dismissed tieflings commonly black eyes as impossible to read. Or, perpetually sinister and aggressive. Xan had never had any difficulty reading tiefling faces. For example, Elion was upset, thinking that mere hours into their journey, he’d lost his wizard, and their guide.

For his own part, Xan wasn’t so sure. It still took him a few pensive moments to realize why he felt that way, and still a few more minutes to explain it to his young companion. “Fey creatures are often vilified as unnatural perversions. Prettier variants of the same type of evil as devils and the undead.”

“But you don’t think so?” Elion sounded doubtful, his glossy black gaze bounced between the empty road behind them to the empty mushroom circle half-hidden in the grass, silently pleading for their erstwhile companions to return.

“I don’t think it’s a given, and I don’t think anything that appears in nature is truly unnatural. Maybe if I was a Devil and corruption tasted sweet to me, I’d feel differently. But to my senses, the ‘unnatural’ of the fey is just another flavor of magic, which is just a certain manifestation of energy.” Xan laid a long, many-ringed hand onto the grass, near enough to feel the energy he was talking about, but without the risk of making physical contact with the mushrooms. “Just another piece of the collective whole of our planet and those beyond, in a perpetually braiding and unbraiding multiverse. I don’t believe fey are inherently malevolent. Though, in truth, that is mainly because they don’t need to be. A mere disposition towards mischievous deeds is harmful enough.” For that matter, good intentions did nothing to mitigate harm, when it came down to it. “Fey have their own rules, and wants, that we struggle to understand. The resulting clashes are almost always violent, but they don’t have to be.”

“How does any of that help us?” Elion did little to bury his frustration with Xan’s musings. And in fairness, Can had to acknowledge that his thoughts were probably more appropriate for tutelage than practical application. “How can this time be different?” Elion’s tone was soft again, he was hopeful that Xan had a good idea of what to do, and perhaps hearing him speak on the subject broadly conveyed some confidence and calm that he needed.

And Xan did have an idea of what to do. Calling it good would be generous. “Do you have anything in your pack you can part with? Trinkets, food? Anything like that?”

Riffling through his pack, Elion still had the anxious, unfocused look of someone who wasn’t sure what they were doing was a good use of time. Xan was comfortable letting him work through it on his own, and instead, picked at one of the smallest mushrooms on the outside of the circle. He plucked it, feeling a twinge of defensive magic, but nothing unmanageable. Flicking his tongue against the mushroom, he tasted the bland, unremarkable fungus with just a hint of rot and fey magic. The non-hostile kind. Erakis probably hadn’t been vaporized when he stumbled into it. In all likelihood, he’d just been flung somewhere else. Inconvenienced, but unharmed. Xan closed his eyes and took in everything his senses could tell him about the scene. It wasn’t all an illusion, which was a good sign. There was a curious sort of sleepiness to quiet, that could also be a good thing.

“I have a few pieces of infernal scrap metal and a muffin.”

“That’ll do,” Xan took the pocketknife from his pack and cut off one of the beads on the end of a braid around the back, then gestured for Elion to hand over his offerings as well.

“What are we doing?” Elion’s anxiety was not soothed as he watched Xan arrange the items on the ground in front of the circle.

Xan scooted back a few feet and pulled Elion down to sit next to him on the ground. “Just an informal demonstration of good will.”

“…Do we have good will?” Elion sounded a little disappointed.

“We certainly can ,” Xan gave a shrug that ended with his hands resting on his knees. “I don’t really go in for violence where it isn’t necessary.”

“I think it might be necessary,” Elion didn’t sound excited at the prospect. Xan wondered if he’d ever been in a real fight. Just looking at him, he’d guess that the boy had at least been roped into a couple of scraps in his youth. He was a tiefling, and possessed an unusually large stature, two things that probably attracted hostile attention in the wrong spaces.

“I don’t feel bloodlust or malevolent intent at work here,” Xan watched his words fail to reassure Elion, “separating us, but then just… leaving us, in an unaltered environment and state, is potentially offensive as a maneuver, but not when there’s no follow-through, and there hasn’t been, so far.”

“So, we just wait?”

Ideally, no.

Before Xan could try and respond to the query, however, a crow landed beside the offerings, inspecting them with a glittering eye before it snatched up the bit of infernal scrap and took off again. Almost the instant it flew away, a squirrel darted forward, took the muffin and scurried up a tree again without hardly a pivot in its movements, and finally, a tiny green pixie hiked its way forward from a grove of long leaves of grass and picked up the bead. Its glassy wings were twitching and anxious, but it didn’t try to fly until it had hefted the bead and satisfied itself that it wasn’t too heavy for safe take-off. She hovered in the air in front of them, jewel bright eyes the same pale green shade as her skin. “You can come to the wedding!” she declared in a voice as spindly as her little body. She zipped back towards the path in a looping motion that seemed designed to make sure they could see where she was going.

“Well, I know exactly what she shouldn’t do,” Elion sighed like a man condemned.

Xan wasn’t feeling much better about it, but it was something. “Let’s follow, see what we can learn,” he still wasn’t feeling anything in the way of ill intent on the horizon, but he knew far too much to think the situation was safe.

Elion though, was tense to the point of worry. 

Xan had long ago learned that an abundance of caution actually could be just as destructive as a lack of it, especially when you were the type of person for whom feeling cautious made you act like a jumpy reactive fool. “Try something with me, Elion,” Xan suggested in his calmest voice. “Can you put a hand on my back? Feel my heartbeat? It’s a little difficult while we’re walking, but I think those keen tiefling senses can handle it.”

Obediently, Elion did as he was asked.

“Alright, now focus on my breathing and try to match it, inhale when I do, exhale likewise. Don’t think about trying to spot the pixie, or where she’s leading us, I’ll handle that, you just focus on what you still have in your pocket and your pack and how it’s moving around as you do.” A simple exercise, and maybe unnecessary, but Xan had never found it to be so much of a distraction as to do any harm under normal conditions.

Not that the present conditions were normal.

They heard the music before they saw anything to hint at a world outside of the endless wilderness. Light, airy pipes with a soft drum accompaniment. In moments, the jaunty little tune was joined but the plucking of a lute. The voices followed, singing along with the band, or else chatting above the music. A shrill laugh broke through.

“There,” Elion saw the first signs of the wedding feast before Xan did. A tree was hung with bright purple silks. They followed this first marker to a second tree, and then a third. It seemed that they were making a crescent arc around level ground, and then suddenly, that ground fell away and they were looking into a beautiful clearing, filled with revelers, music, flowing wine and cheers of excitement.

Cheers for them, Xan realized.

This group had not been there, moments ago, Xan was sure, but following the silks had revealed them, and the wedding attendants raised their glasses in greeting at their arrival.

“Watching gods,” Elion muttered nervously, though he wore a smile and waved back at the raised goblets and the cheering crowd below.

The crowd was made up exclusively of the broadest variety of fey creatures that Xan had even seen.

Along with pixies, he could see sprites of various types and sizes, a clowder of calygraunts, and even a herd of dainty little hybsils. There were also larger humanoid varieties of fey, including dryads and what appeared to be a darkling.

Even as Xan was consulting the mental bestiary in his head, a satyr rushed towards him at a bound and excitedly put a goblet in his hand and planted a kiss on his cheek before rocketing back into the crowd on quick hooves. As unnerving as it was to be so surrounded by various fey with unknown motives, their excitement and shared attitude of easy celebration was infectious.

“Surely, this isn’t safe,” Elion remarked with no small amount of shock and dread as Xan downed the goblet given to him.

“Surely not,” Xan agreed, but he hadn’t smelled anything but wine in the glass, and felt that it could be just as perilous to spurn their host’s hospitality as it would be to accept it.

A goblet had appeared in Elion’s grasp as well, and from the confused expression on his face, Xan guessed that he was probably about as aware of how it came to be there as Xan was. With a long exhale, punctuated by a shrug, Elion took a drink as well. No sooner had his goblet emptied than he was accosted by three giggling quicklings, triplets, by the look of them. Xan had never had a pleasant encounter with quicklings before, so he cringed a little as the three of them worked together to pull Elion into the dancing, but at least for the moment, they seemed to have no overt mischief in mind, besides pressing the big tiefling into some only marginally consensual fun. Each of them were just a little over two feet tall, with long ears and vibrant violet skin and hair. Thoroughly amused with themselves, Xan watched them stack on top of each other’s shoulders with exceptional balance, so as the highest could look Elion in the eyes, as they gripped either lapel of his tunic.

Xan kept a close eye, but a familiar giggle from behind stole his attention just before the music started to pick up again and drowned out the sound. He whirled around to find Arabella seated on a mossy, jagged chair that appeared to be formed from the stump of a naturally felled tree. The trunk of the tree, also covered in moss and forest growth, merged into the forest floor to her right, and served as seating for several others, with their laps as still more seating for some of the smaller fey folk.

“Arabella?” Xan said reflexively, though there was no mistaking the old family friend.

She raised a glass to him, “friend of the bride.”

Of course she was. Xan felt himself relax a little. If Arabella was here, they couldn’t be very imperiled, could they? Still, he couldn’t entirely shake his anxiety, and sidled near her. “I’m concerned about the wizard. Do you know where he’s been taken?”

Arabella shrugged, “he can handle himself,” but underneath her serene demeanor, and flip delivery, he thought he could sense the smallest tightening of her mouth before she looked back into the swirling red contents of her goblet. “Eracbetha just wanted to speak with him. He’ll be along before the happy couple can couple.”

“He’s invited to the wedding as well?” Xan hoped that was what Arabella was saying, and that his little parley with the fey had in fact resulted in a viable plan to reunite with their missing companion. “What about our guide? Erakis?”

“Who?” Arabella frowned, “Oh—the brooding ranger who isn’t a very good ranger? On his way back. It’ll take some time, but Spottie only meant to delay him, not harm him.”

“Spottie?”

Arabella motioned across the throng of fey towards a dark figure that lingered on the border, a little apart from the other creatures. Xan’s blood felt icy when he made out the subtle outline of the creature in shadow. “Spottie, the warlock.”

A blink dog. This one looked old and was covered with thick, curly, dark fur, which was a little unusual to Xan’s perception. He’d always seen them with fine golden fur. “Warlock?” Blink dogs were beasts. Unusual for a beast to tact on a warlock’s pact, but, not entirely unheard of, Xan realized as he delved into his own memory on the subject.

“He wanted to communicate with other races,” Arabella gossiped to him. “Not to mention the defensive perks. Eracbetha obliged him.”

Something about the way Arabella cut herself off and the sly look she gave Xan gave him pause. In the moment their eyes held, he thought through what she was saying and reached a somewhat troubling conclusion. “Eracbetha,” be she hag or some other powerful fey creature, “collects warlocks? Is that why she wants to speak with Gale?”

Arabella tapped her nose subtly and took another gulp of wine.

Xan frowned, looking at his empty goblet and wishing the wine he’d already finished off was a little stronger. He didn’t know Gale well, but thought he could perceive enough strength of will and enough raw power in the wizard that he could resist such advances. However, he had not yet seen anything to indicate the strength of character that would be required. It might be a little unfair to label all wizards as being hungry for power, but it was also not an entirely unearned reputation. And, given everything he’d just been through, it was likely that Gale was feeling particularly vulnerable. Would Eracbetha succeed in taking advantage of that?

Amongst the whirling bodies, Elion was now somehow dancing with three more quicklings who were also trying to stack themselves up to match his height. He was a good sport about it, helped along by the fact that he seemed to have forgotten his nerves for the moment.

“How disastrous would it be to try and find Gale and interfere—”

Arabella was shaking her head. “Stay. Enjoy the wedding. Gale will make his own choice, and you’ll not be delayed more than a few hours, which you need for your guide to find you again.”

Reassured a little, Xan admitted to himself that Arabella was probably correct. If Gale wanted to become a warlock, what could either of them do about it? Perhaps, given his dire circumstances, it would even be helpful.

But, then he spied the blink dog, still roaming the borders of the wedding at a distance, accepting a strip of meat that someone had picked up from their plate and thrown to him. He wasn’t sure why, but he had the distinct feeling that Spottie was not wholly satisfied with his lot. Few warlocks ever were.

[shihalyfie]

This is potentially a very loaded question so feel free to not answer if you don't feel like it, but how do you as a woman feel about the handling of female characters in Digimon (anime of course, but also games, manga and even the Digimon themselves)? I've seen takes of all kinds from women over the years so I'm curious how you feel. But again, no pressure to answer if you feel uncomfortable with the subject or too daunted by all the material on the table.

Oh man, I don't mind talking about the subject in itself, but what makes it hard for me is just that the Digimon franchise just has so many things at once with so many different writers and different writing philosophies that I can't really treat the entire thing like a monolith. Especially when you have things running the spectrum from Cyber Sleuth (where female characters arguably drive the narrative far more than the male characters) to Next (which has gotten me angrily ranting about the absolutely awful way it treats its girls, a rant which I would prefer to not subject my followers to).

So before I go ahead, I do want to make sure anyone reading this understands that I'm just talking about my own personal experience and feelings regarding the situation, and I'm very sure that other people will feel differently. I definitely don't feel qualified to comment on what's the ideal way to write female charaters in media or whatever (as if there's even one right answer to that!); I can only truly comment on myself and my own stances on it. (And of course, the OP graciously asked specifically about that, but I just want to make sure nobody reading this post misunderstands!)

Well, I will say that if there's one thing that does seem to be consistent (and I say consistent, because Next absolutely violates this one and Frontier does kind of dangerously toe the line), it's that I haven't really seen Digimon fall victim to the problem of what I call making its female characters the Designated Girl Characters™. Explaining what that is is kind of tricky, but a lot of shounen series will have this very strong "consciousness" of its female characters like they're there to fill a quota, and thus treat them in a way that's kind of alienating. Or in other words, "they section off this character very weirdly in a way they would never do for the male characters." (Note that while Ruki's character arc is made with strong consciousness of her being a girl, the whole point is about condemning the idea she should be treated like some novelty just because she's a girl, so I don't count it as this.)

It was really refreshing to see a 1999 anime portray the girls as mingling with the boys like it was no big deal, and I do wonder if Adventure setting this precedent is a big reason later series have followed in this regard. Adventure through Frontier were made with heavy female creator influence, something that the fandom really tends to downplay (especially because a lot of people suspiciously avoid acknowledging their importance, like how everyone will talk about Hosoda but nobody will talk about the fact Yoshida Reiko wrote the scripts for everything he did, or how people virtually ignored Seki's existence compared to Kakudou until very recently). I think a lot of that shows in its writing; of course, that's not to say there aren't things that really could have used improvement (I think Izumi's treatment in Frontier is the one pretty much everyone universally agrees really left much to be desired, and Tomita even outright admitted he's not very good at writing girls, although that frankly kind of surprises me given how much of his other work has involved writing girls really well), but at the very least it does show a bit more conscientiousness about its female characters than you would see in other shows where female creators were either nonexistent or clearly had no influence in the staff room.

On the flip side, there's also things that were more tasteful in execution than may have even been intended; Sora's character arc isn't that much about her femininity in practice, and Juri does come off as better than your average damsel in distress character, but that doesn't change the fact that the nuance is still there (and that in the latter case a certain writer has outright indulged in that), so all I can do is just be grateful that it didn't get worse.

I guess in the end, my stance is "give or take". I like a lot of other kids' shows (including shounen) that have been better or worse than Digimon's average level, and Digimon itself is so varied that I think it just kind of mingles in there. There are things I like, things I don't like, but at the very least there haven't been too many things that crossed my personal boundary of "absolutely not" (there are, there just aren't many). I think Adventure and 02 in particular are often accused of being more malicious towards its female characters and "screwing them over" than they were intended to be, since a lot of it seems to be a combination of wanting to portray its characters a little too realistically and simply just accidental bad circumstances of how it presented (the fact Hikari's two most famous episodes are by two non-regulars on the series who seemed to be huge fans of portraying her with a brother complex really did not help here), and things like "the same things that feel personally relatable to me are also things that read badly to others, so I understand why people don't like it but I also feel kind of weird when they imply that this kind of concept is inherently Bad" (a lot of things related to Sora and Miyako fall into this category for me). And I mean, part of the reason Miyako became my central character back when I wrote fanfic more often was that I just found her to be an incredibly complex character for the kind you'd usually see in shounen works; I honestly don't know of many other things that would portray someone like her sympathetically instead of cramming her into a "hysterical woman" trope box.

There's also the fact that there's a lot more adult-oriented Digimon media coming up nowadays, so there's that awkward situation where "female character representation" starts having a blurred boundary with "waifu character". Which is not to say that I mind the idea of male fans also liking the female characters I like, but more so that when you get into this territory, I start getting conscious about whether the female characters are more obviously being written in a way to "please the male fans and make them into fanservice material" than it respects them as characters. And I mean, I say it's a blurred boundary for good reason; the aforementioned Cyber Sleuth characters do kind of have that (especially in their character designs), but they are actually written as good characters with agency, whereas you have things like the Adventure girls in tri. who are ostensibly written to follow up on their Adventure character arcs but came off to me as being uncomfortably shoved into the Waifu Character Fanservice troping boxes, especially Mimi and Hikari. (Hooters outfit Mimi and brother complex Hikari are among the few things that I would say have crossed a serious line with me.) So again...give or take.

I will say that the American English dub had a somewhat more misogynistic nuance in the way it treated Mimi, Miyako, and Hikari (it had a lot more condescending tone in the way it portrayed Mimi's airheadedness/materialism and Yolei's penchant for fangirling while also expecting Kari to just put up with Davis harassing her, and it exacerbated the already-kind-of-uncomfortable feelings I had about the unsympathetic way Sora is portrayed in Our War Game!), but it's not to the extent I felt it derailed the entire narrative.

As for the Digimon themselves, the feminine Digimon design sexualization didn't bother me much when I was younger (I remember I really wasn't bothered by Angewomon's design at all), but it does bother me a little more now, especially since you have more designs like Venusmon these days (really? really?). But then there are also really good designs like LovelyAngemon and Mastemon that are just plain cool! And then even designs aside, there's a difference in the way each work portrays them; for instance, you can tell certain anime had more fun with the chest jiggles on the same Digimon that other series were not weird about at all. Maybe the fact Adventure and 02 weren't really weird about Angewomon's design was exactly why I didn't notice it very much back then?

Well, that got long and very rambling, but I hope that answered your question to some extent!

[ownedbythescribe]

Kaedehara Kazuha | Longer Way Ahead

ıllı Synopsis: Amidst the troubles of life, Kazuha was allured by the gleam in your eyes. He longed to know your name and take his chance. Will you let him?

ıllı Genre: Fluff, Romance, Modern AU

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Inspiration: Da Capo - Honkai Impact 3rd

ıllı A/N: I really liked this one! It’s challenging not to make the characters OOC, but I tried! I hope you guys enjoy!

“Hey, Kazuha, are you all right?” Heizou asked, tapping his friend on the shoulder, who seemed high-strung on the number plastered on his exam paper. He could see the distress in his eyes and wished to know if he would like to talk about it.

“Y-Yeah, but I don’t think my guardian will be happy with the score I got. I might get an earful later when I come home.” Kazuha joked, but his friend could hear the uneasiness in his voice. Recalling the plans of the boys after school, Heizou urged his disheartened friend to join them in the arcade to de-stress. The platinum-blond male shook his head no as he wanted to be alone in his thoughts later. There were things he needed to evaluate regarding his performance.

“All right. Give me a call if you ever change your mind.” He patted his shoulder again before drifting to Venti and Aether.

College was the last thing Kazuha had in mind after his family perished in a fire incident. According to the police, it was deliberate, considering the chemicals found near their backyard where the flames started. It took months before the criminal was apprehended. Afterward, he was taken in by Beidou. He thought he would graduate high school and get a job at the cat cafe, but she insisted on getting a college degree. Here he was now, studying philosophy, and his disappointment was immeasurable.

Kazuha let out a dispirited sigh as he glanced at the paper in his hand. It was not uncommon to undertake mathematics during the first year. But to perform poorly because he disliked the subject, thus refusing to exert effort? It upset him. His father did not raise him to be lackadaisical. He knew he should have at least tried to understand it because how much more once he entered his second and third years? Critical thinking would be his valuable tool, and mathematics provided that challenge.

“Not to mention, the preliminary exams are coming. This feels so overwhelming.” He murmured, sitting on one of the stone benches in the university's garden. It was already 4 in the afternoon, yet only a few students were in sight. He was grateful for the opportunity to be alone and wallow in self-pity. Or so he thought he was alone because not far from him, he heard someone singing.

“There used to be a story teller, who always painted the sunshine and the rain.”

It was a bit off-tune, but the soft voice made up for it. Kazuha glanced around to spot where it came from until it landed on your figure.

“One has to eventually grow up. Spending a lifetime to taste love and pain”

As if in a trance, Kazuha watched you sketch the scenery ahead. Your eyes gleamed in adoration as your hands hovered above the sketchbook. He felt like he was watching a magician splash colors on a dry canvas. It was—No, you were breathtaking.

“Never can we suspend the time. Having to leave the tracks behind. There is a longer way ahead, after all.” You continued, applying colors that you thought would suit the leaves. You hummed the rest of the song until the last part. It was your favorite line.

“May you, the beauty of this world, always shine.” A smile unconsciously made its way to Kazuha’s lips. He intently listened to you hum, the feelings of disappointment and self-pity vanishing like smoke in the wind.

The lyrics of the song encouraged him to see beyond. To understand that he might have failed, but it did not mean the end of the world. It was a realization of the failure he did not see, a lesson he needed to be taught. With a new determination, he texted Xiao and asked if he could tutor him the next day regarding the exam they recently took.

In the next succeeding days, the platinum-blond male took mathematics seriously. He would question Xiao and Heizou, occasionally Scaramouche if he was in the area, about the items he was unsure of. He got the hang of advanced analytical geometry and basic logic, always practicing when he had the time. Kazuha never forgot about you. In fact, he would return to the gardens from time to time, hoping to hear you again. Those times were rare, knowing that you were on a different course. He thought of asking his friends if they knew you.

“A person singing in the campus garden? Is that a ghost story, Kazuha?” Aether shuddered, unable to seize the chill creeping down his spine at the thought of a ghost in the university.

“No, they’re a real person. I would see them sketch around buildings, trees, and even people. They also love to sing. Hmm… they have (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair.” He described. Heizou thought for a moment until he remembered an art student who was a friend of Venti. He immediately glanced at the drunkard.

“It’s (Y/N). How could you not recognize those traits, Venti? You basically hang out with them every week with Nilou and Thoma.” He chided. Venti rose from his seat and pouted. He said that other people also had those features, but the up-and-coming detective told him that you were the only one who loved to sing out in the open, even if it was off-key at times.

‘They love dissing them, huh?’ Kazuha thought. He loved your voice, really. Not to mention, the way you sang made him melt. Now that he discovered your name, he wished he could talk to you, maybe ask you out for a coffee date. His interest in you was growing each day.

Heizou noticed the smile blooming on his friend’s face. He smirked and nudged Venti, who also noticed the sentiment. It looked like your wish to have a boyfriend was coming down like a shooting star. Venti took out his phone and chatted, asking if you were free this afternoon. You said yes. Venti was about to ruin the surprise when Heizou pinched his side and grabbed the drunkard’s phone.

“Ouch! What the heck?” Venti gasped. Heizou ignored him and typed that he would like to meet up later for coffee.

“Hmm? Coffee with Venti? That’s a bit strange. He always, I mean always, asks people out for alcohol and not this. Does he want something?” You thought, frowning at the possibilities your friend might ask of you. A soft sigh left your lips before replying that you would see him later.

Heizou grinned before replying, “Great! See you!”. He returned the phone to the drunkard, then turned to the crimson-eyed male.

“Kazuha, they’re free later. I say you go ask them for a coffee.” The maroon head teased. Kazuha was stunned at the opportunity, and he could feel his cheeks flush. He stammered a response that Heizou could only imagine as he would try.

After class, Kazuha felt quite nervous. He had a silver tongue, yes, but it did not mean he could not feel emotions such as anxiety from time to time. He reached the rendezvous point and saw you sitting on the bench. The sketchbook laid open on your lap as you hummed the same song he heard when he first saw you. With a little bit of courage, he asked.

“(Y/N)… right?” You glanced up and saw a handsome guy rubbing his neck in embarrassment. The first thing you noticed was the red streak in his platinum blond hair that strangely suited him. The alluring crimson eyes also seemed to look past your soul. Noting that you were staring, you shuffled in your seat and replied.

“Yes, but may I know who’s asking?” You politely regarded. The male took a look at your masterpiece and relaxed. He told you that Venti was his classmate and asked him to tell you he could not come because Heizou dragged him away to help with their project. He added that they withheld it for too long because of the drunkard’s antics.

‘He could have texted me earlier. Geez.’ You frowned. It would have saved you time to nap instead of waiting. With a sigh, you thanked the male and took your things.

Kazuha was alarmed that you were already leaving, so he used what little courage he had to ask if you wanted to grab some coffee. You asked him why, suspicious of the act. He stiffened before noting how you looked dejected that your friend could not come.

“Venti mentioned that you like the cafe by the library. So… if you don’t mind, that is.” He could not look you in the eyes, but your mind was already doing wonders. Piecing the obvious, you shook your head in mirth. Venti set you up, and he had another accomplice by the looks of it. Otherwise, he would have already blown it.

“Hmm. I don’t know, but you’re right. I do like the cafe by the library, and I suppose Venti also told you that I favor the mild sweets they serve there?” You teased. Kazuha sheepishly laughed. Busted.

Well, he was a cute guy. This might also be the chance you have been waiting for all your life. Venti was not an idiot to set you up with the wrong person.

“You must already know me, but I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.” You placed your hand in front for a handshake. He took it and also said his name.

“I’m Kazuha. Shall we go then?” He urged. You grinned and took his hand in yours.

“Sure! I hope they still have their special drink. You should try it!” Kazuha was beyond elated. There really was a longer way ahead, a future looking to.

BONUS:

“You know, you could have just talked to me. I always see you nearby when I draw. I hope you don’t mind that I often sing off-tune. It’s just my way to de-stress at times.” You bashfully said. Kazuha flushed once more before chuckling.

“I didn’t know, but I’m happy you gave me this chance. Don’t worry about your singing. I love it.” He confessed. It was now your turn to blush. He was too adorable and honest!

“Okay….” You murmured. He squeezed your intertwined fingers, smiling contently.

Please don’t copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[ofduskanddreams]

Sunshine — another Helion x LoA meet-cute drabble 🌞

Writing the drabble last week reminded me I wrote this long ago. Enjoy this revised scene from a retired fic of mine :)

around 700 words, rated G

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” The beautiful prince asked, his arms braced on the balcony's edge.

“Maybe I want to know yours before I tell you mine, lord.” She flashed him a coy little smile.

He drew his face closer to hers, the flames in the brazier refracting off his thin gold circlet. “Helion. My name is Helion, lady,” he spoke the words like a plea.

“Helion.” Serafina parsed the lilting syllables out, enjoying the way the name felt on her tongue. “Helion,” she repeated in confirmation. “Do people ever call you Hell?” The thought made her laugh, but she was careful to hide her mouth behind her palm.

He took her wrist, tugging to gently lower her hand. “Don’t hide that lovely smile. This is Day, we prefer to let beauty shine,” he said with a slightly rakish smirk.

“How many females have you used that line on, Hell?” She mirrored his grin, feeling rather smug when his eyes went wide at the corners.

“Just because I’ve said something before does not diminish its validity, Sunshine.”

“Oh,” Serafina gasped, mockingly offended. “Do they all swoon when you use fancy words too?”

Helion’s abashed expression turned gleeful. “They were right then,” he mused to himself, though it was clear he wanted her to hear.

Fine, she would take the bait. “Right about what, Hell?”

“Are you going to keep calling me that?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Right about what? Don’t try and change the subject just to rile me, it's unbecoming.”

“Sunshine I think you’re already riled and I prefer myself improper—I think you do too.” He winked at her before continuing. Heat stole across her cheekbones. “They were right about Autumn fae having fire in their blood.”

Serafina grinned a little wickedly and a wisp of white flame danced across her palm held between them. She watched his reaction to her magic carefully. “Most people are afraid of getting burned.”

She wasn’t supposed to use her magic, especially not in front of males who could tell her father that she had broken the rules. Something told her this male was different—that she could trust him with this.

Helion looked at the little flame, fascinated. Then he did something she hadn’t expected. Quick as a lark diving between the clouds, he ran his hand through the white fire. And smiled.

Serafina cooled the flame so it wouldn’t burn and she sent it twirling up his arm. Helion watched the little wisp with fascination. Then those amber eyes flicked back to her, sparkling with sunlight.

The prince leaned a little closer. Serafina’s hand came to rest against his chest on instinct, her palm touching the draped white linen but her fingers pressed into his bare skin. The warmth of him left her a little breathless, it was so different from the warmth of fire.

Fire was dramatic—high heat that vanished to an aching cold when it died out. But this magic—him, the sunlight—was slowly and thoroughly warming. She imagined it would linger, like stones still warm in the dark after a clear summer's day.

“Luckily for you, Sunshine. I like playing with fire.” His smile was dazzling, hopeful, promising and she never wanted to look away.

Somewhere a bell tower struck, ten bright tolls ringing through the night. Serafina forced herself to step away, she couldn’t afford to be punished. Not when this week would likely be her last taste of freedom.

“I’m sorry, I have to get back before my father starts wondering where I am.” She watched disappointment flash across the prince’s lovely features.

“Will I see you again?” He asked, stepping toward her.

“My family is staying through the end of the festival. You can if you would like.”

“I would like that very much,” he beamed.

She turned on a slippered heel.

“Wait!” Helion called. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Please—tell me your name.”

“Serafina!” She called back, helpless to stop the wide smile that stretched across her face. “But you can keep calling me Sunshine!”

It was to the rich, joyous sound of Helion’s laughter that Serafina skipped down the stairs and towards her family’s guest suite.

@ablogofbipanic @spell-cleavers @ whoever else is a Helion x LoA fan — happy friday :)

[queer-ragnelle]

On the topic of misogyny in retellings, do you have any thoughts on the male characters’ misogyny in Bernard Cornwell’s Warlord Chronicles series? I feel like it could fall under “gritty realism” but sometimes it leaves a bad taste for me?

Yeah I think we're in agreement. The Winter King wasn't the worst but it certainly wasn't the greatest either. Look no further than how Ladwys was treated by Owain while everyone just listened to her scream and ignored it. Oh but she's "deserving" of rape bc Gundleus is evil so punishing her is punishing him. Or something. And matters worsened in the sequels Enemy of God and Excalibur.

Like the thing is, it felt to me as if Bernard Cornwell wrote a grimdark story, and attempted to include compelling women who go through hell, but missed the mark in a big way. All the rapist murdering shithead men die terribly (rest in piss Owain, Gundelus, Tanaburs, Lancelot etc) so they're all punished narratively for their actions sooner or later. But at the same time, I don't recall that any characters voice criticism of Merlin's sexual relationship with young Nimue or 30yo Tristan's sexual relationship with 15yo Isolde. That's where you can see the author's disturbing view of women and girls seeping through. Even if Ceinwyn was written well, what does that matter against Arthur and Derfel allowing Mark to burn Isolde at the stake bc Tristan couldn't control himself around a teenager? And then Arthur goes and marries Isolde's sister Argante in Excalibur. "She's too young for Arthur," says Derfel and Ceinwyn. That's what writers call "a sign post," which is supposed to signal to the reader that the author doesn't agree with the actions of the character by having other character's call attention to it. Okay, fine, that is there. But why is young Olwen also sexualized? Then how was Derfel persuaded to believe that Isolde/Tristan was somehow less inappropriate than Isolde/Mark? Oh right, bc Mark is fat so he's "gross," as Arthur called him, while Tristan is such a good, handsome guy. Therefore morally pure. Riiiiight. Cringe. It's deeply uncomfortable to contemplate.

My hope was the show that came out in 2023 would address a lot of this but somehow it's legit worse if you can believe it. They made Owain a decent guy. (Which actually makes his death stupid especially bc Arthur mourns his "friend?" That was his rapist thieving coworker with a good sword arm at best but okay.) And showrunners cut Tanaburs and Lancelot entirely. None of that actually benefitted the show whatsoever.

For example, in The Winter King book, Derfel returns from Ynys Trebes and Bishop Bedwin tells him Nimue has been sent to the Isle of the Dead by the local law enforcement bc she was butting heads with Christians and she ultimately killed some people in a church. Not great but I see how the narrative ended up there and Derfel went to retrieve her immediately. She had only been there so long bc Derfel wasn't even in the country. While Derfel is escaping with Nimue, Galahad comes to meet them and help.

But in the show, Derfel never goes to Ynys Trebes. He's just....around, as a side character. Meanwhile Sansum is trying to establish a church in Nimue's front yard or whatever and then his men get sick and die. They blame Nimue for "cursing" them. Arthur himself then sends Nimue to the Isle of the Dead, only for Derfel to play detective and discover the place where Sansum's men retrieved water from had a dead animal in it. They were unknowingly poisoning themselves. Nimue didn't do anything but spit on Sansum (which was deserved), she didn't kill anyone. Derfel then goes to the Isle of the Dead to retrieve Nimue. Alone. Only later does Arthur and Sagramore meet them to escape so Arthur can be like "Haha oopsie! My mistake! Will you help me talk the Druids into being my subjects--I mean working with me to get the kingdom in order for evil baby Prince--I mean normal baby Prince Mordred?" It's obscene.

So all around, The Warlord Chronicles isn't the pinnacle of literature if one is seeking an author who drinks respect women juice. Look elsewhere. But for all its faults, I don't think it's unreadable either. I don't regret reading it. There are beautiful passages and fascinating characters and I did enjoy it as a whole. But certainly there are really rough aspects that I could have done without.

[alhaithamhabibi]

literally just saw your post saying requests were open, and i ran here

can i get yandere felix chamberlain from i became the hero's rival?? or you don't have to do the yandere, just make it a bit,,, possessive i guess-?

sjdhebe feel free to reject this-!

ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : reject this?? as if! your wish is my command! hope you like this, rose!! and pls don't mind my grammar mistakes ahsjdkdl

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍

❥ the moment felix's blue eyes were set on you, he was infatuated with you. maybe you were a friend of irene and claudia, maybe you were a magic user or maybe you were just one of the prominent figures of the high society. well whatever it was, there was something about that he couldn't take his eyes off you. he wanted you to be his.

❥ that night, he researched anything and everything about you. even mundane mundane things. from your preferences and family down to your schedule and what your childhood was like. he knows it all. and with this, he approached you every now and then, to make small talk with you but kept his distance. yet even then, you treated him warmly as always.

❥ at first, he only watched you from afar with a contentment. but he's just too shy to confess as he didn't want to break something you both had. so he usually prefer to watch you from afar. it was only till claudia and irene gave him the little push he needed, he confessed his growing feelings for you in the garden of his home.

❥ though he knew he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the empire, he was still afraid that you might reject him. but then you smiled, replying with the words he wanted to hear. and he was certain, that smile of yours took his breath away. you accepted him wholly and he couldn't let you go.

❥ felix is the epitome of a gentleman. unlike the trashy male leads, he opens the door for you, pulls back your chair for you to sit on, compliments your outfit, and is always considering your feelings. he listens to you whenever you rant and you love that about him. but you always made sure that he knew that he could rant as well if something bothers him or wanted to speak his thoughts. as if he couldn't fall for you any harder.

❥ whenever you were not at an event, he always keeps his arm around your waist and takes all of your dances. he's doesn't give any room for others to step in and take you away from him. he won't let that happen. if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, he'll step in and guide you away from the situation gently yet the people who bothered you never came to disturb you again.

❥ talking to this man is never boring. it's like he knows all the topics you're interested in and what subjects to avoid. you can't help but sulk a bit if he had to go for whatever reason which he finds immensely adorable of you.

❥ though it may not look like it, he also wants to be praised by you so please do it. he becomes the happiest man in the empire, or rather, the world, when you compliment him. whether it be his looks, his intelligence, or anything else.

❥ reading together is also something you both do together! especially when it comes to books about magic in general. if you don't know much of it, felix would tell you anything you wanted to know. just watching the awed expressions you make fuels his desire to keep learning to wow you even more.

❥ felix so perfect that you never expect him to be yandere at all. he's so meticulous in a way that you will never see his 'ugly' side of him. anyone who bothers you, felix will take care of them properly. after all, coming from a wealthy, reputable, and influential family, no one would dare point their finger at him.

❥ as the devil in him begin to emerge, he found himself struggling to keep the perfect facade with sinful temptations. and suddenly, he ached to know what your body would be like beneath his, what you taste like, how certain he was that he could make you scream his name for the empire to hear. he wanted to keep you all for himself and just hide you away from the world.

❥ and that was why he left. he didn't want to taint you like this. you were the most precious person to him other than his sister, he would be damned if he became the reason why you were hurt because of his selfishness. he knew he had to be stronger to protect you so he faked his death to become stronger. it was all for you.

❥ as the years passed by, you refused suitors and still kept the promise ring that felix gave you ( it was given to you the day he confessed he was in love with you ). your parents urged you to get married but you brushed them off. deep in your heart, you just couldn't move on from him. you couldn't help but compare your suitors to your beloved.

❥ and when felix finally came back, merged with the devil, he went to your first. and the moment your eyes locked on to his blue ones, you just knew it was him. yet this time, the air around him seems different. he changed. the way he looked at you as if he wanted to devour you right on the spot.

❥ when felix found you, you became more beautiful than he last saw you. and the ring on your finger...he knew that you had been waiting for him all this time. and so had he. he knew he should've explained but now all he wanted was you. and now he finally had you back into his arms again, he won't be holding back on his desires.