#i could put up one slot at a time but also that also scares me

[wonderful-bellies]

I wanna start doing commissions again, i could really use the money and it will probably give me a sense of productivity... But god I'm so scared to. Past experiences and such and how ive been feeling lately. idk why its so much harder to draw than it used to be and its driving me insane. I dont wanna promise something and never deliver again

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do a scenario about Nemona, Penny and Arven with a real who has type null please? Maybe something about it transforming in Silvally?

YES NULL/SILVALLY TIME

I have one in Sword who I call "Bestie", and it's carried me through the Crown Tundra DLC. I want it in Violet so badly aaaa

Also this just reminded me of my fic that I wrote prior to Sun/Moon's release. Ya'll can give it a read if you so desire <3

That being said, this scenario will be like a sequel of sorts

........

Revealing Type: Null--or "Nully" as you've affectionately called it--to your friends was something you were initially nervous about...

But today was finally the day.

Moving away from Alola to attend school here in Paldea was quite the stressful journey, especially for your masked companion who had never know any place besides stark white labs and sandy beaches.

People kept warning you about how dangerous it was, but you never listened...and now your bond with the mysterious normal type has never been stronger.

Ever since you rescued it from an Aether Foundation facility that exploded due to its rampage, it put its trust in you and loved you unconditionally.

Learning the truth behind that supposedly "good" organization and its leader broke your heart. Although nothing devastated you more than realizing Nully had been held captive there as both experiment and prisoner.

You've tried researching its species, checking for notes and hacking into secret files the foundation kept under lock and key--and you discovered that Type: Nulls were basically created as "tamer" versions of Arceus, even having memory discs similar to the plates manufactured. They were meant to kill the Ultra Beasts should they invade Alola.

Instead, they went on a rampage (of course, that's what happens when humans try replicating a god's powers) and were confined to masks and put into cryogenic stasis. The whole project was deemed a failure.

As tragic as it was...you were relieved to have found Nully when you did and get it away from that horrible place.

Even so the mask still made it feel absolutely miserable, but unfortunately you couldn't find any further information on how to remove it without causing your precious Pokémon serious injury. There were no visible clamps to unlock, pulling it off would only cause it great pain, and cutting seemed too risky.

The only benefit was that it made Nully immune to critical hits, but the cons definitely outweighed the pros.

Maybe one of your friends knew more about the Type: Null species, and so you decided to call them all over for a picnic if they had free time.

All you could do was pray that they didn't lose their cool and scare your companion.

That's the last thing either of you needed.

Arven was the first to arrive, with Mabosstiff at his heels as usual, but he stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing the bizarre-looking Pokémon standing by your side. You could tell he was trying not to look too worried, considering the poor thing was hiding behind you now.

Still, it's obvious that he didn't have the slightest clue what he was looking at, so you explained everything to him: where you found Nully, why it looked like a rejected Arceus, and the memory discs you kept in a small folder.

So far, you haven't figured out how to utilize them in-battle. But despite the space they took up in your bag, you refused to throw them away.

"Are you sure there isn't a slot for these somewhere on its mask?" He stared at one of the floppy discs, before glancing back up at Nully, squinting. "It looks like there should be one."

"We've been pals for nearly three years, Arven..I'm pretty sure I would've found the slot by now if there was one." Shaking your head, you took it from him, sighing. "My only option is to get that thing off. The slot's probably on its body somewhere."

"Right...maybe there's a stomach hatch or-"

"¡Mira! You were right, Penny! They do exist!!"

"Nemona, slow down!! They're not going anywhere!!"

Hearing the shouts of two certain ladies from afar, you and Arven looked to see both Nemona and Penny coming over the horizon. The student council president was dragging the poor girl by the arm, with her stumbling to keep up and not lose her glasses.

When they arrived, Penny was dazed and annoyed as she scowled at Nemona, tearing her arm free of her iron grasp. But her attention was quickly set on the peculiar Pokémon who was cowering behind you yet again.

"Wow...I..never thought I'd see one up close before.." Adjusting her glasses, she gazed at Nully with interest.

"You've heard about them before?" You asked.

"Back in Galar, I found some top-secret stuff about Macro Cosmos trying to make their own instances. They literally stole the blueprints from the Aether Foundation."

"...yikes." Nemona remarked, tilting her head as she tried getting a better look at Nully herself. "It seems shy. Maybe a battle will help it-!"

"No battles, at least not right now." You smiled apologetically, patting it on the head as you looked at each other. "I know you're nervous, Nully..but it's okay. They're nothing like the jerks back in Alola who used to pick on us. They're my friends. You can trust them, I promise."

Nodding its head, it relaxed its haunches as it cautiously stepped away from your side, gazing at the trio and seeing their smiles, too.

They weren't looks of pity.

They seemed genuinely thrilled to meet it.

It stood there for some time, taking in everything you've said to it and thinking about how far it's come since you rescued it that fateful day.

Somehow, it knew it was always meant to be your companion--from the very moment you held it as it cried in the Pokémon Center, reassuring it that it's not a monster, but a sweet creature worthy of love and care.

Ever since then, your friendship has grew...and now it feels stronger, willing to put its life on the line for you if need be. Even though most of its powers have been concealed, it didn't feel like some weak and helpless lab experiment.

Oh no.

It was far from that now.

Thanks to your bond, it felt unbelievably strong.

So much so that....the normal-type realized an extraordinary change was imminent.

And you were about to witness it.

"Look! Nully's glowing, [y/n]!" Nemona pointed, her eyes widening as your companion was basked in a familiar light. "Is it evolving???"

"Oh my god...I think so." You gasped, never realizing the possibility of it evolving, but you're now certain that friendship is what triggered it at last.

The most noticeable thing were the cracks that started appearing all over its helmet, pieces of what you assumed was indestructible alien material falling apart. Nully shook its head vigorously, trying to get rid of it as much as possible.

Then it turned its attention to a nearby boulder, letting out a cry before performing a move similar to a Headbutt, ramming into it and letting the rock shatter the helmet completely.

At last, it was free.

When the glow faded, you and your friends gazed in awe as Nully looked back at all of you.

With its mask finally gone, what lied underneath it was a beautiful creature made of both nature and machine, with a beaklike mouth that smiled proudly.

"Nully...?" You murmured, stepping closer.

"Ally." It chirped, walking up to greet you.

Tears began forming in your eyes as your grin widened. "I can't believe it...friendship was all it took to-"

Suddenly, your rotomphone decided to ruin the sweet moment by flying out of your pocket.

It displayed a new entry in your Pokedex, and you grabbed it to read what it had to say, while Arven, Penny, and Nemona checked their own phones.

"I see, you're Silvally now." You gazed back up at Null--Silvally, watching it bow its head respectfully. With a small laugh, you mimicked the gesture, before petting it lovingly as you sighed. "Wow..."

You noticed one of the metal bolts on its face open up like a CD player, indicating that something had to go in there-

"Wait.." Remembering the memory discs, you took one out and held it up. "Do you want me to use this?"

Silvally nodded, although before you could do anything, Arven interjected.

"Hold on, which memory is that?"

"The Dark Memory. It probably just changes its type, but I believe this represents all the pain Silvally had to endure while being trapped in that mask, not knowing what it did wrong or why people shunned it for simply existing." You placed a gentle hand under your companion's jaw. "But now I think it's ready to turn that painful memory into power. So let's see what happens.."

"Silllllv!"

Carefully inserting the disc into the open slot, you watched as it closed up. Then you stepped back, seeing the colors and spikes on its body turn smoky black.

Even its eyes changed, and when they opened they looked even more menacing than ever.

And they stared directly at you.

With a low growl, it crept closer to you, while your friends held back..tense and worried that the pokedex entries were correct: this wasn't something you could so easily control.

There was probably a very good reason for the mask-

Yet any hostility Silvally seemingly expressed disappeared, as it smiled and licked your cheek affectionately, causing you to laugh once more. "Hey, that tickles! C'mere you!"

Hugging its neck, you grinned as you received even more kisses, hearing it purr with happiness. You petted its feathery crest, relieved that it completely trusted you now.

"Wow..it's way cooler than Arceus!" Nemona laughed. "Do you think I can battle it-??"

Silvally just shot her a wary look, and she immediately fell silent, a nervous smile on her face. "Haha, you're right. Not yet. But I swear we're gonna have an epic battle one day!"

"Yeah, one day. But for now, I have something special for this big guy."

"Sill?"

You managed to regain its full attention with a simple yet supereffective move of your very own:

It's called "chin scritches", something that none of your other Pokémon could resist receiving.

The mask obviously made it difficult for Silvally to receive proper affection back then...and you vowed to find a way to break it so you can do just that.

Now it was free of that awful and heavy thing, having a brand new life to look forward to: battles, friendships with other Pokémon, and more.

Even better?

Your three closest friends in all of Paldea were here to witness its evolution--a sign that despite all the odds...your bond was unbreakable.

[alotofpockets]

Common ground | Part 2 | Niamh Charles x Arsenal!Reader

Where you and Niamh grow closer after having hosted a children's event together

Read part 1 here

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k

-----

After going out to dinner with Niamh, you couldn’t even remember why you were dreading spending the day with her so much. All throughout dinner you were talking and getting to know each other, you had been so comfortable that your waiter had to come over to let you know that you had to leave since the restaurant was closing soon.

Once outside you laughed at practically being kicked out the door, you reached your cars with the biggest smile on your face, “We should do this again sometime.” With a matching smile Niamh agreed. You exchanged numbers before saying bye and each heading home.

Exchanging numbers turned into texting every day. Texting turned into calling, and calling turned into facetiming. Whenever you both had a free moment, you would video call and be in each other's presence. 

Besides online contact you also meet up at a restaurant or at each other’s places at least once a week. You were growing closer with Niamh every day, and when you were sitting together on the couch, watching a movie together, everything just felt right.

You quickly realised your feelings for Niamh, and it seemed like she felt the same way about you from the way the two of you interacted with each other.

When she knocked on your door that evening you quite literally pulled her into your apartment. “Come on, I'm making your favourite.” By her hand you pulled her into the kitchen, where you had already started dinner.

“No music while you’re cooking? That’s not like you.” You hadn’t even realised you had forgotten until Niamh mentioned it, “Can you put some on, please?” Busy with stirring the pots, you handed your phone over to Niamh, and went to Spotify and turned on her favourite playlist. 

The soft music filled the room, and Niamh slotted in beside you. Helping with dinner, but mostly just snacking on the ingredients when she thought you weren’t looking. Cooking with Niamh has quickly become one of your favourite activities. 

That night laughter filled the kitchen, and you were alway standing just a little closer together than was necessary. It all felt so natural, and each moment Niamh’s hand touched you a jolt of electricity moved through your body.

After dinner the two of you settled on the couch to watch a movie, like you always did. You didn’t know how Niamh convinced you to watch a scary movie, well you did of course. All she had to say was please, and you had crumbled. Now you were hiding behind the blanket that was draped over the both of you, whenever a scary scene came up.

Niamh chuckled every time you hid. It wasn’t until maybe the fifth time you had done so, that she pulled you into her side for some comfort. For a moment all you could focus on was Niamh, but then a loud sound from the movie scared you again and you hid your face into her.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Niamh joked when the end credits rolled. “Not so bad? I am frightened for life!” She chuckled and got up to clean up the dishes. 

The second you heard a noise, you sprinted after her. “Wait! Don't leave me here alone!” Niamh, completely unphased by the movie, chuckles again. “How are you gonna sleep here on your own?” Her comment was more so meant as a joke, but your eyes widened in fear. “Oh God. You have to stay the night, please.” 

You looked in your closet for some clothes for Niamh to bed, your eyes landed on a pair of your Arsenal shorts. The idea alone made you giggle, but you know you couldn’t do that to her. Instead you opted for one of your old national team shorts along with an oversized shirt. 

“I see what you’re trying to do here.” She joked upon seeing the shorts. “If I hear any complaints, next time I will offer Arsenal ones.” She held up her hands in surrender. “No complaints here.” 

It was easy enough to convince Niamh to share your bed, rather than her sleeping on the couch. I mean the argument that her sleeping on the couch would still leave you alone in your room with all the scary noises surrounding you.

You were laying in bed face to face, just looking at each other for a while before you spoke up. “Besides your choice of movies, I really enjoyed tonight.” Niamh smiled, “Yeah me too, but I also liked my movie choice very much. At the very least it meant I got to hold you close.” 

Her words caught you by surprise, and your cheeks flushed immediately. “Yeah, I did like that part.” Niamh’s hand reached over to move a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, the moment itself had you frozen in place, your eyes moving down to look at her lips. Niamh took that as her sign to lean in.

The moment her lips were on yours, you melted into the kiss. Kissing her made the rest of the world fall away, only leaving the soft and warm presence of her. She was gentle at first, seeing how you would react. But when you leaned in, closing the space between you, she let her hand slide to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

The kiss deepened, your mouths moving in a slow rhythm. Your hand found its way to her cheek, gently brushing it against her skin as you felt her smile into the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly out of breath, and your foreheads still pressed together, you shared a soft laugh.

“Took you long enough.” You say softly before placing another quick peck on her lips. “I was waiting on you to make the first move, actually.” You laughed at the situation, both having been waiting for the other to make the first move, and at the same time being glad that one of you did.

The comfort of the moment made you feel safe, no longer scared from the movie. Niamh wrapped her arm around you and pulled you closer. You cuddled into her side, making yourself comfortable. She kissed your forehead before resting her head on yours.

As you were playing with her hand, your mind was working hard, trying to figure out how to ask Niamh what was circling your thoughts. “Do you think we could be something more? More than just friends?” 

“I think we’ve been something more than friends for a while now.” Niamh answered instantly. It warmed your heart, knowing that she had felt the same way. “But if you are asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes.” You smile into her shoulder, “I like that.”

You continued talking until you fell asleep. The next morning you woke up in her arms, and couldn’t help but smile as the memories of last night flashed before your eyes. As you were about to turn around, Niamh tightened her grip on you, “Don’t go, this is way too comfy.” You kissed her cheek and cuddled back into her side. “Okay five more minutes.” You had a match later, so you knew you couldn’t stretch it too long, as much as you would have really liked to stay like this for the rest of the day.

True to your word, you dragged Niamh out of the bed five minutes later. She was still a little groggy, her hair slightly messy and her eyes sleepy, but she looked adorable. Her in your clothes brought a smile to your face. “We should do this more often.” “Get up this early? No thanks.” She joked, as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “But yeah, I think so too.” With a peck to your cheek she moved over to make drinks, while you made the food. 

As you were plating the food, a knock came at your door. “Oh shit, I forgot Leah was giving me a ride today.” Niamh’s eyes widened, her national team captain was at the door. “Don’t worry, she won’t think anything of it.” You said, followed by a whispered, “I think.”

You opened the door to Leah, already clad in her Arsenal tracksuit. “Hey Lee, come in. We were just having some coffee.” Her eyebrows arched, “We?” Your eyes moved over to Niamh at the counter. “Morning.” She said nervously, while raising her cup of coffee.

Leah looked her teammate up and down, noticing the messy hair and shorts that were definitely yours, “Well this is unexpected.” She didn’t give anything away with the way she said it, which was making you nervous as well. Leah noticed the way the two of you were sharing anxious glances. “Oh chill out you two, I think it’s cute.” You sigh with relief and finish your breakfast. You leave Niamh and Leah to talk while you take a quick shower, before re-entering the kitchen in your Arsenal tracksuit as well. “I’ve got to go, but you’re welcome to stay however long you would like.” You move closer to kiss her but stop and look at Leah before you do. “Right, I’ll be in the car.” She hurriedly leaves your apartment, making the both of you chuckle.

“How would you feel if I was still here when you came back home?” You smiled instantly at her question. “I would love that very much.” You kiss her softly before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. Already excited to be coming home to your girlfriend after the game.

“Don’t say it.” You say as you step into the car with Leah. She lifts her hands, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 4

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Eventually Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

James had been right. Classes were put on hold with the ongoing investigation and for students who required grief counseling. While there were no formal assignments, both of my professors sent home optional reading material and questions to think about during the spontaneous break during our second week of classes.

Optional. That gave me the right to focus on Dr. Miller's topic.

As I sat on the computer in my bedroom that Tuesday night during the time slot my psychology class typically took place, I imagined what my professor might be doing right then. Like a series of movie previews my mind created images of everything from writing lesson plans, to going on a date to sitting at home in a pair of sweatpants.

A date.. I suddenly wondered, oddly for the first time, if Dr. Miller was married. How hadn't the thought crossed my mind sooner? For five or six seconds I let the big, green monster chase me into a childish pool of jealousy before I forced myself to snap out of it.

Focus on the reading. The fact that I was actively playing a game of tug-of-war with myself made me worry - just a bit; but soon I was engaged in the topic of: Antisocial Personality Disorder. I knew the basics about the topic but nothing in depth. My first correlation was to that of members of the mafia. Lack of empathy. Lying. Criminal behavior. Violent. All were traits I knew were associated with the disorder . As I continued to read, however, I knew the population possessing such qualities was far more broad.

I wondered, for a moment, if the person responsible for the woman's death suffered from Antisocial Personality Disorder. It was a valid question, or so I thought.

Maybe I'll bring it up in class, I thought to myself, and then immediately decided against it. What if someone in class knew the girl and was offended by my question? And then another thought, I could always approach Dr. Miller after class..

I tapped a pen against the desk where I sat and then rose to my feet. It was boredom. It was curiosity. It was lust. It was the craving for just a little bit of adventure. Before I had time to try talking myself out of anything I pulled on a snug, blue beanie hat, had my keys in my hand and headed out to the car.

I was beginning to feel a bit desperate when I began the trek across town to Woodbridge’s campus. What I would do when I got there, I had no idea. A part of me just wanted to know if Dr. Miller was on campus. Another part of me was intrigued a bit by the murder. No one had been found guilty, thus far, and as sheltered as I sounded I felt like it could be a little fun to poke around.

Beats being in the house all night.

The ride took about two-and-a-half songs to cross the threshold onto school grounds. I barely listened to what played on Spotify for those nine minutes or so. I had created a mountain in my mind for the trip to Woodbridge and I was certain I would end up with nothing but a molehill.

How will I even know if Dr. Miller is here? That was a question I didn't think of until I cruised into the parking lot by the building where my two classes typically took place. Students were not permitted in the academic buildings until Monday and there was a strict curfew being enforced with students living in the dormitories.

A handful of cars were in the lot and a few yellow squares on the adjacent outer wall of the building showed signs of life from inside. I circled slowly, rubbernecking to try to see down the green as I got near the end of the lot - as if any of the excitement from late last week was still occurring in the area.

When I doubled back around I felt the tingles. Only they didn't settle in my stomach. They traveled the length of my legs and penetrated my heels before making a leap straight for my throat.

Dr. Miller walked across the nearly vacant lot. I watched as tension gnawed and pulled at my insides while, all the same, praying he didn't see me there down at the other side.

I could breathe. Barely. I was much too old to be having feelings like this. Intense, yet baseless, feelings for a man I hardly knew. It truly wasn't far off from that first big middle school crush; an adolescent sexual awakening. No, I really shouldn't have been feeling like this at twenty-seven years old over a random man - or any man for that matter. On that notion alone I should have been running in the other direction.. but I didn't. Not even close.

I wasn't sure if it was the devil or angel on my shoulder that was ‘speaking’ to me. Maybe it was a combination of both. Regardless, I watched.. waited. Maybe I was the predator and he was the prey.

There was no music playing now, though my fingers fiddled with the knobs to assure I had all my senses loaned to the operation at hand. That operation was witnessing what vehicle belonged to Dr. Miller.

I could hardly say I was shocked when he swiftly entered the black Mercedes. I suddenly felt like a creep. I was lurking around watching; waiting. My professor was completely unsuspecting and oblivious. And here I had erratically and incorrectly cast him in, what I had just discovered, was my role.

Did he have a thing for me? No, I had a thing for him. Was he following me around? No, I was the one chasing him. It was me. Dr. Miller was nothing but a courteous, witty professional. I was desperate, enticed and bored.. with an active, and hopeful, imagination.

The purr of the Mercedes’s engine caused my moment of self-loathing and recognition to pause, like some intermission to my dark epiphany. Despite the conscious realization that what I was doing was wrong, I trailed him out of the lot like some game of cat and mouse.

The tables had turned, though I reminded myself again that he most likely wasn't following me last Thursday night. It was, indeed, a coincidence. He was leaving, I was leaving. Tonight I had sought him out. I acknowledged that I had somehow felt cheated that I didn't get to see him that night in our ‘regularly scheduled program’.

It was selfish, I knew that. Someone had died and somehow I felt cheated. Despite it all, I followed him for close to fifteen minutes before I was forced to back off when the Mercedes parallel-parked into an empty space outside a bar-lounge called ‘The Library’ that I had passed by on occasion, though never went into.

Okay, I was done. I had crossed a line. Following Dr. Miller was a new low. I breathed as the cars in front of me came to a halt at a red light at the end of the quaint city street.

My eyes took in the white lights and wreaths that were still strung about, the aftermath of the Christmas season that refused to be put to bed. It added some extra life to the cold, dark month of January.

A knock on the window made me physically jump. Being on edge suddenly felt like my body's default setting. I looked over and wanted to melt in my chair; or die right where I sat. I didn't know if my face was as white as ghost or red like a lobster. I wanted to fade away; disappear.

A pane of glass separated me from Dr. Miller, who smirked at me in the way he had on the few occasions we had spoken. I didn't know whether to floor it when the light changed and drop my Abnormal Psychology class so I never had to see him again or..

I rolled down my window and his eyes forced mine to meet his. “I hope you're a better student than you are a stalker.” Before I could attempt any justification for my actions he motioned with his arm. “Park up there by the church in the open space.”

When he backed away I turned to see that the light had turned green. A blaring horn from behind was like a defibrillator to my Mazda’s engine. I hit the gas just a little too hard and glanced in the passenger side view mirror. Dr. Miller stood there with his hands in the pockets of a long, black jacket and as I approached the parking space by the church I couldn't help but obey his benign demand.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” The word peppered out of my mouth like a culpable chorus that translated to, ‘I just got caught’.

I still had time to make an escape. There was no force willing me to stay there and face Dr. Miller. I could always put the car in reverse and disappear into the night.

That's not an option. I knew that. I had to face the embarrassing consequences of my actions.

When I exited the vehicle I had that genuine feeling of wanting to disappear again. What was I going to say? What was he going to say?

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @michilandcof

[voidseoul]

Obikin Promptober, Day 17: Body Worship

kinda late, but i wanted to do at least one of these! thank you kindly to @paracosm-draw for putting such lovely prompts together 💛 [and check out their full list of them here!]

(this is also posted over on ao3! if that’s more your scene)

tags: bottom anakin, top obi-wan, near death experience, premature ejaculation, overstimulation wordcount: 1.6k

– – –

When Anakin was released from the medbay, Obi-Wan was there and waiting, right opposite him in the hallway. There was a set to Obi-Wan’s jaw that gave Anakin pause for only a moment, but a shiver ran down Anakin’s spine all the same—a private thrill that kept him from shrugging off the hand settling at the small of his back like he normally would, letting it guide him up to his quarters while Obi-Wan followed beside in lockstep.

The bandages visibly wrapped around Anakin’s head might have been the only thing that saved him from being all but slammed into the door the second it slid shut.

I’m fine, sat at the tip of Anakin’s tongue, but it didn’t make it out. Lips sealed warm and fervent over Anakin’s own, twin hands cupping his jaw with a tenderness that betrayed the decades worth of calluses roughening them. Obi-Wan’s tongue gently licked its way into his mouth, each pass slick and hot and velvet; the touch of it just sensual enough to have Anakin weak-kneed. Small, pleading whimpers caught at the back of his throat.

Stars, he loved when Obi-Wan kissed him like this. Like he was the only thing that mattered in the galaxy. Like Anakin wasn’t some festering pit of dark.

(He loved whenever Obi-Wan kissed him. Period.)

An answering groan rumbled into Anakin’s mouth, contrasting those soft sounds looping between them on repeat. Faint, delicate, high-pitched, needy—those were the responses that Obi-Wan loved to pull out of him, even if his former Master rarely expressed as much openly.

Anakin had used to try to suppress them—hold them in his chest out of inexplicable embarrassment, pride bruising with each one that slipped past his lips—but Obi-Wan had been persistent, entirely too attentive as a lover to let such needless insecurities stand unchallenged. And Anakin was always going to be too sensitive for his silence to have been sustainable, regardless of his own lack of experience at the time.

He could already feel it building now: that telltale bloom of heat unfurling in his stomach, his body sagging back against the door. Obi-Wan crowded him in further in order to keep him upright, and Anakin released a grateful noise as a leg slotted between his thighs—firm, steady, perfect for Anakin to rut against with abandon.

It’d be a bit presumptuous on any other night, but not this one. Not after such a close-call like they’d just experienced.

Anakin’s hips jerked forward of their own accord, seeking out much-needed friction. Short, uncoordinated things. Little to no finesse. Just chasing a high. He would have as many as he wanted tonight—until he was thoroughly disassembled, shivering and brainless on the bed—until he said to stop. Obi-Wan would see to it.

The first one didn’t take long. It never did.

It was Obi-Wan sucking on his tongue, wet, filthy sounding, both thumbs sweeping reverently across Anakin’s cheeks which sent the preliminary jolt through his body. His hips stuttered and stalled. Anakin let that terribly tiny squeak escape from his mouth. Then he was coming into his pants like a fumbling teenager.

Obi-Wan kissed him through it, undeterred by the lack of proper reciprocation on Anakin’s end. He knew Anakin was all but useless after he came.

“That stunt you pulled yesterday was reckless, dear heart,” Obi-Wan whispered once they finally parted for air, both gasping, foreheads resting together. “You gave me quite the scare back there.”

Heart was the keyword in that sentence. Much the same as Obi-Wan’s hand trailing from Anakin’s jaw to his hairline. Fingers brushed as if by compulsion over the patch of curls there, still shorn a few centimeters shorter than all the other ones. They searched for that tangible reminder that Anakin could handle things on his own now. That Anakin’s safety wasn’t Obi-Wan’s responsibility anymore. Not truly.

Anakin leaned forward and brushed their noses together—a small bit of Tatooinian affection, one of the few customs leftover that he hadn’t minded carrying with him and adopting as his own. Obi-Wan found it endearing, but the way his Master smiled privately and repeated the gesture back to him would always make wedding bells sing in Anakin’s ears.

“I got the all-clear from Kix,” Anakin murmured back, accepting the slow, lingering kisses that began interrupting him as he spoke. “No permanent damage—I’ll be fine in a few days…” His breath hitched as a hand snuck beneath his tunics, slipping past the waistband of his leggings. “I’m, mm… I’m still here.”

Any sane person would hate being touched again so soon, but stability was never something Anakin had been able to comfortably claim as his. No, instead he let his head crane back, skull meeting the proffered padding of Obi-Wan’s palm before it could thunk against the door. A mangled, fractured sound leapt from his mouth. Anakin thrusted his hips helplessly into the expert grip stroking his softened cock.

“I had to carry you back, you know,” Obi-Wan said, trailing his lips down the column of Anakin’s throat, tonguing his pulse point. “Even minor head wounds can bleed so profusely, but the knowledge isn’t nearly as comforting when you’re limp and deathly still in my arms.”

Something jagged and sympathizing twisted in Anakin’s heart, picturing it.

“I’m sorry,” he expressed genuinely.

He hadn’t thought before diving off that collapsing bridge. He’d just known he couldn’t make it to the other side with the rest of their men in time. The Force had given him a push to the right, said go, and Anakin had jumped, landing in the raging rapids below; knocked out cold by the rockbed churning beneath the water.

And he’d survived. Those still standing around him once the bridge had inevitably crumbled, hadn’t. So clearly the Force hadn’t led him astray there.

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” Obi-Wan replied quietly, sinking to his knees. He tugged the tops of Anakin’s leggings down as he went, rolling them and his briefs down to mid-thigh. As he took that soft cock back into his hands, he gave Anakin a disarmingly raw and open look. “I need for you to have a pulse.”

Realization dawned. Anakin faltered a bit.

… He’d really flatlined again, hadn’t he? They didn’t even bother telling him whether it’d happened anymore.

“I’m…” Anakin worked his jaw as he fought back another reflexive apology. It still escaped him anyway. “I’m sorry,” he repeated uselessly.

Obi-Wan, for his part, offered him a commiserating type of smile—knowing and bittersweet.

“So am I,” his Master murmured. And then he was taking Anakin into his mouth, swallowing the shortened length of his cock with ease, uncaring of the mess still smeared all over it from just minutes ago.

This time, Anakin had the presence of mind to brace his own hand behind his head, letting it take the impact of his squirming. His body went from besieged and unwilling to forcibly tantalized. He felt himself grow heavy on Obi-Wan’s tongue, cockhead nudging into the back of his mouth, milked relentlessly by the passage of his throat.

Obi-Wan took his time with it, savoring it, but he didn’t bother holding back on Anakin’s behalf either. There was no point. He cupped a hand to the tight balls below; rolled each one with a firm but tender touch in his palm. The dull smacking from above got louder—Anakin mewling openly, tossing his head back repeatedly, as if that would help him process the sensation—like it could keep him from tumbling over that edge he was incapable of stepping back from.

Thrumming, pulsing. Anakin shuddered, groaning low and open, the sound reverberating in his chest. He shook and spasmed against the door, and a bitter spatter of come was shooting off down Obi-Wan’s throat, weakened but still present, his balls aching in protest.

There was little speaking after that. Just practiced rituals and unspoken synergy. Once gently laid upon the bed, Anakin’s cock remained warm in Obi-Wan’s mouth until he’d sobbed, left twitching and drooling clear, sticky nothing onto a lapping tongue. Pressure sank into his body with a perfected rhythm, a pleasantly burning stretch—first fingers, then a cock—Obi-Wan using both to ring out whatever dregs of pleasure could possibly be attained via stroking that sweet spot along his walls.

Anakin was mindless, slack-jawed, a human body with a pulse and nothing else; just like Obi-Wan had needed him to be. Throbbing with proof that he was alive with each thrust of Obi-Wan’s cock into his puffy and overused hole, clenching desperately around the motion of it filling him up so full. When a string of curses drifted in one ear and out the next eons later, Anakin let himself be pulled into a frenzied kiss, mumbled affirmations of I love you, stay, please don’t go passing between Obi-Wan’s lips—and a sharp cry signaled the pulses of heat spilling into Anakin immediately after, dragging sloppy and messy and slick along his insides.

Solid weight draped over Anakin’s body eventually, lighter than he remembered, but everything else about Obi-Wan was the same: the way he cradled Anakin close, like he could hide him away from the rest of the galaxy if he tried hard enough; the soft, looping mantra of stay’s and please’s.

“I’m staying,” Anakin managed to reply at last, voice croaking. “I’m here, Master.”

The mantra stopped, replaced by trembling kisses to Anakin’s skin instead—anywhere Obi-Wan could reach with his lips.

Anakin stayed silent and let his Master pray. Maybe his pleas were what had kept Anakin alive each time; having someone more pious than he pleading his case.

It was of greater solace to cling to that reasoning, rather than luck. If nothing else.

[str8aura-no-not-that-one]

i think animals are better than people.

that's not an uncommon belief, is it? you hear it said all the time, in memes, on coffee mugs, 'id rather talk to your dog', 'my cat doesn't judge me like my coworkers do', etc. its a very popular philosophy to espouse, albeit mostly in jest. It's not really jest for me, but it's not really a dig at humanity either.

I struggle often with feelings of misanthropy, how nice it would be to just assume all humans are inherently evil or uncaring, to slot an entire species into a broad stroke to make them easier to deal with. I tell myself sometimes I don't like working with humans, or seeing humans. I have a tendency to go quiet or mute at times because I don't feel like engaging people in conversation.

but that's really just stress. there is no crime for being an idiot. that person who cuts me off on the street made a slip up, or maybe did it with genuine antagonism, and that still doesn't make them a bad or worthless person. I've been 'the one who fucked up' enough times to know how crushing it is when you inconvenience somebody else, and I don't like to lose my temper, as often as it happens. I get angry a lot. I feel angry a lot. it feels good, but I don't enjoy it. I'm not a bad dog. I believe people are good, just flawed, and emotional.

and I wish, like everybody does, that I could talk to animals. I wish I could ask a deer for its thoughts, negotiate with a bear, or tell a hurt animal that its going to be alright, I'm just trying to help you. I yearn for that world, but I also accept that animals would lose their magic if they could. They would still be beautiful, yes, but I don't love animals because I imagine they are weirdly-shaped people, who understand what I say. I love them because they're animals.

We went down different paths, humanity and the animal kingdom; nowadays, we see different boons and drawbacks for it. They fight for their lives every day, never sure which moment will be their last. We struggle with thoughts of complex morality and our place in a dead, empty universe. animals never ate the apple. animals are free from sin, and punishment. When a fox kills a rabbit, it is not a murder. When a viper rescued out of the cold bites and kills the farmer that saved it, it is not a betrayal. it is simply their nature.

a few months ago, at a house I was staying at for a little while, there was a tree outside with a nest of birds. I wasn't aware of this until I came out one day and found all of the babies, freshly hatched, lying on the hard pavement beneath the trees. Cuts and tears along their bodies, eyes still screwed shut, writhing and wriggling to try and restore the warmth of the nest they had suddenly been stolen from. I called animal control and waited with the hatchlings as long as I could, but eventually I couldn't bear to see the sight. I looked up the best way to restore them to their nest, and with the use of a ladder, I got to work.

i also read that you shouldn't touch them with your hands, as it will scare off the mother bird. this, as I later found out, is an urban legend. I put on gloves to hold them, unwieldy, thick gloves meant for hands larger than my own.

they were featherless pink bastards. I think humans have the ugliest babies out of any species, but these ones were pretty close.

the first two went in without problem, but on the third, my fingers wrapped in gloves couldn't get a grip and i

dropped

it

onto the pavement

headfirst

i don't know if it was still alive or not when I finally took the gloves off and restored it. I don't know. there was no splatter, no obvious signs of death. it just stopped moving.

if the mother returned and found the body of her child, she would not be shocked. 60-70% of hatchlings do not survive to adulthood. she would not seek retribution, or to make me pay for what I had done. she didn't understand I had been trying to help, and she didn't care. life went on. she probably had more children to replace the cadaver.

i read a book series as a kid called Funjungle. It was about a kid who lived at a zoo, and would solve various mysteries around the place. In one book, he recounts being present for the lancing of a boil on a rhino, and talks about how animals always fight back against such processes. you cant explain to them that you are trying to help, all they understand is that you are causing them pain right now, regardless of whether it will soothe in the future. animals, wild and tame, think in the now.

ironically, in real life, I try not to anthropomorphize too much. I understand that an animal's 'smile' only resembles such because of the way his lips are shaped. I understand that the possums and raccoons and squirrels I encounter as I go about my life, and that one fox I had the joy of getting to witness up close, are dangerous creatures who do not have my best interests in heart. I understand that something beautiful will kill me without a second thought if it thinks I am a threat to it, and for an animal, it is always always always better to be safe than sorry.

i can tell a human things are going to be okay. I can tell a human this is only going to hurt for a minute. I can tell a human i'm sorry.

a human can lie to me. a human can hurt me. a human can make me feel like I don't want to live anymore.

I can never lose my temper at an animal, any more than I could be angry at a mountain.

animals are base, instinctive, temperamental, capricious, alien creatures.

that is why they are beautiful.

that is why I must stay away from them. as much as I wish to hug them, to talk to them, to befriend them, it is not possible. they may occupy our physical spaces, but they are from different worlds entirely.

i must look, but not touch. it is better this way.

my place is with the humans.

and it kills me a little more every day.

[spectrechosts]

Dressed Up To The Eyes - Chapter 6

Surprise!

Full Series

Jester was so, so fucking quiet.

Stealth was not her strong suit, nor were surprises, but this was important.

She loomed over Medusa, fast asleep, and gently gently gently so so gently uncoupled her faceplate and backed away from the bed. She took it to her table and set it down, her workspace illuminated by her dim phone light as she picked up a tiny screwdriver and got to work.

By all accounts it was a simple procedure, just take out the old chip and put in the new chip. This didn't stop Jester from sweating through the entire thing, hands shaking as she delicately replaced the component and reassembled the faceplate. Carried it back to the bunk and slotted it into Medusa's head.

Her eyes flicked open.

"Jester? What're you-"

She blinked and sat up, placing her hand to her cold metal jaw.

"Jester. Jester Jester Jester Jester-"

She spent a moment cycling through vocal settings, exploring the capabilities of the new chip.

"Jester, what the fuck?"

The voice she settled on was still rather monotone. Jester found that curious, but whatever, wasn't her choice to make.

"Surprise!" She said, beaming.

"Jester you should have asked me before doing this."

"If I asked you would have insisted you were fine with the old chip, even though we both know you weren't." Jester said, arms crossed. "I kept it anyway, we can swap it right back."

Medusa settled back into her bunk, rolled to face the wall.

"…I don't want to swap it back. It's just- It's complicated. Okay? I like it, I do."

Jester sat beside her and placed a hand on her back.

"So why's it complicated?" She asked.

"I don't know. It's a step."

"Steps are good."

"Steps invite opinions." Medusa grumbled. "A robot being a robot is one thing, a robot taking steps to pretend to be human is another."

"But you are human."

"For years I haven't been. The robot voice is detached, it's safe. People assume the mask is on purpose if you don't act like you want to take it off."

"We can put the robot voice back, if you need it."

Medusa sniffled, which was new. Non-word vocalizations used to come out as unintelligible tones.

"I don't want the robot voice." She sobbed. "I want to take the mask off so bad. I want a face and a body and if I let myself want them I don't know if I can handle not having them."

"It's okay, we can figure it out together. I've got your back every step of the way."

Medusa reached behind her and took her hand, pulling it close.

"It's not going to be easy. Or fast. And you are not surprising me with more parts you bought yourself, that isn't- I don't want to put that on you, and I don't want that hanging over me. This is a one-time thing."

"Yeah, totally." Jester said, nodding. "No more gifts. But this one is good?"

"Yes, it's good. Come back to bed."

~

As far as Jester could tell, if most people cared that Medusa had a slightly less robotic affect they weren't drawing attention to it. Benefits of scaring the shit out of everyone, she guessed.

The only one she knew had an opinion on it was Scáthach, because she was Medusa's partner and also scary and thus had no issue bringing it up.

With her, not Dusa.

"Uh, is her voice different? I hadn't-"

"Don't play dumb, clown. I'm trying to be nice here." She said, not sounding at all nice. "I know you know her deal, I know you did this, somehow."

"…Swapped the new chip in while she was sleeping."

Scáthach grunted, whether approvingly or disapprovingly she couldn't really tell.

"It's close enough to her voice. And she can sing, she was singing along with the radio on our way back from the last mission. She couldn't do that before."

"Y-Yeah, I guess the old chip wouldn't-"

"No, before before. Tone deaf, sounded like dogshit. Now? Perfect. It's different. Better, but different."

"Oh." Jester said. What was she supposed to say to that?

Another ambiguous grunt.

"Yeah. She's happy. You did good."

"Tha-"

"But. If you fuck this up, if you get her out of her shell and she gets hurt because of it-"

Jester nodded solemnly. "You'll kill me with laser beams."

"I will strap you to the heatsink of my rifle and let you fry as I kill other people with laser beams."

"Christ."

Amused grunt.

"Good talk, kid. Don't fuck up."

[spacealligator]

I'm curious to know how you manage your documents for fics, so I've come to you with a few (possibly fun?) questions regarding your process !

1 - How do you name your documents? 2- If you have a multichapter fic, do you keep it all on one document, have a separate document for every chapter, or something else? 3 - If a situation arises where you want to make a drastic change that can essentially end up deleting thousands of words, do you commit to deleting those chunks and start fixing them right in the original document, or do you resort to making copies first so that you still have the original? Something else, maybe? 4 - Optional freebie slot ! Tell me something about your process that you might want to mention, but I didn't have a question specific enough for you to mention it !

hellou whoooo, thank you so much for the ask, here`s how my mess of a brain organizes everything?

1- most of the time the titles are just the theme of the fic, so for the Handsome Cop universe ie the title of the google docs was police AU for a long time, Ive had names like roommate AU, ame trio AU, flower AU etc very straight foward. I only change the title of the google docs once I settle on a title I really like, and that usually happens when Im about to publish and have to come up with something hehe

2- I keep all chapters in one doc, and also, if Im writing a series, theyre also in the doc because I often need to reference it to check some infos or really just the tone of the writing up until then. The worst part is correcting some info that you`ve been using for some time, like the age of a character changes, or something that happened in their past and they reference it a lot, then I have to go over the whole text and look for the specific mentions of that info and it just sucks

3- I have a google docs called kill your darlings where I put the scenes and ideas that were edited off my final drafts, I often go through the drabbles to check if there`s any cool idea in there I can re use under a new light

oh man 4 it`s gonna be a wild one

while reviewing and editing I often use text to speech tools to make sure that the writing sounds natural, its really useful for non native english speakers like myself

I have a spreadsheet of all my wips, with their % completion status, whats still on the pipeline to be written, and just silly ideas that I want to explore in the future (I had to do this because I had more wips than I could manage and was drowning in plot bunnies hehe)

when Im stuck I like writing on my phone because its hard to care about formatting, so I just shoot hundreds of words into a doc that when I open up in the computer looks like a enormous wall of text, and its easier for me to correct, edit and fill in the gaps once I have the main content on a page (blank pages scare me)

I often write all the dialogue of the scene first, and then fill in the gaps with descriptions and inner monologues, this way I make sure the conversations in my fics have some rhythm to them

most of my stories never had an outline, I just get this scene in my had and then I have to do the work around to get there and after it the consequences of it, right now Im working on my cowboy bebop AU and its the first time I really planned a plot, but I dont know whether is better or not

sometimes I go back to read my fics already posted but I often get an itch to correct things like wording and typos, but I dont because thats a rabbit hole I don`t wanna fall into

I hope you enjoyed reading my answers and got something useful out of them, I`d love to ask you right back and hear about your writing process too!

[beansnsoup]

Got another Luigi oneshot idea for ya (which I might make my own hc's for)

Luigi x booette!reader who has a human form. The irony of this is completely there, with how Luigi is scared of ghosts and yet he has a ghost girlfriend who's the daughter of the boo king. She thinks she's hidden it well but twist is Luigi already knows and yet loves her anyway

The rest is up to you

I love this concept so so much

☆

Boo!

Summary: Being the daughter of King Boo was never easy, especially since you were in love with a man who was terrified of ghosts, specifically your dad.

Relationship: Romantic

Warnings: Fem reader, ghost reader, fluff, angst if you squint

"Whew." Luigi let out, whining off his forehead. He had just sucked up 10 ghosts as once.

"Good job, baby!" You congratulate him, smothering his face in kisses. He melted in your touch, sighing out of love.

An echoey laugh raged from down the hallway, causing you both to face the way it was coming from. It was a familiar laugh, Luigi jolted and started trembling as you cringed.

"What should we do?" He asked you, his voice all trembled.

You giggled, "I don't think he's going to make a move at the moment. He's just trying to scare you into leaving and giving up."

He looked around, shaking a little less, "How do you know," He asked.

"Oh! Um, just a hunch!" You reply, quickly enough it didn't seem that you were lying.

You've had to keep being the daughter of King Boo for a while. He's expressed how frightened he is of him and ghosts in general. So you just assumed he was just as scared of you if he knew.

You guide him out to the elevator, "I know we have to go take this all to Professor E. Gadd, but do you want to go explore a bit?"

He thinks for a minute and then nods, smiling at you and then putting the new elevator button in its slot.

You felt your stomach drop a bit as he looked at you. Every time you felt him look at you, you were scared he was getting closer to finding out what you truly were.

You took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened, bolting out. He stared at you in confusion but followed you anyway.

He looked around while you helped un wedge the doors. You found a group of ghosts in one who immediately recognized you.

Your father had been trying to get you back to his side, but you've been swerving past every challenge he's put in front of you.

Luigis noticed all of this. He's seen how King Boo is mostly looking at you or the ghosts target you. That doesn't change how afraid Luigi is, though.

He hasn't questioned you at all about it, just in case it's a sensitive subject. He did, however, notice your freakishly light hair when the two of you met.

Again, he never pointed out, he didn't want to come off as rude. Luigi also suspected the impossible, that you yourself were a ghost, but no, you couldn't be.

He follows you into the room you just went in, noticing some small ghosts leaving quickly. You turn around and notice him looking at you weird, "Luigi?"

Luigi raises his eyebrows, "Yes?"

"Is something wrong?"

Luigi looks around trying to find the words too say, he can't just straight up ask if you if you're a ghost. You had a feeling he was catching on; you were scared he was trying to look for a way to break up with you and leave you behind.

Before he could say anything, you decided to just let out the truth instead of continuing to lie to him.

"Luigi, I'm sorry I've kept this from you, I just didn't want you to leave. I knew how scared you are of King Boo-"

"So, you are a ghost?"

You nod, "And King Boos daughter..." You said, cringing at your statement.

Luigi gulped.

"I understand if you want to go on without me."

His face softened as you said this, shaking his head, "No, Y/n, of course not. I love you, and nothing is going to change that."

You smile, going in to hug him, "Thank you, I love you."

Yoooo this is pretty long

[variety-fangirl]

My Saviour / Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Summary: You finally get to Eddie's trailer for movie night, after the fight Andy and Eddie had at school, and you were determined to show Eddie how much you appreciate him and what he means to you.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS there's smut 😏 (unprotected p in v, female and male receiving oral, hand job, fingering, gentle mouth fucking, rough but passionate fucking/lovemaking, praise kink), swearing, mentions of fighting, blood and cuts. Lmk if I missed anything.

Authors note: I am so fucking sorry this took so long 😅😂 I've had a bunch of requests, college homework to do, classes to attend, and personal shit happening so things got a bit hectic but It's finally done! (Also, a little writers block🥲) Thank you to anyone who waited patiently for this. I didn't intend for this to be as long as it is 😅 but I don't regret it. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out, thank you!

Word count: 3.7k

The drive to Eddie's trailer was short, which you were thankful for, you could spend some quality alone time together. You also needed to tend to Eddie's wounds, not wanting them to get infected, it was the least you could do for what he did for you. Part of you knew it was for himself also, he wanted to show he could defend himself and throw a punch. You had to admit, part of you had been slightly turned on by Eddie's actions, the way he had defended you and stopped Andy from touching you. It was hot, no one had ever stood up for you or put themselves in harm's way just to protect you in any sort of way before.

Having people disappoint and hurt you all your life made you grateful for those who didn't and treated you with only kindness, you appreciate those people so much more. Not that there were many but you loved them unconditionally. Eddie was at the top of that list, your favourite person in the world. He was already everything to you and that scared the fuck out of you, your life had been so much better since he'd been involved fully in such a small amount of time. You hated that you'd dragged him into your mess though, your life wasn't exactly easy right now with everything going on with your parents and Andy.

As you both enter his empty trailer, your mind was swimming with thoughts. "Where's your bathroom?" you wonder, turning to look at Eddie in question. He points to the right of the hallway, "there." he smiles. You nod and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers as you pull him with you to the bathroom. You open the dark wooden door and enter, leading Eddie to sit on the closed toilet seat as you look through the medicine cabinet for a first aid kit. You collect what you need, finding mostly everything you would need to clean Eddie up.

You pour some antibacterial onto cotton balls and turn to face Eddie who was waiting patiently, flashing you a saccharine smile as he noticed you staring. Now that you finally got a chance to look at him properly, you took in his appearance. Both knuckles were busted, bloody and cut, they looked painful. His lip was cut, only bleeding slightly, and he had a small cut on his cheekbone but that was about it, Andy had looked much worse than Eddie did. He got what he deserved, it was about time that someone taught him a lesson. He must be stewing angrily inside at this moment that Eddie "the freak" Munson beat the shit out of him in a fight, you felt proud of him.

You move closer to Eddie, holding his shoulder with your free hand to reach him better. You slotted yourself in between his open legs, your thighs touching his. The warmth radiating off him into you provided comforting safety. As gently as possible, you begin dabbing at his knuckles, earning a slight hiss from him. You wince, "sorry" you apologise, genuinely feeling horrible that you were causing him more pain than he probably already felt. After a few seconds, it didn't seem to phase him anymore thankfully. You continued wiping and dabbing as gently as you could until both knuckles were as clean and disinfected as possible.

You moved on to his face, starting with his cheek. You noticed Eddie moving his hands around a lot as if he didn't know where to put them. You stopped cleaning, putting the clean cotton ball down and grabbed his hands, placing them on either side of your waist. You pick the cotton back up and begin working on his cheekbone. As if testing his luck, Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. Your body shivers involuntarily at the sensation of his fingers holding you, digging into your skin in a good way. Goosebumps raised on your stomach and arms, a smile slipping onto your features. Eddie looked away with a smile of his own.

You placed the bloody cotton into the bin on the floor next to the toilet, discarded with the others. When you turn back to look at Eddie, he was already looking at you with a look you were unsure of. You both stared intensely into each other's eyes, a magnetic connection pulling you to one another. You decide to shoot your shot, hoping to not be rejected. Leaning in slowly, your lips gently touch Eddie's, testing the waters. You wrap your hands around his neck, lips moving in sync as Eddie's hands pull your waist into him.

You climb onto his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands exploring your body. Your hands work their way up to tangle themselves into his long soft brown curls, pulling on the hair slightly. Eddie groaned, his lips opening at the sensation, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth. A squeal of surprise escapes as you were suddenly picked up, your legs wrapped around his waist almost instantly. Eddie's hands move to cup your ass, keeping them there as he walks you to where you assume is his bedroom.

The kiss is only broken when your back lands on the bed with a gentle thump, both removing your shoes and socks before Eddie climbs on top of you. Reaching with your fingers, you pull at the bottom of his shirt, letting Eddie know you wanted it off. He chuckled but didn't say anything, pulling his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor somewhere. You didn't get a chance to look at him properly. His lips return to yours with need as his body slotted in between your legs, bodies pressed together. Eddie's lips began exploring, moving across your jaw and down to your neck. You gasp as his lips suck and kiss the sensitive skin, small moans escaping your open mouth.

You sit up and take your shirt and bra off, needing his lips to touch every inch of your skin possible. Goosebumps prickled at your exposed skin, despite the weather being warm. Eddie pulls back slightly to take you in, staring at you. "So beautiful" he smiled, his hands grabbing your breasts. You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment, it felt genuine coming from Eddie. You believed he actually meant it and that made your core wet. His lips attached to your nipple, his tongue licking and sucking the sensitive area as his hand played with the other.

He continued to work on your breasts, teasing you deliciously. Between every swipe from the rough pads of his fingertips, undoubtedly from years of playing the guitar. And with every wet flick and suck from his tongue, it drove you insane. You were an extremely patient woman but Eddie just seemed to pull a needy passion out of you that took over. You wanted, needed so much more. "Please Eddie," you whisper breathlessly, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Eddie groans and nods, happy that you wanted to go further with him. Eddie didn't think in a million years that you, the beautiful rich popular cheerleader, would want anything to do with him. It still shocked him every day when you wanted to be with him and around him. Small breaths and gasps leave you as his lips move their way down from your chest to the top of your jeans, his lips kissing gently at your hips as his fingers work at unbuttoning and pulling your jeans down your legs. Your underwear follows with your jeans, leaving you completely naked.

Your skin was hot, a trail of desire left in the wake of Eddie's downward path to where you needed him most. His fingers dragged down your wet slit, fingers instantly coated in your slick. You had never felt so turned on by someone barely doing anything before, you couldn't deny the romantic and sexual chemistry that was blooming between you more and more every day. Eddie replaced his fingers with his mouth, his lips and tongue attaching to your clit. You gasp, moaning loudly as you threw your head back. The pleasure was overwhelming, Eddie was a fast learner and picked up on your reactions and sounds quickly.

You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long soft dark curls, pulling slightly in your state of pleasure. You had craved for so long to have your fingers in his hair. Eddie groans deeply into your core, the vibration feeling odd but not bad. His mouth continued to lick and suck at your clit perfectly as he added a finger, enhancing the pleasure you were already feeling. You moan loudly with your mouth open wide, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you rock your hips to the rhythm he had set. The obscene noises that filled the otherwise quiet room as Eddie's fingers pumped in and out of you had you blushing profusely, they were dirty and wild.

"Oh fuck eds." you gasp, fingers continuing to pull at his strands and thighs tightening around his head more, both reactions involuntary, not that Eddie seemed to mind. You could already feel the knot beginning to form in your stomach, building and expanding with each passing second. Your breathing quickened, chest rising and falling rapidly and your moans became louder, all concern for neighbours out the window. Eddie could feel how close you were in the way that you clenched around his fingers, his mind imagining how you would feel clenching around his cock.

"Come for me, baby. Be a good girl for me." Eddie smiled, looking up at you with devious intent. You gasp, clenching harder around his fingers as the knot releases inside of you, exploding in a euphoric bliss that takes over your body with black and white stars that cloud your vision. Eddie works you through your high, only letting up when you laugh with a gasp and try to push his head away. He chuckles, begrudgingly moving away, placing one last kiss to your stomach before you were pulling him up to kiss you.

You felt an overwhelming need to please Eddie the way he had pleased you, to show him just how much you wanted him. To make him feel as good as you felt when he touched you, bringing you immense pleasure. More than Andy had ever, surpassing it by a long shot. Amid your tongues fighting for dominance, your hand reaches down to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them so you can slip your hand into his boxers. You wrap your hand around his warm leaking cock, slowly pumping him. "Fuuuuuuck baby" Eddie groans, forehead pressing against yours, eyes closing as a look of pleasure and bliss forms on his face.

"Take these off for me," you whisper almost breathlessly as you pull on his jeans and boxers, wanting to feel and see all of him. You wanted to appreciate his body, explore every dip, crevice, bump, and mark that covered him. Eddie gets off of you to stand next to his bed, pulling the last two articles of clothing he had left covering his glorious body from you. You watch with wide excited eyes as the fabric falls to the floor, his cock slaps against his stomach as it is finally released from its restraints. It had felt big but finally getting to see it was another story, it was huge.

You stare with intrigued eyes, mouth-watering with the need to taste him. The head of his cock was red and angry, precum leaking as the veins protruded visibly. "Like what you see sweetheart?" Eddie smirks as he climbs back on the bed, now laying on his back. You nod, "most definitely. Prettiest cock I've ever seen." you bite your lip once more as you climb on top of him. You notice red tinges creep up Eddie's cheeks at the comment, you had made Eddie Munson blush. You smile, finding him all the more attractive knowing that you affected him how he affected you. There was just something about a guy blushing that was extremely cute and insanely attractive at the same time.

Being on top allowed you to get a better look at Eddie as a whole, allowing you to admire his beauty and uniqueness. As you straddled his waist, staring down at him with admiration, you allowed yourself to explore him better. Your hands ran over his inked scarred skin, tracing every line and pattern, feeling every inch of skin that you could reach. He was imperfectly perfect, his tattoos and scars a part of him that made Eddie himself. "You're so beautiful," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear as your hands run down his chest to his torso, admiring his soft skin under your fingertips.

Eddie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to roughly kiss, which caused a loud surprised moan to escape. Mouths connecting in a frantic passion, eager for one another. Kissing Eddie was addicting, he was like a drug to you, fuelling you with the need and want for him at all times. Especially his lips on yours. "I should be saying that to you," Eddie whispered breathlessly as he pulled away, forehead against yours. You smile, pecking his lips a few times before answering, "you deserve compliments too. Your beauty is something definitely worth commenting on baby."

Kissing your way down his mouth to his jaw, placing soft but needy kisses all over. Following the contours of his skin down his neck to his chest, sucking gently on certain areas when Eddie would gasp. Eventually, you finally arrive at his crotch, having teased him enough. You pumped him slowly a few times, getting him ready as you lick the precum from the angry red leaking tip of his cock. Eddie moans loudly as you wrap your lips around the head, the salty taste instantly making you wet. "F-fuck baby." he groans breathlessly, head thrown back and mouth open wide.

You bob your head as you take him slowly inch by inch further down your throat each time, savouring every delicious bit of Eddie that you were allowed to take. Eddie was big, so big that you could only fit so much to the back of your throat, needing your hand to wrap around what you couldn't take. The sounds of Eddie's deep groans and his hand inching toward your hair had you wetter than ever before, causing a deep moan of your own to escape. You could feel the apprehension coming off Eddie in waves, so you helped him out. Grabbing his hand gently, you lead his hand to your hair, indicating for him to grip it.

You nod your head to let him know you're okay with it and keep going, picking your speed up slightly. "Okay, shit," Eddie replies breathlessly as he cups your hair in a ponytail, he was now able to get a better look at you sucking his cock. You were enjoying yourself, moaning like a mess at your actions. Tears fell down your cheeks, spit drooled down your chin and covered your hand. Eddie's moans were like music to your ears, it was one of the most beautiful and enjoyable sounds you'd ever heard, and would happily listen to them for the rest of your life.

You could feel Eddie's hips being to stiffen and shake as he gently fucked your throat, he was getting close and you were more than happy to give him release. You almost craved the taste of him, knowing you were the one to get him there. But Eddie had other plans, pulling you off him and up to straddle his waist. He notices you staring at him in confusion, "The first time I cum I want it to be inside you baby." he smiles, pulling you down to kiss him after you nod in understanding. Eddie's hands grab your face and neck, thumb gently stroking your cheek.

You squeal in surprise as Eddie flips you both over so he's now on top, not breaking the kiss once. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close, needing to feel his skin on yours. You feel Eddie line his cock up with your entrance, he looks to you for reassurance and agreement that it's okay. Your heart swells at his action, despite needing release from the built-up sexual tension, he still took the time to ask if it was okay and you knew he would stop if you said no or asked him to stop at any point. You nod, "please," you whisper needily.

The second Eddie entered you, you knew you were done for, that no one else would compare after this. Not that you wanted or would even think of anyone else, Eddie was it for you. You both moan loudly as Eddie slowly adds inch by inch into you until his hips are flush with yours, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. This gave him better access and allowed him to go slightly deeper, "Shit, you feel so good, baby," Eddie hissed, giving you time to adjust to him.

After a few moments, not very long, you gave Eddie the go-ahead to move. He began slowly to let you adjust to the size, not wanting to go too fast too soon and end up hurting you. The last thing Eddie would ever want to do is to hurt you, and you knew that. That was one thing you loved about him, he was the complete opposite of Andy, so kind and selfless. Andy had become cruel, careless, and callous in his actions with no regard for your feelings anymore, and yet, still tried to keep a hold on you. But not Eddie. Eddie was wonderful.

Eddie pressed his forehead against yours as he thrust in and out, setting a slow yet powerful pace. Each thrust forward had your skin slapping, knocking the breath out of you each time. It was intense and almost painful, the pressure unlike any other you'd felt, but it wasn't bad. You enjoyed every second and craved more, needed more. "Faster Eddie, please." you breathlessly plead, mouth open as yours and Eddie's breaths mix.

Eddie picks up the pace, setting a faster rhythm. The room was filled with the sound of breathing and moans, along with the lewd sounds of skin slapping and your obscene wetness. You had never been so wet in your life, your juices were flowing down your legs, no doubt wetting the mattress under you but neither seemed to care. "Your so wet baby, you feel so fucking good." Eddie groaned as he put his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the sweaty skin there. His hands held himself up so he wouldn't crush you with the force of his hips fucking you into the mattress.

"Holy shit!" you moan loudly, head thrown back. Your nails rake down the skin of Eddie's back, the pleasure overwhelming your body. Each thrust rubbed Eddie's pelvis against your clit, stimulating you just right. Your breathing increased considerably, almost pushing you over the edge. He could feel you tightening around his cock, "wait for me baby, I'm so close." you nod, pulling Eddie's head up to you so that you can kiss him, needing to feel his lips on yours. As you kiss, Eddie's finger moves to rub your clit, your whole body shaking from trying to hold off your orgasm.

You hold off as long as you possibly can, the pressure building to the point of being almost painful. Your moans turn to needy whimpers, not being able to stay still with all the pent-up pleasure. You were a shaking, breathless moaning mess by the time Eddie's hips started to shake and stutter, "come for me baby, come on my cock." Eddie groaned against your mouth, kissing you in a feverish passion. "Oh fuuuuuck!" He yells as you moan loudly, his hips slamming into yours one last time. You both let go, coming at the same time, making the moment even more intimate. Eddie works you both through your highs, forehead pressed against yours as his cum fills you.

You wince as Eddie pulls out, praying that the mixed fluid wouldn't get on the bed as you cross your legs. Eddie returns moments later, sitting next to you on the bed. He helps to clean you up, wiping you down with a warm cloth. He tosses it on the floor once done and gets onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his side immediately. You curl into Eddie earnestly, naked bodies now connected in more than one way. You snuggle your head into his chest as Eddie's arms wrap around your back, pulling you as tight as possible to him.

Eddie smiles as he too snuggles his head into yours, placing kisses into your hair. In that moment you could feel the 'L' word creep onto the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free. You'd never said it to anyone before, so the thought of saying it to someone who become so important to you in such a short amount of time terrified you. "Eddie?" you whisper tentatively, scared of how he would react. "Yeah?" you feel him shift as if to look at you. You bite your lip, "I've fallen for you. I love you." you say so quietly that you're unsure he even heard you. You could practically hear your heartbeat in your ears, your chest constricting at the thought of being rejected.

You turn your head to look at him and feel your heart drop at his reaction, his eyes were wide and mouth open, and he looked terrified. You clear your throat, "you don't have to say it back or anything, I know it's soon. I'm such an idiot, I shouldn't have said anything-" before you can say anything more Eddie's lips are against yours, you squeal in surprise but return the affection nonetheless, needing some comfort right now after being so vulnerable. Eddie pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, "I love you too, sweetheart. I mean, how can I not?"

You smile as you wrap your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his long curly brown locks. You pull him gently to kiss once more, more softly and intimately this time as you both revel in the new shared confession of your feelings for one another.

[unholy-screeching9]

Hi!! First, I want to say that I love your writing style. So much detail! I also LOVE your art!!! Absolutely amazing.

I have a request! I’d like to see King Dice x reader, their first meeting. Game and show, or whichever you prefer! I’m not picky! I’d love to see how the two first met and how or when they fell for each other 🥰

You have free creative liberty with this!!

Feel free to message me if you need any ideas!

Thank you so much, sweetheart! Your kindness means the world to me. A lot of time and effort is put into my work, so I'm very glad it brings you joy. So sorry for the long wait! As always, if these aren't up to your tastes, let me know. I'll revamp them for you.

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting"

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting" (GAME)

King Dice loves to work in the casino. He has to, otherwise, his life would be absolutely miserable. His deal with the Devil really left him with no other choice.

There’s nothing more satisfying to him than watching those who are stupid enough to walk inside the building lose everything they had worked for. He relishes in the tears of the foolish. 

He also basks in the attention he gets from the ladies, the gentlemen and everyone in between. No matter who has fallen in love with Dice’s looks, the man accepts it wholeheartedly. Enjoys it, even. Multiple times, he’s found himself sitting in the head chair of the Grand Hazard table, with one person on each arm, two behind him with their hands on his shoulders, and even the occasional one sitting in his lap.

There is rarely ever a dull moment in the Devil’s casino. There’s always something to keep Dice entertained, whether it’s a tussle between the drunkards, a particularly exciting derby, or even some new drink concoctions the Tipsy Troop came up with. There’s always something.

Except… those things start to bore Dice. 

Sure, they’re enough to grab the manager’s attention, but the time span that these things keep his attention has slowly been dwindling. 

As invigorating as the job is, the routine has started to become too predictable. Get up. Go to work. Fawn over the attention. Sign soul contracts. Go home. It’s like clockwork. Every single day. 

It’s not to say that Dice is getting tired of his job. Oh, no. Not even close. The man just wishes that things could be a little more exciting sometimes. The shifts are long and tiring, it’d be nice to see at least a little change, to make the day pass by faster. 

Eventually, though, Dice gets his wish. 

The day you started showing up. 

Oh, hell, you are captivating. Your confidence as you strut through the double doors, catching every eye as you mosey your way down to the bar. The clacking of your shoes against the marble floor. The way you shoot a warning glare at anyone who tries to make a move on you. Good heavens, you’re a feisty one. 

Dice likes that. A lot. 

His legs sneakily carry him over to the edge of the bar, where he eavesdrops on your conversation with Ginette as she takes your order. 

You order a glass of the Old Fashioned, on the rocks. A strong, yet simple drink that hits all the right notes. 

What an excellent choice. Dice didn’t take you for someone who liked the liquors. He was expecting a classic red wine, or even a martini. 

How… unpredictable you are. Just what Dice needed, to bring back the spunk and glitz the casino had lost. 

You take your drink, and you brush past the manager, not even noticing him as you make your way past the slot machines. Past the derby area. It seems you have your heart set on something that requires more than just luck. 

You take your seat at the Poker table, sipping at your cocktail with the dealer casually sliding you a hand of cards. 

You’re after what skill can bring. You’re one of the intelligent ones. 

You certainly know the way right to King Dice’s heart. And now, he’s just GOTTA  have you.  

He watches you. Intently. From a distance, at first. He doesn’t want to scare you away from intimidation, but in all honesty, the looks you cast his way tell him that scaring you should be the least of his worries. 

Those looks also let him know that you know he has his eyes on you. You know you’ve fallen into his spotlight. But unlike the others, you aren’t pulled towards him like a moth to a flame. No… you have other things on your mind. 

Like the poker game in front of you. You’re so concentrated and determined; you know damn well what you’re doing. Dice can see it in your eyes, from his position at the bar. 

You’ve got a good poker face, but those beautiful eyes of yours are very telling. You think you’re about to win big. And goodness, when you glance up from your hand and cast him a suspicious look from your seat? 

He’s gotta get your name. He needs to know just who you are. To let you slip between his fingers would be the biggest mistake of his life.  

While you’re focused on your cards, Dice slowly makes his way over to your table, momentarily looking over the other players. ‘Watching for cheating,’ so to speak. Then, he steps behind you, smirking delightedly as he gets a peek at your hand. 

Looks like you’ve got yourself a straight. Not a terrible hand, but there certainly are better hands out there. But it doesn’t look like you’re making any moves for replacement cards. And, your bet seems to be rather high. 

Dice wonders if you’ve got little faith in your fellow players, or if you’ve just never played the game before. Maybe if he offers a bit of advice, he’ll be able to make you melt, just as he had with all the others who played hard to get. 

“You sure you wanna keep these cards, dear?” The die whispers sweetly, fondly. “It looks like you’ve got a rather low hand, with a high bet.” 

To Dice’s surprise, you let out a soft chuckle, leaning over and whispering right back, “thank you for your input, sir. But I’m quite alright. It seems that you may need to look into buying some glasses, though…” 

Ohhh, ouch. What a blow to Dice’s ego. He can’t believe you had the gall to speak to him in such a manner, all for trying to give you a little tip. While he’d usually go after those who speak like that, he just loves your attitude. It drives him nuts. 

He’s gotta see where this goes. What exactly drove you to refuse his advice? What kind of tricks do you have up your sleeve? 

The dealer calls for the players’ hands. You confidently set your cards down, the other players groaning softly in defeat, as the winnings are pushed towards you. Confused, Dice takes another glance at your cards, and his stomach does a somersault at the sight. 

A straight flush. All spades.

How could he have missed that?! 

Dice looks over at you, and is met with your confident eyes staring right back at him. Aw, hell, you’ve got him hooked. 

“Spades and clubs do look rather similar, don’t they?” You smirk, amusedly patting his shoulder. “I don’t blame you. It took me a little while to get used to the symbols when I first started out.” 

The manager is at a loss for words. He knows damn well the difference between a club and a spade, he’s worked these casino floors for over half his life. But how could you be so condescending, and yet… so oddly kind at the same time? And how in hell are you so good with your wit? 

He needs to introduce himself, before he loses his composure. 

“That was a very swell game indeed, my eyes must have missed the symbols… I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet. I’m—”

“Oh there’s no need for that, sir. I know exactly who you are.” You smile, calmly. Coolheaded. “The legendary King Dice of the Devil’s Casino. Anyone in the Isles who doesn’t know who you are would be a fool.” 

With his heart skipping several beats, the King quickly forms a smooth reply. 

“Well, since you seem to know so much about me, what about telling me about yourself? How about putting a personality to that pretty face of yours, doll?” 

You smirk, shaking your head and finishing off your liquor. Standing, you grab your winnings and hand him your empty glass, straightening up Dice’s bow tie for him. 

“Now, why would I talk about myself with a stranger, Dice? You of all people know the dangers of slipping out too much information.” 

“Aw, you’re hurting my heart, sugar. Not even your name? Something so simple?” 

“Hm… Alright, King of Hearts. The name’s (y/n). Don’t use it too much now, or you might just grow tired of me.” 

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Dice speechless, longing for more. Just how he had left so many others before. 

Good god. Now he understands what he’s put them through. It hurts. It hurts so damn good. There’s no way he could ever be tired of you, especially with a name like that. He needs to see you again. As much as possible.

He can’t wait for your return. And thankfully, he doesn’t need to wait for long. 

You come back again, the next day. And the day after that. And soon enough, you’ve become a regular, slipping into the mundane routine Dice had gotten so bored of. 

Except… you take away the normalcy. Every day you come by, the routine is just slightly different. 

Sure, you walk in, ignore the peepers, grab your usual cocktail and make your way to the poker table. One game. You win, every time. And then, you leave. It’s like clockwork. 

Except… the conversations you have with Dice. Those are slightly different. Every time. 

He tries to learn more about you. You shut him down, with a slight tease. You laugh as he fails to form a coherent reply. You leave, with Dice watching you. But every time you talk, you humor him just a little more. Driving him closer to what he wants.  

The more you come by, the more crazy he gets about you. He switches his tasks around on the schedules, making sure he is always available at the poker table and the bar. Just so he has an excuse to see more of you. To learn more about you.

Dammit, all you’ve given him is your name. That, along with the small details he’s picked up just from watching you, is not very much to work with. He needs more. 

He needs to take you out of this suffocating atmosphere. To bring you somewhere nice and quiet, where you can get to know each other outside of your casino affiliations. 

A date. He needs to take you on a date. 

He tries to be straight forward, at first. The next time you come by, during your usual conversation, he asks you to indulge in his fantasies, just for one night. 

“One date, darlin’. A night away from this casino’s chaos and craziness. Let me find out more about what makes those gears in your head turn.” 

“What a direct approach, King. But I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do better than that. There’s just not a reason for me to accept your offer.” 

Your voice is smooth, confident, with a hint of teasing. But there is something that Dice catches—something you had hoped he wouldn’t. Longing. 

The man is so. Damn. Close. He just needs to figure out a way to tip you over the edge.  

You take his hand, guiding it towards your empty glass so he can take it back to the bar for cleaning. 

Even with the gloves Dice is wearing, he can feel just how soft your skin is. It’s warm. Comforting. Addicting. Good gracious, you’re driving him insane. 

He watches you leave with a spring in your step, his eyes trailing down to the casino’s glossy marble flooring. After some deep thought, the man gets an idea. And for him, it’s brilliant. 

If he’s going to grab your attention for good, he needs to catch you off guard. Like a game of cat and mouse. 

You’ve always been great on your feet—you haven’t missed a step once in the time you’ve come to the casino. Dice wonders… What if you weren’t so good one night? What if something were to cause a simple slip, and who would catch you if something like that were to happen? 

Well, there’s an easy answer to each of those questions. 

When Dice orders for Wheezy and Chips to grease certain spots on the floor during cleanup, well, the two underlings know better than to question their boss. Still, it is rather peculiar how Dice only wants part of the floor to be greased. 

But there’s a method to the King’s madness. A method that only he can really understand. And you know what? That’s alright. 

The next day, before his shift, Dice sands the bottoms of his shoes. It breaks his heart a little, these shoes are expensive, but it has to be done. How is he supposed to be your knight if he slips right along with you?

To make a damn good impression, he pulls out the finest suit he has; one he saves only for special occasions. To him, this is certainly important enough. His choice of clothing, paired with the finest cologne he has is perfect for this night. Everything is in its rightful place. 

Now, all he needs is you. 

And when you arrive, it’s the most beautiful hee ever seen you. 

You’ve got such a fantastic choice in fashion, he wonders if that’s part of your line of work. The way your hair is done is just that much more striking, and that award winning smile to top it all off? 

Goodness, Dice better not mess this up. 

You immediately notice the slipperiness of the floor as you walk over to the bar, thinking nothing of it. You’ve walked in worse things before, and you haven’t tripped. Surely, you think, you can handle some tile that’s been cleaned a little extra. 

You grab your drink of choice, and carefully make your way to your favorite table, sitting in your usual spot. Your favorite dealer looks especially handsome today, you think to yourself as your eyes linger over Dice’s looming form for longer than they should. 

The man simply chuckles warmly in response, shuffling his deck with the occasional card trick thrown in before passing out the hands. 

You call, raising the open bet with that familiar confident gleam in your eye. The one that Dice had fallen in love with all those days ago. None of the other players have that confidence. 

Looks like your skill and luck take you far, yet again. 

Your royal flush steals the show, and you’ve gotta say, that’s probably your biggest win yet. You watch in satisfaction as the chips are slid towards you, finishing off your glass and setting it off to the side. 

Well, that’s the game of the night. You stand, acknowledging Dice as you trade in your heaping pile of small chips for a few large ones, for you to keep in your pocket. The man seems more assured than usual today. 

You cast him a wink before stepping away from the table, walking off with your winning chips in your pocket. Unfortunately, it seems that you’ve forgotten all about the greased floor. 

Before you know it, your foot slips from under you, and you start to fall, bracing yourself for a harsh contact with the unforgiving tile. 

That contact never comes. 

Instead, something else catches you nearly halfway. Something soft, silky, and smelling of Caron Poivre. Oh. Oh. 

That something is King Dice himself, grinning warmly down at you, his arm behind your back, and his free hand sweetly cupping your face. 

Now, it’s his turn to tease you, after all this time. It’s his turn to catch your aching heart, as you had done to him that first day you arrived. 

“Goodness, sweetheart. I know I’ve been trying to grab your attention for a while now, but I never figured I’d have to physically sweep you off your feet. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch after all this time, because of one measly drink…” 

For once, you’re frozen. You’ve got no retort, no comeback. Nothing to say. You just… stare. You take the time to look into his eyes, and inwardly scold yourself for avoiding them all this time. They really are a pretty sight for sore eyes. 

Those pupils of his are expanded so much you’re surprised you can still see a bit of those famous bright green irises. And they are just sparkling with want. Infatuation. 

You can’t look for long. Otherwise, you just might never be able to stop. Finally, you try to form some type of response, so he doesn’t have to stand there and hold you inches from the ground forever. 

“I… well, I just…” 

“What’s the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?” 

Dammit, he’s gotten good at this. He looks at you so expectantly, waiting for a response, but with that strikingly handsome face? You’ve lost the words you had been trying desperately to gather up. 

He’s got you, after all this time telling yourself you wouldn’t fall for his trap. He’s got you good. 

“I… t-thank you, King…” 

He chuckles warmly, sending a few butterflies right into your stomach. 

“Don’t mention it, baby. I’d never blame you for slipping on these floors—the grease is always hard to walk over. It’s caught me a few times before, even.” 

Slowly, he helps you stand on your feet once again, and you brush yourself off, not making any move to leave. Not anymore. You’ve gotten so hooked, your caution has been thrown out the window. 

“I guess I owe you a drink, for saving my life like that.” 

Dice laughs. And fuck, it’s beautiful. It’s loud, deep, and so so powerful. It takes everything in you not to lock your lips onto his right there. Fuck. 

He’s hooked you tighter than anyone else he’s ever had. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about all that. It’s on me, doll. But only on one condition.” 

“And what would that be, King?” 

“You let me take you out to The Ritz for dinner.”  

Damn him. Damn that no-good, rotten, sleazy casino manager, always making deals. Tempting deals that are hard to say no to. 

Aw, hell. What’s the point in life if you don’t take any risks once in a while? 

“Alright, lover boy. I’ll indulge you with that date. Now come on, an Old Fashioned seems to be calling my name over at the bar.” 

That deal turned out to be the best decision of your life. 

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting" (SHOW)

If there’s anything a master of ceremonies like King Dice loves most, it’s attention. Power. Influence. Money. Especially money. What else is supposed to pay for his high maintenance lifestyle? The term “money doesn’t buy happiness” is utter bullshit to the star. 

And boy, does Dice get what he wants. All the time. The spoiled Devil’s lackey NEVER hears the word no. It’s really not in his vocabulary. If the King says jump, the servants say “how high, sir?” If he says bow, his fans are on their knees. Some even kneel down before he can finish the word. 

A beautiful penthouse separated from the rest of the “common folk” of Inkwell. The top show on the radio, that plays for hours, every single day the channels run. An adoring and loyal audience, who would do absolutely anything he would ask of them. 

The finest clothes money can buy. Five star meals from only the most expensive and high end restaurants. Endless jewels and other expensive trinkets to keep the showman happy. A simple card butler at every door, and several laying out his carpet. His own limo, and driver. Staff that take care of the home duties while he relaxes. 

Really, how could you get any more fulfilled than that? 

Well, King Dice could certainly tell you how.

Everything he has is fantastic, and he wouldn’t trade any of it away, sure. That’s a given. He does love his extravagant life he’s signed a contract to. However, after so many days, weeks, months, years of doing the same damn thing, over and over again, things start to get pretty old. Pretty fast. 

And sure, the parties, acting/musical gigs, and other various events of celebrities do bring about the variety to spice up the day, but even so, something is still missing. 

Of course, being the fantastic actor Dice is, he’s learned to hide his boredom when on the air, or in front of an audience in general. He’s learned to lie, very easily. Though, that may just be part of his nature. Dice has always been a good liar. 

But god, he needs some change to his luxurious yet excruciatingly boring life. Something to keep his attention.

Thankfully, his prayers start to get answered.

Dice’s audience switches up in terms of people and their seating arrangement, every night. The variety helps bring some newness to his beloved show, when things start to get a little too dry and repetitive. 

However… Recently, there’s been one person who’s started showing up to the show every night. In the same exact seat, without fail. Always the first one to arrive, and the last to leave. 

You. 

But although you are there the longest, loyally sitting in your seat with all the others, you aren’t as overly enthusiastic as the rest of his fans. 

No… it’s like you’re watching a movie by yourself. You sit, silently, with a small smile on your face. It’s oddly comforting to the star, seeing you watching him intently. Not making a damn scene, like the other folks who just can’t get enough of him. 

You’re there for the after-show, when Dice is surrounded by his overly excited fans, BEGGING him for autographs and pictures from the press. But you don’t smother him. You simply watch behind the crowd, with that damn smile on your face. 

You’re the final one there, but before he can offer an autograph or even just a chat, you’re walking off. It confuses him. You confuse him so much. 

Why on earth would you stay so long and then just leave, without saying anything? Are you shy? No, you don’t seem like the shy type. Your smile isn’t from being flustered. You smile warmly. Boldly. Like you simply stick around to watch Dice for entertainment, and nothing more. 

The man watches you leave, staying in place until you turn a corner, disappearing into the night. He stands, contemplates for a few moments, before heading inside his waiting limo, his mind still trying to wrap around you. To understand you. 

Night after night. Every single show. You’ve become part of Dice’s daily customs, except he never gets bored. In fact, the more you show up, the more interested he gets. 

The outfits you wear get prettier and prettier to him. That smile of yours starts to make him blush, right there on that stage. You start causing him to fumble a little, each time you catch his glance. Good lord, what are you doing to him?

No, there’s no question. Dice knows exactly what he’s feeling, but he’s too conflicted to admit his feelings. Dammit, he’s in love. 

He’s in love with someone he hasn’t even properly met. 

It’s unfair. It’s so unfair, how you know so much about him, and yet, he knows absolutely nothing about you. And you don’t even give him the chance to learn. You leave before he can say anything. 

After a while, Dice can’t help but follow from a distance. Nothing too crazy, he’s no creep, but he just wants to see just where you end up every evening. The route you turn on doesn’t typically lead to any residences, so you’re not going home. 

Dice discovers that you head to the nearby bar every night. The building is just a few doors down from the studio, really not a far walk at all. It’s where he finds you every night as he rides by slowly. He’s caught bits and pieces of you sitting at a stool by the counter, sipping away at whatever drink you fancy. 

That’s the one thing he’s got on you. You like having a drink after his shows. Nothing super telling, but interesting nonetheless. 

And with interest comes determination. Dice needs to find out more about you. He needs to hear your voice. Get your name. Anything. 

You’re like a parasite that Dice welcomes with open arms. You latch onto his brain, taking complete control over his thoughts. The game show host is more distracted during his performances, only showing emphasis and charisma because he knows you’re there. In fact, he’s more passionate about what he does, as long as it keeps your attention. 

Every laugh he coaxes out of you when he says something witty and funny. Every clap you give him after he finishes with his introduction and his signature exit. Every lingering stare, where you both lock eyes with each other. You’ve got beautiful eyes, shining with wonder and energy. He could get lost in them, if he didn’t have a show to run. 

All of these things drive him to do his job well. As long as he keeps you of all people happy and entertained, well, that’s now enough for him. All he needs now, is who exactly you are.

Another signing session after his show. He runs through each paper quickly, honestly just trying to get everyone out of his hair fast enough to keep you still. His eyes search for you the entire time, barely even paying attention to his audience. He doesn’t care about them. 

Just you. 

They finally start to dissipate, and Dice finally catches your eyes again. Just as you’re starting to leave. Before you can get too far, this time, a gloved hand grabs your wrist. 

“Wait-!” 

You pause, your head turning back to the host who’s staring at you with unusual kindness, it almost breaks you. Almost. 

“I… sweetheart, you’ve always been the last to leave, but you’ve never even said a word. You haven’t asked for a single autograph or photo. So tell me, why? Come now, just tell me a little about yourself.” 

The look he gives you is so entrancing, you’re so close to caving in. You can tell he’s trying so hard, you’ve seen it since the beginning. As soon as he saw you. 

But of course, you’re not stupid. King Dice is a showman at heart, and there’s nothing he loves more than his career. Some random, quiet fan wouldn’t change that at all. 

“Sorry, sir, but I know your type. It’d be dangerous to say too much, and I don’t want to take any chances.” 

You smile, taking his hand tenderly, and giving it a gentle squeeze before removing it from your wrist. 

“But I will say, you’ve got quite the gig going on here. You’ve caught my interest, that’s for sure.” 

And with that, you walk away, just as you have every night. Leaving the star to watch you disappear, wishing he had more. Leaving him with more questions than answers. Leaving him to his thoughts, which are riddled with your face. Your eyes. Your voice. 

It was the first time Dice had heard you speak, and god, the sound is heavenly to him. It’s a shame you left so soon, before he even got the chance to hear more from you. 

To the limo he walks, allowing his driver to take him home. He’s glued to the window, his eyes scanning the bar for your presence as the limo slowly makes its way through the busy streets. And there you are, in your usual seat, swirling a glass of your favorite drink. The view only lasts a few seconds, but those moments are precious. 

What he wouldn’t give to be beside you, sharing a bottle of rosé wine, lamenting to you about just how hard it is to keep up a professional appearance all the time. How he sometimes feels jealous of you, someone normal, someone who never has to pretend. 

Laughing with you. Joking around, and sharing stories from all of Dice’s career adventures. Hearing stories from you, about how you spend your time outside of coming to the show. Slowly scooting closer to one another, glasses in hand, your drinks clinging together in a toast. A toast to normalcy and good fortune. 

A toast to love. 

Hell, if you’d let him, maybe he’d even kiss you. How beautiful would that be, to taste the alcohol on your lips? To share a beloved connection with someone who seems to care about him? 

Dammit, Dice’s feelings have reached a crazy degree. He can’t deny it to himself anymore, he needs you. You’re the piece that he’s been missing in his life. Maybe, with you, he’d finally have that sense of wholeness again. 

The entire drive home, Dice thinks. Thinks of how to sweep you off your feet. How to get you to return his affection. What he can do to make his dreams come to reality. 

A solution is a lot harder than he thought it would be. For the first time in a while, Dice is stumped. 

You never leave his head, even when he falls asleep that night. You haunt his dreams. 

The routine is the same, the next time you show up to his performance. You watch him host with a warm smile on your face. He meets you out front, after the rest of his fans have been taken care of. You move to leave, and he grabs your hand yet again, striking up another conversation. 

“C’mon, doll, don’t leave me hanging like this. I don’t know how much more I can take. You know so much about me already, but what about you? Give me something to work with, here.” 

You laugh softly at his insistence, and Dice isn’t sure he’s heard a more beautiful sound in his life. You’re more intoxicating than even the strongest whiskey he stores in his mini bar.

You take his hand like you had before, but this time, your touch lingers ever so slightly. 

“I’m not sure what a brilliant showman like yourself is doing, trying to learn about someone like me. I’m really not all that special, sir.

Dice shakes his head, gently squeezing your hand, savoring the softness of your skin. The electrifying warmth you send through his hand, up his arm, right into his heart. 

“There’s gotta be more to yourself than you’re letting on, I see it in your eyes. Humor me a little, here. At least put a name to that beautiful face of yours.” 

You smile softly, turning towards him completely. Cocking your head to your side, you look at him in amused confusion, letting him continue holding your hand. 

“It seems like you’ve got your heart caught up in a tussle, King Dice. Alright, I’ll give you my name, if you can answer this for me: why me, out of all these people? You’ve got fans who would bend over backwards to make you their groom, why have your heart out for the quiet observer?” 

“I…you just interest me, is all. You’re different. Much different. You have that aura of mystery surrounding you, and I want to break it away. Now please, darling, your name?” 

You smirk at his answer, kindly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles before letting go of his hand, turning away once again. 

“You’re getting closer, sir. But you’re not quite there yet.” 

With a soft laugh, you walk away. Again. Dammit, you’re making this so difficult, the suspense is driving Dice mad. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he walks to his limo as usual, climbing inside. He stares at the hand you had held, intently, wondering just how he’s supposed to get you to crack. 

The slow approach just isn’t working. Dice needs to be bolder. He needs to catch you when you least expect it… 

He’s never accompanied you to the bar before. He’s always just watched you go, debating on whether or not he should. Well, now, he’s made up his mind. 

This has to work. 

That night was the last show of the week, giving Dice a day off in between. Normally, he finds joy in his time away from everyone else, using up his chance to have some alone time. But now? All it does is fuel his impatience. That day is the longest he’s ever had, with half of it consisting of clock-watching alone. 

Finally, Monday comes. Dice is back in business. And today, he’s going to pull off a trick that will surely catch you. It has to. The showman is on his last leg. 

His staff have never seen him practice so hard during rehearsal. Dice runs through the motions over and over again, even when he’s got the routine nailed down perfectly. 

Makeup is the same way. Applying the eyeshadow and mascara. Removing it when it appears to be too cakey. Applying again, lighter this time, with a little blush for good measure. Better, but barely noticeable. Adding another layer of the purple shadow, along with fresh pigment over his pips. 

With his makeup perfect, his performance perfectly memorized, and his suit straightened, Dice has one of the best show nights he’s had in a long time. His audience notices. His band notices. He’s sure even his boss notices, way down in hell. 

You notice. And that’s what he cares about. He sees it in your eyes. That beautiful glimmer that keeps him motivated. 

And the performance isn’t even Dice’s main trick. This is going perfectly. 

Granted, due to the fantastic night, Dice was kept back just a little longer than he’d like, greeting, signing, and smiling for photos. His cheeks are throbbing by the time he takes care of the last person. 

But this time, you wait. When you would usually be gone by this time, you decided to stay just a little longer. And Dice almost forgets his mission out of surprise. 

“You did great tonight, King.” You smile warmly, grasping his hand in yours. 

You both stand there for a little while, smiling warmly at each other, just silently enjoying the company. And then, like all the other nights, you let him go, and you leave. 

And this time, Dice is okay with that. 

Stepping into the limo, he directs his driver towards a parking spot at your favorite bar’s side door, where he won’t be noticed by the public. The last thing he wants is for the press to butt in on this moment. He needs peace for once. 

Quiet and humble, Dice walks inside the bar, immediately looking at where you usually sit. A lonely stool, in front of the bar counter. Surrounded by empty seats. Perfect. 

You swirl your glass of scotch in your hand, eyeing the drink as you contemplate to yourself. You wonder if you should let go of your danger sense, and take the risk. 

Should you give him your name the next time you see him? Should you let him show you a different side to his charismatic persona? A side that only you would ever get to see? 

“Scotch, hm? An interesting drink of choice, but I think it fits you. You’ve got the strong boldness that comes in the drink.” 

Looks like you’ve got a choice to make. 

You look over to the side, smiling fondly when you see the very same showman you had just walked away from, sitting beside you as the bartender whips up his drink. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. I never took you for someone who goes to the bar, King Dice… you seem more of the type to have the servants make your drinks.” 

The man laughs as his martini glass is slid his way, picking it up and carefully swirling its contents. You really do have such a way with words.

“Don’t be fooled, that’s usually how I take my alcohol. But the bar does offer something that I don’t have at home.” 

The man looks back up at you, slowly leaning forward, wanting to get lost in your shining eyes. 

“It gets pretty lonely without someone to share the alcohol with, doll. But here? Well…” 

You ignore the heated feeling in your cheeks, taking a drink from your whiskey, watching him closely. 

“Well what, sir?” 

“Why not try a drink in a place where there’s a little company? Some good-looking company, to boot. You seem to like it here very much—I see you sitting here with a drink in your hand every time my limo passes by the bar.”

It’s your turn to laugh now, as you take another sip of your drink. Alright, he’s got your heart’s attention and you know it. It wouldn’t take much more than a little nudge from him, and your shell would be broken. 

“I don’t know if it’s very safe for me to share a drink with a complete stranger, handsome as he may be.” 

Dice smiles, his hand reaching forward and tilting your chin upwards, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. He also gives you a chance to examine his facial features up close, and boy, he’s even better looking than your view from your seat in his audience. 

“Well then, let’s stop being strangers, shall we? I know I ask you this every night, but this is the last time I’ll try. What’s your name, gorgeous?” 

You chuckle softly to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you tip back, finishing off the last of your scotch, letting an ice cube fall into your mouth. You let it melt on your tongue slightly, swirling it around in your mouth as you contemplate your answer. He has been waiting very patiently for—! 

Every thought in your mind comes to a halt as a soft, sweet pair of lips takes over your own, an arm wrapping around your side to bring you closer. You blink in shock, eyes wide as you stare at the one responsible for the sudden gesture. 

It’s King Dice. And he’s kissing you. 

Slowly, you set down your empty glass, cautiously leaning forward, accepting the affection. You know he had been working hard to earn your love, but if you’re honest with yourself, he has already had it since the beginning. It just took him a while to unlock it. 

His tongue slides into your mouth, finding the ice cube you had been sucking on, and swiping it from you so quickly you barely even notice it’s missing by the time he pulls away. 

He smirks down at you, the ice resting against his cheek as he laughs quietly at your speechlessness. 

“Your name, doll. What is it?” 

Completely enraptured, you finally utter out the word that Dice had been dying to hear ever since your first conversation with one another. 

“(Y/n)… my name is (y/n).” 

With a victorious grin and a raise of his glass, Dice happily responds to your lovestruck mumble. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). It seems now that we are no longer strangers.” 

He taps his fingers on the counter, and the bartender slides you a brand new drink, filled to the brim.

“So, how about that drink, then?” 

You take it slowly, raising it up so it’s just underneath your slightly sore lips. You smile once again, laughing in disbelief, feeling your heart skip a beat. 

“Whatever you say, showman.” 

And from there, it’s history.

[coruscqte]

what is xiayu’s relationship with the stellaron hunters? how do they feel about her? i’d love to hear! ur thoughts are always intriguing :3

to preface this, while i do enjoy the hunters im not actually particularly familiar with most of them :0! with the very narrow exception of firefly, i did have to go poking around on the wikia for interactions and such to find somewhere to start.

+ secondly you left a couple questions in the tags of her last post so i'll try and answer those too! <3 (i would kill for your tags btw i hope you know that /pos)

also tagging @sundays-wing-piercing + @lesbianbootheng as per usual <3

kafka:

this is a weird one because kafka, besides firefly and blade, is likely the one that interacts with xiayu the most. pops up whenever she’s least expected, just looking to see what she might be up to every few years. depending upon how you see the relationship she has with the trailblazer, she probably feels as if she has some … vague responsibility to look out for her. keep her out of trouble at least.

its not like her parents need her to, with three trailblazers someone would be lucky to walk away with all their fingers if they touched a hair on her head, but it never hurt to just. check on her if she was on planet. then message her. then meet up with her. of course not. kafka’s the furthest thing from maternal, but she fits neatly into a rich aunt slot. sort of. if that rich aunt had a gun.

though i dont think kafka would want her to be a hunter. as much as she preaches that xiayu should be equally fearless (“a vidyadhara with magic at her fingertips and a half decent shot with an axe? tell me, what is it that one little dragon has to be afraid of?”), its not like approves of her putting herself in unnecessary danger. not without her present, at least.

appreciates the finer things in life. sends ahead these dubiously earned things in the space mail for xiayu to wear or use. most of these things are packed away in her closet, but sometimes she wears this pearl bracelet kafka bought her for her fifteenth birthday (“oh hush, trailblazer. she could use something a little womanly, don’t you think?”).

occasionally, if they do run into each other, they get dinner. discuss nothing of any true importance, its off script usually between scenes, and having someone new around — young, fresh — its invigorating to kafka.

what xiayu thinks of her is equally a mystery. i think she considered becoming a hunter shortly after march’s death and still rides the fence on the topic today, but before kafka died, she’d said elio had no place for her in the script. that she was never going to be a true actor in any of their scenes.

of course, necessary redirection. whether xiayu continues to take this as proper advice is truly up to time. whether it was fate that she eventually loses everyone but her father (and that she will lose him someday), she’s not sure if she wants to be a slave to destiny. really, she doesnt know if she already is or not.

blade:

i. am not sure. i am incredibly xing/yue pilled, im ren//heng pilled only because a beloved mutual of mine is, so xiayu just appearing in canon probably throws blade for a loop. a) *how* and b) why.

(in my uber perfect world its just one big polycule. jinghengren / danstellemarch / stellefly. this is not my uber perfect world)

but i like to imagine a canon where blade and dan heng are able to reconcile their past lives and at least become amicable towards each other again. maybe not friends, but also not stab-on-sight.

xiayu is so small and innocent to him that hes just not really sure what to make of her. this ankle biting child that clings onto his pants is not exactly easily understood and he does not want to be left alone with her. at all. so much joy in a tiny person good god. he’d sooner pawn her off to kafka or firefly before she stays with him.

though i dont think she’s scared of him. fascinated by him maybe, esp as a child she likes his eyes. its bit terrifying to turn a little and see a baby staring you down though.

but an older xiayu, if blade lives long enough to see her mature into a young adult ... is probably not all that different from firefly. amped to 11. hes not sure where she gets the energy (read: its from march). surely he comes to care about her just a smidge. a little even. maybe has one of the hunters send a message for him if theyre both on the same planet (though kafka will usually message her first). she gets exactly one (1, singular) sword-wielding lesson from him, and thats about it. to him, she has potential, if she just matures a little.

seeing someone so ready to throw their life away when she’s so young and full of life is … disorienting. his time has been up for quite a long time now, but her’s is just beginning. he cant make heads or tails of why shes like this.

i wonder if he sees dan heng in her, in her face, wonder if hes seeing his old friend in three separate ways -- through dan feng, dan heng and now his daughter. terrible facade she puts up after march and stelle are gone, but should he live long enough to see them pass, i think blade of all people might be the one to rationalize their deaths to her. after all, its finality at work. you cant escape fate, you can only use it. life goes on, and even if you don’t wan it, people will stay you with long after they’ve left this plane.

though blade’s good ending to me is him dying long before xiayu is born at all. this is just a hypothetical.

silver wolf:

im not sure silver wolf knows what to make of the trailblaze baby. and im not sure that xiayu knows what to make of her either. unlike her and firefly they relate on less things and are closer in age as well. begrudgingly, silver wolf probably offers to play games with her when she gets old enough.

though, i do think she keeps an eye out for her in public channels. nothing too fancy, silver wolf wouldnt be caught dead risking her neck for a kid that didn’t even care about her all that much — but she figures its the least she can do if kafka likes her. she’ll remove a record here, tip the scales in her favor there, other than that theyre simply gaming partners and not much else.

silver wolf is still the better gamer. just because xiayu lives longer doesn’t mean she’ll ever win. after all, silver wolf has never pulled her punches.

firefly:

firefly was at the baby shower. for sure. she brought a little gift, it was xiayu's first mobile. i like to think it had butterflies patterned like her dress over it. looking out for her, in a way lol

also, the only stellaron hunter allowed to babysit. not that the three of them tend to use babysitters very often, but if firefly isn't on a script, stelle sometimes calls her.

i dont think xiayu has ever seen sam for herself 🤔 even if we’re particularly optimistic im not actually sure how long firefly will live for in canon. she might not even live long enough into xiayu’s “normal” adulthood at 20ish. given she may discover her “aunt’s” altered form on her own, but its not incredibly likely and thats okay. firefly wants to be known as herself to xiayu, rather than what she was made to be.

flair for the dramatics though. is the one sending all the (watered down) stories for xiayu to read. cultivates her thrill seeking, and she thinks being a stellaron hunter is SO cool for a little while.

firefly (?) maybe have been the first time she experienced true loss, if himeko + welt didnt go first. i think that was a bit of a shell shock, but thats also probably how she figured out she could keep sending messages to dead people’s ids. she misses her aunt too.

i think out of all of the hunters, firefly is the one she was closest with. someone she could really talk to if she got into an argument with her parents or if she just wanted to do something silly or girly or mundane with a non family member.

i do think that firefly inspired her to be just who she was though. not stelle or march or dan heng. just that she herself was enough, that she herself was at her best no matter what. it was a rather sweet parting gift that firefly left for her, and i think it must be one of her accessories that she also wears.

-

and then i'll do my very best to address these!

xiayu's catcake is named dragonfruit creamcake <3 munyamunyamunyamunyamunya, that poor cat will meow your ear off until you get sick of it or it manages to tire itself out. then itll plop itself in your lap and youre not allowed to move unless you want it to yap at you even more.

it does seem particularly fond of rice dumpling, trashcake and ice cake. it likes to "chat" whenever anyone unlucky enough to enter the lab interacts with it, and has routinely managed to escape the little catcaketopia in ruan mei’s lab. truly, it has asta stumped -- ruan mei didn't create it, the trailblazer didn't make it, where did this creation come from?

like any good mother with their rambunctious toddler, stelle of course took xiayu out to teach her baseball. now, this did mean pompom lost a vase or two whenever xiayu swung a little too hard on the express, but by the time she's a little older she has decent technique. because she doesn't carry the traditional bat, shes not known as the galactic baseballer, but it worries yanqing that she doesn't wield the axe like an axe -- its distinctly as if she treats it like a bludgeoning object.

(classically trained swordsman v gung-ho axe wielder, who wins?)

interestingly enough, xiayu sees yanqing as an estranged elder brother almost. he often wonders if he was this irresponsible as a child, and then thanks jing yuan for raising him. multiple times.

she is decent at video games! she prefers a handheld console that stelle bought for her compared to the phone that she owns, she and stelle are 1-4 right now on one of the newer games, she’s just waiting for her mom to get back to do a proper rematch. until then, she plays other games on her console.

extra fact i thought of while writing this: do you think dan heng is the one that sees his partners in his daughter? like, has a deja vu moment everytime she smiles a certain way or says something just the way one of them would? he knows he isn't dan feng, he never wanted to be treated as such, but to acknowledge the same of xiayu, that she isn't her mothers, that is so much more difficult.

[fanficshiddles]

Villain Or Victim, Chapter 3

Loki became responsible for most of the interacting with Echo, since he seemed to be the one that she trusted the most and remained calm around. He brought her all of her meals, putting it through the slot in the cell door each time.

At first she didn’t eat much, but she was slowly beginning to eat more of her meals as time went on. She told Loki how she used to have to just hunt animals in the nearby fields and forest when she was in the cabin, since she never wanted to venture into the city. And she just foraged for fruits and vegetables where she could. So it was kind of nice having proper meals that were cooked for her.

After about four days of being there, Loki decided to try something different with her lunch. The rest of the team were all out on a mission, so it was just some SHIELD agents going around in the base. Loki used his seidr to change the security cameras and also put a spell over the door to keep anyone else from coming in.

Echo noticed that instead of putting her lunch through the slot, he typed in the code to open the cell door and stepped into the small holding area first. She raised an eyebrow as she watched him shut the outer door before opening the inner one and stepping into the glass cell with her.

Loki noticed as he began walking over towards her at the table, that she seemed to shrink in on herself a little and froze when he came right next to her. He put her plate down on front of her, then took the seat next to her at the table.

Echo just stared at her plate of food, unsure with Loki being so close.

‘Are you not hungry today?’ He asked calmly, yet still with a slight firmness to his tone.

‘Why… Why are you in here? Is it not too risky?’ She asked quietly.

‘No. I’m not scared of you, Echo. I know you won’t hurt me, will you?’ He asked confidently.

She shook her head and looked back down at the table, but still didn’t eat yet. She felt really nervous, but slightly flustered too with Loki right by her.

‘I… I don’t mean to hurt anyone… But I won’t hurt you.’ She whispered.

Loki grinned. He reached out and gently touched her hand, making her jump and gasp as she moved back in her chair a bit, snatching her hand back as if he had burned her.

‘It’s alright, Echo. You know I won’t hurt you either, don’t you?’ He reached out for her again, but this time to cup her cheek and she completely froze at his touch.

He brushed his thumb against her cheek slowly, making her eyes flutter shut and she let out a shaky breath. He knew that she wasn’t used to being touched in a gentle manner, or at all in years. But when she was experimented on, he knew it won’t have been nice touches she received then.

‘I… know.’ She said wobbly, and a tear escaped from her eye and rolled down her cheek, but Loki wiped it away with his thumb.

‘So you’ve no need to be scared, darling. And I’m not worried about you hurting me, because I know you’re a good girl for me.’ He purred.

Echo felt her stomach flip, she opened her eyes to look at him and about melted under his intense gaze.

What was it about him?

‘Now, you best eat up. Don’t want you wasting away to nothing.’ Loki said and pulled his hand back, motioning to her lunch.

Echo nodded and picked up her sandwich. But her stomach was just in knots and the butterflies were very active as she tried to force the food down.

‘The team are going to be working hard to try and find a way to help you. Bruce and Tony are hopeful they’ll be able to heal that lesion in your brain, to help with your outbursts.’ Loki said softly when she was almost finished eating.

‘Really?’ Echo’s eyes widened in hope.

‘Mmhmm.’ Loki nodded. ‘But you’re going to have to try hard to contain your emotions in the meantime around the others, so you don’t hurt them while they try to help.’

Echo put the last little bit of sandwich down on her plate and she looked down at her lap. ‘I’ll try, but I just can’t help it.’

‘I know, but I will be helping you with that. Ok?’

She looked back up at him and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

Loki didn’t spend much longer in the cell with her, as he wasn’t sure when the team would be back. So he headed out not long after she finished her lunch. But he was pleased he was making big progress with her already.

-

‘How are things going with Echo?’ Thor asked Loki that evening after he returned from giving her dinner.

‘Good.’ Was all Loki said.

Thor rolled his eyes. ‘Are you making progress with her? Is she opening up more?’ Thor asked, wanting more information.

‘Yes, I’d say she is. I went into the cell with her to give her lunch today.’ He decided to tell him.

‘You did what?’ Thor shot up in shock.

‘Calm down, brother. I can handle her. It seemed to help as she opened up more to me, knowing that I wasn’t worried about her hurting me. I think she trusts me.’

Thor ran a hand down his face. ‘Do the others know you went into her cell?’

‘No. And it’s probably best it stays that way. I am making progress with her and I don’t want that to be put at risk by them freaking out and stopping me from seeing her. So please, keep your big mouth shut. For Echo’s sake.’ Loki growled at him.

‘Ok… I won’t tell.’ Thor sighed and sat down again. ‘But I wish you hadn’t done that, that was very risky. She could have killed you.’

‘Wouldn’t have happened. I’m too strong for her. Besides, she seems timid with me. It’s fine.’ Loki assured him.

Thor shook his head. ‘On your own head be it, if it goes wrong.’

-

Loki started going into her cell more and more over the following few days, mainly to give her any meals. He’d sit at the table with her while she ate, and would make light conversation with her. She grew more comfortable around him every time.

He would often touch her when he was in, usually stroking her cheek or giving her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder or arm. She seemed to like the contact.

‘How old were you when Hydra kidnapped you?’ Loki asked.

He saw her tense up, but she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before answering.

‘I was nine when they took me.’ She said quietly.

Loki’s eyes widened. ‘You are thirty, and you escaped from them six years ago, correct?’

Echo nodded. Loki was shocked that she had been tortured and experimented on for fifteen years.

‘That must have been really tough. I am sorry you’ve had to go through that.’ He said sadly. ‘How did you escape?’

He knew it was tough for her to be talking about this, that it was a big trigger. But he wanted to see if she really could control her rage around him, so he kept asking risky questions. He knew if it had been any of the others asking, she’d have ripped their heads off long by now.

‘There were four of us that escaped together. While we were being moved to a different facility, we took advantage of the transport. They weren’t as experienced in dealing with us, so were easier to take down. Plus, I’d been concealing how strong I really was. I knew it myself, I could feel it. But I kept it tame, as I knew if they knew it would be worse for me. And it worked in my favour, they weren’t expecting it at all.’ As she spoke, she kept her head down and Loki saw her scratching at the back of her hands with her nails.

‘Good girl for telling me. You’re very brave, being able to open up to me. I know it’s not easy for you to speak about it, having to think back.’ Loki purred softly and he reached out to brush his thumb against her lower lip, making her melt and she stopped scratching at her hands.

She then surprised him slightly by asking about him and Asgard, what it was like. So Loki told her about Asgard, noting how her eyes lit up when he described the place and its beauty.

‘Perhaps I will take you there someday.’ Loki said with what looked like a genuine smile.

Echo smiled widely. ‘That would be amazing.’

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

89 for JaLyn 👉👈 🥺

You got:

I do not apologize for the amount of Drake Bell songs on my wrapped playlist, but you have been warned.

"I'm in love with Lynette!"

James covered his mouth, and his eyes widened. This didn't come as a surprise to his friends. They knew the brunette's feelings for the Kat's Crew dancer. The singer bent backward for her unintentionally, or maybe it was intentional. James spent most of his time with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, but now his time is divided between his friends and Lynette. He takes every excuse to see her.

"Okay?" Logan didn't look up from his homework.

"Aren't you guys going to gasp or say this is sacrilegious because Kat's Crew was brought on to replace us?" James pouted and crossed his arms. "I'm like Romeo announcing his love for Juliet."

"Dude, you are not star-crossed lovers." Kendall was lying on the orange couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

"Not true! Our bands will never get along, and it'll tear our love to shreds!" James put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically.

The door to 2J squeaked open, and James snapped his head towards the door. He grinned when he saw Lynette standing there. Her purple cropped leather jacket was his favorite article of clothing she owned since his favorite color was purple, but it was stylish.

"There's an event at the boardwalk, and Ronnie is busy, apparently." She shot Kendall a sarcastic glare. "James, do you want to come with me?"

"Us? Alone?" James swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Alone? No, Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay are coming too, but it's not like we'll be in this massive group. Kat's mom has a lot of room in her minivan." Lynette leaned against the doorway.

James didn't bother grabbing a jacket as he practically raced out of the apartment. Lynette stayed behind momentarily, trying to process how fast the brunette moved.

"Nothing below the waist," Kendall commented with a knowing look.

"What does that- " Lynette's shoulders scrunched up, and she shut the door quickly.

James was practically squished against the door with Lynette at his side. Kat rode in the front because it was her mom's van. Jay Jay and Shay were glued to their phones while Lynette bobbed her head to the faint sound of music playing over the radio. James had not interacted with Kat's Crew since their first interaction when Gustavo pitted them against each other to take his last remaining slot. Of course, Gustavo would never give up on Big Time Rush. He wanted to scare them because no one was taking this seriously.

He learned from Ronnie that Kat's Crew had left Hawk Records, and Griffin welcomed the girls back to Rocque Records with open arms. Lynette was a background singer, but her strength was dancing. She preferred it compared to singing with the other three girls. James couldn't understand why someone would like dancing better than singing, but he would never ask her why if it seemed like he was judging her.

For some reason, the brunette wasn't expecting the boardwalk to be crowded. He didn't know what to expect when he heard about the carnival. Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay separated from the group when they left the car, leaving Lynette and James. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He squeaked when she took his hand and led him through the crowds. Even if it wasn't anything more than platonic, James couldn't deny holding hands with her made him happy. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach.

Lynette didn't mind the crowds. She mentally prepared herself for the number of people on the car ride. Holding James' hand was a way to ground herself. It was also just lovely to hold his hand. It fit in hers like a puzzle piece.

"Oh! Let's go here!"

She pointed to one of the stalls, and her eyes lit up. It was one of those stalls where the objective was to pop as many balloons as possible. James was a bit uneasy, but he walked over with her. He could have been better at these types of games back home. There were far too many stuffed animal prizes he could never win. But, for some reason, he was determined to win something.

He gave the carney the money in exchange for three darts, which felt heavy in his hand. If Logan had been there, he would have said the darts were weighted, and the game was rigged, but James was a bit naive. With Lynette watching, he felt even more nervous. What if he screwed up? What if he hit her with one of the darts? What if he hit himself with one of the darts instead? He took a shaky breath and threw the first dart.

The balloon pop was like an explosion, and it startled him. He threw the other two darts with a bit more confidence than before. One of them managed to pop two balloons, which seemed like they could have been more logistically possible, but James wasn't the logical one. He got to choose one of the prizes and noticed how intently Lynette was staring at that big, fluffy dog.

The girl squealed when he handed her the large German Shepard. She giggled and hugged it to her chest.

"This is awesome! Thank you!"

"Yeah, of course!" The singer coughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. Could she see him blushing?

[psychabolition]

I just wanted to share some of my experiences with the psychiatric system, if that’s ok.

When I was a teen I was in and out of a stabilization unit for a couple months for repeat suicide attempts. During my time there I met a trans guy who I later discovered had been admitted for homicidal thoughts (fairly common, not really something I was alarmed about). What was alarming however was that he had been kept under near constant sedation for over a week. They’d kept him so heavily sedated that his heart had stopped twice and they’d had to bring in poison control, who finally told them after the third time they showed up that they had to stop or they were gonna kill him. They’d justified doing this by saying he was violent, but upon being brought out of sedation, he just wasn’t. Not once did he attack anyone or even threaten to do so. He was literally one of the nicest people there. He was also 14 fucking years old.

At the same hospital, a four year old was admitted for unknown reasons. I’d spotted him earlier in the day when he first arrived asking where his nana was. For whatever reason, he was put on the same hallway as me for the day, probably while they waited for a slot to open up in the children’s unit. That night, he started crying, asking where his nana was and screaming for help. Obviously just scared because he didn’t know where he was or why he was there. In response, the nurses started loudly complaining that they weren’t allowed to sedate him.

At one point during my stay, I had a bad anemic episode and stood up too fast on my way to talk to a doctor. By the time I was standing in front of him, my vision was blurring. I told him this, and he stood there and watched as I completely blacked out, lost my balance, and tripped into a nearby countertop. When I got my vision back, he was still standing there, and he asked if I was “done yet.” He thought I was faking something for attention despite literally having a document in his hand that said I was severely anemic.

Another girl was prone to passing out due to POTS, and when she had an episode that caused her to fall and only narrowly avoid hitting her head on the concrete floor, she got a similar “faking it for attention” treatment despite her condition being well documented.

A different trans guy had a rare condition that caused his ligaments to be extremely brittle, and his shoulder would frequently get dislocated and would sometimes require surgery to fix. He had this happen while he was my roommate, and instead of sending him to the main hospital’s ER to get him treated, they tried telling him to “just suck it up”. And when that obviously didn’t help, they had a random nurse come and try to pop it back into place, only to make it much worse. It was only after his shoulder had been out of place for almost 36 hours that they finally sent him to the ER.

When I got out of that horrible hospital, I was referred to a psychiatrist who kept prescribing me antidepressants, mood stabilizers, insomnia medications, etc etc. Whenever I’d say “hey, these medications aren’t working,” rather than taking me off the meds or switching me from one to another, they’d just add a new one. By the time they randomly stopped returning my calls so I could refill my prescriptions, I was on 12 different medications, most of them at their maximum allowed dosages, and none of which actually helped me.

As I mentioned, my psychiatrist randomly stopped returning my calls. Around that time, I moved out of the abusive household I’d been living in and started therapy. When I finally ran out of my medications, nothing happened. They’d told me quitting them cold turkey could put me into horrible depressive episodes and make me suicidal yadda yadda yadda, but if anything I got better after stopping them. The meds hadn’t been helping at all, because the problem wasn’t any kind of chemical imbalance, it was the fact that I was in an abusive household. Something I had repeatedly told them was probably the case.

Feel free to ignore this if you don’t wanna post it, I just kinda feel like shouting into the void about this and your blog seems like the kinda place that might find these horror stories actually useful.

Fuck psychiatry . Its so obvious that this whole institution isnt there to help us . Thank you for sharing your experiences .

[domxmarvel]

Red and gold

Masterlist

Pairing: Janai x Female!Reader

Slot: Horns

Since Xadia and the human kingdoms were now at peace,you had spent your time exploring. Eventually you decided to stay at lux aurea and do everything you could to help. During the last two years you spent a lot of time with their queen,who you quickly developed feelings for. But you were too scared to confess,lucky she did before you could. So you were now dating the queen of lux aurea. Over those two years you learned a lot about elves but there was so much you still didn’t know,one of those were the rings that some elves wore around their horns. Some had them and some didn’t,but you just assumed that they were for decoration. Until one day you happen to ask Kazi.

“Why don’t you wear those rings around your horns?”

“Because I’m not married” They looked up at you and the silence said everything “You don’t know? Those rings are like your human wedding rings,except we wear them around our horns” You didn’t know why your next thought was or why you said it outloud without thinking.

“Are there any other wedding customs?” They looked even more confused and in a split second they’re faces turned from confusion to shock.

“Are you going to-”

“Shh,not so loud” Kazi closed the book and stood up.

“Follow me,we have a lot to go over” 

Over the next week Kazi taught you everything about elven wedding ceremonies. But your thoughts kept wandering to the rings,you managed to get the same metal that Janai’s crown was made of,and kept it hidden so she wouldn't see it. You knew you couldn’t make them here,she’d immediately know so you needed to make them somewhere else. You packed your stuff and started thinking about what to say,but you panicked when she caught you packing. 

“Are you leaving?”

“There’s an emergency back home that I have to take care of” You felt bad about lying but you also didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

“Oh do you need any help?”

“No,it’ll be fine. I should be back in a couple of days,don’t run off with someone else before I get back” She laughed.

“As long as you don’t” She wrapped her arms around your waist,pulling you closer to her. 

“Not unless she’s a sunfire elf named Janai” You laughed before you kissed her,still laughing when you let go. 

***

Three days later you returned having made the rings,with some help from the jewel maker back in your hometown. You made both of them by hand,carving every detail into the metal and adding the wine red gem to the middle. They were finally done and you could head back to Janai. Who welcomed you back with open arms,hugging you as she picked you up off the ground. 

“I missed you”

“I was gone for four days” She rolled her eyes at you “I missed you too. Can we talk somewhere alone” She led you back to her room,your mind wandering to how you’d ask. You were so nervous and she noticed.

“Is something wrong?” She asked as she closed the door to her room,and now you were panicking whether or not you should ask. Looking at her you realized you didn’t make them to abc out now. 

“Nothing’s wrong. But I do have something for you,close your eyes” She did as you asked,you took the box out of your bag. “Put your hands out” You placed the box in her hands. “You can open your eyes now”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a gift for you”

“You didn’t have to get me anything”

“Just open it” Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open.

“Y/N,I love them but you know that-”

“I know,Janai, will you marry me?”

“Yes,I will.” She kissed you before her eyes looked at the rings,trying to take in every detail. “Where did you get these,if I may ask?”

“I made them” Her mouth hung open again,making you laugh.

“Y/N they’re beautiful,thank you” She put them on,smiling at you “How do I look?”

“Perfect,like always”