#i forget they know where i live… its almost like i give them a lot of money or someth smh

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

lego sent a catalogue to my house so i did what i had to and took pictures of all the ninjago pages

[halsteadlover]

𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Could you please write a derek Morgan x reader smut where the reader and derek and the team obvi are on a case and while interviewing neighbors in the apartments the reader makes a stupid bet like "I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his 20s" and then it's the opposite and when they are back in the car derek makes the reader pay up but with her panties and when she goes to get them back at the end of the day it leads to smut.

• Warnings: a really brief mention of a murder case (it’s just a sentence), dirty talk, cuss words, making out, semi-public foreplay (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up you guyssss!!)

• Word count: 5.5K

• A/N: my first Derek fic 😭 I hope you like it guys, please let me know what do you think about it and also comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Sending lots of love to everyone ❤️

What part of your brain thought it was a good idea to make a bet with Derek Morgan?

You didn’t even know why you did it, it must’ve been the pleasure of losing because there was no way on earth you would’ve won.

You and Morgan were about to go interview a witness for a case you were working on: a serial killer who was killing his victims by setting fires. You were walking next to each other while you thought of some way to make what was going to be a long and boring afternoon, interesting.

You and Derek had a, well… Particular relationship, to say the least.

Months prior you and him had started to have sex. It started out as a purely physical thing as you had always been very attracted to each other, but as time went on you found yourselves spending time together and enjoying each other’s company even outside of a sexual sphere.

Your relationship, both from a working and private point of view, had always been characterized by a playful banter, mischievous jokes, by the constant flirting so it wasn’t strange you both often found yourselves making bets aimed to make lose the other’s mind.

In fact, it was at that moment that you came up with an idea for a bet, however forgetting he took them so seriously it seemed like his life depended on it, especially since most of the time he won, and the penances were of a sexual nature. Of course you didn’t mind losing one bit.

“I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his twenties,” you said, pointing to the apartment where you were heading, ready to question the witness. He grinned and glanced at you, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Oh baby girl, you still don’t understand it’s a losing battle?”

“What’s the matter Agent Morgan, you afraid of losing?” You challenged him with the deliberate pleasure of teasing him and in fact he immediately gave in to your provocation.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. You arrived in front of the apartment door that had the number ‘23’ on its sign. You were standing facing each other while he thought about the penance, he would’ve make you do if you – most likely – lost.

Another evil, mocking grin appeared on his lips, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “You’ll give me your panties when you lose.”

“If I lose.”

“When. But you can still back out.”

“Never.”

He held out a hand towards you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe, checking you out without shame. Over time you had learned to understand what he was thinking, what was hidden behind his look and you almost caught fire because you immediately recognized that look, it was the one he gave you when he was imagining you naked in every possible and imaginable position.

And in fact, you weren’t wrong.

Just the thought of having your panties in his pocket, walking around and smelling you, was enough to make his dick stir in his pants.

You knew the odds of you winning the bet were slim, but your competitive nature made you shake Morgan’s hand, and he gave you another one of his panty-ripping smiles.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, don’t take the victory for granted.”

He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I would never dare but be realistic darling. Do you know how low the odds are?”.

“What if I win?”.

“You won’t.”

“What if I win?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugged, very sure he’d win. “You’ll choose the penance.”

You thought about it for a moment and a mischievous smile appeared on your lips this time. “I’ll do a strip tease and a lap dance.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “How is that a penance? Baby I’d drop on my knees right now to make this happen...”

“…But you’ll be handcuffed, you won’t be able to touch me and I won’t make you come.”

He opened his mouth wide, feeling his dick twitch just at the thought. He had to force himself to think of something else since he didn’t want to question a witness with a raging hard on but it was awfully difficult when all he could do was imagine you strip teasing and grinding on his lap. “Fuck I don’t know if I should win or lose.”

“If you want to end up with blue balls then you have to hope to lose.”

You knocked on the apartment door, still maintaining eye contact with Derek and trying to hold back your laughter since you knew exactly what he was thinking. You took your eyes away from him only to let them travel down his body and to the crotch of his pants which was clearly prominent at that moment. You bit your lip as you looked back at his face and he glared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, feeling the situation getting even worse. Damn it, he felt like a damn horny teenager.

Before you could respond to his comment the door opened, revealing a person who couldn’t be more different from the object of your bet. He in fact was a she, a lady who couldn’t have been less than sixty years old.

Your smile dropped as the one on Derek’s face grew even more and, as you had already said, you wondered what part of your brain had thought it was a good idea to make that bet.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” she looked skeptically at both of you.

“Oh yes ma’am, you just made my day so much better,” he replied softly but glancing at you. “We’re FBI agents, may we ask you few questions?”

Over the next hour and a half you interviewed other witnesses near the fire scene and on your way to the car, Derek wouldn’t stop trying to get close to you and touch you.

“Derek stop it! We’re in public! God you’re so unprofessional,” you slapped one of his hands away that had been squeezing your ass for the last couple of minutes, trying not to laugh.

“There’s nothing professional about what we do, baby girl,” he replied with mock annoyance, “Plus I can’t help it, I can’t wait to rip your panties off.”

“Nuh uh mister, the deal was that I have to give you my panties not you taking them off me.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes as you approached the car but before you could get in he grabbed your hand and turned you towards him. He placed his hands on your face and as he pushed your back against the car door he crushed his lips on yours.

He didn’t care about passers-by in any way, in people’s eyes you might have looked like a couple who was passionately making out.

After the first few seconds of surprise, you immediately kissed him back, parting your lips and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew it was totally unprofessional to kiss your colleague in broad daylight while you were doing your job but all it took was for him to get close for you to lose your mind, no longer able to think clearly.

Your hands moved down his chest to encircle his waist, trying to pull him closer to you than his body already was. Your mouths moved in sync while he seemed to want to suck his soul out of you and although you were now used to kissing him, every time it was as if it was the first.

You almost moaned into the kiss, your body already on fire, wanting more. You wanted him so badly, you wanted his hands, his fingers, his mouth and his tongue all over you.

“Derek please…” you sighed when you broke away, his face still dangerously close to yours.

“Get in the car princess,” he ordered and his voice was so low and seductive that if he had asked you to give him a blowjob right there on the sidewalk you would’ve dropped on your knees without the slightest hesitation.

He opened the door for you and you giggled like a teenager before getting in, thanking him as you watched him walk around the car before getting in too.

“I would’ve fucked you in the car here and now if we weren’t in public. You’re so fucking hot baby,” he whispered against your lips after moving closer to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “But I’ll settle taking your panties off for now.”

He placed a hand on your breast and groped it before sliding it across your stomach to your jeans-covered pussy. You moaned as he began to touch you, making you squirm under his expert fingers.

“I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you honey?” He continued to tease you.

“Fuck Derek… They’ll see us…”

“You’re right,” he replied, stopping touching you, causing you to moan and grunt at the same time. “No one should look at what is mine.”

God Derek Morgan and the things he made you feel. You were starting to really hate him.

“You’re having so much fun aren’t you?”

He started the car but not before throwing you one last mocking and sexy as hell grin. “You have no idea how much.”

You squeezed your legs together in anticipation feeling the urge and desire grow more and more. You continued to look at him as he drove, observing every feature of his perfect profile with your hungry eyes.

How could someone be so perfect?

And it didn’t help he had one hand resting on your inner thigh as his thumb was stroking dangerously close to your intimate area. You didn’t know whether to hate him, to beg him to go higher or both but certainly the smug expression on his face made you want to punch him.

Derek drove to a hidden, dead end road, not caring the rest of the team was probably waiting to hear from both you and him.

He kissed you breathless again, threading a hand into your hair. But he didn’t stay there for long as he moved down your chest again, wasting no time in groping your breasts again, until he reached your pussy again.

“God Derek you’re driving me crazy,” you hissed as you struggled to keep control. He kissed you again and unbuttoned your pants and you lifted your hips before your brain could even process the movement, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. You took off your shoes, slipping your pants off.

He slipped his hands into your underwear and a loud moan escaped your lips that Derek felt right in his dick. “As I imagined… So fucking wet.”

“Fuck yes just like that,” you sighed as his fingers drew circles on your clit. You gripped the sides of the seat as if searching for a leverage, pleasure flowing through your veins.

He knew where to touch you, he knew HOW to touch you, what to do to make you lose your mind and control.

“I'm dying to taste this pussy, look at you soaking up my fingers,” he whispered in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking on your skin but being careful not to leave any marks. The team already didn’t give you any respite suspecting there was something between you, he certainly didn’t want to give them clear proof.

Two of his fingers slipped easily inside your wet pussy, curling inside you and touching that spongy spot that made you moan and thinking you were about to ascend to heaven.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes,” you kissed him, spreading your legs even more to give him more access.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl loves being so dirty, letting me finger this pussy in public.”

You dipped your head back in pleasure, feeling the orgasm already building inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and you grunted at the loss and took off your panties, bringing them to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent that drove him so crazy: you and sex. “Now I really don’t know how I’m going to go through the whole day without being hard knowing I have your panties here,” he spoke up as he stuffed them into his pocket. “But we should go back.”

What?

“Derek you can’t leave me like this!”.

“Oh I can and I will, we shouldn’t let the others think we might be doing something shouldn’t we?”

“You fucking piece of shit.”

He burst out laughing and you nearly punched him in his handsome face.

You were furious. Irritated.

You were furious, irritated but above all horny.

After that little stunt he had done in the car Derek had really left you like that, without an orgasm and with a mad desire to fuck.

The rest of the day was torture, especially having to work with other people while pretending you didn’t feel like you were on the edge the whole time. You didn’t spare Morgan some dirty looks after which he had to force himself not to laugh but he didn’t spare you those languid looks full of lust either.

It wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for him either since, unlike you, couldn’t hide his excitement so easily. Knowing he had your panties in his pocket and the memory of your wet pussy were giving him no respite.

In reality, you both loved that little game, teasing and torturing each other until the other lost his mind, even if… To be honest, wearing jeans without underwear was complete torture.

At the end of the day, when you were finally all in your own room, you took the opportunity to take a shower and put on a dress and the sexy lingerie you had put in your bag before leaving for the new case.

You giggled just thinking about Derek’s reaction.

You went to his room, knocking twice before he opened the door making your jaw drop and almost fall to the floor when you realized he was naked and only had a towel around his waist.

His body was still wet, sign he had just gotten out of the shower, the drops running down his sculpted chest that you wanted to lick off one by one.

“Oh man…” He sighed. “You’re breathtaking baby,” he began, shamelessly scanning your body from head to toe, a smirk on his lips. “I was wondering when you were coming.”

“You always opening the door like this, Agent Morgan?” You asked ironically before entering his room without even waiting for him to invite you.

“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going baby girl? Where is my kiss?” He scolded you, almost truly offended after closing the door behind him.

You giggled, but unable to take your eyes off his body and stop them from wandering hungrily over his figure.

“No, dry yourself first and then I’ll kiss you,” you replied before going to sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hands behind you on the mattress and tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

He didn’t answer but came closer to you and placed two fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your head and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

“Jealous Agent Y/Ln?” He whispered an inch from your lips, referring to your initial question after making you get up from the bed.

“Not even a little bit, it was just an innocent question agent Morgan.”

Absolutely. You were 100% jealous.

But you knew from the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted, mischievous smile he didn’t believe it one bit. “You know, being a profiler I thought you were better at hiding emotions. Lies don’t look good on you pretty girl.”

“That would be true if I had told a lie but that’s not the case, I’m not jealous at all,” you said with a confident tone as your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips. He was so close and so tempting you felt like you were already losing patience.

“To answer the question, no, I don’t answer to anyone. Just you.”

“You? Derek Morgan?”.

He chuckled. “Strange right? But it seems like you’ve done some weird witchcraft on me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You already got in my pants, no need to be cheesy,” you retorted, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “Always so cynical. What should I do with you?”

“Give me back my panties?”.

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what the word ‘lose’ means?”.

“If I had known you liked them so much I would’ve bought you a new pair to wear you know.”

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”. He grabbed your face with one hand, his mouth dangerously close to yours but never touching it.

You nodded with a smirk as you watched as his eyes were fixed on your lips. “Maybe you might like what I have now better.”

You took a step back and the look of pure confusion on his face was replaced by astonishment when he saw your hands lower the thick straps of your dress down your arms, then lowering the side zip and letting the dress fall around your feet.

The look of shock on his face was something you’d never forget.

Derek widened his mouth and eyes, letting his hungry gaze travel along your body wrapped in lace lingerie, studying every curve and inch of your skin. A warm feeling spread in your lower abdomen and it was amazing how just the way he looked at you was enough to turn you on.

“Holy shit…” he breathed out, “You… Are… You… Holy fuck…” he continued stuttering, unable to form a single meaningful sentence.

“Wow did I really manage to surprise Agent Morgan?” You giggled, your cheeks flushed and stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, knowing you had such an effect on him. Derek Morgan – the man who with a single smile and a look could’ve make rows and rows of women fall at his feet – was drooling over you, looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.

“I’ll answer you when some blood returns to my brain.”

Your gaze trailed down his body and your insides clenched at the sight of his prominent erection beneath the towel around his waist. Your mouth watered just thinking about what was underneath that single fabric, imagining his dick in your mouth, in every hole in your body as he filled you completely.

“You look spectacular Y/n, my god” he murmured, his chocolate brown eyes still on your body and never on your face. You could see him struggling in not knowing what to pay more attention to, your breasts which were perfectly highlighted by the lace that gave that see-through effect while it showed the shadow of your nipples, if the hold-ups that surrounded your thighs that Derek wanted nothing more than to mark and bite or your pussy also covered in matching lace in which he wanted to dive and feed on it until he drown himself to death.

Derek moved closer to you, closing the small distance between the two of you. “Turn around. Show me this beautiful ass that torments me in my sleep.”

The tone of his voice alone made you almost beg him to do anything he wanted. You didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around, your skin on fire as you felt his penetrating gaze on you as he observed and studied every millimeter of your body.

You heard Derek exhale a deep breath behind you. “A fucking goddess. You’re absolutely mesmerizing.”

A rush of shivers gave you goosebumps as he placed his rough hands on your arms, stroking them slowly before moving up and moving your hair from your shoulders and letting it fall along your shoulder blades, leaving your neck exposed. His lips began to plant kisses on your skin and the mere contact made you sigh and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?” he whispered in your ear and you clenched your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your palms in an attempt to release the frustration you felt. Every second that passed while he didn’t touch you as you wanted there was a shred of your sanity that was shattered.

You shook your head, realizing you hadn’t answered yet.

His hands went down your arms again, then moving up your hips until they reached your ass. You let out a gasp when his fingers tightened around the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, groping it with the sole purpose of torturing you and leaving you eager for more.

“God the things I want do to you baby, you can’t even imagine.”

“Do it Derek, do whatever you want to me… I need you.”

“I love feeling you so desperate for me.”

An empty feeling came over you as his fingers let go of your ass, moving to your hips. However, you moaned when he pushed his body against yours, pressing his erection against the curves of your ass and grinding against you without shame or restraint.

“Fuck Derek,” you murmured, now on the verge of losing your mind.

One of his hands ended up around your throat, forcing you to bend your head and rest it on his shoulder while the other cupped one of your breasts, palpating it over the top of your bra. You sighed, rubbing your ass against his hard dick as you couldn’t wait for it to stretch your pussy.

“That’s what you do to me, you make me so hard I can’t even think straight anymore.” He pinched your hard nipple from above the fabric. “You have no idea how much I want to rip this off of you but I know you’d kill me,” he chuckled in your ear.

“I don’t give a shit.” You blurted out, not evens embarrassed about how fast you said it.

“What do you want baby? Talk to me.”

God it was so damn hard talking when you were so horny you couldn’t even remember your name, the denied orgasm making things worse.

“You. Fuck me, please. I need you so badly Derek.”

He tightened his hand lightly around your neck, cupping your chin then turning your head towards him and before you knew it he slammed his lips onto yours, sucking the breath from your body as his tongue explored your mouth in a sloppy, deep kiss.

He slowly slid the fingers of his other hand – that until a few seconds before were on your breast – along your chest, your lower abdomen, touching your needy and drenched pussy with his fingertips. You whined during the kiss, spontaneously lifting your hips to try and meet his fingers.

God you were hating him at that moment.

“I can smell your wetness from here, is my baby horny for me?” he whispered on your lips swollen and red from the impetuous kiss.

“I’ll fucking kill you right now Morgan I swear to god.”

He laughed and your stomach clenched in on itself. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I’m going to fuck your brains out, so good you won’t even be able to get up when I’m done with you.” This time it was your pussy that clenched when you squeezed your legs together for some friction. Derek let go of your throat and began to play with your panties. Your breath hitched as he slowly began to lower them, trailing them down your legs.

“I think I’ll keep these too,” he whispered even as his voice came loud and clear to your ears. You turned your head to the side so you could look at him and let out a ragged sigh when you saw him kneeling behind you. His eyes shone under the light of the hotel room as they looked at you with so much intensity that they alone would’ve been enough to set you on fire.

He left a kiss on your ass, making you gasp to the point of embarrassment as he bit your skin and groped your now bare ass. “One day I’ll fuck this pretty little ass too and you’ll love every second of it.”

“You can start by fucking my pussy now.”

He chuckled again as he stood up. He placed a hand on your heated back, inviting you to lean on the bed in front of you and you obeyed, resting your hands on the bed and giving him a perfect view of your ass.

“I can see from here how wet you are baby girl,” he moved closer to you, his bare thighs touching yours and then you realized he had removed the towel from his waist.

God have mercy on me.

“I’ll eat this beautiful pussy later but now all I can think about is fucking her so good,” he said as his fingers brushed against you and this little contact, combined with his dirty words, made you squirm with anticipation. “After all, you deserve it after being such a good girl all day.”

You felt him place his tip near your entrance and you both moaned as he slid his dick against your folds, wetting it with your fluids. He provoked you, tortured you with every motion, it was what he was best at, he knew which points to touch to drive you crazy and leave you painfully longing.

“Derek please, I want you so much,” you whined in a pathetic tone full of lust and desire as he continued to penetrate you with just the tip and then pull out. You hated him and wanted him at the same time, so much it hurt.

“What do you want, princess?” His hands gripped your hips and he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your skin before leaving damp, wet kisses all over your back.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth before lining his dick up with your entrance and finally filling you.

“Oh God yes, you feel so god Derek.” You panted vigorously, your heart beating so hard it almost stopped as you felt his soft and especially bare skin touching every corner of you.

He remained still for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to maintain control of his body. You were so wet and it felt so good being inside you, Derek feared that with just one push he would’ve come on the spot.

“Baby please… Move…”

Baby.

Fuck.

That simple little word had no business making his insides twist like he had. You were used to calling each other nicknames, it wasn’t new, but there was something in that ‘baby’ you said: perhaps it was the vulnerability with which you pronounced it, breathless and as if he was the only one who could save you, the way your voice was so full of desire.

Derek pulled out before thrusting into you again with a strong thrust so deep if it hadn’t been for his hands firmly gripping your hips you would’ve probably fallen forward.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell you drive me crazy,” he breathed out, head tilted back and eyes closed as his dick pounded into you like he was angry.

You tried to formulate a meaningful sentence but as you opened your lips only gasps and moans came out. He was fucking you so deeply that with each thrust you felt a piece of your brain coming out of your head and your soul out of your body.

Exactly like he promised.

All the hidden frustration made its way and exploded like a time bomb, not much time passing until even the orgasm began to build inside you.

Your face was pressed into the sheets of the bed, your breathing heavy and quickening as your hands clenched the fabric into a fist. “Derek…” you whimpered in pleasure as you pushed your pelvis towards him with each thrust. It didn’t seem to be enough though, you wanted more and more.

One of his hands continued to hold your hips firmly while he slid the other along your back, until he reached your hair which he tightened in a fist forcing you to lift your head. His moans and groans sounded like music to your ears and you couldn’t contain the joy of knowing it was you who made him feel this way, it was you who made him lose control.

“Fuck I could stay inside you forever, you take me so well. This pussy was made for me,” he groaned as the tip of his dick hit your G-spot, making you see stars. You wanted to answer but when you opened your mouth all that came out were moans and sighs. “Just for me… You understand?”

“Just you baby, only you,” you babbled while loudly moaning, not caring one bit if someone could hear you having sex.

His lips kissed your shoulder, his tongue traced every inch of skin he could reach. “That’s right pretty girl…” he groaned in your ear, his sentence interrupted by another moan. “Fuck yeah you’re mine.”

“Holy shit baby… I’m about to come…” You managed to say and the orgasm that hit you full on like a truck gave you no mercy, didn’t let you escape as it sucked away your ability to breath. If it wasn’t for Derek’s hand still in your hair you would’ve collapsed on the mattress.

His thrusts became unhinged, even more out of control than they were before and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax too. How could he resist? There was no chance, not when your pussy was tightening around his dick in the throes of orgasmic spasms, leaving him no escape.

Derek exploded inside you, emptying himself into you until the last drop of his seed filled your pussy, then leaking from your entrance and sliding down your thighs as he pulled out.

“Shit,” he breathed as you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he collapsed next to you. “You destroy me baby, how do you manage to do this every single time?”

You mumbled something nonsensical in response, eyes closed and too tired to say anything. He chuckled and stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could get a good look at you.

You were so beautiful, ethereal, so mesmerizing it hurt and seeing that happy and pleased look on your face almost sent him to his knees, internally promising himself he’d fight every single person on earth just to always see you so relaxed and happy.

“How many women do you tell this?” you managed to say, opening one eye and keeping the other closed and a flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw the breathtaking smile he was looking at you with.

“If you think there is someone capable of making me feel what you feel, you’re very wrong. Like I already said, I don’t know what strange witchcraft you did to me but you really hooked me baby.” He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned towards you, pressing small kisses across your face, neck, shoulders and all the way up to your lips. “There is no one else since you came in in my life, I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even funny.”

You opened your second eye too, suddenly not so tired anymore. “Really?”

“Why, isn’t the same for you?” he asked, his stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of a man laying a finger on you. “Please tell me no or someone help me I will kill every man who even looked at you, I’m an FBI agent and I know how to hide dead bodies in such a way that not even the families will ever find them.”

You burst out laughing, and rolled onto your back before throwing your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you and press your lips to his. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Y/n. Don’t fucking test me.”

“I’m just kidding,” your lips brushed against his before planting another small kiss on them. “There couldn’t be another man even if they forced me, you’ve really messed up my life Agent Morgan and I’m pretty much obsessed with you too.”

“That better be. We’re exclusive since the day I kissed you in that elevator,” he grumbled. “God I love when you call me baby,” he then sighed happily and the way his mood shifted so quickly made. Your fingers caressed his soft, perfect skin and he mumbled with contentment. You noticed how his pupils were so dilated the chocolate surrounding them had almost disappeared. “Mine, only mine.”

“And you’re mine darling, I’m an FBI agent too and I know a thousand ways to make deaths look like accidents.” He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you so deeply your heart almost stopped in your chest.

Derek Morgan would be the death of you, you were certain of that.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll show you how much we belong to each other princess, how much I look, think and breathe for you only.”

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❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[depthsinwords]

Could you please do gn!reader x lucifer who is very quite at first but after opening up they're like the complete opposite of before? Like frequent hand holding talking a lot and just overall very lively and absolutely adores Lucifer's rubber ducks (maybe also a creator themself?) anyways thank you and have an amazing day!

A/N - Absotutly! That’s so cute! You have an amazing day as well! :)

Pairing(s) - Lucifer x Gn!reader

W/C - fluff, sfw, slight ep 5 spoilers (it is his debut ep), not proofread…

He definitely thought you were always like that since he never saw you with anyone you were close with when you first met him.

He thought it was cute how shy you were but he wanted you to open up because he was curious about you.

You are mysterious in his eyes

He felt that if he spent more time with you he could figure you out.

On one hellish day Lucifer was working on a project (duck) out of boredom when he heard his door creak open. He turns himself in his chair to see you peaking your head in to observe him. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come closer. After you nervously move yourself into the room completely you make your way over to stand beside his chair. He gently grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him and the work desk and holds up his new invented duck closer to your face with his free hand.

“I know it’s not much but I really do love them���” he tells you with a hint of bashfulness as he uses his magic to give the illusion of it swimming in the air. You look at it in amazement and admiration as you speak quietly, “No…it’s magnificent…”

He watches with a soft smile as you admire his creation and pulls you down to where he sits, kissing your cheek gently.

When you start opening up it does come as a bit of surprise even though that was his plan from the beginning.

While he’s happy that you’re being open with him, he is not used to it and gets a little nervous or flustered by your actions.

If you grab his hand suddenly he will freeze and have to process what just happened for the first few times…

After a bit he will slowly start to get used to it, like…it will take a while…

He hasn’t had this facts of affection given to him for awhile so as much as he is super grateful, it’s still something he has to get used to again.

He absolutely loves it when he gets used to it and of course does it back tenfold!

While he could easily tell that you loved his ducks from the start…it was a shock when you gave him one that you created for the first time. Though he’ll cherish it forever! More than any other creations!

After the initial shock of realization that you also invent ducks he becomes absolutely ecstatic about it!

You two get to bounce ideas off eachother and collaborate on new types of ducks.

Sometimes when you just can’t find the creative inspiration to make the duck you hoped for, he will use his magic to make your idea come to life.

“Luci~! I need your help!” you call to him as you run up to him at his work desk, giving him a tight hug from behind. He jumps at the action but chuckles quietly, responding to you, “With what, my swan?”

You release him from the big and move beside him, holding up your almost finished rubber duck. “I think it’s quite cute but something is missing…but you always know how to make it perfect!” You explain eagerly.

He nods and take it from your hand, using his free hand to manifest his magic. As he is about to infuse it with his magic, you speak, “I forget to tell y-“ and it explodes with confetti before your eyes.

He winced in surprise and you burst out in laughter. He turns to you with a mix of shock and confusion causing you to speak through your laughter, “I’m sorry~! Pfft…what I was trying to say was that I constructed it to explode on contact with magic~…I just wanted you to look over it to fix its physicality!” You giggle at him.

He shakes his head and laughs lightly, “I think you did that on purpose, missy.” You fail to hide your smirk and decide to give yourself away with a shrug, responding in a playful tone, “Maybe I did…” He grabs your waist gently and pulls you close, giving you a light kiss on your lips. You two laugh in the kiss as he spins you around. After, you both turn back to his work desk and start on a new creation together…

I hope y’all enjoyed! I loved writing this! :)

[anaargent]

Ok but like... Five in Harry Potter PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE i know it's very unlikely but like just imagine him and his siblings in Harry Potter, with reader please 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

You caught my favorite hyperfocuses, I wrote something simple, but I would like to go into more depth in the future.

FIVE HARGREEVES X READER

You were sitting in the shade of a large willow tree, making the most of the small moment of respite with the Hargreeves siblings. You weren’t sure when or how you had gotten pulled into their mess, but you were more than grateful for it. You smiled, watching Klaus and Ben at the edge of the lake playing with a frog, levitating it back and forth.

“This is disgusting, you idiots.” Allison threw the frog away as she pulled Viktor, who was resting his feet in the icy water, away from the mischievous siblings. “Will we have to put up with this until we grow up?”

“Don’t be so optimistic, we’ll have to live with them until the grave,” Viktor said, smiling, as he hugged his sister, who was whimpering in frustration.

Not far away, Diego and Luther were in the act of interacting with what you charitably called Luego’s fan club, a medium-sized group of girls and a few boys, who seemed enchanted by the Gryffindor bigwigs. They posed and flexed their muscles while their fans sighed in amazement "this is all natural babe, you can squeeze it" Luther said showing his biceps.

It was a funny fact, as much as the grumpy old Reginald Hargreeves was a perfect example of a Slytherin, almost all of his children went to different houses. Viktor and Ben went to Hufflepuff, they were kind souls, usually the first to offer help to their brothers and friends. Diego and Luther went to Gryffindor, the hat barely touched their heads, it was quite obvious to you that the two hotheads went to the house of the impulsive and courageous. Klaus was a stranger, after about ten minutes the hat left him in Ravenclaw, along with you to your great pleasure, there was never a dull moment with someone like Klaus around. Allison had gone to Slytherin, always standing out in the class, the girl was a perfect example of talent and discipline mixed with a rebellious and independent spirit. Finally… "There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere" Five says, pulling you out of your contemplative moment, shoving a chocolate cupcake into your hand and plopping down on the grass next to you "What are you doing here alone? Don't tell me you finally realized I'm the best of them and now you just want to hang out with me" he smirks as he looks at you.

You just laugh, shaking your head "If you were any bigger your ego would fill the common room, you know that, right?" Then you stop for a moment and take in the view. Five was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, just like you, his moss green t-shirt was worn and wet from intense training, his hair was a messy wave of strands slightly damp with sweat, giving him a wild look, which perfectly matched the playful and challenging eyes of its owner.

You sighed and shook your head, not wanting to be caught dissecting every part of Five, he already had a lot of self-confidence.

"Just watching?" Five smiles, leaning closer, his breathing still labored from the tiring workout, the light puffs of air hitting your cheeks.

You contemplate for a moment, pouting as you bite into the cupcake, Five's eyes darting between your eyes and lips, he wasn't good at disguising his intentions, maybe he wasn't even trying to "wanna taste?"

Five looks at you hopefully, his mind racing with the question - what were you trying to insinuate? "I will."

You move closer to him, your shoulders touching under the cool grass, the light wind carrying Five's scent from him and intoxicating you with the mix of moss, parchment, sweat and something that was only his. Then you place the cupcake on your parted lips and quickly stand up laughing and heading over to where Klaus and Ben were still playing with floating things "Forget this loser, come here and levitate worms on Allison" Ben waves with a cute smile at you.

"We're not done here yet, sweetie, I'll see you at the Quidditch game this Saturday," you hear Five shout in the distance, and you fight the blush that rises to your cheeks.

[krittikasurya]

Some thoughts on Krittka Nakshatra (originally posted on substack and twitter)

Krittika at its best really understands how to both simultaneously enjoy and appreciate things while also being able to give critical commentary and feedback, and I think a lot of people have a hard time wrapping their heads around this level of multifaceted behavior. In a world where black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinking is common and encouraged, people often forget that two things can be true at once. Krittika natives have the creativity and flexibility to understand and implement this “two truths at once” concept into their everyday lives. People think Krittika natives are being insolent or abrasive when the native is just simply speaking on what they’ve learned, gathered, observed and experienced and being straightforward about it…taking the data they’ve accumulated and turning it into something that’s easy to digest. Absolute truths rarely exist, and Krittika exposes the complexities we experience on both a collective and individual level.

Krittika’s goal isn’t to trash things necessarily. I think the goal Krittika natives have is to help themselves and others see things in a different, profound way. Offering refreshing perspectives on many different aspects of life is something the natives take pride in. The Martian influence of the Aries portion of the nakshatra makes one very analytical and strategic. Observing and learning through action and expeirnce, the Aries side of this nakshatra knows how to take things back to the drawing board. They understand that trial and error are some of the best teachers, and that there is always room for change. The Venusian influence of the Taurus portion gives the native discernment and good taste. The discriminatory nature of Venus leaves little to no room for indifference, especially when it comes to connections, arts, and culture. Venus appreciates excellence, and Krittika will accept nothing less. Krittika serves as the bridge between the sun’s (Identity) and the moon’s (Mind) exaltation points, giving both signs vast intelligence that manifests slightly different, but one thing remains the same: The sharp, quick witted nature of the nakshatra that seeks improvement within themsleves and the world around them. In today’s society, echo chambers are growing increasingly common, creating less nuance and mental flexibility, and more groupthink. From arts to politics, the effects of all-or-nothing thinking seems almost inescapable. Mediocrity is the acceptable normal, and Krittika is on a mission to change that.

When not channeled appropriately, Krittika natives can be high strung individuals, hypercritical of both themselves and others while forgetting to appreciate the beauty of life, and the beauty within themsleves. Some constantly feel the need to “shake the table” or say what they believe others are afraid to say, not fully realizing the implications of making ego driven “critiques.” Some “critiques” can be so ego driven, that they are dowright incorrect, mean or hateful in nature. They can be prone to tunnel vision and extreme anger, especially when they feel like their way is the only way. Krittikas can be demanding, exhibiting dictator-like control over their communities which can lead to a “walking on eggshells” feeling for the people around the native. It is imperative that Krittikas don’t lose sight on what’s important: not crossing the thin line between enlightening analysis, and downright negativity.

Krittika natives experience a lot of pleasure from giving critique as well, because they believe that there’s something really cool about being able to get others to think in ways they may not have before, and introduce various perspectives on any given subject. Krittika’s shakti (power) is to purify or burn away impurities, and sharing thier critical thoughts and assessments is one of the best ways to do it in today’s world. If we as a collective are going to consume things, Krittikas believe we can and should evaluate and question what we consume. Things should be questioned more. “Impurities” should be pointed out. The status quo should be challenged in all aspects of life.

Krittika isn’t scared to point out things that are flawed and it infuriates some individuals that Krittika natives don’t just sit and “go with the flow” all the time. Krittika has a burning lust for awareness of the world we live in. Krittika knows that sometimes there will be conflict, they’ll ruffle a few feathers and invoke certain emotions that make others feel uncomfortable, but when done tactfully that has the power to change the world (however big or small you consider your world to be).

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2024 - Proud Author Spotlights

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2024

Here are some recommendations from 2024 sent in by our fandom's authors themselves. Make sure to give them much love. PS: Authors, don't be shy! Submit more Proud Author Spotlights!

~*~

I published the latest extra off my dynasty fic in March 2024, and it might be my favourite so far! Feat a lot of politics in the Wen Sect, wwx being his badass self, some ocs and a lot of Yiling siblings feels.

💙 Hope is a discipline (Something you choose)

by One_eyed_God (@oneeyedoctogod)

T, 15k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Under the harsh and merciless sun of Nightless City, Wen Ruohan falls. But even with its leader is dead, the Wen Sect must live on, to avoid the dreaded future Wei Wuxian has already lived once. And though he never expected to be the one to lead them, he will carry this duty without fail. Or: The aftermath of Wen Ruohan's death.

~*~

Hello! ☺️ First of all, thank you for running this wonderful blog!!

This is for Rewind 2024 Proud Author Spotlight. It is a 29k story I recently finished translating (I'm also the author of the original version) and I'm really glad to have been able to do this within less than a year.

It will not please everyone as it is mostly CQL-based (CQL post-canon) but it is first person Wei Ying POV and I haven't read a lot of that in this fandom, so I hope maybe some people would enjoy it!

Thank you again for everything!

Léli.

The Unsung

by Leilwen (@leilwe)

E, 29k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Zhan... would you come over the mountain with me one day? … … I would have liked for him to give me a real answer and I cursed the Lans' nocturnal almost-hibernation. … … … When Yunshen Buzhichu no longer needs me, you will be my only horizon. When I returned and lay down beside him, the crescent moon no longer looked so sickly pale.

~*~

Hi ! This is for the remind 2024, I don't know if authors can boosted their own work. But I wrote this fic for my very first RBB, and even if it ins't perfect I am very proud of it.

Convergence

by Czeriahx (@czeriah) & Sirendipity (@lwjsbedtime)

M, 77k, Wangxian

Part of Yuyu Respectarium's Reverse Big Bang!

Summary: In a world governed by the Wen Empire, the Wei Coven's Oracle prophesize the coming of a new sun. Together with its moon counterpart, they are to bring back balance to the world. That is, until the Wen Emperor send assassins to take care of the threat against their rule. [Art by Siren, Embedded in the fic !!]

~*~

My submission to the TopXian RBB event that was boosted here a few months ago. I got a wonderful prompt and art piece to write for. Links in my fic!

An AU Canon Divergence where after the betrothal with JZX is broken off, JYL becomes betrothed to WWX. The plotline is retold with this twist, leading to events both familiar and not. JYL is the pov character, navigating her new life after devastation and war, with WWX at her side. But let no one forget LWJ - WWX and JYL certainly can't, though for very different reasons.

Come along for character study fix-it fic, with a happy ending for all the main characters!

Not Unwilling

by somevariationofgay (@somevariationofgay)

E, 48k, Wangxian & Xianli

Part of the TopXian RBB

Summary: The young mistress of Yunmeng Jiang clan, raised to marry out for the benefit of her family, dutifully waits for her parents to arrange another match after her troth with the young master of Lanling Jin clan is broken. When her father decides the new betrothal will be to their sect's head disciple, she finds herself not unwilling. But the ambitions of Qishan Wen clan surge and a bloody flood overtakes Lotus Pier, changing the course of her life forever.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[promptthebear]

Kissmas Day 9

Prompt: Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader

CW: Female reader, lots and lots of swearing (It's Sandor c'mon now), reader is pregnant, some mentions of canon typical violence. If i forget anything please let me know!

A/N: Hello! This is a little different from the last few fics I wrote. I was going for like something cozy? So the pacing is a little slower and it's sort of a "not much happens but there's vibes" kind of fic. Hopefully you all enjoy it. I just really wanted to give my boy a story where he's safe, well fed, well rested, and doesn't have shit trying to kill him for like five minutes.

It was still dark when Sandor awoke, and colder than a wight’s arse. He could see the earliest light of dawn, though, through a nearby window. Pale yellow rays were starting to kiss the tops of the large, gloomy pines that encircled your cottage, and he knew it would be several hours yet before the sun would provide any proper warmth.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Sandor pushed back the furred hide that served as a blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hissed when his feet touched the floor, the chill so fierce it bit at his soles, even through the two layers of woolen socks he wore. Everyone, from great Kings to common fools, knew that Winters in the North were bitterly cold. But it was one thing to hear the tavern stories and another thing all together when you were trying to live through it.

He wondered, as he tugged on his boots, why he didn’t make for the Free Cities and Dorne like the few remaining knights did when the whole world finally fell apart in flame and ruin. Yes, the stories of the fine wines and glimmering cities where even beggars could be Kings might have been exaggerated, but it couldn’t be any worse than here. At the very least, it might be nice to live somewhere your piss didn’t freeze midstream and your cock didn’t stick to your hand each time you used the privy.

Sandor turned the idea over in his mind, finding that its appeal grew with each passing moment. However, any thoughts of leaving vanished the instant he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of your face peeking out from under the edge of the blankets. Your expression was peaceful, almost serene.

He leaned over you, his hair falling around his cheeks like a curtain, and placed a quick kiss against your temple. You stirred slightly in response, your eyelashes fluttering as a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Whassamatter?”

Sandor chuckled and reached out to deliver a gentle pat to your side before answering.

“Nothing. Gonna go cut some firewood. I’ll be back before you’re up.”

You mumbled something in reply, too faint for him to make out, before sleep’s embrace claimed you once more. He chuckled again and fondly shook his head.

At one point, nobody wanted to spend a night in his bed, not even when he'd gone to a brothel. Those girls had been too frightened of his face to give him more than a few hours at most, leaving him to wake to a cold bed and empty purse the next morning.

You, on the other hand, were comforted enough by his presence to stay through the night. You even claimed you slept more soundly when he was with you. It had taken a while before Sandor believed you, but after over a year of waking with you warm and content beside him, he was starting to see that you’d been telling the truth.

The bedroom door squeaked as it opened, which made the large, shaggy dog the two of you kept leap to its feet and growl deep in its throat. Sandor shushed the animal, which immediately bounded over from its spot by the fireplace, tongue out and tail wagging at the sight of its master.

“Stupid mutt.” Sandor said, as he began to rumple and massage the dog’s ears. “Good thing you’re loyal, or else what use would you be?”

The dog, which you’d so cleverly called Nameless because Sandor had refused to give it one, eagerly leaned into his touch and gazed up at him in squinty eyed delight. You’d found the poor beast roughly around the same time Sandor had been able to walk again, where he’d been left to die in some abandoned crofter’s hut.

At first, Sandor had wanted nothing to do with the animal. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t need another mouth to feed, what with him still half crippled and you were only able to set the most basic of rabbit snares. There had barely been enough food for the two of you, let alone a walking gut disguised as a dog.

He’s a big, black dog you’d insisted on just like your crest. If that’s not a sign from the gods, I don’t know what is.

Bugger the gods had been Sandor’s reply, but in the end, he’d yielded, if only to have some peace from your griping. Since then, Nameless had followed Sandor around like a second shadow. He’d cursed the beast and the bitch that whelped him each time he got underfoot, but eventually this gave way to begrudging acceptance and finally a quiet sort of affection.

Whoever left Nameless behind had, whether they knew it or not, forfeited a skilled hunting dog. Despite his sweet nature with people, he could catch rabbits and squirrels as skillfully as any wolf, which kept you and Sandor well stocked with meat despite the North’s unforgiving climate.

Once again, Sandor found himself questioning why he’d chosen to live in the frozen arse end of the world as he tried to open the front door. A thick layer of ice had settled over the tiny cottage you called home, a parting gift from last night’s storm.

Despite ample shoving and force, the door was refusing to cooperate. With each attempt, the aged wood groaned and creaked as though in protest, but wouldn’t budge. Though he couldn’t see it, Sandor had a feeling the damn thing had frozen shut in its frame, which was a much more common occurrence than he would’ve liked it to be. With a muttered oath, he threw his shoulder against the wood, swearing louder at the shock of pain that came after.

A thin sweat had broken out on Sandor’s brow when he finally gave himself a moment to breathe, half slumped against the bastard door and wishing agonies upon whichever fool god made ice to begin with. He stole a glance over his shoulder, hoping the racket hadn’t woken you, and was greeted with the sight of Nameless. The dog was sitting a few feet behind him and watching the entire process as though it was a Mummer’s show Sandor was putting on especially for him.

“Are you just going to look? Or are you going to be helpful for once in your sorry life?”

By way of response, Nameless rose to his feet, stood for a moment, squinted at Sandor, and then let out a quick, loud sneeze that sent forth a spray of drool and dust motes into the chilled air. Satisfied, the dog sat down again with a bump, and stared at his master. He cocked his head to one side, and spread his mouth wide in a lolling, doggy grin, as if two of them were sharing some sort of secret joke.

Sandor couldn’t help but grin back, albeit a little lopsidedly, before returning to the problem of the door. Once upon a time, he could’ve split the bloody thing in two with the heel of his boot and a well-aimed kick, but he had been a different man then. The Hound, with all his strength and rage, had died with Gregor the day they both went over the falls. Now, all that remained was Sandor, who had to huff and puff and struggle with frozen doors just like anyone else.

When the door finally gave way, it did so with a mighty crack, which shattered the morning air in a flurry of loose snow that tumbled off the roof and bits of ice that shimmered like diamond shards as they fell.

Sandor stumbled outside, shoulder first since he was mid shove when the door decided to open. Instantly, he was blinded by the sheer, sterile whiteness of fresh snow and sunbeams that cut like yellow knives after the dimness of the cottage. For a moment, he had little choice but to wait and lean against the door frame while his vision cleared.

Despite the early hour, the woods were already awake and teeming with life. Around him, Sandor could hear all manner of birdsong, as well as the chattering of squirrels and the far off call of a solitary deer.

From behind the cottage came the sounds of the sheep, small, squat, shaggy creatures with more wool than brains between their ears. They bleated mournfully from inside their little shed, hoping it would get them fed all the sooner, but their cries stirred no pity in Sandor’s heart. He could hardly stand the sight of the fool things, with their empty eyes and the way they ran in panicked, useless circles every time they were frightened.

When you’d first asked Sandor why he hated the sheep so much, he told you it was because he had no patience for anything, man or beast, that was too stupid to know how stupid it actually was. You’d laughed at that, a bright, musical sound that made warmth bloom in Sandor’s chest, but you hadn’t left the matter alone like he’d hoped.

As far as you were concerned, there was no point in wasting time hating something so pathetic and harmless and so you persisted. If Sandor was stubborn, you were twice as much, pestering him with that unfaltering cheerfulness each time you went you to feed the damn things. Eventually, he relented, the name and reason tumbling from his lips like rain after a drought.

Mycha.

From the ashes of Sandor’s rage, shame had blossomed, and with it a thin, choking vine that clenched a little tighter around his heart each time he’d thought of the boy. He’d lived what felt like a thousand different lifetimes since that fateful day by the river, and no matter how much he���d drunk, fought or fucked, he couldn’t seem to shake that one particular ghost. It was as though a small part of Mycha had always been there, slowly poisoning what little shreds of goodness Sandor had managed to grasp hold of, and for a while, he supposed that was what he deserved. Until you came along.

You, who had dragged Sandor out from the water when he was little more than a half drowned corpse. You, who had set every broken bone, stitched every wound and fed him spoonfuls of broth even when he’d cursed you after each one. With your constant, stubborn, infuriating cheerfulness, you had talked Sandor into talking, smiled him into smiling, and somehow loved him into loving you back. You had become the sun that rose and set on each day of Sandor’s life. You were what got him up in the mornings and kept him working until dusk. The thought of losing you, or worse, having you cast him aside, scared him more than dragons, others, and his cunt brother ever had.

That was why, in the end, Sandor had chosen to tell you the truth. At least then you’d hear it from him, instead of whatever exaggerated horseshit the village gossips would invent. Ugly as it was, Sandor knew honesty would be his friend in this matter, and he’d had more than his fill of liars after spending so much time in service to the Lannisters.

And so you came to know the whole sordid tale, one dreary morning in the sheep shed. He spared no detail, no matter how gruesome it was or how poorly it reflected on his character. If you were going to keep loving him, it was best you knew the sort of man you’d chosen, lest the truth curdle what little affection he’d earned.

At first, Sandor wasn’t sure how you were going to take things. He half expected you to try to brain him with the bucket of sheep’s feed, then drive him off in a hail of shrieking and chunks of dung. Tears were also a likely possibility, though you didn’t really seem the type. But learning that the man who you’d let into your home and bed had the blood of an innocent child on his hands could make anyone behave strangely.

When he’d finally got up the courage to stop staring at his boots and look into your face, you, as always, surprised him. You were smiling at him, that same warm, gentle smile that Sandor remembered from the moment he’d woken up in your arms.

I know is what you’d said. I’ve always known, and I love you anyway.

You’d reached for him after, setting aside your bucket so you could bring your hand up and caress his scarred cheek. Sandor had leaned into your touch, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart into a million pieces. Of course you’d known, who in all the Seven Kingdoms hadn’t heard the stories about King Joffery’s rabid dog and the things he’d done? He should’ve given you more credit.

From there, it had been easy enough to tell you why he hated those sheep. Their cries, the sheer terror in their eyes each time he approached? They reminded him too much of that boy, and regardless of how you felt about it, he was not entirely certain he’d ever be able to forget. It was one thing to have your forgiveness and another thing entirely to be able to forgive himself.

Give it time is what you’d told him And let me worry about the sheep. You’ve got enough to do around here, anyway.

The sound of Nameless’ barking is what suddenly tugged Sandor from his memories and back into the here and now. Somehow, the dog had managed to squeeze past him without Sandor noticing, and he was now diving face first through the fresh snow, on the hunt for grouse tracks and anything else that would provide a decent chase.

Sandor watched for a moment, unable to hide the smile playing about his lips. The sight of the big dog, now sporting a healthy dusting of snow across his shoulders and muzzle, was enough to brighten anyone’s mood. He supposed, after almost starving to death on his own, the idiot creature was simply happy to be alive long enough to see another day.

The two of them would go and check Sandor’s traps later. With any luck, they’d snag a rabbit or two that you could roast for supper and have plenty of bones left for Nameless to enjoy. But, in the meantime, you wouldn’t be cooking anything if there wasn’t any wood for the fire.

It hadn’t warmed up any by the time Sandor walked to the woodshed. The snows frozen crust crunched under his feet as he walked, while his breath floated away in thick, white clouds that dampened his beard. His axe, stuck blade down in the stump a few feet away from the woodshed, was a welcome sight.

It was by no means half the weapon his greatsword had been, but Sandor found comfort in the way its worn, wooden handle fit snugly into his grasp and in its blade that thirsted for pine sap instead of blood.

Before long, the sound of logs splitting filled the air, mingling with the soft creak of trees in the wind and an occasional bark from Nameless. Sandor quickly found his rhythm, letting the weight of the axe guide his arm on the downstroke and pushing aside each long with his other hand to be stacked in the shed later.

He went on like that for a while, cut, push, another log, and do it again. The repetition of the work was soothing, almost meditative. It brought a sense of peace to Sandor the way only busy hands could.

Cut, push, new log, do it again.

It was like the axe was an extension of his arm, with the beat of his heart matching each thud of the blade and his breath moving in time as the axe swung through the air. There was most likely going to be a fresh tree fall after last night’s winds, no doubt with plenty of new wood for Sandor to haul home. It probably wouldn’t hurt to bring a length of rope and the sledge when he went hunting with Nameless later. If they didn’t catch anything, at least they wouldn’t be coming home empty-handed.

The young pine he was currently working on was halfway gone by the time you’d made an appearance. Sandor hadn’t heard you at first, too absorbed in what he was doing. It was only after you’d said his name for the third time that he’d finally stopped and turned to look at you over his shoulder, squinting at you as though he wasn’t quite sure who you were or where he was.

“What are you doing out here?”

His tone, like everything about him, was gruff. You smiled at him all the same, knowing that for Sandor, gruffness and worry were often interchangeable.

“Came to check on you. You’ve been out here for hours.”

Sandor glanced upwards and was surprised to find the sun sitting squarely above his head. A sheen of sweat had also broken out over his arms and forehead, and he could feel where it was pooling in the hollows of his back. With a sigh, he set aside his axe and removed his heavy woolen cloak, before turning back towards you.

“Have you been asleep this whole time?”

The slight tilt of his chin in your direction indicated your odd choice of garments. Born to a wilding father and shepherd’s daughter, you always swore the North in your blood kept you from ever truly feeling cold. Still, a sleeping shift, boots, and knit shawl tossed hastily about your shoulders was a questionable choice in midwinter, even for a Northern girl.

You shook your head and gestured back towards the cottage where steam had fogged up the windows.

“I started the laundry, wanted to make use of the sunlight while we still have it. I figured it didn’t make much sense to change until my other clothes were dry, and then I could wash these next.”

Sandor listened to your explanation, his face unchanging save for an arched brow. When you finished, he raised his arm and pointed back at the cottage with a thick finger.

“You should be inside, you fool, woman. You’ll freeze your tits off out here.”

You laughed before wrapping your shawl a little tighter around your shoulders and closing the space between you and Sandor with a few steps.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m a Northerner. I don’t get cold. We’re not as pampered as you Southern city types.”

Sandor grumbled softly and shook his head, something about “tongue lashing harpy bitch.” There was no venom behind his words, however, only affectionate resignation. Instinctively, he brought his hand to rest on the curve of your stomach, a protective gesture towards the child you’d been carrying for the last five months. You reached up for Sandor’s face, cupping the scarred side as you usually did against the palm of your hand.

Sandor’s eyes fluttered shut in response to the touch, and for a moment, years seemed to fall away from his expression. He turned his head slightly to the side and pressed a kiss against the skin of your wrist. You loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and content. It was like a glimpse into the past, when he was young and full of hope. However, his eyes opened all too quickly, and he was back to being the Sandor you knew. Older, grumpy, and entirely done with your nonsense.

“Inside. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and bring you there myself”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d do no such thing, not while you were pregnant, anyway.

“Fine. But I want a kiss first.”

There was more grumbling, but Sandor did as you asked, catching your mouth against his while his hands snaked down to encircle your hips. You leaned into the kiss, pressing your body as close to his as you could get while still keeping your feet on the ground. His beard was coarse against your cheeks, and he smelled faintly of the woods and sweat. The heat of him seemed to envelope you, like a familiar blanket.

You stood like that for a while, the two of you bathed in morning sunshine and kissing as though you’d never get a chance to do it again. When Sandor tried to pull away, you chased him, closing the space between your mouths by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him downwards. This kiss was a little messier and rougher than the first, most likely due to Sandor’s surprise, but you didn’t mind. It was only when you nibbled at his bottom lip that he broke the kiss off in earnest, catching your two hands in one of his and trapping them against his chest.

“None of that. I told you, go inside.”

You stared up at Sandor and pulled your mouth into an exaggerated pout.

“One more? Please? And then I’ll go, I promise.”

Sandor swore softly under his breath and used his free hand to adjust the front of his trousers before leaning down to claim your mouth again. For a moment, it seemed as though you were going to get your way. Sandor had brought his other hand up to twine in your hair, which only served to deepen the kiss. You welcomed it eagerly, opening your lips and running your tongue against the seam of his mouth. He let out a groan in response, the hand that still held yours squeezing tight. You squirmed against him eagerly, trying to wrap one of your legs around his and haul yourself upwards, your hips seeking the friction they so desperately craved.

This, however, didn’t have the desired effect. Sandor began to laugh, and then placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back so you could no longer reclaim his mouth.

“I’m not a tree, you little minx, so stop trying to climb me. You said one more, you’ve had one more, and now you’re going to go inside or else.”

One look at Sandor’s face, and you knew there was no use in pushing your luck. With a long, suffering sigh, you stepped away, already mourning the absence of his mouth and hands on your body.

“Fine. But I better see you again before it gets dark. I’ll need to wash those clothes you’re wearing, and I’m not warming up your dinner twice.”

Sandor grunted, the noise vaguely affirmative enough that you took it as agreement. You turned to head back towards the cottage, only to stop mid step when you felt the familiar sting of an open hand strike your ass. You spun back around, your shawl spinning about your shoulders, and stared at Sandor, who grinned wolfishly back.

“That’s not fair!” you sputtered, your already pink cheeks flushing deeper.

“Nothing ever is,” came the reply.

You shook your head, turning once again to leave. Sandor let you do so without further torment, watching the way the sunlight made your hair glisten and the subtle swing of your hips as you walked. Nothing was ever fair, but sometimes things got close, even for an old dog like himself.

[btsficsandsuch]

Hi , i really like your writings and i enjoy reading your work very much. I read them after long and tiring work days to forget everything that bothers me. So thank you for sharing your work here. I appreciate it. I hope you're feeling great. I wanted to request a yoongi × reader drabble where they're friends and yoongi is trying to flirt with her, throwing some pick up lines etc. but she's kinda inexperienced with dating stuff (yoongi doesn't know that) so she's oblivious to the situation and doesn't get the pick up lines. He gets frustrated, starts to think that the reader is aware of his feelings and just playing dumb to save him from the heart break of rejection. Short time after he gives up, when they were hanging out at a party, someone tries to flirt with reader and she doesn't give a reaction and again doesn't understand the pick up line, yoongi hears the interaction and it clicks on him so he decides to confess directly. Fluffy with a happy ending.

Hope you like it! It’s been a minute since I’ve written for Yoongi.

Pickup Lines

“Hey genius, I brought you some food.”, you said setting the bag of takeout on the table in Yoongi’s studio. He turned around with a smirk, “You’re such a charmer Y/N. How could I ever live without you?” The two of you had a friendship that was filled with lots of teasing and poking fun at each other. That’s how’s its always been for the three years that you knew each other.

Yoongi walked over and plopped down on the couch next to you before grabbing a container of food. Normally Yoongi hated small talk but he always enjoyed it when it came to you. The sound of your voice had a calming effect on him. “Do anything exciting today?”, he asked. You shook your head, “No not really. Just worked and then got food and came here.” “How about you?,” you asked. “Just worked on some music. I’m almost done with this new song.”, he smiled. The two of you continued to eat in silence while scrolling on your phones catching up on social media and whatnot. You started giggling when you came across a new meme of Yoongi dressed up as a cat and you eagerly handed him your phone to show it. He chuckled while looking over the photo before handing the phone back to you. “You know Y/N, if I really was a cat I’d spend all nine of my lives with you.”, he said. “Aww Yoongles you’re adorable.”, you smiled before taking another bite of your meal not giving it a second thought. Yoongi internally scolded himself at his weak attempt of a pickup line.

The two of you finished your meals and you quickly cleaned up wanting to let Yoongi get back to work. “Hey Y/N before you go can I get your opinion on a song I’m working on? I wrote it for someone really special to me. It’s still a work in progress so go easy on me.”, he smiled at you. “Yeah of course!,” you said happily taking the chair next to him. He clicked a few buttons and the song started flowing through the speakers,

“From the moment I met you, ya, my life was all you, ya

You’re the star that turns ordinaries into extraordinaries, oh yeah

One after another ay, ay, everything is special ay, ay

The things you’re interested in, the way you walk or talk, and every little trivial habit of yours.”

Quickly Yoongi turned off the music and shyly looked over at you biting his lip, “What did you think Y/N?” “I love it Yoongi. It already sounds amazing. Whoever this girl is you wrote that for is really lucky. I’d love to meet the person that turned my Yoongles into a romantic mess.” He chuckled on the outside but inside he’s dying. After that you give him a hug and say goodbye before heading home to get some rest.

The following morning you woke up to a text from Yoongi. You thought it was odd that he was already texting you this early on a Saturday but you figured he probably never even went to sleep.

Yoongi: Morning sleepyhead! What are you gonna do today?

Y/N: Not 100% sure. I was thinking about having a Disney movie marathon.

Yoongi: People always say that Disney is the happiest place on Earth, but they’ve clearly never spent a day with you ;)

Y/N: Silly boy! So you wanna come over?

Yoongi: Umm sure. I’ll be there in fifteen.

Y/N: Great! Can’t wait!!

Yoongi ran his hands over his face. He started to question if you ever had feelings for him or if he just interpreted everything all wrong as you didn’t seem to take any of the hints he had been dropping over the last few weeks. Quickly he showered and got ready so he could make it over to your place in time.

When you opened the door you happily greeted Yoongi who presented you with your favorite coffee and muffin from the bakery up the street. “You smell nice. Why are you all dressed up? Hot date tonight?”, you asked. Too busy digging into your breakfast that you didn’t notice the blush creep up his neck. “So I thought we could start with Cinderella since it’s a classic. Then maybe The Little Mermaid. Followed by The Princess and the Frog and maybe Coco is we have time.”, you said. He smiled and nodded in agreement, “Anything you want Y/N.”

The first two movies went by in a flash. You were just finishing up The Little Mermaid when Yoongi turned to look at you and smiled, “Do you know what the Little Mermaid and I have in common? We both want to be part of your world.” You snorted at his joke, “Yoongi you’re my best friend. You are part of my world.”

He shyly chuckled before turning his attention back to the screen. Yoongi continuously tried to get close to you. His hand slowly crept closer to yours. He kept sneaking peeks trying to work up the courage to actually grab your hand. As the third movie began he couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked getting all excited. He doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came from but he does the classic yawn and stretch so he could place his arm smoothly around your shoulders to try and encourage you to cuddle into him. “Are you cold Yoongi? I can get you a blanket.”, you asked noticing his arm around you. You simply thought he just wanted some extra warmth.

Yoongi shook his head and removed his arm, “No Y/N, actually I think I’m gonna get going. I have to work on some music.” You pouted at his sudden departure, “Alright, well I hope you have a good night at least.” He smiled and left your apartment not even giving you the opportunity to walk him to the door. It did seem odd but it wasn’t uncommon for him to have mood swings so you shrugged it off and decided to give him space.

A few hours of space turned into a few days and next thing you know it had been a week since you’d seen Yoongi. Unless he was on tour the two of you never went more than a day without seeing each other but every time you texted him to try and hang out he always had an excuse. Luckily tonight was Jimin’s birthday party and you knew Yoongi was going to be there. Normally he would pick you up but since he was avoiding you Jungkook offered to pick you up instead.

“Thank you for the ride Kookie.”, you said buckling up in the passenger seat. “It’s no problem Noona. I just hope Yoongi doesn’t find out. He always gets a little jealous when we hang out with you.”, the younger member said. Before you could question what he meant by that the two of you arrived and he hopped out of the car jogging over to the passenger side to help you out.

Once inside you quickly noticed Yoongi sitting in the corner talking to Namjoon and Hoseok. You waved and began to make your way over when you got side tracked by Jin who pulled you into the kitchen to get you a drink. While you were sipping form your cup you felt a presence come up next to you. Thinking it was Yoongi you happily turned around but were met by some guy you’d never seen before. He smiled down at you, “Is your name Google? Because you have everything I’m searching for.” You chuckled, “No actually my name is Y/N. And your name is?” The guy looked stunned, “Oh my name is Soobin. Sorry I hear one of my friends calling for me.” He turned and quickly walked away and that’s when you saw Yoongi standing in the doorway with a big grin on his face while laughing to himself.

He walked over to you and grabbed your hand pulling you outside where it was quieter and less crowded. “There you are Yoongles! I’ve missed you so much.”, you said happy that you were finally spending time with him. “Yeah sorry about that. I just needed some time to think.”, he said. Gently he took your hand in his, “Listen Y/N. This is really hard for me to say so I’m just going to come out and say it. I really like you a lot. I’ve been dropping hints for weeks. I’ve been using pick up lines and trying to get close to you. When you weren’t reacting I thought maybe you were just trying to be polite and not hurt my feelings but I see now that maybe you just weren’t getting the hints. It’s okay if you really don’t like me in that way but I just had to be honest and tell you the truth. I’m sorry I kind of abandoned you the last week. I just wanted some time to think and decide what I wanted to do.”

You were kind of surprised at his confession but in a good way. “That song you played for me. Did you write that about me?”, you asked. Shyly he smiled, “Yeah, I actually have quite a few songs I’ve written about you.” You smacked yourself on the forehead, “Oh my god I’m so dumb. I’m sorry Yoongi. I’ve never really dated before so I’m not used to this kind of attention and I didn’t even notice it. The truth is I kind of actually like you too. I was going to tell you that day I brought you food to your studio but then you played me the song and I thought you already had your heart set on someone else so I never said anything.” The two of you started laughing at the situation you put yourselves in.

“Hey how about we get out of here and go hangout at my place?”, you asked. He agreed and quickly called for a cab since the two of you had some alcohol earlier in the night. Once in the back of the cab you felt your phone vibrate and saw a text from Yoongi,

Yoongi: Is this the Hogwarts Express? Because it feels like you and I are headed somewhere magical.

You rolled your eyes before leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek watching his ears turn red, happy that the two of you finally cleared the air.

[dem1verse]

﹏ ❛ living dead girl.⠀⠀⠀frater imperator.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★⠀the one where you celebrate your first halloween with him.

content disclaimers ╱╱ HEAVY fluff. romantic relationship. implied fem reader. wc: 881.

YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀♡⠀⠀“ HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY LOVELIES!!! if ur not planning on dressing up (or you've never gone out) that this fic is for you! have lots of fun and eat lots of candy (≧ヮ≦) ”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING, TESORO MIO..." Copia grabbed your shoulders, shaking you back and forth with surprising force. The room spun slightly as your head rattled. For context, you, Copia and the ghouls were on the topic of the upcoming annual Halloween mass when you confessed you'd never gone trick-or-treating, let alone dressed up. Needless to say, the lovable fiends and their frontman were more than shocked. Gasps, shouts and faces laden with expressions of both sympathy and shock replaced the once-calming atmosphere of the room.

"I'm afraid not, love," you said sheepishly. "I simply never had the chance. But I've always wanted to."

Then Sodo jumped up. He radiated energy, and all eyes turned to him. "Change of plans!" he declared, his voice booming with excitement. "Your dry streak? It's over. You're celebrating with us." The ghouls crowded around you, excitement bubbling in the air. They were determined to turn your missed Halloween moments into something you'd never forget.

Maybe it would've been better if you kept your mouth shut.

                                       ｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

You smiled, breathing in the warm autumn air and feeling relief at resting after a long and harrowing week of planning and decoration. You looked at the ministry's entrance, its gothic nature now covered with cliched depictions of skeletons and tombstones. Today was the day: October 31st. Copia and the ghouls decided to bring you out to get bags of candy to give to the locals. As you passed the town plaza, you couldn't help but notice the number of young and old people as they ran around dressed in wacky costumes. Glowing jack-o-lanterns and cobwebs embellished your surroundings as you drove to the nearby candy shop.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"H-huh? Yeah, it is," you responded, still smitten with the place's beauty.

"Would you like to dress up?" He asked. You didn't have time to protest as he drove to the store, grabbing three full bags of candy and a couple of costumes. You couldn't help but find his frantic search adorable; he was pulling out all the stops.

As soon as you stepped back into the ministry, Copia dragged you to the nearest room, eager to see you try on the clothes he brought you.

"Let's see… How about a witch? Or a ghost?" the clergy leader suggested, checking various outfits. Finally, he held up a black Victorian dress coupled with high-heeled platforms. "This! It is perfect for you!" It looked stunning. You shyly held up your hands in protest. "I don't think I'll be able to pull that up. Besides, I don't even know what I am."

"Don't concern yourself with all of that, cuore mio!" he shot down. "I'll handle everything!" He hastily pushed the clothes in your arms and led you to the bathroom. "Just try them on, for me, per favore?" he begged.

Damn it.

"Alright, Coco. I'll do it." you stuttered. "But you have to promise me one thing."

"What's that?" he asked, intrigued.

"You have to close your eyes!"

"Done!" he beamed, clearly excited.

                                       ｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

"Okay, I think I'm finished..." you announced, emerging from the bathroom.

Copia uncovered his eyes and turned. His mouth dropped open. You had transformed your face to resemble a traditional Gothic doll. The black lines highlighted your features, making you look undeniably striking.

"I decided to put some makeup on. I wanted to look like you." You nervously fiddled with the dress collar. His gaze felt heavy, almost electric. He suddenly ran up to you and hugged you tightly, barraging you with kisses and pecks. "Sathanas below, amore, you look amazing." He complimented, connecting both of your lips in a searing kiss. His excitement filled the room. It was infectious. "Now I really want to show you off," he added, laughter bubbling between you.

                                       ｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

The ghouls weren't kidding when they said Halloween was one of the most enjoyable holidays of the year. You'd probably gotten more compliments on your costume than Copia himself. As you sat at the front of the ministry giving out candy to the locals, you watched as children and adults walked around with full bags of sweets. You'd almost forgotten it was your first time celebrating. "I can't believe I've never done this before! It's incredible!" you exclaimed, excitement bubbling to the surface.

Copia grinned. "So, I take it your first Halloween is a success?"

"Are you kidding? It's amazing! I wish it was like this every day!" Your laughter bubbled over, pure joy spilling into the chilly air. "Thanks for sharing it with me, Copia. I'm really glad it's with you," you said, your heart swelling with warmth.

His cheeks flushed, matching the glow of the decorations around you. "To your first Halloween and many more!"

As the night unfolded, your smile never faded. Every trick-or-treater and festive decoration added to the magic. This Halloween would forever stand out in your memory. It commemorated freedom and love—all because of Copia and his ghouls.

DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀sorry if this seems rushed i wanted to get smth out in time for the day 😭😭 but happy halloween again! taglist: @seneon @sabrinass

[donnerpartyofone]

I just found out that this friend of mine's dog died, which is terrible on multiple levels. On the one hand I'm feeling extremely cowardly because I'm so out of gas that I'm having a hard time even talking about actual-good news with anyone, I'm struggling to figure out how to support other people right now, something I really need to work out. And I have to say that this particular friend can be extremely draining on the best of days; I guess that's a terrible thing to say but she needs a LOT of attention and reassurance and i-love-you's (even if you don't know her too well) and if you let the conversation go too long she'll figure out how to assign you the role of savior in some area of her life. So, since I'm so destroyed at the moment, and I'm a bit of a wuss about extreme emotional outpourings in general, and this specific person requires a lot of energy in any case...I don't know I'm just trying to figure out how to not be a total flake with her. I'm sure she's really suffering.

But there's a part 2 to all this, which is that she serially owns ONLY Boston terriers, and every single one of them has died a tragic, expensive death just because they are so deformed and inbred and naturally weak. I forget how the first (?) one went, but the last one had some insane brain problem, this one has been having regular surgery its whole life for respiratory problems, which were almost certainly compounded by the fact that she cuts hair professionally right where they both live. And part of me feels like someone really needs to have an intervention with her about these dogs, whose lives are full of suffering just because of what they are, and then their suffering becomes enormously expensive and heartbreaking for her, and the result is just exactly the same every time. She made an effort one time, years ago, to actually adopt a mutt, and she simply could not bond with him because he wasn't a Boston terrier. She was constantly making these passive aggressive, disparaging remarks about how he had a proper snout -- it was honestly like listening to a guy trying to convince himself that he can maybe, if he squints, learn to love a flat-chested woman, if he really tries. Eventually she found some excuse to give him back. I don't know what she's going to do, she's completely psychologically dependent on owning Boston terriers, and it always ruins her life and drains her bank account when they inevitably, violently implode.

[silverhart-makes-art]

I think this week's Bestiary Posting is pretty fascinating. I especially like the animal being described as having 'mercy', as I feel like many people would consider that a distinctly human trait. I kind of assumed this idea of animals being like machines incapable of emotions was an old idea, but this and other bestiary entries really seem to humanize the animals listed in them more then I expected.

Anyway, I think what the Zomargon actually is, is pretty obvious, but the bit that stood out to me the most was: "it strikes fear into bulls, yet fears the mouse", and my mind immediately went to my dog. He likes to put on a lot of bluster when confronted with larger dogs or animals, but show him a bug and he runs behind the couch and cries until someone comes to save him.

So, it had to be a poodle. There's no other animal it could possibly be. Lively intelligence, scared of mice, works with people, if one of them falls over they have to gather around and make a big drama about it - that's a poodle for sure.

So this description lists a lot of different traits, so I'm just gonna go down them all and explain my thoughts.

"His nose is called a trunk because he uses it to put food in his mouth."

At first I went with an elephant shrew-type nose, but that's not so great for grabbing, but you know what would be? A hand. And what has a hand on the end of it's nose? That's right, a star-nosed mole. So combination trunk/star nose situation.

"The Persians and Indians, carried in wooden towers on their backs..."

So we know it's a big critter, to able to carry people on it's back.

"...lively intelligence and a long memory..."

Gave them a bit of a big skull to accommodate those big brains. I can also confirm that poodles never forget and hold onto to grudges for years.

"...she goes out into a pool, until the water comes up to her udders."

For sure a mammal this time, so good to know.

"If the Zomargon finds a snake, it kills it..."

This explains why my dog's favorite toys are the ones made to look like snakes and why they are the first to get torn to shreds.

"if it falls down, it cannot rise."

For this I was thinking about how this happens to sheep quite often, when they're pregnant or their wool is too heavy, so I gave my Zomargon a broad back and thick woolly fur that can grow out into a big poof-ball (as I doodled in the bottom).

"...it has no joints in its knees."

This one was tricky to figure out. The knee is a joint, so how can a joint not be a joint? I had to sketch up a couple of legs off to the side just to try out some ideas. Ended up going with the middle one, and just adding a big fleshy pad on the back of the foot to support it, since there's no mention of hooves. It looks weird, but I guess they make it work?

"They possess the quality of mercy."

If a creature possesses mercy, it of course must have soft, gentle eyes, so I tried to give them a sweet dog-like expression. This is a beastie made for cuddling.

"...they make their way carefully and peaceably lest their tusks kill any animal in their way."

Just throwing in tusks in at the last second, huh? I honestly almost forgot to include them, they seem like such an afterthought in the description. And if Zomargons don't fight each other, the tusks must be used for something else. I decided to give them something like a Thylacosmilus fang situation, where these big saber teeth are supported by this crazy lower jaw. Seems to be some debate about whether these teeth were used for scavenging carcasses or killing prey. The Zomargon also eats fruits according to the description, so maybe these tusks are in fact just for opening coconuts.

[evanhamato]

Good morning? Good after or goodnight! Hope you’re having a wonderful day! I have 2 scenarios that came to mind, so I’ll let you pick whatever you want, whatever makes you imagination, imagine.

Scenario 1- the turtles have an s/o that’s like really good at something they love, like amazing at this, but s/o dose not like doing this and sees it more like some sort of chore. Due to the fact the parents made them do if from really young age, makinh them quite any other things and or hang outs, parties or anything else as they where expected to put 110% into this, they are good at it not because they want to, but because they had no choice but to be good at it.

for the things the s/o is really good at:

for Donnie it could be something to do with robotics, or coding

for mikey someyhung to do with cooking or ballet.

For Raph something with boxing, wrestling or some sort of martial arts

And for Leo maybe something with modelling, or icon.

Scenario 2-there a/o is a yokai, maybe like a rabbit or a weasel so when winter comes they just start turning white, how would they react? Would they freak out? Would they find it cool? Or even annoying at the fact fue is everywhere?

[ Thermochromic ]

ROTTMNT x GN!Reader who is a rabbit yokai

A/N: noe. what cameras do you have on me. bunnies are my special interest. REVEAL YOURSELF /J. I WAS BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS TO DO THIS ASK THANK YOU NOE. also the hazbin hotel ost is so good?? anyways back to the topic, THANK YOU NOE FOR REQUESTING!! <3

Relationships: Romantic, platonic, whatever you perceive it as, mostly romantic though

TW: Fluff, turts getting freaked out, fainting mentions, cuddling

Raph

Squealed when he saw you.

He almost fainted, he thought someone had broken in until he saw your face.

When you explained that you were molting due to winter, you could see his shoulders drop in relief.

Gives you lots of scratches during your naps to get the extra fur off, he doesn't wanna make you itchy while awake.

If he hears you purring/clucking in your sleep, he knows he's not doing anything wrong.

Still, a little freaked out. But hey, you changes colors, that's cool in his eyes!

Leo

Genuinely fell over when he first witnessed you molting.

You had to repeat yourself a few times while explaining, you weren't sure if he was listening or not due to how surprised he was.

Whenever he leans in for a smooch, immediately starts to cough, he ALWAYS forgets molting includes free fur everywhere.

Please god why is there so much FUR.

Once tried to use his swords to cut off the extra fur.

It didn't end well. Thank god it was in a spot that wasn't noticeable.

Donnie

Already knew beforehand but seeing it in action is fascinating.

Star eyes in live action.

How many times are your lab privileges going to get revoked, reader?

Aside from the lab, you are to go for a shower before you cuddle or touch him at all.

Fur is nice sensory wise but, fur that isn't attached to you is prickly and icky.

After you molt, expect him to cling to you like a magnet. New fur equals heaven.

Mikey

If he isn't hanging out with you, he's hanging out with Donnie. So, of course he knew!

Still a little freaked out.

He actually adores the loose fur everywhere, it smells like you!

Plus, its like a little souvenir.

Extra plus, it's free art materials!

He sees you the same, regardless of changing color. <3

[buwheal]

Anon that was probably saying sorry, I said sorry because I find what clown roll was saying judgy, it's not easy being broke and not being able to afford food, the last thing a poor person needs is a lecture on how unhealthy their lifestyle is. Like of course it's not healthy, you think someone would CHOOSE to live like that? To eat nothing but trash? Pretty sure if spamton could be eating something not out of the trash he WOULD, he doesn't need someone rubbing how awful his life is in his face when he doesn't really have a way to make it better, like "oh yeah just get some food not in the trash" for free??? Or if you're expecting him to pay, with what money??? I swear financially well off people seem to just forget you need money to do almost anything because of how much they have. If clowny roll really cared so much they should give him some damn money to buy something, granted maybe they can't because of askbox rules, but still.

THAAANKK YOU DUDE arrghhhhh,, frustrates me a little because theres some people in this box talking to him like he has a choice!!! HE DOESNT!!! I already did a WHOLE nasty thing with a whole bunch of the asks rubbing that shit in his face as if it were an apology,, reminding CONSTANTLY with stuff like "I had trouble finding sucess once!" sorry but that doesnt help guys... This isnt some one time thing where hes down in the dumps cause he got fired or smth HES HOMELESS... thankfully ive stopped getting those, but now its THESE ones about how unhealthy his lifestyle is............... like yeah......... hes not fucking stupid he knows....... they talk to him like hes a child waaghhh /lh Like, heres some examples, sorry to these anons, but if i had chosen your ask you'd get yelled at by Spamton AND the audience anyways,, so heres some that i think maybe... they forgot he cant really do a whole lot....

...do you see the irony in this one......

guuuyyyysss do you see the freaking issue here???? "EAT HEALTHER!"

huh.

what.....

WITH WHAT FOOD????? WITH WHAT OPTIONS???? sorry lmfaoo... but like. "doesn't mean you shouldnt try to do better!" WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUSAYING RIGHT NOW... HES NOT CHOOSING TO????? HES ALWAYS "TRYING TO DO BETTER"... DID YOU GUYS MISS THE POST POINTING OUT THAT HE EVEN HAS TROUBLE FINDING SOMETHING GOOD TO EAT /REGULARLY/??? pleeaaseeee dude save me pleese wauughh

But. Dont go after anyone,, esp Clowny Roll!!!!! I think a lot of them dont ....really think about it. I also have a tinge of a feeling that Clowny Roll has a bit of bait intention with theirs!! nothing wrong with that!

[naluwalker]

Brain bugs, brain bugs, someone get them out of my head

So, I have no idea about Game of Thrones, I have no idea about House of the Dragon, and even less about A Song of Ice and Fire, but I desperately need a Fairy Tail reincarnating in Westeros fanfiction.

Which is a very silly thing, because Fairy Tail is everything that George RR Martin's works are not, and by that I mean the power of the script and of friendship in all its splendor.

Make no mistake, I love Fairy Tail and everything related to it, but even I have to admit that Fairy Tail and A Song of Ice and Fire are complete opposites. My Fairy Tail babies would give them something if they had to spend too much time in Westeros and that's something we can all agree on.

But all that aside, I'd really like to see something like that, and since no one has done it, I'll write down the general idea and quickly forget about it to move on.

So, from what I understand a lot of the shit that happens in Game of Thrones originates from everything that happened in House of the Dragon, and I'm really indifferent to Rhaenyra, and I don't give a damn about Alicent, Viserys and Daemon, for that matter. what they will be demolished by my brain bugs and cast aside. When the Dance of Dragons happened and the entire war almost took out the entire family, ruining many lives in the process, so that in the end Rhaenyra's son who took the throne was basically left with the worst part: half the family dead, a stupidly uncomfortable throne, equally stupid children, dragons finally becoming extinct, and a pitch-black future for the rest of the nation. It's screwed, but everything in Westeros is screwed, so to fix it my babies will arrive to spread love and affection until everyone vomits rainbows out of their asses.

Although it's not that I don't feel sorry for Rhaenyra and also for Rhaenys, because what happened to them was screwed, but they will be sacrifices for this, and by the time the little tyrant king that I will put up takes the throne, all the girls of the seven kingdoms will be empowered, just wait.

Suppose the gods of Planetos saw the future shit crashing into the fan and said "Shit, we're all screwed," so they decided to bring in the purest, noblest, most destructive souls in the entire cosmos to fix it for them, and they had It had to be early, so that the disasters to come could be corrected.

So here we go, and with shipper glasses, to spread the crumbs that Mashima denies us:

Natsu Dragneel dies at an advanced age without remorse or sorrow, he married the love of his life, an incredible woman, he had children, he had grandchildren and lived to meet his great-grandchildren, he belonged to an incredible guild and has even more incredible friends and companions. He died a satisfied man... and then he wakes up again to a pretty fucked up world, but hopefully he's not alone.

Nataerys Targaryen is born with great vigor and even greater lung strength, his newborn cries pierce the ears of everyone in a radius of an entire palace and his movements are strong even when he is barely minutes old, he is everything a father could wish. Thus, on a hot summer day in the year 82 AD, the son Aemon Targaryen and his wife Jocelyn Baratheon are born.

Although luckily for Natsu, and for Westeros itself, he is not the heir to his grandfather's throne, as most might think, no. That dubious honor belongs to his five years older brother, Zaeferon.

Zeref Dragneel, after causing a war and attempting an invasion all for the sake of destroying space-time and finally dying, was unexpectedly able to partially fulfill his wish (the most important part, in fact) thanks to the power of love and most impressive woman he knows. But it seems that whatever god cursed him still wanted to continue chewing him like the cosmic toy that he is and let him be reincarnated in a shitty world, where he has become the heir to the throne of an even worse country, and a family to boot where they marry relatives as close as sibligs, and my god, he has an older sister.

But not everything is as bad as it seems, he recognizes the face of one of his aunts and for a while, he and Lucy use their time to keep each other company, read and research about this lost Valyrian magic and comfort each other so that if all else fails and in the end they are the only ones here, then they can marry each other and live the rest of their days among books in peace.

Luckily, that only lasts until on a day so hot the rocks melt, Natsu arrives into this world making a scandal that stirs up the entire Red Keep and they are able to completely ditch the backup plan when Zaeferon again recognizes a face among them his cousins.

Moving forward with family introductions, Lucy Heartfilia is born three years after Zeref as Luciaenya Targaryen as the last and youngest of the daughters of King Jaehaerys Targaryen and his sister-wife Alysanne, and the younger twin sister of Gael Targaryen. Lucy attempts to complete the first rites of a baby's life at top speed and spends the next two years of her life with her chubby little arm wrapped around Zaeferon's, swearing that she'd rather marry him than any of her other siblings or nephews. Therefore, the noisy arrival of her husband from another life at the palace is the breath of fresh air she needs to relax and refresh her brain.

With this in mind, her next steps are how to manipulate her parents to allow her to marry her nephew two years younger, and how to get her beautiful and sweet Gael a husband who will treasure her, care for her and protect her, and most importantly , to get her out of this den of vipers that is her new home. Later she will think about how to help Zaeferon accumulate power to put his ass on that stupid throne and take over the place, with the future goal of empowering all the women in the country. Never let it be said that Zeref does not respect the opposite gender.

The last reborn within the royal family also turned out to be the person Zeref wanted to see the most, luckily for him.

Mavis Vermillion, passing away peacefully after helping the love of her life fulfill their mutual wish to finally rest in peace, and with hopes placed on her children to protect the guild, is reborn as the daughter of two siblings, Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen and being the older twin sister of Aegon Targaryen. However, as in another time, Princess Alyssa died six months after a difficult birth and her twin Aegon died before his first year, so Maevys Targaryen became the beloved little princess of her father Baelon and his sons Viserys and Daemon Targaryen.

After the initial panic of discovering that she could be forced to marry any of her older brothers, Maevys joined Luciaenya to help her in her family manipulation plans and somehow get her sometimes not very well-liked grandfather to allow her to marry his heir, and Maevys is nothing if not smart, so she'll pull it off somehow. This time she will walk down the aisle with Zeref, whether the gods want it or not.

With the mere arrival of the four to the royal family things are already changing, the seven kingdoms will shake when Lucy and Mavis finally put Zeref's lazy ass on the Iron Throne.

Other reincarnates include Gaery Stark, grandson of Alaric Stark and current lord of Winterfell known for his Skinchanger ability; his wife Julianne Tully, a half-Dornish whose maternal grandmother belonged to the Orphans of the Greenblood; Erza Connington, the first female knight in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, whose mother is the first female Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and daughter of Aerea Targaryen, Irene Connington; Gerard Arryn, stepson of Daella Targaryen and older brother of Aemma Arryn; Wendeline Royce, a young but prodigious healer who calls herself a doctor, and is one of Maevys Targaryen's ladies-in-waiting; Garrett Umber and his wife Levina Reed, who are in the service of Gaery Stark, of whom Garrett is a cousin on his mother's side; Laxion Lannister, whose grandfather Marrek Lannister married Vaella Targaryen, younger sister of Jaehaerys Targaryen, who is always accompanied by Fredegar Westerling, Bilrentheus Banefort and Everwood Serrett; and Laxion's wife, Maenora Velaryon, daughter of Victor Velaryon and Marybel Massey, who is the older sister of Saelora, Elaerion, Laenyra and Vaenyra Velaryon, who are equally reincarnated.

With this in mind, Fairy Tail has been given enough political power to destroy a continent and can only pray that there is some left after Zeref Dragneel is named king.

[sith-shenanigans]

For the ask game where we send you an NPC, Talos Drellik? (I am totally not jumping up and down at the thought of following up on some tags/replies you left a while ago about Ahene and Talos, not at all)

aaaa it makes me so happy that you liked the tags and were not annoyed by the tags (let me put this under a readmore because it’s going to be extremely long)

Okay! So! Bearing in mind that this is a living work and Hoth is a long way away and I don’t know all of what will change—

There is a very not-entirely-normal dynamic here because it doesn’t progress in intensity so much as progress in what, precisely, the intensity is made up of.

Ahene’s first introduction to Talos is along the lines of “do you really want to talk to that guy? He’s strange,” and this endears him to her immediately. Ahene’s second introduction to Talos is walking into a Reclamation Service camp and not feeling like she’s home.

(She does, in fact, think of the camp outside the Rakatan ruin where she largely grew up as being “home.” She also often thinks of herself as not having a home. Or of the ruin itself being home, and the camp not.)

It is important to know, here, that Ahene’s relationship to her trauma is much more in the “continues to be attracted back to it and to things that remind her of it” category rather than the “avoid all reminders forever on pain of flashbacks” category. She actively enforces these reminders on herself whenever she feels she’s acting too much like she’s free—early on, it’s because she believes she isn’t, even if she and her master are the only ones who know that. Later on, it’s because a lot of her self-image is tied up in not being a “typical Sith,” and in her mind, her ability to treat herself harshly is proof she isn’t one (isn’t Like The Others). She hasn’t forgotten who—or what—she really is.

By and large, she feels safer in unsafe situations. She understands hierarchical relationships better than equal ones. She doesn’t know how to be a person, and she’s terrified she’ll forget how to not be. Obviously, this makes her kind of hate being a Sith, but it also makes her kind of prefer being a Sith—the social dynamics are very, very easy for her, even if she doesn’t feel she deserves the loyalty she gets for it.

Back on Tatooine, she worked with a Reclamation Service crew, and it was the most familiar thing she’s done since Korriban, except that this time she was a Sith to them. Which was simultaneously awful and “hey, the terrible thing that happened to you? You’re going to exist in proximity to it forever but it can’t hurt you anymore.” (Which, to someone who keeps trying to yank on her own trauma to prove it can’t hurt her…) Then everything went terribly wrong and Silthar got very badly injured, and they were depending on her, and she has never been able to avoid feeling responsible under those circumstances.

But there’s still this given hanging over it that the responsibility is unrequited. People will be grateful to her as a Sith that helps and protects them—more grateful than she thinks she deserves for doing what she perceives as bare-minimum decency towards anyone she has power over—but if she had been below them, they wouldn’t have treated her the way she treats those below her. She wouldn’t have been one of their people. She would have been one of their tools.

(The greatest exercise in loyalty, in her mind, is to give it without caring if it’s returned. She still loathes the Empire for not returning it towards its people, almost as much or even more than she hates it for what it did to her planet, because if it took care of them then she wouldn’t have to do it—but that’s because Imperials believe they’re doing something good. She doesn’t. She just takes care of them anyway, because it may not be the right thing to do, but it still makes the galaxy a little more just.)

By the time she gets to Hoth, though, she’s just having an awful time. The inquisitor story in the game only has things get really bad at the start of Act III, and before that you’re kind of fine? But Ahene is not fine. Ahene is also aware that she’s not fine. It might have started subtly, but at this point she’s just trying to sell herself on the idea that she can handle it until Thanaton is dealt with and then she can let the ghosts go and everything will be, if not fine, relatively fixed enough that she can spend about a week curled into a little ball in the corner of her ship until she can function normally again.

But, you know, for the most part, the ways she’s Not Fine aren’t externally visible yet. There was an incident on Quesh where she used the ghosts’ power and kind of halfway lost control and partly life-drained Cineratus, but because she didn’t stop at the station to get anybody inoculated, the only one who actually saw that was Khem. And she didn’t really… explain that. She hasn’t told anyone that she feels hollow all the time and barely gets physically hungry and hears the ghosts talking to her even when she isn’t alone. She can hide it. She can handle it. She doesn’t have enough of an advantage yet. This is enough this will be enough she can still put a stop to it.

So she arrives on Hoth, and she shows up at a Reclamation Service camp expecting for it to feel normal again—enough that it’s easy to slot into the proper role, that she doesn’t have to think about it. She knows the responsibility and the resentment, the fact that something about it always seems safer than anywhere else she’s been.

It doesn’t feel normal. It feels just a little bit like she hates everyone there.

(Or, more accurately, like somebody does. Ahene hates like hell freezes over—rarely, slowly, and with a sort of cold contempt that burns mostly in how impersonal it can be. But the spirits in the back of her mind know how to hate, and they’re much too happy to share.)

Talos looks at this Sith Lord, who appears to be unusually scruffy and looks like she’s developed dark side corruption without the glowing eyes, and—unlike Andronikos, unlike Silthar, unlike Sarnova, unlike Zaril—doesn’t come to the conclusion that someone needs to parent her. She’s moved a bit past giving off that energy. Instead he comes to the conclusion that she’s about to deliver the most fascinating problem he’s encountered this year, which is (because Talos is Talos) really what he finds ideal in a Sith.

Ahene looks at this strange, mostly fearless little archaeologist, and discovers that she is not immune to being treated like a totally reasonable and decent individual who is here for the love of history despite every indication otherwise. Many people make this discovery around Talos.

Their early interactions are still… fascinating. His aura of “everyone I talk to is fundamentally a decent fellow” can only do so much, especially since his version of “rationalizing” all the terrible things about the Empire is sweeping them all into a bucket of “things I can’t do anything about” to hyperfixate on archaeology. Ahene keeps him at arm’s length like she’s learned to do with most people. Ahene gets sucked into talking shop with him. They discover, to Talos’s delight and Ahene’s pleased-despite-herself annoyance, that they share a sense of humor. He treats his probe droids better than some people treated her, and exactly the same way that other people treated her. She gets attached to them too.

Somewhere in there—either before they find Horak-Mul or after, though I’m leaning towards before—he asks about her first dig.

She tells him it was the Verios ruin. The face he makes tells her everything she would have needed to know about Darth Kelshrin’s reputation with the Service, if she hadn’t already been aware.

Delicately, like someone trying to thread a conversational needle with as few actual words as possible, Talos suggests that you hear things about that dig, and they aren’t very good. People don’t like to talk about it, if they manage to get reassigned.

She says that she’s one of the reasons that people don’t like to talk about it, and watches him struggle to reconcile that with her entire demeanor for a moment, then clarifies that she was one of the children they had—probably still have—doing probe-work.

Because of course it does, this horrifies him. She shrugs and comments that she hadn’t realized Kelshrin was that much of an outlier; haven’t there ever been slaves on any of your digs? Talos starts to protest that yes, but none of them were children, and comes to the mid-sentence conclusion that actually, she doesn’t care.

His mouth clicks shut. They sit in silence for a little bit.

When he next speaks, he tells her that he’s sorry he wasn’t there.

She says that most people would have put an ‘and’ in the middle of that sentence. They would have found it absolving, that they weren’t there. And he makes a face, and says that yes, that’s true, but still—he wishes he’d been there. That perhaps he could have done something, if he had been. That at least he could have been—better than the others.

I’m sure you would have been, she says, touching his shoulder, in a voice that would be a threat if any of the bitterness were directed at him. It isn’t a threat. It’s just that half of her doesn’t believe him, and doesn’t blame him, and the other half wants to believe him—and hates so very much that someone like him existed this whole time, and never came for her.

They don’t talk very much about that part of her background, after that. She never makes a secret of what she was—it’s the first thing anyone knows about her anyway, the trash apprentice who brought back the Dark Temple expedition—but while she’ll talk about the ruin like it’s simultaneously a deathtrap and a lost home, she doesn’t tell him about the Service camp. It’s their armistice; it wouldn’t be fair.

She doesn’t blame him for what happened to her childhood. He doesn’t look at her like he’s afraid of her when she loses control of the ghosts’ power, when he walks in on her having snapping arguments with thin air, when the ghosts’ memories and personalities start leaking in and she reacts to something he said about the Great Hyperspace War like she was there.

It’s difficult not to care deeply about someone who sees you at your absolute, utter worst—half-dead, half-possessed, still suffering from a Horror Hunger despite knowing that there are few things she needs less than other people’s life energy—and treats it like it’s simply something that’s happening, and no more terrifying than any other serious illness.

He’s the one she goes to one night, when she needs to tell someone how terrified she is to die. He’s the only member of her crew she doesn’t feel some need to be strong for.

(He is, maybe, the person she tells that she thinks she could exorcise the ghosts. That she hasn’t tried, because she’s scared that it would work.)

It’s important that—by this point—he doesn’t feel like he has to be strong with her, either. He doesn’t have to pretend that he doesn’t notice how bad things are, or keep up a cheerful front through it, the way he nearly always does. It’s not that his cheerful front is insincere—it’s not that he’s lying—but that’s how he’s always dealt with his emotions, the same as Ahene deals with them by scrunching them up into a little ball and taking another step no matter what. They aren’t people who know how to seek comfort in other people, most of the time. Talos doesn’t have childhood trauma the way she has childhood trauma, but he did very much grow up in an abusive environment that he generally dismisses as “not so bad as all that” with a wave of his hand. So it’s… something, that they can be scared together of what’s going to come.

(This could so easily be read as romantic. It is not remotely. It’s also not remotely parental on Talos’s part. It’s just a very unlikely bordering-on-queerplatonic friendship.)

When Ahene walks out of the Dark Council chambers on Korriban with Thanaton’s body (Teneb Kel’s body) in her arms and a title she didn’t ask for or want, Talos makes sure the body ends up in a cryostasis tube until it can be properly entombed. When they head for Dromund Kaas right after, because the planet is being invaded, when she makes for the Dark Temple immediately when they arrive in the aftermath—Talos waits for her at the Dark Temple approach.

When she calls him and asks him to get another stasis chamber and never breathe a word of it to anyone, he does it, because they would trust each other with anything.

Up to and including the body of the Emperor’s Voice.

(The next couple months, she barely remembers, because she was under so much pressure and so much of the same kind of pressure that her dissociative memory issues cropped up again and turned it into a soup of events that 2V had to record and summarize for her. But Talos quite frequently knew what she was doing better than she did, at least when it came to the fact that she suddenly had to run the Reclamation Service. This has always been a team effort. Between her and all her crew, but still especially between the two of them.)

[npc opinions]