#i have so much more to say on it but i shall leave it on that for now lmao

[illyrianslut]

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

Masterlist | Ao3

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I’m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

[hivemuthur]

If it’s okay to request, may I request hcs or something with Viktor where he’s dating an autisc reader?

Okay, first of - I have no idea what I have done to be granted such trust, thank you so much Anon! I have been provided amazing advice from @rennethen while writing this and done some research and I hope, I hope, I hope it meets expectations.

ViktorXAutistic!Reader HeadCannons

viktorxgn!reader mature, fluff and again: Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men

author’s note: I have decided to not include tics, as they come in so many variations and I didn't want to impose anything upon Readers, but I can imagine Viktor being a total sweetheart about them.

word count: 1,4K

—

Since your first meeting, Viktor has been smitten with your bluntness and your ability to take his acrimonious jokes apart without a hint of incredulity in your voice. The way you keep asking subsidiary questions until you dig through the layers of his sass to the actual thing he meant to say  leaves his soul naked as day, every single time. Finally, an inquisitive mind, he thinks to himself, as you go for the killing blow:

“So, what you’ve meant to say is that you find me attractive?”

“Eh, I suppose that is what I meant,” he admits dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “Though usually I tend to be a little bit less straight forward.”

“I prefer straight forward,” you tell him with wide eyes.

“I… I shall remember that.”

Viktor soon realises that being asked a lot of questions makes him blush in a funny way and his chest gets all fuzzy. So, he begins to share every little aspect of his work with you. The more questions you ask, the warmer his heart gets and somehow the way you get excited about his ideas is worth more than any other academical pat on the back he ever received.

Before asking you out for the first time, Viktor conducts a thorough research, not very different to the ones he conducts for the sake of a thesis. He finds out what are your favourite places and favourite spots to sit. He books two reservations, just in case.

He does the same thing when you try out a new place. Just in case. It has proven useful only once.

As a man who values routine, he finds it absolutely endearing that good things remain in your orbit for a long time and discovers that being greeted with his own name by the barista is actually a nice little feeling.

When he asked you if he could kiss you for the first time, he held his breath while you were reconsidering. He found it hard not to laugh stupidly and nod his head a couple times too many when you responded with the same question.

He cupped your face and brushed his thumb on your lip tentatively. At first, he just rubbed his nose against yours. Then, his cheek, as he pulled you closer. You decided his hair smelled nice and that he could proceed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at first, because he was wearing an incredibly itchy jumper, so you settled on his neck, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you deeper.

When you told him about it he gave the jumper to Caitlyn, and even though the sleeves are not long enough for her, she wears it often. Gradually, Viktor is in the process of exchanging his wardrobe to touch-friendly materials, currently he is half-way through. He wears the offensive clothes to meetings with Jayce, because Jayce will hug even a hedgehog.

You teach Viktor the value of comfort, not just in the clothing department. Suddenly he finds that his blankets are softer and that his flat increased the base number of cushions.

He religiously cuts the tags out of your clothes and his work is so precise it’s as if the tag was never there in the first place.

Viktor will still periodically ask for a permission to touch you, only to hear “Yes, please.” And it still makes him blush.

He keeps two notebooks—one on your current food fixations. He writes down a start date of each and marks every little alteration. He examines the lifecycle of each dish, as you eat it every day for a month and suddenly stop, to move on to the next one. On the back of the notebook he has a list of old reliables.

The second notebook, he treats more seriously—it’s a journal of stimming. He makes a note of each gesture in order to recognize your emotions better. After a while he is able to tell if you are feeling overwhelmed, just excited or trying to concentrate.

He is completely bemused by the fact that you always know what entered the bowl first—the cereal or the milk.

When you unconsciously repeat words back at him in his accent he makes it intentionally heavier, because he finds in unbearably cute.

After some time, he’s learned to recognise when you are masking. When it happened for the first time, he allowed himself a pinch of panic. Only when you unravelled at home, he sighed, partially relieved, and made a note of it in his journal.

Viktor carries a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you go out together. He puts them on you if you get overstimulated and presents you with something else to shift your focus into—a tight hug, a smell or he presses gently on your shoulders to steady you.

If you happen to have a meltdown at either of your homes, he wordlessly prepares you your favourite food and stays close enough for you to reach. Sometimes, he does a full body scan with you, to see which part requires the most attention.

There are certain sounds that Viktor makes which you particularly like—the click of his tongue, the intercepting ‘ehs’ and ‘ahs’—and once he connects the dots between him making those and a smile that always blooms on your face, he produces as many as he can, while still sounding natural.

He enjoys just existing with you. Sitting in the same room, while he works, and you read is his definition of a happy place. Just glancing over to you, your tongue filling your cheek as you read something particularly interesting, the small sounds you make at turning points in the story make his heart flutter.

He finds himself involuntarily memorizing the lyrics of the songs you play on repeat. He has no idea who the artist are, but he knows their songs by heart now. It makes him feel old, in a funny way.

It completely disarms him, when you return his gifts. After three futile attempts to give you something of popular romantic demand, he scolded himself for not changing the method soon enough. Instead of jewellery, he encourages your special interests, through getting you books on the topics or taking you places that embody your passions.

On the other side of the coin, your gifts are deeply appreciated. Every little pebbling trinket has it’s special place in the box on his desk. He takes them out periodically and counts how many times a tiny detail in the chaos of the outside world has made you think of him.

For dates, Viktor chooses times and days in which the world is less crowded. Instead of a busy Saturday night, you go out in the middle of the week. After a particularly failed attempt of gifting you perfume, Viktor takes you to a balm perfume workshop, where you can make scents for each other that are buildable and unoffensive to sensitive skin.

He’s built an intimacy with you that is based on trust and constant checking. He takes care of the mood and gives you enough stops to reconsider on the way.

You both talk a lot during sex. A change of mind is natural and there is enough space made for it. He has learned a lot about himself, and his self-esteem strengthened, when he realised that, ‘I don’t like it,’ doesn’t mean ‘I don’t like you.’

If, for whatever reason, the communication turns nonverbal, you both have come up with a system of pats that signals where each of you should direct your attention.

Your inquisitive mind helped him find three additional positions, in which he feels comfortable and painless, and it eludes him entirely how he could have missed them.

Viktor’s favourite part of aftercare is cuddling you naked. He adores the way your warm body melts into his. If you add head scratches to it, he will fall asleep in your arms. He breaths in the smell of your hair and his heart beat evens out with yours.

[y0ur-lovrr]

—A fighter, huh?

A/n:Im not really sure If this may be a bit out of character for him, but I wrote this when I was half asleep forgive me! 😭

I will also say that I will take requests for posts if you want to leave a submission and what not-enjoy reading! <3

Pairing; Chishiya Shuntaro x reader <3 (no gender applied I don’t think)

—chishiya hums quietly under his breath to himself as he situates himself against the railing of the hotel building, his eyes watching the floors below as the tagger moves, the sound of bullets hitting bodies and the footsteps of players and the tagger.

He got high up to get a good view of the other floors, an advantage point of finding the symbol needed to clear this game of ‘tag’.

Safe to say, it’s been a little boring to him, not having a clear idea of where the symbol is yet, but he doesn’t draw his eyes away.

Until something catches his attention, the sight of an altercation happening at one of the lower floors, between the tagger..and a player, or a couple of players.

“A fighter? Interesting..” he hums with a slightly smirk, leaning forward slightly, the slight breeze making his hair sway slightly from underneath his hood, but he just watches.

He recognizes one of the players as aguni, since he was a military man at the beach, so him being a fighter was expected. But even he was close to be downed. The other being a guy with blonde hair and an orange pull over shirt, bleeding from his side and leaning against the wall-probably got hit in an artery.. if chishiya could recall his name was Karube or something along the sort, he heard his friend call him that earlier at the starting point. But he wasn’t really paying attention.

But the one that caught his attention was the person actually fighting majority of it. Your moves were maybe a little sloppy, but it made it almost graceful with the way you were throwing punches left and right, ducking to avoid any hits-and it works in your favor considering the tagger’s gun was left laying on the floor.

“Hmmm…” he huffs out with a light snicker, clearly interested as he watches, even from here he can see that you were kind of roughed up-but not as much as he thought you would be. A bloody nose and maybe a busted lip, and he can just imagine how scratched up your knuckles were.

He watches as you throw another punch at the tagger-hitting them right in the face, hard enough to make them stumble back, before they suddenly lift their leg and kick at you, the hit hitting you right in your stomach, sending you stumbling back into the railing, back harshly landing into it, and he’s sure it would leave a bruise.

“Damn it..anyone tell you that kicking is a cheap move?” Your voice mumble out with a small grunt, lifting one of your hands to wipe the blood off of your nose. If he was an idiot he would have thought you were done-but he was no idiot.

Chishiya huffs out another light snicker of amusement as he watches as you throw yourself forward and collide yourself with the tagger, sending both you and them down the stairs, and he can hear the noise of you guys thudding down the stairs with grunts, giving Karube and Aguni to help find the symbol.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He mumbles to himself under his breath as he sees that’s theirs only 10 minutes left of the game, taking off his hood and turning and walking, having an idea where the symbol is-Arisu having the same idea

After the game is cleared, Chishiya and Aguni are walking out of the building, before Aguni stops and turns to a different direction, looking at something, making Chishiya raise a brow slightly and look over too.

“Damn kid took on majority of that fight like an idiot.” Aguni huffs out gruffly as he shakes his head, watching as you stand a few feet away from them, your head tilted back with your hand lightly against your nose, clearly trying to not get any more blood on your shirt.

“C’mon…I like this shirt…” you huff under your breath, annoyance in your voice along with a hint of pain, Chishiya lets out a small huff, finding it quite amusing that your shirt is what you were worried about.

“You might have a broken nose, you know..and your priority is your shirt, how straight forward that is.” He calls out casually, hands shoved in his pockets as if he wasn’t just at deaths door with his close this game got.

“So? It’ll heal. And I can’t get blood out of a shirt, it’ll just stain.” You retort with a huff, turning your head to look over at them, and lightly glaring at Chishiya, not finding his comment very amusing.

Chishiya quietly scoffs in reply, a slight smirk dancing across his lips, and Aguni isn’t really amused by your back and forth either. But before either of them can get another word out, you speak up for them.

“Man, you got roughed up, guess we kind of underestimated the dude, huh?” You mumble with a hint of sarcasm in it-referring to how Aguni told you and Karube that the tagger was a human and probably easy to beat with the three of you. Though he won’t admit that it was harder than expected. Aguni couldn’t help but scoff at your snarky comment, speaking as if you weren’t also a bit roughed up.

“But I had fun, so hopefully next time we meet I’ll be able to fight someone with you again.” You mutter with an amused huff and pat Aguni on the shoulder in a sort of mocking way-but he couldn’t really tell, you were kind of hard to read, but once again you don’t let them speak as you push past them and call out to Arisu and Karube in the distance.

“Hey! Can we go see Chota now? I wanna tell him about how I beat the hell out of that guy!” You exclaim enthusiastically as you jog slightly to catch up to them, Chishiya watching as you and your friends figures disappear into the dark streets.

“Hmm…she’s a fighter huh? And a good one at that.” He hums and slightly raises a brow at Aguni who just huffs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly and gesturing for him to follow along as he heads away from the building, planning on going back to the The Beach. And Chishiya follows after him, you were definitely a character, that’s for sure. And he couldn’t help but wonder what’ll happen when he sees you again. You’ll most likely meet in another game anyway. But, he was interested in when that’ll be.

[quirekey]

Starlita? I would never have thought of that, and personally, I'm not into straight ships... but there really is something about Starlita... I like it, I like it a lot... I think I need more of them... Can I get a ficlet with them? 👉👈

WELL TIME TO CHANGE UR MIND STARLITA MY GOAT IENCEURNI I shall grant you part 2 of a Starlita fic

DISCLAIMER: If you do not enjoy Starlita, pls scroll ^^

[ STARSCREAM ] x [ ELITA ONE ]

[ starscream x elita one ]

Part 1

“… Bumblebee told you, didn’t he?”

”Yeah, but I’m not complaining.”

START OF PART 2

The two stood in silence, the awkward tension rising. None of them wanted to really say anything or make a move. Elita decided to make the first move and pulled him into her. She didn’t care if she was barely shorter, she just needed to take care of Starscream’s cowardly nature. She pulled the both of them flushed together and scoffed at his scowled and tinted face.

”Hey! What are you-“

Elita hugged Starscream harder, telling him silently to shut up and embrace what they're having right now.

”… What are you doing?”

”I’m flirting with you, what else? You're not brave enough to try.”

Elita spoke up sarcastically, smirking. Starscream just sighed and looked away with his face still scowled. He was obviously enjoying the moment but he couldn’t admit it. Elita slowly got off him and decided to make her leave.

“Right, too fast. I’ll see you in the next meeting then.”

Elita took her leave, heading straight to her quarters. She left Starscream with a lingering feeling that mixed his spark. Her straight-forward and sarcastic attitude really did something to him. He hated this feeling as much as he hated her. Why did she come in and love-bomb him so suddenly? She isn’t the type of bot to do that, is she?

Starscream isn’t the type to care or overthink but he had this passive crush linger on him for so long and suddenly Bumblebee decided to tell her his secret? He was absolutely stunned to the core and flustered, heat filling his frame.

‘She can’t just leave me because I’m superior!’ He silently thought. He wanted this stupid femme-bot back right now. The denial he had that he already started missing her was pretty heavy, but he knew he’ll be able to see her in the next meeting.

During the time before the meeting, the encounter brought up so many questions. What were they? Does Elita like him back? Why does he miss her so much? What even is going on? Starscream gripped at his helm and stared down at his command centre, what in the world is he gonna do and what will even happen? He wanted to know but he was also secretly afraid of rejection. But what could he do..?

He got up and decided to walk around outside to freshen his processor. Starscream felt a wave of relief wash over and just walked around the currently-being-fixed Iacon.

A vibration suddenly went off and he opened his database, receiving a reminder that he needed to attend a meeting with Megatron, Optimus and Elita immediately. Of course he forgot… He transformed into flight-mode and flew off.

[jackalope-patronus]

An un-promised dance.

summary :: part two to this. Sebastian finally takes a breath from his ego to reach out to you, however you won’t be quick to forget how he treated you this time.

note :: thank you all dearly for the recent support, I so appreciate it.

Even with your nose deep in a book, and all the will in the world, you still couldn’t drift into study and away from your plight; Sebastian.

“So you’re not talking to me then, are you?” He asked.

Your chest balled in anger, but you refused to let it out. Instead, you slapped your book shut and stood. Sebastian’s attitude quickly failed and he took your arm, standing. The whole study room seemed to cease its already low chattering and stare at you.

“Wait a moment. I’m sorry, alright? Just— talk to me, please.”

Rich, oh it was rich to see him pathetically grasping your arm, with those green eyes looking at you like… like that! I can’t stand your cold shoulder. I can’t stand to have you turn away from me in the halls. Can’t stand not having you by my side. The look said.

However you interpreted it to say I can’t stand you ignoring me, only I’m allowed to ignore you. And given Sebastian’s recent actions you’d be right to think so.

“Why should I, Sebastian.” It was no ask, more of an exasperated demand.

“Because we’re bound to make up, might as well get it over with now.” He really did seem to believe that and likely couldn’t comprehend that you’d been seriously contemplating if your friendship with Sebastian was worth these brief but hard moment of turmoil. Wondering if it was time you outgrew him.

“And what about when you were ignoring me?” You asked.

“I knew we’d find our way back.” It was as easy as stating his favourite colour.

You exhaled, and with your breath the frustration filling your chest left. “Alright.” Truely you hated how much you relented to him, but it wasn’t as though you were accepting his friendship just yet. You were still being guarded. He could see it in your furrowed brow and tense shoulders. Half the other students ‘studying’ could see it, too.

“Seems we have a bit of an audience, though. Shall we leave?” He asked, a sliver of a smile forming on his lips.

You only sighed as an answer, took your book and quill and followed Sebastian wherever he wanted to take you. Which happened to be the undercroft.

You both stepped through the entrance, Sebastian offering his hand for balance and you taking it very reluctantly. Truthfully, you missed his warm hands. You hated it was the first thought you had when he touched you.

You put space between him, finding a pillar to lean on, still holding your stone (slightly broken) cold face.

"It has been a while since you've visited the undercroft, hasn't it?" His brown eyes flickered to you, then to the lanterns you once lit up with incendio.

I know. You thought. I missed it. But you weren't ready to admit that to him. "Sebastian, you didn't take me from my studying for reminiscing, did you?" You wished the words left you harsher, but you'd never been the type to have a tone about you.

"Not entirely. Thought some fond memories might cool you off." You wondered if he meant it as a jab, or was just being plain genuine. You decided you'd better look as if you didn't care. He continued on, "I've felt your absence, you know. It has been hard to concentrate on things when I've been wondering when I'll be able to catch you next." He wasn’t speaking recently, this was about before the ball.

"I-" You sighed, you had known Sebastian was off for some time, but you hadn't known this was the reason. Your absence was angering him, causing his duelling to be subpar, it could've leaked into other aspects of his life, but you'd been too preoccupied to notice. Were you truely neglecting a friend? Or was Sebastian being unreasonable? You wished Ominis was here to give you the answer.

It seemed the anger you were so keen to hang onto had fizzled out like sparks of a fire. You couldn't find the words. Another silence, and Sebastian decided he wasn't done confessing his sins to you.

“You hadn’t been asked for so long because of me.”

“Pardon?” You lifted your head, not sure you quite caught what he'd said.

“To the ball. I had… staked my claim on you, so to speak. A few of the boys knew I’d had plans to ask you, so they never did. But Sweeting— well I never expected a girl to ask you.” That confession seemed to chip at his confidence because he looked away and pulled at his tie.

“Oh,” you accepted. Merlin. Why couldn’t you be mad? Why weren’t you getting mad? Why weren’t you bubbling with rage at his blatant possessiveness. The answer was all too simple, really, you liked it. Especially when it was directed at you.

"Oh..." Sebastian repeated, attempting to understand your accepting tone.

"Oh." You nodded.

"You're not mad?" He cautiously asked.

"I am," you lied, "I can't believe you'd be so... self righteous. I don't belong to you and you're selfish for thinking you're able to take away other people's right to ask me to a ruddy ball." The words began to convince you.

Sebastian seemed relived by your returning frustration, as did you. "I'm sorry."

"Good. You're lucky things ended the way they did, I had a lovely time with Poppy and truthfully I don't regret a thing," another lie. You were only able to enjoy Poppy's presence for a mere moment, all the while Sebastian was plaguing your mind. And you did have regrets. Regrets you weren't able to consider other options, or go with a close friend and specifically attend with Sebastian. It was all so utterly stupid and feeble that you had to take a moment and remember the ball was over and that you'd never have to deal with these petty dramas again.

Another silence befall you two, although Sebastian seemed to be distracted by the thoughts hammering his head.

"Do you love her?" He asked,

“Poppy?” You gaped.

“Yes.”

“Well I— she’s lovely but—”

“Then is it Ominis?”

“What?”

“Me, then?”

You exhaled pitifully, “oh Sebastian, why do you torture yourself?”

That seemed to be answer enough, because Sebastian rose his chest and the longing left his face. "Don't say another word. Come here tonight, wear something nice. Don't tell anyone else."

He had taken to ushering you out of the undercroft, patting your back and edging you to the exit. “Sebastian—”

“I’ll be here, don’t worry. Go, go.”

You wondered when Sebastian told you to wear something nice… did he mean nice or nice? You’d decided to play it safe and stick with evening wear, simple but elegant.

Although, as you opened to entrance to the undercroft and was faced with the room looking cleaner than you’d ever seen it, you silently cursed for not putting more effort into the way you looked.

“Sebastian?” You stepped further inside and was met with a simple melody ringing around the room. Oh Merlin, he’s set up a personal Yule ball date just for the two of us.

The only thing missing was the boy himself, so you decide to take a deep breath and try your best to prepare yourself for whatever attempt at an apology (or confession?) this would be. Already you could feel yourself crumbling into him, despite not being near the boy at all.

Checking to make sure Sebastian was nowhere around, you took out your wand and tapped on the casual fabrics you put on, then your hair until you looked just as put together as you did at the actual Yule ball.

Just in time, too, because the gears of the entrance began clicking and before you knew it, Sebastian was stepping through in his suit with an untied tie in his hands.

“You’re early,” he stumbled out, eyes gazing over you.

“You said tonight, it’s night, isn’t it?” You clasped your hands together, suddenly wishing you were back in your casual clothes.

“You’re right at that.” He stated, holding the tie behind himself.

“Want me to do that for you?” You asked, taking a gentle step towards him.

He handed it to you, “thanks, I can’t say I’m any good at bow ties.”

“Famously,” you laughed, thinking of Ominis’ wonky tie from when you danced with him, “I don’t know if I’ll be any good, but..” you trailed, sliding the fabric around his neck and under his collar.

You caught Sebastian staring for a moment but his eyes darted past you and his jaw tightened. “You look nice.”

“As do you,” you returned. His throat bobbed as you looped the tie. “There, all done.” You had, for a moment, inched back and as though your warmth was a fire during a relentless winter, Sebastian grabbed for you, keeping you close. Quickly, he corrected himself, taking your hand and waist as though he meant to pull you into a waltz. You stumbled a little, but kept composure.

“Shall we?”

You nodded gently and he took you into himself and along a dance with the echoed music. This was how it was meant to be, you think, the two of us. As you melt into the familiarity of his frame and his smell you considered that people who harp on about soulmates are perhaps onto something.

You let yourself relax into him and in response, Sebastian took more of you, whisking you around whilst you embrace him.

As though he’d been clouded with thoughts Sebastian suddenly said, “you’re very dear to me.”

You sighed contently and met his eyes, “you have a funny way of showing it.”

“I know— but you know it, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“That I— care for you.” More tipped on his tongue, but he kept the confession in.

“I do.” You smiled tiredly, you always did know. “Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Tell me, please.”

"I love you, Sebastian.” You squeezed his laxing shoulders kindly and could see a lightness reach his eyes, as though many sleepless nights had been lifted from him.

“I love you too.” He returned very quickly. You breathed a laugh, and he clutched your side tightly. “What?” He crooned, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s appalling how long it took to get us here.” You shook your head.

“I’ll only partially take the blame for that.” He grinned.

“Only partially?”

“Well, I’ll take all the blame if you promise to stay with me.”

“I promise, Sebastian.”

@moonjellyfishie @thegoodnamesaretaken @ameliaphoenix

[coraniaid]

Actually, on reflection, I think I'm persuaded that the "poor Willow is a magical junkie now and it's not her fault :(" subplot in Season 6 is, contrary to what I've said before, actually the worst multi-episode subplot on Buffy.

Say what you like about the other two contenders for that honor: the non-mystery of "is Giles really the First Evil and why hasn't anyone thought to check yet?" or the banality of "shall we engage seriously with the fact Spike has a soul now and how that might change him as a person, or shall we just say that a mean ghost hypnotized him?". But neither of those plots involve a woman telling her significant other (and I am really not paraphrasing much at all here) "I don't like that you used magic to violate my mind and rob me of my ability to consent to our relationship, because it's not good for you".

Moreover:

While the two Season 7 subplots are both pretty bad and boring to watch and are certainly part of why I don't enjoy that season, I don't think removing or somehow rewriting either of them would automatically make the season much better. By contrast, the Willow subplot of Season 6 is the worst thing about that season -- one which I think otherwise had a lot of potential and is arguably the most ambitious season the show ever did -- and fixing it would improve the season as a whole a lot.

The Willow subplot also takes up a lot more of the show overall than the two Season 7 subplots do. Giles as the First is a complete waste of everyone's time, but it's also fully resolved in less than half a dozen episodes (we first get the fake out that Giles might be dead in Never Leave Me, the ninth episode of the season, and we see that he isn't in The Killer In Me, the thirteenth episode). The Spike hypnotic trigger lasts a lot longer, but it still over within about half a season. But the Willow subplot dominates most of Season 6 and also continues to have ramifications for WIllow's character development (or lack thereof) for the rest of the show.

It's easy, I think, to understand why the writers resorted to the two Season 7 plots. They needed some excuse for Buffy's friends to not trust Spike, but for various reasons are committed to the idea that having a soul means Spike himself is now inherently Good and Blameless and so the reasons not to trust him can't be related to anything he's ever chosen to do himself, it has to be something done to him against his will. And the writers obviously stopped caring about Giles as a character with any sort of inner life the very minute ASH asked to be partially written out of the show so he could move back to England. I honestly don't believe the writers were capable of writing good subplots for either Giles or Spike by this point, even if they'd tried. But the Willow subplot comes out of nowhere and completely derails what was going to be a really interesting story line about Willow that the show had been patiently building towards since at least Season 3 and arguably even longer.

More broadly, both the Season 7 plots are bad in part because they are attempts to make the First -- previously a forgettable monster of the week whose primary powers included 'making people who have done bad things feel suitably bad' and 'not being able to touch anything'; a plot device which Buffy herself already rightly dismissed as all talk all the way back in Season 3 ("I get it. You're evil. Do we have to chat about it all day?"). Of course they're not successful attempts: there's no way to make the First as menacing and important as the writers wish it was. Being annoyed at the way they fail almost seems like missing the point.

Most importantly, I can more cheerfully ignore the two Season 7 subplots because I don't really care about either Spike or Giles at this point of the show's run. But I like Willow, so it bothers me more that she's subjected to all this dreadfully bad writing and that her character never really quite recovers from it.

[numberonetacostan]

Tacomic is a bit of a double edged sword, atleast for me personally.

On one hand they're my favourite ship in basically all of II but at the same time they are very angsty and I get very emotional (they have made me feel physically sick genuinely) even in the most fics about them there's angst I don't know how I keep getting into angsty ships.

Some episodes of II are honestly kind of hard to rewatch even though it's currently my hyperfixation just because of emotions.

With that I want to put more focus on fluff for Tacomic (in this ask) since as much as the angst is well written I want to be able to actually call something a comfort without being sadder from it then I was before.

I want to add fluff of my own and not just ask if you have them but at the same time most of mine are in either the little post canon I made in my head where Suitcase spent the majority of the million on therapy or an au with significantly different events to canon.

I could say that they probably got better at communicating post canon (not perfect because it's Tacomic they need some time) but better mainly with how badly it got messed up in hatching the plan (with Taco still being stuck on the idea Mic wanted recognition and not really anything else and such)

(I hope this makes sense but I made this after a fankid au made me sad and decided to ask about fluff after that)

-🦭

Hi Seal!!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for your submission!! :]

They are very angsty, and I'm sorry to hear that makes it difficult for you to indulge in tacomic content. I hear you with some episodes being tough!! I struggle with second hand embarrassment from media, yeah? So the first part of the season 3 finale can be tough for me lol. I always have to skip Balloon's first finalist speech despite how much I love him.

Honestly? I think Suitcase would dedicate at least some of her victory money to therapy. They all need it and Suitcase would probably be willing to provide the funds for anyone who wants it to get that help.

But anyways!! Ask and you shall receive, tacomic fluff headcanons!

Speaking of fluff, I think Taco's lettuce end up all floofy, messy, and puffed up after she sleeps in a bed. The fabric of the pillowcase and blanket just make her lettuce all messy!! She'd, of course, make sure to fix it up before she leaves their room. This does not stop Mic from taking pictures of a very fluffy Taco while she's still asleep. She has an entire album on her phone dedicated to sleepy Taco pictures.

Taco will hold things for Mic in her shell!! The space inside her shell is fully off limits to everyone else, but if Mic needs something stored for her, Taco will pretend to do it reluctantly. She'd be rather happy to do it, really, and Mic can tell. Although, Mic would not be allowed to reach inside Taco's shell, because that would be rather uncomfortable for her I think, but Mic would respect that boundary and thus Taco would be happy to carry things for her.

I think Taco and Mic sometimes still have conversations from a distance!! If Mic is at the mansion and Taco is out in the woods, Mic will turn her volume and gain up and just... yell out to Taco. Who will yell back so Mic can pick up her voice. And they can chat for a bit until someone requests that Mic stop shouting, since it's so loud.

I believe it would be quite funny if Mic got distracted while she and Taco were holding hands, and quickly raised both her arms. Taco is quite short of course, so this would entire lift Taco up into the air, or just. Remove her arm. I have my little headcanon about Taco's arms being detachable like her toppings, and I do think it would be quite funny if that was the first time anyone saw one of Taco's arms detach. There would be quite a panic until Taco puts her arm back in like nothing happened.

Mic is very gentle with Taco! Her shell is fragile, yeah? So feather-light kisses, the smallest slightest squeezes when they hug!! In exchange, eventually, Taco squeezes Mic as hard as she can when they hug. I think Mic would enjoy it!!^^

Hopefully these will suffice!!! :)

[prodixal]

"Nonsense. I do not play with you." he rejects the words with a shake of his head, a playful grin still on. "That is entirely your domain." it was not, though she was winning. He could never get quite as clever as she could, her mind amused him greatly in that sense. Or perhaps he simply got distracted -- by the way she lifted her chin, and nudge him with her eyes. Or the way her hands reached for him, as if it was the single most casual thing in the world. Perhaps it had been. It was certainly starting to feel like it. "I will make sure never to meet anyone new ever again then, on an off chance they might turn out more unpredictable than you." In moments like this, beneath the jokes such as these, Rickon believed to have spotted a strange pattern. And it came with a suspicion that she might actually fear someday being replaced -- perhaps even just as much as he did. The thought spread warm over his chest, and he shifted slightly closer to her side. Her laugh is followed by his own, and his head leans upon hers as she slips her arm through the crack of his crossed hands. Rickon cannot help but beam at her words, as if without even knowing -- she had offered exactly what he had always wished to hear. Even if it was only in jest. "Well, when you put it like that..." he starts, grin wide and endearing. "I will gladly be horse shit stuck to your giant shoe." how romantic, he thinks, perhaps with a few more words it could sound about as amusing as his childhood poetry. "I certainly do...see the appeal, that is. Even if you would grow so very bored of me." His brows rise as she pulls away from under his arm, and he will lift the other in defence with a grin spread on. "Alright alright ,I shall leave your boy alone." he says through a huff of a laugh as she's linking their palms again. He lets the gesture warm him, and eyes trace over her fingers as her words ease over a sense of slight insecurity. "Aye, sometimes one does." He will pull her close then anyway, and a smile will arise. "And sometimes not."

-

Her head against his chest soothes him, and he will let the moment end only as she pulls away to face him once again. His jaw clenches slightly as he swallows, looking down to her eyes, as he dives into words of gentle reassurance. She was so close now, so close to understanding just exactly what he had feared. What had plagued his mind. Only, it was not the kiss which had inspired such a fear, it was deeper than that, something else entirely. And yet he lets himself forget, lets himself be comforted by hopeful words that could never be. 'I don't believe we will ever be lost to each other. I mean, not truly.' Rickon did. He had believed it, feared it, he had thought it, imagined it. It felt almost inevitable, at some point. But now, as she looked up at his eyes and her own belief shone through with such hope, such want for it to be true -- he had not the heart to crush it. "Right." he confirms, and he tries to show he had believed it too, but perhaps his lips betray him, perhaps she could yet see the remainders of fear linger. For he was not sure, and he could not well lie. Then her thumbs pass over his cheeks, and she's up on her toes with lips placed quick at the corner of his own. And he takes a breath in just then, and he locks slightly in his spot as his thoughts all but vanish away, replaced by burning of his skin and a strange sort of dizziness. He blinks, at the motions in which she had decided to demonstrate her point. And eventually, a smile sneaks on as he nods in acceptance. "I see." he says, then his head will tilt into the palms of her hands as she cups his face again, and his own will fall over her waist as she speaks. As she confirms he need not ask, assures she would have offered it all the same. His cheeks will turn hot and red beneath her touch, and she will lean in, and press her lips against his, and her hand will slip down behind his neck. A shiver will pass him, a breath sneak in while her own flies warm against his skin. The moment she pulls him deeper so gentle and careful, he does so too -- closer and rougher, with hunger at the parted lips and hands tighter around her waist as he further closes the space between her and his chest. He will pull away only slightly, after a while, in between kisses and a breath, for his eyes to find her just a moment, just to ensure she was real -- before he is pulling her in again, smile curved beneath exchanging passes of their lips. And he had understood, perhaps for the first time truly, why nobody else ever waited...

" I WOULD LIKE TO BELIEVE IT IS MUTUAL ." daenya replies with a lofty raise of her chin , her eyes glinting with mischief as they meet his . her smile widens . " although perhaps i am winning ." the jest is light as daenya's eyes crinkle , as she hums a pleased sound at rickon's next words , tilting her head with a light . " you flatter me ." she points to him with a finger . " but you should note that i am the least predictable person you should ever meet too ." or at least she endeavors to be . perhaps not only the least predictable but the most memorable . perhaps not just the most memorable , but the favourite . after all , it is likely rickon will meet a great many people in his lifetime . and where will she land amongst the crowd ? daenya has faith that she is at the very front of it . that she will always be . but it never hurts to be sure . the huff of laughter that daeny releases is warm as she is pulled closer , as her grin widens brightly, as she turns to meet his gaze to say , " perhaps that is what i wish for ." her brows arch cheekily as she meets his gaze , as she leans in to wrap her hands around the bicep of one of his crossed arms to conspiratorially add , " we shall be inseparable . you will be affix to me forever , we will never part ." a glitter of amusement in her eyes as she rests her chin on his shoulder . " i would hope that you might see the appeal in that ." daenya allows herself to be pulled in again without protest . well , not protest at the proximity . she does make a bit of an affronted sound from where her face is buried in his throat , huffing to say , " watch your tongue , i quite like rickon as he is ." she allows herself to be soothed by the closeness for a beat before she pulls back enough to meet his eyes and say , " and the only one permitted to poke at him is me ." she moves to fit their hands together anew , allowing them to be palm to palm as she fidgets with their joint hands . her eyes flick down to where their fingers are lined up before she's adding , " besides , sometimes one needs to be serious ." her tone is lofty , almost sage before she's tipping her head up to playfully meet his eyes again . " so i've heard , at least ."

-

once again as he reaches for her daeny goes easily . the hand on the back of her neck is met with a step forward even as shiver goes up her spine at the touch . her face meets his chest with an inhale that's deep enough to settle her . she turns her head so that her ear is resting against him , so that the warmth of his skin through the fabric is combined with the consistent thrum of his heartbeat . and yet even as daeny finds herself soothed she finds her brows furrowing all the same . " you will not lose me , rickon ." daenya says insistently as she pulls back enough to meet his eyes . her brows furrow for a moment before she's bringing both hands up to cradle his face . her eyes scan his features like she might find answers in them . " ... is that what you think ?" it feels bewildering to daeny . granted , many things in these past few moments have felt so . but perhaps this most of all . " just because you have kissed me does not mean that you will lose me ." daenya says softly , warmly as she meets his eyes . her head shakes the slightest bit to say , " i don't believe we will ever be lost to each other . i mean , not truly ." she would like to believe it at the very least . the hope of that shines in her eyes . " right ?" her features has softened with the words , the furrow between her brows finally easing , smoothing out into something nonexistent . it is with gentle thumbs stroking over his cheekbones that she pushes up onto her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth . she eases back down onto her heels and meets his eyes , her heart still drumming in her chest even as she pulls a hand from his cheek to wave it before his face . " see ?" the slightest huff of laughter . her eyes crinkle with it . " still here ." there's a tenderness in the softening of her voice . she nods as she waves that hand , as she brings it back to his cheek . " not lost at all , even as you have me ." she swallows as their eyes meet once again , as his gaze falls down to what certainly is her lips and she can't help but think that the way he looks at her now feels different . or perhaps it is the same and she has only just noticed it . her heart hammers at the thought , at the question he asks of her . " ... of course ." daeny's head tilts with the words , her eyes flicking over his features , over the line of his gaze . she feels very briefly warm with it . " you needn't ask , truly ." a swallow as she shrugs slightly , as she leans up into him with a truthful , " ... i would have offered ." the words are spoken against his mouth a beat before daeny pushes forward , before she connects their lips with a perhaps uncharacteristic gentleness . there is a moment where she lingers , where she sighs before she is sliding one of the hands on his cheek to the back of his neck , before she's pushing carefully closer .

[rolandkaros]

forever hilarious to me that tennis is promoted as this prestigious highbrow big-brain sport when most tennis fans these days are like. yeah this is my favorite player. yeah i don't know why they're like that. yes they are stupid. no i will not choose somebody else.

[daddy-long-legssss]

me after three days of in-person meetings and team-building activities.

[galacticlamps]

actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be

First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:

my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)

But letting that go...

I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)

On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.

(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)

At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.

To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.

So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.

And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?

anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)

[druidposting]

The more i think about it, the more baffled i become at the people saying this campaign feels significantly more railroaded than the others.

I mean, i can see why people might think that. At a glance, its like, “wow, Matt’s really pushing hard for this moon plot, like everything’s connected to it and they have this date to meet and they cant get anyone else’s story in!” But i feel like thats such a surface level analysis, and is likely born from people who have never dmed before. As an avid dungeon master myself, the Ruidis plot reads quite clearly to me as a set piece - This is an event fixed in time, fixed in the world, and the villains orchestrating it will do what theyre gonna do no matter what. Its actually quite similar to the chroma conclave arc in C1, or even more poignantly, the whitestone arc with Percy as the “main character” focus for an extended period of time, an arc that was anchored to a set place and a set time because thats what the villains were doing.

When you DM, one of the key things you learn is that when the players arent engaging with a plot thread, that thread continues to run its course in the background. Its what breaths life into the world, its what makes it feel real. Its also what nudges your players to engage with the world. When you telegraph this to them, they pretty quickly learn that if they hear of something bad thats gonna happen, and they choose not to engage for whatever reason, then that bad thing is Going To happen, and they will then be playing in the consequences.

The other part of this misperception of c3 being railroaded i think comes from the players having a much stronger and more cohesive sense of morals. The c2 gang was characterized by a rag-tag group of miss-fits with nebulous morals and motivations and histories, and who were much more self serving in their group goals. None of this is bad!! It made for a very interesting game to watch, and even more interesting characters. But this is very different from the way ive seen Bells Hells act as a team. BH has been seen to be at least somewhat altruistic in their motives - maybe individually theyre more self-serving - but as a team, theyve consistently made decisions that benefit “the greater good” without much question of whats in it for them (giving up Treshi to the government and helping the Greenseekers in the mines come to mind). So of course theyre going to chase the Big Bads when they hear about a world ending plot!! And this doesnt even factor in that like, as players, why the fuck wouldnt you want to chase the evil moon plot? The campaign i run is explicitly a sandbox, and yet my players have latched on to the main intrigue and have been following it as if “on a railroad”. When your main intrigue is constructed well, the players will want to follow it, because this is a game to be played for fun, afterall.

With these two facts in mind, this isnt Matt forcing them down a particular path, nor have the Bells Hells been bound to it by him at any point in the campaign. At any moment they could jump off this thread and go do something else. And maybe you’d say “but if they dont stop Ludinus, then the world will go to catastrophe!!!” Yeah. It would. Thats dnd, baby. That outcome would be just as beautiful as the Bells Hells success.

As an aside, i could see several paths this Apogee Solstice day could go. Everything could go off without a hitch, BH destroys the key, crashes the missile ship, and gets out unscathed. Or they could completely fail, Ryn destroyed, Predathos released, TPK. Or they fail in stopping Ludinus but manage to get out alive and have to deal with the consequences. Or they succeed but Ludinus and his lackies live and chase the Hells through to the end of campaign with an eternal burning hatred. There are endless possibilities here because Matt is a good DM who clearly values player agency and choice.

[kavehayati]

Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.

[gravegoer]

What if we get like an internal monologue of just how much Sevika is into you? Like if it’s her first day as counselor and she sees you walking around the halls helping out as an assistant. She can’t help but think reader is so damn cute! Maybe even reader flirts a little from afar <3

Pretty Piltie ⋆˚✿

thank you anon, and yes i love this, this is very cute ! i went a little different for some plot but i hope you like it :) i also have a few more pirate sevika fics coming out so look out for those ! coming sometime this week :) masterlist

After her first day on the council, she saw you in the hallway, walking around with your clipboard in your face. (Definitely in a hurry)

She raised an eyebrow at the pep in your step and the carelessness of you flipping through pages while walking. Before she could even move to the side, you bumped into her.

"I'm so sorry," You looked up at her with an embarrassed look on your face, "I thought the halls would be empty."

She couldn't even get a word out before your eyes widened, "Shit. The meeting is over, isn't it?"

You scurried to the doors she just came from, and she almost laughed at your actions. Even after the exasperating meeting she had a smile graced her lips.

Well, I could get used to that.

When she got home, her mind flashed back to the girl she encountered in the hallway, furrowing her brows. She tried to rid of the image. Maybe she was just thinking about it because it's the only exciting thing that occurred today. Yeah, that's it.

The next week, she had to come back for a second meeting, this time staying back longer to discuss things in finer details. A couple of councilors have already up and left as it was getting late.

After a few minutes, she saw you walk in with one of the council members. You had a nervous smile on your face while the older woman spoke to you.

Sevika let out a snort at your expression, finding it to be oddly cute but containing herself moments later. Although she couldn't stop eyeing you when you stood behind the councilors chair just across from her.

You were scrawling out things on your clipboard while the grey-haired woman in front of you spoke. Sevika was only half listening as her eyes bored into your face, taking in all your features.

I mean, who knew Piltover had princesses like this.

Suddenly, you looked up to make eye contact with Sevika, her brows 5 she averted eye contact to look at the woman in front of you.

She saw your smile from the corner of her vision when she looked away. Fuck.

It seemed like every time you looked away she stared back at you, she didn't come here to eye-fuck her co-workers assistant but damn.

She watched the way you tilted your head when hearing something strange, or raised your eyebrows at something controversial, bending over to whisper something in the ear of your boss.

All in all she was definitely lost in thought when someone called her name, "Sevika!"

She looked over at the woman beside her who spoke, "Shall I repeat myself? I say, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

Sevika blanked. She racked her brain for an answer but the only one it was coming up with was the curve of your smile and the hue of your eyes.

She saw your surprised face and you mouthed something to her, "Say you agree."

She coughed into her fist before speaking, "I suppose that's fine."

The others looked at her suspiciously but carried on nonetheless. Throughout the rest of the meeting she made sure to pay close attention, so that she wouldn't slip up Infront of her co-workers again.

When the meeting was dismissed she was the last to leave, running her hand down her face in a way to ease her mind. She took a deep breath before stepping into the hall.

She was greeted with the sight of you talking to a few advisors, taking notes, and handing out papers. She found it endearing the way you bounced from person to person, engaging in conversation.

It seemed like you were taking peoples opinions for your survey. This was her chance to redeem herself. (She's embarrassed you had to help her earlier.

After speaking with an unfamiliar lanky man, you turned around and locked eyes with Sevika once again.

You waved at her, flashing her a cute grin. But before you could take a step towards her, your boss was calling her away.

Immediately, you deadpanned and pulled your lips into an exaggerated frown. Sevika smirked at your expressions and flicked her hand teasingly in a shoo, motion.

She would most definetly be seeing you again.

i know this is a bit shorter than my usual, spare me

im also having major writers block and i have 20+ asks so 🙏 let me cook here, i also have many projects i want to get to