#i want to draw spice of them eventually

[rollingeevee]

What does Eevee see attracting the Beast Bites AU Beasts the most?

I had this idea sitting in my head for a bit and decided to finally make it! As stated before, a cookie has to catch a Beast’s attention first and then hold that attention as the Beast continues to observe them as well as pass all their “challenges” that they set in place to test a potential darling. But what traits grab a Beast’s attention enough for them to scope out a cookie as a potential darling? Let’s get into it, shall we~?

Shadow Milk I see finding intelligence as his most desired trait for his darling. The way you question the world around you, the way you verify facts for yourself, the way you never take his words at face value. Ah~! What a smart lil mouse you are~! A challenge~ That’s just what he likes~

The Beast of Deceit’s tests primarily consist of seeing how you deal with the lies he spreads. How eager are you to figure things out for yourself? Yes, he eventually wants his darling to drown in Deceit with him, but if you fell for his tricks so easily, you wouldn’t be as fun~! He also likes to test your cleverness and wits. How sharp tongued are you? How well do you respond to witty banter? Hopefully in kind~ He loves a good game~

Once Shadow Milk Cookie has come to the conclusion that, yes~! You are exactly what he’s looking for in a darling~! he wastes no time. He draws you in, isolates you, and corners you. Likely kicking and screaming, he drags you into the shadows, placing a swift bite whilst you’re still in a panic. All mine now, lil mousey dear~

Mystic Flour finds herself drawn to cookies who are determined, independent and hard working. She granted wishes constantly when she was still viewed as a great hero, it was all cookies ever came to see her for. They would stand in line for days to ask something of her, and again, and again, and she grew oh so tired of it. So seeing a cookie who is determined to work hard for everything they want, rather than taking short cuts? It interests her, to say the least.

The Beast of Apathy’s tests primarily test one’s determination. How far are you willing to go to get what you desire. How hard are you willing to work? If she offers you an easy way out, will you take it? This also plays out in her favor as she is the least affectionate of the Beasts. She is also comfortable with her darling being able to rely on themselves. She’s also fine with a cookie she’s scoping out working smarter, not harder. It’s the lack of lazy shortcuts that she cares for.

Mystic Flour Cookie’s final test is offering you a wish. She will grant you anything you desire, one thing you do not have to work for. You’re unfortunately stuck either way. If you say yes, she will likely become upset at overestimating you and reduce you to flour, even though she offered. But if you say no, that’s when she takes you, deep into the depths of the Ivory Pagoda. Hers at last, little rabbit…

Burning Spice loves ferocity! The fiercer, the better! He himself has stated that he likes his prey to have a little fight in them. And that’s just what you are. His prey.

The easiest way to catch Burning Spice Cookie’s attention is to stand up to him. Face him head on! Tell him off! Whether you’re afraid or not, having the courage to stand before him without backing down is something he finds impressive. He’ll be a bit taken aback by your boldness, but in a delighted way. Ah, yes~! Feisty~! Just what he’s looking for~! That is the moment you turn from opponent to prey.

It’s after that that the Great Destroyer starts watching you. Testing you. He observes his prey, desiring to see how they rise to the challenges he presents them. Even if you’re not physically strong, if you make up for it with stubbornness and courage, that works just as well. And when you stand your ground once more when he finally appears before you again, he gives you the biggest smirk before taking you down and pulling you away, back to his temple, where he quickly places his claim on you through his bite, all the while you’re screaming obscenities at him. Ah, there’s that fire he adores~ He knew he picked right~ And now he’s sealed the deal… You’re not going anywhere, little kitten~

Eternal Sugar would love a darling who’s gentle and compliant. Someone who loves lounging around and sleeping, just like her, but who also is happy to serve their lover. A homebody. Housewife/househusband material. Someone who enjoys to cook and clean. She’s not necessarily messy or anything, but she is… well, slothful.

The Beast of Sloth, unlike her comrades, doesn’t really do tests. She primarily just observes. The occasional “test” she does is seeing how a potential darling might take care of gifts she leaves them. Do you treasure them? Make sure they’re well taken care of?

Once Eternal Sugar Cookie’s interest is solidified, she’ll swoop down from her clouds and snatch you up. Oh, no need to be scared! She’s not gonna hurt you! Come~ Partake in some sweets~ Rest with her~ Relax and enjoy yourself~ Once your guard is let down and you’re asleep, the claim is placed. So why don’t you just stay forever, darling lamb~

Silent Salt I can see liking someone who is tender and reserved. They are a knight, and the position of knight is one meant to serve and protect. I can see them desiring a kind darling with little strength. Someone they can protect. Someone to adore and dote on them in thanks for their diligent protection. Having someone helpless for a darling also forces them to rely on their Beast for safety, and makes it less likely that they’ll run.

Perhaps the way you first catch the Beast of Silence’s attention is when they see you sitting by yourself, quietly reading with a look of wonder on your face. A fantasy story of monsters, royalty, and courageous knights. You look so peaceful in your serene quiet, and that draws them in.

Silent Salt Cookie’s tests likely mostly consist of testing your reactions to danger. Do you run or freeze? Cling to your allies for protection? Or do you fight them off on your own? They tend to lose interest if they find you possess a hidden strength. But if you continue to act helpless and rely on others, they do something most of the others don’t think to. They swoop in to become your savior. Through this, they form a sorta bond with you, which allows them to more easily lure you into their embrace. You realize too late that you’re trapped. But no need to fret. Your darling knight will keep you safe, sweet dove…

[heartsiebyul]

yay ty for answering my question!! id like to request some jamkali x reader :3 i kinda lied when i said i had a thing in mind but i absolutely adore jamkalis complimented relationship and them both as-well! so theres no specific ask other that those two hehe ^^ ☀️

Jamkali (Jamil and Kalim) x reader headcanon

Sunshine and Spice

How the relationship starts

It honestly starts with Kalim falling for you immediately. You were kind, fun, and patient with him—so naturally, he drags you into all his activities.

Jamil was much more hesitant. He noticed how close you were to Kalim and assumed you were another person who would overlook him. But then you started checking in on him, offering him food, helping him carry things, asking about his day. It disarmed him.

Eventually, Kalim (with no subtlety whatsoever) goes, “Wouldn’t it be fun if the three of us dated?” You and Jamil both choke, for very different reasons—but somehow, it works.

How they show affection

Kalim is all sunshine, constant hugs, kisses on your cheek, dragging you into spontaneous dancing. He calls you “my star” or “sweetheart” in front of everyone. PDA? Oh absolutely. He’s clingy in the cutest way.

Jamil is much more reserved in public, but in private, he’s intense. He’ll kiss the back of your hand like you’re royalty, cook your favorite meals without being asked, and press soft kisses to your temple when you’re asleep.

You often find yourself stuck between them on the couch or bed—Kalim draped over your chest and Jamil curled at your side, pretending he’s not just as needy for your warmth.

Jealousy

Kalim doesn’t get jealous—he thrives on everyone loving each other. But he does get pouty if you spend too long with just Jamil without him. Expect lots of “Hey! I want cuddles too!

Jamil, on the other hand, is a bit more guarded. He won’t admit it, but he does get quietly jealous if he feels left out. He handles it by giving you space... until you pull him back in with a kiss and remind him he’s just as loved.

Once, they both got jealous of each other and ended up smothering you with attention until you had to beg for air.

Extra

Kalim once tried to build a pillow fort for all three of you to nap in. Jamil pretended it was ridiculous, then reinforced the whole structure with magic so it wouldn’t fall.

Jamil taught you both a special duet dance he choreographed. Kalim twirled you like a prince while Jamil watched with stars in his eyes.

When you’re sick, Kalim brings you bright flowers and reads you stories, while Jamil ensures you take your meds, rest, and eat actual soup instead of candy.

Bonus Moment

Late-night rooftop cuddles

After a long day full of classes, Kalim drags you and Jamil up to the Scarabia dorm’s rooftop, claiming the stars “are brighter when we’re all together.”

He brings a giant blanket, a basket of sweets, and a pillow for each of you—even though you all end up sharing one big one anyway.

You’re lying between them, Kalim’s fingers lazily drawing shapes on your arm while Jamil softly hums a lullaby he used to hear in the palace.

The desert breeze is warm, the stars are endless, and for once, no one has to lead, protect, or plan. Just three person in love, hearts beating in time under a velvet sky.

Kalim whispers, “This feels like a dream,” and Jamil murmurs, “Then let’s never wake up.”

You didn't say anything—you just smile, because you’re already home.

waaa I hope you love it, thank you for the request! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[drabbles-about-crk]

I know there are a lot of time travel au ideas, but here my hat to throw in the ring. (This came from talking to an roleplaying scenario that I and another user came up with)

For reasons undecided, the ancients all get sent to the past before the beasts became corrupted. This occurs before they get the soul jams however this does not stop the virtues from feeling drawn to them.

For ShadowVanilla, Pure Vanilla had been foraging in the forest away from his traveling group before he fell through a portal into an unfamiliar forest. When he dropped into the past, Milk felt a disturbance and decided to figure it out. Keeping his identity a secret for the most part, Milk takes PV to a cabin in the mountain. (That’s all I’ll say on this front)

For EternalBerry, I’m not decided on what Hollyberry had been doing nor where exactly she fell in the past other than close enough to easily get to the garden of Happiness (This came from the rp partner ->) However, unlike the rest, Bringer of Happiness does not disguise who she is to her and upon learning her role, Hollyberry picked her up into a swinging hug complimenting her. This was the moment Bringer got her girl crush for the buff adventurer. Of all the ancients, I thought having Hollyberry be the only one to know the beast as their virtue during their travel to the past was cool. (Pure Vanilla learns from Milk that Fount of Knowledge exists but not that they are one in the same)

For SilentLily, I let White Lily be her freak (affectionate) self for this one. She was in the middle of traveling so she had the most supplies on her. When she fell into the past, she didn’t notice at first (thought she got teleported) and traveled around trying to figure out where she was. Eventually, she runs into the Knight of Solidarity and decides to research(*cough* stalk) them at a distance. Said knight knew they were being followed but given the draw their souljam had to her, Salt didn’t care. They used a proxy form to stalk her in turn which ends up in a silly but messed up situation between them. (All virtues are a little messed up but in this case White Lily reacts to her draw to the virtue with a desire to research. PV and Hollyberry reacts by trying to befriend)

For BurningCheese, Golden had just found some treasure before she dropped into the past. Lucky for her, she dropped in an abandoned house which she decides to use as a base of operations. In a show of restraint, Herald of Change took a while to go after her. He felt the draw and desperately wanted to find the source, but he had a job to actively do and needed to wait. When he did go find her, Golden Cheese had become a merchant and established herself in the kingdom he was working on. They have a weird reverse Aladdin-esque relationship because she originally thinks he is homeless/a traveler down on their luck and lets him stay with her as muscle (even if she can kick butt, it gets annoying having to do it every other day). Eventually she realizes that Spice isn’t who he says he is and assumes he is the prince of the place trying to learn about the common people. Unlike her fellow ancients, she is upfront about her wanting him romantically. She confesses she knows he is a prince and promises that one day she will become a merchant of such wealth that no one can claim she is unworthy of him. Spice says she is already worthy but she says that a treasure like him deserves someone who is an equal which she strives to be.

For MysticCacao, Dark Cacao had been in the middle of a fight before he got portales to the past. A kind village near the base of Flour’s mountain patched him up and gave him a place to stay. At first, he decides to protect the village to repay their kindness until he can finds a way to return home. Like Spice, Flour tries ignore her draw as she has visitors who want the Granter of Volition to grant their wishes. At some point, she uses a projection (think a more accurate version of that weird ghostly version of Dark Cacao) to go down the mountain to see what was calling her. The villagers think her a priestess of the temple and Dark Cacao ends up befriending her. It is a very introvert like friendship where they mostly stay around each other quietly observing each other and the world while occasionally infodumping. Flour tries to get him to come up the temple but he has devoted himself to his two goals: protect the village and find a way home. At some point, those searching out the Granter of Volition let out their anger about the wait on the villagers causing Dark Cacao to fight and chastise them for their actions. Flour uses this as an excuse to order Dark Cacao to come up to her temple which he complies with. He rejects her offer to join the temple once more and states he wishes to achieve his goals by his own efforts since he doesn’t want to be in debted to her. However, he does agree to the position working at the base of the mountain- it gives him the right to manage the visitors who come by which is helpful for protecting the village. Flour uses her magic proxy to continue speaking with him.

[societyfolklore]

Dangerous Notes – Part 6

Title: Dangerous Notes – Part 6

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Singer!Female Reader

Fic Summary: Reluctantly agreeing to fill in for her sick friend at a prestigious jazz club, The Armoury, Reader finds herself thrust into a world of old- world glamour and unknown danger. The club’s enigmatic owner, Bucky Barnes, has set his sights on making her a permanent fixture on his stage- and in his life.

Chapter Summary:  Caught in a storm of jealousy and possessiveness when Bucky Barnes finally snaps. Tension erupts into an unrestrained confrontation backstage.

Word Count: 3.7K

Fic Warnings: // Explicit Content // Mature Themes.18+, Minors DNI,Dark Romance, Slow Burn, Possessive/Obsessive behaviour, Violence, Smut (eventually)  Chapter Warnings:  Possessive/obsessive behaviour, jealousy, physical tension, emotional manipulation, strong language, fear of implied violence, intense confrontation.

A/N: Updates Thursday bi Weekly  (Probably will be throwing up an extra update in March sine it’s Bucky Barnes birthday month!)   You knew something felt off the moment you arrived at The Armoury.

Maybe it was the lingering tension from the flowers Bucky had sent the day before, the way their presence in your apartment had unsettled you rather than reassured you. Maybe it was the way your mind kept circling back to his words from Sunday night-the way he had pressed you, watched you, tested you. It didn’t help that your coworkers had noticed, teasing you about your supposed 'secret admirer' You had dodged their questions, offering half-hearted shrugs, but the feeling had clung to you like a second skin.

Or maybe it was the way you were starting to feel the lines between your real life and this place begin to blur in ways you didn’t like. The Armoury had a way of drawing people in, wrapping them up in its shadowy embrace, and you were starting to wonder if you were letting it pull you in further than you ever intended. It was dangerous, feeling like this-like you belonged in a world that you knew you shouldn’t be a part of. But the thrill, the intoxicating pull of the stage, the whispers of curiosity that danced through your veins-it was getting harder to ignore.

Shaking off the unease, you made your way through the side entrance, the low hum of the band warming up drifting from the main room. The familiar scent of aged whiskey and faint cigar smoke greeted you, mingling with the subtle spice of expensive colognes and perfumes. You adjusted your bag over your shoulder, exhaling slowly as if the simple act of breathing could help steady your nerves. As you passed the bar, Yelena caught your eye, handing off a tray to one of the servers before leaning toward you.

“You look tense.”

You scoffed lightly, trying to keep your voice casual. “I think Barnes is trying to ruin my life.”

Yelena smirked. “You’re not the first to think that.” She tilted her head, studying you a little too closely. You didn't want to talk about it, but Yelena might have a better understanding, some insight.

"He sent flowers to my school. I was hoping to get out of telling anyone there I was here. You know? Keep things separate."

Yelena’s eyebrow went up. “Most women like flowers.”

Your stomach twisted. “I don’t know what they mean.”

Yelena hummed, pouring herself a short glass of vodka. “Barnes doesn’t do things without a reason.” She took a sip, setting the glass down. “But that doesn’t mean he knows what the hell he’s doing either.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yelena leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “These guys? They don’t do emotions the way normal people do. Emotionally constipated.” She let the words settle before continuing, her tone lighter but still edged with knowing. "Maybe you've ruffled his ‘eathers, now he's trying to do it back?"

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Well, that’s unhelpful.”

Yelena just chuckled, shaking her head. “I didn't say I was goin’ to be. But maybe you should start thinking less about what he meant and more a‘bout why you care?"

Bucky was watching. Again.

He could feel Sam was watching him with the kind of knowing smirk that made Bucky want to tell him to mind his own damn business as he got closer to the table Bucky had put himself at. 

Sam slid into the seat next to him with a low exhale, setting his drink down on the table. "It's quiet out there tonight. No movement from Stark’s people. Everything’s as it should be. Steve decided to stay up at the pool hall for the night with some of the commandos. Just to be safe. It’s the closest outpost we’ve got to Queens."

Bucky gave a small nod, still staring at you on stage. "Good."

Sam took a slow sip of his drink, following Bucky’s gaze before smirking. "You’re staring again."

Bucky didn’t respond, swirling the whiskey in his glass, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the stage. He was sure you weren’t looking anywhere near him on purpose. That annoyed him more than it should.

"She’s good for business," he muttered.

Sam scoffed. "That’s your excuse for glaring like she owes you money." 

Bucky’s jaw ticked. "She’s why we’ve got this many people here on a Tuesday."

Sam leaned in, voice dropping. "Sure. But I bet your can think of all sorts of uses for her right now outside of business."

Bucky said nothing, just took another slow sip of whiskey.

Sam let out a knowing chuckle. "I mean, I get it. She’s a fine-looking bird… soft, got that voice that makes a man wanna sit back and let her sing all night. Can’t blame the crowd for coming back. Can’t blame you either."

Bucky’s grip on his glass tightened. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"A little." Sam grinned. "I just like watching you squirm. It’s funny."

Bucky finally tore his gaze away from the stage long enough to shoot him a glare. "I don’t squirm."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you absolutely squirm. I’d put money on it. Just go talk to her after." 

Bucky huffed, shaking his head and looking back at you. "I talk to her."

Sam leaned back, stretching lazily. "Like a person, Buck. You remember how to be one of those dontcha?"

“Shut up and let me listen.” Bucky leaned back in his chair, eyes still locked on the stage, jaw tightening ever so slightly. He took another slow sip of whiskey, but it did nothing to cool the heat simmering just beneath his skin. He could hear Sam smirking beside him, the smug bastard enjoying this way too much.

“You’re really not gonna admit it, huh?” Sam pressed, stretching lazily in his seat. “That she’s got you twisted up.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, rolling the whiskey in his glass. “You done?”

Sam chuckled. “Alright, alright. Keep your shirt on."  Bucky ignored him, eyes following the slow movement of your fingers as they skimmed the mic stand. Every note that left your lips settled in his chest like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He clenched his jaw.

Sam leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You ever think about what you’re gonna do if she finds out?”

Bucky’s grip tightened on his glass. “Finds out what?”

Sam’s grin widened. “That you’re not just watching for business.”

Bucky shot him a glare, his voice coming out lower, rougher. “I said shut up and let me listen.”

Bucky walked through the backstage section heading for your dressing room. He told himself it was just a routine pass, making sure things were running smoothly. But he wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t lying to himself very well.

Sam had gotten into his head. For once, he’d actually listened. Just talk to her, Sam had said. Maybe he was right-maybe this was all in Bucky’s head. The paranoia, the constant years of looking over his shoulder, had made him see threats where there weren’t any. Maybe he was turning her into something she wasn’t-a variable to control, a potential risk to assess.

Then there were the flowers.

He hadn’t even been sure why he’d sent them. Maybe to make sure she came back. Maybe because he’d caught that flicker of hurt on her face when he’d questioned her integrity, the way her lips had pressed together, like she’d been about to say something but changed her mind. And that had done something to him.

It had made him feel like an ass.

There was a difference between being cautious, protecting what was his, and just being a prick. Maybe he’d overstepped. Maybe if he just talked to her, he’d be able to put this whole thing to bed. Hear her voice, confirm she wasn’t a threat-not to him, not to the club, not to his peace of mind.

Because despite the way she had his stomach knotted, he did like hearing her voice. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the sound of another's voice in your dressing room till he got to the open door and stopped. 

Pietro.

The bastard was standing too close. Too relaxed, too comfortable in your space. Bucky saw the way his arm rested behind your back, the way he leaned in just a little too much, fingers drumming along the back of the chair to whatever tune was coming out of your phone. He like he belonged there, next to you. Like you belonged there, tucked into the space he made for you.

"No! I like it."  Pietro was nodding along, his head. Your face lit up at his compliment, the slight blush in your cheek.    Bucky’s fist clenched before he even realized it, nails biting into his palm. He told himself to stay put, to observe a little longer, to let logic dictate his reaction. Maybe there was nothing to react to. Maybe Pietro was just being his usual flirtatious charming self. But then-

"So, coffee tomorrow?” Pietro asked, flashing his usual cocky grin.

You smiled. Smiled. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Bucky saw red.

His chest tightened, his jaw locked so hard it ached. Before he could even think, he was moving, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, low and dangerous. “Maximoff.”

Pietro turned lazily, entirely unbothered. “Boss.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to you, then back to Pietro. His gut churned, the possessive, ugly feeling twisting like a knife in his ribs. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way Pietro had settled so easily into your space. Didn’t like the way you let him, the way you smiled at him. 

“Get lost,” Bucky bit out, his voice even but laced with something lethal.

Pietro smirked, ever unfazed. “Relax, Barnes. It’s just music talk.” He turned to you, tossing a wink. “Call me.”

Bucky barely held himself back from putting Pietro through the damn wall as the white haired man stepped widely around him. 

Instead, he let out a slow, controlled breath, his jaw tightening as he turned to you. His voice was sharp, quieter but no less commanding. “Since when do you get coffee with him?”

You blinked at him, thrown by the intensity in his tone. “What? We're just going to talk about some new pieces, for here. Would of thought you'd-  Why is it a problem?" 

Bucky didn’t have an answer for that. At least not one he wanted to admit.

His fists remained clenched at his sides, his whole body rigid with something he couldn’t name. This wasn’t just about business. Wasn’t just about keeping things in check. It was something else, something deeper, something that made his pulse hammer against his ribs.

You barely had time to react before Bucky was in your space, radiating anger like heat off pavement. It wasn’t just anger-it was something unrestrained, something that felt too big for the room, too overwhelming for you to process. His chest heaved with each rough breath, his body taut, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike. His hands flexed at his sides, fingers twitching as if they ached to grab, to possess.

You had never seen him like this. Never seen any one like this. 

“What is your problem?” you managed, voice steadier than you felt, even as your back hit the dressing table.

Bucky’s eyes burned into yours, pupils blown wide, his expression twisted between rage and something else-something deeper, something raw. His chest heaved, breath sharp and uneven, his fists clenching at his sides before flexing open again like he couldn’t decide whether to grab you or hold himself back. The controlled, calculating man you had seen before was gone-this was something different. His movements were sharp, restless, his energy barely contained, each twitch of his fingers betraying the struggle to stay in control. His fingers twitched, his shoulders tense, and when his gaze snapped back to yours, there was nothing composed about it-just raw, unchecked possession. He looked like a man on the edge of something dangerous, like he had already lost whatever grip on control he had left. His jaw worked, muscles tense, his nostrils flaring slightly as if even breathing around you was difficult. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough around the edges, barely controlled. Like he was a second away from snapping. You swore he almost looked unhinged.

“You.” His voice was low, jagged, but it wavered, just slightly, like even saying it out loud made something inside him crack. “You’re in my head, even when you’re not here. I hear you in my sleep. I hear you when I’m alone. I hear you when I should be thinking about anything else. But it’s always you. Like a song I can’t turn off, like a ghost haunting every damn part of my life and you've only been here a few days!”

His fingers twitched, his stance shifting as if torn between pacing, seizing you, or forcing himself to leave before saying something he couldn’t take back. His breaths came uneven, rough, like he was struggling to force them out between clenched teeth. “I can’t turn it off. I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. You don’t just go away. You’re a song I on replay, a distraction I can’t afford. And it’s-fuck-it’s driving me insane.”

Your breath hitched, stomach twisting. Was it the break in his voice that rattled you, or the weight of his confession itself?

“Excuse me?” you whispered, stunned, pulse spiking in your throat.

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck working beneath his skin, like he was really trying to hold himself together. “It’s like you and that damn voice of yours are haunting me. Since you got here!” His voice was sharp, biting. “You’re making my life impossible. I hear you everywhere-when I’m in my office, when I try to sleep. You don’t fucking leave.”

Your heart pounded so hard it was dizzying. Me? You're saying this is my fault? I’m just here to do my job.”

Bucky let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. It was a stark contrast to the man who always appeared so in control, so calculated. His breath came uneven, sharp, as if his own words had unsettled him. The mask he wore so well-calm, cold, untouchable-was slipping, cracking apart right in front of you, and it left something raw, something unfiltered in its place. His hand raked through his hair too roughly, like he was trying to shake you out of his skull. His jaw clenched even tighter, eyes flickering with something raw, something bordering on unhinged.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me. Then I come in, and your both... Standing there, letting him touch you, letting him sit too close... Like he had any right to. Like he could just take what's mine and I’d be fine with it." 

Your stomach twisted. "It’s just coffee, to go over." Then your brain process what he'd said "Min- What?" Your voice trailed off, because you weren’t sure what else to say. It felt ridiculous. This didn’t make sense. None of it did. Why was he talking to you like this? Why was he this angry? You had seen Bucky cold, calculated, always in control. But this? This was something else entirely.

His fixation wasn’t about business. This was about you.

But why?

His presence felt suffocating, his eyes too sharp, too dark, filled with something you didn’t understand. Something you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.

“It’s not just coffee,” he ground out, voice dark, each word slow and deliberate. “It’s him looking at you like you’re something he can have. It’s your letting him.”

Your pulse stuttered, caught between fear and something more-something you couldn’t name, didn’t dare to. His voice, raw and unfiltered, wasn’t just laced with fury. It unsettled you, sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. You wanted to move, to push back, to speak, but your body refused, frozen under the sheer weight of his presence.

“Letting him?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, but there was no masking the disbelief threading through it. Who talked like this? Who acted like this? "I wasn't-" 

Bucky’s throat worked, his whole body coiled tight, like he was a second away from snapping. His breathing was ragged, uneven.

“Say that all you want.” His voice came out like a growl, low and dangerous. You watched his jaw tick, his muscles flexing like he was fighting some inner battle, one he was rapidly losing. “This is my place. These are my people. And I decide what happens here.”

Every syllable was laced with something possessive, something raw and untamed. “Everything in here is because of me.”

His blue eyes burned into you, demanding something you weren’t sure you could give. Did he want submission? Did he want you to agree with him, to acknowledge his insanity? Or was it something deeper-something unspoken that neither of you were ready to admit? Understanding? Acceptance? Something else entirely? You weren’t sure, but you knew one thing-this was no longer about business.

This was something else.

Something dangerous.

Your actions had set off something deep, something that had been lurking beneath the surface, just waiting for a reason to escape.

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt electric, charged with something volatile, something on the edge of detonating. His gaze flickered to your lips, and for a breath, it felt like the entire world had gone still.

The silence stretched unbearably between you, thick and charged with something you didn't know how to name. His breathing was unsteady, his fingers flexing at his sides as if struggling against the urge to reach for you. The weight of his stare felt suffocating, his pupils blown wide, dark with something far more dangerous than a tempers edge he was riding. 

“If you’re going to start sleeping with someone around here, it’s going to be me.”

You barely had time to process before he added, voice rough, guttural, “Not some white-haired bastard.”

Then he was gone, storming out, leaving behind air so thick it felt like it was pressing down on you, suffocating, charged with something you didn’t dare name.

The silence in the room was deafening after he left.

You stood there for a few seconds, stunned, your breath still shallow, your heart hammering against your ribs. The space where Bucky had just been still felt charged, suffocating, as if his presence lingered in the very air around you.

Your hands trembled slightly as they pressed into the dressing table behind you, grounding yourself against the solid wood. What the hell had just happened? What had you just seen? That wasn’t the cold, calculated Bucky Barnes you’d come to expect, -the one who always seemed to be five steps ahead, who always played the long game with a smirk and a low, knowing chuckle. Where was the Bucky one who had tried to get under your skin in his office. The side you'd just seen wasn’t calculated at all. He had come apart, unravelling before you in a way you never thought possible.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Why did he act like that with you? What weren’t you seeing? He didn't even like you. 

The door creaked open behind you, snapping you out of your spiralling thoughts. Pietro leaned against the frame, his usual smirk in place, but when he saw your face, his expression faltered, he looked worried. 

“Songbird?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. “You okay?”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if trying to shake off the weight of the last few minutes.

“I don’t know.”

Pietro stepped inside, his eyes scanning you, his usual cocky confidence dimmed with concern. “Did he-” he started, but you cut him off with a quick shake of your head.

“No,” you said, your voice quieter than you wanted it to be. “It wasn’t like that.”

But you didn’t know how to explain what it was like. Bucky hadn’t even touched you. But how do you explain someone unravelling in front of you? Someone like him?

Instead of processing it as anger, you felt something else creeping in-uncertainty, confusion, something you didn’t want to name.

Pietro shifted, stepping closer, his concern evident. "Let me get you home."

You shook your head immediately. "No."

If Bucky knew you had gotten in the car with Pietro after... You didn’t want to think about what would happen.

Pietro exhaled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay... just breathe. You're alright."

You swallowed, but the air still felt thick in your lungs. "He..."

Pietro ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes the Boss gets... a little off his axis. Stress. Don't hold it against him. Just-let's get you into a cab and home, yeah? I'll get Yelena to call it for you." "Ok.." You felt weak now, drained and he got you into your chair. Pietro lingered for a second, watching you carefully like he wasn’t sure if you might fall apart the moment he left. You wished you could tell him something, anything to shake the feeling creeping over you, but you didn’t have the words.

Instead, you forced a small, tired smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

No. You weren’t. But you nodded anyway.

Pietro exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, I’ll get Yelena to call that cab.” He hesitated before stepping toward the door. “Look, Songbird… don’t let this get to you, alright?”

You swallowed. “Pietro…”

His smirk returned, but it was softer now. “Hey, it’s nothing you did. Just… sometimes, the Boss forgets we’re not all in his little world.” He tapped the doorframe, offering one last look before disappearing into the hallway.

Silence swallowed the room again.

You sank into your chair, legs suddenly too weak to hold you up any longer. The dressing room felt smaller now, suffocating, like the air had been pressed out of it by the sheer force of what had just happened.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

Your fingers curled into your lap, gripping the fabric of your dress as if it could steady you. The memory of Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind, rough and unsteady-his words weren’t just an order, they were a claim.

You didn’t know what terrified you more-that he had said it…

Or that some part of you had wanted to hear it.

[thankschef-blog]

dating carmy headcanons

(nsfw under cut)

carmy doesn't need to speak when he comes home from work anymore, you understand what he needs— usually a hug then a shower. he trusts himself to you completely most days, letting you half-carry him to the couch, then the shower, then to bed, all the way until he passes out in your arms, content and peaceful for once.

carmy sometimes feels like cooking is only routine for him now and not his passion, only to be reminded that no, he absolutely loves this as he watches you taste one of his new recipes. he bickers with you, all playful and lighthearted, about how you should be eating it, quizzes you on the spices he added and gives you gentle bites when you get them wrong. on another note, he's noticing that you’re getting more and more wrong, all with a smile on your face.

carmy sometimes invites you to the beef near closing, on days where he feels like his head won’t explode immediately after cleanup, just for you to crawl up on his lap while he does paperwork. he knows he stays too long sometimes, too focused on making sure the place doesn’t go to shit, but he also can’t stand the thought of being away from you every time.

carmy learns that even when he doesn’t invite you, you’ll show up if he’s there after midnight. he lets you drive him home (after a good amount of complaining) and take care of him.

carmy isn’t sure how to express his love for you, verbal affirmations feel like they’re not enough, not compared to how much you mean to him. so he cooks, parts of your personality is somehow always in dishes. he draws. you, but also things that remind him of you and leaves them in your living room.

carmy thinks he controls himself well until the next morning when he sees the line of love bites from your neck to the insides of your thighs and flushes extremely red, babbling on about how he’s sorry. he’s not sorry, because those marks never fade and even seem to multiply.

carmy stays between your legs for hours, you practically have to physically pry him off when it’s too much, he listens to your overwhelmed mumbling with a huge, dazed smile, his face covered in your arousal. bonus points for when you tug him back up by his hair because that is when he’ll let out a desperate whine and press his mouth to yours hungrily.

carmy gets offended when you think he won’t want visible love bites, he will get teased, but he also will tell people (mostly richie) to fuck off. he now regularly sports marks on his neck (and torso and thighs, but that’s not for anyone other than you to see).

carmy holds your jaw with his hand as he fucks you, just so you don’t hide your face and those pretty sounds that spill out. his thumb is half pulling your bottom lip and half in your mouth to keep it open.

carmy tries to keep his eyes on your face, he really does, but they keep trailing down to the bounce of your tits, to your squirming form, and before he knows it, he’s dipping his head down to leave marks all over your chest, letting out obscene noises.

carmy hugs you tight afterwards, then his hands rub over your legs to comfort the shake before he eventually picks you up to carry you over to the shower. he’s tired himself, but somehow that’s forgotten when you’re letting out small hums and whines as he cleans you up in the shower. safe to say you have to clean up all over again before getting out of the shower each time.

idk what this is. are these even headcanons? should some of these be turned into blurbs? am i just daydreaming about dating him? who knows!

thank you @uzmacchiato for the dividers !

[heroesrest64]

Reaching Revenant

(So sorry about the long wait! I got distracted playing Pioneers of Olive Town and writing a short story for that lol- anyway, we should be back to our regularly scheduled stories for a while)

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI. Oral, musings on ghost dicks

Content under the cut :)

Collapsing at your table, you can’t help but let out a long, drawn-out noise of complaint. You need to eat, and you know that you do, but you really don’t want to make anything, and going out is a hassle. You suppose you could always order out, but the threat of whoever brings the food waiting at your door for you to tip them (even though you technically did so online-) is something you can’t handle, and so now you’re in an odd limbo.

Your complaints seem to have drawn some attention, as your abandoned salt shaker moves, bumping into your arm to draw your attention.

“Oh, Wild. It’s nothing, I just don’t really feel like cooking.” You admit, rubbing at your forehead. There’s a moment of quiet before the sound of something different moving draws your attention, and you turn to watch a book filled with recipes wiggling out of its place on a shelf. Soon, it’s toting itself back towards you, and Wild places it reverently before you.

Is he… offering to cook for you? That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s offered to do for you in a while, and you smile gratefully, taking up the recipe book and flipping through it to find something you have all of the ingredients for.

You eventually land on a recipe for shepherds pie. It’s simple enough, and in a stroke of luck, you have all of the ingredients for it. “How about this? Can you make it?” You ask, and Wild takes the recipe book in response, carrying it off towards the main part of your kitchen and rifling through your cupboards and fridge for the right ingredients.

You watch in mild wonderment as ingredients float one after another. Vegetables are washed and chopped, spices shaken over simmering meat, dishes washed and set to dry. The entire kitchen is filled with a wondrous smell, and the whole event coalesces in a baking dish filled with the meal being set in your oven.

A timer gets set, and soon, you feel a light hand brush your shoulder, Wild letting you know that he’s done for now and wants to talk.

“Thank you, again, Wild. This means a lot to me.” You dip your head in thanks. It’s quiet for a second before you decide to ask, “Is there anything I can do for you in return? Y’know, just while we wait.”

Another quiet pause before the seat beside you gets pulled out, and you feel a soft hand guide you from your seat. You’re on your knees before you know what’s happening, two barely-there legs on either side of your head. Well, you did offer to thank him, and this is more or less what you had in mind anyway.

Something soft and warm ghosts your lips, and you stick out your tongue, licking a long stripe until you reach the tip of it. You don’t know what you expected a ghost to taste like, but Wild has a flavor like freshly fallen rain. There’s no real substance to it, just the feel of petrichor on your tongue, and all of a sudden, you feel the distinct urge to get to know the flavor intimately.

Your tongue continues to lave at the spectre's member for a while, tracing the invisible dick with your mouth until you have a pretty good feel of its size. A bit on the skinnier size, but with a length to make up for it. You lean back, pressing a kiss to the tip of it before finally taking the first couple inches into your mouth.

A hand finds itself carding through your hair at the sudden contact, pulling at your lockes until it feels like you might gag on his length. It’s an odd dichotomy, the knowledge that there isn’t anything truly substantial in your mouth, but the distinct feeling of your jaw and throat working over Wild’s dick. Would a passerby be able to watch your throat contract on his dick while you choke on it?

The thought is enough to make you flush with heat, a particular warmth pooling in your stomach, and you reach down to take care of yourself while lifting your other hand to grip at the meat of Wild’s thigh, pulling him ever deeper while you continue to drool on his cock.

Wild pulls your head back suddenly, and you realize you were probably taking too long considering his ghost dick and neglecting your goddess given duty to give him head. Immediately, you work on rectifying the oversight, bobbing your head on his cock at an impressive pace. Wild’s grip on your hair turns almost painful, and you feel a warmth curl over your head- Wild leaning over your body as he tries to hold himself together. You’re proud your efforts have such a strong effect on the man, and decide to keep up the pace until you learn what ghost cum tastes like in addition to your new knowledge about ghost dicks.

You suck on Wild in such a way that leads to his arm clawing down your back, desperate fingers clutching at your skin as you repeat the motion but deeper this time. If you could’ve heard Wild, you’re sure he’d be babbling nonsense against your skin or whining desperately as he pulls you close, dick down your throat by now, and let’s himself spill down your throat and on your tongue as he pulls out.

The timer for your food beeps as you sit there on the floor, panting in an attempt to regain your breath. You hear the alarm stop after only a couple seconds and carefully wobble onto your feet, shakily making your way back to your seat at the table. By the time you’ve gathered yourself back together and wiped the drool from your mouth and chin, there’s a plate set before you, steaming and fresh out of the oven. A fork clinks against the plate, and the chair that Wild pulled out is moved back to its usual place at your table.

While you’re sure the shepherd's pie would’ve tasted like something out of a Michelin star restaurant, you could barely focus on your meal, instead staring blankly at the chair Wild was previously sitting in, the taste of tangy ozone on your tongue.

[buunbaanbeen]

Curb w/ Jack Hughes

so writers block is beating me to death and this is all i have… take it

“You came,” you call out as soon as you see Jack step out of his car.

He takes a moment to look around, taking extra care to graze his eyes over you, sitting on a curb outside of the fancy restaurant where you'd met your newest tinder date. Your cheeks are red and you’re huddled into yourself to try and keep the chill at bay. He’s sure when you’d left Jack and his apartment not 2 hours ago, you’d been wearing a jacket, but now it’s nowhere in sight. He wonders briefly where it has gone, but soon finds himself shunning the thought. Right now it seems irrelevant.

He doesn’t need to inspect you any closer to see that you're crying. There's no way he could miss your quiet sniffles, or the rings of red that sit around your eyes. He wonders how long ago you’d finished crying, and more importantly, how long you’d cried for. Perhaps the most important question is why you’d been crying at all, but Jack can’t think about that for the time being; not if he wants to keep a level head.

“You called… why wouldn’t I come?” he replied as he shrugs his own jacket from his shoulders, “I didn’t expect you to be sitting on the side of the road, though. What the hell happened?”

His coat is warm as it finds its way around your shoulders. It’s a simple gesture that let you know he cares, something that he’s always so keen to prove to you, although he never really shows it through words. His gentle smiles and warm hugs that he only shares with you tell you more than any words ever could. The glint in his eye when he teases you, and the way he plays with your hair during your movie nights. Everything just paints a rich tapestry of affection.

He sits by your side, thigh pressed to yours as last night's rain that still lays upon the curb soaks through his jeans. No doubt you’ll both have a giggle about the matching wet patches when you eventually stand, but for now that’s the last thing on either of your minds. Jack seems much too concerned with bundling you up in a warm embrace to even think about anything else right now.

“Tell me, hm?” His voice is soft as he brings your head down to rest on his shoulder. “I’m here to listen.”

His body is warm against yours. It’s all you can focus on in this moment. How you can feel the muscles in his arms as he wraps them around you, or how his voice rumbles through your head as he speaks with your ear pressed to his body. You’re surrounded by him and it feels so good.

“He was a loser,” you answer simply, too engrossed in the feeling of Jack to answer in any more detail. He’s just so soft to snuggle up to, just like always, and the scent of his spiced cologne engulfs you, drawing you in. You tilt your head, bringing your nose closer to the source of the aroma. His neck was merely inches away from your face, and hes sure to have noticed the way your breath, still ragged from crying, tickles the skin.

He doesn’t pass comment.

“A loser?” Jack questions, voice utterly confused at your lack of context. Loser is a word he’d use to describe a lot of your exes—all of them, actually—but none of them have ever upset you to this level before… especially not on the first date.

“Yeah,” you close your eyes as you spoke, focussing only on the calmness that being held in Jack’s arms brings you. His is a touch you know you can relax into; soft and firm and protective, all at the same time. You sigh as your body melts into him a little more, “Kept commenting on my body and being gross.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” you can’t help but smile, despite the fact that you’re pretty sure he’s being serious. “If he's as much of a loser as you say I'm sure I can take him.”

The giggle that erupts from you is music to his ears, like a choir of angels singing down from the heavens. He closes his eyes, determined to block the world out until he's surrounded by only that sound.

“Im sure you could,” your voice sounds much happier with the remnants of laughter laced through it; he could listen to it forever, “but I don't really care about him all that much. I only went out with him to try and get over the other guy I'm in love with.”

And just like that, Jack’s world comes to a stop.

“Wait, there’s another guy?” God, he sounds so pathetic, although he supposes he only really has himself to blame. He’d realised by now that all these silly little dates were mainly just to fill your time, but maybe if he wasn’t so caught up in his own feelings for you, he would’ve noticed the serious feeling you were harbouring for someone else. He could’ve let himself down gently so he didn’t have to experience this; the knife in the chest that is reality. Perhaps he’s a masochist, because for some reason he twists the knife and asks, “Do I know him?”

“You know him very well,” you explain softly, “Too well.”

Jack is silent for a moment, lost in thought as he processes the information you’ve given him. How bad could it have been to have chased the person you truly loved? He knows you too well to think you’d go after someone bad but what other reason would you have to keep your true feelings hidden?

And then it twigs.

His brows furrow a little.

“Who was it?” He asks.

“Who was who?” You reply.

Playing dumb is a childish move, but its the last defense you have left.

“Who were you in love with, dummy?”

“Jack, I-” you start, but he soon cuts you off with a stern shake of his head.

“Tell me who,” he repeats, “No excuses.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Who?” He presses.

“Please don’t hate me…”

“I could never,” he says, simply, “tell me who.”

“You,” you whimper before you can stop it, “I'm so hopelessly in love with you, Jack.”

Silence.

He won't answer, you tell yourself. He won't answer because you've fucked it all up. Exponentially, actually. You feel like a fool. Like the biggest idiot on the planet. Your date had been over for all of 20 minutes and you’re already declaring your love to another man. The man. The one that had kept you dating men you could never fall for with only your delusions to keep you sane. Although sane feels like a strong word, right now. Nothing about this is sane. Love has somehow managed to drive you insane. Love is now enemy number one; a dirty, horrible, friendship ruining thing.

But even now your brain is deluding you, because you’re pretty sure you can feel Jack’s fingers tightening on your shoulder as if trying to keep you locked to his side. And when you look at him with glazed over eyes, you’re almost positive you can see a toothy smile taking over his features. Eyes becoming crescents, graced by sweet little crow's feet dancing at the corners. His nose is scrunched up as it always is when he was so overwhelmingly happy. His lips are pulled back to reveal that pretty smile that you've found yourself fawning over for way too long now. Perhaps if you were just a tad more insane, you'd blame his overjoyed expression on a trick of the light, but you know what you’re seeing.

You can’t understand it.

“You love me,” he says, voice teeming with what seems like pure, unadulterated happiness. It makes you frown, but he doesn’t stop, “and after all these years, this is how you tell me? Sitting on the curb outside this crummy restaurant?”

“I—” he stops your words with a laugh of pure elation.

“Such an idiot, aren’t you?” he seems far too close. The mint from his chewing gum is all you can smell, and the warmth of his breath fans against your cheek. If you were to scoot in just a touch, his lips would be on yours. You’d be kissing him. You want to kiss him. “All these years I’ve been trying to keep my emotions on a leash because of how unavailable you seemed. All these years, you could’ve been mine~” His lips look so soft, “I could’ve been holding you, loving you, just like you deserve,” you can’t help but lean in just a little more, “Dummy.”

That’s it. You breach the gap, bumping your lips against his in a timid kiss. It lasts no longer than a few seconds, and you barely even have chance to close your eyes, but it’s better than everything you’ve been making do with for the past few years. None of those men could ever ignite the spark in your chest quite like this. No one could make each and every atom in your body melt in the way that Jack does. Nothing has ever made you feel this way before.

But it’s over all too soon, and you could lean in for more, but your eyes catch his and suddenly you’re in trance, held captive in the gaze of the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. “I love you,” you whisper out. He hums in acknowledgement, a hopeless look on his face as he just watches you watch him.

“I love you too.”

[uprightpillar]

Boys workin' on empty

Summary: Andrew has worked with his hands so they're rough, but he is always gentle with you.

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: fluff

Word Count: 610

Author's Note: Little drabble about manual labourer Andrew inspired by a conversation with Phoebe @man-i-love-fanfiction betaed by the wonderful Daisy @comehereoohlala

Requests are open if you're so inclined!

AO3 link / fic under the cut

Andrew's hands are rough, a side effect of being a labourer all his adult life. So his hands are rough, but always so gentle with you. He gets home from work, tired and filthy, and heads straight for the shower, grabbing you to come and join him on the way. He spends a few minutes just holding you beneath the flow of the water, letting the stresses wash away and breathing in the feeling of you in his arms.

Eventually, he pulls back, grabs the shampoo and gently works it through your hair. He teases out the tangles before rinsing out the suds and following up with conditioner. His touch is feather-light, barely there as he combs his fingers through to the ends.

You wait beneath the stream of water, hugging him from behind as he takes care of his own hair. When he emerges, he smells of you. Your shampoo, your shower gel and it tugs at your heartstrings that all he wants after the day away from you is to surround himself with you in every possible way. He gets out first, slings a towel around his waist and gets you one, wrapping you up in it as soon as you step into the cold air. His motions are methodical and practised, drying your skin without irritating it.

You've made a soup for dinner, warm and hearty and comforting. Roasted red pepper and spiced butternut squash, full of the flavours of autumn. There's fresh bread to go with it. Andrew can't cook for shit, doesn't pay attention to ingredients and flavour profiles, but his bread is better than any you've ever tasted. Watching his large, calloused hands knead the dough, so firm and sure, is a treat you savour as much as the end product itself.

You eat together at the table, legs pressed up against each other. You don't talk much, both exhausted from work, occasionally humming along to the jazz emanating from the record player in the corner of the room. When you've mopped up the last of the soup with the crusty bread, he takes the plates to the sink. He always insists on washing up because"you did all the cooking love, it's my turn to help."

He tells you you don't need to help dry, that you've done plenty for the day, to put your feet up and rest. Of course, you do anyway, relishing in the opportunity to be close to him, to plant a kiss on his cheek as you take each dish from him. It draws a shy smile and a small chuckle from him, always bashful under your attention.

When you're finished, he sweeps you up into a hug that is so sweet and tender you feel like your heart might burst. Almost before you notice it, he's lifting you off your feet and carrying you up to bed, hands gripping your thighs tight, the coarse texture of his skin on yours enough to soothe your frayed nerves.

As you brush your teeth together, he leans his head on yours and looks at you in the mirror, eyes so full of adoration and love that you almost can't bear it. You reach your bed and he goes to fetch a glass of water for your nightstand, knowing you get thirsty in the night. He kisses your forehead before crossing to his side of the bed. He opens his arms and you crawl into them without hesitation, head on his chest as he buries his face in your hair. You fall asleep quickly, safe and loved, rough hands gently tracing "I love you" onto your skin.

[thetiredartist101]

[Idk what to call this CRK AUs]

I really wanted to get this out before Silent Salt came out in the Gacha so designs might looked abit rushed but I did also decide to redo the Ancient cookies due to the lack of detail originally, these designs were made before I saw Hollyberry and Eternalsugar’s other designs (Awakening and costume) although I won’t change my designs because I am very lazy and took more time than I’d normally for this-

Anywho lore and notes:

Both of these are separate universes that eventually collides, one is where the beast cookies are good while the other AU takes place in a universe where the Cookies got their awakenings and Souljam back but had a sense of vengeance, despite getting their revenge there was still something wrong with each one of them so they planned.

EXTRA NOTE:

YES I headcanon Black Sapphire being the child between Shadowmilk and Eternal Sugar due to a lot of reasons (I am not going to get into because I’d be rambling a lot

YES I also do believe in Elder Faerie Cookie being Silent Salt, although I will change things if proven otherwise.

I also don’t have proper names for them just titles :D that I thought would be cool

Fun fact about all of them (in this AU ofc):

“Savior Cookies”

- Freedom Knight actually was given his Soul Jam after the passing of White Lily

- Burning Spice has tats with meanings such as a chemical formula for spice on his shoulder, tiger patterns on his arms and more

- Sage of Truth is the main reason the 5 collective agree on anything, being the one to seek truth and maintain it

- Menmento Mori is remembered by most as one of the most elegant cookies, forging anything from the flour she possesses or is given to help others

- Empathic Horticulturalist, the mother of Lil Sapphire Cookie tries to maintain her garden, enjoying help from others and tries to keep in contact despite always being in her garden

*still debating on the second AU being a vengeance AU or a Swap AU for I love Swap AUs*

(This lore is not concrete but original I just wanted to draw Truthless Recluse versions of the ancient cookies so this is all I got now while drawing them out, I might expand on this AU in the future, I dunno but I hope this doesn’t flop for this had taken me too flippin long, either way, good day!)

[flyingwargle]

january fanfic recs!

the first round of recs are now here! i'm eager to find more life-changing bangers this year and share with everyone my favorites for each month <3 (also, i accept recs any time!)

all previous monthly recs are tagged with fanfic recs! check them out if you'd like more!

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

i would write ya a love letter t. 3k. sakusa is helping atsumu move when he finds an old love letter under the bed addressed to kita. love the premise and eventual getting together, as well as the comfort <3

i don't want you like a best friend e. 3.6k. atsumu is pining and everyone can tell except for sakusa. also, body worship, one of my favorite tropes.

particular e. 4.7k. mid-timeskip sakuatsu trying kink for the first time. always love rinpanna and winterwaltz's explicit works and this one doesn't disappoint.

parallax error: line of sight t. 11.6k. 2/2. i read atsumu's pov (parallax error: angle of inclination) last month and this one is sakusa's pov. it's really lovely to see how both sides fall for each other and both are beautifully written.

runner, runner t. 14.7k. atsumu, sakusa, and bokuto lose hinata during a night out in tokyo and try to look for him. amazing shenanigans, friendship, and feelings realization.

crypsis g. 16.1k. "what do you want, miya?" is the best quote to encapsulate this fic, with self-destructing atsumu afraid of taking the next step forward. beautiful prose and character dynamics.

On Love and Onigiri m. 20.5k. atsumu is a bestselling author and sakusa is a book critic who has never given his works 5 stars. atsumu is determined to change that. you'll also have to pry the trope of trying to impress your love interest from my cold, dead hands. i'll eat it up every time.

draw the line, and i'm losing my mind t. 26.1k. sakusa has his memory of atsumu wiped and atsumu, in petty revenge, does the same. this broke my heart and reduced me to my knees. it's angst with a hopeful ending, just in case you can't handle angst without a good ending.

NOT CLICKBAIT: Watch As Osaka Man Nearly Destroys Brother's Relationship t. side sunaosa. 27.9k. sakusa is accidentally roped into atsumu's scheme of helping both osamu and suna propose to each other separately. extremely funny and endearing. my favorite this month <3

sunaosa

touched down m. 20.5k. i have never read such a flavor of depressed osamu like this before, complemented with angst, introspection, and a hopeful ending. the prose will sink its teeth into you until you finish it all in one sitting.

sakuatsu & sunaosa

Sundays at Onigiri Miya t. 6.4k. the miya4 are always the best group to read, and this fic of sakusa and osamu trying to propose to their significant others doesn't disappoint.

iwaoi

please be a good man, please say you won't tell e. 21.9k. iwa accidentally sends a nude to the wrong person and now all of the jnt (read: atsumu) is trying to figure out who iwa's boyfriend is. also, he and oikawa keep getting sexiled. funny and heartwarming.

bokuaka

Catching Up e. 11.1k. akaashi finally realizes he may have feelings for bokuto but tries to quash them because surely bokuto won't reciprocate (spoilers: he does). great plot and spice!

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other

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A Split-Second of Violence g. hinata and karasuno-centric. 122.3k. 38/38. WOW. WAY TO BREAK MY HEART. the incident literally takes a split second and becomes a monster of friendship, hurt/comfort, and trauma. i hugged my hinata plush every night while reading this. we love and respect the karasuno family in this house.

[hollowwrites]

Blindsided

Part 17

Ominis x MC

Summary - After learning new information about the next Trail, preparations need to be made and confessions must be told.

I just wanted to say now as I did in my last bit of spice that it isn't my thing normally so sorry if its hastily written and bad. Also, they're virgins, i wanted it to be a little awkward so sorry if you're not into that

Warnings - Spice (Oral, Mutual Masturbation(ish), unprotected P in V, mild pain from being virgins, mildly clincal talk about sex from research) Biting, Praise Kink, all characters aged up 18+

Word Count - 9389

~

“Ominis…you’re making it rather difficult to walk” she complained softly wriggling against the awkward way his elbow joined with hers.

They had decided the safest and best course of action would be to hole up in the Undercroft till the end of the day.

Both to avoid Sebastian and any of the Tri-Wizard organisers waiting to pounce.

The Room of Requirement may have worked, but Professor Weasley knew of its location. And if faculty knew…those who organised the trials would most definitely know.

So the Undercroft it was.

It worked out well. That was where Ominis had hidden that Tri-Wizard history book, and there were a few passages that he’d like Sebastian to read through…

…before Ominis’ inevitable apology for his outburst in the Library.

“Sorry…” Ominis smiled shyly as he released her from his grip momentarily, instead opting to snake his hand around her torso, settling at the small of her back “…but I’m not letting you out of my sight until this second trial is over.”

As they rounded the corner by the Undercroft a gaggle of younger students loitered about, awaiting the lesson about to begin above them. Evelyn took the opportunity to pull Ominis aside as they waited patiently for the corridors to clear, and they could safely descend to the depths of their hidden space.

She tugged softly on his arms till she was backed against the wall a gentle smile on her lips as she covered his eyes.

“I’m afraid that’s quite difficult for you” she teased delicately, earning a slight chuckle as he pulled her hands to his mouth.

“It is an expression…” he whispered against her finger tips before placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles “…one that I find quite apt. Because I can see you-”

His eyes shot towards her, locked with hers somewhat unknowingly. He could hear her breathing, talking. Just above that, hear the subtle sighs leaving her nose. So above that…must be her eyes. He focused in with an almost eerie accuracy, her features mapped in his mind, always.

He tapped her nose, then the triangle of moles across her cheek, drawing a line between each before bringing his hand to her jaw. His thumb settled over the apex of her chin, tilting it up as though staring into her very soul.

“-and I am not letting you out of my sight” he continued pointedly.

Evelyn gulped.

The vaguely intimate way in which he touched her had garnered a few looks from the students now filtering up the stairs. It didn’t help, of course, that she’d pulled him to the wall, her own fingers toying with the edges of his robes.

She could hear them whispering, and based on the slight narrowing of Ominis’ eyes; so could he.

“People are looking…” she whispered, the sound barely carrying on her breath as it washed over him.

“I am quite aware…” His voice came through the filter of his teeth, As was the norm when he was annoyed...or feeling protective. She wondered what they were saying, what Ominis had heard. But based on the flexing of his jaw she assumed perhaps it best not to ask.

They remained locked against the wall, his arm encasing her possessively until the students eventually filed into class. The Defence Against the Dark Arts tower was once again left empty and silent, save for the distant sound of the enchanted instruments playing tirelessly down the hall. This peaceful rift in time, between classes, had become the perfect time to skulk off together. Students busy learning. Professors busy teaching. Their only concern was Peeves and Black. Peeves they had managed to avoid his ire, luckily, and Black didn’t care enough to leave his office most days. Although that didn’t stop the taboo feeling that she was doing something wrong, welling in her stomach each time they opened that clockwork cabinet.

But she was with Ominis.

Safe.

~

Once again, Evelyn was struck by the obvious influences of the trio.

As normal, Evelyn’s corner remained untouched and perfectly polished. Every little detail placed perfectly for both ease, comfort and Ominis to avoid bumping into.

Sebastian left a small trail of destruction in his wake, the latest of which was a toppled over stack of barrels that had been left strewn across the room. He had been practising new spells, new curses, new everything, and this time the victim was the barrels…and a pile of quidditch equipment.

Had Sebastian brought Imelda down here?

And then there was Ominis.

He had adopted the space underneath the Triptych. The sad looking pile of blankets thrown underneath it was standard but since her last visit to the Undercroft, he had added much more. Made it more…homely.

With great insistence from Evelyn he had gained a mattress. A rather dilapidated looking one but it was a mattress nonetheless. It took a full afternoon of whinging but eventually they transfigured a couple of crates into the now comfortable bed. And though he would never admit it, Evelyn could tell he was grateful for her…nagging.

He’d stopped moaning about his aching back at least…

The mattress itself almost looked inviting with the multiple plush throws and blankets that adorned it. A scatter of pillows and cushions were tossed around with abandon but it was cosy. Lived in. Perhaps too lived in, considering he hadn’t slept in an actual bed in well over a month now.

He had also sheltered himself away, enclosing his space with bookcases, chalkboards, barrels. Anything he could get his wand on, he’d pulled towards him, building walls and dividers. She didn’t quite understand why until she stepped between them and into the makeshift room within a room.

It was immediately…warmer. Less drafty.

She smiled softly at these additions, though this home away from home just reminded her of why he was down here in the first place…

The Tournament.

And with the revelation of the second trial came yet another reason he couldn’t return to the boys dorms.

“Looks like you’ll be down here for a while longer…if the boys dorm is now not only covered in spider webs but damp too…” Evelyn remarked with a heavy tone of dismay.

As happy as she was that he was warmer, his nightmares were still…present. He hadn’t had one in a while but he could. And the idea of him being alone when they could occur was too much. It reminded her of her own twisted thoughts. Of him sleeping alone at Gaunt Manor.

No one to help him.

No one to be there for him.

No one to…love him.

“It’s not all bad…” he said, rather pleased with himself “…I haven’t heard Sebastian’s snoring in weeks”

Ominis’ cheeky grin almost made her forget herself. He happily manoeuvred his way into his den, wand blinking away as he cleaned up after himself. Shifted a blanket back onto a chair, a book onto a shelf, a teacup from the settee.

“Yes but…I don’t know. Something about you being down here alone-”

“Stay with me then” he said casually, continuing with his homely chores. His wand trailed over cover after cover till he found the Tri-Wizard History, throwing it atop the desk with a huff.

Sebastian would get an earful about this, no doubt about it.

“You mean sleep down here with you?” She asked incredulously.

Ominis didn’t miss a beat. He heard that sharp intake of breath, the tone in which she spoke. And if it was anyone else he’d be worried he’d said something wrong…

Well that’s a lie.

If it was anyone else he wouldn’t care to ask in the first place.

But this was Evelyn.

And they had already slept together multiple times. Shared a bed once.

So this development he simply found…amusing.

“Why not?” He chirped turning towards her and leaning back against the little chest of drawers his uniform stuck out of haphazardly. His prim and proper accent simply accentuated the teasing behind his words. It wasn’t really a question.

More of a dare…

And that alone set Evelyns skin ablaze.

Why not, Evelyn? It’s just sleeping…

Her own mind reasoned with her in a hushed whisper, almost like she thought Ominis could hear.

You’ve slept with him before. It’s fine nothing will happen.

…unless you want something to happen. Then you need only ask.

Remember he said it’s all he could think about?

Stop it.

You’re all he can think about.

“I…well…it’s…” she stammered and Ominis didn’t need sight to know she was blushing.

“You’re adorable when it comes to matters of the heart. Do you know that?” He smirked and crossed his arms.

“I am not…” she responded with a pout, crossing her arms in a similar fashion to him, only much more…sulkier.

“And so expressive. Thank Merlin! Sometimes I don’t even need my wand to know your mood” He threw his arms out, gesturing his aforementioned wand wildly in her direction. His smirk grew wider, lips parting to reveal the pearly white fangs at either side of his mouth.

It had been just over a week since she was last down here.

Since they had…been alone together.

But the air still felt thick and intimate. And as she noticed his lips parting she realised…it wasn’t the room making her feel this way. It wasn’t the rooms fault her breathing had become laboured and the air difficult to take in.

It was him.

His lithe frame that leaned taught. His forearms that flexed gently as he recrossed his arms. And that smirk. That arrogant and self important smirk. Why did that make her stomach knot?

Her sudden and, unbeknownst to him, lustful silence must have been just a second too long for his liking, his concern for upsetting her resurfacing. Ominis’ features softened and his frame relaxed, taking a confident step towards her to cup her face.

“Stay with me down here…” his soft tone presented the statement as a question this time “…I can make it warm, comfortable. I just need to know you’re safe”

And once again, her mind wondered to more sordid activities whilst he remained as sweet and as caring as he always had. A familiar guilt ate at her insides, shifting her eyes away from him and down towards the floor.

He was offering her a haven. And she thought only of how they could use it.

“I’d need clothes…pyjamas at the very least” she mumbled, blinking her thoughts quickly away as her eyes kept pulling towards the bed. Thoughts of what the sheets would feel like against her bare skin…what he would feel like.

“Not tonight, I don’t think” he whispered back as his boyish smile twisted quickly into a smirk. “Tonight…you can wear mine and first thing in the morning we can gather some necessities”

And once again he held himself in the most gentlemanly of ways, making her guilt even stronger. He pulled her closer, planting a chaste kiss against her forehead and beamed down at her, a genuine smile pulled across his hollow cheeks.

“You say this like it’s a permanent change”

“Mmm…” he hummed as his lips brushed down her temple and across her cheekbones “…I could keep you…”

They weren’t so much kisses as they were…caresses. His lips mirrored that which his finger drew out on the opposite side of her face and she shuddered.

He’s just touching me and I can’t help myself.

Then he laughed softly, the air expelled from him brushing the small hairs at her ear away.

“I don’t know how you put up with my…possessiveness” he chuckled breathily again, his fingers finally finishing their journey at her jaw, cupping her cheek within his palm.

“I’ve had practise…” she whispered sweetly “…what with how close we were last year. All that’s changed really is the occasional kiss”

Ominis huffed a small breath of laughter as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

“I don’t really know where it came from…” he started quietly, like he was truly speaking his mind…freely…

“When Sebastian started down…that path…it triggered something within me I have not been able to satiate. I wanted to control everything. Every little aspect of his life -

“It’s why we clashed so often. Still do. I love him…like he was my own brother and I can’t stand idle as he suffers. Whether it’s to his own stupidity or any external force -

“Same with Anne. When she was cursed it felt a little like a part of me was cursed along with her. Because I love her. She treated me the same as Sebastian from the moment she met me -

“And you -

“I have never known anyone like you. You are a…beautiful contradiction, my love. Both the most deadly and caring person I have ever met. Kind and loving yet harsh and volatile. Sweet…and at times a little bit sour.

“And I love you…” he whispered softly, barely loud enough to hear. But down here…it seemed to echo around the room. Bounce around her mind.

“I’m in love with you. I’m not entirely sure when it happened. I just wanted you around in the beginning. All the time. But…at some point last year that want became a need. And I couldn’t imagine my life without you”

Words failed her as she looked up into the far away gaze of his glassy irises. He had a way with words. Always had. Each one like the note of delicate symphony. And it was music to her ears.

She had to blink away the tears that threatened to spill from her lashes, lest he think he had upset her. And she couldn’t bare to break his heart…even if it was just for a moment.

“I-“

“You don’t need to say it back. I just…wanted you t-“

“I love you too!” she beamed, the words falling fast as though she’d been holding them back. And in many ways, she had…

“I don’t know when either. Sometimes it feels like I always have. But at the very least… from the moment you offered me help in that window…I have been yours. And I love-“

She didn’t get to say it a second time…

His lips captured hers immediately. If she had been paying attention instead of concentrating on the stream of words that tumbled from her, she would’ve noticed the way his fingers untangled themselves from the hairs at the nape of her neck, and glided closer to her lips. As she spoke, his fingers honed in, so he could encapsulate her lips with pinpoint accuracy.

Strange how one little phrase can change everything.

Change the way someone can hold you or kiss you.

He had embraced her many times in many different ways. As a friend. A protector. With affection and with anguish. Yet there was something about this embrace that reminded her of the first time they kissed. Desperate, pleading and unyielding. Like a dam had burst.

But she could feel his love. Feel it pouring into her like warm waves lapping against a shore.

It was passion in every meaning of the word.

Needy, wanting but warm and reciprocated.

Ominis’ lips moved slowly at first, compensating for the speed in which his mouth collided with hers.

And though it was slow and gentle, he didn’t break. The only time permitted for air was as he tilted her head back and his position shifted slightly, towering over her.

He shrugged his arms past hers, manoeuvring his hands to her lower back. As he held her tightly, he pressed her into him more, forcing the air to come gasping from her lungs.

With her hands now relegated from their original position, she was forced to be bold.

Not that she was against being bold. Not with him.

She wound her fingers around his neck, holding him loosely against her. A gentle reminder, should he pull away, that he would not be going far.

But he took that as more of an invitation.

As he stepped forward, shuffling along the floor with desperation to get closer, he brought her almost completely off her feet, her gasps filling his mouth. His fingers tightened around her waist as he supported her, trailing down the fabric of her shirt till he felt the divot of her hipbone beneath the material. The trembling of his fingers betrayed him, a clear sign accompanied with his busy lips, that he had an insatiable hunger for her.

Without knowing, they had stumbled across the room and against the mattress on the floor, tumbling to the bed over a stray blanket. He held her tight to his body as his knee hit the mattress, cradling her against him and protecting her from the fall. A breathy laugh left them both, neither wasting another second as their lips crashed eagerly against each other again.

At first he gently tested the waters. His tongue lapping at her pillowy bottom lip like a snakes might, a thought that made Evelyn giggle, though the noise was lost amidst his greedy lips and gentle tongue.

Not even that was enough.

Roaming hands covered the landscape of her torso, kneading and poking, gripping and digging into her flesh. His hand ran up her side, fingers dancing over her ribs like the keys of a piano, slowly but surely untucking her shirt from her waistband. The cold of the Undercrofts stagnant air nipped at her skin and as his hands quickly replaced the fabric he had discarded, the backs of his fingers were greeted with the familiar braille of her goosebump pocked skin.

The corner of his lip curled, trying with all his might not to smirk as she murmured softly beneath him. But it was too late.

He didn’t want to seem cocky, but he couldn’t stop the twitch peeling at his lips. He merely observed the effect he had on her and found irrefutable evidence of her longing, he can’t be faulted in finding pleasure in her…well…pleasure. Can he?

She could feel his satisfaction, his lips becoming thin and his kisses becoming sharper as he grinned. All teeth and sharp canines.

There was no way he was getting all his own way this time.

Obviously she enjoyed their last…dalliance. It had haunted her mind many times over the last few days, that same knot he had undone skillfully, tying itself back up each time she thought about it. And with each time the knot grew tighter. And larger. And more complex. Till not even her own fingers could help her anymore.

She wanted him.

So when he felt the dimples of her skin, a smug smile threatening to spill from his lips, her own hands palmed against his chest, feeling the ever quickening beat of his heart under his shirt. She revelled in the fact his smirk faltered, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth as her finger hooked around the knot of his tie, slipping easily between the silken material and pulling it apart. Pulling him down further along with it, the material quickly ripped from his neck.

Merlin…

There was something about his neck that got to her.

The clenching of his jaw when he absentmindedly ground his teeth.

The flexing of the tendons as he turned his head.

The bob of his throat when he swallowed.

Even the constellation of moles that waterfalled down his neck. Everything pointed, guided, coerced her further down. Led her eyes down to the chest her hand currently pressed against.

And when she pulled the tie from his lapels and the crisp white folds of his shirt fell open, he gulped, pulling away just a fraction.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised she was so forward. She was honest. Unabashedly so. At times it bordered on blunt. After all, it was her who first took his arm in Hogsmeade. Her who asked him sleep next to her in the Common Room. Her who first kissed his cheek just a few weeks ago.

Now her fingers undid button after button, exposing his skin to the cool air of the Undercroft.

Though he was surprised at her forward action, undressing him slowly, it wasn’t completely unwelcome. But it didn’t stop a note of panic from rising in his throat like bile.

He hadn’t seen himself naked, and yet all signs seemed to be leading to her seeing him first.

She had seen him once in the dark of her home. Deep under the cover of night and the guise of friendship stopping any lewd thoughts from completely taking over.

He remembered how she gently explored the scarred landscape of his torso. How she gasped in horror at the initial sight, yet embraced him moments later with no care to how he looked.

He could feel her tiny fingers trembling, her breath catching and the tiny sounds of her teeth nibbling at her lip.

She was having this reaction to him.

Sebastian often told him scars feel worse than they look and that he had nothing to fear.

And it was only now he truly believed it.

Emboldened by her want for him and the tiny hesitation her fumbling fingers demonstrated, Ominis reached down and looped his arm under her back, pulling her up and throwing her against the pillows with a barely suppressed growl from deep within his throat.

The combined gasp squeal that left her only encouraged his behaviour.

His fingers dug into her side, keeping his arm around her, her back arched, pressing flush to his almost completely exposed chest.

He didn’t want her to move. Didn’t want her going anywhere. When he said he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, he meant it. If that meant keeping her down here like this, so be it. Especially if she kept pressing into him the way she was, lips urgent and desperate as though if they stopped they could never be this way again. Every movement and murmur to be relished and remembered.

He leant in further, his knee nudging her legs apart and sliding up her thigh. It settled between her legs, her body lowering subconsciously, seemingly searching for any friction she could find.

Ominis felt the way her hips bucked against his thigh, tiny murmurs filling his mouth as his teeth bit softly into her lip.

He tried to remain a gentlemen, he honestly and truly did. But her noises, and soft skin, and hot, warm breath, and-

It was all too much.

He could feel his jaw working as he got progressively more and more wound up, taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to rip at her clothes.

He knew what lay just beneath the surface, could only imagine what her breast felt like as he listened to her breath, heavy and panting. All he had to do was reach out-

Suddenly, He pulled back with a sharp intake of air, his eyes holding a dangerous concoction of love, true love, and an untamed want.

Whether it was the new position they found themselves in or something else…but he could feel himself about to snap.

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t push so hard. You’ve already given me so much”

The soft indents of flesh along her side quickly rushed with blood as his fingers relinquished the hold on her waist.

“No please…take. Take what you want…take me” Evelyn practically pleaded, immediately chiding herself for allowing someone to have this effect on her.

“Be…” he inhaled again, through his nose to clear his head, controlled and calculated “…Be very careful how you word things to me”

“I know what I’m saying. And I mean it. Take me”

Her own voice sounded foreign to her.

And yet didn’t to Ominis.

He recognised the breathy, airy sound of her arousal. The way each inhale took just a second too long as it caught in her throat. The way her breath was hot against his lips. And there was a husk to it he knew only he had heard.

He’d heard it when she woke in a morning, mind caught between slumber and reality. Vulnerable and soft.

He’d heard it when he kissed her, the first word afterwards always carrying the barest hint of a croak.

And he’d heard it when his fingers roamed between her legs. Every murmur, every moan that very same ache to her voice.

It was a privilege to know her this intimately. To be the only one to ever know her this intimately.

And that he was so close to more. More of her.

All of her.

An act he should be terrified of…but wasn’t.

If Ominis was being honest, and rather pessimistic with himself, he never expected to get this far. With anyone.

From his early teenage years he assumed he’d never kiss anyone. Never feel the touch of someone’s skin and it mean anything more than an accidental stumble or at best a gesture of friendship.

And then he met her.

Evelyn and her perfectly smooth voice and fingers that sought him out. No accident needed.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pulled away from her, propping himself up with one arm, the other holding her waist as though holding something precious and delicate. The heat had melted from his voice, leaving only concern and worry behind. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted her, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He wanted her to be certain.

“I’m…sure…”

Suddenly it felt real…

Panic. Clear panic bubbled in her throat…there was still doubt.

Not with him. He would be perfect, as always…

But since Ominis and Evelyn had gotten closer, she had made the mistake of researching. And her discoveries were…less than appealing.

Every muggle novel or article described her experience as a violation. An abomination of her virtue and destruction of her self worth. The words ‘whore’ and ‘harlot’ jumped from the pages. Combined with what she had heard people say of her own mother as a child…a single mother out of wedlock…it simply didn’t seem worth it.

And the Wizarding World wasn’t too much better.

Yes, Sex was much less frowned upon amongst her fellow witches and wizards. But the almost clinical way that it was described left her feeling no better.

‘A sharp shooting pain can be felt during a woman’s first time as the hyman tears making it an uncomfortable and sometimes painful experience’

That sentence alone bounced around her head.

Pain. Whore. Tear. Violation.

No where, except the fantasies of romance writers, described the ordeal as anything positive. Joyous. Fun.

They were supposed to make love…yet no where even uttered the word.

“…I’m just...” she started, voice shaking just as much as the fingers she clung to him with “…I’m scared…”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t…” Ominis chuckled softly, cupping her cheek and running his thumb across the soft expanse. “I am too in truth…We can take things slowly. And we can stop at any moment. You need only say…”

“I’m not worried about that. It’s going to hurt…” she stated, matter of factly

“I…” he swallowed thickly, but continuing on with a tenderness to his voice “…have heard that can be the case…I’ll be as gentle as you need me to be…but you may be right. It could hurt…”

Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, taking a calming breath in and blowing back through her lips. The cool air fanned over Ominis, a concerned albeit soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I want it to be you…” she whispered, hastily looking at the gap between them and tugging her skirt up. He quickly snapped up her hand, stilling her movements.

“It doesn’t have to be now or-”

“No let’s just…get it over with” she muttered wriggling in his firm but gentle grasp

“Evelyn…” he held her wrist loosely, making sure not to hurt her, eyes hard and face stoic “…I mean it. It doesn’t have to be now. Or ever if you don’t want to. I love you…not your body.”

She blinked.

No where had she read about this.

“Do you mean that?”

“Stupid question really…” Ominis scoffed, his hand releasing her wrist and trailing up her arm. His hand journeyed slowly up to the side of her neck, slowly tracing across her moles on her cheek pointedly before placing his palm against her neck. “…considering I hadn’t touched you properly for the first two years of us knowing each other and yet still fell in love with you”

His fingers travelled softly across her neck, feeling her heart hammering against the soft flesh below her jaw.

“Well…yes but-“

“But nothing, Evelyn” he interrupted “What you say goes. You want to continue? I will oblige. You want me to be forever at your side and never touch you again? I will oblige”

He laughed through his nose, hanging his head a little lower as though telling her a secret “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss your lips…” he murmured as his thumb diverted to run along her lip “…but I would do anything to make you happy”

Evelyn once again found herself at a loss for words though she knew the course she wanted to take.

With her words failing her, she did the only thing she could think of, leaning up to place a soft gentle kiss against his lips.

“Just…take it slow” she whispered against him, falling back against the pillow as a gentle rumble left his throat.

“With pleasure” Ominis murmured before pulling himself away from her.

She almost whined, protesting against his sudden absence, when his eyes darkened.

The way he knelt above her, as though he could see the fast rise and fall of her chest sent shivers down her spine. Shivers she was convinced he could feel, because his hands chased them.

They traced, slowly and methodically, down from her cheek to her waist. They stopped at every juncture that caused her breath to hitch.

The sensitive spot below her jaw that he brushed against, pulling the emerald green ribbon from her lapels.

Her stomach as he skillfully and methodically unbuttoned her shirt.

Her collarbone that his nails grazed, peeling her blouse back.

He almost entirely ignored her breasts, though they heaved and settled as he removed her clothing. It almost made her…needy, wanting to demand he touch her and pull those soft whines from her like he did before.

She soon realised why he avoided that area…

He had other plans.

Like a distraction, his fingers played over the scar along her side, tracing the swirling gnarled skin and finding beauty in it. Beauty in the marks that littered his own body. Beauty in her soft skin and enduring nature.

Then he suddenly yearned to taste that soft skin, head dipping quickly to encapsulate her soft peak in his mouth.

She gasped, harsh and loud, back arching and eyes going wide as her body grew warmer, the familiar buzz tingling its way between her legs..

Ominis simply chuckled, grinning whilst his mouth was full, his warmth breath fanning across her chest. As he grinned, his teeth scrapped across her small mounds, another harsh gasp making her push into his mouth further. Obviously, he did not complain, nipping at the tiny bud at the peak of her breast, tugging it between his teeth.

His fingers didn’t cease in their journey either. After exploring their shared scar, his nimble digits fell like rainfall to her hips and thighs.

Unknowingly, or more likely knowing exactly what he was doing, his sightless eyes looked up at her, his grin wide, her flesh tucked between his teeth. He tugged again gently, earning himself another sinful gasp before chuckling darkly, releasing her breast from his torment and continuing down…

Down…

Down his kisses trailed. Along the ever quickening rise and fall of her stomach, over the boney divots of her hip bones.

He rose on his knees just enough to tug her skirt down and off her legs, feeling the tremble of her thighs as he did.

Thats when he listened. Heard her soft shaking breath. Felt the quake in her body. Heard the way her hands slid over her skin, covering anywhere exposed.

He discarded her skirt with a flourished wrist and turned his attention back to her fully. He felt out her wrist and pulled it away from her chest, holding it loosely away from her.

“Darling…” he whispered, his tone full of accidental amusement “…I’m blind”

“Well yes but…” Evelyn choked out a nervous laugh, squirming beneath his non existent gaze “…instinct I suppose”

Ominis sighed, the jovial tone now lost.

Using her wrist and hooking underneath her knee, he lifted her with ease, pushing her just a little bit more up the bed. Her back now propped against his pillows, leaving her no choice but to look down at her almost completely nude form.

“You have nothing to worry about” he said softly, sitting up between her legs, his fingers idly tracing over her thighs, carefully and slowly dipping below the band of her underwear.

“You are beautiful” he stated with no room for arguments.

He deliberately took his time removing her underclothes. If at any point she wished to stop him, his movements would cease and her virtue remain intact.

But she didn’t.

She simply clung to the sheets below her, staring up at the man above her treating her like fine China.

Once again as her underwear came away, he felt the shake of her leg. Her nerves were understandable but they simply would not do.

Before he allowed her leg to drop down, raised high as he removed that last shred of clothing, he gripped her calf with barely contained want and brought it up to his lips. He pressed along her smooth skin, peppering along her leg till he reached her knee.

“You’re so soft. So warm” he murmured against her skin lowering himself to reach her thighs. He positioned her leg over his shoulder, almost burying his face in the pillowy flesh of her thigh.

“You have no reason to hide…from anyone” he whispered inching closer and closer to the apex of her thighs.

It was only when he placed a kiss against a particularly sensitive patch of her skin that she shook herself from her haze.

Her hand flew forward, grabbing him by the hair and pushing him away.

“What are you doing?” She panted, her voice filled with fear.

She didn’t anticipate that doing that would elicit such a reaction from him.

With her hand still knotted in his hair, his neck craned backwards and his milky eyes seemingly foggier than normal, he looked…sinful. Lips parted and wet from his constant kisses. Jaw flexing in anger from being ripped from his conquest. A dark smile revealing sharp teeth as he chuckled.

“I was enjoying you” he groaned, fingers digging into her hips as he held back “I can stop…but this will be so much easier if you’re ready”

“I am ready” she argued, gulping back the idea of his face buried…there.

Ominis rolled his eyes and couldn’t stop the sarcastic chuckle that left him.

“Please…” he scoffed indignantly, fingers relinquished their grip on her hip to slide under and trace her folds.

Sometimes his memory annoyed him. How he could recall, in detail, every minor inflection someone had in their voice in an argument. How he could still remember the texture of Bubotuber Puss against his skin after yet another catastrophic potions class.

But right now…his memory served him well.

Every divot and fold of her core ran through his mind. He recalled how her fingers pleasured herself and exactly how he could replicate it. The way he had memorised her, gave him a pinpoint accuracy for her desire and the slickness that awaited him.

“You need to-“ his breath caught and his eyes widened when his fingers dipped between.

As before, her need was evident.

He couldn’t help but gulp, his own arousal straining against the confounds of his trousers at this…revelation.

Oh she was indeed ready.

But this little discovery only made him more eager to have her…to taste her.

“Just trust me” he tried to whisper but instead his voice came out as a rough growl. He hoped it didn’t scare her, cursing himself for his thinly veiled want.

“It’s just…” her fingers tightened in his hair and he let out a sharp hiss, his hips flexing against the mattress and sending a shiver up his spine “…it seems so…wrong”

“Is it so wrong to want you to come apart?” He asked as softly as he could manage. With his gentle tone her fingers relaxed, still tangled in his pale locks but no longer holding him back like a rabid dog.

“No but-“

“And is it so wrong for it to be me who does that?” He whispered, slowly lowering himself giving her all the time in the world to stop him.

“No…” her voice broke

“Then do not deny me, love”

He allowed a silent beat to pass between them before he lowered further.

…Then his tongue replaced wherever his fingers had been.

Evelyn couldn’t deny that the feeling was…beyond her comprehension. She gasped loudly and rolled her head back against the pillow, his tongue working to relax every muscle in her body, as though each and every one of her nerves were being stimulated. She felt a heat course through her body.

Strange how an act can be so arousing, so utterly tempting that it winds the spring in your core tighter…and yet also work to immediately satiate that need.

As she gasped and groaned, Ominis did the same, her noises fuelling every flick of his tongue. And he found that each time he hummed or murmured his approval, she shivered and pressed herself down further onto his waiting tongue.

Unknowingly, His nose bumped against that bundle of nerves each time she bucked and moaned beneath him.

And soon it became more of a battle than a slow dance.

His hand strained against her hips, trying and failing to suppress her eager mewling. Until eventually he had enough, looping his arm over her leg, forcing it down as his hand crept up her torso. He gently coaxed her back down, flat against the mattress, feeling each moan vibrate from her chest.

He almost growled, though he contained his grimace against the sensitive area he now resided.

He lapped greedily, like a man starved. And though he was obviously blind, Evelyn noticed as she looked down his eyes were squeezed shut, delighting in every moan he pulled from her.

His tongue, flat and wide, travelled up her form. From her core to the sensitive nub atop, he replaced any wetness with his own.

“You are…” he interrupted himself, another feverish lap up her folds, his nose buried deep against that little spot again “…you taste…”

He flexed every muscle against her, a desperate attempt to stop himself crashing into her like a tidal wave. To trap her beneath him and dine upon her for hours.

Because he was not lying.

His condition made him sensitive to everything else around him. And her warm scent and sweet taste were a perfect addition to her already beautiful symphony of moans and sensations.

“…perfect…” he groaned, his tongue voraciously seeking any point that made her tremble.

He was almost angry for a moment that he could have been potentially deprived of this. Just another layer of her person that he knew and no one else did.

Another facet being just how…needy she was.

He knew this from her guiding him against her before but now…

As he spoke, she pushed softly on his head coaxing him back down even from his brief reprieve…

“Don’t…stop…” she panted, her back desperately trying to arch off the bed yet being held firm by his long arm snaking up to her chest.

And he obliged, diving eagerly back to lap, suckle and nip at her with an increased passion and intensity.

His focus became unwavering against her clit. His attention undivided as he felt her hand grip at his hair as though keeping him in his place. His tongue flicking over and over again groaning from the cacophony of sensations he could feel from her. And the delicious vibration of his tongue made her almost weep.

The ache in her stomach fell lower and lower, her mind reeling that she had almost stopped this.

And now he emphatically dined upon her, keeping her teetering on the edge. Torture in its most blissful form.

“Ah-“ Evelyn whispered before a sharp whimper cut through the otherwise silent room.

Because in her reverie, she hadn’t noticed his other hand move from her hip…and press against her entrance. His fingers curled inside her, filling his ears with such pretty little noises.

A breath caught moan seized in her throat, the only oxygen permitted being sharp little inhales as his finger left and married with another.

Her vision muddied as she bit into her lip, trying and failing to ease her need for him. Everything longed for him. Her stomach ached for more. Not more fingers, not more of the same. Him.

But she was so close.

And not a few seconds later, his fingers beckoning her and his lips locked over her, tongue fluttering…she sank. Sank into the sheets, fingers sinking into his hair, knees buried in his side.

With a loud whimper, nullified through her teeth, she found her release. The tension and fear surrounding the whole ordeal seemed meaningless now as she lay swimming in a hazy soft buzz.

Ominis simply smiled, a purr of satisfaction leaving him as he removed himself from between her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from her. Feel her slick against his nose, lips and fingers. Feel the tremble of her thighs as he situated himself between them again, pulling and spreading her apart.

“We can stop at that…” he murmured, his voice a much lower register than normal, leaning down to kiss along her neck.

It wasn’t completely a lie.

He would happily leave their evening at this, leave her to recover and snuggle into his side. Listen to her soft breathing as they fell asleep.

But even Evelyn, as naive about these affairs as she was, knew he wanted more.

If it weren’t for the brief glimpse of his darkened eyes, it was the hard and throbbing length pressed against her lower stomach as he leant down.

She tried to silence the gasp of shock as it pressed against her but failed. The noise itself sending him into overdrive and taking every shred of his willpower to resist the urge to rut against her.

“No…” she panted “…I want all of you”

Suddenly, she felt as though there were a time limit. As though every second not touching him was wasted time. Her hands sought him out, pushing the folds of his shirt off his shoulders whilst her other hand fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. And once again he encapsulated her wrists in his long fingers.

“Let me take care of you. I just need you to…” he bit his tongue, not really knowing how to phrase such a thing “…are you sure?”

Evelyn nodded feverishly, the haze of her climax still clouding her mind

“Certain…”

With her confirmation, he once again sat up on his knees, tugging at his trousers and underwear and releasing his throbbing member.

It was though the act of seeing him fully for the first time wiped clear the warm fuzzy feeling of her release.

And she gulped.

Because though she hadn’t seen a man naked before, she’d seen diagrams and pictures in books…that looked...large

Its leaking tip glistened in the low light of the Undercroft and the pale pink of it seemed so much darker against his alabaster skin. Almost angry.

“Is…something wrong?” He muttered, gripping the waistband of his trousers, brows furrowing.

“Fine!” She blurted out hoping her lack of breathing hadn’t given him a complex.

She had forgotten for a while…this was his first too.

“It’s just…” she murmured, not being able to take her eyes of it as it swung low. Without thinking, she reached forward, curious to see its comparison to her own fingers.

The moment her finger brushed against the wet tip, it twitched violently and Ominis hissed sharply through his teeth.

“I’m sorry. Did that hurt? Did I…I just wanted to see…” she stammered, pulling her hands back against her chest, retreating away from it as though looking at it could harm him.

“No just…a little warning next time” Ominis said softly, that same nervous cadence to his voice from earlier. The same nervous energy she had displayed not minutes ago…

“Can I-” Evelyn murmured, her hands reaching forward again.

“Yes…” he breathed, sucking in a breath sharply and keeping it in his throat.

This time when she touched him, he didn’t flinch. She marvelled at how soft it was. She didn’t know what to expect when it had been described as ‘hard’ in so many books. She almost expected it to be like stone. Or like tree bark. But it was smooth like silk.

Until she squeezed and realised just why it was described that way. Not only was it much bigger than her fingers but it somehow seemed harder than bone.

A thrill shot up her spine as she watched him.

His eyes fluttered closed as her hand closed around his girth.

His cheeks tinged pink, flushed and flustered unlike she’d ever seen him before.

Lips pursed and wet from her, his teeth biting into himself as she had.

Head rolling back and throat bobbing as she jumped softly away at him, almost out of instinct.

Was he feeling how she felt?

There was no way he wanted her like she wanted him? Yet it seemed that way. She gazed upon a perfect mirror image of herself in the throes of passion.

And she was…elated.

A sick tingle worked its way up her spine as she wondered, truly, how similar their attraction was.

What noises could she pull from him?

She quickly found out as her pace increased around his length and a deep groan left his chest.

Evelyn paused.

She did that…

An almost predatory grin split her face whilst her hand continued before being halted by the bucking of his hips and a desperate, shameful whimper tumbled from his lips.

“E-Evelyn…please” Ominis begged, his stomach clenching almost doubling over as he pulled himself from her grasp.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, almost embarrassed. She thought she was doing well…for a complete novice.

“No you’re…” he shuddered and bought himself back down to her level, nuzzling into her neck “…you’re perfect. Perhaps too perfect” he laughed against her neck, teething at the skin along her collarbone.

Though the intimacy had taken several steps back, it somehow felt more heated.

Not a moment before she held him gently between her hands, the evidence of her own arousal glistening on his flushed face…

…now he just gently nibbled on her neck.

But something about that alone made her arch and moan into him, earning those same noises from Ominis.

His hips flexed and she felt the twitching and, somehow, harder length rub against her lower stomach. Her soft yet lustful moans were sending his body into overdrive. It was becoming an increasingly difficult task to stop himself losing it and rutting against her as hard as he could. Out of pure primal instinct, she lifted her legs and knotted them around his waist, his member falling to brush softly against her folds.

They both gasped, Ominis pulling back to gaze sightlessly down at her.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his brows furrowing, forehead crinkling with concern.

Evelyn struggled to hear him over her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears.

“Yes…” she breathed, tilting her hips down towards the twitching arousal at her core.

Ominis sighed, his warm breath fanning over her face. He rocked to the side slightly, leaning his weight on one arm, his other disappearing below. Evelyn watched until his hand was between them, following the cascading moles on his body, the flexing of his muscles and tendons underneath ivory skin. She followed the movements of him looming over her until she reached his eyes, staring off to her right somewhere…

…and they still carried that same concern. That same worry.

As though he could sense her curious eyes trying to read him like a book, he laughed nervously and bit his lip.

“You may need to…guide me” he murmured, voice heavy with something she couldn’t quite identify. Shame? Anxiety? Embarrassment?

He’s feeling the same as I am

As though that wasn’t clear from the shaking of his hands.

Evelyn bit the inside of her lip, suppressing the relieved smile that threatened to expose her. Her hands snaked up to cup his face, his eyes immediately fluttering closed at the comforting gesture.

“Of course…” she whispered before she felt the dull poke of his arousal at her core. Her breath caught on the lump in her throat, his tip swiping up between her wet folds.

Even that, and that alone, made a gruff grumble vibrated through Ominis. And again a sick thrill shot up her spine.

I haven’t even done anything and-

“There!” Evelyn squeaked, immediately humbled as he pulled himself back down to her core.

“Ready?” Ominis asked a final time, as her shallow breathes became faster. She nodded and he simply laughed, despite himself… “You need to talk, love. I don’t know what that rustling of hair means”

“Sorry…yes…I’m ready…” she breathed so quietly even his ears had to strain to hear.

“Okay” he pressed his lips to her forehead before pushing his hips forward.

…

It was like…the worst cramp she had ever experienced.

And it somehow travelled up her spine and down each limb.

She arched her back silently, almost to retreat away from the ache, only to push him further inside with a high pitched yelp.

And Ominis felt guilty immediately.

Because she was so warm. And so wet. And so welcoming. Even with her nails digging into the sides of his head.

It took all of his willpower to halt, cease his movements and feel more of her silken walls.

“Are you okay?” He croaked, all of his energy going into stopping himself from driving into her deeper. Torture in its finest form.

She didn’t respond.

But he could hear, actually hear each individual heartbeat that hammered against her ribs. And it was fast. Scarily…fast…

“Evelyn?” He said almost sternly, all traces of the previous restraint gone, replaced with immeasurable worry. His hand darted to the side of her face, trying to feel for any indication of her wellbeing.

“I’m fine…” she muttered cautiously, her back relaxing against the mattress.

The steadying breaths she inhaled through her nose and out through her mouth allowed her time for her body to adjust. And though the initial snap was sharp and painful, she could now feel herself moulding and conforming to him.

And he felt…almost good.

She opened her eyes, a few tears trickling down the side of her face and looked up at him.

And giggled.

And her walls clamped around him impossibly tighter.

So whilst she was giggling and relishing in the moment, Ominis struggled. Which only made her giggle more, his face contorting with pleasure as she did.

“T-that’s not fair” he panted, his sharp cheekbones turning a pretty pink.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered through barely suppressed laughter.

“You’re okay though, yes?” He asked with increased panic as the tears that leaked from her reached his hand.

“Right now…here in this moment, with you…I’m perfect” she reassured, her thumbs running across his cheeks.

Ominis froze, his features melting to a soft and gentle smile. A smile reserved only for her.

“You’re always perfect…” he murmured, lowering his body down to hers and nuzzling into her neck. His lips danced over her skin softly, earning himself a pleased little hum from her throat. Just the noise itself made his cock twitch inside her and that ‘pleased little hum’ morphed into a sinful whimper.

Which he revelled in…drank it all in, committed it all to memory.

Memorising every noise she made, every whimper and moan and delicious breath that he caused her to choke on.

Noting every touch of her skin and every point of contact. Her soft breasts heaving against his own hard chest. The bones of her pelvis that dug into his every time he pushed into her.

Her soft delicate hands that dropped from his face to his shoulders and dropped further as his pace quickened.

The scorching lines her nails left on his back with each slow, sensual thrust into her.

And he could feel his resolve breaking.

Feel himself drowning in her.

And quickly at that.

Which he expected. Sebastian had told him, he wouldn’t last long.

But now that he was in it, he yearned for more.

So his pace quickened further. His length plunged deeper. Hips slamming harder.

He wanted to feel more. Feel all of her. Couldn’t get enough of her. And with time working against him…he’d have to make the most of it.

Evelyn, was simply happy the pain hadn’t lasted long. And now she could fully experience him with none of the negatives.

And there were no negatives.

He seemed to fill her completely, in a way she didn’t know was possible. An image of his swollen member flashed across her eyelids and she was impressed she was managing to take it.

With every grind of his hips, she felt her core throb. It was a pleasant ache, like the soreness of your jaw after eating too many sweets. And she could feel herself coming undone.

“E-Eve…” Ominis panted, dampening the skin of her neck.

No…just a little longer

She could hear his groans turning softer and his hips stuttering.

And with presumably very little time to discuss it, she forced her hand in between them and quickly ran her fingers over her sensitive and throbbing nub.

The knot in her stomach loosened incredibly quickly, the combination of his girth and her quick little fingers filling her with an untold level of pleasure.

And unlike normally when she reached her climax she couldn’t feel herself clench and tighten.

But he did.

He felt her pulse and tremble around him. Felt her tighten and her back arch and her loud moan that seemed to vibrate through him. She seemed to pull him deeper, an uncontrollably and irregular contraction that consumed him.

And with a guttural rasp, he found his own release, his arm looping around her raised waist and squeezing her tighter.

Whereas, Evelyn did the opposite. Her arms fell limply back to mattress as she felt him empty inside her, the pleasant buzz of her climax once again filling her body.

Ominis clung to the feeling, to her, afraid that it may have all been a dream. It felt like a dream.

The woman he loved, beneath him, wanting him.

His mind spiralled, a clarity running through him and filling him with doubt.

And as usual, as though she were expert in Legilimancy, she felt his swing toward the negative and brought her hands around him. Her fingernails traced delicately down the heaving expanse of his back soothing his buzzing mind.

And he hummed, his body finally relaxing and almost drowning her under his weight.

Evelyn simply laughed, a refreshing and light noise that filled Ominis’ chest with warmth.

He could feel her body calming similar to his, though her heart still raced and her skin was still radiant.

“You’re so beautiful like this, all flushed skin and breathless” he mumbled into her neck, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he spoke, his voice a much lower register than normal.

He rolled up onto his elbow, his fingers unwrapping from her waist and travelling to her face.

He was greeted with the soft smile he associated with her. The face he kept stored for her at all times, only she had a glow about her he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

And she took the opportunity to finish the sentence that started all of this.

“I love you” she whispered, leaning into his palm.

“I love you too”

Masterlist

[noire610]

Inspired by @animatedjen's photos

856 words

It had been too long this time.

Of course, it was always too long.

Bode left the ship in the pristine hanger- a dirty, rusty, beat up thing- and rushed past the technicians who would inspect the ship for anything that could be used against the ISB- explosives, trackers, spice, or smuggled people. It used to bother him, used to feel on edge that they would expect that of him. But when it happened every time he went out? He stopped caring. They were nothing to him.

Sturdy, scuffed, dirty boots hastened down the shining corridors of Nova Garon, red henley shirt stark against the whites and blacks of the troopers and officers. He got some looks but they soon disregarded Denvik’s attack dog kept on a tight leash. He was nothing to them. He wondered how many knew what he was.

Thoughts of the Imperials fell away as he opened his door and wasted no time in scooping his daughter up from where she had been sitting at the stark white table, her crayons a splash of color in the room. 

“Papa!” She cried out, squirming a little. “Papa I was coloring!”

“Give Papa a moment,” he mumbled as he held her close, hand on her head as he pressed his own against it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He was a bad man, he knew that. He had traded everything to work for the Empire. To work for the people who destroyed the Order, who killed his wife. But they would keep Kata safe. That was all that mattered. He didn’t care about his own wellbeing so long as hers would be safe. As long as she was safe he could keep going on those Force-awful missions of killing what remained of his people.

The hilt of the pick felt like solid durasteel in its hidden holster.

He eventually set Kata down and walked with her to see what she was drawing. There were vague shapes of what could have been a person, but a mistake had been made and scribbled out, then she had just colored in random spots. 

He was about to make a comment on it when he got a blip on his communicator. He knew immediately who it was. “Denvik,” he said in a flat tone as he picked it up.

“You seem to have forgotten the order of things here, Akuna. Report immediately for your mission debrief.”

A heavy sigh left Bode and he ran a hand through Kata’s hair. “I'm sorry, little Star,” he said softly, “I have to go.”

“I don't like him,” Kata said bluntly, looking up with a pout.

He couldn't help his light chuckle. “Neither do I, little Star.” He bent down to kiss her head before he left the room.

He didn't notice any Imp in the base. While he worked for the Empire he wasn't an Imperial.

Right?

The debrief was anything but. The ISB commander knew Bode was eager to return to his precious few moments with Kata between missions and he seemed to be taking enjoyment in drawing out the meeting. Bode could feel his patience wearing thin with each asinine question, each gesture for explanation. 

It must have been intentional, the way Denvik continued to demand more. The way that slight smirk grew in time with Bode’s irritation. But like a good dog, Bode obeyed, reporting every fucking detail he could remember when prompted.

It was the base’s night cycle by the time the meeting had finished, and Bode wanted to drink a bottle of Corellian whiskey and drink until he forgot the bed he had made for himself. Instead he hastened back to his room and his daughter.

He opened the door quietly and tiptoed into the darkened room. He didn't see Kata, was she in bed?

No, she was asleep on the sofa. He smiled gently and picked her up, the child shifting in his arms before she was comfortable, curled against his shoulder with her head nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

He could take her to bed. He should. But he had missed her so much his heart ached and he knew he wouldn't have long before Denvik called him away to hunt down another Jedi. So instead he just walked around the room, carrying her, before stopping in front of the last image he had of himself smiling. He couldn’t even remember the occasion- probably just a moment of levity- but it was one of the few images he had of Tayala. They had kept themselves fairly obscure in their brief marriage, with little record of their appearances anywhere.

He sighed softly as he turned from the image, carrying the sleeping Kata to her room. He opened the door with an elbow press on the button. He laid her in bed and removed her shoes, tucking Mookie against her, and brushed her hair back from her face. “Goodnight, my little Star. I love you.” He kissed her head then left the room, feeling weary to the bone.

Tomorrow he’d be sent off again, leaving his precious daughter behind once more.

[djsakura]

Finally finished my ancients designs !!

A bit of rambling under cut :3 --v

Ok so I know some people are gonna be mad at me for making dark cacao short but. Hear me out: it canonically takes 3 average cookies to lift his sword and bro can hold it w one hand,, also the dark cacao people live in the mountains so I made them dwarves with short, stocky bodies so they conserve heat better and are very physically strong

So to me it's takes at least 2 dark cacao(ians?) To lift cacao's sword but probably like, five average cookies (probably like. Up to 10 faeries lmao they're so smol)

Golden cheese is small but not necessarily short (she's actually tall for avians) but she needs to be small and light so she can fly- also she has prosthetic wings but you can't tell in the drawing (cus yknow. Burning spice wanted to make chicken wings ig) also speaking of burning spice, he's the tallest beast so golden is TINY compared to him lmao

Pure vanilla i made a firefly bc i imagine the vanilla kingdom is made of flying creatures bc its in the sky- pv also has wings but you can't see them 😔 (in my hc, custard cookie III is his great-grandson- cc has tiny antenna but no wings) and yes, pv glows :]

For hollyberrians, I imagine that wherever they live used to be the home of a bunch of full dragons, but over time they slowly disappeared and more cookie-like dragons appeared, eventually evolving into the hollyberry kingdom. Hollyberry doesn't have wings but does have the bone structure to have them, just none grew out (but most don't. Its actually a rare instance that hollyberrians grow wings) but she does have horns- its usually only the royal family that grow horns

Most have tails and long ears- its common if you go to the hollyberry kingdom that you'll find clothing in shops with holes cut out for tails lol

And lastly, white lily :) she's the tallest but also really thin- like snap like a twig thin. She's a deer satyr and kinda faerie-adjacent, and moss and flowers grow on her horns. When she was dark enchantress, de used magic to change her appearance to be less deer and more goat-like bc fawns "aren't scary enough"

De is also a bit taller than lily, but not bc she grew- she just holds herself taller and stands up straighter lol. I don't know if white lily has any canon relatives but they're also probably fawns/satyrs

But I imagine the faeries are kinda bug-like (inspired by this post), maybe descendents of the vanilla kingdom in some way? Or the other way around idk. Lily becomes queen after elder faerie passes and grows wings but they aren't big enough to fly, mostly just for show (golden cheese is jealous but they hurt like hell)

Anyway yah. Thank you for coming to my ted talk :3

[iliketangerines]

age gap

a/n: hmmmmm...i need more ronal in my life @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare

pairing: ronal x gn!metkayina!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussyeating, slight dom/sub dynamic, milf ronal bc i said so

you stare at Ronal across the beach, turning your head away quickly when she lifts her head up and turns her head in your direction

she was beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, much older than you, mated to Tonowari and a mother to Ao’nung and Tsireya

you had seen firsthand how she and Tonowari doted on their children, making sure that Ao’nung made it to his lessons on time and that little Tsireya, no higher than your hip, made it to her playdates

and then, you saw how they looked at each other, speaking with no more than a glance, and yet they moved in perfect synchronization

not to mention, you were ages younger than them, your parents had been friends with them when they were kids, and you had only just entered adulthood a few months ago

you stood no chance with the tsahik or with the olo’eyktan of the Metkayina, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t admire her from a distance

drawing your net back, you throw it out into the sea and let it sink to the floor before pulling it back up to see if you’ve caught any fish

luckily enough, you find a few and pluck out the rocks and fish that were inedible and throw them back into the sea before turning around to put the remaining fish into your basket

you nearly fall backwards when you see Ronal standing there, only a little taller than you, and she’s holding a shallow basket full of herbs for her medicine

quickly, you greet her and bow your head, and she squints her eyes at you and asks what you were doing staring at her

her words send a chill down your spine, and you pin your ears back, tail twitching in nervousness, as you let out a strained laugh

no excuse comes to mind, and you flounder like a fish out of the water as you try and find an excuse, growing warmer and warmer as she stands there staring at you

with no reason, you turn around and dive into the water, swimming away from her, and you swim until you reach the other side of the island to your hiding place

it’s just a small cove away from the rest of the tribe, but it was quiet and it was yours

you lift yourself up onto the mossy surface and groan, burying your face in your hands at what you had just done

you just swam away, from the tsahik, your crush, after she had asked you a question and you had failed to answer

this was the most embarrassing moment in your life, but unfortunately, you can’t hide away forever in this cove

you’d have to go back eventually to bring the fish over to the cooks and then help cook before having dinner with your family

for now though, you could take a few moments in the chilled cave to avoid her and then make up an excuse in case she does try and confront you

the sun has started to set when you arrive back at the island, and your basket full of fish is still where you had left it thankfully enough

taking a whiff of the fish, it seems like they haven’t gone bad quite yet, and you pick up the basket into your arms and hurry back to the campfires

you hand over your catch to the cooks and take your basket back to your marui pod, greeting your family quickly before heading back to the fires to help roast the fish

you turn them on the spit, making sure none of them burnt or were undercooked, and you sprinkle spices about the food and cut and clean and gut

the time flies by quick enough and soon enough, it’s time to eat, and you help yourself to a nice serving and walk back to the place your family usually sits

as you take a bite from the fish, you nearly fall over over your own feet when you see Ronal talking to your family, and then you want to run away when your sa’nok points to you and the tsahik turns around

Ronal bows her head to your sa’nok and walks to you, blinking at you and telling you to walk with her, and you cast a nervous glance to your family before hurriedly following after the tsahik

she walks at a slow pace into the forest, never speaking a word, and you don’t dare to speak first, keeping your gaze facing downward and focusing on the sand that turns to grass and dirt

soon, the both of you reach a tree, and she asks you to climb up the branches and grab a fruit for her, handing you a small woven bag to store the fruits

you nod and climb up the tree, picking the fruit from the highest branches and softly placing them into your bag before heading back down

Ronal has sat down on a nearby rock, watching as you climb down and hand her the bag, and she gestures for you to sit down next to her while pulling out one of the fruits

she peels it, revealing its sweet flesh and hands it to you, and you take it, slightly sniffing it first, inhaling in the scent of something sweet

you bite into it, letting the juices run down your fingers and your chin, and you hum at the taste, looking back up at Ronal who watches with a serious face, eyes focused on you entirely

nervously taking another bite of the fruit, you finish off the rest of it and lick the juices off your fingers, and Ronal finally talks, asking if you knew why she brought you here

you look off to the side and and spit out the excuse you had made up earlier on why you had to leave so suddenly, and Ronal sighs and says she didn’t bring you out here for that reason

feeling a nervous tendril grip onto your stomach, you stay silent and wait for her to explain, and she leans forward towards you, tilting your chin up to properly look into her eyes

her eyes scan your face, and she pulls back and says that she and Tonowari know that you like her and him

you sputter and try to stand up, short circuiting when she grabs onto the back of your neck to make you sit back down, and she hisses at you to listen

Ronal hums as you listen to her order, and she lets go of your neck and says that she and Tonowari have also had an eye on you: hardworking, intelligent, loyal, obedient

you warm at the final word, feeling a heat pool in the bottom of your gut, and you squeeze your thighs together and continue to listen to her

she tilts your chin up and says that if you would like, she and Tonowari would like to have you as their own, but unfortunately, Tonowari had too many duties to tend to tonight so it was just her

your mouth hangs open as you stare at her, and she quirks her brow up as she awaits your answer

finally, you nod your head, and she tells you to use your words, making you answer in a wobbly voice that you want to be a part of their family

she smiles at you, leaning in closer until she finally presses her lips to yours, and you whimper at the contact, putting a hand on her shoulder instinctively

Ronal smiles against your lips as she kisses you, and you try to copy her movements, eyelashes fluttering close as you lose yourself in her touch

her hand come up to grab onto your waist, and you jump at the feeling as her hands slightly squeeze at the flesh

you lean back further and further until you're laying flat on your back, and she moves one of her arms to rest her forearm on the rock to keep kissing you

finally, Ronal pulls away to look at you, and you’re too dazed to think, mind still spinning from the fact that Ronal and Tonowari liked you enough to be apart of their family

you’re jolted from your thoughts when she slips her thumb past your parted lips, and you instinctively place your tongue flat on the pad of the finger and suck gently

she purrs at you, saying that you were already so good, and you whine at her words, one hand coming up to hold onto her wrist as you suck on her thumb

you stay in this position for quite a while, but you don’t mind, letting a sort of haze fill your head as she watches you with a careful eye

pulling her thumb from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips to her thumb, she hums at the sight and settles back on her perch, spreading her legs wide and telling you to show her what you could do

there’s no hesitation as you get up off the rock and fall to your knees onto the soft grassy ground, nuzzling at the inside of her thigh with your cheek

you bring your fingers up to undo the knots of her tewng, and you lick your lips at the sight of her glistening folds before looking back up at her

your voice is quiet and meek as you say that you’ve never done this before, and Ronal laughs and says that she knows and that she’ll guide you

she adds a comment on flippantly that Tonowari will be able to show you personally how he does it, and you nod dumbly at her

nervousness curdles in your stomach as you lean in a bit closer, still anxious about the whole situation and your skills

you’re young and inexperienced, never having been too adventurous like your friends and going off to have a quick rendezvous with each other

of course, you’ve touched yourself, but this was a different person, someone older and clearly much more experienced than you

you look up at her with wide eyes, and she tells you to go one, she’ll help lead you through the experience

her hand nestles itself into your curly hair, and she brings your face closer to her and tells you to pleasure her and to see what she’s working with

you nod and brings your mouth closer, wrapping your lips around her clit and slowly sucking on it, and she sighs at the feeling, pulling your head closer into her

taking it as a good sign, you suckle on her clit, using your tongue to occasionally move it back and forth, and she lets out a breathy moan, telling you to keep doing that

you oblige happily, using your tongue to flick her clit back and forth, and you moan into her as you bring your own fingers down to pleasure yourself

grinding on your own fingers, you nearly lose focus on the task before you when Ronal tugs at your hair and tells you to focus, and you whine and nod, going back to her

your tongue presses flat against the sensitive nub, lapping at it desperately, and she groans at the feeling, encouraging you to keep going

you pant into her pussy as you close your eyes and let her guide your head and grind her hips into her face

her moans are sweet and low, almost raspy as she pulls your head further and further into her pussy

it’s making your head spin with pleasure as you listen to her moans and her praise at how well you’re doing, and you whine as she moans loudly, cumming on your face

her cum drips down your chin, and you move your mouth down to taste her and bury yourself in further

it’s sweet, delicious, tastes just like her, and you lap at her juices, needy for more when she pulls your head away from her pussy

whining that you want more, she smiles at you and tells you to look back, and you slowly turn around and find Tonowari standing there

he says in a low voice that he found someone to take care of the kids for the night and that he was here now to take care of the both of you

dropping to his knees, Ronal lifts you into her arms in a show of strength you didn’t know she had and spreads your thighs over her own, and you realize that tonight through the haze in your head that you would be here at least until the moon rose high into the sky

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Hair Care" - BurningCheese Short #6

I promised a "Burning Spice is snuck into the Golden Cheese Kingdom" story, and I've come to deliver. I also promised wholesomeness, which... I mean, I hope it comes across that way. These two have their own brand of "wholesome", I think lol.

Special shout-out to @cheesecakemermaid1048 for coming up with the original concept of "bonding w/ Burning Spice via brushing his hair" (although I did go an extra mile in my interpretation here lol). Thanks so much again for letting me use this as a writing prompt! I hope you enjoy it especially!

"Grrrr..."

"I already told you that giving me attitude won't change anything, Burning Spice."

"Would razing your palace to the ground change anything?"

"Leave behind even a single scratch on a single one of my walls or columns, and I shall impale you with a thousand earthen spears on the spot."

"Do you promise?"

"It's inevitable."

"Even better, then."

Golden Cheese quickly shot him a pointed glare over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the hallway ahead of them. Completely empty, thank goodness; no one traversed this particular one at this hour of the day, she remembered. Or... they didn't tend to. Usually.

... It was a gamble she knows Mozzarella would've taken, had she been in her place. Calling for the palace to be temporarily emptied and closed would have been too easy, too simple. Daring to challenge one's own understanding of time and people's habits was a far greater risk, with a far more satisfying reward. Guaranteed victories are boring, after all.

Mozzarella wasn't there with them then, but Golden Cheese nevertheless found herself smiling and thanking her old friend for inspiring her in such a way.

Burning Spice, meanwhile, was currently the most miserable man on the face of the earth, and has been since Golden Cheese had the nerve to dictate where she would be taking him today (and instead of having their scheduled duel, as well, to add insult to injury). His petulant stomps left charred imprints all throughout the desert sands where they reunited - she demanded he control himself when they made it to her kingdom, so as not to draw attention and to not ruin her precious walkways - and echoed through the glittering halls and corridors as she dragged him along. How they haven't been spotted by any of her countless little subjects until now, he did not know, nor did he really care. He was frustrated enough that he almost preferred them being caught then whatever fresh hell she had in store for him in the rapidly approaching future.

So irritated was he, that he couldn't even bring himself to enjoy the fact that they were holding hands.

She eventually led him through some fancy doorway - past sky blue curtains and an archway and columns decorated with intricate carvings - and waiting for them beyond it was their promised destination: a fairly large and airy room with a great pool at the very center, with gold and white lilies dotting its calm surface and reeds sprouting in its corners. Surrounding it was an array of ornate stone and wooden tables, towel racks, smaller pools and individual baths, as well as beautifully carved shelves that seemed to be stocked with soaps, oils and incense. The afternoon sun shone through a massive hole in the ceiling, bathing much of the room in a warm, bright, golden light.

Burning Spice observed it all with a look of cranky disinterest. "A bath, huh?" His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "If you wanted to see me naked, little bird, all you had to do was ask."

"A spa, Burning Spice," Golden Cheese retorted. "This is the primary room for rest and relaxation here within my palace. My attendants are free to come in and put their minds and bodies at ease while they're on break, or after they've been relieved of their duties. They're also welcome to bring their friends and families, so long as they ask for permission first."

"'Ask for permission?' Pfft." A low chuckle rumbled deep within his throat. "How generous. How... soft. Of you AND them."

"It's civilized. That is what civilized behavior is like, Burning Spice. As we both know you've long since forgotten."

"'Civilized behavior'... heh. You think I care about such a pretentious, meaningless thing?"

"No, and it's evident by your appearance. Moreso than even the sun shining in the sky on a desert morning, in fact."

"Oh, don't pretend you don't enjoy seeing me- huh?!"

She didn't wait for him to finish his flirty diatribe and began dragging him over to one of those little baths, tightening her grip on his hand enough to earn an honest wince. When they reached it, she used her spear to nudge a nearby chair over, then whipped around, grabbed Burning Spice by the shoulders, and forced him down onto it before he could protest.

"Wait here a moment," she told him. "Let me go grab what we need."

"Who's 'we'?" he called after her indignantly as she walked off. No use; she moved along as if he'd never spoken in the first place.

To tide himself over and pass the time - that one minute that bore the weight and ache of an eternity - he made a game of letting his eyes go back and forth between scanning the room more closely and drinking in the sight of Golden Cheese's alluring backside as she gathered supplies from a shelf.

She seemed to sense his enamored gaze right away, though, and bristled accordingly. "Keep your eyes to yourself," she snapped at him without turning around.

"Or else what?" he fired back with a smirk, still raking his eyes up and down her body without remorse. "I'm already being punished, am I not? Now you can punish me with all this nonsense for a REAL reason."

"Clearly you aren't," she said as she made her way back to him, a towel hanging from one arm, and a bottle and hairbrush in each hand, "if you still feel bold enough to behave like this."

"But of course I do. How can I not, with such a pretty bird perched in front of me? Only the blind would ignore such beauty, do you not agree?"

She set the supplies down with a huff, her cheeks flushing pink at his words. "Well then, let's see if you still feel that way after we're done."

His flirtatious smile evaporated as she gathered all of his long, wild hair into her arms and narrowed her eyes at it. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she said, "how do you tolerate this... this mess?"

"By ignoring it," he said flatly. "So long as it isn't cut off, then I don't give a damn what happens to it otherwise."

"Well, I'm not tolerating this barbarism any longer. If you won't do anything about it, then I will."

"I could just get up and sit in the bath myself, you know." That suggestive look made a brief return. "And you could join me, if you wanted."

"I'd sooner join you in Hell," she said.

With that, she tossed his hair into the bath, watching as it floated and waved along the water's clear surface. She reached for the bottle, stowed away underneath the chair for safekeeping; the smell of eucalyptus wafted through the air as she popped it open and poured its contents into the water, turning it a pale green.

"What the hell is that?" Burning Spice asked, making a face as he sniffed at the air.

"Soap, you filthy animal," she snapped. "Shampoo and conditioner mixed into one solution. This particular bottle is from a very high-quality brand that is well-liked in my kingdom. I suggest you act grateful."

"Me, grateful? For what? For you kidnapping me and forcing me to endure a... a spa day that I wouldn't ask for in a million years?"

"Precisely," she said, staring down at him with a confident smile.

...So enchanting did Burning Spice find that smile of hers, that he softened just enough to let her work without further resistance.

She worked slowly but deliberately, the calm focus written on her features and the deft movement of her hands betraying her years of experience. His hair was thick and unkempt, practically an untamed jungle; so desperate for love and care that it almost seemed to seek her out on purpose, jet black tendrils creeping and coiling around her fingers and wrists as soon as her hands touched the water.

"When was the last time you even brushed your hair? These knots are atrocious."

He didn't answer her right away, instead scowling and shifting uncomfortably in his seat as she tugged on the strands closer to his scalp. "What does that matter?" he eventually scoffed. "Fussing over one's appearance is a complete waste of time, anyway."

"One's appearance is a cornerstone of one's overall well-being," she countered. "In my kingdom, cleanliness is seen as a form of godliness. It's all a matter of pride, of confidence, of proper self-esteem. Always look your best, always put your best foot forward, and others will be encouraged to see the best in you."

"You think taking a bath makes you a god? HA! Such foolish arrogance- OW!"

"Oh, stop it," Golden Cheese chided him as she pulled on and unraveled a particularly terrible knot. "To think you'd be such a big baby about something so trivial! If I'd known this while we were still enemies, I would've gone ahead and acted like a baby myself, and spent all of our battles pulling on your hair to make you cry."

He grunted in frustration, staring daggers at her as she freed the last remaining strands from that dreaded knot. She ignored him and continued on undeterred.

When she finished the first lather and rinse, working her way up to the top of his head and back down again, she shook her head. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she sighed. "I'm disappointed in you. Even a brute ought to take proper care of himself. How have you allowed this to stand for so long?"

"Because it doesn't matter to me at all," he muttered. "I'll give you that answer as many times as I need to, to get it through your pretty head."

"Of course it matters," she said, her eyes narrowing in annoyance again. "How can you even say that? Do you not hold yourself in any high esteem at all?"

"No."

She stopped, the wad of hair she'd been tending to now sitting limp in her hands. She looked at him in genuine shock - and he returned her look with one of... not quite anger, no. He was not angry. What she saw on his face, in his eyes, was... resignation, tinged with bitterness.

An awkward silence hung over them both before Golden Cheese cleared her throat. "Well, then," she said slowly, "If you can't be bothered to take care of yourself... then I shall do it for you. Alright?"

He softened again, a glimmer of pleasant surprise shining in his eyes. The silence quickly returned, right after Golden Cheese herself returned to her work... but it felt lighter this time.

Soon enough, she was quietly tapping on his shoulder. He understood what she wanted, no explanation necessary, and he slowly lifted his head up, sitting up straight once again. She gathered his hair in her arms and wrung it all out the best she could, then lifted it out of the bath, letting it fall and cling to his back. The soft pitter-patter of water droplets dripping from rogue strands of hair onto the floor filled their ears.

The silence otherwise persisted as Golden Cheese dried Burning Spice's hair with the towel she'd tucked away beneath the chair. He sat still, arms crossed, and neither said nor did anything to disturb her efforts, much to her continued surprise.

Soon enough, she traded the towel in for the hairbrush and quickly set about combing through those still-unruly locks. "It really is a shame, you know," she murmured. "You have gorgeous hair. You shouldn't treat it so poorly."

"Hmph..." He shrugged. "Whatever."

"I mean it, Burning Spice." She combed through another knot - more carefully than she'd done to the others in the bath, out of a newfound sense of concern for his comfort. "Even animals groom themselves better than you. I know you care enough to at least bathe, but there's more to self-care than just that."

"I bathe. I eat. I sleep. Those things are enough to keep me alive, are they not? I don't need anything else."

"They're enough to survive, yes..." She paused. "But... not to live, I don't think."

"You think bathing makes you a god," he muttered. "Of course you would say that."

She set the hairbrush aside for a moment and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. Instantly - perhaps instinctively - he leaned back, further into her grasp. Silently reveling in her touch.

"Burning Spice..." She sighed softly. "I have long since vanquished you. You're no longer a threat to this world." She hesitated, searching her mind for the right words to say next. "You... you can't hurt anyone anymore. Not on my watch. Perhaps... it's time you included yourself there, as well."

At that, he tensed, but still said nothing. She pulled her hands away (did she sense... disappointment from him when she did so?) and grabbed the hairbrush again, once more returning to grooming the man in front of her. She tried her best to be efficient, but still gentle; combing through each and every lock, more eager than ever to leave them looking better than they did before.

She took longer than she probably should have. (Perhaps she'd started allowing herself to enjoy how... soft and luxurious his hair was.) But even so, when she was finally done, she set the hairbrush down again and circled around to the front.

"There," she said. "What do you think?"

Burning Spice ran a quick hand through his hair and gave her a nod. "More pleasant than before."

"Wonderful." She beamed at him. "I'm glad."

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of that bright, warm smile. It stole all of the light in the room. It outshined the sun itself.

If this was what it took get her to look at him like that, then Burning Spice would gladly let her fuss over his appearance every single day for the rest of his life.

"Now, then..." She clapped her hands together, her eyes now glinting with mischief. "How about we take care of your wardrobe next?"

"My what?!"

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

What GC said about cleanliness was something Ancient Egyptians actually believed. They were very, very fussy about hygiene and legitimately thought that cleanliness was godliness. They didn't have spas or bathhouses or the like, though (not before the Greeks and Romans stopped by), they usually just bathed in the Nile. They used something called natron (it's like a salt mixture you get from dry lake beds, tastes like baking soda) as soap and shampoo. There's your history lesson for the day. You're welcome. I have more if you're interested.

And... well. I'm sure it's common knowledge that depressed people can start really letting themselves go if it gets bad enough. I don't really get the impression that Burning Spice is happy, even with that Joker smile he's got on and how much he enjoys trashing everything... I think all the Beasts are plagued with a certain melancholy, really. They're handling it entirely incorrectly, but even so. (And I think the Ancients can and should be the ones to help them overcome that. They're just the right ones for the job, in my opinion. But that's probably just me trying to bait you all into asking me about my Reformed Beasts AU again lol)

[vogelfreyh]

I always wanted to draw them together with newborn Gereon! (Even if his birth is like 10 years away from where the story currently is) But these two thugs will have him at some point 👀

6 BBY - Gereon was a wish they’d both buried under years of crimes, duty, and survival. After the many years they spent together, they had wanted him, desperately, silently, but a connection like theirs had never promised such a future. Their bond had always defied the odds, but a child? That had felt like asking too much from a galaxy that gave so little.

When Ti’ad first realized she was carrying life - their life - she didn’t know how to speak it aloud. Not from fear, but from disbelief. And when she told Sykho, he had gone still. Like the world had shifted beneath his feet. Because the thought that something of him lived within her, that her body, her blood, had eventually held on to a piece of both of them, was too vast for words.

And when Gereon was born, impossibly small yet fierce with life, they both stared at him as if the galaxy had rewritten its rules just for them. Sykho, who had bled and killed for the Syndicate, had never known reverence until that moment. Ti’ad, who had seen death more often than mercy, held their son like something sacred. He wasn’t just their miracle, he was proof that even in a world as broken as theirs, something pure could be born. (…)

Sykho & Ti‘ad are my Star Wars OCs - (Character sheets | Spice and Ruin)