#ohhh she looks badass

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER TWO: FISTS TO A KNIFE FIGHT

violet; 5,021 words; fluff, drama, brief depiction of violence (vi kicks ass), fake dating, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, powder being hilarious, patching up injuries trope, wlw pining, mel is a badass, platonic gym soulmates jaycevi, no "y/n"

summary: in which both you and vi are suffering about each other, and you friends/fam try to help to varying degrees of success.

a/n: here it is !!! chapter two :) i hope everyone enjoys and that you're having a SMASHING beginning to your 202THRIVE. i truly had the best time writing powder in this chapter and i hope u guys love her just as much as i do u__u

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ "HASN'T IT ONLY BEEN LIKE… three weeks since —”

“Yes Powder, it’s only been three weeks since Cait and I broke up —”

“I mean, for the record, I never liked her —”

“Yes, you made that abundantly clear even when we were dating —”

“She was a stuck-up little horse-shoe crab with a weird obsession with turtlenecks and I mean, that always felt like a red flag to me —”

“Powder. Focus.”

“Oops — sorry,” Powder giggles, “what were you saying again? Something about a hot figure skater girl who’s tryna be your girlfriend?”

Vi sighs, adjusting her phone, propped up against a stack of pillows as she lazes in bed, her cheek pillowed on her crossed arms as she watches Powder fiddle with something or other through the screen.

“Trying to be my fake girlfriend,” Vi corrects.

Powder lifts up her goggles, “Oh, I like this one better already. So? What’s the issue?”

Vi groans, burying her face in her arms, “The issue is that…” she flips onto her back, staring at the faint Christmas lights strung up around her room, the soft diffuse lighting making her pause. She thinks back to the look of you on that kitchen floor, the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed, how your lips had tasted — sweet and intoxicating — against hers.

“I feel like… parts of her remind me of — of Cait.”

“Gee Wilikers, so you've gotta thing for ice queens that make questionable fashion decisions — please sis, this is not news. Not to me, not to Vander, not to the lady down the street who always tries to give us soggy croissants —”

Vi frowns, “What do you mean? And those croissants were just a little buttery —”

“Sweet god — you remember that one chick you were head over heels for when we were kids?”

Vi only frowns harder at the ceiling lights.

“You… mean the one with the long hair and —”

“Yes, the one you said looked like she could ruin your life?”

Vi makes a noncommittal noise, heat washing into her cheeks at the memory.

“I mean,” Vi muses, “she kinda did.”

Powder sighs, “Sis, we were twelve. Whatever. And then there was the basketball captain during your senior year —”

“She was like the hottest chick I’d ever seen up until that point!”

“Uh-huh — she also unironically wore crocs when she wasn’t on the court —”

“Hey, those shoes are comfortable —”

“They’re an affront to fashion and we both know it. But anyway — point being — why’re you acting surprised that you’re once again falling for someone that is A, fantastically talented at a thing, and B probably has mommy-issues up the wazoo?”

Vi swallows, the memory of your laughter ringing through her like church bells on a Sunday morning. She whines, tossing an arm over her eyes.

Powder laughs.

“Ohhh, I know that sound.”

“What sound?” Vi flips back over, squinting at her sister from her cracked phone screen.

Powder smirks, flipping an L-wrench between her fingers before pointing the straight end at Vi.

“The sound of a woman being completely and utterly pussy-whipped.”

Vi squawks, shooting up on her bed, frowning down at her phone.

“I — I am not pussy-whipped!”

Powder shrugs, dropping her eyes back onto her project, “Say what you will, but this is exactly what you sounded like when you first had a crush on that weird, turtleneck-loving mongoose —”

“What is it with you and turtlenecks? And I thought she was a horseshoe-crab? Now she’s a mongoose? They’re not even remotely similar —”

“Evil can come in all shapes and sizes —”

“She’s not evil —”

“Tell that to all her turtlenecks —”

“Okay, no what is it with you and turtlenecks —”

“I dunno! It’s just a vibe-thing, okay?” Powder drops her L-wrench and gestures towards the screen, her eyes wide even as Vi stares, nonplussed as her younger sister motions vaguely into the ether, “Like… what’s she tryna hide behind all those high necklines? And what does she have against the art and perfection that is the human collarbone — I mean —”

Vi nearly throws her phone across the room. She settles for screaming into her pillow instead.

Powder laughs, dusting off her hands and shrugging.

“All I’m saying is — this new girl, whoever she is — sounds like a better deal already.”

“How could you possibly know that? You know nothing about her.”

Powder hitches an eyebrow, “I know that she pretended to be your new girlfriend in front of horseshoe-crab-mongoose and her new button-cap mushroom of a sidepiece.”

“Button-cap — sidep— what the fuck —?”

Powder waggles her fingers, “Evil in all shapes, remember?”

Vi lets out another exasperated groan, “This was pointless —”

“It wasn’t! You just have to take her out on a date!”

“What?”

“You. Take skater-girl. On a date.”

Vi stares.

“B-but I can’t do that.”

“And… why not?” Powder tilts her head so far to the right she’s almost at 90-degrees with the camera.

Vi huffs out a breath, “Cause… the whole campus thinks we’re actually dating. So it’d be weird —”

“For you to take your fake girlfriend on a real date?”

“Exactly!” A pause. “Wait —”

Powder cackles, waving her hand.

“Lemme know how the date goes, sis! Oh! And try not fuck this one up, yeah? Wouldn’t want the whole campus to know that you fumbled an Olympic athlete, hm? Kay, love ya, bye!”

The Facetime call drops, and Vi’s left staring at a too-close image of her own bewildered face, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. She blinks at her own reflection for a few more seconds before the screen fades to black and she’s left with nothing but the silence of her own room to keep her company.

She slumps back against the wall, kneading her eyes with the heels of her hands as she runs over Powder’s words.

Take your fake girlfriend on a real date.

But she can’t quite tamp down the strange giddiness that rises beneath her ribs at the thought.

She almost jumps out of her skin as her phone lights up again and she scrabbles at it, flicking it open only to see a single line of text from Jayce —

mel wants to talk.

“I don’t want to waste anyone’s time here so —” Mel laces her fingers on the cafeteria table, looking down the bridge of button nose as if she were interviewing a candidate for a consulate seat, not tucked into a far corner of the dining commons on a busy Thursday night.

Vi blinks, “Wow, not one for smalltalk, huh? And here I was hoping that we could chat about the weather or something.”

She glances at Jayce, who only throws her a helpless sort of shrug.

Mel ignores them both, her eyes sharp as she looks Vi over.

“What are your intentions with my friend?”

Vi’s eyebrows shoot up as she sputters, “M-my intentions?” Her gaze slingshots over to Jayce once more, and this time, he has the decency to look just a bit sheepish.

Mel’s cocks her head, clearly waiting. Vi sputters.

“W-what d’you — your friend was the one that came onto me —”

“She saved you from what looked like a terribly uncomfortable conversation with your ex,” Mel says, her tone so smooth and certain that for a second, Vi pauses to wonder if she might actually be able to simply speak things into existence with nothing but her conviction in her own words.

“She announced to nearly the whole school that we were dating!”

Mel sighs, “Yes, which is why I’m asking you — what are your intentions with her?”

Vi stares, heat now beginning to eat up the back of her neck ,”Well up until that happened, I didn’t have any intentions with her —”

“So now you do?” Mel’s voice is sharp.

Vi groans, throwing up her hands, “What? No! I mean —” she runs a hand through her hair, “I don’t know!”

Jayce leans forward, “Look, Vi — what Mel’s trying to say is —”

“I’ve never seen her like this before.”

Vi goes still. Jayce sighs.

“What… do you mean?”

Mel lets out a long breath, and for the first time, her flawless exterior cracks ever so slightly as she leans back, folding her arms across her chest.

“Ever since that party, she’s been… distracted. And her routine’s suffering because of it —”

Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “You’re raking me over the coals because her little figure skating routine isn’t going well? Alright, I’m outta here —”

Vi tries to stand up, but Mel’s hand shoots out, quick as a flash, and when she catches Vi’s wrist, her grip is startlingly strong. Vi grunts, her arm jerking back as she glares at Mel.

“You don’t understand,” Mel says, and there’s a quiver like a hairline fracture in the low thrum of her voice that makes Vi pause, “She’s… she’s not as strong as people think she is —”

Vi scoffs, “Not sure that’s the word I’d use but —”

Mel shakes her head, “I know what people say about her, that she’s frigid — the ice princess, right? But I’ve known her since we were kids — she’s not like that.”

Mel’s voice softens, and Vi sinks back into her seat, watching as Mel pulls back her hand.

“She’s just… passionate and a bit naive —”

“Tch, really.” Vi rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the grin that threatens her lips at the memory of you, admitting to her on the kitchen floor of the party that you’re ‘not the best with impulsivity’, the soft noise you’d made at the back of your throat when she’d kissed you, how soft your skin had been beneath the hem of that wet dream of a dress —

“— this sport’s been her whole life,” Mel says, fixing Vi with an imploring look, “and whatever you did or didn’t say or do to her at that party… it’s got her in her head. And she’s not the type to fall in love easily —”

“Whoa, whoa, it was one kiss —” Vi balks at the word ‘love’ but Mel only pushes on, her voice once more taking on it’s lacquer-like shine, her eyes dark as a moonless night —

“I’m just asking you to please think about what you want out of this because…” she lets out a breath, leaning back once more, “it might’ve been just one kiss to you. But it sure as hell wasn’t just that for her.”

This is starting to get ridiculous, you think, for the fourth night in a row, sitting up in bed and glancing at the small LED clock currently blinking 12:38AM at you in a traitorous red light. You groan, scraping your nails against your scalp as you slump back into your blankets.

Moonlight pools cool and silver over your sheets, slit into slivers by the half-closed blinds.

You take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, but seven minutes later, you’re jerking back the covers to rummage around for a pair of running shorts and a sweater.

Ten minutes after that, you set off on your normal jogging route, one earbud thumping an upbeat EDM song as you let your thoughts wander. It’d been one week since the sorority party and the kiss in the kitchen. One week since Vi had nearly run out of that kitchen, looking as if she were about to be sick.

Your stomach churns. Were you really that terrible at kissing? It didn’t seem like she was having a bad time — warmth coils in the pit of your belly even as you try desperately to tamp down the electric tingle of desire that shoots up your spine every time you let your mind wander near the memory.

It’d been one hell of a kiss. But what you remembered most was the way Vi’s expression had broken open with laughter as she’d sat next to you, calling you princess, telling you that she was impressed. How bewildered she’d looked the second before you kissed her, how she’d moaned low and long when you ran your tongue across her lips. How she’d opened her mouth and let you in.

“Oh shit —” your foot catches on a small crack in the pavement and you stumble forward a few steps, catching yourself before you actually hit the ground.

“You alright there, darlin’?” a slimy voice calls from somewhere behind you, and you whip around to find a group of three men sauntering towards you, cigarette butts and empty beer cans scattered around their feet as they push up from the stoop they’d been loitering on.

“Uh yeah — fine. Thanks,” you say, taking a few steps back, quickly taking stock of your surroundings. It’s only a few minutes passed 1AM on a Saturday night, but the street you’re on is quiet, a small by-way between two residential neighborhoods, the row of houses to your right look foreclosured, their windows dark and boarded up, the low hedges in front of them overgrown and ill-watered.

“You sure? Don’t need a hand with nothin’?” Another one of the men asks, smirking as they advance on you, looking you up and down, their gazes nothing short of salacious. The third man chuckles, pulling a tiny switchblade out of his pocket.

“C’mon, dollface,” the first one says, opening his hands, “wanna keep us company for a little while? Promise we’ll show you a good time.”

Ice seizes your veins as you try to calculate how long it’d take for you to sprint to the nearest house that might have someone living in it. You stumble back half a step, ready to take off when a smear of red flashes by you and a sharp crunch sounds before one of the guys is skidding across the pavement, knocked out cold.

“The fuck —” the second man gapes at the red-hooded figure for a breath before he dives for them. But the figure’s too quick, ducking under his arm and catching him with a solid punch to the stomach that sends him reeling.

But as they pull back, the red hood slips off to reveal a shock of bright pink hair.

“V-Vi?!”

You squeak, jumping back as she turns towards the third guy, his face split in a nasty snarl, the switchblade glinting dangerously in his hand. Vi eyes the blade in his hand for a second before smirking, cocking her head.

“C’mon big guy — you wanna see how that ends?”

The man hesitates for half a second before yelling and swinging wide, but Vi’s fist connects with his jaw and he tips backwards, just as one of his friends is staggering back onto his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wild as he dives for Vi from behind.

You scream.

“Vi! Lookout!”

Vi’s elbow jerks back just in time to catch him in the chest, but he still manages to skim his fist along Vi’s cheek, and the impact jerks her head back. You let out another abortive shout as the knife-wielding man manages to catch Vi around the middle, grappling her even as she kicks out, her foot catching his friend on the chin and sending him to the ground again.

You look around frantically, eyes catching on a broken tree branch caught in one of the rusting fences — you scramble over and pull it free, heaving the surprisingly heavy branch behind you and swinging your whole body weight into it as you bring it crunching down onto switchblade’s calf.

He lets out a shout of pain, dropping to one knee, his grip loosening just enough for Vi to jerk her head back, butting him in the chin with her skull.

Dark red blood spills from his lips as Vi rips out of his arms and grabs for your hand.

You drop the branch and let Vi tug you behind her, the pair of you sprinting off till you reach the nearest through-street, the baseline thrum of car engines a welcome relief from the eerie quiet.

“What the hell were you doing out here so late?” Vi asks, rounding on you, even as her own chest heaves with the exertion.

You straighten up, pressing a palm to your stomach to stem the stitch twisting in your side.

“I — I was on a jog!”

“At —” Vi checks her phone, “1:17 in the morning?!”

You scowl, “I couldn’t sleep so I was trying to clear my head!”

“You know there are treadmills in our gym right? The gym that’s open twenty-four hours —”

“It’s not the same! And —” you cut off abruptly, slamming your mouth shut, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

“And what? God, holy shit — what were you gonna do if I didn’t show up?”

You crinkle your nose, sidestepping the question with, “What were you doing out so late, then?”

Vi blinks for a second before straightening up with a sigh.

“Doing the same thing you were.”

You throw up your hands, “Why’re you allowed to go running around at night, but I’m not?”

“Because I know how to lay a guy out when he tries to get fresh! Clearly, a skillset you don’t seem to share!”

“I could’ve outrun them…” you mumble, tugging at your sleeves.

Vi scoffs, “Right, and if you couldn’t?”

But your eyes catch on a cut along her eyebrow, the bruise blooming dark on her left cheek. You reach out a hand; she catches your wrist before you can touch her face, her expression guarded.

“You’re bleeding.”

Her grip loosens but she still shrugs you off, “It’s nothing.”

You frown, shaking your head. When she relaxes her fingers, you twist your hand around to catch her wrist instead.

“C’mon.”

“Uh… where’re we going?”

You lead her down the street, pausing at a crosswalk to look both ways even though the street itself is very much deserted.

“My place.”

Vi lets out a soft laugh, “Geez, princess. Are all you figure skaters this forward? Y’know usually, you’d take a girl out on a date first before inviting her home.”

You shoot her a nasty look over your shoulder.

“We’re already ‘dating’, remember?”

Vi’s smirk drops from her face, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. And by the time you reach the front of your building, she’s at a level with you, her arm hanging limp in your grip. You cast her a sidelong glance before dropping her hand and rummaging around for your keys.

“Hm. Nice place,” she says, looking around as you push into your apartment, tossing your keys in a turtle-shaped bowl by the door and toeing off your shoes. “Bit far from campus though, no?”

You head for the bathroom, flicking on the lights as you go.

“Yeah, but it’s closer to the rink — aha!” you pull out the first aid kit under the bathroom sink and make your way back into the small living room to find Vi standing awkwardly by the door. You jerk your head towards the couch.

“Sit.”

Vi sighs, eyeing the room over once more before kicking off her shoes and slumping down on the couch. You perch yourself in front of her, leaning in to check on the thin slash on her forehead.

“It’s not very deep but… I’m still gonna need to wipe it first.”

“Do your worst, princess.”

You roll your eyes, tearing open an antiseptic wipe with your teeth and reaching up to dab gingerly at the cut. Vi winces dramatically, chuckling when you give her another glare.

“So…” Vi says, in a bracing attempt to fill the thickening silence.

Your brow creases as you continue to wipe down the cut, flipping the wipe over to the clean side.

“Heard you’re training for the Olys… that’s… impressive.”

You sigh, putting down the now stained alcohol wipe and digging around for some neosporin.

“I have to qualify first.”

“Yeah? And what’s that look like?”

“Well… the quickest way to do that is to just be the best figure skater in the entire country.”

Vi lets out an incredulous laugh, “Oh yeah. It’s that simple, huh?”

You fix her with a look as you squeeze a tiny dollop of neosporin onto your finger.

“It is. But simple doesn’t mean it’s easy — hold still.”

You gingerly drag your finger across the cut, blowing gently before pulling back to tear open a bandaid.

“Barring that though, I basically have to consistently place within the top 3 at all the international competitions I participate in and… hope that the skating union thinks I’m good enough to represent the country.”

You press the bandaid to her forehead, leaning back to assess your work before letting your hand drop.

“Oh,” Vi breathes, watching as you fold the discarded bits of wrapping paper into smaller and smaller squares. “Damn, princess. You really are… good, huh.”

You let out a soft laugh, shrugging, “It’s… kinda the only thing I’ve ever been… good at.” You sigh, reaching into the first aid box for a cold compress, breaking the seal and shaking it in your hand to activate it.

Vi hums as you reach up to press the cold pack to her cheek, her hand catching yours before you can pull away completely. She doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your chest or the way your eyes go wide in the slant-wise light.

“Hm. You seem plenty good at getting yourself into trouble though.”

Her voice is low, husky in a way that catches even herself off guard. But you lick your lips and Vi can’t stop herself from glancing down at the soft pink flash of your tongue.

“Says the girl who bought her fists to a knife-fight,” but there’s no real bite in your voice, and still, your hand is poised beneath hers, pressed to the rapidly cooling pack on her cheek.

Neither of you seem to notice the steadily decreasing space between you, nor the rapid uptick of your pulse, nor the way your knee is somehow slotted between Vi’s legs, her free hand resting against your thigh.

“Where I grew up, a good pair of fists’ll take you much further than any fancy knife-work.”

You’re so close you can taste the heat of her words as they wash across your lips.

“Is this… the part of the night where you tell me you tragic backstory? Y’know, the one that makes you such a good hockey player?” you ask, grinning as Vi scoffs, her hand inching up your thigh till her fingers skim yours. She gives your other hand a squeeze, the one that’s still clutched beneath hers on the cold compress against her cheek.

“We really oughtta do something about that mouth of yours — it’s gonna get you into some real trouble some day.”

You tilt your head slow, your eyes caught on the dangerous curve of Vi’s mouth as you suck in a soft breath, her free hand linking with yours —

“And here I thought I was already in the realest kind of trouble I could find…”

Vi’s thumb skims along the soft pad of your hand and you wince, pain shooting up your arm as you jerk back.

“Ouch —”

“Sorry —”

You both look down and the moment fades from around you like a dissipating breath on a winter morning’s chill. She frowns down at your hand even as you try to tug it free.

“It’s nothing, I just —”

“Hold still,” Vi’s voice is still soft but stern as jerks your hand up to eye level.

A sharp splinter peaks out from the pad of your palm, just beneath your thumb and Vi sighs, dropping the hand holding the compress to her cheek.

“You got tweezers or something?”

You nod mutely, tugging away to grab a pair from your makeup bag and bringing it back.

“Guess I should be thanking you,” Vi says, frowning as she squeezes at the tender skin around the splinter, trying to get to a good angle.

“For what? You’re the one that saved me,” you say, your breath hitching as she nudges against the splinter with her thumb, her wincing as you let out a small whine.

“Shit, sorry — I mean — I would’ve been in trouble if you didn’t take that guy out with the branch — don’t move — I think I got it —”

“I just…” you shrug your free arm, watching as Vi tugs the small shard of wood from your flesh, a bead of blood collecting on your skin.

Vi chuckles, shifting back to flick the splinter from the tweezer head and hand it back to you.

“Just moved without thinking?”

You flush, nodding, rubbing at your hand, glancing anywhere but at Vi’s face.

The quiet gathers around you like smoke, swirling and thick till you can’t stand the weight of it anymore and turn back towards her.

“Look, I’m sorry I pretended to be —”

“Do you wanna go out sometime with —”

The pair of you speak at the same time and you freeze, staring at one another.

“Sorry, what?”

“No, you —” Vi breaks off, swallowing.

You shake your head, “I — you said —”

“Forget what I —”

You frown, “Did you just ask me out on a real date?”

Vi goes pink, pushing her tongue against her cheek as she glares at a blank spot on the wall.

“Not if you’re actually sorry for trying to be my fake —”

“There’s a really cute place off Centre street —”

Vi’s eyebrows hike up, a grin twitching at her lips, “Yeah?”

You purse your lips, heat crawling up your neck and kissing into your cheeks.

“They’ve got boozy cupcakes.”

Vi laughs, “Oh shit, yeah?”

“I’ve… always wanted to go but…”

“So why haven’t you?”

You swallow, the ticking, post-midnight quiet collecting sweet around the pair of you like honey.

“Th-they’re kind of big and — I’ve… I’ve never had anyone to… to share one with.”

“Kinda big, huh?” Vi asks, her voice licentious, her eyebrows waggling.

You give her a tiny shove, “Oh my god — nevermind —”

“Let’s do it.”

You blink, your lashes fluttering as Vi shifts back half an inch, sucking in a breath as if reminding her own lungs of the action of breathing. There’s a berry-stained darkness to her cheeks and a lost, liquid look to her eyes. You wonder if it’s just the dimness of your apartment but when she turns her gaze back onto you, you find yourself arrested in it’s light.

“Okay,” you breathe.

And Vi nods again.

“I’ll uh — text you — wait, do we even have each other’s numbers?”

You shake your head, watching as she digs her phone from her pocket.

“No but I —” you pause as your hand hovers over her proffered phone. Vi frowns.

“You… what?”

You take her phone and quickly punch in your number, hitting the save button and handing the phone back to her.

Vi glances down at your contact before shooting you a quick text.

You jump slightly, biting your lips as you flick open your screen, your cheeks staining a darker and darker shade of red as you flip your screen towards her.

“I might’ve… asked Jayce for your number.”

Vi stares at the saved contact — Violet <3

“Wh —”

“It was so that if anyone came up to me after that party to ask if we were really dating, I could —”

“Pretend to be my fake girlfriend better?” Vi finishes, smirking, even though her stomach flips inside her.

“Yeah… something like that,” you say, snatching your phone back, your eyes downcast.

Vi runs a hand through her hair, fisting it tight enough to sting as she backs towards the door. Her heart is thumping somewhere in the back of her throat, making a truly valiant attempt at leaping from her mouth and all she can think is that she needs to get out of here before she does something that she’s really going to regret.

“So… I should —” she gestures at the door.

“Yeah, it’s late — be careful — do you want me to call you a cab?” You push to your feet even as Vi shakes her head.

“Nah, I’ve — I can jog back — it’s not far —”

“Okay… if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, princess.”

The silence pools at your feet as you take half a step forward, a hand pressed to your chest, the other behind your back. Vi watches, her whole body tingling as she fumbles for her shoes, a heady drunkenness soaking into her skin that might be just her tiredness catching up with her or something else entirely.

“Kay — I’ll see you.”

You put up a hand and wiggle your fingers. Vi clears her throat as she pulls open the door and slips out, bringing the door shut behind her with a long exhale, sagging against it the second it’s closed.

You hiss out a breath, stumbling forward to press your forehead to the cool metal as Vi closes her eyes, her back braced against it on the other side.

You let your lashes flutter shut just as Vi forces hers open, and both of you murmur at the exact same time —

“Well, fuck.”

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[priceseyes]

sgt. athena 'birdie' kallis and capt. john price - commission done by @felrija

enjoy the silence, cod-verse: a masterlist.

-

AHHH!!!! I've been excited about this for a while now, OMG!!!! LOOK AT THEM, MY BADASS BABIES!!! OHHH, they look so wonderful and in loveeeeee!!!! I love the way @felrija, they did an absolutely lovely job at portraying both my COD!OC, athena, as well as the relationship she has with price. GAH! they look so lovely together, I can't thank @felrija enough, seriously.

them, my babies.

[lostsyren]

interesting 🤔

https://x.com/obxinfo/status/1864381797376905325

Gonna use this ask to springboard into the entire interview!!

Ohhh rafesofia Bonnie and Clyde typa beat?? Insane. I don’t think this necessarily means she’d be this badass, femme fatale, crime girl, which most people are assuming. I think what Fiona probably saw in their dynamic was the ride or die kind of relationship– like Sofia is with her mannnn, she doesn’t care about his grisly rumours and murderous ties– she loves him!!!

Oh so the writers really didn’t help her out with the character :/ ugh they should just let Fiona write rafe and Sofia’s scenes because she’s asking the important questions here. And this is just testament to what a great actress Fiona is– throughout the whole interview you can tell how much effort and love she put into Sofia (which made up for the lack of it from the showrunners/wrtiers) and I think that’s the reason sofia is so captivating to me! And her playing across Drew is sooo perfect because he has that same ethos for Rafe’s characterisation.

Flirty, coquettish Sofia rip😞I definitely see this in her scenes in s3– like both Rafe and Sofia were exuding charm and flirtation in the party scene and in the morning after scene. But they depart from that massively in s4. Ig it makes sense– Sofia is just a hookup in s3. It’s like both Rafe and Sofia are play acting different roles (rafe being this playboy, suave guy and Sofia being this playful, teasing flirt). But when their bond grows in s4, where they’re in this committed, long term relationship, they become more honest. Rafe is vulnerable, he asks her for help, for advice, he’s sweet, he’s caring. And Sofia forgoes the fabricated confidence of someone pretending to be a kook. She doesn’t need to flirt, she’s got rafe locked down. Hence her “softheartedness” shines through.

And I think it’s so sad that Fiona clocks the fandom– like if Sofia was this provocative and seductive character she’d get sm more hate. People hate to see a confident woman smh. But I’m happy with the Sofia we got too– I think there’s elements of her playful nature there still, but a soft sadness too (which makes sense cuz she’s with rafe– things were for sure not going to be flirty and fun all the time)

Again ride or die Sofia!!! Like that intense love and protectiveness she has over him conveys this “ferocious” spirit. When she scolds her dad for suggesting betrayal, her sticking by him at the party, calming him down– she defends and encourages him. (Which adds to why his comments about her being a hookup and a pogue cut so deep to her– he didn’t defend her when the time came, he lacked that ferocious protectiveness that she gave him in abundance)

YESSS ive said it before– Sofia loves him unconditionally. It’s pure, it’s sweet. She falls for this fairytale romance. Rafe sweeping her up from her dead end job, letting her into his mansion, showering her with love (we see how physical and touchy they are). And I don’t think it’s in the kind of gold-digger esque way– that because he’s rich she’s acting so loved up. I think she looks past his kook exterior rather than luxuriate in it.

Which leads me to my point that, I think Sofia relates to Rafe, she sees herself in him. Like Fiona says, “she’s someone who is kind of on her own…floating between worlds and not quite fitting in anywhere”. Rafe also first that description. We see him change dramatically and drastically across the seasons, flitting between different boundaries. One second he’s with Barry down at the Cut, then he’s off parading himself on Figure 8. He has a different face for everybody– one for the kooks, one for his family, one for Ward, another for Barry. But where Sofia “trusts the people around her and their ability to do well” Rafe does not. His heart is hardened, he’s suspicious, he’s on defence. Both Rafe and Sofia are self-preserving, it just manifests in different ways.

[pastel-peach-writes]

CAITVI X YOU IN A BAND PLEASE OH MY LORD !!?? BONUS IF UR SINGING EITHER A LOVE SONG OR A SPICY ONE N THEY R JUST LOOKING AT EACHOTHER N THEN U ?!!!

Comin' up!

Hot Rocker | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Caitlyn and Vi have a partner in a band and holy crap, they can't get enough of them.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Suggestive Themes, Lowkey The Dirtiest Thing I've Written As A PG-13 Writer, Musician/Singer Reader(separately and together), Mentions Of Overly Touchy Groupies

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– First off, Caitlyn and Vi absolutely love that you're in a band.

– They can't keep their eyes off of you every time you perform.

– They love how the lights compliment your complexion, and how your hair/body moves as you play and/or sing. Not to mention the cool ass outfits

– Vi loves you with multiple rings, ripped pants, and wild hair. Maybe even an open button-down. Basically, she loves the rocker masc look on you. She says its badass

– Caitlyn loves that look too, obviously. But she mainly loves the look on your face rather than the outfits.

– Yes, she's into fashion and loves what you wear, but when your face softens as you play a romantic ballad or how your face scrunched as you concentrate on your instrument

– speaking of instruments, if you play any handheld string instrument or the piano, Vi will never stop asking you what those hands do.

– it made your face heat up the first few times, but the later times, vi received eye-rolls, smiles, and sometimes a wink.

– even if you play the fucking drums, Vi would always ask because you often twirl the sticks between your fingers.

– If you're not much of a player, but more of a singer, Vi would ask why aren't you that vocal when she goes down on you.

– WELP.

– vocal or not during spicy times, she would always comment on it and Caitlyn will always flick her ear.

– okay, before we get into you singing a spicy song on them or furthermore on how they act while you perform, let's talk about them and your groupies.

– It's not like they don't love them! They do and they're your fans.

– If you like them, they love them

– but some of the groupies don't understand boundaries and/or talk about you in a certain way they don't like.

– it's not gross. it's the normal, "omg they're so hot!" "did you see how they acted during the finale? ohhh my god, I'm on my knees" "they could run me over with a bus and not only will i apologize for getting in the way, I'd say thank you.

– Okay, that last line makes Vi chuckle as she overhears it. Caitlyn is more concerned, but you say similar lines to her and Vi, so it's not like it was foreign behavior to her.

– anyways!

– they don't like when your groupies get handsy or visibly make you uncomfortable when you're all backstage.

– some of your fans/groupies are so wrapped up in your stardom, they forget you're human.

– God, don't let your bodyguards fail at their job.

– Vi is the first one screaming that the show's over, the guards aren't doing their fucking job, and some of your fans need to learn some respect.

– Caitltyn immediately apologizes for Vi's profanity, but not for her actions of shutting things down. She glares at the guards and some of the problematic fans while ushering everyone out

– she also looks at the kind fans apologetically and hopes they get home safe.

– OKAY FINALLY. SHOWTIME (literally)

– you don't sing or play your spicy songs until near the end of the concert.

– the mood is calmer, the fans are fully engrossed in the music. and the lighting is a perfect purple/red.

– usually, the spicy songs are covers, but the moment you show up performing a BRAND NEW UNRELEASED song about the two of them? ohhh god

– first off, cait and vi are blushing. it's intense and they're so flustered but since they're in the front row and surrounded by people, they have to keep it cool.

– the moment you mention the contrast of calloused and soft hands, they glance at each other like "is this fucking play about us?!"

– yeah, babes. it is.

– if you're a singer, you look at them as you sing. you don't stare at them all the time. (you can't let the fans know this song is explicitly ab them even though they have a good hunch)

– you're holding onto the mic stand, swaying your hips to the music with your eyes closed. but then when you talk about their kisses and maybe even how they act during the act, you look at them with a little smirk

– vi smirks back, but its very faint. she's thinking, "oh this little fucker. you're not going to get away with this"

– meanwhile, Caitlyn is freaking.

– she's not really open w her "adult" life like that and even though the details are vague and you're not saying her name, she can't help but get embarrassed

– now people know her dirtiest and deepest fantasies! (aka pretty lingerie and whispers smh. you'll be okay cait)

– if you're not much of a singer, but a music player, you watch them the entire time you play.

– you added some lyrics to the song, so when the line you wrote about them comes up, you make eye contact. A sneaky smile spreads across your face and your tongue pokes at your cheek

– if the song is more upbeat, think Chase Atlantic, you headbang to some of the music.

– if the song is slower, lana del ray type shit, you sway your music and chew on your lip

– whatever you do, Caitlyn and Vi love it

– they're weak at the knees, resisting the urge to jump on stage and kiss you until your lips turn purple

– god, they think you're such a tease but they love it.

– after the show Vi walks up to you like, "well, that was some song"

– and you're "innocently" like "oh, what song? can you remind me?"

– even Caitlyn's a little smug with a tensed jaw and her tongue running along her upper teeth. she crosses her arms, Vi mimics the stance, and she tilts her head to the side. in a low, sultry whisper she goes "you know what song."

– WHEWWWWW

– butterflies, shivers, ETC. EVERYTHING YOU COULD FEEL YOU'RE FEELING

– later that night at the hotel is interesting, but I'll leave that to your imagination.

WC: 1,000

[spirit-lanterns]

Firefly looks so adorable and badass as the same time in her realize picture. 😳

The cutie patootie who could easily manhandle you when she pilots Sam 🥺 Ohhh I want to be bent over so badddd, the robot-fucker in me is going haywire rn…

I can’t help but imagine Bunny Reader thumping her foot in excitement when she sees Sam for the first time. Poor Bunny is so aroused she wants to take Firefly right now.

[bumblebee-online]

Imagine a Goob X Reader were It like this

Badass and Serious X shy and cute

Scraps:hey Goob what are you doing

Goob:oh Just looking at Reader....im tô shy tô admit it

Scraps:......didn't Reader grabbed shrimpo and throw them out the window

⟡ ݁₊ . goob with a badass crush!

☎️; this is sooo cute omg!!! witerally obsessed with this ask

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Most of the toons knew better than to mess with you. Hell, even Dandy broke into a light sweat the moment you stepped into the room. You were intimidating and so strong, yet in Goob’s mind, you were also insanely sweet and caring. Nobody else saw in you what Goob did. They were simply too afraid, always assuming your serious demeanor would get them into some kind of trouble.

Your reserved and composed demeanor contrasted with Goob’s silliness in a way that was almost comedic, making it hard for anyone to believe there was something between you. After all, how could the intimidating badass possibly be interested in someone as naive and soft as the stuffed craft? Surely you’d want someone who matched your level, right?

Well, opposites attract. And in your case, the attraction was strong. By the time you two started becoming more playful in the elevator, it caught Scraps completely off guard. She watched you both with a mix of awe and admiration, marveling at how her brother managed to bring a smile to even the most stoic face.

As you zoomed off to handle the twisteds, Scraps and Goob remain close, wandering the floor in search of ichor machines. It wasn’t long before Scraps noticed Goob zoning out. Following his gaze, she noticed you effortlessly distracting the threats. With a knowing grin, the cat nudged her brother, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“What’cha thinkin’ about, Goob?” she asked with a small giggle, watching as her brother struggled to come up with an excuse. After a moment of nervous fidgeting and an internal battle with himself, the craft decided that if he were to tell anyone, it should be Scraps.

“I don’t know if I should tell them how I feel yet,” Goob confessed, his voice quiet as he nervously averted his gaze to the floor. “I’m too shy to say it.”

Scraps fought to keep her excitement contained, holding back the most giddy smile at Goob’s love confession. Of course she had noticed you and Goob growing closer, but this felt different. Something really special. “Ohhh, them, really?” she asked with playful curiosity. “Aren’t they the one who threw Shrimpo out the window that one time?”

Goob chuckled at the mention of you tossing Shrimpo out of a window. “Yeah, that was definitely them,” he replied, feeling a little more at ease. But then, as you were busy looping a twisted, you spun, gave him a friendly wave, and headed off, leaving him frozen.

Scraps waved her paw in front of Goob’s face, trying to snap him out of his trance. “Goob! Hey! Bro!” she called out, shaking him gently. When his eyes finally snapped back to her, she let out a sigh. “You better tell them soon, or you might just explode.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[hanaybuns]

see, i have so many ideas for the type of girls that the matsus should end up with based on their strengths and weaknesses, lemme explain:

Osomatsu: osomatsu is all issues... he doesn't really know who he is outside of the group, he's objectively very selfish at times, and he's somehow both a pervert and a coward when it comes to women. but at the end of the day, he's a laid back big bro who always knows the right thing to say to diffuse a situation. the girl he ends up with has to be the complete opposite. i want her to be high strung, very type A. she should be successful, her job gives her a lot of responsibility, but she's up to the task. she's not boring exactly, but she spends so much time working that she can't enjoy herself without feeling like she could be using the time more productively. osomatsu would flirt with her and ofc she's like "someone get this bum off of me." it starts as a one off thing, but he finds himself actually interested in this big boss lady. talking to her makes him almost actually want to improve, because he really gets a look at what a real leader is like. talking to him makes her admire his freedom and humor and helps her unwind. it's slow, but over time, osomatsu actually feels the need to chase her and try to win her over. in the process, osomatsu subtly changes for the better, as he tries to emulate the traits that he admires in her. i think they'd learn a lot from each other.

Karamatsu: karamatsu's issue is that he lives in this delusion where he's convinced that he's the coolest guy in the world and that everyone around him admires him to no end. as a result, he often struggles to say what he's really thinking and feeling (or listen to others) because he's trying to keep up his cool image. kara needs to end up with someone way cooler than him. just objectively this cool, badass girl. and she needs to be kinda blunt (like karamatsu). someone that can challenge him to really say what he's thinking and open up, but not rude to the point where she actually hurts him. see, she has to be the cool one, but not break the illusion for him that he's the cool one. she'd be someone who struggles to be vulnerable, and he can make her feel loved and cared for. she almost can't really believe that someone could forgive her and care about her despite all her rough edges and the mistakes she makes. but kara is like "i have 5 brothers who torment me relentlessly and i love them with all my heart, nothing you can do will ever make me stop loving you" karamatsu can use his karamatsuisms for romance and love, but she would force him to break away from them when he needs to articulate what he wants or doesn't want. i already wrote a scenario about this made up girl a while back, so you can check that out (please don't).

Choromatsu: ohhh choro-chan... see, choros issue is that he doesn't like women, he worships them. and thats all good and dandy in theory, but would make him really toxic in a relationship because he'll put the girl on an untouchable pedestal. he also lives in this perpetual sense of delusion where he's far more important and responsible than he actually is. see, he has to end up with someone very flawed and also blunt. she needs to be someone who can snap him out of this fantasy that women are these mystical creatures. unlike kara's girl, choro's girl is actually rude. i want her to be rude, messy, funny, and kinda a slob. but the key is that she's very pretty too, which makes this a very frustrating situation for choro. he'll try to tell her that she should act more like a lady, but she'll immediately snap back with "shut up, people with jobs don't listen to girlfriendless neets." and chorochan is miserable because his bros ask him if he likes this girl and he's like "NO she's sloppy and rude and annoying and she drives me up the wall but aaaaurrgghh i can't stop THINKING about her" they'll be really frustrated with each other at first, how can he/she think that he's/she's better than me??!! she's mad because despite being a neet, he actually is more responsible than she is. he's mad because despite being a slob, she actually has a job and contributes to society. but as they open up to each other, they start to appreciate each others characteristics and flaws. oh, and they're both nyaa fans

that's enough for now, i'll do the rest of these weirdos later

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery:Angel and Cherri reacts to their song and you realize a embarrassing truth

Ch-11: A Brutal Acceptance

Masterlist

'I.... don't know...' Angel answered. He was scared. He didn't like how you looked at him and asked him the question.

'Charlie.. could you tell her to show me the video first? I..I want to see what's in there'

He knew the song 'Addict' from somewhere in his mind. He knew the lyrics somehow, like he sang it before. But he needed to know what would be shown in this video. Which he did not know. But from the lyrics alone he could feel it's something really personal to him.

Charlie looked at him worringly and translated it for you. You nodded in understanding. 'Cherri.. could ya come with me? It might be best if we see it together ' Angel said with a quivering voice. Cherri looked at him sadly and nodded her head. She too could remember singing it but not the scenarios.

You held out your palm in front of Angel where he climbed on. And Cherri climbed on your shoulder. "I'm really sorry guys, but it's something Angel needs to see for himself first. I'll show you guys later" you said as you went to the other room besides yours.

'Soo..tell me, Charlie and Vaggie..just exactly how you turned into this?' Alastor asked as soon as you left. 'You clearly don't expect me to believe so easily that it happened all of a sudden like that girl did'

"We told you, nothing happened. We were just talking about random stuffs and we suddenly turned into this, that's all" Vaggie scoffed looking at Alastor. Alastor tilted his head looking at them.

'Is that so....'

You sat down on the lounge of the other room as Cherri and Angel climbed down from your body. You opened up your phone this time as you left the laptop in your room. Finding the video on YouTube you turned to the pair.

"Angel, Cherri, are you guys ready?"

Angel gulped as he saw the warning sign on the paused video but they nodded their head. You put the phone in front of them as you played the song.

'Till death do us part...'

'But we're already past that phase...'

Angel's face scrunched up seeing Valentino's face. Even in cartoon, his face looked as terrifying as in real life . Actually it's because it's in cartoon, that his hideous smirks and menacing smiles were all the more clear.

'I'm addicted...to this madness...'

'This hotel is..my Atlantis...'

Angel's eyes shot wide open seeing him on the video crying and Cherri comforting him. 'T-they got this part of me here....?' he whispered in a broken voice. 'Shh, it's okay Angie..' Cherri attempted to cheer him up by placing one of her small arms on his back.

'Just concede and give into your inner demons again '

'Hey, at least we look badass here right? Look!' Cherri pointed at them dancing trying to distract him from his thoughts. She hoped there weren't more of those moments. But that was quickly broken.

Angel let out a shaky breath seeing the scene of Valentino forcefully kissing him and then his breakdown right after. A silent tear fell from his eye unbeknownst to him as the memories of that day came flooding back in his mind.

You gave Angel a sad look as you tried to pat him gently on his head. But you quickly took back your hand seeing him flinch a little. "I'm sorry Angel... I'm really really sorry.." you said looking down.

Cherri patted Angel on his back. He didn't flinch this time as more tears fell. He didn't mean to flinch in front of you. He knew you were just trying to help. But he didn't know you quite well yet and couldn't help it.

'Your money and power'

'my sinfull delight'

'A hit of that heaven and hell'

'One helluva high'

'Thank you Cherri. For doing all of these for me' Angel said with a broken voice as he watched Cherri blow up Valentino's studio. 'Anything for my best bud' Cherri said with a fake cheerful voice. She was pretty shaken seeing that...guy pop up during her song. But she swatted it down.

'Just concede and give into your inner demons again '

'Ohhh,look at you go Angel! You look hot as fuck here' Cherri said as another part of them dancing together came on. 'You too toots..' Angel said he tried to collect himself. 'We fuckin rock ' Cherri smiled at him. He tried to give her a small smile back.

'And I fucking blew that place to bits! Serves em right!' Cherri cheered as the song came to its end music. 'Yeah!' Angel said with bit more energy this time. Relived that it was finally ending.

"There's a bit left guys.." you said with a small voice as they turned to the screen again. 'Oh no..what else..' Angel thought worringly.

'Lookin awesome... feeling helpless'

Angel tried to hug himself seeing that scene. But the only thing he managed was to lower his head more between all his legs and cower.

'And I know I'm raising Cain by every highway in hell'

'Maybe things won't be so terrible inside this hotel'

"And that was the end guys.." you said softly looking at the pair. You picked up your phone as you looked down at them with sad eyes. "Angel....are..are you doing okay..?"

It sucked that you couldn't talk with either of them to know what they're feeling now. You wanted, no, needed to know that Angel was alright. "Tap on my hand if either of you are ready to head back to the other room"

Cherri looked at you and nodded. 'I..I can't show this to them... they'll use me just like Val..' Angel choked out.

"Angel, I don't know how well you're doing and I don't think it's that good....but I just want you to know, I'm here for you. Thousands of people on the internet are here for you too. As long as you're with me, I won't let that fucker touch you even if it costs my life" you said with determination in your voice.

Angel looked up at you teary eyed. 'It's gonna be okay Angie. We're all here for you okay?' Angel nodded. 'I really need a drink right now...' He said as he calmed down a little and wiped his tears. He prepared his fake self again to show the others.'You can tap on her hand now Cherri... I'll handle it somehow...I know I can't run away from this..'

"Angel if you want we can show them the video tomorrow. You can use tonight to collect yourself if you'd like" you said as softly as you could.

"I get why you wouldn't want to show them, but this song is out on the internet. They can see it whenever they like once they're human again. It's better if you explain things to them first by yourself. And I'm sure everyone will support you here"

You weren't trying to be insensitive  to him. But you knew he had to show them eventually, it was inevitable. Since they are in you world, if they wanted, they could watch it anytime they want. It's better if Angel was prepared for this beforehand.

Angel gave you a sad smile and nodded. He really needed some more time to think through about these stuffs. Cherri tapped on your hand as they both climbed on top of your body again.

"Tomorrow it is then. We'll show them tomorrow" you said as you headed towards your room again. Charlie immediately rushed towards you as all of them looked at you guys with worry except Alastor.

"How did it go? I-is everything alright?" Charlie asked the last part looking at Angel. You looked down at Angel as he took a shallow breath.

'You guys can see that video tomorrow, not today. That music video... shows things very personal and sensitive to me that If I had my way, I would never let that see the light of day...' Angel said as he looked away.

'But (Y/n) was right. You guys would see it sooner or later since it's on the internet already. And god knows if something's on the internet, it'll be there forever no matter how much you try to hide it..' Angel said sighing.

"It's alright Angel, we understand. We'll wait till you feel comfortable right guys?" She looked at the others in the room.

'Now could you please ask the girl about the flirting thingy with our voice...actors? Or whatever that was?'  Alastor chipped in.

"Oh yes that part. Hey (Y/n) could you tell us about our voice actor thing? The one you were playing of us flirting and stuffs?"

"Oh that was the Hunicast! It's a podcast thingy your VA's did. But it won't happen again since your va's have been replaced in the new season" you replied happily talking about the videos. But then suddenly a realization hit you like a bullet.

'Wait a minute...flirting.......me playing the video...' you thought quickly as you remembered just how you acted during those.

"Please don't tell me you were watching me during those times..." You meekly said.

"Yes we were.." Vaggie replied looking confused at your sudden change of mood."We were still with you as animals remember?"

"Fuuuuuckkk"

You sank to your knees, holding your now burning face with embarrassment. If they were here that means they saw you simping for them. God they knew just how much of a fangirl you were.

"Please let me dig a hole and die! I don't want to live with this embarrassment any more!!" You squeaked out.

"Why? What's wrong?" Charlie asked concernly as she crouched down with you.

'I think I might have an idea of what's going on' Angel said said with a real smile tracing his lips this time. 'Our little host here is embarrassed for being seen acting like a little fangirl in front of her crush's!'

Alastor grin widened in amusement as he watched you squeak on the ground. "There there, I don't think it was that bad..." Charlie attempted to console you.

"Yes it was!" You looked up at Charlie from your hands. "Ahhhhh, please kill me..." You groaned in your hands.

"It's truly fine dear. I don't think any of us thought any negatively about you" Vaggie looked at you softly from the bed.

Alastor snickered and looked away making Vaggie glare draggers at him.

"Whatever... it's past recovering at this point.." you slowly got up, still refusing to look at them at the eye, especially Alastor.

"It's getting late, let's have dinner and go to sleep for now. We can talk more tomorrow" you wanted to change the topic quickly and pray everyone forgets about this as soon as possible.

"Let us help you out this time! You can just relax, me and Vaggie will take care of everything!"

"But-"

"No buts, you took care of us all these time! It's only fair we repay you" Charlie said as she marched to the kitchen holding Vaggie's hand with enthusiasm.

Charlie, Vaggie and you shared a delicious meal later as the other animals got their respective food.

"Now time to sleep" you announced tiredly. As you walked into your room you realised an important thing.

You only had one bed in the cabin. Nervously laughing, you looked back at the human duo behind you.

"You two can take the bed, I'll go rest on the lounge in the other room"

You didn't have any spare mattresses lying around. Cause you never thought you needed one in the first place. But that might have to change from now.

"Oh no no, we wouldn't want to overstep, maybe we can take the -"

"Nah it's fine, the two of you need a bed more then me. I'll be fine by myself on the lounge " you reassured Charlie as you went to that room.

You ignored Alastor staring at your form as you polpped into the soft cushion, ready to call it a day.

Exhaustion and weariness of today's events soon caught up to you as you drifted into a deep sleep.

Husk and Niffty joined you soon. Husk kept his distance as Niffty cuddled up to you. You smiled in your sleep as you held her close.

*Some time ago*

Jake lowered the dead rabbit's body from today's hunt to the cutting board. He missed a big catch today, but meeting you was been quite a reward to forget about that easily. A small grin plastered his face as he begins to skin the rabbit for his dinner.

The head of the rabbit looked up at him with wide open eyes as he begun to prepare the meat. It reminded him when you both met today.

This rabbit was a mother rabbit, ready to protect it's kids when he found them. Just as you were ready to defend your 'Friends' as you called them, while looking at him with those big eyes of yours fearfully.

His knife sliced through the meat easily as blood splattered around it.

A.N: I really had to put my thinking cap on for this chapter on how tackle this. Since this is a sensitive subject, I tried to be as careful as possible with my reasonings.

Hopefully the chapter lived up to your expectations :')

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I had a dumb idea that I wanted to ask, how would Ken and Barbie react to a new Ken who's supposed to be a superhero (K man or something) thing is there's no criminals or supervillains in barbie land to fight so for most of the time their either crouching over buildings overdramatically monologuing their thoughts/past or hiding in their not so secret base

The "overdramatic monologue" is giving ATSV!Ben Riley hsahggs

.........

Ken

You're a new Ken doll who was meant to be a superhero (and you were an instant hit with the kids back in the Real World).

But Beach!Ken thought you were just another rival trying to compete for Stereo!Barbie's attention, especially when you have such a cool costume and look badass 24/7.

So he's got his eye on you.

Yet you don't really have a Barbie and you're certainly not trying to get anybody else's Barbie.

You're just Ken-Man (or Super Ken, K-Man, or whatever Mattel decided to call your alias), the lone savior, protector, and guardian of Barbieland.

Except..there's not really much for you to save, protect, or guard in the first place.

Barbieland's more or less a utopia. There's no supervillains or an archnemesis for you to fight, nor is there any crime.

So when Ken's standing alone on the beach one night, he spots you crouching on the ledge of one of the buildings, and he can see you looking around.

He goes closer for curiosity's sake (and to distract himself bc he's bummed out he couldn't stay at Barbie's dreamhouse), and hears you monologuing.

"Just another windy night in Barbieland..it's cool, refreshing, and calming. It's like my conscience in a way. It's at peace knowing that I've kept this city safe once again. I hope every Barbie, Ken, and everydoll in-between sleeps soundly-"

"What are you doing up there, Ken?"

When you see Beach!Ken staring up at you, you jump down and land (to which he jumps back, surprised you didn't break a leg), thrilled that some doll finally approached you.

"Ah! You caught me monologuing."

"Mono...what?" He blinks, dumbfounded.

"Just spilling my thoughts, dear citizen. Nothing to worry about." You smile brightly behind your mask, although you see that he looks annoyed. "What troubles you on this quiet night, Ken?"

"Oh nothing. I'm just mad that Ken kept trying to show off and dance with Barbie at her party tonight. He did backflips in front of her! It's not fair, why can't I do that??"

"Ohhh you mean this?" You perform a single backflip, but he glares at you, ready to snap.

"I wanna know how to do that. Teach me."

"Wait...didn't you injure yourself when you tried to go surfing earlier today?"

"...you saw that?"

"Of course. I see everything from my not-so-secret base."

"....AND you have a house?!!!" He screams, causing you to take a step back.

But you quickly realize he's just insecure and thinks he pales in comparison to the other Kens when trying to impress his Barbie.

And you having a cooler job than "Beach" certainly doesn't help matters...

You're a compassionate hero, though, looking to see past his initial hostility and offer to train him on doing backflips, front flips, etc.

He gets cocky and it...doesn't go so well as he slips on a rock and faceplants onto the pavement (luckily he doesn't break anything this time).

Instead you take him to your not-so-secret base to train in a safe environment, and he gets better with practice.

He's very jealous of all the cool tech you have (including a security robot who's similar to Closet from Life in the Dreamhouse, except not hostile at all) and you gotta refrain him from touching anything.

Once he realizes you're not trying to impress his Barbie, he becomes buddies with you--though you treat him more like a sidekick.

Barbie

"Hello, Barbie!"

"Oh hi, Ken!"

She's seen you around Barbieland a lot, especially in the late hours of the night.

You're one of the coolest Kens she's seen, although she's surprised there wasn't some superheroine Barbie already around (or maybe there was...she doesn't know for sure, but it doesn't matter).

While she doesn't fully understand your monologues regarding your past (whether it's about being responsible with your "powers" or whatever origin story Mattel decided to cook up for your character), she finds your words admirable, your deeds heroic, and your personality charming.

When she's on the beach or taking an evening drive, she'll often look for you on the rooftops and wave.

You always wave back, of course.

But immediately lose your train of thought if you were monologuing at the time.

That's okay though, bc you had an oath to keep Barbieland crime-free (and not waving back to a Barbie was something only a criminal scumbag would do).

Even though this place lacks criminal activity and supervillains, you do often help citizens with mundane troubles.

Some call upon your aid and you're there instantly.

Plus, you have a "super sense" that alerts you to imminent danger, allowing you to arrive just in time.

For instance, when Barbie falls from her dreamhouse instead of floating down, you suddenly swooped in to save her before she could hit the ground.

"Are you okay, Barbie??" You worry, having never seen her fall before.

It's not the first time you've ever seen a doll fall, however.

"I-I....yeah, Ken! I'm fine! I'm great!!" She's embarrassed that you saw her at such an "imperfect" moment, stumbling out of your arms. "Thanks for saving me."

"Of course, it's my job to protect all of you." You smile.

Although after she leaves in her car, you frown a bit, worried that she's in more trouble than she's willing to admit..

Maybe you oughta report to Weird Barbie.

[pikapeppa]

Karlach/Dammon: Burning Blue

A wish fulfillment fic to answer the question: what if Dammon was the lucky guy to break Karlach's ten-year celibacy streak?

NSFW smut, ~7500 words, from Karlach's precious POV. This takes place the same night that Dammon makes Karlach very touchable again. 🥰 Read here on AO3 instead.

*****************

I’m nervous. Gods, I’m fucking nervous. No, no, don’t be nervous, Big K, you’ve got this. It’s nothing you haven’t done before! It’s just a good old-fashioned come-on, that’s all. Just a good old-fashioned invitation for Dammon to do the beast with two backs with you. No sweat, nothing to worry about, no reason to feel like your engine’s gonna thrum its way right out of your chest.

Ugh, fine, I’m nervous. I’ll admit it, all right? I’m nervous. But how can you blame me? It’s been a decade since I laid a finger on another living soul. One who wasn’t a hellspawn or trying to kill me, I should say. Yeah, the Avernus kind of laying-a-finger-on-someone is really not what I have in mind right now.

All right, there he is. I mean, of course he’s there, it’s his smithy setup in the barn, where the fuck else would be be? Shit, I’m so nervous. What if he says no? What if he doesn’t want to hit the bedroll with me? I might just crumble up into a pile of ash on the spot if he turns me down…

Ohhh, no you don’t. No more doubt. Not another negative word, you hear me? We’re doing this. Come on, soldier, shape up, be confident, all right? Just be your usual big beautiful bold badass self, just like Brynn said. Back straight, head high, tail-barb up: come on, girl, you can do this.

“Dammon! Hi! How’s the hammering going?” Nice, good start. Solid greeting, nothing weird about that.

“Karlach!” he says. “You’re back. I thought you were off to camp for the night.”

He’s smiling at me. Gods, does he ever have a nice smile. It’s like his whole face gets lit up with sunshine. And those eyes? Phwoar. I wonder if anyone’s ever told him how pretty his eyes are. Like two big blue jewels. Or like lightning turned into jewels. Wait, what’s all this nonsense I’m saying? I think I’ve been spending too much time with Gale. Ha, saying something would be a good idea right about now, wouldn’t it?

“Yeah, I’m back. I was wondering, do you — are you done for the day?” It looks like he’s done for the day. His forge is still hot, but it’s just coals now rather than a big old fire. Gods, I hope he’s done for the day.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up,” he says (yay!). “Did you need something repaired? I can rekindle the fire, it’s no problem—”

“No, no, all good. Everything’s tip-top, thanks to you. Listen, I was wondering: d’you want to have a drink with me?”

His whole face lights up, and my gods, I swear: if I had a heart, it would’ve done a fluttery thing like something from a romance book. “That sounds great. Let’s go on inside.” He hangs up his apron, and then we’re heading to the inn.

Yes! First step done, we’re off to a cracking good start! Here we go, inside the inn for a drink, just me and Dammon. How great is this? I mean, not that it’s not wonderful being with Brynn and Wyll and all the rest of those adorable little dumplings, but there’s something special to be said about being alone with just you and the person you’ve got mad horns for.

Here we are, at the door to the inn — and Dammon touches my shoulder. “Go ahead.”

He’s touching my shoulder. His hand, that strong callused hand on my shoulder. He’s touching me, he can touch me, and it’s all thanks to him. Gods, I want to ride him until the sun comes up.

Keep it together, Karlach. Stay cool until you find out if he wants this too. Ha, stay cool! I can sort of almost do that now! Enough for touching, at least, which is all I want in the world right now, and Dammon is touching my shoulder, and… and I should probably get inside the inn now.

I step inside — quick little rub of Darkmaw’s paw for luck. Ooh, Jaheira is still awake, I love her, she’s so damned cool!

Dammon leads me to one of the tables near the bar. “What can I get you? Wine? Beer? The beer is even cold, thanks to Jaheira—”

“Cold beer? Sign me the fuck up!”

He smiles — ugh, swoon! — and off he goes to the bar to find some beer. And here I am, sitting at this table, happier than the happiest clam that ever lived in the sandy banks of the Chionthar. Ha, that was a funny line! I mean, I think it was funny. I bet Wyll will, too. I’ll have to tell him about it — maybe he can add it to one of his stories!

Gods, this inn is nice: all candle-lit and quiet since it’s nighttime, real cozy-like. Perfect for telling a certain smith that he’s one of the kindest, warmest, most wonderful people you’ve ever met and that you fancy his pants off — literally, if he wants it that way. Ohh, I’m getting nervous again. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s going to be fine.

Dammon comes back and sets down two steins. “Are you all right?”

“I’m better than all right. I’m fantastic.” I lift my stein. “Cheers to you, Dammon. For everything. I really mean that.”

Another killer smile. “Cheers back to you, Karlach.” He taps his stein to mine, then brings it to his mouth, and I do the same — ohhh, beer. Cold beer, my gods, I’d forgotten exactly how good this was! I take another swallow and another — okay, honestly, I am so thirsty. And now I’m out of beer, and Dammon is smiling at me, and no, no, I can’t throw myself at him across the table, I can’t.

He chuckles and puts down his stein. “Can I get you another?”

“Naw, I’m good,” I laugh. “This was great, thanks.”

He nods and rests his elbows on the table (hellooo, rolled-up sleeves and forearms). “So what did you want to talk about? Do you have questions about your engine?”

“No, it’s not that.” No fucking way am I thinking about that right now. “I wanted to ask if, um…” Don’t be nervous, girl. You’ve got this. “You said before that I was — that I’m… touchable. Very touchable.”

Oh no, his smile’s fading. “Yeah, I did. I’m…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe I crossed a line…? This is a big — a huge deal for you, I know it must be overwhelming, the last thing you need—”

Wait wait wait! “Hang on, slow down. You think you crossed a line?”

“I… didn’t I? That’s not what you wanted to say?”

“Hells, no!” Woah, voice down, there are people sleeping in the room next door. “Are you kidding?” I say (quietly). “If that’s what you call crossing the line, I want you to cross all the lines.”

He looks gobsmacked now, which is really fucking cute. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. I really, really do. If you want to, I mean. I don’t — I mean, I know I’m a lot of heat to handle, but I…” Fuck, my engine feels like it’s roaring. Please, gods, let him want this too. “I want to be with you, Dammon. I… It’s been so long since I was with anyone, and — and now that I can be with someone, I… I want it to be you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at me like a fish, actually. Oh fuck, am I totally off base here? Noooo. “No pressure, though! No — I mean, if you’re not into… If I’m jumping the hatchet here, that’s totally fine, it’s not a problem—”

“No!” he blurts. “It’s not that. Believe me, Karlach, it’s not that I don’t want to. I mean — what I mean is that I…” He’s smiling again, thank all the fucking gods. “I would love to be with you, actually. I just… I can’t believe it’s me you want.”

I would love to be with you. I would love to be with you. He said that, right? Those were the words he said? Dammon the amazing smith with the amazing sinew-y hands said that to me, right? Oh shit, he’s still talking.

He gestures at me. “I mean, look at you. You’re Karlach. The Karlach, the destroyer of demons and devilspawn. You’re a hero.”

Oh my gods. Is that really what he thinks? “Wha—? Oh come on! It’s not like that.”

“It is like that,” he insists. “Haven’t you spoken to the kids? Mattis and Ide and them? I mean, I know you have, but you know they worship you, right? You’re like a goddess to them.” He looks around like he’s checking for spies, then lowers his voice. “Honestly? I think you’re better for them than a goddess, because you’re real to them. You mean something to them, Karlach. You’ve given them someone to look up to. That’s no small thing for a group of tiefling kids with no parents to look up to anymore.”

Fuck, I’m gonna cry. He doesn’t even know about Mum and Dad, and he hit the nail right on the fucking head.

He touches my hand — oh fuck, he’s not just touching my hand, but holding my hand. Turning my hand over on the table, his fingers sliding over my palm, his fingers curling into mine like he did right after he fixed me… Gods, my entire throat is full of fucking tears.

“I would love to be with you, Karlach,” he says in the softest voice. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

Oh, hells. He’s going to make me weep. Swallow it down, soldier, gulp those tears down! “Let’s get outta here. Will you come back to my camp?”

“Actually…” Ooh, what’s this cheeky look on his face? Cute! “Would you be interested in a bed?”

What? No way! “A bed? You’ve got a claim on one of the beds here?”

“Sort of. Me and the other grown-ups have a rotation with one of the rooms upstairs. Taking turns having a little peace and privacy for a night.”

“You and the grown-ups?”

“Yeah — well, we offered to the kids, too, but they want to stay together on the main floor, where the Harpers are. Can’t really blame them, either. But anyway, um, what I was trying to say is, um.” He clears his throat. “If you’d rather use a bed than a bedroll, there’s—”

I’m already on my feet. “Bed. You and me. Now.”

He smiles — gods, that brilliant smile. And he’s on his feet too now, we’re heading for the stairs — oh my gods, he’s holding my hand again. Dammon is holding my hand, his fingers are between my fingers, how fucking nice is this? How long have I been thinking about this — no, dreaming about this? Easy, Karlach, keep those tears in your eyes.

He gives me a little smile as we walk up the stairs. “Fair warning that it was Rolan’s turn in the bed last night, so it might smell a little magical.”

What! Is that a thing? Gale and Brynn never said that was a thing! “Really? What does magic smell like?”

“Oh, no, I — I’m just joking.” Dammon smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “It was a bad joke. Sorry. Pretend you didn’t—”

I kiss him. How could I not kiss him? He’s so — oh, gods, he’s kissing me. His lips, my lips, his hands in mine, we’re — we’re kissing, we’re kissing! Dammon the smith is kissing me, and he’s… Would it be naff as all the hells if I said he was dreamy? Fuck it, who cares if it’s naff? He is gods-damned dreamy. As much as his hands are callused, his lips are so fucking soft, and I’m… I am melting. I swear, I’m melting, he’s making my lips melt apart like a hot knife in butter, he’s touching his tongue to mine… Gods, his hands though? How he uses them? This is fucking magic. His thumbs are sliding over my wrists, his palms skimming up my arms, over my shoulders, oh gods, oh gods oh gods…!

His hands cradle my neck, and his tongue slides into my mouth, and I’m — I’m… I can’t think. I can’t think, I can’t — I can just feel. I feel him: his lips his tongue his hands — how close he is, the nearness of his body to mine, I feel… fuck, I feel everything, every touch of his fingers and every stroke of his tongue, and I — he — shit, was that me? That little kitten-y sound: was that actually me? I’ve never made a sound like that in my life.

He breaks the kiss, presses his horns to mine. “Are you all right?”

I’m a puddle. I can’t talk. I just nod.

He smiles (arghhh, as if I’m not melted enough already!). “You’re burning blue,” he whispers.

Huh? “Huh?”

“You’re burning blue.” He rests his palm on my chest — oh shit, I really am burning blue. I… I’m burning blue but — but I’m not burning him!

“You’re…” My hand’s fucking shaking as I press it over his. “You don’t feel that? Not even a little singe?”

“Not even a little singe.” His eyebrows do that little mischief-quirky thing. “I told you, I’m good.”

I laugh. I can’t help it: I’m as giddy as a kid on her birthday. “Oh ho-ho, boy, you don’t know what you’re doing by saying things like that in a voice like that.” I step closer to him.

His gorgeous smile gets even bigger. “Or maybe I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, still in that voice — oh, gods yes, his hands are on my neck again, so callused and so fucking gentle—

“Ahem.”

Fuck, Jaheira’s right behind us! “J-Jaheira! I mean, uh, ma’am!” Shit, should I bow to her? What should I do? She’s looking at me!

She smiles — the Jaheira is smiling at me! — then tilts her head. “Karlach, is it?”

She remembers my name! Snap to attention, soldier! “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

She nods to Dammon too. “Dammon. Good evening. Let it be known that no one begrudges you your fun, but perhaps you should have it elsewhere that isn’t right at the top of the stairs. The only stairs that leads to the upper floor…?”

All right, now I’m going to melt from embarrassment. “Of course! Right! Uh, right! Uh—”

Dammon cuts me off, thank fuck. “Sorry, Jaheira,” he says. “We’ll get out of your way. Out of the way, I mean.” He takes my hand again, and I’m following him down the hall to one of the rooms: a simple little room with a nice cushy-looking double bed.

He leads me inside and closes the door. We look at each other. And we just crack up, we just totally — we’re both laughing like loons, just laughing so hard I can hardly fucking breathe. Augh, my ribs are starting to hurt, I’m laughing so hard!

“Here, sit down,” Dammon chuckles. He leads me over to the bed, and I let him guide me there.

Then I push him down and straddle him.

His gorgeous eyes get big. “Oh! Are you—”

I kiss him again — gods, he’s so delicious. Soft lips, hot tongue, strong hands: oh, I could just die for the touch of his hands. They’re circling my waist, they’re gripping my hips, they’re curling around my thighs… Fuuuck, gods, I’m sparking. Feels like everything’s sparking, like everywhere he touches is shooting with sparks, and I can’t… I can’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I need more, I need his fucking hands, I need his hands on my skin.

I rip off my top and chuck it on the floor, and his baby-blues drop to my tits. “W-wow. I—”

I grab his collar and I shove my tongue into his mouth — fuck, his tongue tangling with mine: mm, just imagine feeling that sweet tongue in other places… Hellfire take me, I need this man more than I need air.

I climb off of him and start unbuttoning the ol’ trousers, and he grabs my hands. “Hey, hey. Easy, Karlach. Slow down. You don’t need to rush.”

Easy? Slow down? He’s kidding, right? It’s like I’ve never known the meaning of the word. “I…” Fuck, I’m breathing hard, I’m breathing so hard, and every breath feels like it’s making me hotter. Easy, Karlach, slow it down for him.

I gulp down a breath. “I hear you, soldier. But I have to tell you, I… Sometimes it feels like I’ve only got two modes: off, and on-on-on. I don’t…” Damn it, Karlach, breathe. “You might need to show me how to do this slowing-down thing.”

He smiles, and I swear, something inside of me absolutely melts. He’s got this way about him when he smiles, like his smile makes his face softer even when he’s showing his teeth, and it just… It’s such a special smile, you know? Like the way it feels when your mum watches you eating your favourite meal that she made? That’s how Dammon’s smile feels, and I swear on my life, if I still had a heart, it would be swelling up to five times its normal size.

He shifts off of the bed. “I’m happy to show you,” he says, and gods save me, he’s using that voice again. “Maybe I can start with…?” He gestures at my trousers and gives me a can-I? kind of look.

“Yes,” I say loudly. “Fuck yes.”

A big brilliant smile, and then he’s — ah, fuck yes, he’s undoing the buttons on my pants. He’s popping the buttons one by one, not even touching me as he does it, but I swear to all the gods, watching him do this is making me hotter than I’ve ever been in my life. And that includes when Zariel first put this fucking engine in my chest. No, don’t think about Zariel, forget about her.

Dammon pops the last button, then looks at me. “Can I take them off?”

“Please. Rip them off for all I care!”

He grins — gods, he’s a stupidly beautiful man. He’s pulling down my shabby trousers now, finally, pulling the damn things down over my hips and my ass and — oh. Oh my gods, oh my gods he’s kneeling in front of me this is not a drill!.

He sighs. “Karlach, you’re… really beautiful, you know that?”

He’s kneeling in front of me. Dammon is kneeling in front of me. He’s looking at me, his hand is curled around my ankle, and — oh, fuck me, his tail-barb is tracing my calf, his tail is coiling around my calf. His tail, his hand, his — even just his beautiful blue eyes on my skin: he’s seeing me, all of me, my bare fucking skin that nobody’s seen for ten fucking years.

“Are you all right?” His tail-barb strokes my knee, his hand squeezes my calf — fuck, I can’t cope with this.

I grab his shirt and pull. “Please, I — please, Dammon!”

He stands up. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

I kiss him again. I know, I know, I keep fucking doing it, I keep sticking my tongue down his throat, but he’s so… I… Fuck, his hands are on my hips, on my back, he’s — shit, he’s stroking my shoulder blades. His fingers are tracing over my vents like it’s the most normal thing in the world to touch a woman with fucking vents in her skin, and I’m… I feel so… It’s like I’m full, my chest, my tummy, it’s like I’m so, so full — but it just reminds me of how empty I’ve been for so long. And I need him to… I need more. I have to have more. I need him to remind me of how good it is to feel this fucking full.

I grip his collar. “I need you naked. Right now.”

He laughs: argh, that laugh, how soft it is, how sweet! “I thought you wanted me to show you ‘slow’.”

“You can show me slow with your kit off.” I know what I sound like, I sound desperate as all the hells, but I do not fucking care. A river of blue heat is running through my veins, and my skin is fucking vibrating for more: more of him, more of his skin touching mine — gods, I want to slide against him like we’ve both been fucking greased.

“All right,” he chuckles. “You talked me into it.” He takes off his scarf, then starts taking off his vest, and I start working on his belt. I’m just helping, right? Just being a good old helper, that’s me. Ha, his belt is off, his vest is off, just a pesky shirt and trousers now — oh-ho, he’s a fast one with the shirt, we love a man who can strip like a fast-changer at the circus! It’s just the trousers left now. I grab for his laces —

Oh yes, he’s kissing me. His hands on my neck, his tongue so fucking sweet and slow in my mouth — gods alive, kissing is fantastic, so fucking fantastic it’s unreal. He’s pulling me close, his hands on my hips and his chest — fuuuck me Dammon, his sternal ridges are rubbing my nipples.

I can’t fucking cope. I can’t fucking cope, I can’t think, it feels so fucking good, I’m making that noise again like a hungry kitten begging for milk…

He peels his lips from mine. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“Do what?” I whimper. Yes, I whimpered like a kitten, all right? Whatever, shut up about it.

“You’re going slow,” he says in that voice. “You’re doing it right now.”

I’ve not a clue what he’s talking about. I’ve never felt less slow in my whole fucking life. “What do you mean?”

“My trousers,” he says. “You stopped trying to take them off.”

I burst out laughing. (It’s mostly hysteria, I’m fucking telling you.) “It’s not ‘cause I want to stop! I just can’t, uh…” Oh gods oh gods: his tail. His tail-barb is caressing my butt and giving me shivers — gods, what a life! When was the last time I got a shiver about anything? — oh my fucking gods, his tail is twining around my thigh.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m alive with desire, I’m so fucking alive, and all he’s doing is curling his tail around my upper thigh. But his tail is so close — he’s so close, the smooth heat of his tail curling so fucking close to where I’m burning so hot…

That kitten noise squeaks out of me again. “Dammon, please…” I stroke his chest — my palms on his chest, my fingers on the ridges of his ribs, I’m touching him. I’m pressed against him from thigh to chest, I’m pulling him closer with my tail, I’m petting the ridges of his back and his shoulder blades — ooh, he’s got wingtips!

“You have wingtips!” I gasp. “Aw, how lucky are you? My mum always said these were good luck!”

He laughs that precious little laugh. “My grandmother said the same. Said it means I’ll be able to fly in my next life.”

“Aww, I love that. Makes me extra-wish I had a pair myself.” I trace the sharp little hooks with my fingers, then keep running my hands over the ridges of his back. Damn, skin is amazing. It’s really an amazing, amazing thing, and nobody even bothers to think about how amazing it is. Skin and muscles, too, like these nice wiry ropes of muscles in his upper back and his arms… Phwoar, his arms are bloody fit. I mean, of course they are, he’s a fucking smith, but still: I didn’t realize just how damn fit he was under his clothes. And these veins in his forearms? The way they pop, and the burn scars on his forearms and his hands? He might even have more scars on his arms and hands than I do, which is saying a hell of a lot.

Hellfire fucking take me, he is gods-damned beautiful. The scars, the ridges of his spine and his sternum, the wiry muscle of his smithy’s bod — not just his body, either, but his jaw, his nose, that heart-melting jewel-eyed smile…

Oops. Embarrassing. I went totally silent while I was touching him. “Sorry. Went into my own little world for a minute there.”

Another soft laugh. “Don’t even think about being sorry,” he says, and he lifts his hand… Ohhh, he’s touching my cheek. He’s holding my cheek in his palm, just cradling my cheek like it’s a baby bird… How long has it been since I’ve had a hand on my cheek? A nice hand, mind you, not a blood-covered clawed hand trying to gouge my eyes out. Too fucking long, that’s how: too fucking long with no caring hands to touch me or hold me or hug me when things got fucking rough. But that’s all over now, thanks to Dammon. I can touch and be touched, I can kiss and be kissed, I can climb this rip-roaringly gorgeous man in front of me, and I swear to every god that’s listening that that’s what I’m going to do all night long.

I kiss him and pull him close with my hands and tail. I stroke his spine with my tail-barb, I lick his tongue like it’s the sweetest thing in all the realms, I rub myself against him like I’m some pent-up kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing yet, and it all feels fucking fantastic. And he’s touching me too, his claws scratching my neck so super-gently while we kiss, his hands on my back, my hips — wowee, his hands on my ass! I want that, yes more—!

He palms my backside and pulls me tight to his body — fuck, he’s hard. He’s hard he’s hard he’s hard, I can feel him rubbing against my ladybits through his trousers — augh he’s still wearing trousers, fuck my life upside down!

I break from his kiss. “Take your trousers off,” I beg. “Just take them off already, all right? I need them off, I can’t — I really really want them off!”

“I’ll take them off. It’s all right,” he says in this dreamy calm-soothing voice, and his tail starts uncurling from around my thigh—

Fuck fuck fuck oh my gods yes his tail is sliding between my legs. It’s — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail, it’s sliding between my legs and stroking me as it unwinds from my thigh and oh my gods it feels so good, how am I supposed to survive—? “Mm ah fuck!”

His tail is gone. His arms are around me. “Was that okay?”

I am fucking gasping. “You tease,” I choke out.

He laughs, his lips close to mine. “Not a tease. I’m going to carry through, I promise.” Mmm, he’s kissing me again, he’s so fucking yummy, and he’s untying his trousers and I’m vibrating and I can hardly keep fucking still—

He pushes his trousers down and his cock is out. His cock, it’s hard, he’s hard — oh my god his cock. It’s gorgeous. I mean, it’s a cock, cocks are always a little funny-looking, I don’t know how folks who’ve got ‘em can cope with them, but Dammon’s is out and it’s gorgeous — fuck me yes he’s stroking it I want to do that.

I push his hand away, replace it with mine, and he gasps. “Ah—”

I kiss him. I’m stroking him, I’m walking him back toward the bed, he falls onto the bed and I’m climbing onto him and gasping into his mouth and stroking this thick pretty cock of his—

His hands are in my hair. “Karlach, slow down,” he gasps. “Slow down for a minute, all right?”

Fuuuck, fuck fuck, I can’t. No, I have to, I have to slow down for him. “Help me,” I beg. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s all right,” he pants, and he presses his horns to mine. “Just breathe with me for a second, okay?”

I nod. Breathe, I can do that, that’s totally something I can do. Just breathe. I close my eyes, I feel the sweet ridges of his horns against mine, I feel his breath tickling my lips because he’s breathing too, I feel — woah yes, that’s his tail. His tail-barb is tracing my lower spine, tracing lower still — eep he poked my bum!

I burst out a laugh. “You rotter!”

He laughs, too: fuck me, I adore his laugh. He’s laughing against my lips, his tail-barb is gliding down over my bum… oh fuck, it’s moving down to my thigh, around my thigh, drifting between my legs, is he going to—? Oh gods Dammon please yes!

“Yes!” I gasp — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail oh my gods I’m going to explode.

“Easy, Karlach,” he whispers. His hands cradle my neck, perfect callused hands, fuck his tail is petting me, caressing me, touching parts of me that I’ve been dreaming of being touched for years — ah yes that’s the fucking spot right there, right there fuck right there yes!

“Dammon,” I mewl — yes, I fucking mewled like a cat, I’m mewling and my back is arching like I’m a bitch in heat, but really? That’s exactly what I am. I’m in fucking heat for this man. I’m burning for him, burning for more of this, burning alive with his tail petting that red-hot little button of love. Dammon’s breathing hard, too, his fingers gripping my hair and his hips moving under me while his tail-barb does its work between my legs. It’s like he’s getting desperate too, so desperate that he can’t keep still while his tail is petting me, and I love that he’s getting desperate. I want him to unravel just like I’m doing now. I want to hear him moaning, I want to see him bucking his hips for more, I want — I want him so badly, I want this so much, it’s happening right now and I still want it like it’s out of my reach. How does that make any sense? Why am I longing for something while it’s happening right now, right here, with this insanely beautiful man I’ve been fantasizing about since I first clapped eyes on him?

Oh fuck, why am I getting emotional?

He strokes my hair. “Hey, are you okay?”

Oh gods, there’s a moan to his voice already. He’s breathing hard like he’s the one being touched, like he’s the one who’s getting tail-fucked more perfectly than even my best fantasies — ah, fuck me, his touch, the way his tail is rubbing my clit just right, it’s so — he’s so, so fucking perfect, he feels so right, this feels so right: Dammon’s hands in my hair, his body under mine, his tail petting my cunt and his lips breathing into mine… My gods, I’m so… he’s so, this is, I’m… fuck, I’m so close, I’m getting closer, I’m going to fucking blow I’m going to—

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesfuckmeican’tbreatheohmygods kiss me Dammon fucking kiss me—

His tongue in my mouth. Moaning, is that me or him? No idea, who cares, I’m a fucking inferno. Everything sparking, like lightning under my skin and scorching my throat in the best fucking way, all because of him.

His lips leave mine. His voice, husky and soft. “You all right?”

I whimper. Still vibrating. No words, can’t talk. Need him to fuck me.

He strokes my broken horn, strokes my cheek. “You’re burning blue, Karlach.”

I sure fucking am. Burning blue, burning alive in ways that I didn’t think I ever would again, and it’s all because of him. It’s all him, it’s Dammon — his sunshine smile, his jewel-pretty eyes the colour of a summer sky: I’m burning blue, all because of him.

I nuzzle his ear. “I’m going to ride you until you see stars, soldier.”

He laugh-moans. “Yes please. I’m all for that.”

He’d better be, because I can’t hold back now. I can’t do slow now. I am on, on-on-on like I’ve never been before, and I’m sitting upright on his lap and I’m stroking his cock while he grips my thighs — gods I want to taste him, I want his come in my mouth, no no I’ll save that for later, I need him inside of me right fucking now—

Fuck yes he’s inside me fuck yes. Dammon is inside of me, and he feels like fucking heaven.

He groans, and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. “Gods, Karlach!”

I take it back: hearing my name like that is the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I stroke his chest — beautiful chest, beautiful ridges of his ribs — then I brace myself on his abs and start fucking him hard.

He groans, arches his neck in a way that makes me want to bite him (ha, don’t tell Astarion!): oh, my sweet fucking gods, he feels amazing. His cock is driving into me so hard, so sweet and hard that I’m making noise with every stroke, and he’s making noise too and gripping my thighs — ah, his tail, it’s coiling around my forearm in a way that makes my tummy flutter, and his eyelids are fluttering too like he’s really letting loose, which I love to see. I love seeing him like this, I love seeing him looking as good as he makes me feel, and fuck does he ever make me feel good. His thick fucking cock, the hot driving punch of it reaching so deep… Holy fucking hells, I missed this, I missed it so fucking much, and it’s so much better than I remembered. Dammon’s solid body under mine, his strong smithy’s hands on my hips and thighs, his tail squeezing my arm like the way he holds my hand, and those eyes: his beautiful eyes, the way he’s watching me under his half-lidded eyes while I ride him like my life hinges on his cock… Fuck me, did it ever really feel like this? Was it ever really this good?

Wait, wait a second: was sex ever this fucking good before?

I’m staring at Dammon now. Just staring at this kind and gorgeous man who’s filling me up within an inch of my life, and I… I don’t know that it’s ever been like this. I don’t know that it ever has been this good before. Sex is always great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s never… My gods, it’s never been like this. It’s never felt so… so close. So right. Fuck, it’s never felt as right as it does right now with him — how fucking weird is that? We’re in an abandoned inn in a place that’s been cursed to the shadows for a hundred years, and it’s somehow the most right that I’ve ever felt while being naked with another soul.

Wait, though: it gets even weirder. I’m with Dammon, an infernal smith who I might never have even spoken to if it wasn’t for the engine in my chest — the engine that’s slowly burning me alive. If I didn’t have this damned thing in my chest, I wouldn’t be here with him. We wouldn’t be here together doing this.

I’m having the time of my fucking life right now with the most wonderful man I’ve ever met because of something that’s going to kill me.

No, no no no, stop it brain, don’t think about it—

“Hey.” He’s sitting up on one elbow — no, he’s pushing himself upright and reaching for my cheek. “Hey, hey now, are you okay—”

I kiss him. I shove my tongue into his mouth and grip his neck, and I fuck him like there’s no tomorrow. I fuck him like this is it, like this is the only chance we’ll have and I have to show him how much this means, how good this is and how good it is because of him, because it’s him, Dammon: it’s Dammon’s body under mine, and his hand and his tail holding me, it’s all him, and I need him to know that there’s nothing I wanted more in this world than to be with him.

He breaks from my lips with the most incredible groan. “Ah, Karlach—”

I nuzzle his ear. “I want you so bad, Dammon. I want you more than anything.”

He groans again — gods, if only you could bottle a noise and keep it for later. “I’m all yours. I promise.”

My gods, what a promise. What a thing to say, what a thing to hear from someone who’s so fucking good. And now I don’t know what to say, my tongue’s a knot, my throat’s getting thick — gods, just fuck him already, just wring the pleasure out of him like he did for you.

I fuck him. I’m riding him hard. I’m bouncing on his beautiful cock and staring at his beautiful face while it crinkles up with pleasure — come for me, Dammon, I want you to. I really want him to, I want his come more than anything in the world, I want him to let it all go inside of me — oh yes, good boy, he’s getting even harder, he’s getting harder inside of me oh my gods fuck I know he’s going to come—

“A-ah, please, y-yes—!” He kisses me, Dammon is kissing me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and his hand firm at the back of my neck, he’s shuddering and pulsing deep inside — yes, I can feel him giving me his come, and I want it all. I’m fucking hungry for it, for every last drop of him, every little bit of proof that this was me and him together: Dammon and Karlach, Karlach and Dammon, two hells-touched tieflings finding our little place of light among the shadows.

He breaks our kiss and presses his horns to mine again. “Gods,” he pants. “Gods alive. You are… incredible.” He laughs, this husky I’m-out-of-breath-because-I’ve-been-fucking kind of laugh, and I swear I’d give my unbroken horn to be able to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short it is.

He leans away a little and strokes my hair. “How are you feeling?”

Gods, look at him: he’s perfect. He said I was burning blue, but I swear on my life, his eyes are incandescent. They’re the brightest, most electric blue I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s like they’re scorching my soul, branding this amazing moment deep into me so that it’ll never be forgotten, no matter what comes next.

Fuck, I feel so full. I’m so… my chest, my throat, my entire fucking soul feels full. Oh no, my eyes feel full too, oh no — don’t do this, Karlach, don’t you dare.

“I—” Oh fuck, I’m sobbing. I’m sobbing? Why now, why?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here, it’s okay.” He’s tucking my head against his neck — oh my gods, I’m falling apart. He’s hugging me, his tail is stroking my back like he’s comforting a child, which is funny ‘cause I’m weeping like a baby. No, not weeping: I’m fucking bawling. That’s fantastic, Karlach, that’s just great, let’s just bawl all over the gorgeous smith while his cock is still in me.

Okay, that’s kind of funny, but… Fuck, I can’t stop crying. It’s all just coming out now, everything, all the stuff that’s been going on: the tadpole, my engine, the shadow curse and how fucking awful it is here, Lae’zel almost dying at the crèche and Mizora being a fucking bitch to Wyll and Astarion making his snarky little jokes like he’s not dead-scared of Cazador. I’m just fucking sobbing, I’m howling for me and them and everything, and more stuff keeps coming out: Gortash, Zariel, Avernus, Mum and Dad — everything, it’s just fucking everything, it’s all the things, so much shit I haven’t cried about for years, and it’s all coming out on poor Dammon because he’s hugging me.

Dammon is hugging me. He’s just hugging me while I cry all over him, hugging me tight like I haven’t been hugged in fucking years, and I don’t know if I can stop.

I do stop, eventually, when it feels like every tear in my body is on his neck instead of in my eyes. When I finally stop crying, he speaks. “Are you all right?”

Gods be damned, his soft voice, his hand petting my back… He’s going to make me cry again. “I’m okay,” I say. “Stuffy, but okay.” I lift my head — eurgh, yep, lots of tears and snot on his neck. Real attractive, Karlach, really sexy stuff.

“Sorry.” I wipe my face real quick and start wiping his neck. “Sorry. That’s gross. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “You needed that. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Oh hells, now he’s wiping my cheeks… Did someone make this man on purpose to turn me into the world’s meltiest puddle? He’s wiping my cheeks and looking at me in that so-soft way with his beautiful soft eyes… Oh boy, I’m a goner. If I wasn’t already all fluttery for him, I’m a total loss now.

He strokes my shoulder. “Do you have to head back to your camp?”

No way. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here with him and make this night last forever. Don’t say that, though, you’ll sound like a limpet. “I can stay for a while,” I say, all casual-like. “If you want, I mean. I — unless you have to sleep? You probably have to get up early for the forge—”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I can get up whenever, that doesn’t matter. Either way, if you — if you don’t have to get back, maybe…” He clears his throat — aw, he’s looking shy! Why is he looking shy? “Maybe you’d like to stay the night? With me, I mean?”

He wants me to stay? He wants me to stay! “Yes! I mean—” Oh gods, I’m laughing now. “Yes. I’d love to stay with you.”

He smiles — oh gods, that killer smile. He’s going to destroy me with that smile before the night is through, I swear. “Great! That’s — that’s really great. Okay.” He laughs a little and strokes my arm. “Maybe I can take my trousers off, if that’s okay with you?”

“Your—?” I twist around on his lap to look — ha, oh shit, his trousers are down around his calves, and he’s still wearing his boots!

I laugh and climb off of him. “You didn’t take them off? Bit eager, are we?”

“Me? You didn’t give me a chance! So much for slowing down.” He’s grinning now as he pulls off his boots, and he’s so damned pretty that all I can do is smile back at him. Gods, I really am a goner.

He drops his boots on the floor. He’s totally naked now, naked and warm and perfect, and I don’t want to waste another second not touching all of that perfect naked skin.

I straddle him and wrap my arms around his neck, and he smiles and strokes my hip. “Back for a second round already? I’m game, but I’ll need a little more time.”

I press my horns to his. “Dammon, I…” No, Karlach, don’t say it. Don’t tell him what you’re feeling, it’s way too soon. It is too soon, right? It’s too soon to know if this is just lust or if it’s something more, right? Something so much more, so much bigger that it feels like it’s filling my entire damn body… I can’t know yet for sure that this is what I think it is, can I? Fuck, I’m breathing all shaky. Stop it, K, don’t cry again, just don’t.

He strokes my neck — gods, his magical hands on my skin, I can’t get enough. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take your time. Talk when you’re ready.”

I nod, and I kiss him. For the dozenth time tonight, I’m kissing Dammon, melting under his soft lips and tasting his tongue and feeling every inch of my skin coming to life under his hands, and I can’t be fucking bothered with talking. Who cares about words or talking or even thinking when there’s this, when there’s him? Not me, that’s for sure. All that matters is being here with Dammon, skin-to-skin with him like all my hottest dreams, and I don’t give a shit about anything else.

Tonight, I’m burning blue for him. And that’s all that fucking matters.

[ezziefae]

Thoughts while reading The Prisoners Throne Excerpt

Here's a rushed annotation of some parts of the excerpt that really drew my attention. Jurdan fans be ready for many surprises.

"Imagine you have a weapon. They had been in Vivi’s second apartment, standing on a small metal balcony. Inside, Taryn and Vivi had been fussing over Leander, who was learning to crawl. The Ghost had asked about Oak’s training and been uninterested in the excuse that he was eleven, had to go to school, and couldn’t be swinging around a longsword in the common space of the lawn without neighbors getting worried."

(this is a flashback) Taryn’s child makes their first debut!! Taryn named the boy Leander. (I’m assuming its a boy name) Since the Ghost is in Vivi’s apartments could that be a hint that he’s romantically involved with Taryn? Or it could also be that he’s accompanied Taryn to protect her. It's super cool to see The Ghost and Oak training together.

"Oak had actually liked making his own sword. It was huge and black with a bright red hilt covered in demonish faces. It looked like the sword of someone in an anime he’d been watching, and he felt like a badass, holding it in his hands. The sight of Oak’s blade had made the Ghost smile, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he started moving through a series of exercises, urging Oak to follow. He told the prince should call him by his non‑spy name, Garrett, since they were friends."

Love that Holly is still referencing anime in the Elfhame series. Can we also talk about The Ghost’s character development? In TFOTA series he always kept to himself, and now he’s letting his closest friends call him by his real name.

"The prince has been imprisoned three weeks, according to the tallies he’s made in the dust beneath the lone bench. Long enough to dwell on every mistake he has made on his ill‑fated quest."

THREE WEEKS??? What the heck have Jude and Cardan been doing for three weeks??? I honestly expected for him to be rescued asap. If anything Jude and Cardan have been carefully planning to save oak and I guess that takes a lot of time. 

"His family must be in a panic right now. He trusts that Tiernan got Madoc to Elfhame safely, no matter what the redcap general wanted. But Jude would be furious with Tiernan for leaving Oak behind and even angrier with Madoc, if she guesses just how much of this is his fault."

I really want to see someone from Elfhame’s POV on Jude finding out on Oak being taken prisoner by Wren. I want to see a raging Jude. I’d be terrified to be in Tiernan’s place, since it was his job to protect Oak, and he failed that.

"Possibly Cardan would be relieved to be rid of Oak, but that wouldn’t stop Jude from making a plan to get him back. Jude has been ruthless on Oak’s behalf before, but this is the first time it’s scared him. Wren is dangerous. She is not someone to cross. Neither of them are."

OHH??? OHHH???? So many things are thrown at us here. Oak has a reason to believe that Cardan doesn’t like him??? To the point where Oak believes Cardan would even be RELIEVED to get rid of him? That was SUPER unexpected. Oak finally takes it in that neither Wren or Jude are people to cross. As much as I hate saying this, I want a Jude and Wren fight. That would be amazing. Not saying I want either of them to die, or get hurt, but that would be an intense scene. 

“I can do better,” he says. “And perhaps you might bring me a little gossip to cheer the chilly monotony of my days.” “You’re very silly, Your Highness,” she says after a moment, biting her bottom lip a little.

Oak is using his most dangerous power, seduction. Screaming. 

"He remembers Oriana’s warning to him when he was a child. A power like the one you have is dangerous, she said. You can know what other people most want to hear. Say those things, and they will not only want to listen to you. They will come to want you above all other things. The love that a gancanagh inspires—some may pine away for desire of it. Others will carve the gancanagh to pieces to be sure no one else has it."

I'm so glad holly is diving deep into this, We know that Locke also had this power, and how he was wielding it in TFOTA series. 

"That night, he wakes to the sight of a snake crawling down the wall, its black metal body jeweled and glittering. A forked emerald tongue tastes the air at regular intervals, like a metronome. It startles him badly enough for him to back up against the bars, the iron hot against his shoulders. He has seen creatures like it before, forged by the great smiths of Faerie. Valuable and dangerous. The paranoid thought comes to him that poison would be one straightforward way to solve the problem of his being held by an enemy of Elfhame. If he were dead, there’d be no reason to pay a ransom."

Oak sees this snake, and he immediately thinks it was sent from elfhame to kill him. Which is insane for him to believe that. 

"He doesn’t think his sister would allow it, but there are those who might risk going around her. Grima Mog, the new grand general, would know exactly where to find the prince, having served the Court of Teeth herself. Grima Mog might look forward to the war it would start. And, of course, she answered to Cardan as much as Jude."

"Not to mention there was always the possibility that Cardan convinced Jude that Oak was a danger to them both."

WHAT IS THIS DISAPPROVAL CARDAN HAS ON OAK?? The fact that Oak believes Cardan sent the snake to KILL HIMM, that's absolute madness. Like what the helll did this man do to Oak to make him feel this way?? Cryingggg. 

"It yawns widely enough for him to see silver fangs. The links of its body move, and a ring comes up from its throat, clanging to the floor. He leans down and lifts it. A gold ring with a deep blue stone, scuffed with wear. His ring, a present from his mother on his thirteenth birthday and left behind on his dresser because it no longer fit his finger. Proof that this creature was sent from Elfhame. Proof that he was supposed to trust it."

THIS IS THE RING THAT'S ON THE COVER!! Now we know what the ring means to Oak!!

“Prinss,” it says. “In three daysssss, you mussss be ready for resssss‑cue.” “Rescue?” Not here to poison him, then. The snake just stares with its cold, glittering eyes.

Okay so Jude sent a snake as a messenger to Oak, to let him know that they're coming to save him in three days. Cool….coool.

“Give me longer,” he says, no matter that it’s ridiculous to negotiate with a metal snake and even more ridiculous to negotiate for his own imprisonment, just in order to get a chance to speak with someone who refuses to see him. “Two more weeks perhaps. A month.”

THIS STUBBORN BOYYYYYY. Oh I know Jude would be absolutely furious for that.

"Oak slides the ring onto his pinkie finger, watching the snake as it coils its way up the wall. Halfway to the ceiling, he realizes that just because it wasn’t sent to poison him doesn’t mean it wasn’t sent to poison someone."

BIG MISTAKE MISTER SNAKE, BIGGGGG MISTAKEEEE.

He jumps onto the bench and grabs for it, catching the end of its tail. With a tug, it comes off the wall, falling against his body and coiling around his forearm. “Prinsssss,” it hisses. As it opens its mouth to speak, he notes the tiny holes in the points of its silvery fangs. When it does not strike, Oak pries the snake carefully from around his arm. Then, gripping the end of its tail firmly, he slams it down against the stone bench. Hears the cracking of its delicate mechanical parts. A gem flies off. So does a piece of metal. He whips it against the bench again.

Oak really said “oh hell no, you're not killing the women i love, nah uh,” and then proceeds to kill it in a very violent unsettling manner. Everyone was right when they said that Oak was like Madoc.

Straun spits on the floor in front of the prince’s cage. “No amount of gold or gems will save you. If my winter queen wants you to rot here, you’re going to rot.” “Your winter queen?” Oak repeats, unable to stop himself. The falcon looks a little shamefaced and turns to go back to his post. He’s young, Oak realizes. Older than Oak, but not by so very much. Younger than Hyacinthe. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Wren made such an impression on him. It shouldn’t bother Oak, shouldn’t fill him with a ferocious jealousy.

THE JEALOUSY HAS ME CACKLING. He was imprisoned, neglected in his cell by wren and yet he's jealous whenever someone else has lovey dovey eyes for wren. This man is so down for wren, and I don’t blame him. 

The Ghost taught him how to move stealthily, but he’s never been very good at it. He blames his hooves, heavy and hard. They clack at the worst possible times. But he makes an effort, sliding them against the floor to minimize noise.

Super cool to see how much The Ghost has impacted Oak's skills. The court of shadows in general has been a huge part in Oak’s training and it shows.

Oak moves fast, jerking Straun backward and covering his nose and mouth with the cloth. The guard struggles, but inhaling blusher mushroom slows his movements. Oak presses him to the floor until he’s unconscious.

THERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Welp, The excerpt ends in Oak escaping his cell…..after all thar chaos i've become too impatient. Just 3 Months until this book comes out !!! 

[snowywolf1005]

A nika x lunala reader where they are battling some enemies but they didn't realise that tonight is when a blood moon appears and reader goes berserk on her foes and she is still full of rage after the fight and nika trys to calm her down by being goofy and silly and trying to make her laugh so she can revert back to her normal state.

Ohhh! This gonna be fun!

"Air slash!" Lunala slashed her enemies. And someone next to her is nika, her lover. "You doing great, love!" Nika, kiss her bat cheeks.

Lunala blush a little, "kill them! Don't let them free the slaves!" People charge at Lunala and nika both.

But they didn't know that the blood moon is rising. Someone throws a spears at nika but transforms her human self, the spears stab lunala right arm.

"Lunala!" Nika grab Lunala, "Hey, Hey, everything is okay!" He said. Then Lunala saw the blood, her eyes turned red, and her hair turned red. Red smoke room around her.

Transforming her blood moon bat form, everyone is stund, even nika.

(Nika was blushing)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Lunala let out a screch of roar. Everyone was terrified as shit, nika got distracted by her badass form that looked sexy.

And she started killing everyone. Lunala goes on full-on rage, "Oh, shit! My lover became badass! I gonna stop her before she goes shit!" Nika shouted.

"Kill her!" Nika freaked out and tried to stop them, lunala Flys away. Nika stretches his arm and wraps around lunala Bat Form body.

"Hey, love, can you please come back to me!" Nika, please, but she ignores him and tries to get rid of him. "Woah! Calm down!"

Then he had a bright idea, "Lunala! Look at me!" Lunala, look at nika and see he making funny faces to bring her back. But it isn't working at little.

Then, Lunala is coming back, "That's it, here look at this!" Nika make another funny faces. "Hahaha!!!" Lunala, come back to herself. Nika has a tear on his eyes as he hugs Lunala.

"You're back!" He cried, Lunala transformed her human self, and Nika was amazed at Lunala beauty of her new form. "Do I look bad?" Lunala ask.

Nika was stund by her word,"What?! No! You look amazing, beautiful, like a new version of yourself!" Said nika, Lunala face turn red.

lunala and nika kiss.

Hey, guys! If you want Joyboy x luna reader, ask!

[lisimcpisi]

omg you guys Bumblebee is such an underrated movie and I do not see as much hype for it as it should get

I specifically wanna talk about the scene where Charlie and Bumblebee meet for the first time because ohhh man does it give the warm fuzzies

I never really got into the bayverse movies mostly cuz of the amount of action and violence that I was never a fan of. I always gravitated more towards the story/character-based aspects of TF. So having such an intimate scene between Charlie and Bee hit all the right notes for me

For one thing, it's so jarring, but in a kinda good way, to see Bumblebee's drastic change in personality and demeanor. In the opening scene on Cybertron (which is so badass btw), Bumblebee is this snarky, skilled badass warrior, and despite losing his voicebox and having multiple injuries, he's still able to completely annihilate Blitzwing on Earth. And then here, we see that same bot but with lost puppy energy. He's scared, hides away from Charlie, with the biggest adorable eyes in the world. He doesn't even try to run away and like smash a wall through the garage. He just stays backed up in the corner, watching Charlie.

literally everything that happens once Bumblebee leans into Charlie's hand is so fucking adorable and sweet. Charlie just speaking to bee with the most gentle, calming voice so she won't scare him. Bee just staring at Charlie, whether out of fascination or just being glad this new creature won't hurt him.

AND CHAR GIVING BEE HIS NAME AHHHH I love how Bee just shakes his head when Charlie asks what his name is. He legit just doesn't know if he had a name at all or if he was nameless to begin with (well technically he was just referred to as B-127 but thats not a real name). And the way he just curls up and looks away in embarassment because he can't answer her. It's kinda sad to have an iteration of Bee where he visibly struggles to communicate. Because in the movies and Cyberverse Bee has his radio, and in tf Prime and rescue bots he can still talk through his beeping morse code thing and the bots can understand him fine. But here, he can just produce small whirring and buzzing sounds, and can only communicate through physical gestures and you can kinda see him using his mouth plate thingy to mimic what he wants to say, like when he says "You" when asking who Charlie is. So it's obvious why he's so happy whenever Charlie manages to understand him.

I love the way he perks up when Charlie decides his name. You can almost kinda hear him say "Bumblebee?" through his whirring sounds. And the final shot with Charlie and bee just looking at each other through the garage window is so beautiful as the score wells up. You can tell that despite what Bee has lost, he's glad to have a friend who gave him a home and a name.

[see-arcane]

I think you came close to real issue. Adaptations do not center on Jonathan and always somehow misrepresent him is because majority of male directors-screenwriters, adapting Dracula, associate themselves more not with Jonathan but with Dracula or Van Helsing. And it didn't begin with Coppola. It began with Murnau where his Hutter doesn't kill vampire and can't save his wife but instead it's his wife Ellen who dies to kill vampire. Then it's Browning who made Van Helsing into cool main hero who kills Dracula, while Jonathan is again useless in the movie. It's Fisher who kills Jonathan off at the start of the movie and again makes Van Helsing into cool main hero, who kills Dracula. So by the time 1970s rolled out and romantic versions of Dracula began to heavily pop up, Jonathan as character on screen was already heavily downgraded.

This honestly hits on something that unhappily fascinates me about the whole pattern. Unlike other stories that see adaptation, however classic or modern, I think the Dracula issue is the only one I can think of where a male main character--one of the two married protagonists! the guy who actually opens and closes the entire story! including beheading Dracula himself!--gets so thoroughly watered down, warped, or often just thrown out of the story entirely. Mina's treatment is unfortunately very much expected.

She is LAST GIRL STANDING. She is NOT ICKY SLUT-LUCY WHO LEADS THREE MEN ON EWWW. She is SO INTO HUNKY HE-MAN DARK PRINCE COUNT FUCKULA and doesn't mind the castle harem or the best friend assault or terrorized/deadified husband whatever who cares.

Mina's character-butchering hell is sadly a running theme in a lot of Classics! Now with (Off-Brand Hollywoodified) Feminism (tm)*!

*She is now simultaneously Mom to a bunch of rowdy dumb-boys and the hot anti-villain wants to do the sex with her so bad and it's sooo tempting because hot anti-villain is sooo much more forward-thinking than these icky Victorian guys ha ha

But Jonathan's situation is unique.

Because Jonathan is broken down for parts.

His sweet ingenue gothic heroine time in Castle Dracula is routinely handed over either to a stand-in (Renfield ala the original Dracula movie) or Random Damsel seen on every book and movie and comic book cover. Because you can't have a man in that situation. And if you do, shovel him out of the story immediately once the hetero-sexy part is over with, ala the Brides closing in. Maybe make him an unfaithful piece of shit who is SO down to ditch boring old Mina for the undead harem.

His stamp as a rightful nemesis-turned-badass vampire hunter is stolen and given to Van Helsing, including his kukri, including the defeat and beheading of Dracula.

His devotion and love for Mina to the point of blasphemy and inhumanity is ripped away and given to Dracula to romanticize and sexify him, which in turn defangs the Count himself. 'Ohhh I just did all this evil because I was depressed and looking for my Love~ :'c' rather than him being one of the most insidiously engaging and chilling villains in classic storytelling.

And all of that implies that writers and directors do like the character of Jonathan Harker...so long as he's split into pieces with the husk that once contained all those facets quickly discarded.

Because if they have to portray Jonathan Harker in his totality, with all his kindness, his femininely coded introduction, his trauma after assault, his adoration of Mina beyond human measure, and his ultimate conquering of Dracula the Monster/Abuser (their idolized macho surrogate) then that does something unthinkable.

That portrays men like Jonathan Harker in a heroic light. In a positive light, period. This milksop! This sweet, loving, bookish, preyed-upon, afraid-then-fierce, walking talking knife-swinging wall-crawling middle finger to the whole idea of the fantasy people project onto Dracula (read: Megabadass Immortal Vampire Man who gets Allll the Ladies Who Totally Wanted It/Had that Victorian Slave Leia routine coming~)! We can't put that on screen!

So what happens, happens.

And Jonathan Harker continues to be harvested for parts without ever, ever getting to be all of himself in a retelling. If he shows up at all.

[ominashii]

'v' ello there! what are aspects about your characters that notably stand out to you specifically? be it something you personally love or whatnot

ohhh boy i haven't gotten to yap about em on here in a WHILE lemme go down the list, this is gonna be long

Omi? They're adorable, and they know it. They look and act very disarming, but they're still very clever, secretive, and mischievous, with a whole separate, more serious side to em. Plus they're really fun to write given they're both illiterate, and can't lie outright. (half-fey) They're just a bundle of fluff and mysteries~

Kiari? She's a (partially) insane, immortal catgirl that loves cats, girls, hunting, and killing. She's brutally honest, extremely sassy, and changes moods at the drop of a hat. She's THE most fun to write for by far. Plus, its interesting to write the perspective of someone who's lived countless years while their mind Was Not Built for it. How have her morals shifted? How much has her sanity eroded? What is she willing to put up with to keep herself entertained? What value does a life have to her? Always thinking about this for her.

Shiri has been on the backburner as of late, but his main appeal is his lack of expressive emotion. He'll make frequent puns and jokes, subtle references, and poke at some tropes, but it's all delivered with the same deadpan tone of voice. Likewise, nothing really phases him much, and his expression rarely changes. It goes a bit deeper, but that's part of what's in progress. He looks cold and badass, but he's kind of a dork. It's great.

Viola I'll go off her previous self (Psionic mage), since her current lore is hard to work with. She's a bookworm through and through, but likes to mess with people sometimes. The most fun for me is her subtleties. She's similarly deadpan as Shiri, but much more snarky when you examine her words. She'll pretend to read out fake articles for an extremely specific problem. She has a second voice underneath her own that sometimes says something different, inducing a headache in the listener. She changes hairstyles often to look cuter, making no mention of it. She appears as a different species to every individual. It's so much fun.

She also has Several alters, but that would be a post of its own.

Juliet, disposable random lobotomy corp employee promoted to full OC status. She's a proper tomboy, mentor/big sister figure, and skilled at what she does, but very carefree. I never had anyone like her before, and she's so much fun! Her dynamic with Pallene is especially cute, but they're both still relatively new.

Mimi. Fluffy space critter. They're as close to my heart as Omi, and have twice as many mysteries. Their design would be one of the standouts here, since they have no mouth. Instead, they communicate telepathically with a slightly broken english (or, canonically, whatever the listener's primary language is), which is really cute~ Then there's their big eyes and ears. They carry all the expression, and its really really fun to draw different emotions with em. Plus, black sclera & white pupils on a friendly lil critter like this is nice! The other standout would be their very inquisitive nature. They don't know anything! They're constantly curious about people and the world around em! And they're always so happy to learn!

I could go on and on, but it'll just turn into describing everyone at length, and putting these thoughts together takes tiiime

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Sixth Language (part 1)

Pairing: Waxer x Fem!Reader (single parent)

Rating: T 

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings and tags: pure fluff; mild language; reader is a foodie

Read the full series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“Ohhh, I don’t know, Nyra,” you say hesitantly. “It sounds a little—”

“Amazing?” your best friend interrupts. “Perfect? Once-in-a-lifetime?”

“Risky,” you say as you pull an assortment of veggies out of the conservator and set them on your kitchen counter to start prepping dinner.

“How is it risky?” Nyra demands, her indignant face flickering in the blue glow of your holocom. “I think the clones have proven by now that they are good, honorable men, and even if they weren’t, the agency has strict screening protocols.”

“It’s not that,” you reply. “It’s just that Kaia is old enough now that she is likely to get attached, and what happens if things don’t work out? I don’t want to break her little heart.”

“So don’t introduce her until you feel like things will work out,” Nyra says. You shoot her a grumpy look as you start to chop the vegetables with more force than is strictly necessary.

“What are you cooking?” she asks, momentarily distracted.

“Roasted lamta soup,” you reply, hoping she’ll drop the subject. “Kaia’s favorite.”

“Can I have some?” she asks nonchalantly.

“I’ll bring some for lunch tomorrow, but only if you stop bugging me about the other thing,” you say.

“I thought you were pro-clone,” Nyra says.

“You know I am! I supported CRPA just like you. That doesn’t mean I have time, energy, or inclination to date one,” you reply.

“I don’t get it,” Nyra says. “You could at least test the waters, have a little fun, flirt with a hot trooper or three. Or is Kaia’s heart not the only one you’re worried about?”

“The last thing I need is another child to raise,” you say. “Every guy I've dated since I had Kaia has either been scared off by the fact that I'm a single parent, or has fetishized me as a MILF.”

“I mean, you are a bit of a MILF,” Nyra jokes with an exaggerated wink. “I'd do you.”

“You are too kind,” you say drily, “but Kaia and I are fine just the way we are.”

“I know you are,” she says. “You're a badass and an amazing mom, and Kaia is lucky to have you. But you deserve nice things, sweetie.”

“Do you think I'm going to find nice things at some dating service?” Your tone is sharper than you intend, but Nyra is unfazed.

“It's not a dating service. It's a matchmaking service. As in, they do extensive research and find someone who matches your lifestyle, goals, and priorities.”

“Right, and nobody ever lied so they could get their dick wet,” you retort.

“You should talk to a therapist about your trust issues,” Nyra says. “Believe me when I say the clones don't need a matchmaking service to find a hookup. The ones who are using it are looking for something meaningful. Besides, when have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Many times!” you exclaim. “So, so many times. Remember when we were on Canto Bight, and you told me—”

“An aberration,” Nyra interrupts hastily. “Trust me, babe, this is no gamble. What do you have to lose?”

Which is how you find yourself sitting across a conference table from Tarsi Renda, a representative of the Right to Love Matchmaking Service, with a strained, overly enthusiastic smile pasted on your face. Tarsi is brisk and businesslike, but she seems friendly enough. She asks you an endless litany of questions about yourself, your background, your work, your personal goals, your hobbies, and so on.

“And what is it that you’re looking for in a partner?” she asks.

This is such a terrible idea. Damn you, Nyra!

“Er, I’m not entirely sure,” you confess. “I suppose the most important thing is kindness. Someone patient and gentle.”

“Sense of humor?” she asks.

“Yes, of course,” you say. Has anyone in the galaxy ever said they’d prefer a partner who had no sense of humor? “But not the kind of humor that depends on putting other people down.”

Tarsi scribbles something onto her notepad. “Good with children?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. That part is non-negotiable. 

You haven’t mentioned Kaia. You know you probably should, but your prior experiences make you shy away from sharing too much of yourself, and you’ll be damned if you put your daughter at risk without knowing exactly who you’re going to be matched with.

“Just a few more questions,” she says. “What made you seek out Right to Love’s services?”

My bestie harangued me until I agreed to try it out just to get her to shut up, you think.

“A friend recommended it to me,” you reply. “I’ve had some bad dating experiences, and she thought I might have better luck if I had help screening the—er…”

“Applicants?” Tarsi supplies helpfully.

“That makes it sound a little crass,” you admit.

“That’s all right. After all, we are screening you, too,” Tarsi says with a twinkle in her eyes. “The clones have been through enough as it is; the last thing we want to do is match them with someone who only sees them as playthings.”

“I definitely am not looking for a plaything,” you say with a shudder.

“Have you ever met a clone?” she asks.

“Um, no,” you confess. “I’ve only seen them on the holonews.”

“I see,” she says, scribbling another note, and you wonder if you’ve failed some sort of test. “Right, well, I think I have everything I need. I’ll be in touch with an update within the next few weeks.”

Tarsi stands and extends a hand to shake yours, and it’s clear that you’re being dismissed. You gather your things and thank her for your time, then leave the building, feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. You hadn’t been exactly enthusiastic about the idea of using a matchmaking service, but it still stings to realize that you don’t measure up. You shrug off your self-doubts and head to pick up Kaia from daycare, determined not to let the experience ruin your day.

The next few weeks are incredibly busy at work, and you soon forget all about RTL. And then one afternoon, you get home from work and find a message indicator blinking on your comlink. It’s from Tarsi, and she says she’s found a potential match—when would be a good time for you to meet up?

One late morning a few days later, you wait at the designated meeting place outside one of Coruscant’s sprawling open-air markets. You are more nervous than you should be. It’s just a date, after all. It’s not like you’re signing your life away. Your hands are sweaty, and you smooth them across the fabric of your dress to dry them off. It took forever to figure out what to wear, and you still aren’t entirely convinced that a sundress was the best option. You wanted to wear something cute, but now you wonder if it makes you look like you are trying too hard.

Damn it, this is the worst idea I’ve ever had. Why did I agree to this? I can’t believe I’m paying a babysitter just so I can go on a stupid date. I should go home. I’ll pick up some takeout on the way, and Kaia and I can go to the park. This is so stupid, I should just—

Your spiraling thoughts are interrupted when a deep, smooth voice calls your name. You turn automatically, and your mouth goes dry when you see the speaker.

Holy maker.

You know what the clones look like, thanks to the holonews, but most of the time you’ve seen them, they’ve either been in full armor or too far away to get a good look. RTL Matchmaking had sent you a holo of your match, but it had been a stiff, formal headshot, probably pulled from some official database. You are totally unprepared for the reality of the man standing in front of you.

He is tall and impossibly broad, with rich brown skin and the softest eyes you’ve ever seen. His head is shaved, but there’s a shadow of scruff on his jaw, and a small patch of facial hair below his distractingly full bottom lip.

“Yes?” you ask, snapping your eyes up to meet his gaze and hoping he didn’t notice you ogling his mouth.

“I’m Waxer,” he says with an easy smile that makes his lovely, honey-colored eyes crinkle.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you manage, suddenly very glad that you hadn’t bailed on the date and gone home early.

You shake his hand, which feels weirdly formal, but you’ve never gone on a blind date before, and you aren’t sure about the etiquette. His hands are large and warm, and they engulf yours, making you feel small and delicate. He seamlessly draws your hand to his forearm as the two of you begin walking, and you have to admire the smoothness of his game.

“I’ve never been to one of these markets before,” he observes. “What made you choose this place to meet up?”

You probably shouldn’t tell him that you picked it because there were plenty of witnesses around if he turned out to be a creep, and that it’s nice and crowded and easy to disappear in if you decide to abandon ship.

“It’s one of my favorite places on Coruscant,” you say instead, and it’s not even a lie. “I love being able to see all the different foods from across the galaxy, and there are so many amazing artists who sell their work here, too.”

“Which ones do you like best?” he asks, and that’s all it takes.

The two of you wander through the twisting pathways of the market, eating ice cream and tasting samples of food from all of the different vendors. Waxer is fearless, and he is willing to try anything, including foods even you aren’t brave enough to taste. Some he hates, and some he loves, and he always convinces you to try the ones he likes. As he feeds you a bite of klak, his fingers brush against your lips, warm and soft, and you gasp a little at the sensation as sparks of awareness dance across your skin.

“Good?” he asks.

“It’s delicious,” you say to cover your reaction to him. “You should try a bite.”

The two of you talk and talk, and he tells you about all the different planets he’s visited, while you tell him about growing up on your home planet and what it was like to move to Coruscant for work. The conversation flows effortlessly, and the more you learn about Waxer, the more intrigued you become.

The market is endlessly fascinating to him, and he takes it all in with wide eyes. “We were never allowed in these places during the war. I can’t believe how many kinds of food there are here!”

“A whole galaxy’s worth,” you say. “People come to Coruscant from all over, and they bring their food culture with them. If you like seafood, you should visit Little Mon Cala sometime. There’s a little hole-in-the-wall place that serves the best chowder this side of Trask.”

“Maybe we should go there on our next date,” Waxer says with a charming smile.

“Oh, are we having another?” you ask flirtatiously.

“I would like that very much,” he says, and you’re almost startled by the sincerity in his voice. 

You’re so accustomed to people playing games or hiding their true intentions that Waxer’s straightforwardness throws you off balance.

“I would, too,” you reply, realizing that it’s true.

Before you register how many hours have passed, it’s late afternoon, and you need to get back home before the babysitter’s fee bankrupts you. You and Waxer exchange comm details, and when you say goodbye, he is a perfect gentleman. He doesn’t even try to kiss you, which is fine. Totally fine. Not disappointing at all.

You return home in an excellent mood, and Kaia is delighted to see you. You scoop her up and squeeze her into a tight hug that makes her squeal with excitement, and once the babysitter departs, you put your favorite song and dance around your apartment with your sweet little giggling girl. She babbles endlessly at you as she tells you all about her big day, which apparently involved several arts and crafts activities, as well as a truly epic session of play pretend, judging by the astonishing number of dolls strewn about the apartment.

You tidy up as Kaia eats her dinner, and even though your cynical brain warns you that it’s too early to get excited, you can’t quite suppress the little thrill of hope in your heart whenever you think about Waxer.