#she should be allowed to wear clothes that she actually likes and not pushing through mental discomfort

[shiraishi--kanade]

My most controversial pjsk opinion is that I genuinely dislike An's wedding event but I very specifically hate this writing choice.

The in-universe justification for this is Shizuku being taller than An but oh my god. An is just so uncomfortable for most of the entire event in that outfit. She was so excited about wearing a tuxedo as well and basically was shot down when bringing that up. This actually hurts my soul a bit

[girlgroupshots]

[M]Texting (AESPA Winter)

pairing: winter x reader rating: m for mature word count: 508 summary:  everyone has been noticing winter’s texting habits. if only they knew who she was texting and what it really involved. author’s note: commission that i was allowed to post publicly. if you are interested in a commission feel free to check the links in the header or profile! 

DING!

At the sound of a new message alert you glanced down at your phone. Seeing the name BUNNY you immediately knew who it was. It took you just a second to type in your passcode and retrieve the message and another second for your mouth to go slack as you read it.

                    BUNNY: i’m not wearing any panties.

Quickly you typed out a response.

                    YOU: aren’t you live right now??

                    BUNNY: maybe…

You disregarded what you had been doing, immediately switching to instagram as you pulled up the livestream. Sure enough, there Minjeong was, seated between two other members of her group. Of course, to the naked eye, no one would assume she was without underwear but as she stared at the camera it felt like she was making eye contact and looking directly at you.

You watched as she pulled out her phone and soon enough another message alert came through.

                    BUNNY: i’m using that toy we bought…

                    BUNNY: the one with the app…

Your mind was racing at what she was alluding to. The toy she was referring to was a vibrator that your partner could control via an app. Did she really want you to use that now?

                    YOU: are you serious?

                    BUNNY: yes?

For a second you considered your options but in the end it was no real choice at all. You pulled up the app, the video shrinking to the corner as you did so. As you set it to the lowest setting, you watched the video, waiting to see if Minjeong would react. When she remained with her well-practiced smile and continued to converse with her members you took it as a challenge.

“Okay, let’s see how you handle this.”

You turned it up two notches. This time you watched as Minjeong shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes briefly darting to the screen. To the uninitiated it would be nothing of note. But you knew better.

With a devilish smile you dragged the wave on the app so it would alternate vibrations. Having not used the app before, you didn’t know how well it would actually work. Eagerly you looked to the livestream, seeing Winter squeeze her thighs tighter together, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” you could hear Giselle asking.

“Y-yeah! I was thinking, should we try a different filter?” Minjeong responded.

You chuckled to yourself. The knowledge that beneath her clothing she was a dripping mess while she desperately tried to remain composed only encouraged you to push the limits further. However, you might have been a little over-eager.

You turned up the intensity on the device and on screen, Karina gave a sudden glance at Minjeong.

“Shit!”

You quickly turned down the intensity. Whoops. It helped that Karina knew about your relationship but that didn’t mean you should be that daring.

As you debated whether you’d be able to make Minjeong orgasm while on camera, the articles were already forming online about your girlfriend’s texting. Well, better that than if they knew the truth.

[hecksupremechips]

Can we talk about mitsuham I think we should talk about mitsuham yes I’d like that very much

Imagine Mitsuru her life has been planned out for her by a bunch of men her choices are not hers to make every move is political she is nothing but a tool forced to fight as a child never allowed to burden anyone with her feelings. Her life isn’t hers, it’s never been hers for a second, she exists to further the careers of the men around her. The first two friends she makes are both boys and she was in charge of leading them, using them just to further the Kirijo agenda. Genuine friendship did blossom between them, but things fell apart pretty quickly. Shinjiro can’t control Castor, something is seriously wrong with him, he kills someone, then he leaves and the Kirijos cover it up. Was it to protect him, or to protect themselves? Mitsuru certainly doesn’t know anymore but she’s lost a friend and can’t reach him again, he’s too traumatized by personas and Akihiko is still there but he’s always so stuck on Shinjiro and Mitsuru feels like she failed both of them. Just more men for her to let down by not being good enough

Then there’s Kotone. Sweet, strong, clumsy, talented Kotone. She’s so bubbly and friendly, but behind those warm smiles is horrible loneliness. Pain. But she’s never ever gonna let anyone see that. She busies herself by taking care of everyone else, listening to their problems and never burdening them with her own feelings. She can just fix everything and make everyone happy if she works herself hard enough. She just has this way about her, so reliable and so kind

And Mitsuru watches Kotone from above. Trusts her to be the leader, or maybe she just wanted to push a burden onto someone else for a change. Someone who’s able to take on burdens with a smile for fucks sake. And Kotone leads, seemingly effortlessly, and is able to recruit several members in a short time and achieve just so much more than Mitsuru could in her entire lifetime. Just, perfectly. Without even possessing any prior knowledge of the dark hour or personas. And she does this while being so emotional, so social, so weird, so fucking cute, it’s absolutely nauseating. This should be fine, right? It’s what Mitsuru’s always wanted, for someone else to ease her burden. And hell, it’s a woman too, a woman who’s perfectly capable of doing it all without a bunch of men helping her. It’s inspiring, isn’t it?

But there’s the pain. The envy. Kotone is perfect and she doesn’t even have to try. Mitsuru on the other hand has been shaving herself down to nothing just to be allowed a place. She makes the perfect grades and wears the beautiful clothes and applies the fucking makeup and is mature for her age and never speaks out or feels anything that could possibly make her be seen as a human, a filthy fucking human. So why does a woman as unashamed as Kotone get to have it all? And why is Mitsuru still here, still acting as the Kirijo tool, still doing whatever she possibly can to hurt herself to make a man feel better? Why isn’t she useful anywhere? It’s not fair

And then when she actually spends the time with Kotone she’s trying so hard to be that wise and mature figure she’s always been, trying so hard to force herself to smile through the pain, but she’s talking to someone who can see right through that shit cuz Kotone Shiomi invented lying through her teeth to make others feel better. It’s annoying really, how Kotone is supposed to be the childish one, yet it’s Mitsuru who can’t get it together and can’t seem to look into those bright eyes without breaking. And Kotone isn’t disgusted by what she sees, even though Mitsuru is being unreasonable and emotional and talking about wanting to run away and how much she hates her life and how she’s not only eating fast food but enjoying it, letting herself enjoy an indulgence that won’t make her pretty anymore. No, Kotone sees this and listens and encourages it and celebrates it, celebrates how utterly human Mitsuru is. She holds her hand and says "let me take on your burden". And it’s horrible, this kindness, Mitsuru hasn’t even broken all her bones to make Kotone happy, so why is she being so fucking nice? And then something breaks, and Kotone defends her. Stands up for her against a man. Lets herself once again take a hit to protect someone else. And it’s just too familiar, too much to fucking bear, and it pisses Mitsuru the fuck off. And she is able to tell a man to go fuck himself, because no one gets to fucking talk to this girl like she isn’t the most amazing person ever to exist. Not after everything she’s done, everything she still does, not after giving her all and never once asking for anything in return. And in standing up for Kotone, Mitsuru is able to stand up for herself for the first time in her life. And she looks at Kotone and says "let’s take on each other’s burdens"

Oh and also they watch a scary movie together and hold hands and ride a motorcycle and Mitsuru calls Kotone adorable I mean that’s pretty gay man

[tarithenurse]

The Bathhouse

Fandom: MCU (AU) Pairing/starring: Jotun!Loki x Fem!Jotun!reader Content: Non-gender-segregated bathhouse, a bit of fluff and pining, smut, a smidgen of female heat, loss of virginity, naivety, mostly some sort of smut (though not P-in-V...this time). A/N: So this is actually from something else I’m working on just for myself but it had vibes that I thought I could use for some fun with Loki. Betaed by the lovely TanteFrutsel-CreativeNurse!

The Bathhouse

It has been a long day and you’re tired but even so you sneak past your friends’ doors at the inn and make your way down the stairs where the innkeeper is sitting with his book. A sideways glance reveals that it’s a volume of “Tusk Love” which you’ve never heard of.

Out onto the street and past the darkening homes, you can’t help but clutch at the concealed daggers although you feel surprisingly at home here in Utgarde. It’s just...it’s a new place and recent events have grown deep roots. It doesn’t make it easier that you feel like a stranger in your own body what with the delicate changes of the heat.

Living as long as Jötunn do, nature has decided to play a cruel trick on the females and only allow them to be fertile once every century... the heat, as this period is called, lasts for at least half a year in which they have to deal with several physical changes.

Reaching the bathhouse, the place looks closed and you are dubious when you push on the door but it swings inwards, allowing you entry to the antechamber with the reception where a flustered matron stands, wringing her hands and with curlers in the hair as though she’s been roused from bed and barely had time to dress.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she snips, “but we’re closed.”

“I was told to come.”

Before you can give more of an explanation a voice comes from the beyond the arches where the springs are: “She’s here on my behest.”

You continue into the changing area with the woman trailing behind, complaining quietly.

“Now leave us, please.” Loki sounds bored but authoritative, stirring something in you. It could be his demeanour or his rank, either way the matron leaves, pointing at a stack of towels on her way out.

The changing room has a series of smaller cubicles for private disrobing as well as a low bench snaking through the area. On the one end closest to the bath is a bunch of familiar clothes folded neatly and with a set of daggers lying on top.

Undressing, you discard your own weapons too although a knot forms in the belly at the idea of being unarmed. Then you grab a towel and wrap it around your torso before proceeding past the archway.

There’s a lot more steam than during the daytime when you would normally visit as though the springs run hotter at night. The sulphuric scent mingles with that of sweet incense burning in a pot to the side. That wasn’t there last time. Loki is resting in his true form in the water at the far side of the pool, facing the entry directly, and he lifts a dripping and muscular arm to wave at the newcomer.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits.

And I’m not sure I should stay, you think. Still, you step forward, stepping into the bath wearing nothing but a short swath of fabric that you find entirely inadequate in spite of Jötunn traditions but at least it covers the most important bits. Loki isn’t shy to look, his red gaze travelling your form before meeting your own faintly glowing eyes and remaining there until you’re sat down, towel soaking up the water, making it cling to your body.

You sigh. The hot spring really lives up to its name. With eyes closed you dip down below the surface to wet your hair.

Upon resurfacing, you keep your eyes shut as you wipe the water from your face. “Now tell me...what brings me here?” you shrug blindly, unsure of what else to say but it turns out any more sentences probably wouldn’t have made it past your lips as the god cups your face with a hand and kisses your softly.

*SLAP*

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, caused more by bafflement than anger or fear and the moment your palm impacts with his cheek, you regrets it.

“Sorry!” you blurt simultaneously, leaving the other gaping.

You have rarely been the type that dreamed about kissing etc but this development is very far from anything you could have ever imagined. Shifting uncomfortably where you sit, you glance over at your friend and find that he has moved away and turned his back to you completely, fingers gripping the black tresses tightly.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats under his breath.

As he mutters, you get up and slowly moves over, stretching out a hand to settle on his shoulder which makes him freeze under the touch. “No...I shouldn’t have...you just surprised me, is all.”

Turning and grabbing your hand as it falls, there’s a desperation in the god’s eyes that you don’t understand but you find nothing threatening there and so don’t back away when he closes the distance one careful step at a time.

He breathes heavily, hungrily. “I should leave.”

“Oh alright...but why?”

“It’s your...your scent...it changes when you’re in heat,” he grits out but stays put, still clutching your hand.

Holding your breath as if that could help, you consider everything you know about the nature of the heat you’re going through but you cannot recall anyone ever telling you about this effect.

“Does it...hurt you?” you ask naively.

A shiver passes through Loki from the top of his head and down, carrying with it your gaze which lands on something you have never seen before and you instinctively know that this is not meant for you to gaze upon. Snapping your eyes shut, warmth rising to your face, all the awkward lessons at school come rushing into your mind although they are coloured by something new now. Curiosity. Desire. Something within you is calling back, responding to the god’s desperation.

“No,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re are absolutely not hurting me...far from.”

“Then...is there anything I can do?”

“Tell me to leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

Loki closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head so slightly you almost miss it. When he opens them again he looks at you and asks,“Let me kiss you one last time?”

You have barely nodded before his mouth is upon you, stealing a kiss and your breath. Strong hands cup your face, tilting your head gently to allow him better access as his tongue sweeps the seam of your lips which automatically part.

After a second of flailing, you grab hold of him, pulling you closer together in spite of the prodding to your lower abdomen. You need the support or you would lose all sense of balance, of up and down...but soon enough your hands begin to wander, skating over his broad shoulders and down his back, teasing a new ripple to be released and pucker the blue skin under which his muscles bunch taut as if he’s restraining himself physically.

Then, just as sudden as he’d begun, Loki releases you and steps back several paces, leaving you with your arms stretched out before you, trying to reach him.

Something more than blood is coursing through your veins, throbbing at your core. You don’t quite understand it but you know one thing: you want more.

“[Y/N],” he gasps for breath, “this isn’t what I had planned.”

“I believe you.”

You move up to him once more and this time you’re the one to glide a hand around his neck, pulling him down for a new kiss which he gladly gives into for a moment before lifting his head up against your grip with a soft groan.

“Are you sure?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” you mumble against his lips.

The strong Jotunn guides you to the edge of the pool, carefully removing the towel and lifting you up until you’re seated on the edge. “I could never regret you.” A perfect hand pushes against your sternum, slowly driving you onto your back while he slots his hips between your knees. “I know I cannot...but let me give you this instead...” Before you can ask what he means by that, he shushes you.

His grip is light enough that you could resist it when Loki pushes your legs apart, revealing your most intimates. Watching between the slopes of your breasts, you see him lick his lips before lowering himself to deliver a kitten lick to the sensitive folds.

You’ve never touched yourself there save for the practicality of cleaning. Nothing could have prepared you for the odd, delicate sensation of the increasingly dedicated strokes of the god’s tongue – sometimes broad, caressing all of your core at once, and sometimes pointed and directed to the bundle of nerves at the very front. It catches you off guard when your pelvis begins to rise on its own accord from the floor as an intensity builds within you. Loki grabs your hips, holding them in place and you can feel his smile against the puffy, lower lips.

“Loki, I...” you moan without really knowing what you want to say.

You’re on the verge of something new and you want him to bring you there despite the trepidation for this unknown.

Releasing your pearl with a soft pop, he smiles up at you with a glistening mouth. “It’s alright, I got you,” and with that he returns to the ministrations.

It comes as a rush, crashing through your body in waves until you’re a moaning and writhing mess. Fingers claw for anything to hold on to, finding only his hair as your back arches off the cool stone floor. Again and again you mewl his name.

Slowly, lapping at your core lazily, he helps bring you down from this new high until you can finally breathe evenly again.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, staring up at the ceiling while still quivering.

A strangled grunt from Loki makes you look for him: his fist is holding onto his shaft, pumping it and drawing your curiosity despite feeling abashed at that and what has just transpired.

“Please...touch your breasts for me,” Loki pleads and you obey without hesitation.

Testing at first, you quickly find that the nipples are overly sensitive, sending goosebumps down your body when you roll them between the fingers. You also cup the breasts fully, squeezing them and for the first time in your life admiring their form.

“Just like that,” he groans, hand moving more furiously.

A curiosity strikes you and you slip a hand between your legs, tracing the wetness there until you hone in on the clit which makes you shudder. Hesitantly at first but then with greater need, you begin to rub small circles onto the sensitive spot, encouraged by the words of praise that Loki showers you with until he suddenly growls your name and stutters, pearly white leaking between his fingers as his head falls back.

In that moment, he’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen: fragile yet strong and so incredibly sensual with parted lips.

He sinks to his knees and you slip into the water in alarm, catching him in your arms and relishing in the nearness of him. It takes a moment before you realize that he’s talking to you, slurring his words slightly because his lips are pressed to your blue skin.

“...not what I planned. I wanted to court you first. To bring you to my favourite places or learn of yours, wine and dine...treat you like you deserve.”

You’re stunned at the revelation but manage to gather you wits. “There’s still time for that.”

Loki’s hands find your waist, thumbs running circles below the ribs and causing you to shiver especially when he adjusts the grip so he can graze the bottom of your breasts. Slowly but surely his attention is diverted, split between fondling them and your ass.

“For so long,” Loki confesses, “I’ve been admiring you from afar.” His fingers slide along your hipbone, tracing the vee until delving between your still slick folds, making you whimper.

He turns you around, sitting you between his legs so you can feel the half-erect cock against your back as you lean against his chest. Long arms cage you in, holding you securely but gently as he continues the circular movements you yourself had initiated earlier.

“I don’t have words to explain why I love you,” the god whispers hoarsely in your ear, “but please let me try to show you.”

You nod mutely, breath already uneven as heat pools in your core.

It takes little time before he has reignited the burning ecstasy within you and you tumble over this strange precipice once more, calling out his name on ragged puffs of air.

This time, Loki simply holds you as you descend from the high, rocking you gently and whispering sweet nothings to you that make your heart swell with the knowledge that he loves you.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Ghoulette Appreciation Week 2

Week 2: Stealing clothes

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes. Mist never had any chance to experiment with fashion when she joined the Ghost project. Now that the new ghouls have freedoms and finances she never had, their closets are the best shop in town. And best of all, they're free!

I'm starting to think my initial goal of writing more that 1k words for each prompt might actually be achievable... let's not jinx it by talking too loud!

Rating: General Content: domestic fluff, more unnecessary worldbuilding, Mist is the first ghoulette, a tiny reference to trans ghouls and dysphoria Words: 1291

Read below or on AO3!

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes.

It flowed through the corridors at night, undetected, and with it flowed a steady stream of disappearing shirts, socks, shorts. Items seemed to evaporate from the ghoulettes’ closets, disappearing as if carried by a Mist…

The Ministry had been in serious need of changes when Mist was first summoned. Not just the Abbey’s leaking roof, or the rising damp in the walls, or the growing rat problem. No, the main problems were with how the organisation treated the ghouls they claimed to hold so dear. If He had ever got word the conditions above, He would surely never have let His beloved creations leave the pit!

The ghouls, for there were originally only ghouls, were provided the barest minimum to keep their vessels living. All their food was from a canteen, all their clothes were standard issue and limited, they had no more freedom than was required to play the instruments they had been summoned for. Part of the reason some of the ghouls liked touring so much was the change in routine, the slight flexibility that life on the road masquerading as humans gave them.

Mist had been seen as a complication when she first crawled out of the pit inhabiting a female vessel. Half the clergy had whispered about how they had thought all ghouls were male, the other half had muttered about how they didn’t have the funds for a separate dormitory, should they send her back? Mist hadn’t cared for either point of view. In the pit in their hellish forms they coexisted without issues, why did it need to be such a bit deal here? She was just glad she’d got a human vessel that resembled her physical expectations – there had been rumours that vessels could get switched during summoning, with ghoulettes’ ending up in ghouls’ vessels and vice versa. She already felt out of place in the Abbey, at least she didn’t feel out of place in her own skin.

Mist had been provided with the usual band ghoul performance uniform, as well as a daily uniform, identical to that of the other ghouls around her. Identical in size, as well as style. She had spent her time while in the band slumping around the Abbey drowning in itchy, black unisex t-shirts, waiting for things to get better.

They had, eventually. As the Ministry gained followers and therefore funding, they had fixed many of the problems at the Abbey, starting with the roof. The ghouls had of course been left until last, but with the change of figurehead of the band, their new leader had pushed for better treatment of, as he put it, the unholy instruments of His voice. The rat problem had also cleared up around this time.

Mist hadn’t been in the band at this time, but she was still able to reap some of the benefits of the new policies. As a retired band ghoul, she had a “pension” of sorts; a monthly allowance to purchase her own clothes for wearing outside of official duties and Mass, as well as any other creature comforts. It didn’t stretch very far, but it was something.

The newer band ghouls had it cushy, by comparison to Mist’s experience. They had a comparatively large monthly allowance for personal items, clothing and entertainment, and even a pack budget for stocking the new ghoul wing kitchenette. The current band ghouls had at this point accumulated far more in allowance than they actually needed – keeping a full glamour became tiring after a while and they did that enough on tour so they rarely went out to spend it. This resulted in their wardrobes becoming increasingly bloated over time.

In general, the ghouls had no real concept of spending money on luxury brands topside – why would they? Human capitalistic ways were an alien concept to them. And with disposable income, the new ghouls had developed an attitude of “see it, want it, buy it”. Some of them who had been topside a bit longer had worked out how to use their allowances responsibly, while the newest ghouls Phantom and Aurora were still in the stage of learning what your card had been declined meant. In Aurora’s defence, how was she to know that the butterfly dress she wanted was custom couture and beyond the budget of even the richest of humans?

The older ghouls had gained an understanding of what humans wore, and what was even comfortable for humanoids to wear, and only really bought what they needed. For many of the guys, this was just t-shirts of other bands they discovered and jeans. Rain had however taught himself to budget in order to buy fancier items and flamboyant blouses. Most of the ghoulettes fell somewhere in between, Cirrus being the best at budgeting and Cumulus the most impulsive spender.

Mist could still only afford mid-quality basics with her pension, even as a creature from hell she had developed some human morals and refused to succumb to fast fashion like some of her other retired brethren, cough Ifrit cough. Instead, her shop was the other ghoulettes’ closets. Usually when they weren’t there to call her out on her brazen theft.

Cumulus and Aurora had the best selection of feminine clothes, so they were usually Mist’s first choice. She had lacked any of these options when she was summoned, and she loved to get her hands on items that fitted her and her body the way she wanted them to, in colours other than boring, plain black. Cumulus also had the best selection of loungewear and on chilly days in the Abbey, Mist was never seen without one of Cumulus’ fluffy hoodies.

Sunshine had all of the skirts. Mist wasn’t a huge fan of them, she found them a bit impractical at times, but loved the feeling of swishing them around.

On the days when she didn’t feel like dressing quite so feminine, Cirrus had many pairs of trousers. From nicely tailored dress pants (that Mist rather ruined the effect of by having to roll the hems) to floaty culottes, she always had something Mist could “borrow”. The day Mist discovered Cirrus’ cargo pants however, was the day Cirrus mysteriously had to replace all of hers, which seemed to have gone missing overnight!

The ghoulettes were of course entirely aware of what was happening. It was quite difficult not to put two and two together when something went missing, and then the next day Mist was wearing it. They didn’t care though; they loved to see her in their clothes. Cirrus had even replaced her missing cargo pants in a smaller size to fit Mist better, and left them temptingly at the top of the pile.

Each one of them had offered to buy Mist clothes at some point, many times in fact, but she always refused. For her, clothes were far more special when taken from her ghoulettes anyway. Being able to pick and choose things she associated with them, the ghoulette pack who had adopted her as their own, was the real reason she liked their clothes. The comforting smell of the previous owner lingering in the fabric until it faded. Strangely enough, the items would then reappear in the closet Mist had pilfered it from in the first place…

None of the ghoulettes have anything to say about Mist’s light-fingeredness, really they just love to see her in their clothes. Their own little wisp drifting through the corridors, surrounding herself in the people she loved.

[cursedfortune]

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

@fallesto

She loved him so much. Look how hard he was working to try and get the ink to stay in her skin. When she said she had designed a sigil to tattoo upon herself, now that they had settled into their marriage, she hadn't expected Regulus to be so interested in taking part of the process. But she supposed his possessive nature saw it as some means to stake his claim. Like the earring, like the wedding ring, or even some of the clothes he gifted her to wear.

Unfortunately, he didn't quite get yet that normal tattoos didn't stand a chance to stay on her body. Her spell of regeneration would push the ink out, get rid of it, fix whatever was done to her. All the tattoos that covered her body beneath her dress were specially enchanted. Every few centuries she needed to go over them again and it wasn't the most pleasant of processes, but it was a price she gladly paid.

So there she lay topless, upon the chaise lounge within their private level of his palace. Amusement was evident in her expression as he continued trying to make the ink obey him, too determined to hear otherwise. It wasn't until he had destroyed everything around them and fixed it again a few times that she finally patted his hand to stop.

"With me, now." Mortem's hand covered the back of his own, allowing him to freely mark her skin with the sigil she had made to represent them amongst the rest of her tapestry. A free space just there, right over her heart - as if it had always been reserved for him and him alone.

When his hand moved this time, she cast her spell and guided the magic into every stroke. Cementing the design into her skin. It was all the more evidence that they worked best together, effectively able to work with her spell rather than against it. "Very good, m'love." The witch cooed her compliment, her praise of his steady hand. He was a man of perfection, after-all. She'd expect nothing less of her husband.

Only when he was through did she take her hand off his, end the spell she had cast. That very hand moved to lightly touch upon his own chest, over his heart, "If you ever want to match, do let me know~" She smirked, but there was power in if he ever chose to do so. While the sigil she placed upon her chest would work beyond well, it was always more empowering to have that other half. This mark... it would keep them connected in ways swapping hearts couldn't. With this sigil she could better protect him, on the off chance he ever needed it. It strengthened their hearts, it extended her extreme regeneration factor to him should he ever find himself without power.

This was the great show of love. To not be just a small and pretty engraving to represent him, but to actually serve a purpose that would ensure he stayed with her always.

[hummingbird-of-light]

June of Doom 2024 Day 17 (@juneofdoom)

17. “You don’t want to do that.”               

| Struggle | Blackmail | Desperate Measures |

~

Nyota Uhura was very tired when she entered her small apartment. The day at work had been exhausting as hell and she longed for a nice warm shower, something to eat and a few hours of sleep.

Slowly, she made her way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to take a look at what she had left. There wasn't much for she hadn't had the time to buy lots of groceries that week. Eventually, Uhura decided to order a pizza. It was way easier and she could take the shower while waiting.

~

It took round about an hour until the doorbell rang. Uhura had put on some relaxing clothes after her shower and was ready for a quiet evening, reading a book or watching a movie. A glance through the door viewer told her that it was the delivery service.

Uhura opened the door and greeted the handsome, young man who carried a pizza box in his hands. As soon as he saw the dark-haired woman, a seductive smile formed on his lips.

"Good evening, miss. I have an order for" – he took a look at the smart watch he was wearing – "the most gorgeous lady in town?"

Uhura couldn't help but chuckle. What a flirt! Well ... she couldn't deny that it was a very nice compliment.

"Why, thank you. I owe you ... fifteen dollars, right?" Uhura grabbed the money she had already placed on the small cabinet that stood next to the door.

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess. But I would also take your number as payment."

"Really? I think your boss wouldn't be too happy if you brought him a number instead of money," Uhura retorted and her counterpart laughed.

"True. But I'm sure I can solve that problem."

The guy really seemed to be quite serious. But Uhura had no problem with that. She had dealt with men like this often enough and knew how to handle them.

"All right, then. My number in exchange for a free pizza."

The grin on the delivery man's face grew even wider.

"And ... maybe a glass of water? I've got a long shift ahead of me, but my boss hardly allows me any breaks and I don't get anything to drink." He put on his best puppy-eyed look and Uhura smirked.

"Oh, you poor thing. So my number and a glass of water? That should be doable. Come on in."

Those were the words the man had been waiting for. No sooner had Uhura uttered them than he rushed into her apartment, dropped the pizza on the floor and slammed the door behind him.

Uhura was startled and staggered back a few steps, surprised by the quick attack.

"Hey! What are you doing?" she screamed as the guy grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her against the nearest wall. The grin changed and the canines grew into fangs.

"What a naive thing you are," the man's sneering voice whispered as he grabbed Uhura by the bun and yanked her head violently to the side.

Uhura felt the hot breath on her neck as her attacker bent his head down and ran his tongue over her skin.

"What the –"

The man's cool laugh sent a shiver down Uhura's spine and silenced her.

"Oh, you smell so good. I'm sure your blood tastes just as amazing."

Carefully, almost tenderly, the pointed teeth dug into her skin and Uhura grimaced. But only for a brief moment.

"You don't want to do that."

The man laughed again and this time he pulled his head back. Blood stuck to his teeth, dripping from his lips.

"And why wouldn't I?"

A hand left Uhura's wrist and roughly grabbed her face. But the woman only smiled.

"Because you picked the wrong victim, vampire!" With these words, Uhura released one of the pointed silver hairpins she had used to pin up her hair and tried to stab it directly into her attacker's heart.

To her surprise, the vampire reacted immediately and grabbed her wrist while it was still in the air. He bared his pointed teeth angrily.

A fierce fight broke out between the two opponents and Uhura had to admit to herself that this man was really something. He actually managed to inflict a few injuries on her, but when they finally fell to the ground together, she made sure that the hairpin hit its target.

The vampire shrieked in pain and finally lay motionless, eyes wide open beneath Uhura.

The young woman wiped the blood and sweat from her face and got to her feet, breathing heavily.

Many said that a wooden stake had to be driven through the heart of a vampire, but she had found over the years that silver worked even better.

A grim smile formed on Uhura's lips.

"You shouldn't have stolen only the real delivery man's cap, you should have stolen the whole uniform, bastard."

She had immediately realized that the man didn't really work for the delivery service. And when he had tried to wrap her around his finger and his eyes had practically begged to be let into the apartment, she had realized everything.

The vampire had made a big mistake. Because no one of his kind should mess with a vampire slayer.

[nii-chans-rabiddogs]

Game time!

No TWs as far as i'm aware :). Shorter than normal, but it's set a bit after Detective? so have fun (:

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

“Hey, how do you guys classify supervillains? Or normal villains? Cuz if criminals aren’t villains, but the only difference between them that i can see is that villains have some sort of power. Are supervillains just really, really strong villains? Or do they gotta have a mafia or something? What’s the requirements? And why am I classified as a villain, I haven’t done anything that bad. Is it because of my power? Wait, do you know what my power is? What’s your power? Can-”

“Kid, what. How in the fresh hell did you get up here. This- we’re on the ninth floor!”

Awh, she didn’t answer my questions. I wanted to ask again but my throat closed up so I scampered onto the bookshelves to poke at the plants up there. Skyrise tried grabbing at me, but she was a very bright, blaring orange like one of those hunting vests so I dropped back down to climb over the desk in the middle of the office instead. She was saying something about not being allowed up here, and asking who I was. I stared at her from behind the desk, while she called out to whoever was in the hall. I’ve always been allowed up here though, but normally it’s with Detective and I haveta wear normal clothes. 

I like my costume better, cuz it’s got dark blue on it, and a really bright blue too. My goggles are red though, so I don’t like them as much but the costume makers didn’t have any in blue at all, which was rude. Blue is the best color, obviously. 

“Ghost, stop distracting Sky. Sky, that’s Ghost. He’s a visitor, and the detective can vouch for him. If he doesn’t want to leave just give him the light blue switch, it’ll keep him entertained long enough for us to contact Detective Gunner.” Monsoon called, walking past the door with a box of something. 

Skyrise just kept staring at me, so I stared back while pushing a pile of papers towards the edge. There’s no reason they should be on the desk anyway, and it’s not like anyone will actually do it, either. Skyrise grumbled something I couldn’t understand before walking over and grabbing the pile before it reached the edge. I guess that’s one way to get rid of it, I suppose. She walked towards the filing cabinet that was next to the bookshelves and started digging through it. I perked up when she pulled out the switch, cuz that means I get to play Stardew Valley and eat chocolates all day.

She turned around and I lunged over the desk to stand in front of her, holding my hands out for the switch. It’s been three whole days since I last played, and I needed to visit Sebastian. He’ll be my friend whether he likes it or not. She jerked back like she got hit, before blinking and handing me my switch. Aw yeah, game time!

I sat down under the desk, and listened to Skyrise walk out muttering angrily about something and close the door. 

“Staaaaaar dew vaaaaaalley, du du du du du” I whispered to myself as the game loaded up and music started playing. I had to farm my stuffs and then go visit Sebastian, and maybe I’d mine enough ores for the blacksmith. I hummed a random tune as I started farming, and planned on spending the rest of the day playing. It’s not like I have anywhere to be, and they always call Detective so he won’t get mad at me for disappearing again.

[middleearthpixie]

Wanted Man ~ Chapter Five

Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.

McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…

Pairings:  Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin

Characters: McKenna, Loki  

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Tag List: @fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell @piggledy-higgledy @evenstaredits

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here! 

What she’d hoped would be a quick breakfast at the diner turned into anything but as Loki's eyes practically popped from their sockets as he read the menu. His first taste of bacon led to a four-course breakfast of eggs, pancakes, French toast (she thought he might actually cry when he tasted it with maple syrup), bacon, sausage, and hash browns. She’d never seen a man eat the way he did and it was nothing short of amazing that he managed to put so much food away. She was pretty sure her credit card actually groaned when she paid for breakfast and managed to drag him away from the dessert carousel at the front of the diner. 

“You can’t possibly still be hungry,” she grumbled, grabbing him by the hand to pull him away.

“You’d be amazed,” he replied, but allowed her to steer him out the door to her waiting Honda. “I had no idea how well Midgardians ate.”

“Trust me, there was nothing even close to eating well in what you had. And where did you put it all?” She unlocked the Accord and slid in behind the wheel.

Loki sank into the passenger seat with the heavy sigh of a well-fed bear. “So, where do we go next?”

“You need the basics. Jeans. Socks. Underwear. So, we’re heading to the mall.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The mall it is.”

She glanced over at him as she maneuvered through the traffic on Route 18. It was always heavy near the mall and today was no exception. But finally, she pulled into the parking lot and managed to find a space. With any luck, finding Loki suitable clothes would be relatively painless.

And it was. He was perfectly amenable to any suggestions, which was nice for a change since Joe was always a very particular shopper with particular tastes. And what was nicer still? He didn’t mind sharing the load when it came to carrying everything. In fact, when she’d reach to take the short stack of jeans from him, he drew back with an, “I’m quite capable, you know.”

Finally, when they’d amassed enough clothing for what seemed like half of the people in Brunswick, McKenna blew a wayward tendril out of her eyes and said, “Maybe you should try something on now?”

To her relief, he nodded. “I probably should, yes. And where do I do this?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” She wove her way through the racks and stacks to the back of the store and the dressing rooms. “Just take something and go in one of the little rooms. I’ll wait right here.”

“Shouldn’t you accompany me?”

Heat flashed through her and she had to bite back the word yes as it pressed against her lips. “No. It’s okay. The rooms are barely big enough for one person and since you’re a little bigger than most of us… well… we’d probably get to know each other a little too well, if you know what I mean.”

His dark brows pulled low. “I’m afraid I don’t, actually. I haven’t the foggiest idea of what you mean.”

“Just… trust me, okay? You’ll be fine on your own.” She handed him the pile of clothes and gave him a little push. “I’ll be right here when you come out. And remember, go slow with the zippers.”

He nodded and off he went, while she paced about just outside the dressing rooms like a nervous mother. When he emerged, he was wearing new Levis, with a plain black tee shirt stretched across his broad chest, and she smiled. He cleaned up nicely. Still looked a little battered, but otherwise… 

“These jeans are stiff. Are they supposed to be?” he asked, walking a bit bowlegged in her direction, as if he’d just gotten off a horse.

“They will until we wash them. Don’t worry. Eventually, they’ll be like a second skin. And nice and soft, like the ones I gave you.”

He smiled. “You are very kind, McKenna. I appreciate it. Not many people show me kindness.”

“Well, that’s kind of what happens when you kill and maim people.” She held his stare easily, but still breathed an inward sigh of relief when he slowly nodded.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Would it make a difference if I had a good reason?”

“I don’t think so.” She gestured to his dressing room. “You should go change back, if you’re done trying things on.”

“I am.”

“Good.” She glanced at his feet. Fortunately, his boots went with jeans, but she thought he might like something a little more comfortable as well. Surely her credit cards were groaning again, but so be it. He needed clothes, right?

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s hit the shoe department and then get out of here before I’m completely broke.”

After the mall, she did a quick grocery shop, and when she pulled into her apartment building’s parking lot, she groaned. A white Acura was parked in her space. Joe.

Loki was dozing in the passenger seat and she really hated having to poke him in the ribs. “Come on. We’re here and there’s no way I can possibly carry everything.”

He sat up, rubbing sleep from his right eye with one hand. “I think I can manage.”

She popped the trunk and he lifted everything as if it weighed almost nothing, and her belly twisted into knots as they made their way up to the third floor. Sure enough, the front door was unlocked. 

Her keys dangled from her hand as she pushed open the door and as she and Loki stepped inside, Joe poked his head out of the kitchen. “Kenna! Where were you?”

“I was out. What’re you doing here?” 

Loki set the bags on the floor just inside the door. “Who is this?”

The two men eyed each other like two lions trying to decide if they were going to do battle. McKenna tossed her keys back into her purse and set her purse on the coffee table. “This is Joe. Joe, this…” She paused, not really sure how to introduce Loki. How did one go about introducing a god wanted in at least two realms?

Joe’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“A friend,” she said, glancing back at Loki only to find he wasn’t looking at her, but still staring at Joe. Not only were his blue eyes icy now but they also had hints of green swirling in them now, and she had the sinking feeling the body count was close to going up by one. 

Turning back to Joe, she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I need my Rutgers sweatshirt. Shelley and I are going to Ocean City and I might need it.”

“You broke into my apartment for that? I don’t have it.”

“Sure you do. It’s in the bottom drawer. And I didn’t break in. I unlocked the door, like a normal person.” 

As he spoke, he held up the key she’d given him and as soon as she saw it, she snatched it from him. “What are you still doing with this? I told you leave it in the dish, didn't I?”

“Yeah, well, I didn't and I want my sweatshirt, so do me a solid and go get it.”

Her fingers tightened about the key on their own, and she ignored the sting of the teeth biting into her. “Do you a sol—are you kidding me?”

“I think the time has come for you to take your leave now,” Loki broke in, his voice low and steady.

“I think you need to mind your own business, pal,” Joe retorted. “I want my sweatshirt, Kenna. Where is it?”

“I told you, I don’t have it.” And she didn’t. Last weekend, she’d used it to scrub the toilet and tossed it into the trash with a glee that was almost scary. 

“Go get it, Ken,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shelley’s waiting in the car and I don’t feel like getting caught in a ton of traffic.”

“Get out, Joe. I told you, I don’t have it.”

“Come on, Ken. I’m not in the mood for games right now.”

Loki caught her by the wrist and gently drew her around behind him. “She said she doesn’t have it and she’’s .”

“This really doesn’t concern you,” Joe glared at him, “and if you don’t back off, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“Am I? I think not.” Loki never raised his voice, but a flicker of fear shone in Joe’s eyes. 

Still, Joe was nothing if not stubborn. “Yeah? You think not, do you?”

Loki didn’t let him finish, but grabbed him by the throat and spun him about so his back was to the door. Joe gasped, “Let go of me, you son of a bitch.”

“Don’t hurt him,” McKenna broke in, grabbing Loki's right arm to try to break his hold. “You’ll get in trouble and he is not worth it."

“I’m not going to hurt him. I’m going to help him leave,” Loki replied evenly, shaking her off as he backed Joe across the room and shoved him out the door to send him reeling backward into the hallway. He hit the far wall with a crash and slid down in a daze, while Loki calmly shut the door on his glazed expression.

A flick of Loki's left hand, and the lock clicked into place, and he turned back to her, his eyes still cold and hard. “That is the man you lived with?”

“Well, he wasn’t always such a jerk,” she replied, sinking onto the arm of the sofa. 

“I find that difficult to believe.” 

“Yeah, well… he wasn’t.” She didn’t know why she was defending him, except for it didn’t say much for her, that she spent three years of her life accepting Joe’s bossy, overbearing, stubborn ways and for what? So he could dump her for his perfect Shelley, who’d he’d been screwing for months before he’d come clean about it?

Every last bit of happiness drained from her as she reached up to rub her forehead. Up until now, it’d been a pleasant day. She’d actually enjoyed the errands, enjoyed shopping, even enjoyed watching Loki put away his body weight in diner food. And now? Now she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

Loki put the groceries in the kitchen. “Where do you keep things?”

“I’ll get it.” She sighed as she pushed up from the sofa arm and trudged into the kitchen to join him. As she was putting things in the fridge, she caught sight of the bottle of white wine chilling on the bottom rack on the door. When she finished, she plucked the bottle from the shelf and set it on the counter. “Want a glass?”

“I think we could both use one. Where are the glasses?”

“In the dining room, overhead rack.”

He left, returning with two red wine glasses, but she didn’t care. She plucked the cork from the neck and emptied the bottle into both glasses. It was a Pinot Grigio, light and crisp, and after his first sip, Loki smiled. “Now that’s not quite as good as the coffee, but better than those potato-things I had at breakfast.”

She grinned. “Hash browns. They were hash browns and I’m amazed you had room for them.”

“What will we do for our evening meal?”

“I can cook, you know. I just didn’t have anything for breakfast.” She swallowed another mouthful of wine. A slight buzz settled over her. Perfect. “Beef or chicken?”

“Pheasant, if you have it? Or some wild boar, perhaps?”

“I don’t have them, Loki. Beef or chicken?”

“Surprise me.”

She smiled at him over one shoulder. “There’s another bottle of Cavit on the wine rack. It’s just below the glass rack.”

While he went to retrieve it, she lit the broiler, seasoned the flank steak she’d bought, and got it ready to go in the oven. He came back with the bottle. “A corkscrew?”

“Top drawer, left side. And I have to admit, I’m amazed you know what a corkscrew it.”

“We do open bottles in Asgard, you know.”

“You don’t just use magic?”

He grinned. “At times.”

She glanced up at him. When he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled in a way that was really cute. Especially since the bruise was fading from beneath his left eye. “I thought you were going to really hurt him,” she confessed, tearing off a sheet of aluminum foil to line the broiler pan.

“Joe? You should have let me.” Loki expertly popped the cork from the bottle and refilled both glasses. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“Oh, I know. I’m totally a prize.” She looked over and grinned at him. 

But he didn't smile back. “Why do you say it as if you don't mean it?”

“Because I don't meant it. And besides, ” she set the steak on the foil and bent to open the oven door. The pan slid in easily and by the time she straightened up, the delicious scent of garlic and pepper wafted up from the broiler, “he wasn’t always a jerk. Not at first.”

“He was trying to win you then. It’s unfortunate he didn’t keep trying to win you, because he should have been doing just that.”

She gave him a look. “Is that so?”

“You have a good heart. People mistake kindness for weakness, and that’s unfortunate, which I know sounds strange, coming from me, but a hint of kindness can go a very long way, you know.” He lifted the wineglass to his lips. 

There was something in his voice, a hint of wistfulness, perhaps, that suggested he had personal experience with being shown only hints of kindness. Sympathy swirled through her. He was a villain, he’d actually killed, and yet if she didn't already know what he’d done, she’d never believe it if someone told her right then. Aside from the way he’d handled Joe, and his arrogant demeanor the previous day, Loki had been almost been the perfect gentleman.  

“Thank you.” She set down her glass. “Salad or frozen veggies?”

“Salad.”

“Good. Fixings are in the fridge. Go crazy.”

He laughed. “I should have known.”

****

After dinner, McKenna cleared away the table, loaded the dishwasher, grabbed the bottle of wine and gestured to the living room. Loki followed, smiling as she curled up on the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her. He was finally a little more comfortable in the jeans, although they were a little snug in the crotch, which she insisted was how they were supposed to fit. Not quite as comfortable as the clothes he was used to, but definitely cooler.

“Now,” she was saying, swirling the wine in her glass, “tell me about this bargain and the—” she paused, her forehead wrinkling—“the Chitauri. Did I say that right?”

“You did.”

“Good. Tell me why they’re out for your head on a platter.”

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, trying hard to keep his gaze off her legs. They were tanned and shapely, and rather nice to look at, but this was neither the time nor the place for any type of those thoughts. He needed her help and that was it. She’d had her heart broken recently, although he was certain she’d never admit to it, and she was vulnerable and right now, he felt no urge to play on that vulnerability.

The Midgardians were a curious lot. They warred with one another over the most petty of disagreements and thought nothing of slaughtering one another in mass numbers. They lied. They cheated. They abused one another with unspeakable violence. And that violence was kept to human alone—they were even cruel to those far weaker than themselves. How they hadn’t exterminated themselves yet was a miracle.

He’d hoped to rule them, to bring them peace if nothing else. Unfortunately, thanks to his brother—his adoptive brother—and his group of friends who called themselves The Avengers, that hadn’t happened and now, here he was, relying on one Midgardian woman to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders. He had to be mad.

No, not mad. Desperate.

He sipped the warm wine in his glass. It made him feel relaxed, more so than he’d felt in a very long time. Relaxed. At ease. Comfortable, even. But could he trust her? He thought so. She wore her heart on her sleeve and seemed quite guileless. It was easy to see how a man like that Joe could simply take and take all he wanted from her, and she would let him. 

Normally, he would have sneered at her perceived weakness where that dishonorable Midgardian was concerned, but he felt no such revulsion now. There was something about McKenna that begged to be cared for, a part of her that wanted only to be loved that she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she tried.

“I’m not so certain I can explain them. They come from nowhere and everywhere and can look like anything they please.”

“That sounds horrible.” 

“To make a long story short, after I was—shall we say—deposed as king of Asgard, I was exiled and in this exile is where I encountered The Other.” As she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Don’t ask me to explain, for I cannot. I made a bargain with him. The Tesseract for control of the Chitauri. I would,” he paused, because no matter how he explained it, she was bound to be angered by it, “rule Midgard as your king with the help of the Chitauri armies and in return, I would hand them the Tesseract.”

“Tesseract?”

“An energy source. A neverending energy source and valuable to all the realms.” He drained his glass and set it on the table next to him. “And quite simply, I failed.”

“The Hulk.”

“Among a few others.” His back ached at the mere mention of the green beast that had grabbed him by the ankles and repeatedly whipped him back and forth until he was, as she pointed out, buried three inches into stone and steel. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all. “Including my brother.”

“Close family.”

“He is not my family. I was stolen from my family as an infant and raised an Asgardian. But I’m not. Not as Thor and Odin, and even my mother, were.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you then?”

“I’m a Jötunn, a Frost Giant.”

“You don’t look like a giant.” 

He smiled. “No, I don’t. But I assure you, I am.” He held up his right hand, gave a flick of his fingers, and snow started falling over her.

“What the hell…?” She laughed, setting down her glass and raising her hand, palm up, to catch the gently drifting flakes. “How did you do that?”

“My mother. She was quite the skilled illusionist.” 

Snow clung to McKenna's golden hair and she smiled at him as she stuck out her tongue to catch a flake on it. Such an innocent gesture, and yet, his hand went still and the snow stopped. 

She sat back, brushing the snow from her leg. “Cold. Now, you say she was a skilled illusionist. What happened to her?”

“She died. Was murdered, actually.”

“Oh my God…” Her eyes went round and wide with sympathy he knew to be genuine. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

He bobbed his head. “I thank you and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not speak of it.” He tried like mad to never think of what happened to Frigga, for each time he did, his rage bubbled to the surface and threatened to devour him. She wasn’t his mother, but she was the closest thing he knew to a mother and the one person he trusted. She was the one person he loved. 

“No, I understand. I lost my own mother not too long ago, although it wasn’t unexpected or violent. She was sick. Brain cancer. And it was a long, slow—” Her voice hitched and she pressed her lips together as her eyes glimmered. Tears. He could almost see her heartbreak.

He moved his fingers again to make it snow a little more, but she didn’t smile this time. So he moved them with a little more speed and created a snowball in the palm of his hand, which he handed to her. “Throw it at me.”

“What?”

“Throw it at me.”

She took the snowball and lobbed it at him. It hit him in the chest and exploded into a shower of white-winged butterflies that sparkled as if encrusted with diamonds as they fluttered all about the room. She couldn't keep the amazement from her voice as she murmured, “How did you do that?” 

“I already told you.”

“They’re so pretty.”

“Do you prefer white? Or perhaps purple?” He didn’t wait for her response, but wiggled his fingers and the butterflies sparkled like rich amethysts. “Perhaps green?” Sparkling emeralds darted about the room.

“Perhaps multicolor?” The swarm became a kaleidoscope of brilliant, shimmering butterflies. Then, with a wave of his hand, they all vanished. “And to answer the rest of your question, I thought everything was as it should be. Asgard believes me to be dead. I assume the other realms do as well. But then, the Chitauri appeared. I couldn’t take the chance I might be discovered, and since I couldn’t access the Bifrost, I had to find other, less secure means to take my leave of Asgard. And that’s when I crashed into your flat.”

“Why did they believe you to be dead?” 

McKenna refilled her wine glass and as she reached to fill his, he held up a hand. “Thank you, but no.” She set the bottle down and took her glass as he added, “Because I let them think so. Thor believes I sacrificed myself on Svartalfheim and I let them all think it. I avenged my mother’s murder and it was either let everyone believe I was truly dead or spend an eternity in Asgard’s dungeons.”

“Because of what happened in New York?”

He nodded. “Because of what happened in New York.”

“And yet, here you are and I’m not dead. Amazing.” Her words softened, running into one another as the wine hit her hard.

“I’ve no cause to kill you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She sank back against the arm of the sofa. “Our clothing suits you, Mr. Loki. Jeans look wonderful on you.”

“I think you’ve had a bit too much wine, Miss…” He frowned. “Have you a surname?”

“Carlin.”

“Miss Carlin.” He smiled as she fought to keep her eyes open. He rose from the table and slid his arms beneath her, one under her knees, the other about her waist, and lifted. She was not quite as light as she looked, but she wasn’t exactly heavy, either. 

She didn’t fight him, but looped an arm about his neck, murmuring, “The room is spinning…” as he carried her back to her room and balanced her against his hip as he freed one hand to tug down her blankets.

He shifted her back, and bent to gently place her on the bed’s left side. Her hold on him tightened, and she whispered, “Please stay…”

“No. That wouldn’t be wise,” he replied, reaching up to peel her hand from his shoulder, where her grip was like iron. But he managed to free himself and he straightened, pulling the sheet and blanket up to her chin. “Perhaps another night, McKenna. But not this one.”

Her eyes were already closed, a breathy sigh floating up from her lips as she snuggled down into the pillow. Cinder hopped up to curl into a ball on her other side and Loki stood there for a while, he knew not how long, and watched her sleep.

In sleep, she looked so young. The day’s cares and worries faded from her face. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow, glinting in the glow of the nightlight plugged into the outlet next to  her bed. She was a lovely creature. As beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.

“Sleep well, McKenna Carlin. Sleep well.”

[chainsofaether]

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

She ALWAYS put it in the same place. So where was it?

She could feel the panic building slowly in her breast. Breathing was a little harder thanks to the panic and the wet air from her shower. Slowly she pressed her palm in to the countertop and took a deep breath. One breath. Two. Three. She was counting along with each.

The panic subsided and she started looking again this time throwing her mind back to just before her shower. What had she done? She went through the motions. Setting it down in it's usual place, adjusting the mirror to look at her naked self. Then what? She glanced to the side, then down at the towel wrapped around her body.

Ah. She'd pulled the towel off the counter and then...

She ducked under the counter and finished in the dark for a few moments before her fingers brushed against cold chain. Looping thin chain around her finger before pulling it out in to the light.

Long gold chain ended with a clear gem, no a crystal, that shimmered in a light that most couldn't see. She checked it over for any damage. No change, Of course. It had survived all these years and she'd added her own magic to the pendent damage was impossible from a small fall.

Still it was comforting in her hand, and quickly back around her neck. She really only took it off because it tend to get tangled in her hair when she bathed. Aside from that it was sure to be on her person some where, her mothers necklace.

---

So OOC answer is the her mother necklace. She keeps it on her person pretty much always short of bathing in her own bath. Beyond that she just tolerates it getting in her way. Though more often then not it tucked below her clothes to keep it out of the way and out of sight.

Why? Well it being a memento of her mother is one reason but more practically, and Nyxathe is nothing if not practical, is that it's a crystal that houses a specific band of aether. Like a Grimore made by an alchemist it's marked by it's maker. Well marked by Nyxathe. She pressed a specific pattern on it as a reference point and then warded the entire necklace to protect it from tampering.

The value of the crystal is that it lets her compare her personal aether with the baseline provided. In normal situation they should match. But that baseline isn't actually her natural balance and so over time and because of her experiments it tends to shift. The baseline allows her to know what she needs to do to push it back to 'normal'.

As you can see above she tends to get very upset when she can't find it. If someone, say, stole it she'd probably go from panic to rage really quick. Of course hiding it from her is basically impossible since she knows it's aetheric signature better then she knows her own body. She knows her body quiet well as a note. Just a matter of her brain catching up to her emotions to remember that.

[umbralsound-xiv]

Lost Property.

I managed to persuade her to take a much needed bath. I'd watch him in the meantime, not that i expected him to wake. Fleetingly, i had made my way into the company house at the early bells of the morning, picked the lock to their room and took the first folded clothes i could find.

Sayuri Aoki carefully drags herself onto the edge of the bathtub, exhaling sharply. A hand reaches for a towel kept nearby, which is slowly draped around her body as she slips out of the tub completely. She halts there, raising a hand up to rub at her own face while she takes a small moment to rest.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…He's still sleeping. I put your clothes near your feet. I… Had to pick the lock to your room. Apologies." She continues to look at Eir, giving Sayuri her privacy while she dressed. "…He's going to be upset when he wakes up. I… Think he might need some new houseplants…"

Sayuri Aoki‘s ear flickered softly as Bexy’s voice reached her, a soft breath leaving her. “.. Thank you. I-.. personally don’t mind...” She sets a hand upon the edge of the tub and leans down carefully, picking up the clothes left by it to begin dressing herself. “.. That-.. should.. be fine..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…The smallest of worries, considering. I'm… I'm just happy you're home." Bexy smiles, though unseen from the chair. "…How are you feeling?"

Sayuri Aoki settles the towel upon the edge of the bathtub, her hands moving to tug her yukata shut before she ties the bow a touch awkwardly. ".. Less in pain, but.. not completely free of it." She pushes away from the tub and approaches, steps slow and careful. ".. How are you?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Better, now you're back. Now you're -here-." She emphasises the word, seeming a little more settled for seeing Sayuri looking more like herself. "…I know you're hurt. If you need help with anything for your injuries… You need only ask. Neoma says she's but a linkpearl call away." She lightly pats a small wad of clothes on her lap. "…I brought him something to wear, too. But we need not move him too much until he's ready. He has blankets, until then."

Sayuri Aoki‘s hands tug at her sleeves, ears remaining flat and gaze lower than usual. “.. It’s good to be home.” She spoke quietly. “..I-.. will be.. fine. My injuries.. were not as bad as Eir’s.” She frowns weakly, letting her eyes settle on Eir’s unconscious body. Her nails sink into her sleeve, pulling in it a little more sharply.

Injuries. Scars and scrapes in our skin mean nothing compared to what happens inside. I know she will heal physically in time, but i know that this too, is not what plagues her.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I have no doubt you will be fine. But what about right now? Your injuries… Sayuri. You've been injured before. That's not what i'm worried about." Bexy extends a hand for comfort. "…Talk to me, Sayuri. I'm here."

Sayuri Aoki frees her sleeve in favour of reaching for Bexy’s offered hand, intending to squeeze it tightly. She draws a deeper breath, yet hesitates.. Before opting to actually speak. “.. Up until Vex spoke with me for the first time, I thought Eir was dead.. Even as she took me through the compound.. I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.” Her frown deepened. “..They-.. They made a show of killing him.. I-.. I held him.. in my arms.. Watched the life bleed from him.. and I don’t.. know how he survived..”

...I... ...The last time she saw Eir, was when she believed he had died. I... Did not think they would allow to see eachother much in there, if at all. But to make such a display of killing him. ...Bastards. All of them. I... ...I'm going to make time to see Laurent again, and soon.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Gods…" Bexy whispers. Her hand is squeezed in turn, looking from Sayuri over to Eir as she spoke of him. "…Vex spoke with me too. I'd heard conflicting stories about Eir, but i suppose it depends what those i'd spoken with knew. Some thought him dead. Others, alive. Vex told me he lived. I… I'm glad i took the chance to trust her. I'm glad he's still alive."

Sayuri Aoki‘s grip of Bexy’s hand notably tightens, features pulling into a small expression of pain as her aether stirrs with her increasing upset. “.. I spent.. most of my time in there.. thinking he was gone..” Tears build up in her eyes, yet she blinks them away. “..I-.. I h-hadn’t seen him.. until l-last night..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I… I did not know. I… Don't know how you were kept in there. What contact you had, or were allowed, or what they granted you." Bexy slowly leads Sayuri to the side of the bed, to allow her to sit more comfortably. "…It's been two moons since you were gone. Two long, difficult moons. For both of us…. For… All of us."

Sayuri Aoki moves over to the bed, slowly sinking down to sit at the edge of it. “.. Initially.. In cells opposite each other.. Until they made the scene..” Her lips tug downwards. “.. I could already feel that they had done something to my aether the first sun.. But I could mostly force myself through the pain.. I fought them, every moment I got..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…You never gave up. I knew you wouldn't. That's not like you. Give them hell, i said… Though it was more than a cycle ago, and in a much different situation." She gently squeezes Sayuri's hand in her own. "…I too carved my own path. Distanced myself from the company through fear of retaliation. Killed… I… I killed so many people, Sayuri…" The realisation of Bexy's words seems to dawn on her, a little striken for speaking it aloud.

...So many people. So many. I... ...How many people did i kill? I... I can't... Remember. No. I'll remember. I'll write them down like the rest. I've barely had a moment to... To... I'll write for them soon.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. It was.. but I didn't forget it.." Sayuri returns a squeeze of her own. ".. And I am thankful that you did." She whispers. "..I-.. I killed whoever I got the chance to.. except.. two.." A brief pause lingers, as Sayuri's head lowers. "..One.. because I couldn't.. I lost that battle.. The other.. because both Vex and Eir stopped me.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…A friend, then. I know there must be others in there. We let two live yestersun. I hope they survive. Make good choices." Her gaze traces behind her, to Eir, who remains in a state of unconsciousness, only the quiet rise and fall of his chest to indicate he lives still. "…Did… You kill anyone notable? I… I don't think i did. Not really."

Sayuri Aoki: “.. A friend. A Seeker. I-.. think his name was D’khoreh..” She pauses, ears lowering. “.. Other than two of the three who captured Eir, and one who collected me? .. No. Not.. really..” Her brows furrow, gaze lifting up to Bexy. “.. Something.. did happen.. When we were breaking out..”

...These names i will keep in my thoughts. By no means is any of this over. We have her back, but they have Vex, still. I pray she's still alive. ...And even if she's not, something inside me isn't content for only bringing Sayuri home. I want to hurt them, still, for all they have done. I want to keep killing.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…About Vex? I… I heard she didn't make it. But she's alive, yes? We… We can still save her?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. No, with.. One of.. Grym's people.. I've been trying to wrap my head around it but.. I can't.." Sayuri's brows furrow, a slow breath leaving her. ".. She collapsed when her collar was activated.. I fear what's in store for her.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…If she lives, i will find her." Bexy promises, settling her attention back on Sayuri. "…What happened?"

Sayuri Aoki: “We.. we were so close to the exit, and the person we ran into..” She pauses, ears flattening. “.. A Sea Wolf. Ketenblaet. He-.. was the first one I met.. When X’aoki gave me over to them..” The memory causes Sayuri’s lips to tug downwards further. “.. He.. always seemed to be close with Grym, but.. He just watched us.. Their pearls went off and.. I assume they were asked about our whereabouts, because his response was.. That he hadn’t seen us..?” Confusion grips her anew as she recalls the scenario, brows furrowing. “.. He nodded to the door and just.. left.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…He just let you go? I… I'm glad he did, but… Why? Strange, but… There must be a reason, yes? It isn't as though you are a new face to him, if he was present the first time you were there…"

Sayuri Aoki nodded slightly. ".. I don't know. He.. collected me. Him, Arnkel and.. someone called Avront.. But he just.. let us leave. And I, just.. do not know why.."

...Something about the whole notion of such a figure just letting them... Leave, does not sit well with me. I can only think of a few reasons why someone would do such a thing. Either... They are confident they can get them back, or... ...They never wanted them to begin with.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I don't know. It's a little unsettling… Like there is some ulterior motive or some such." Bexy draws her lips into a line, quietly releasing Sayuri's hand after a small squeeze as she moves to stand, settling the small pile of clothes from her lap beside Sayuri. "…I thought you might like to… Do something about his hair. Neoma's cleaned what she can, mostly wounds to better heal and bandage them."

Bexy Amalaryssia plucks up a bowl from the foot of the bed, walking to the bathtub to collect water. "…For him to look more like himself, when he wakes."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Vex seemed kinda puzzled too.. But we weren't exactly given a moment to ask.." She returns a light squeeze as Bexy stands, her head turning to look in Eir's direction. ".. That'd.. be nice.." She murmured, leaning herself back a touch. Her hand reached for Eir's face, gently cupping his cheek and brushing her thumb over it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I know you're worried. But there's… Something else." Bexy hitches the bowl of water on her hip, walking closer to set it back on the foot of the bed, pulling out some cloths and a hairbrush. "…Something else plagues you. Something more than worry."

Sayuri Aoki peered over to Bexy, letting a brow slowly raise. ".. Guilt? Anger?" She exhales. ".. There's.. too much to pick out.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Anger i can understand. You have much to be angry about. Guilt?" Bexy soaks one of the cloths, wringing it out to offer to Sayuri. "…Because he was taken?"

Sayuri Aoki's gaze lowers, her hand reaching out to accept the offered cloth. ".. He wouldn't have been taken if he wasn't with me. He wouldn't have suffered all of -this-.." She sighs, ears flattening as she reaches the cloth over to Eir's face, gently beginning to wipe the dirt and grime away.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…And maybe he wouldn't be. But that doesn't mean that this is your fault, Sayuri." Bexy instead shifts the cover to retrieve one of his hands, cleaning using her own cloth.

...Eir surely would have been fine, should he have not grown close to Sayuri. That is an unignorable truth. But she would have never been so happy. It's a selfish thing to think, equating his safety for the sake of her happiness, but i think it worth it, even if no one else agrees. I would like to think Eir does, even if he is not awake enough to hear this conversation.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Would you be without him, even knowing that this happened?"

Sayuri Aoki shook her head gently. "..I.. do not want to be without him.." She murmurs, shoulders slouching. ".. I want to tear apart those who hurt him.. I want to wipe that annoying bloody grin of Vairg's stupid face again.. I want to grant Q'kura a slow, painful death.." Her body rocked back and forth slightly, a slight hiss of pain passing her lips in response to her increasing upset. Her gaze locks upon Eir's face, as she carefully and affectionately cleans it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I thought not. You went to that hell for him. I would struggle to believe that, after everything, you would wish to be anywhere but by his side." Her brow knits at the blood that stuck to his skin, wiping it away. "…Vairg. I heard that name, some, in the people i ran into. The other i don't recognise."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Guilt for leaving Vex behind, too.. But there was.. nothing we could truly do." Sayuri exhales a slow breath, sliding the wipe down towards Eir's neck once his face has been cleaned. ".. Q'kura is the Seeker who lead Eir's capture." She explains, before her lips curl downwards. "..Vairg.. is the bloody bastard who hurt Eir the most. The one who made him scream before I left for Thanalan.." Her gaze directs towards Eir's side, ears flattening. "..The asshole who nearly killed Eir.." She whispered. “.. The one I lost in a battle against.. But I bit his bloody fingers off..” She grumbled a touch more bitterly.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Names i will listen for if i find myself in the right places." Bexy sighs quietly, nodding as she listened; until her attention is taken. "---You bit his fingers off?" Bexy asks, incredulously, though her expression is a grin which she quickly dismisses. "…Your quarry then, should he be unfortunate to cross us. You won't lose to him a second time."

...She bit his fingers off. I... ...The last time i was in captivity. Not with Y'vhala. Lividine. I... Do not know how many cycles ago, now... I remember i... Did the same... I... I try not to think about it too much.

Sayuri Aoki nodded slowly. ".. I did. Two of them." She shifts the way she sits to be able to face Bexy while still tending to Eir, one hand resting gently upon his cheek. ".. He's a Viera, with black hair and green and gold eyes. Cockiest grin you can picture if he gets over the fact that he lost fingers to me." Her head shifts into a small shake. ".. Next time I see him, I won't be in the same state as I was then.. He won't be leaving that fight alive.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Another Viera. No, i can't imagine you would let him live after all he has done. I certainly wouldn't." Having wiped down what she can without being too intrusive, Bexy shuffles further up the bed, brush in hand. "…I can't imagine brushing hair will be an easy feat, considering. But we can tend what we can before he wakes. Rebraid some of his hair at the very least."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. No. I will not." She mumbled, moving the cloth away and setting it aside. A hand raised to dig into her own half-wet locks, fingers awkwardly combing through them with a great struggle, in desperate need of a proper brushing herself. ".. I never was good at braiding hair.. Eir always did it for me.."

...The braid she wears upon going into battle is always by his hands. There's some strange comfort that brings me, for some reason. That he knows where she's going, even consents it in some strange way, for doing this.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I… Never knew. That's quite sweet…" Bexy smiles a little faintly, shuffling up to work free some of the tangled hair from one of Eir's braids. "…You always said he slept a lot. I can't imagine he's had so much. Neither of you." She lightly nudges Sayuri, glancing up to her. "…Take one of the others. I'll show you."

Sayuri Aoki shuffles over, gently reaching her hands over to collect a section of Eir's hair, gently combing through it with her fingers to untangle it. "..No, not.. really." A faint sigh left her. "..I.. don't know how many suns it lasted, but I ended up just.. chained to the wall, because despite limiting my ice.. I continued to attack people." Her lips tug. ".. A woman came in to give me.. a poor excuse of food, good to know that hasn't improved.." She mumbled sarcastically. ".. She was there when I was a kid.. I clawed her, back then.. Scarred her, even. She taunted me, revealed she had been the archer who shot after Eir during his capture..” Her gaze lifts a touch, to look up at Bexy. “.. She had a dagger strapped to her boot, I tore it from her.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…And how many people did you kill on that particular outburst?" Bexy asks. It isn't concern, it's genuine intrigue and perhaps… Some flicker of amusement. "You gave them more than hell. They'll regret taking him, if they don't already." Bexy combs through his hair, sectioning it out with her fingers. "…And they would be fools to try again. They won't succeed a second time." A darkened look washes over her features. "I won't let them."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Six." She states, very matter-of-factly. ".. My arm and ribs were already broken at this point, I downed her and held the knife to her throat and make her call for a healer.. Then killed her once she had." She leans herself back a touch, gaze flickering up to the ceiling in thought. ".. Overall, I think I killed.. Twelve?" Her brows furrow, a small shrug following as her gaze lowered once more. She watched as Bexy began to section Eir's hair, slowly repeating the action on the side she herself held. “.. And if I have it my way, their hell isn’t over..” Sayuri’s features shift ever so slightly, into something notably colder. “.. And considering we still have Vex to retrieve.. It -will- be my way. Even if you do not let me join it.” Her gaze lift to Bexy, softening once more.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Our way, Sayuri. We will go for Vex when you are recovered, but that means you -have- to look after yourself until then. I can't imagine she'll be able to get out of there easily, or any time soon…" She trails, finishing the braid with a content hum, watching as Sayuri completed her own.

Sayuri Aoki nods slowly, working on the braid a little longer on her side, trying to make it as neat as possible. ".. Are you sure we can wait that long?" She asks, tying the braid together. ".. I don't know what her fate will be, and I dread to even try to think it.. Considering she can't even protect herself if she tried.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…She's survived there for fourteen cycles. She seemed confident enough. But i will look for her soon enough… Find more of them to talk, if i have to. This isn't over." Bexy moves to settle behind Sayuri, the brush brought in front of her as some quiet question of whether she wanted help with her own hair.

Sayuri Aoki's ears droop, her brows furrowing. "..Fourteen cycles.." She repeats, offering a small nod to Bexy's mute question. ".. I hadn't seen Vex until she broke me out, and.. she just.. seemed much younger than I initially thought she was.. If she's been there for fourteen cycles, she can't have been much older than I was when she was taken.." Sayuri frowns weakly.

Bexy Amalaryssia slowly begins to pull the brush through Sayuri's hair, combing through the tougher parts to loosen them with her fingers. "…A child, i would wager, when they took her. They killed her sister when they did. It makes sense… That she wanted so badly for our reunion. I can't bring her sister back, but i'll get her freedom. It's the least i can do." She continues to comb through Sayuri's hair, brow knit at the stubbornness of it.

...Do they always take them so young? It... Is a wonder, Sayuri or Vex turned out the way they did, surrounded by such terrible people. But they have room for compassion, still.

Sayuri Aoki's ears pin back as the brush begins to comb through her hair, a sharp exhale leaving her nose in return but she otherwise stays still. ".. In front of her..?" Sayuri's brows furrowed, her hands settling in her lap and tugging at the skirt of her yukata. ".. For some reason, I keep thinking that nothing can make them worse than what they already are in my head.. And I keep being proven wrong.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…In front of her. From what she told me. I have met many a terrible person in my cycles, but they are a particular kind of horrible. The more of them dead, the better." Another pull of the brush through Sayuri's hair… And Bexy hesitates. "…One moment." Abruptly, she stands, and makes way out of the room; footsteps heard towards her own.

...I remembered, any other time we have been close as of recent, the glimmer of silver around her neck, suspiciously absent now. I have kept the things i know are theirs in safekeeping, and wished her not to be without her beloved necklace for a moment longer.

Sayuri Aoki frowns. ".. Bastards.." She hisses. Her ears twitch weakly as Bexy stops and leaves her side, her head tilting ever so slightly with a raised brow.

Bexy Amalaryssia swiftly returns with something in her hands. Resettling herself beside Sayuri, she gently takes one of her hands… And into it, places the crescent moon necklace she was so rarely seen without. "…I thought you might want this back. It's yours, in case you're wondering. Not a replacement." Her other hand unfurls, to reveal Eir's earrings. "And… I wager he might want these back, too."

Sayuri Aoki's hand slowly closes around the crescent moon, a soft gasp immediately leaving her as tears line her eyes. "..I-.. I thought.. it was gone.." She whispers, clutching it tightly. ".. How.. did you get it..?" Her gaze falls onto the earrings, her ears drooping and a soft 'oh' leaving her.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…One of the first people i saught out was… An old fence of mine, on the off chance he'd heard anything. I had to start somewhere. Knowing i enjoyed my jewelry, he attempted to sell to me. Needless to say, i purchased everything he had. There's more, much more of it… It's on the shrine outside this room if you ever want to look through, i'm unsure if anything else belongs to either of you. But these pieces, for certain… I knew were yours. I have the twin to Eir's other chakram, too."

Sayuri Aoki nodded gently, raising the necklace up to gently clasp it around her neck, letting a hand move down to close around it. Her gaze falls onto the earrings once more. "..Those earrings mean.. so much to him.. Thank you."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I saw. I… Never realised that Eir was short for something." She glances over her shoulder, offering up the earrings to Sayuri. "…You should do the honors. It doesn't feel like my place." A smaller, smile then. "…It would seem the Gods favoured them getting back to you. I am surprised… I never seem to have such luck."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Svangeir." She speaks softly. ".. He.. doesn't use that anymore. Just Eir." She accepts the earrings and slowly shuffles back over to Eir - gently seeking to clasp them to his ears. "..Back where they belong." She murmured, before leaning down to place her lips against his forehead in a soft peck before leaning herself back up. Her gaze returns to Bexy, a brief pause lingered. ".. I lost my faith in the Gods a long time ago.. Yet, the few times I have prayed since then.. Something has happened..” She raised a hand to lightly scratch at her own neck. “.. Last cycle, after the first round on the Locket.. I prayed to Azyema that I’d find you at her stone.. And I did. And now.. I prayed again, begging for protection.. To the Kami, first.. Then to Azyema once more.. And my punishment reached it’s end when her name left my lips..” A sharp exhale left her, before she continues. “.. A second time, when I felt utterly alone.. And someone ran into Grym’s office to announce he had seen -you-, killing their people.”

...And there they are. Back where they belong; the necklace with her, and the earrings with him. Perhaps the Gods are listening, or at the very least, Azeyma is. ...I'll visit her properly soon. Bring her all the gold that does not belong to them which i bought from the fence. Decorate her shrine with all the colours of sunlight.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Hah! Then i must have her favor after all! And so too do you, it would seem. She will not forsake her children. Not even after all i have done… And she still listens to me, when i ask." She turns her head, to regard Eir, and then Sayuri in turn. "…Back where you both belong. More or less. I wager you'll feel a little more comfortable back in your room at the company house, but it was… Better, i felt, to bring you here, first."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. One can hope." Sayuri offered a small, weary smile. ".. Perhaps, once the time is right.. I will bring her an offering." She gazes back at Eir, before looking over to Bexy once more. ".. This is your home, Bexy. I feel more than comfortable here."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…We'll both go. With any luck, one of them will be stupid enough to approach us, and we'll make -them- into an offering." She grins, a little too wide, catching Sayuri's weary expression. "…Have you slept at -all- since you returned, Sayuri…?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. If such an offering is acceptable, I suppose I already made one in her name.. As the next person I saw after praying for her protection was one I killed.." She exhaled a weary breath, slowly shaking her head. ".. I laid down next to Eir and rested.. but I couldn't sleep."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Then even rest will do a little good. Sleep, too. I can tell you're tired, Sayuri. You know where i am, if you need me." Bexy leans in, to wrap her arms around Sayuri, giving a gentle squeeze.

...I know that weary look. The kind when you fight sleep, instead of succumb to it. She has to rest sometime... Gods know i have struggled to do so, too. I expect nightmares to wake her. But we cannot stay awake forever. ...I too, have found it difficult to rest...

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I've been in a constant state of tired these past moons." Sayuri flashed a weak, pained smile - her arms swiftly coiling around Bexy to return the squeeze. "..But you're right. I should try to rest.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…You should. I'm sure he'd appreciate the comfort, too. Even if he's not awake for it just yet." A fainter smile as Bexy releases her, standing to brush down her skirt, and settle the hairbrush on the chair. "I'll check on you in the morning, unless you call for me before. I'm only a room away."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Hopefully, he can feel my presence still." Her arms uncoil from Bexy as she stands, offering a gentle nod her way. ".. And I will be here."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "He can. I'm sure of it. Goodnight, sister." She spoke warmly, glancing over them for a little longer before retreating to her room.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Good night, sister."

...Back where they belong. Together. I won't tell her of the tears i shed, upon returning to my room. I realise now, how afraid i truly was through that ordeal. ...That i'd never be called sister again, or speak the word to someone i meant it to.

[liroyalty]

Everytime royal weddings come up, I like to sit back & think of what John & Rosa's wedding would have been like.

In which, Rosa, the farmer girl that wasn't one for much pomp & circumstance, actually had the full fanfare for her wedding to the king. The two day celebration, the long veil, yes, she even wore a tiara from the crown jewels. Weddings are special, & Rosa actually wanted to feel & look like a queen for her wedding, it's the one day of your life any girl should be allowed to feel like royalty, she believes.

The choice to let her wear the crown jewels was a choice the state regret later, as Rosa would end up playfully pushing John's face into their wedding cake during the after party, in which John should shove cake back into her face in retaliation, & would eventually lead to the both of them just having a cake fight in front of all their guests. The king & queen's clothes would never recover & lot of time was spend cleaning the frosting out of the crown jewels in the weeks afterwards.

A wedding fit for a king & queen, with a explosive dose of John & Rosa's playful romance shining through as well. It's one of John's favorite memories of his wife.

[sheliesshattered]

After my last rambling post about my recent and future sewing projects, I was able to make some real progress on the project currently on my table, the Lengberg Castle Bra interpretation. Setting the cups ended up being less of a pain than I thought it would be, possibly because I just went ahead and ran a gathering stitch right at the seam-line on the cups, then marked the 12, 3, 6, and 9 o'clock positions on each and pulled the gathers until it was just small enough to match the circular holes in the front of the body piece. Pinning each cup into place and sewing them to the body after that was easy.

Getting all the tiny wrinkles out of the mockup when I was draping it on myself was always going to be a longshot, and I guess in the end I didn't quite get them all smoothed out. But there's really not all that much gathering on the cups -- once I've fiddled with the fit and flat-felled all the seams, it probably won't even be visible, certainly not through clothing.

Eventually all those raw edges will be getting flat-felled, but for now I've left nearly all of it as is so that I can adjust the fit once I can really try this thing on. I did do a little bit of flat-felling to the vertical cup seams right where the cup meets the body, since I wouldn't be able to get in there again after that seam was sewn. In a theoretical future version of this I might actually want to take those vertical seams in a little more right where they meet the body, and thus avoid having to gather the cups to ease them in, but at least for this version I'm not going to mess with the fitting along that cup-to-body seam.

To really be able to try this on and check for fit, I'm going to have to get the eyelets for the side spiral lacing in place. I have been meaning to make a set of lacing strips with a little bit of scrap coutil and left over grommets from my Rhaenyra dress, but eh I don't feel like doing that much hammering right now. And I think that because this whole thing is un-boned, lacing strips might give me an approximate fit but not the real fit. Getting the side lacing in will allow me to fit it the way I actually intend to wear it.

But before I can start on the hand-bound eyelets, I needed to finish the top edge of the reinforced lacing area, and continue that part of the way around the armscye. I did this with a little twice-turned rolled hem held in place with a whip stitch. I continued that finish up towards the shoulder seam, but didn't quite get there -- I expect that in the fitting phase I may need to adjust that shoulder seam again, so I'm leaving that area unfinished in case I need to move the seam.

I left my long thread tails in place so that I can just finish this up once I'm solid on the fit of the shoulder seam. I did almost all that handsewing while on the phone with my brother last night (my 10 year old niece, who generally loves hanging out with me in person, always cries out "noooo!" when she realizes her dad is on the phone with me, because, and I quote, "you always talk for hours!!"). It was a good mindless handsewing project with lots of tiny stitches to do while chatting for not quite 3 hours, lol.

I didn't realize until a few hours later how much I had overdone in sewing all those tiny stitches, and my right wrist has been hurting since late last night. The spoonie chronic pain and weird joint issues are a primary contributor to how slow of a sewist I am, and I'm definitely going to have to delay my plan to start on the eyelets for at least a day or two, maybe longer. I might be able to handle measuring and marking out the locations for all the eyelets today, but at this point I'm doing as much with my left hand as I can just to give my right a rest. I'd rather take a couple of days off now than a couple of weeks or months off because I continued to push when I should have rested.

So the plan for finishing this, whenever that happens to be and at whatever slow pace I need to go, is to get the eyelets in for side spiral lacing, and then adjust the fit on the shoulder seams and the vertical seams of the cups (and maaaaybe the cup-to-body seam, but I'd really prefer not to mess with that one if I can avoid it). Once I'm happy with the fit in the shoulders and the cups, I'll be able to flat-fell those seams and finish up the armscye hem. After that it'll be down to handsewing a narrow rolled hem on the neckline and attaching a skirt of some description. I have some ideas for what I want to do with the skirt, but I'll figure out the specifics if/when I get that far.

If I need to take a longer break from handsewing and put the eyelets off for more than just a few days, I might shift gears and work on one of the projects with less handsewing. It might make sense to sew the mockup for Jack's Very Fancy Santa Hat while I have the muslin out and the white thread in the machine, but that's like, maybe an hour of work total. I also recently pulled out the 7 yards of brushed cotton herringbone that is destined to become a smokkr/Viking apron dress type over-layer piece, and if my wrist isn't in too bad of a shape, cutting that out from my existing pattern should be pretty straightforward.

And yeah, I'm mixing eras all over the place with my silly Pre-Raphaelite inspired historybounding -- 15th century Lengberg Bra and 13th/14th century cotehardies and 9th/10th century apron dress. But eh, that's the fun of historybounding in contrast to actual historical reenactment costuming: I can pull inspiration from whatever era I feel like, use whatever fabrics and colors and weaves (or knits!) that I want, put the seams wherever works best for me. And hopefully much like the Pre-Raphaelite art, I'll end up with something that is a little fantasy and a little historical, while still being comfy and practical to wear in my every day life. And hopefully my chronic illnesses will actually allow me to sew all the things I so desperately want to make and wear, sooner rather than later.

[thinemoonshine]

⋆ ˚｡𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x nishimura riki content(s): fluff, jungwon’s defeat by ni-ki’s pettiness, ni-ki lets (y/n) wear his clothes, jake and heeseung third/fourth-wheeling(?), ni-ki's lowkey down bad type: oneshot word count: 975

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: ni-ki and (y/n) are like peas in a pod—inseparable and close as close can be—so naturally, they do a lot of things together. some where the others don’t even have the privilege to do so with (y/n) such as sharing clothes ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

riki, (y/n)'s capeless hero

“Hey, Riki. Ni-ki. Riki Ni-ki ding dong,” (y/n) calls as she knocks on the open door of his bedroom that he shares with some of the others.

The said lad furrows at the odd nickname and turns around to look as he sits criss-crossed on his bed. “What?”

Her eyes wander around the room to his wardrobe before back at him. “Can I… borrow a shirt? Or a hoodie? Or anything, actually. I wanna change out of mine because it feels so stuffy.”

Unlike the others, she doesn't stay at the dorm and instead, at her own small apartment nearby but she tends to spend a lot of time at the dorm whenever they have schedules— but never overnight. Because of this, she's grown tired of carrying extra baggage for when she freshens up after their morning events before going to their evening ones. And sometimes, she just wants comfort that her outing clothes can't offer. So, what else to do than ask for some little generosity?

Her teammate stares at her and she stares back and an abrupt staring contest begins before he stands to his feet.

“Wait,” he says simply before rummaging through his clothes, eventually pulling out a pink and white tee with its colours blending into each other in gradients. He approaches her. “Here.”

With a quick “thanks!” she then, leaves to change.

“Ni-ki Riki!” (y/n) summons as she slides through the corridor with the help of her socks and she’s caught by the youngest male who exits his room at her beckoning.

His hands on her shoulders to hold her from crashing into him. He blinks fast with eyes widened slightly from surprise as he looks down at her.

“Thanks for the shirt! I feel like I can breathe so much better now without that high-neck collar choking me,” she expresses with theatrics before breaking into a playful grin again. Her eyes are upturned, cheeks rounded at her smiley face and she’s practically buzzing at her newfound comfort.

Ni-ki’s eyes are fixated on her, their cutting sharpness unable to conceal the tenderness and endearment of his gaze as the corners of his lips hook upwards. “Looks nice.”

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Keep it.”

riki, the exclusive clothes-lender for (y/n)

Ever since he lent (y/n) his shirt, it's become exclusive (to the members) that he is her official clothes-lender. Mainly because, no one else is allowed to. Not that she rejects them— but Ni-ki prevents them.

A giddy Jungwon spots (y/n) sitting on their couch scrolling on her phone and he approaches with a colourful hoodie in his arms. "(y/n)! This hoodie will look grea—"

"(y/n)~" Riki calls with his deep, bass tone in a short sing-song tune. He swerves in front of Won and drapes his hoodie onto the girl's head when she turns to look— blocking her vision from seeing both him and Jungwon. "You wanted this one right? You liked the wording."

"Oh! Um, thanks, Ni-ki! My shirt is fine for now though so—"

"You should change. They say it's gonna get cold soon," Ni-ki claims, lying through his teeth and (y/n), although slightly finding it odd, decides to listen.

She pulls the clothing from her head as she stands, brows raising at the sight of them. "Jungwon! Didn't know you were here too."

Just before she can look down at the piece he holds, Ni-ki spins her around by the shoulders before pushing her gently. "Go, go."

And once she's out of frame, he turns to his hyung who's staring with confused, round eyes and Ni-ki pulls his lips to a line.

"Don't worry, hyung. It's settled now."

At some point, he has clothes set aside just for (y/n). Once again, emphasis on the just.

Heeseung passes by Ni-ki’s room and sees the pile to which he curiously reaches out for— only to get jumpscared by the maknae who appears behind him suddenly.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Whose clothes are these?”

“Those are (y/n)’s,” Riki says as he slowly lowers the older’s outstretched hand.

The older furrows. “These look pretty big, though. And why are they in this room? Are you sure they’re—”

“(y/n)’s,” the other will say again despite the said girl not even knowing what these clothes look like yet. But he’s decided they’re hers so they are hers.

An awkward chuckle sounds from his hyung who slowly retracts his hand before Ni-ki can lower it any further to the floor and he takes backward steps out the room.

riki, the (not) discreet no.1 fan

"She looks cute, doesn't she?" Jake gushes at their female member who's sitting at the dining table, knees against her chest but unseen from the way they're hidden under the large hoodie she wears.

Heeseung chuckles with a nod. "She's practically wrapped all over by the hoodie. Just her toes and head popping out."

Light laughter emits from the two as they admire the oblivious lass who's resisting the urge to gnaw the edge of her phone at the stressful game she's playing.

"Yeah. She's cute, right?" Ni-ki abruptly appears beside his hyungs, smiling at the girl from afar. The other two whip their head at him, jumpscared by his abrupt presence. He turns to them, his smiley face contrasting the two who wears expressions of confusion. "That's my hoodie."

"...Yeah, you told us that 3 times in a span of 7 minutes earlier," Heeseung says with a dead expression and a nodding Jake besides him.

But fanboying Ni-ki barely bats an eye at his monotone as he dreamily gazes at a raging (y/n) who's knocking her head on her phone screen. "That's my hoodie she's wearing."

"Uhuh..." Jake sounds as he and Seung quietly slide away and Ni-ki walks to (y/n) with a skip in his steps.

"(y/n)~~" He sings with moe flowers practically fluttering around him, contrasting the dark, gloomy lines that surround the defeated (y/n) by her game.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[genshrineimpact]

universe abound

| ◆ ch.4 ⑊ welcome home.

⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙

◇ a/n ◇ he's self aware! she's self aware! they're self aware! you're self aware! it's a self aware galore over here! woo! anyway, i am going to mostly use their archon name starting next chapter - e.g. "barbatos" / "morax" / "beelzebul". i was going back and forth between "beel" or "baal" but considering the reader's history and lore i feel that it's more fitting to use "beelzebul", so that's what i'm going with!

you don't remember falling asleep.

was it exhaustion? did you pass out on the sofa while working or watching tvs? or perhaps you did crawl into bed but you just don't remember doing so?

… yes, that must be it.

you sigh onto the pillow and bury your face against it even more. yes, you must have somehow climbed onto the bed, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to sleep so comfortably. in fact, the bed feels far too comfortable than what you're used to. and it smells very different too...

wait….

your eyes snap open and you push yourself into a sitting position, mind on full alert despite having just woken up. your suspicion is spot on, and you're unsure whether you should feel happy about your intuition or tremble in fear because you have no idea where you are.

it’s definitely not your house, that's for one. the walls and interiors are too different. you suspect it’s a different building altogether, and the nuance of the room suggests-

-huh?

this…

this layout looks…

... familiar.

isn't this a bedroom you made in your serenitea pot last time?

you examine the bed. you're not a hundred percent sure but this has to be the bed you chose. just that instead of a 3D model of a bed, you’re looking at a realistic version of it. perhaps this would be how genshin would look like if it was made for ps10.

that is if the ps10 allows you to touch and feel the objects in-game. which you can certainly do now, but you know the actual console doesn't have that capability.

the silken sheets are soft under your fingertips, and the flooring is surprisingly warm under your feet. you dash towards the mirror and see... yourself. with the clothes you remember changing into after showering. your look clashed so badly against the overall look of the room, and you groan, burying your face in your palms.

this has got to be a dream, right?

there's no way you just got isekai’d into the game, right??

the universe wouldn't play such cruel pranks just to spite you, right???

"also, are you kidding me?! if i got isekai’d i would've wanted to be reborn in a younger and better-looking body at least!!!"

your screams muffle against your palms as you curse the gods above - or whoever brought you here. you look up to glare and shout more at your reflection, but what you saw made you stop.

what the….?

humans are never perfect. you know of this and you’ve learned to fully accept this throughout the years. yet despite that, it's just natural for human beings to always strive for perfection and to unconsciously draw a ‘perfect’ version of themselves in their mind. from physical appearances down to traits, from jobs to materialistic properties, you too had a picture of what you see as ‘perfect’.

and your ‘perfect’ reflection is currently staring back at you through the mirror.

young-looking, supple skin, healthy hair, bright eyes, body draped in clothes that you’ve always wanted to wear when you were in your young adult stage but were never brave enough to.

you wave. the reflection mirrors the motion.

you smile. a lovely smile stretches the reflection’s lips.

you pinch your cheek. the reflection follows and frowns in pain.

is this how dogs who have just walked into a mirror room for the very first time feel?

"i... i’m lucid dreaming. that has got to be the explanation."

though you're the one who said those words, you can't seem to fully believe them either. since pinching your cheek didn't seem to work, you decide to try and slap it, just in case. all you get is a spike of sharp pain, leaving a tingling sensation on your right cheek.

frustrated, you throw a glare one last time at your reflection and settle into surveying the area instead. your eyes zero in on the door, and you weigh your options.

if this truly is your serenitea pot, then the companions you place on the main hall should be around outside, right? would it be safe to go outside, then? but what else can you do, stay cooped in the room while trying to fall asleep so you can wake up in the real world?

you used to read all those sagau imagines. if this has the whole impostor thing going on, then you might get hunted. but on the other hand, there's a possibility that you might get worshipped by those who used to be your favorite characters… that last possibility doesn't sound too bad...

wait, no. no, bad [name]. focus!

this might just be a dream, but what if it isn't? you’d rather completely avoid the dying route. no dying today, thank you.

yes, it's better to be overly cautious than regret it later.

steeling yourself, you slide the door open and peek outside. your view might be a little limited, but you don't see anyone, and everything is quiet, undisturbed.

huh. you’re pretty sure you placed a few characters in the main room… but perhaps your memory is failing you. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here after all.

upon opening the door wider, true to your observation, no one is standing by in the main room. you then tiptoed to check all the other rooms in the mansion, finding no one but a rush of nostalgia. you remember the hours you spent grinding wood and minerals and all the materials needed to get your mansion to look the way you wanted. and now, to be actually inside of it? it’s like a dream come true. you’ve always wished there was a way to upgrade the size of the quarters, but now that you're actually here, you're glad there was no such thing - it’s already far too vast for your poor legs.

a little excited, you open the front door and step out onto the front porch. tubby isn't there, but everything else looks just as you envisioned in your head. a beautiful garden, and even a pavilion with some-

-people....

oh. oh shit. oh gosh. oh fuck.

you freeze in fear when three pairs of eyes meet your gaze. in a snap of a finger, purple flashes in your eyes, and you yelp upon realizing that the lightning archon herself had kneeled in front of you.

"my liege! i can’t express how-"

"[name]!!!!"

a body crashes against you, followed by a pair of arms looping around you in a tight hug. a sweet smell dominates your senses and for some reason, the cecilia flowers pop into your mind despite the fact that you shouldn't have any knowledge on how those flowers smell.

"ah, what a nostalgic sight."

"hmph, such... obscene behavior, in front of the divine creator…"

"oh, but [name] loves me this way! free, unbound, and a teeny tiny bit obscene - isn't that right, [name]~?"

you stare at the three in succession.

zhongli looks just like how you saw him the last time you logged in, but without the pixels and polygons-based model, he’s a thousand - nay, a million - times more handsome. and his aura! imposing, ancient, regal... it nearly makes your knees buckle.

ei’s hair is braided, tied up into a bun instead of flowing freely behind her, secured with a kanzashi. her usual attire is replaced by an extravagant knee-length kimono, its fabric going from dark purple to the softest purple pastel, bearing the sigils of electro and inazuman patterns sewn meticulously onto it. she’s wearing her signature stockings underneath, with anklets decorating her slim ankles and a geta sandals on her foot - which were barely visible given her kneeling position previously, but now clearly seen as she stands to glare at the anemo archon.

barbatos seems to have altered his ‘venti’ form. though, in essence, their styles are still very similar. a lyre hangs faithfully on his side, coupled with interwoven twines with several charms hanging off it alongside his fake anemo vision. though his hat is missing, his hair is still braided on the front, longer than what you remember. there are crystalflies weaved into them, shimmering under the sun. he’s a little taller too, you notice, though maybe it’s also because of his new high-heeled boots.

you then realize that the three of them seem to be expecting you to talk. so naturally, like all other sane human beings in presence of three utterly hot and gorgeous deities, you stare back at them dumbly and reply:

"..... huh?"

"... eh? oops, did i came on too strong? ehe, i guess you're still a little shocked from the fall… but it’s all okay now!! you’re home!"

your brain slowly tries to reboot itself.

home? home….. home! wait, shit!

"my electricity bills! i need to go back home and turn off the lights!!" you say in realization and turn back towards the building, although the task proved difficult because one of them was still latching on to you.

venti notices you struggling and whines, tugging on your clothes as if he's five years old and not thousands year old ancient at this point, "wait wait wait, [name], look at us! look at me! why are you being so distant…?"

"your grace…"

you snap reflexively towards zhongli, eyes narrowed, "don’t call me that."

his draconic eyes widen and he bows his head in humility, "my apologies. then, what title pleases you?"

"title?? why would i need a-" you repeat incredulously, and you stop trying to pry the anemo god off you, falling into silence, realization dawning.

surely, no dream can be this real. you’re literally touching venti and talking with zhongli. they’re referring to you so formally and seem to be enamored with your very presence. you've tried to wake yourself up, to no avail. surely... surely this scenario is...

"did i create teyvat?"

zhongli tilts his head slightly, much like a puppy who just heard the most intriguing sound in its whole life, "why are you stating the obvious, your gra- ahem, i mean…. divine creator?"

oh.

oh god.

wait no, you're the supposed god here, aren't you.

"my liege," beelzebul places her hand on her chest, bowing elegantly with a smile, "i… we are truly glad you decided to answer our prayers. we beg you to have in your heart to forgive us, and let teyvat flourish once again. we will not fail you twice."

morax speaks next, "it is as baal says. though we might be all that's left of your closest acolytes, we’ll do our best to assist you with everything you could ever wish for. you need only ask, and we shall do our very best to provide. in exchange, we hope to receive your guidance."

"ehe, they’re always so formal, huh?" barbatos flashes you a grin but steps back nonetheless, a gentle expression overtaking his youthful face, "but i guess i should be proper once in a while. it is a special occasion afterall."

" " " welcome back, [name] - the sole master of celestia, divine creator of teyvat. " " "

© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated - it's the least you could do as a reader on tumblr. remember, likes do nothing on this website! feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Hello Maddy, nice yo greet you I would like yo ask you for a request for head cannons for Shinobu o Aoi where the female reader is turned into a fluffy animal by a demon techinique. Thank you very much again, take care!!!

Turned into a Fluffy Animal by a Demon Art Headcanons

Shinobu Kochou x Reader and Aoi Kanzaki x Reader

A/N: Hello! I tweaked it a bit and went second person pov on this. Seems easier for headcanon format for some reason. Hope you like these!

Shinobu Kochou

• If Shinobu hadn’t seen it happen herself, she wouldn’t have believed it, but there you were, rendered a trembling, furry ferret right before her eyes.

• She made quick work of the demon after that.

• She was dismayed that you didn’t turn back right away. She hoped you would only have to wait for the sunrise, but until then you were going to have to deal with the changes. You and her both.

• Don’t be offended, but she doesn’t want to touch you directly, not like this. When she finishes folding up and packing away your clothes from where they lay in a rumpled heap on the ground, she left your haori out.

• She was thankful that you still seemed to have your own mind and that you were able to understand her. She asked you to hop into the center of your haori so she could wrap you up and carry you home. She was not about to have you snatched up by an owl or some other carnivorous creature on her watch.

• The thought of touching your fur made her shudder, but she still spoke sweetly to you, assuring that if sunshine didn’t help, she would not rest until you were back to normal.

• The girls back home collectively lose their minds when they hear the story. Shinobu has to remind them that, even though you are a cute little ferret, you are still you and should be treated with dignity and respect.

• That being said, she still let them tie a cute bow around your neck.

• She feels bad for laughing, but you looked so funny jumping around! And you made the strangest little noises too!

• Shinobu does not want to leave you alone, not tonight when you are so small and vulnerable. She will allow you to stay in her room, but she will not let you under the covers. There are some lines that cannot be crossed when you’re a wiggly, furry and admittedly smelly little thing.

• She did leave you your haori nearby to curl up in instead. Even she had to admit you looked cute while you wiggled beneath your haori, trying to find the most comfortable spot.

• She tried to stay up with you in a show of solidarity, but she was so tired from the mission that she ended up dozing off in the end. She did wake up a bit when the sun began to shine upon her face through the window and she squinted, sitting up slightly to check on your condition.

• She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you were human again. Sleeping soundly and curled on a tight ball using your haori as a blanket.

• She plucked the furry garment off of you pinched between two fingers and tossed it in her hamper with a shudder.

• Then she took her blanket and draped that over you instead, gently pushing your hair from your eyes.

• Shinobu got up, got dressed and went to go look for your clothes that she had asked a Kakushi to wash the night before.

• Once you wake up, expect her to tease now that the ordeal has past and you appear no worse for wear. More often than not it’ll be about you sleeping naked on her tatami floor than the actual ferret event that caused that to happen in the first place.

Aoi Kanzaki

• Aoi had awoken to a frantic light knocking upon her door. She stumbled out of bed, and yanked the door to the side, ready for whatever could possibly need her attention this late at night.

• She did not expect to find Kanao sweating profusely, a fluffy dog standing by her side. Aoi could not believe you had been turned into a dog. She refused to believe it. But Kanao was not one to pull pranks.

• She knelt to the ground in front of the dog and held out her hand. The dog in turn rested the side of its head against her hand. She couldn’t really explain why, but at that moment she knew that it had to be you.

• Aoi decided that she could handle you on her own, at least until Shinobu got back from her own mission. So she thanked Kanao for getting you back safely and dismissed her to sleep after the chaotic night she had gone through with you.

• Aoi knows you are still in there, that being said, she doesn’t know how to act with you like this. Would it be offensive to pet you? She had to stop herself from talking to you like you were an actual puppy quite a few times. It felt kind of embarrassing.

• But if you were to duck under her hand, she would take the opportunity to give you a good rub down while also muttering how ridiculous the whole situation was.

• She decides to wait for Shinobu’s guidance before going to the lab. She may be just a little worried that she’ll somehow make it worse. But also, deep down, she thinks you are very cute as a dog and wouldn’t mind spending a little time with you like this. As long as it isn’t to your detriment of course.

• I think Aoi could have had a dog or even some farm animals with her family before she was rescued by the Kochou sisters. Given that the Butterfly Mansion is devoid of furry or otherwise marked unsanitary animals, she might really like having a valid excuse to have a dog around.

• She’ll let you sleep in her bed that night. She probably won’t outright invite you, but maybe get comfortable and pat the empty spot she left for you to curl up in.

• In the morning, she’s a little disoriented, but the events of the night before come flooding back with crystal clarity when her fingers weave through your fur. The sun hadn’t been enough. She would need to see if Shinobu made it back yet.

• But maybe she’d give you a few belly rubs and smile over how your tail wagged in your sleep before she would wake you up.

• Predictably Shinobu is not pleased to have a dog in her lab, but knowing it’s you and how important you are to Aoi, she tries to be as kind and patient as she can. Even if she sees that you’re shedding all over her floor.

• Shinobu managed to rework the antidote she used on Natagumo into something that will work for you. She leaves everything to Aoi from that moment forward. Aoi makes sure the clean the whole lab to show her gratitude.

• Aoi spends every moment with you while you heal that she can without neglecting her duties.

• Once when she got back from the infirmary, she found you being made to play catch with the younger girls. She wanted to scold them for making you do something so demeaning, but she knew that if you really didn’t want to do it, you wouldn’t. So she let it go, instead calling you over for your next dose of medication.

• It took a week before you were starting to look like yourself again. The in between stage of dog and human was a little off putting, but Aoi had stuck by your side and made no indication that she was weirded out in the slightest. She helped you get dressed, eat, test out your vocal chords… anything that you seemed to be struggling with she was right there to help.

• Another week, and you were completely back to normal. Everyone was relieved, but probably none more so than you. You had better thank Aoi for being so attentive to you. She may not out right say so, but she appreciates the recognition.

• She does however, miss the warmth and comfort of your fur, but if you’ll still have her as a cuddle buddy she will not complain.