#side blog ; double muse

[wraith-of-christmas-future]

I got to thinking.... I may put Johnny on full hiatus for now and make a second side blog.

One that will harbor both Geoffrey McCullum of Vampyr and the rekindling of my old Sir Galahad from The Order : 1886 as muses.

My old Galahad had a strict AU that I abided to, I may keep that in full . Self-loathing werewolf hunter turned werewolf.. by none other than a man he called brother.

Do give this post a like if you would be interested. Just a fair warning, I do not plan to sugar coat McCullum. He will be insufferably brutal and stubborn to reason with. Vampire muses approach at your own risk.

[astralis-ortus]

gummy bears

✱ college student!hj x gn!reader

— art school is hard—at least having a muse makes it a little easier.

w.count → 1.8k genre → fluff...? warning → mild cussing, as per usual♡ a.n → hi!! i'm back with a new face addition to the page! hahah honestly i thought it would be either minho or seungmin first but ngl hyunnie has been tugging on my hearstrings lately he's such a silly little mandu i love him sm :( hope you guys find the story as enjoyable as chris' side of the blog, and also if anyone is interested for a commission there are slots available still♡ ⋆ see masterlist

has it always been this… weird?

your attention should’ve been sealed at the projected slides once the professor started the countdown on his infamous ‘how-long-can-i-yap-before-my-students-fall-asleep’ course, but holy smokes—even breathing seemed like a major task when you could barely peel your thoughts off the boy sitting a few rows in front of you.

hyunjin has always been the main attention-grabber wherever he went—and that includes yours.

it’s not like you denying it either. he is gorgeous, and even the heavens know you couldn’t help but glance in his direction whenever he’s in the room. hell, even a few of your initial sketches for last semester’s projects were inspired by hyunjin. it’s as if he had slowly solidified his spot as your muse—but what is this odd feeling gently fluttering between the rows of your ribcage?

a buzz from the pocket of your pants startled you out of your trance, and while you thanked the gods for sending you down here with a habit of putting your phone on constant silent, you peeked at the notification patiently perched on the screen of your phone—one nearly causing you a minor heart attack on the spot.

hyunjin: spot next to me is empty, you know

right—you forgot your position from a mere classmate-slash-secret-admirer has been upgraded to an actual acquaintance-slash-almost-friends of hyunjin’s, all thanks to that one final project from art history 101 class last semester.

you: being at the back is peaceful, thanks hyunjin: says the one who rushed for a front spot for literally any other class lol hyunjin: cmon, saved the spot for you

lord—now you’re genuinely glad you decided to wear that crusty baseball cap of yours today, or literally everyone would’ve noticed the way your cheeks had burned up into a bright shade of crimson.

you: geez hyunjin: cmoooon hyunjin: or i’ll literally ask mr. kang to move you here

the way your head snapped to find hyunjin’s playful yet determined gaze headed straight at you was not something you would’ve ever thought to add to your bingo board.

ever.

you: no you won’t hyunjin: try me

your eyes nearly doubled in size when you returned your line of sight in hyunjin’s direction, only to see the slow, comical way the long-haired guy is raising his hand while keeping his eyes on you, lips tipped up into a masked grin.

“yes, mr. hwang?”

fuck.

you scrambled on your phone while mr. kang—as well as the rest of the attendees of the class, fixed their eyes on hyunjin, quietly wondering what would come out of those lips of his.

“oh, i’m just wondering if—"

you: FINE I’M MOVING you: JUST SHUT UP you: PLEASE

And you swore you could see the way his lips turned into a victorious grin through the back of his head.

“if?” mr. kang repeated, seemingly a little impatient at hyunjin’s antics. to be fair, you actually felt the same way.

“if you have any movie or documentaries related to the topics you will be teaching this semester,” hyunjin’s voice rang loud and clear—as if the question had been his initial motive all along, and you’re simply a victim of his little magic trick.

“personally i do learn better through those mediums, mr. kang,” hyunjin perfected his question, smile as innocent as a puppy, and as he looked around the hall, scanning the dozens of nodding heads to his statement,

hyunjin made sure to lock eyes with you for a second longer.

“and i think my friends agree with me.”

“you’re an ass,” you hissed as soon as you secured the seat next to hyunjin, shooting daggers out of your eyes while the latter chuckled. given, hyunjin’s question did made your move less suspicious since mr. kang actually took a liking to the idea and decided to substitute one of the assignments into this movie presentation group project, but still—you were so close to losing your dignity in front of dozens of your peers, on the first day of the new semester.

“would’ve been easier had you listened the first time,” he playfully retorted, remnants of victory still glimmered in his eyes, “and now you know i’m a man of my words. win-win situation for both of us.”

“as if,” you groaned in annoyance despite failing to even make a dent to hyunjin’s victorious grin. “you are the only one benefiting from this, mr. hwang. i’m merely a victim in this scheme of yours.”

“ouch—mr. hwang? really now?” hyunjin placed a hand over his heart, pretending as if he has been shot despite the wicked smile plastered across his face, “do you really want to hurt me like that?”

if you were to be honest, you do enjoy your playful bickers with hyunjin. it made him less of a muse and more of a… human. a regular college boy, who just so happened to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself and sent here with an exceptional heart of gold.

like he’s just a boy.

“seemed fair enough,” instead, you replied with a mischievous grin while greeting a couple of hyunjin’s friends joining your little group.

“1-1, mr. hwang.”

the massive numbers displayed on your phone screen further validates the exhaustion you felt looming over your shoulders. it’s only the first week of the new semester and you’re already held up on campus way past your classes—how are you supposed to survive the rest of the school year?

to be fair, you really do love what you’re studying right now. it’s what you’ve always wanted to be since you were a child, and to be able to live out your inner child’s dream is one of your prides—but god, it did not make things easier to actually do.

just as you slipped your screen away, sparing yourself from a bunch of exhausting thoughts as your footsteps led you to your bus stop, a pack of gummy bear suddenly popped out of thin air in front of your eyes, causing you to stumble backwards onto the—

warm surface?

“i’m not a gummy sharing type of person, but i think you need this more than i do.”

pushing yourself off the other’s figure, you didn’t need to turn around to figure out the person’s identity—but you did anyway.

“gee, thanks mr. hwang,” you playfully snickered, snatching the bag of gummy and popped one unfortunate strawberry flavored bear in your mouth, “didn’t know you’re so kind.”

over the past week, you found out that you surprisingly have quite a lot of classes together with hyunjin and a few of his friends. you’re thankful he dropped the ‘i saved you a seat’ act by the third class you shared and let you actually sit amongst your friends, but in ways you don’t even understand, you somehow kept getting sorted in the same groups as hyunjin. well, at least now you no longer freeze up while hyunjin’s around.

“oh, can you drop that already,” hyunjin groaned, lips pursing into a subtle pout, “the others are starting to call me mr. hwang too thanks to you, you know.”

you couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip past your lips to hyunjin’s protest, already with a picture in your head about the whining he would’ve done once his closest friends started to pick up hyunjin’s objection to the nickname and used the name against him. how adorable he would’ve—

wait.

adorable?

hyunjin’s supposed to be simply your muse—maybe a fried at best! you don’t call your friends adorable, do you?

“you started it!” shaking your head in an attempt to rid the word from the nooks and crannies of your brain, you instead defended yourself while offering hyunjin the pack of gummies at the same time.

“what do you mean i started it!” hyunjin groaned, still popping a gummy in his mouth in the process, “i was just simply requesting your presence at the spot I have reserved for you!”

“and threatened to embarrass me if i didn’t move!” you deflected, playfully glaring at the latter. “don’t you dare omit that part, you sneaky weasel! i thought I was going to have to drop the class due to embarrassment!”

the crease between hyunjin’s brows grew thicker when he realized he couldn’t counter your protest, resulting in another pout to form on his lips, now clearer than before. it made you feel a little guilty—did you go a little too far? was he offended by the—

“i just wanted to get closer to you.”

…wait.

wait—what?

“i know it’s a lame excuse,” hyunjin’s groans turn muffled as he hid his face behind the palms of his hands, “it’s just—i don’t know, i find you fun? i know we just started talking after that group project but i like talking about stuff with you and even after the group project ended i just kept finding myself wanting to talk to you? i just—”

“whoa whoa—slow down!” you instinctively grabbed hyunjin’s shoulders; not too hard to shake him off, just enough to gently ground him back from his rambles. “breathe, you don’t need to explain anything to me, hyunjin. just breathe.”

well, frankly you do need an explanation—just… not from this adorably frantic hyunjin.

no, scratch that—just frantic.

not adorably.

just frantic.

hyunjin’s face was nearly the shade of the gummy bear packet you still had on your hand, and as much as you didn’t want to embarrass him more than he’s already feeling, your lips seemed to have their own plans when they curled up into a grin.

“don’t even say anything,” he warned, fingers now pointing at the rapidly growing grin on your face. “just don’t.”

you would honestly love to comply to hyunjin’s wishes, really—after all, you’re the type to honor and respect your friend’s wishes…

but is he just a friend?

“I’m not!” you stated, but despite throwing your hands up in a sign of defeat, hyunjin knew better when he noticed the constant degree of smile etched across your face,

“I just never would have thought that the campus crush,” you emphasized, trails of laughter already slipping past your lips in harmony to hyunjin’s exasperated sigh, “the mr. hwang hyunjin himself, is quite clumsy at making new friends.”

hyunjin was genuinely dumbfounded at your accusation.

“no i’m not!” he protested, subconsciously following your footstep as you got ready to catch your nearing bus, “it’s not that i’m bad at making friends, i just—”

hyunjin’s explanation were cut short when your bus finally arrived, prompting another frown to appear on his face when you hopped on without sparing him another glance. dejected, hyunjin turned around and—

“hyunjin!”

the speed at how quickly hyunjin turned on his heels at your voice nearly made you giggle. from one of the opened windows from the back of the bus, you locked eyes with hyunjin and smiled.

“text me your excuses and we’ll see if you’re actually good at making friends!” you shouted as the bus began to drove away, only allowing you to witness a faint ‘okay!’ along with an excited wave before hyunjin disappeared behind the curve of the crossroad.

well, maybe hyunjin is adorable after all.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[cutielando]

my love | l.n.

social media au

synopsis: in which you hard-launch your relationship on the internet

my masterlist

liked by y/n.official, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 4,567,389 others

landonorris my whole world. tagged: y/n.official

view all 794,867 comments

y/n.official i love you so much <3

landonorris i love you more baby <3

maxfewtrell you could have at least given me photo credits for having to put up with you two liked by y/n.official and landonorris

landonorris shut tf up

y/n.official don't listen to him, we love you max <3

carlossainz55 congrats mate!

landonorris thanks! now you can finally stop calling me lando norizz

y/n.official never stop calling him lando norizz, carlos

carlossainz55 wasn't planning on it

landonorris y/n.official whose side are you on?

y/n.official my own side

user1 OMFG I CAN'T BELIEVE THISSSSS. LANDO NORIZZ??????? 🤯🤯

user2 PARENTS

user3 mommy? sorry, mommy? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user4 pathetically sobbing into my pillow because of how cute they are

user1 same girl, same

mclaren can't wait to see you in the paddock, y/n! 🧡 liked by y/n.official, landonorris and 14,967 others

user5 our papaya boy found his papaya girl 🧡🥺🥺

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 978,475 others

y/n.official our hearts speak the same language 🧡 tagged: landonorris

view all 173,687 comments

landonorris you make me the happiest that i have ever been

landonorris i love you baby 🧡

y/n.official i love you more honey 🫶🏻

maxfewtrell such a simp

landonorris maxfewtrell let me be

lilymhe adorable !!! ❤️

y/n.official i miss you girl !!! 🩷🩷

lilymhe landonorris alex_albon double date?

alex_albon sigh...anything for you baby

landonorris the things we do for our girls

user1 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THEY'RE SO PRECIOUS 😩😩😩

user2 when will it be my turn 😭😭

user3 i'm so happy for them !! they look happy together

francisca.cgomes you are gorgeous together !! ❤️❤️

y/n.official i love you !! ❤️

user4 this is lowkey the couple we didn't know we wanted but needed liked by y/n.official

mclaren 🧡

user5 the mclaren admin is just as in love with them as we are liked by mclaren

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,856,394 others

y/n.official smile 📸 tagged: landonorris, lando.jpg

view all 362,869 comments

landonorris my heart smiles when i'm with you

y/n.official you're making me blush babe 🤭

landonorris 😏😏😏

user1 he's so head over heels for her 😩😩😩

user2 LANDO.JPG CONTENT?????

user3 will we see you at races after the summer break y/n.official?

y/n.official yes !!! i'll be there and i'm excited to meet all of you !! 🧡

user3 omg she actually replied i'm crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭

carlossainz55 he hasn't stopped talking about you while we were golfing this morning 😠

landonorris can't help it

y/n.official i'm the same, so 😋

liked by y/n.official, daniel3.jpg and 302,586 others

lando.jpg my muse tagged y/n.official

y/n.official you make me feel beautiful 😭🫶🏻

landonorris you are a goddess. i love you

y/n.official i love you so much 🥹

daniel3.jpg glad to see you taking pictures again

landonorris i have a pretty good subject to capture now

user1 she is so beautiful i can't 😩😩😩😩😩

user2 i wanna be her so badly 🥲

user3 i wanna meet her as badly as i wanna meet lando

user4 landonorris can you fight? cause we're coming to steal your girl

landonorris 🤺

francisca.cgomes you are gorgeous 😮‍💨

y/n.official no you are 😏

user5 being alive at the same time as y/n should be considered a blessing liked by landonorris

comments and re-blogs help us grow!!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[daisies-daydreams]

task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")

Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀 Word Count: 4.1k+

Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.

“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.

“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.

“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.

You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.

“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.

Us?

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.

“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.

“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.

“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.

“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.

“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.

“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.

“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.

“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.

“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.

“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.

The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.

“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.

“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.

Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.

“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.

You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.

As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.

You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.

“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.

“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.

The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.

“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.

“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.

“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.

“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.

“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.

“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.

“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.

“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.

“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.

“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.

“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.

“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.

“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.

“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.

“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.

“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.

“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.

“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.

“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.

“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.

“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.

“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.

“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.

“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.

“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.

+++

You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.

Was all of that just a dream?

Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[troublelcwyer]

#TROUBLELCWYER ⠀ — — A HIGHLY SELECTIVE & PRIVATE ACCOUNT CRAFTED FOR FAKEVZ.

Ianto Lúx Garciá was born as the first child of the successful lawyer Ravier Garciá and his wife Jade Garciá who worked as a nurse back then. He was born on the 12th October 1997 in Valencia, Spain where he spent the first 10 years of his childhood, loved and spoiled by his parents. At the age of 6 his mother got pregnant a second time and birthed a little girl they called Meredith. When Ianto was ten years old his mother got sick and the little family moved to Cardiff, in Wales to be closer to their mothers side of family. Even at a young age, the man knew he wanted to step into his father's footsteps and so it was no wonder when Ianto got accepted at law school where he absolved his studies in a little of three years before joining his father in their family law company. He moved to london where he lives together with his eight children while working for celebrities and big media companies as a lawyer.

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: legal work, living a double life, dangerous work, working with celebrities and powerful people, crimes & laws.

DO NOT INTERACT: Muse & Mun are both over 25 so everything under 21 is a NO GO. German and English are equally alright but english is highly preferred. Also dni if youre sensible to violence as this blog contains hard topics (ALL RULES ON CARRD)

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

[infinityyrp]

Muse List: Teen wolf 🐺

☆Sundina Gloriana Deaton-Villanueva (TW/BTVS/shadowhunters OC)

☆Mieczyslaw 'Stiles' Stilinski

☆Isaac Lahey

☆Kira Yukimura

☆Malia Hale

☆Vernon Boyd

☆Romeo Bennett (TW/TVD OC)

RULES and what I'm looking for:

☆Always looking for partners.☆

•25+ MDNI.

•All Muses 21+, mature and dark themes will be present. Looking for MXF or FxF Roleplays, with me in the F role for mxf: I NO LONGER DOUBLE UP! I PREFER THE FEMALE ROLE DUE TO UNFORTUNATE EVENTS OF PARTNERS NOT BEING EQUAL AND TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME AND MY MALE MUSES.

☆My Muse for my OC is always high: Replies, posts, and starters for her will be rapid fire. Medium-high activity.

♧My Muse for my cannon characters vary: so that means replies, posts, and starters for them will vary. Medium-Low activity.

•Looking for a partner to play as Derek Hale and Scott McCall: I am okay with Genderbent!F Muses for them as well! (If you need ideas for FC's I have a few in mind.) Please actually enjoy it and want to play them as well. It's not fun for anyone if both parties don't enjoy it.

•Looking for Clark Kent from Superman and Lois:

•Looking for a Faith Lehane from BTVS: My main OC has a slayer verse. She was a potential slayer (unfound) and when Willow did the slayer awakening spell, she arose to the occasion.

•Looking for Tasha Williams from The L word: But make it supernatural

•Looking for Angel Reyes from The Mayans: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for Ricky Underwood from SLOTAT: but make it supernatural.

•Looking for Jace Wayland from Shadowhunters: Post series.

•Looking for Zade Meadows from Haunting Adeline:

•Looking for Zeke Landon from manifest: But make it supernatural.

•Looking for all other cannon characters for platonic interactions— potential romance:

•No guarantee on interactions: just because you send a starter to me or reply to one of my open starters, does not mean I will reply to you. I will kindly decline a roleplay if I don't vibe with your style. I will never ignore you though, that's very rude and disrespectful. You will get nothing but kindness from me and I expect the same in return.

•Semi-selective.

•NOT GHOST FRIENDLY: Please be an adult and communicate the issue so we can either change things up or part ways respectfully.

•Mun is 29 almost 30: I am an adult and want to be treated as such. Drama will not be tolerated, if you can't respect me, you will get blocked.

•This blog is for entertainment purposes only: It's purely fiction and is supposed to be fun. I'm not here to fulfill some fantasy that you have, I am married and a mom and write for the storylines. Nothing more.

•No god-modding.

•Respect my limits and triggers and I'll respect yours:

No rape, pedophilia, blood incest, heavy mentions of abuse, heavy mentions of death, extreme gore, and bathroom play. Those are my HARD no's.

•My preferred method of roleplay is on Discord. My UN is: infinityyrp

TUPPERBOX IS A REQUIREMENT.

•I will roleplay here if need be.

•I prefer the female role, with the exception of my side/background male cannon characters.

•I will not accept anything less than a paragraph: Though my motto is always quality over quantity.

•I enjoy text style roleplays from time to time: Especially when things get busy for me/us.

•50\50 smut and story: Fluff will be kept at a minimum. I enjoy drama of all kinds(cheating, love triangles, double life, pregnancies, one night stands.) The list goes on. If that's not your cup of tea, then I'm not the partner for you.

•please be POC friendly: my main OC is a woman of color— Alan Deatons daughter.

•lgbtq+ friendly.

•I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but I do have the right to decline a roleplay, just as you do.

•Communicate effectively.

•Please be consistent: Consistency is key in my book. If I'm waiting days for a reply (without communication), I lose interest. I understand life happens, I have a job m-f, but I also know most of us have our phones on us at all times, and it literally takes 2 minutes to send a message explaining your absence.

•Please be willing to talk ooc and be enthusiastic about our stories: I like to make Playlists and plot and talk about our ships and be friends outside of the roleplay.

•Most important, have fun!

•Open starters will be in the comments: DM me about which one you like and I'll tag you in a starter on the TL or we can make a server on discord and go from there!

•You can add me on discord and message me anytime.

•My DMs are open for discussing potential partnership/plots.

•Kink friendly: Will discuss privately

•Taboo friendly: will discuss privately.

Are we besties yet?😉

Send an Emoji when you DM me to let me know you've read and understand my preferences and rules:

Thank you for your time! ❤️

[softly-potter]

White rose in Bloom Event - Day 6

Day six for WRW🌹hope you like this one!

@whiterose-fans-blog

Prompt: First kiss

Word count: 610

Warning: none

-

Ruby presses the back of her knuckles to her mouth, trying to slow her breathing as she watches Weiss brush out her hair.

Their last night together before Weiss goes back to Atlas, and yet Ruby had still not felt the timing. She’d dreamed of kissing Weiss for years, and now that she had the chance, she’d frozen every time.

“I think I'm all packed.” Weiss says, pulling Ruby from her thoughts. Blinking, Ruby drops her hand from her mouth, nodding quickly.

“G-good, that's good.” She replies, and Weiss raises a brow.

“Ruby, come on, are you still nervous about moving back with Tai?” Weiss asks, puts a hand on her hip. “I’m sure he’ll let you be just as independent as you are now. Trust me, when it comes to the dad department, you’re winning.”

Ruby smiles and settles on her haunches in front of her own bag. She had been packed since earlier this morning, her comic books settled nicely on top of her clothing, but she nervously double checked it anyways.

“Nah, I know,” Ruby says with a grin. “He’s the best.”

Her heels clicking on the wood floor paneling, Weiss walks across their dorm and sits on Ruby's bed, crossing her legs at the knees. “Is something going on? You know you can tell me anything right?”

Ruby looks up at her from her crouched position and finds Weiss beaming.

“I know, I-” Ruby swallows, standing straight before sitting next to Weiss. “You just make me nervous.”

Weiss lets out a laugh that sounds like the twinkling of bells. “Me? No way.”

“Yes way,” Ruby giggles. Weiss places a hand on her shoulder, fingers chilly before leaning close and pressing a chaste kiss to Ruby's cheek.

It could be friendly.

It could mean nothing. But Ruby is about to lose Weiss for the summer and she can’t let it slip by.

As Weiss begins to pull back, Ruby moves forward and presses her closed mouth to Weiss’. Weiss freezes, her hand clutched to Ruby’s shoulder, until her lips soften and she kisses her back.

Heart hammering, Ruby drops her chin, her lungs expanding before looking up nervously. Weiss’ eyes are wide, and she presses her hand to her mouth.

“That-”

“I’m sorry-”

They speak at the same time, and Ruby swallows thickly, nervous energy in her veins until Weiss’ face cracks, and she lets out a small laugh.

“What’re you apologizing for?” Weiss muses, scooting forward. “I’ve been thinking about that all semester.”

“You-” Ruby splutters, her face hot. “You have?”

Weiss rolls her eyes and cups the side of Ruby’s face, her thumb skimming over her chin. “Mhm. Now come back here.”

Closing the distance, Weiss kisses Ruby softly, her mouth smooth as her tongue runs across the seam of the other girl's mouth. Ruby hums in weak surprise, grabbing Weiss' wrist as she turns her face, relishing in the feel of Weiss against her.

It's soft and faint, Weiss’ tongue massaging Ruby’s in slow tandem. She tastes like sweet cream, her mouth plush and when she moans, Ruby feels a pull in her abdomen.

After a few moments, Weiss pulls away, scarlet painted on her pale cheeks, and it takes Ruby a few moments to remember to breathe correctly. Beside her, Weiss’ scroll buzzes and she swears as she reaches for it, her eyes rolling once she’s read the message.

“It’s my sister, I gotta go,” Weiss hums, and she grabs Ruby's hand, giving it a squeeze. “But… I look forward to doing more of that when we come back. Okay?”

Ruby smiles, squeezing Weiss’ digits and wishing she never had to let go.

[axnewxera]

// I've been deep in thought the last few days about Rufus and his character. I just started this blog and I'm still fleshing out my muse in my head.

So. I'mma dump some of my headcanon on the character, and this WILL affect how I RP him and this WILL get long and ranty.

(I'm sorry if the format is wonky, I'm laying in bed on mobile. Also spoilers of pretty much all FF7 media ahoy)

In the original game (and arguably in different levels in other media since then), Rufus is definitely presented as a villain.

His big introduction in the original game has him giving off this big speech to the party about how his father was too soft on the world with propaganda and narrative control and intended to instead rule through fear and intimidation. He stages a public execution of our party members late in the game. He tries to take Cid's plane instead of reviving the space program. He sent Cait Sith to act as a Shinra spy on our party (or at least was aware of this, as the Turks actively follow Cait Sith's intel). He bankrolled Avalanche to essentially backstab his father! He's very manipulative and deceitful and you can never quite trust him!

But honestly..... Nothing he's actually done has me convinced that he was ever actually a bad guy.

Yes, he SAYS how bad he is when you first meet him in the original. He definitely seems to WANT to be the big villain of the series. But Sephiroth's greater threat to the planet aside... Rufus is just not that guy.

Is Shinra, Inc. evil? Oh hell yeah. Heidegger, Scarlet? Yup. Hojo? LOL

But almost IMMEDIATELY after becoming president, Rufus started suppressing Heidegger and (presumably) Scarlet. Heidegger seemed to be THE dude for President Shinra. The two were very much in alignment in their goals and methods. And Rufus lowers him by berating him and never taking him seriously. Not to mention the fact that he basically started an eco-terrorist group to get his heartless evil father gone.

Even though he starts off saying how little the common people mean to him, his goals from very early on are to protect the world from Sephiroth, and to spearhead the effort to find the Promised Land. Even his execution of Barrett and Tifa is an attempt to comfort the people (and, I suspect, to draw Cloud out of hiding) - but he never seems too upset that they escaped the attempt. Or that Cait Sith remains on the party after his usefulness as a spy was over.

He comes off as arrogant and tricky, he sure does some mean things... but his intentions are noble, and his known tendency to play both sides of any conflict - secretly funding Avalanche, secretly funding the World Regenesis Organization, whatever amazing shenanigans are going on in the remakes with Wutai and Viceroy Sarruf - has me doubting that the "evil" stuff like the execution were even intended to actually take place. He's pulling strings to get people where he wants them.

Rufus can't just SAY what he wants. Advent Children is a good example - his intentions are much more openly "good", but no one believes him and there's all this doubt and "What is he really up to?" that swirl around his character. When it counted, he seemed surprisingly honest, yet it just pushed Cloud away.

If he came out as the president of this huge evil corporation and laid out his noble intentions to the world, everyone would doubt him every step of the way and his plans would never get done. Not to mention the very likely possibility that Heidegger and Scarlet and whatever supporters President Shinra still had would stage some sort of coup against him in that event. He still has to be a Shinra. So he does it to play the game, give the world or sometimes our party a villain to unite against, and get things done.

I also think Rufus sees HIMSELF as a villain, even though his intentions are pure. He's a Shinra, after all, and was raised by his father to be this heartless embodiment of pride and corporation. All that lying and manipulating and double-dealing leaves a mark on the psyche. He is fully comfortable presenting himself as the villain because he believes that's who he is, but he disagrees with his father's goals and methods so much that he actively sabotages himself.

I'm not sure if any of this was the writers' actual intent or if it's just all my interpretation, buuuuuut that's the fun of RP right? Getting to dig deeper and assign your own spin on the character.

[ladamedusoif]

Family (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 25

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications!

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 1903

Rating: Teen

Warnings: No physical description of reader; no use of Y/N; set after S3 of The Mandalorian; references to illness

Aliit ori’shya tal’din - Family is more than blood (Mandalorian proverb)

***

Din doesn’t get sick. Injured, sure. But sick? Never.

The strange, fuzzy feeling in his head is just a headache, he reasons to himself as he potters around the house, back early from a job and waiting for you to return from collecting Grogu from school in the town. You’ve been helping them out for a few months now, taking care of housekeeping and looking after the little boy when his father is away or busy during the day. 

Din likes having you around. In the beginning, he’d leave almost as soon as you arrived at their cabin, having travelled from the nearby farm you lived on with your widower father. But now, he lingered. He was glad when you suggested coming by on days when he was there, to help show him the basics of managing the household. He would never admit it, but he missed you when you went home in the evenings.

He pours a glass of water and tries to focus, bringing his hand to his forehead and being surprised to find it cold and clammy, even though he feels like he’s on fire. 

He can’t be sick, though. Not him. He sips the water and promptly splutters it back out as his body is racked with a hacking cough.

He can hear you and Grogu chattering as you approach the house. A few deep breaths and sips of water, and his helmet is back on before you’ve even opened the door.

***

It had become a habit to stay after picking Grogu up from school, to help out with preparing the main meal for him and Din. Din appreciates your help - he tells you how much he’s learned from you, and how much he still needs to know. 

Today, you stand side by side at one of the worktops peeling vegetables and chopping them into bite-size chunks to accompany the meat that’s cooking nicely in the oven, filling the little cabin with its aroma. You look over to see how Din is getting on, and are struck by the fact that his chopping is a far cry from its usual even, meticulous standard.

More worryingly, you’re sure you can hear him wheezing through his modulator. He’s leaning heavily on the worktop, as if for fear he’ll fall. 

“Din? Are you okay?”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”

No sooner has he resumed his work than a horrible, hacking cough has him bent double, gasping under his helmet. Even Grogu is scared - you can see it in his big dark eyes as he drops his toys and runs to comfort his beloved father.

“That’s not a headache, Din. You’re sick.”

The Mandalorian grips the edge of the counter and hauls himself up to his full, imposing height, Grogu still clinging to his leg. “I am not sick. I don’t get sick.”

You toss your knife on the chopping board. “Are Mandalorians somehow special, that they don’t get a simple cold, now and again?”

He does that exasperated sigh you’ve heard too often.

“Alright, Din. You’re not sick. But tell me how your body feels, being not-sick.”

That sigh.

“My head feels a little fuzzy. I have this slight cough. That’s it.”

“No fever?”

He shakes his head again, and you spot him tightening his grip on the counter. “I am fine. Now, can we please make some dinner?”

***

You tend to eat outside, on the veranda, if you’re eating with Din and Grogu. It means he can take off his helmet and eat comfortably, without revealing his face to someone outside his family.

You eat the last of your vegetables and survey the little garden the clan of two have cultivated, with your help. A little pond, a vegetable patch, even some desert flowers that bloom happily in the dry, sandy soil. 

A proper home for the little family, you muse. From what your father and Karga had told you about Din and Grogu’s past, you knew they deserved this little sanctuary.

Your reverie is shattered by the sound of distressed noises coming from inside the cabin - Grogu, babbling in panic and crying out with fear. You drop your bowl and are about to race inside when you stop, remembering that Din may well have his helmet off. 

“I’m coming in. Din? Just giving you fair warning.”

No answer. Just more frightened coos and what sounds like metal scraping on the floor.

“Din?”

Still nothing.

“Grogu? Is it okay for me to come in?”

The door to the cabin opens and the child races out and flings himself into your arms, pointing back into the house and babbling something in his curious mix of Basic and Mando’a about his father.

You understand as soon as you enter. 

There, on the floor of the kitchen, his helmet barely on, lies an unconscious Din Djarin.

***

With the help of Grogu’s powers, you lift Din and move him to his bed, still unresponsive. Din is definitely breathing, thankfully, but there’s a crackling wheeze in his chest that scares you as you manoeuvre his broad body onto the mattress.

If it was anyone else you’d be taking his temperature and preparing cold compresses for his brow. But this is a Mandalorian, one who takes his creed very seriously, and even the prospect of exposing Din’s chest feels like a violation.

When his body starts to tremble, despite the blankets you’ve pulled over him, you take an executive decision.

“Grogu?” He looks up at you from his spot beside his sick father on the bed. “I’m going to open up your dad’s shirt, just a little. I need to hear his breathing and try to cool him down. I’m not going to hurt him.”

With a coo and a nod he confirms that he understands. You expose just enough of Din’s broad chest to assess his temperature, the clammy, hot skin while Din continues to shiver proof of the severity of the fever. 

Grogu places his little hand on his father’s chest, eyes wide with fear and concern. He can heal many injuries, but the Force is no match for whatever virus or infection is raging through Din’s system. 

“We’re going to make your buir all better, I promise. Can you help me with that?”

He nods and hops off the bed, following you into the kitchen where you fill some bowls with cold water and find rags to make cold compresses. Grogu watches attentively as you place the damp cloths on Din’s chest, rising and falling with each shallow breath. 

“Now, you need to stay here and keep the cloths on his chest, okay? I’m going to try to make up some medicine to help make him all better.”

Before she died, your mother had taught you a few simple herbal remedies that could be easily prepared in advance, dried, and carried with you, in case of emergency. “Bacta is a wonderful thing,” she’d counseled, “until you find yourself in the middle of nowhere with a fever.”

You retrieve the little vials of dried herbs from your bag and set some water to boil, ready to make the infusion. The liquid turns an ominous purple colour as the herbs brew, and you can’t help but chuckle as you imagine how Din would react if you presented him with this in the whole of his health.

When the medicine has cooled enough to be administered, you return to Din’s simple, neat bedroom, where Grogu is dutifully pressing the cloths to his father’s chest. You praise him effusively, showing him how to wring out the cloths and make them colder again.

As you prop Din up on the pillows, you realise that you aren’t going to be able to give him the special medicine as you would anyone else. Gingerly, you push back his helmet just enough to expose his mouth.

You pause for a moment as you realise this is the most you’ve ever seen of the Mandalorian. Seeing the open expanse of his golden, battle-scarred chest and the peek of his jaw somehow seems more intimate than if Din was lying here completely naked. His mouth is pink and plush, and you are surprised to realise that Din has a moustache, as well as a patchy beard, of sorts. You push away the temptation to peek further, as well as the desire that’s rising inside you.

“Help me give your buir this medicine, Grogu. Can you keep his helmet at this angle for me?”

The little boy is only too keen to help, and you slowly, steadily, feed Din the mixture you hope will heal him.

***

Other than changing the water and the compresses, you do not move from Din’s side all night. Grogu falls asleep on his father’s chest, and you scoop him up and bring him to bed, placing a little kiss to his fuzzy scalp as you tuck him into his cot. He coos sleepily in appreciation.

You are waiting for Din’s fever to break, the turning point in any illness like this. If it doesn’t happen tonight, you’ll need to seek a medic in the morning. 

His helmet is still up slightly, and you study the line of his jaw, the little divot in his lower lip, the dark hair of his moustache. You trace the scars on his body, wondering about the stories behind each one, feeling a simultaneous sense of relief that he is still here and dread at the prospect of this man being wounded - or worse - in the future.

In the darkest hours of the night, with Din’s breathing still heavy and laboured, you find yourself reaching for his hand: running your fingertips over his broad palm and thick fingers before holding it gently, willing the herbal mixture to do its work. He is all Grogu has, after all. He is his entire family, and vice versa. 

And what are you?, asks a little voice inside you. Is this your clan, too?

You have pressed your lips to the back of his hand before you realise what you’re doing.

***

His stirring wakes you to the half-light of early morning, your hand still wrapped around his.

“Din?”

He tries to sit up, reaching in panic to adjust his helmet when he realises how much of his face is exposed.

“Din, take it easy…” You press your hand to his chest and sigh with relief as you realise his temperature is normal.

“What…why - what happened?”

“You were sick, had a bad fever - you’ve been out since yesterday afternoon.”

“I don’t get sick.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle. “Yes, you do. Hate to break it to you.”

You swear you can hear a huffed laugh from under his helmet.

“Din, I… I’m sorry for opening your shirt, lifting the helmet - I had to, it was the only way to help. I only saw part of your jaw, but… I’m so sorry.”

To your surprise, he reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m grateful. You didn’t have to stay here.”

I wanted to take care of you. I want to take care of you. I need to take care of you.

“I couldn’t have left you. Anyway, what would we - I mean, what would Grogu do without you?”

Another gentle squeeze of your hand.

“What would I do without you, cyare?” 

[soft-girl-musings]

An Unexpected Proposition (pt. 1)

based on this prompt from @imaginexhobbit, previously submitted under @jawn-i-made-coffee

cross-posted to ao3

part 2

Kíli x fem!Reader

tags: mentions of blood/injury, Reader is described as tall (by human standards), Y/N is used

wc: 1,615

fic summary: An injured dwarf appears on your doorstep. Do you grant him sanctuary on this stormy night?

A/N: posting this is totally self-indulgent and very out of left field for this blog but idc, we just reached 800 ao3 hits on this bad boy (some days we blog for the younger self anyway). I submitted this from my high school blog and revamped it in 2020, might flesh it out beyond pt 2 if the muse strikes.

Thunder and lightning seem to battle for superiority in the storm, chasing heavy torrents North. The evening is dark and damp, but you don’t mind. Your cottage is as safe a haven as any. You sit before your hearth, fire blazing as you bury yourself beneath several blankets, a mug of tea warming your lap. Nothing could ruin your cozy evening alone.

As if on cue, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminates the windows. A bloodied man’s face is pressed against the glass, his lips moving incoherently. You stifle a scream. In an instant you have your sword in hand and cloak about your shoulders, ready to face your intruder. Throwing the door open, you strike a defensive stance and scan the property. To your right, you see that it is no man at all, but a dwarf bleeding out in your garden. Dark hair clings to his face, bruised and battered. Blood marrs his complexion as rainwater drenches him. Before you can speak, the dwarf doubles over and begins to heave into your prized rose bush. You grimace.

"Please," he rasped, "please, I ask for sanctuary." His knees give way with the last syllable. You manage to catch him before he falls into the mud.

"I’ve got you, sir dwarf." Propping him up, you guide him inside. "Poor thing, you're soaked to the bone."

His small frame would not have been so heavy if not for his copious belongings. The dwarf seemed to have packed for a long journey, which had somehow led him to your door. You stumble over to the kitchen and deposit him in a chair, his head lolling to one side. You pour a cup of water and help him drink.

“Thank you,” he manages to rasp after downing a second glass. Life seemed to be returning to him already. “I do not mean to be a bother.”

You tilt your head quizzically. “If anyone’s bothered, sir dwarf, it’s you. Come, let me help you--” you assist him in his efforts to remove his belongings from his weary shoulders. He shivers fiercely, but does not refuse your help.

You notice how cold and pale he is. “Best not to strain yourself… let me start a bath for you. Your wounds need to be cleaned before they are dressed.”

You hand him a blanket and lead him to a partition in the next room. “Here, you can wrap yourself in this while I start the water.” The dwarf removes his outer layers and complies, his dark eyes never leaving you as you begin the tedious task of hauling numerous pots of hot water to the tub.

“Why are you helping me?” he finally asks, his face growing more puzzled with each trip you make.

You stop in your tracks, offering a shrug. “Because you asked.”

With that, you leave him to his bath.

You gather the dwarf’s wet clothing and lay each article in front of the still-warm stove. On the other side of the table lay his daypack and weapons. You hadn’t taken the time to inspect them before: the dwarf had been carrying archery equipment, numerous knives, and a shortsword. You examine each piece with reverence. The dwarves were renowned for their craftsmanship in the forges, but you had never seen proof of their handiwork until this moment. The blades were smaller than any you were used to, expertly fashioned with intricate detail.

"Like what you see, then?"

You jump at the sudden voice, dropping a knife. The dwarf had come out dressed in the shirt and trousers you had laid out for him. He stands by the fire, drying his hair.

"I was just admiring your weapons, sir-"

"Kíli."

You nod. "(Y/N)." You notice the color has already returned to his skin and his cuts were clean. He had looked much worse before; in the light of the fire, he was almost handsome. "Feeling any better?"

"Oh, loads. I cannot thank you enough for taking me in." He grins, and you can’t help but follow suit.

"What were you doing out there? Facing that storm as you were seemed like a deathwish."

"I had the misfortune of running into some bad company at your tavern." His body fell heavily into a chair by the fireplace.

"I'm afraid the locals do not take kindly to dwarves," you say with an apologetic smile, standing to join him in your earlier seat. "What are you doing so far West? Your people are native to the mountains, I was led to believe."

You realize how young the dwarf was when his face breaks out in another eager grin. "I'm on a quest. I was on my way to Hobbiton."

You lean forward, intrigued. "The Shire? What kind of quest concerns the halflings?"

Kíli tells you of his Uncle's plan to reclaim Erebor for the dwarves. He makes sure to highlight how dangerous the task may prove to be. You try to hide your amusement, but your shaking shoulders and involuntary simper do not escape your companion's eye.

Kíli crosses his arms. "Is something funny?"

You wipe a tear from your cheek. "I'm sorry, but you look like you've seen nary a battle in all your days."

"What, like you have, lass?" he scoffs, nodding toward your sword propped by the door. "I'll bet you've never laid a hand on that weapon of yours until tonight."

Your expression darkens. "Watch your words, sir dwarf. I have seen and spilt more blood than you would care to believe."

Kíli shrinks back in his chair. "Y-yeah? When?" Even under correction, his excitement could not be diminished.

You tell him of your past days as a soldier. Having always been tall for your age, you had cut your hair and enlisted in a male disguise when you were barely sixteen. You regale him with tales of the lands you had seen and battles you fought as a young woman among hardened men. The fading storm is the perfect backdrop for your stories; in truth, it had been a long time since you'd been able to talk about your fighting days, and you revel in the drama of the moment. Kíli clings to your every word, apparent awe and admiration dancing across his features. Many hours and cups of tea pass between you before you conclude your saga, the fire having long since died down.

You yawn. Dawn was but a few hours away. "It's late. You must leave in the morning, I assume?"

"Yes, I have to get back on the road."

You stand and stretch your aching muscles. "We should both get to bed, then. I have an extra room you're welcome to." You hold out your hand. "Goodnight, Kíli."

Kíli rises and takes your hand, but instead of shaking it as you intended, he leans forward and kisses the back of it. Your face grows warm at the surprising softness of his lips. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

He turns to leave, but stops and looks back at you.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave that kind of life? You spoke so fondly of your time in service."

You give a sad smile. "Let’s just say it wasn’t by choice." You begin to walk to your bedroom, but Kíli grabs your hand as you pass.

"If you had the chance, would you go back?"

You squeeze his hand and wink. "In a heartbeat."

__________

"What's all this, then?" You laugh. From the looks of it, Kíli had been cooking a small feast since before dawn.

"Good morning, my lady!" Kíli wipes his hands on a cloth and bows with great bravado. "I hope you don't mind me raiding your larder. I wanted to express my gratitude for your generosity." He takes your hand and leads you to the head of the table, fixing your plate once you sit down.

"You really didn't have to do this."

"Ah, 'course I did! I'd have drowned if it wasn't for you."

You spend the morning laughing and eating your way through the meal with Kíli, realizing how much you will miss his company in the days ahead. He’s been a refreshing change of pace for the simple monotony you’d build for yourself. As you wash the dishes after your meal, you notice he is dressed in his clothes from last night, weapons and bag secured to his back.

"All set, then?" You know your face betrays you, but you don’t care if he knows how sad you are. You had gained a friend last night.

"Not quite." He practically bounds up to your side, that familiar grin plastered onto his features. "I have something to ask of you."

You set down the plate you had been scrubbing. "And what's that?"

"Will you join me? On my quest, I mean?" His face is radiant with expectation and excitement.

You busy yourself with another dish, shaking your head. “Kíli, I’m not quite sure what to say-"

"Say yes! (Y/N), you told me yourself that you missed your old life. This would be the perfect chance for you to reclaim it!"

Despite all logic, you realize how right he is. Some small but powerful part of you had longed to be on the road with him when he spoke to you last night. You knew it was rash, but your heart was already pumping from the mere mention of excitement, aching to get out in the world once more. The quiet life you had been leading was nice, but it paled in comparison to the journey Kíli now offered. You craved adventure. When else would you have the opportunity to taste it?

"I'll have my things packed within the hour."

__________

A/N: you ever feel an old hyperfixation staring you down, threatening to return if you look at it too long? that might be happening again. only time will tell.

tysm for reading!

[drgreysonmd]

(HOW WE FEELING ABOUT THE GREYSON FACE REVEAL TONIGHT🗣️⁉️)

(MOD💜TALK

Yo I was so excited I literally immediately started drawing him, and then hyperfixated all day and then did nothing but just sit in my feels. This is gonna be a long one about some blog stuff too, mates, so strap in!

@flamesque 's Mun LITERALLY had to hold my hand because I CRIED I was so nervous to see his face 😅🤣 it was the happiness of the game finally giving him all the attention I'd always wanted him to have, but the double edged sword of going

"Oh shit. Now everything I've grown so attracted to is officially wrong."

And so I had to sit here all day while I've painted and spoken to friends and fellow muns and just... had to really take a step back and think about how I was going to overhaul everything here too.

So the positive answer is- I'm SO EXCITED because I've already seen so many people talking about him and even my beloved @rose-tinted-kalopsia is planning on writing for him and maybe this means more fanworks for him! It's been very lonely in my little corner with just me screaming about how lovely he is and throwing out headcanon posts and snippets and art and

I get it. It can be hard to love a faceless man in a very visual game. No shade. I'm just happy and hopeful more people will engage in him as a character now!

I also think he's fucking ADORABLE. His glasses and his cute cheekbones and his grey blue eyes bc ofc he'd have grey eyes when his name is fucking Greyson (I swear to God everyone loves to hurt me with puns 🥴🤣) I'd love to see a little bit of a hairstyle change but I've already hit on that. Overall I love him. Very cute, 10/10, totally smashable. I'm getting Bedazzled Brendan Fraser vibes and I'm here for it.

On the less positive side- it's like saying goodbye to a very dear friend. This Grey, MY Grey has become somewhat of a very special blorbo to me. He ended up being like a half oc-half canon character and idek how it happened but it DID and here I lay very distraught and attached to him and it's a little heartbreaking to retire him, if that makes any sense.

It's been quiet here for a while partially due to personal stuff, but also partially due to my sensing the changing in the winds after the story update of No Morning. They've done a lot of lore building with him that while it doesn't give him any actual back story, it's changed or developed parts of his personality that really have diverged him from the Greyson we got snippets of early on. And I'm not mad about that mind you, he's still adorable and I will stand by him until my dying breath, but it's very clear that the Grey I've written, and the Grey they're writing now are diverging very quickly and I need to separate them rather than try and salvage a blend. It was bound to happen when the only thing we had to go on was as a side character in an anecdote, a side character in a single card, and a couple moments posts early on. 🤷‍♀️ (oh and that one Twitter interview).

I've contemplated making mine an OC (just another Dr at Akso) and keeping all the lore and backstory and stuff as his, and gutting this profile back to canon material ONLY, but once again that leaves it as very... well.... barren. I do believe there will be a lot more in store for him in the future, it's just gonna take a while (bc he's a side character so of course, it makes sense) so it might feel like I've kind of hurt or abandoned this place in the meantime, which is definitely not what I want either.

All in all there will obviously be some huge changes happening here, I'm just not entirely sure what they are yet and what that means for active threads too 😅 I have a lot of options so it's just down to figuring out which ones speak to me heart and Muse.

I realize this is probably all waaaaaaay more than you intended to ask so I'm sorry, but thanks for letting me gush all my feels out ahhhhhh♡)

[tearfallpixie]

Trust and Love - Chapter 9: Back on Tour

Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999

@lyschko666 @vinyardmauro @skulliecadaver-blog @some-daniela @latenightmusiclover @rye14-blog1 @somewhere-diamond @Shilohrosechicken @abiomens @awkwardalex @rumoured-whispers @miss570

“So what did my dad want to say to you?” I asked as we were driving back to Vinny’s place. They both looked at each other and then back at the road.

“Nothing. Just more threats of if we didn’t protect you he would kill us.” Vinny mumbled. I raised my eye suspiciously but didn’t say anything. We got back to his place and all went inside where I immediately started cleaning up our forgotten breakfast dishes.

“Baby girl. Stop for a moment.” Ricky said taking the dishes from my hand and setting them back down.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Are you ok? You were literally held at gun point a couple of hours ago.” He murmured softly. I looked between him and Vinny who looked very concerned.

“Honestly? Yes. I promise. It was scary but he’s locked back up and I’m fine.” I admitted, surprised at the truth behind my words. I squirmed under their hard gazes for a second before Ricky nodded, finally deciding he believed me. “Love, I promise if I had any issues, I would tell one of you.”

“Ok. I’m just worried about you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed in content as his wrapped around my waist tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you.” I repeated. Vinny took me into the living room and we cuddled on the couch as he scrolled through Zillow to look at houses in the area.

“I was honestly surprised your parents were so ok with you having two boyfriends.” He mused.

“They are very open minded. I love them so much.” I clicked on a house that had four bedrooms and 5 bathrooms. “Hey, look at this one!” Each of the bedrooms had their own bathroom and there was a communal full on the main level too. The basement was already finished and actually had a perfect area to set up a soundproof recording booth for Ricky and Vinny’s instruments. Ricky sat on my other side and looked at the house.

“That gives each of us a bedroom for our own use too. I could have an office. Olive could set up a photography studio. Vinny could have a streaming room.” Ricky pointed out.

“Its on three acres too so neighbors wouldn’t be super close.”

“Its literally perfect.” Vinny mumbled.

“Book us a time to go see it.” Ricky said with no hesitation before leaving to finish up whatever he was doing in the kitchen.

“This is real. We’re really going to live together.” I whispered.

“Yes we are.”

~~~~

“Ready to be back on stage?” I asked Vinny. I was putting on his black makeup before the concert and he was a ball of nerves.

“Yes. I know it was only a month break but I’m so fucking excited.” He exclaimed.

“Motionless! Places.” The stage manager called. I set the sponge down and double checked that he was all covered.

“You’re good.” I nodded.

“You are amazing. Can I get a good luck kiss?” I rolled my eyes but pressed my lips to his.

“Go, I love you.”

“I love you too.” A hand touched my back and I turned to see Ricky walking by.

“Where’s my good luck kiss?” He rumbled. I leaned up and kissed him too. “Thank you, baby girl. I love you.”

“I love you too dork.” I watched the rest of the band file out.

“No pictures tonight, Olive! You’re watching from the pit.” Chris called as he walked off. I saw their head of security Tom smirk at me and tell me to follow him. He led me down to the barrier and put me just outside against the wall.

“Enjoy the show.” He called. This wasn’t discussed beforehand, so I was confused. I enjoyed the concert anyway. I nearly melted into a puddle during the parts where Ricky was singing because it felt like he was singing to my soul. A couple of the fans recognized me as Rickys girlfriend and asked for pictures which was cool but it wasn’t until the last few songs that I started really noticing something was up. Ryan and Justin came over at some point during the songs and made sure I specifically got a pick. During a part of the second to last song where there was no drums Vinny stepped down and gave me one of his drumsticks with a wink.

Finally during Eternally, as Chris was tossing his roses he whispered something to the security guard in front of me and pointed to me. The guard moved the barrier and pulled me back through leading me up to the stage. Chris had one rose left and he came over to me and took my hand, kissing the back of it before placing the rose in it. When he moved it was time for the soft part of the song where Ryan was the only one playing. I looked up to see Ricky walking towards me with his guitar dropped behind him and I gasped, finally putting together all the pieces. He took my free hand and kissed it before dropping to his knee.

“Olive, I know we haven’t been together for very long, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else. I’ve already asked your father and Vinny if it was ok that I do this. I love you so fucking much. Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Of becoming Mrs. Olson?” He opened a box that I hadn’t previously noticed to show me the most beautiful ring.

“Yes. Yes.” I cried, covering my face with my hands. He took my hands away and slipped the ring on my finger before pulling me into a deep kiss.

“I love you, Mrs. Olson.” He whispered into my ear. He led me off stage where Vinny was already waiting. The drummer pulled me into a hug of his own.

“Thank you.” I sniffled into his shoulder. “Go, you have to do your bows.” I shoved both of them towards the stage. Vinny pulled Ricky into a hug before both of them ran out to the crowd once more. Once they were all done Vinny and Ricky flanked me and pulled me into the green room.

“I couldn’t do this in front of the crowd because you are Rickys girl but I guess this is kind of my own proposal. I know we’ve been together for a month but it feels like so much longer. If you are interested, I would like you to be my wife in private. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” Vinny pulled out a box to show me the ring he got. Rickys was a simple ring with a black stone in the middle and two diamonds on either side. Vinny’s ring was the exact same except it held a red stone instead.

“Yes you fucking dork.” I exclaimed. Ricky took the rings from me and held them out.

“These two are actually specially made. They are designed to lock together and make one ring.” He hooked them together and slid them on my finger once more. “That way there is no question about wearing two rings.”

“I love you two so much.” I sobbed, pulling both of them into a hug again.

“Congratulations Mrs. Olson-Mauro.” Chris teased when he entered the green room.

“Mmm. I like the sound of that.” Ricky mused.

“I second that.” Vinny grinned.

“If I could legally go by that I would.” I sighed happily, still unable to tear my eyes away from the rings.

“Well then at home, in our new house, you will officially be Mrs. Olson-Mauro.” I finally snapped away.

“New house?” Vinny handed me some papers and I read over them. “Our offer was accepted?!” I exclaimed.

“Yep. All that’s left to do is go sign the contract and we can move in.”

“Careful guys. I think you might overwhelm her with all this news.” Justin laughed.

“No, no. I’m good.” I whispered.

“Let us get changed and we can all go celebrate at the hotel. How does that sound?” Ricky whispered in my ear. I nodded and slumped onto the couch to watch them all remove their makeup and costumes.

[elizabethrobertajones]

While I'm busy making every other post on my blog about Wyll Ravengard...

I can't stop thinking about how utterly doomed he was as the Duke's son and the huge plan unfurling in the shadows of Baldur's Gate... Like, he would have been killed or imprisoned or seduced to the dark side thinking he was doing the right thing or just tadpoled immediately and been a True Soul that was a more subtle target than just snatching his father outright on Day 1 of initiating the Absolute Plan. Would have found out something mildly suspicious was going on and leaped right in and been overwhelmed, or been snatched off the streets by cultists... Whatever it would have been, he was dead meat.

Point is, I don't want to condone Mizora at all, but like, he was alive, and made a "choice" and had ""agency"" and """freedom""" and was allowed most importantly to keep his personhood and sense of justice and I guess Mizora just found it really funny to keep a pet hero and stoke him up and she could thrive on the irony of it all because he was never corrupted into being an edgelord who enjoyed the darker side of it... The fact his personality got through it intact is the most important part of his whole character as you start to learn about him and realise he actually is That Nice.

Since it got him out of the city and kept him away from the heart of the plotting, and even the situation that he'd been exiled and the generic [Balduran] conversation choice is either "huh I heard vaguely you'd gone" or "I literally did not know you existed" it's obviously not talked about much. Like, he's WAY under the radar. (Hilariously, later when you get to BG proper, not being recognisable because of Mizora devilling him up double helps with being incognito on top of him having not been home in so long anyway that some people forgot he existed.)

Just musing on how he did seem to get maybe the easiest and safest scenario possible by finding one of the only ways to pry him out of the otherwise destined life he'd have lead riiiight up until the Absolute stuff caught up with his family and he would have been defenceless, oblivious and right in the middle of it all. And like. Yeah, okay, don't do demon deals kids. But it is hilarious how Mizora airlifted him miraculously out of a destined certain death.

[swagmagussupreme]

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 8: Free day

I, uh... thought it would be cute to do something like my christmas oneshot, just putting all the rubys and weisses from Knights of the White Rose, Darkening Horizons, and Biotechnical Engineer, but... uh... it ended up sad. whoops. sorry for anyone who doesn't have the context for these, but the idea hit me and i ran with it. c'est la vie.

cw for suggestive content, mentioned drug abuse/addiction, and mentions of all the shit that's in Darkening Horizons/Twilight Concerto. Spoilers for all of them, too, and this obviously isn't canon to these stories lol. If only.

At this point, Weiss wasn't really weirded out by anything— losing an arm does that to you— so when she slid into a booth between two Weisses, it didn't even feel like anything. She'd already had that Christmas thing with ol’ medieval-Weiss, but the third one was different. She was, like… a robot. She had spindly robot legs and porcelain doll-looking arms, and her voice (which had the heaviest High Atlesian accent of them all) did a weird double tone sometimes.

And with three Weisses came three Rubys, which was considerably less weird than the robot-Weiss. Old-timey Ruby was much more scarred in the face, now— moreso than everyone at the table, combined— and wore the third Ruby’s big canvas coat over what was a pretty fucking skimpy tunic. She seemed distantly troubled.

And the third Ruby was just… older, like Weiss³ was, and a little closer to the thick side than the other ones. She didn’t even have any visible marks or old wounds on her. What was weird was how many obscene, worryingly dark hickeys and bite marks were glaring out from her neck and collar, taunting the other Weisses in their virginity. Weiss Prime stared at Weiss³, searching for any similar marks.

She didn't see any, at least for a bit. Then she blinked. She blinked harder, wiping her eyes. Had… had she purposefully failed to fully conceal the giant, hand-shaped bruises around the entirety of her throat. What the fuck was wrong with these freaks!

Weiss swallowed, shuffling in her seat. Weiss³ stared at her smirkingly. Old-timey Weiss looked at the woman’s neck with pure, genuine confusion. 

Ruby— her Ruby, Ruby Prime, eyepatch and all— smiled awkwardly before pulling the menu up to her face. Weiss blinked, her mind tugged by a little realization.

“Wait, aren't I supposed to be a hostage? Why am I here?”

The other Weisses gave her a look of horror. The other two Rubys did, too, but Ruby Prime was the only one to speak with a surprisingly humored snort. “Yeah, and I'm supposed to be going through a whole magic-curse-DID-type thing to cope with all the trauma and the horrifying visions of the future that I'm regularly assaulted with— you would hate my alter.”

Weiss blinked. Weiss blinked. Weiss blinked.

Two Rubys blinked. 

“But let's not think about—”

“I just killed someone,” medieval-Ruby stated, her voice coming low out of her silence. “Well, he died and I let it happen on purpose. Then I, uh… might have gone mad. Slashed his neck.” She tightened the coat around herself. “He killed mom. Even if mom was bad, he… he killed her.”

“I developed a craving for sap,” that Ruby’s Weiss said, her voice strange, affected by some kind of tremor or something. Weiss looked at her hands and noticed they had an underlying quiver, then got to watch as that Weiss pulled her cheek aside, displaying four giant fangs slicing from her gums on one side, replacing her top and bottom canines and their neighboring incisors, with a matching set of four more on her other side. “It's a magical substance from the Forever Fall, I imbibed too greedily and it shifted my body. Now I'm afflicted by a compulsion towards it. It is… not pleasant.”

“Holy shit,” Weiss Prime mused, leaning closer with Weiss³ to get a closer look at her fangs— and they were fangs, and they were— “Badass!”

Fang-Weiss reeled. “Wh-what? Bad… what? What does that mean!”

“Geil!” Weiss³ added, getting an immediate nod followed by intense confusion from Weiss Prime.

“Sprichst du—” Weiss shook her head and interrupted herself, focusing instead on her old-timey counterpart. She shook her shoulder, her expression in its best attempt at genuine encouragement. “You can beat this addiction! Your fangs are cool as hell!”

She looked to Ruby Prime for approval, only to be surprised by mirrored approval from all three Rubys— a doting smile, a warm silver gaze— and it was all kind of too much. She couldn't help herself, okay! She was still a teenager! So what if the thought of all three Rubys at once was enough to make her blush! Gods, she was worse than Weiss³!

After a period that really shouldn't have been so long, a server swung by the table— a tall guy with caramel skin, black hair tied back in a tight ponytail, and black cat-ears. The pre and post-Rubys reacted the quickest and most smoothly— the most scarred Ruby merely raised her brows before shrugging without worry, and the least scarred Ruby only gave the faunus’ features a passing glance before realizing she had a menu to order from.

The Weisses reacted… differently, to say the least. Perhaps the fanged Weiss hadn't noticed Blake’s faunus features before, but nobody had said anything about the weird elf-looking Blake, either, so she stared in pure shock at the guy’s cat ears. Robo-Weiss openly glared at them like they'd jump out and bite her, and not in the fun way that she clearly enjoyed. The server returned their wary looks, but took the unanimous, mouthed apologies from the prime couple as a good excuse to leave, with a last request of waters being called out by Ruby Prime.

“Vat in ze fuck vas zat?” Weiss³ (which Weiss realized was like ice-cube, which made her kinda miss Yang’s jokes, which made her realize Yang was probably having a nasty six-way with all her Blakes and Yangs, which made her gag) spat. “I thought zose people vere extinct!”

Weiss cringed into a singularity. 

“Cool it on the racism, babe,” Rube-cubed smoothly advised, and wow her voice was… wow. “Things are different here. Better, right?”

She sent a questing look to eyepatch-Ruby, which was answered with an unfortunate wince. “Ehhhhhh?” she tepidly said. “Not… really? Not at all? Better than extinct, but… I mean, racism’s obviously super bad and looked down upon, but, like, realistically? Yeah it's bad.”

“Ah, you hear that?” Ruby³ said, smirking at her own partner. “It's bad. No racism, Weiss.”

“But—”

“Babe! They're literally extinct! They’ve only ever lived in our history books!” Ruby hissed, keeping her voice quiet but still hot. “Give ‘em some slack, okay?”

Weiss-cube huffed, but crossed her metal arms and begrudgingly nodded. Her Ruby offered a smile in return. That seemed to mull her over.

“But what was that?” Weiss’ medieval clone asked, her voice hushed. 

“Who,” Weiss Prime gently corrected. “And he is a faunus. Sort of a, uh…” oh wow ‘animal-person’ would sound super racist. “A person with… different… features?”

She gave her girlfriend a beseeching glance. Ruby rolled her eyes fondly. “You can say animal features, babe. Like, they are the features that are shared between faunus and animals. Cat ears, tails, claws, et cetera.”

Oh fuck, she called her ‘babe’, and just like the hot Ruby— the other Ruby! Not hot! Her Ruby was hot! 

Weiss’ brain had a minor internal meltdown, during which time she vaguely could hear another conversation between her Ruby and the old-timey Weiss.

“So, you guys don't have faunus?”

“Non.”

“Then your Blake is…”

“Fay.”

“And what's that? An elf?”

Ruby-cubied piped up loud enough to shock Weiss out of her blushing reverie, almost shouting, “Your Blake’s an elf?”

That Weiss scrunched her face up tight enough to show her fangs. “Non? She is a fay. From the fay realm, the Shimmer.”

Weiss Prime, fresh off a cognitive blending, stupidly asked: “Did you hate her, too?”

The fanged Weiss shrank into herself, wincing as if her words had been a physical strike. “Er… yes. I did. But she hates me more, and for good reason. We— my family— have done terrible things to them. I fear I will never grasp the true extent of what harm I have given them.”

The scarred Ruby leaned forward and captured her hand between her own, her face soft with an unguarded, gentle loving that Weiss had never seen— not even from her own Ruby. It made her envious. 

“Weiss,” that mangled Ruby said smoothly, then: “‘Babe,’” with a look seeking approval from the other Rubys, getting thumbs-up and big grins. “It's really not your fault. You're making amends now.”

Weiss only pursed her lips tight, making the bumps over fangs obvious against her mouth. She didn't seem as eased as Weiss Prime would've been.

The server returned with a round of waters, getting no more bewildered looks from old-timey Weiss and no more glares from Weiss³, and left after the one-eyed Ruby requested more time to order. The couple cubed took to their menus without issue. Ruby Prime leaned across the table and offered to share a plate of sliders, which her girlfriend agreed to with only a little bit of disdain.

Weiss leaned back into the booth and watched her Ruby explain what a menu was and how it worked to the illiterate, medieval Ruby, who also needed help understanding what all the food items were. She felt a warm smile crawling over her lips. That was her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. Even if they'd been officially together-together and in each other's presence for less than a day, Ruby was her girlfriend. Finally. She could just lean over the table and kiss her. She could do that. She would. She was doing—

“Er, Weiss? Me?”

The Weiss with fangs poked her in the side, her face thoroughly twisted with confusion. “Weiss Prime,” Weiss summated, using what she already did in her own head.

“I am not going to call you that,” Ren-Faire Weiss said. “What do I do with this?”

She waved her menu. It flopped like a dead fish. Weiss felt like an idiot. “Oh, uh… it's food. It's all food, listed with its ingredients and calorie count beneath each item.”

“What is a… cal-or-ee?”

“Don't worry about that,” Weiss waved her off, pointing to the menu. “You'll probably want something like this. It's a salad. Leafy greens—”

The Weiss with two normal arms scowled. “I know what a salad is.”

“Oh, er…”

“I want to know what un cheese-burger is. What is ‘burger?’”

Weiss cringed at the thought of such a virgin stomach handling that level of grease. “Uh… not something you want. Just trust me on the salad, its—”

The fanged Weiss shot out a finger, and Weiss suddenly found her lips sealed under a painfully cold layer of ice. “Non. I will be trying it.”

Weiss tried to pull the ice off, to no avail. She sent a pleading look to her Ruby, who returned a pitying smile before leaning towards the old-timey Weiss. She extended a hand towards the frazzled, white-haired girl, her smile smooth enough to make Weiss jealous. “Could you unfreeze my girlfriend? Her lips are, unfortunately, important to me.”

Weiss’ lips went from frozen to wet as melted ice sloughed down her face and into her shirt. Her cry was immediate: “Unfortunately?”

Ruby leaned back in her chair and snickered, then had to tip her head all the way back as mirth took her. “Your face! Omigosh, your face… oh… oh shit. Oh man. I love you.”

Weiss watched her girlfriend wipe her eyes on her cloak— the one she'd embroidered for Peaceday. It looked good on her. A distant melancholy staked Weiss’ chest, and she felt it crawling up her throat as she said: “I love you too.”

The exchange had been quiet. The other Rubys and Weisses were in their own conversations. The world was just between them. Ruby met her eyes. 

That lone silver was warm, but it was wet. Apologetic. Doleful. Longing. Ruby's scarred lips twisted down hard, locking any sobs in. She looked at her hands, her face twisted with shame, with guilt, with a thousand things she wanted to say, and with equal knowledge that none of it would matter once this farce ended. It would be her, alone with her trauma. Weiss, alone with her own.

What could Weiss possibly say? ‘Stay strong?’ ‘I love you?’ ‘Come for me?’ ‘I'm alone and I'm alive and I need you?’

“Alright, uhhh… grilled chicken salad and habanero quesabirria?”

Weiss jolted, so did Ruby. The server reached over them, passing the plates over their heads and towards Weiss and Ruby-cubed, respectively.

“Now the chili mango tacos and the, uh… jalapeño barbecue big-mouth cheeseburger deluxe with extra… everything? And no pickles?”

The stripey, marked face of scar-Ruby went wide at her own Weiss as she took the tacos. With a beaming, be-fanged grin, the girl took the giant, sloppy burger.

“And there ya go with those sliders.”

The miniature burgers hit the table a little too hard between Weiss and her partner, the sound making them both wince. The buns were normal. The meat was there. The fries existed.

Weiss and Ruby stared at their sliders like their gazes could meet through them. Neither reached for one of the burgers. Weiss took a fry, put it in her mouth, then took it out and put it in her lap. She'd never been less hungry.

“So, you can do magic too?” Medieval-Weiss asked, her entire lower face already drenched in brown barbecue sauce. She was, to Weiss’ genuine surprise, not detonating from what must be a million new flavors to her, including spice. Nobody before modern times had spice.

Weiss remembered she was a human and was supposed to use the gift of speech. “Uh, I suppose? My Semblance is glyph—”

“You're a half—”

“You have magic?” squeaked Weiss³. “Bullshit!”

Weiss looked at her in surprise. “Uh, we have Semblances?”

“I have magic,” the toothy one countered haughtily, earning her a thump on the shoulder from her own Ruby.

“It's called a Semblance,” Weiss Prime insisted.

“No,” corrected the two-eyed, many-scarred Ruby. “I have a Semblance. She has magic. True magic.”

The medieval (fantasy, apparently) Weiss brought up a couple fingers and levitated the ice cubes out of her glass, then somehow willed them into the shape of a hand with thumb and pinky extended, which she pointedly swept over the middle of her face. Her Ruby chuckled. 

“Wait,” best-Ruby said, raising one hand in a way that made Ruby³ reel— she probably saw the webbing of Aura-scars, bright red over her pale skin. “So you've got magic, and you've got a Semblance,” she pointed between old-timey Weiss and old-timey Ruby respectively, then to herself and her own Weiss. “But we've both got Semblances. What kinda dichotomy is that?”

“That's not what a dichotomy is,” Weiss Prime pointed out.

Ruby³ piped up bitterly: “Hey, what kinda dichotomy is you guys having magic and us having, uh, Weiss?”

“Einen Scheißdreck.”

“That's like ‘jack shit’, right?” asked the unscathed Ruby, leaning towards her robotic Weiss and stage-whispering.

“Ja, more or less,” that Weiss returned in the same conspiratorial tone. Ruby offered her a fist-bump, which she took with a giant smile that wasn't on her lips, but everyone could see it.

“You get robot-stuff,” Weiss countered, “though I guess we do too. I was supposed to, at least.”

The Weiss-cube looked at her and scowled, then at the Weiss on the open end of their table. In terms of natural limbs, they were ordered from most to least. “And vat did happen to Deinem Arm?”

“Ich schneide es.”

“Absichtlich?”

Weiss Prime scowled. “Ich will darüber nicht sprechen.”

Weiss³ shrugged. “Mein mech exploded. I am lucky ve recovered zis much.”

“Mech!” eyepatch-Ruby blurted. “You— you guys have mechs? Seriously? Like in—”

“Dein Anime, ja,” Weiss³ said sardonically, getting another one-eyed look of amazement. “Vat? Ve have anime, too.”

Weiss checked on the other two to see how they were coping with being left out of this conversation, only to catch a perfect view of her fanged clone clamping her fangs into the giant burger like an animal, with her respective Ruby staring, wide-eyed with a mouthful of taco and bright red splotches over her cheeks. 

Weiss let them have that weird moment, and went back to the convo just in time to hear her own Ruby asking: “Wait, so what do you two do?”

Weiss³ waved between herself and her redder half (fuck, she wished Yang were here), her tone warbling low. “Ich der Kapitän—”

Ruby³ interrupted her quickly. “She's in the— we’re in the military. She's the boss, I'm her technician.”

Ruby Prime perked up at that last word. “You're a technician?”

Weiss³ proudly nodded. “Ja. Meine girlfriend hat einen Masterabschluss!”

“I have a Master's Degree in Biotech Engineering,” the girlfriend translated, not sounding particularly happy or prideful about it.

“Biotech!” Ruby Prime exclaimed, her eyes glittering. “You mean, like, robot parts!”

“Biologically-integrated robot parts,” the other Ruby clarified, one hand stretching towards her robotic girlfriend. “Like Weiss. She's all biont now, no more robo-cybers; that shit's bad for ya.”

Ruby Prime looked at that Weiss, then her arms, and she stared for a long time at her arms. She turned to her older clone, her eyes sparkling. “You… and you…”

Ruby³ nodded slowly, comprehendingly. “You see it too?”

Ruby blushed, putting her observation of Weiss³ into a new context that Weiss, as her girlfriend, did not like! “He-eeeey,” she complained. “I'm gonna get a robot-arm, too! It'll be way hotter!”

Ruby Prime looked at her excitedly. “Ooooh, like with an extra finger? Or big arm-talons? Or, like, a big gun?”

Weiss reeled. “How… how're any of those things hot?”

Weiss³ let out a long, forlorn sigh. “Ah, Schwesterling, you just don't get it yet. But you vill,” she leaned in close, mouth to Weiss’ ear, her weird voice rumbling in dual tones. “You vill.”

Weiss slapped her away. “I am a minor!”

“And minors do not do zat kind of stuff in your day? For shame, you prudes.”

Cubey-Ruby snorted, “Says the one who—”

“What kind of stuff?” asked the fantasy-Ruby through a mouthful. Her Weiss was watching with rapt interest, even as she wiped her nasty face with a napkin. 

The four others went quiet. The sound of the diner washed away beneath their oppressive silence, all of it drowning out until Weiss³’s artificial parts could be heard whirring, clicking, shifting in place. The deadly silence was like molasses. Four minds churned, one question glowing orange like a hot brand to the frontal cortex:

‘Did medieval people know what sex was?’

“How're you guys liking it? Ready for dessert? Anything I can get?”

The waiter deflated all tension, and they were suddenly a flurry of compliments, thanks, and excited chittering about desserts. And the energy was infectious— it hit Ruby like a truck, that much was obvious— but it only took a few seconds for Weiss to develop an immunity. Her eyes landed on the sliders. Cold, soggy, untouched. Her tongue remembered none of the fry. She didn't ask for a to-go box, fearful that mentioning it would zap Ruby from her joy, knowing that it was pointless anyways. She wasn't really here.

She ordered some tiramisu for dessert, just so Ruby wouldn't feel bad in these scant final moments together. The others ordered… stuff. She didn't hear them. There was a ringing in her ears.

She'd fucked it all up. She really had. Everything these Rubys and Weisses had, all of it was gone for her. She'd been too scared to tell Ruby her feelings, too scared of retribution— not even denial— then time and time again, she chose to belay. She said it was for Ruby's sake, but she never gave Ruby the choice, waiting until her partner had to force it, had to say ‘god-damnit Weiss, let us have this!’ 

But it was too late, then. No time to be free together. Two kisses— one terrible, one amazing— and that was it. She was ripped away before they could even breathe together. Ruby was somewhere else, alone, vulnerable— not even herself, apparently. She had a hole in her soul that was begging for someone better than Weiss to fill it, and that bar wasn't very high. 

Weiss put tiramisu in her mouth and swallowed. It tasted like a cotton ball. The Weisses were talking to their Rubys, to each other, to her own special Ruby. The one who had one eye, because she lost it to save a bunch of lives, including Weiss’ own. The one who cut her arm off. The one who made something special, with her own hands, just for her.

The one who wasn't actually talking to the other Rubys. The one who stared at Weiss, one silver eye brimming. Her lips were straight and scarred; Weiss remembered how they felt to kiss. She didn't deserve even that. She'd played the poor girl until her strings broke, and now she was all alone with bags under her eyes and a grim ring of redness within them. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. She looked like she'd never sleep again.

It didn't have to be this way.

Weiss pushed herself out of the booth with a broken ‘excuse me’ as she stormed out of the restaurant. She couldn't feel herself crying, but she knew she was. She could just feel her feet on the ground, and an ache in her right wrist. She stood in the street and tried to stretch a joint that wasn’t there anymore.

It was night, and it was dark. She couldn't see too far down either side of the road. Her vision watered.

“Weiss?”

“I'm sorry,” she said miserably. “I… I fucked it all up, Ruby, I—” her voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”

An arm came around her shoulders, then another one followed around her waist as Ruby circled around her front. She brought them both to their knees on the asphalt. Weiss burrowed her face into the other girl’s neck. Ruby did the same.

“I'm sorry,” she sobbed again. “I didn't… I didn't think things would….”

“I miss you,” Ruby wept in turn, crying even harder, her jaw straining so hard that Weiss felt it against her neck. “I miss you so much, Weiss, I… I can't. I can't. I can't do this without you, I can't do any of this, it's— it's—” she heaved another wet sob against her partner’s throat. “It's so much. And— and everyone tells me to move on, not to worry, that it'll be okay, but they don't get it!”

Ruby’s hands scrambled frantically over her back, grabbing desperate fistfuls of fabric. Another sob ground out of her throat.

“I'm. Still. There,” Ruby groaned, her voice hitching, breathing like each lungful would be her last. “I'm still… I'm haunted, Weiss! I— I see things, I'm going crazy, I— I— I—”

Weiss hugged her tight, clutching her like she could physically hold the girl together.

“I can't do it anymore,” she admitted, sagging. “I couldn’t. I couldn't do anything anymore, Weiss, I— I'm falling apart, piece by piece by— by fucking piece!” An ugly wail rocked Ruby bodily, and she held her partner like a lifeline, like Weiss was all she had left. “I couldn't do it! I— I— I tried… to…”

Ruby’s voice shook with horror, with tearful dread. Weiss hugged her tighter, she breathed deep, she listened. “Tried what?”

Ruby told her.

Weiss pushed her away, both of them knee-to-knee on the street. The air was quiet. No cars came. There wasn't any sound. Ruby couldn't look her in the eyes.

“You… you're lying.”

Ruby shook her head.

“No.”

Ruby said nothing, did nothing. She just knelt there, limp, and noiselessly sobbed.

Weiss put her hand to Ruby’s cheek, then her chin, fighting the girl’s meager resistance to force her face up. She searched her features for signs, the things Ruby did whenever she lied— the quirk in her eye, the way she blinked— and found nothing but frozen, terrible truth. Her voice felt so thin when it came out, so weak, just like she'd always been. And now Ruby was… this. A victim. Of herself, of Weiss. 

“Why?”

Ruby said nothing. She shook her head, tears climbing from her cheek to Weiss’ thumb. 

She had done everything wrong. She'd already ruined it. Since it couldn't get any worse, Weiss kissed her.

Her lips tasted like salt. 

[balladofthewhitehorse]

Rocky Roads

Context: Set during WW1, a very old GerEng fic that I started long before I even had this blog or was part of the Hetalia fandom. It's a very old piece of writing that I had no intention of finishing so I've pruned it from 11 pages to 5 pages into something approaching okay. I do think England is a bit OOC for how I usually write him these days, but otherwise I think it's okay. I mostly just want it out of my drafts.

Nobody had ever said it was easy to keep friends, Germany mused ruefully - and when one's life was fettered with the troubles of treaties and politics, it was twice as hard. Squinting across the rubble of Niemandsland, Germany fought back the rise of bile in the back of his throat, and doubled down. The days of the Hanseatic League were long-gone, the days of him and others (Not kin, but others like him, the dozens of German states as they were known, but not kin) walking side by side with the likes of England and Scotland. The days where he’d once, briefly, thought England the sun - blinding and great, as precious and gold as coin. In turn, England had valued him too, but nothing good belonged to the likes of them. He knew better these days, of course. But Germany would not ignore that once he loved England and England had loved him back. It was not just the gold, he told himself quietly, fist bunching around his bayonet. Smoke trailed wrathfully across the upturned earth, tangles of wire, men and horse obscuring his vision. Throat tightening, Germany (and his thousand states, all part of him now, the ones that didn’t make it) stood up slowly and narrowed his eyes. It had been four months since the start of the war, and there was a lull that set every nerve in his body on fire. The Napoleonic Wars weren’t this dull. Germany mused to himself, at least France knew how to put on a show. Enough of a show that it England on the hunt for allies, gold coin exchanged palm over palm - staring knowingly at him, the same infuriating smirk on his face as ever. Not much convincing was needed, England had teased as he did Germany’s shirt up for him. He’d responded it was out of a mutual dislike, a frustration with France more than anything - but England was oddly perceptive, for a brute  - or perhaps I’m just that obvious? (‘’Why so dour?’’ The German Empire looked up with a jolt, a sheepish flush across cheeks that otherwise remained as if stone. England did not look away, and Germany found himself trapped in his stare. If things were simpler, perhaps Germany could’ve found a better answer, could’ve taken hold of England’s hand and kissed them sweetly. As it stood, nothing was ever simple for them and the Empire let out a wearisome snort, as if England did not know. ‘’The Naval race, everything. You know the answer, you’ve still got eyes, you know…’’

‘’Shut it.’’ England groused, pulling a cigarette from his lips and placing it to Germany’s. A kiss, transferred in smoke and warmth and an embrace they would never have. ‘’Things might change. Nobody truly wants war, except for the penny-pinchers.’’ There was a half-hearted laugh from England, but joy was as inconsequential as candyfloss in a gale in these darker times. ‘’Sense will win out in the end.’’ England murmured half-heartedly. They both knew the answer. If mortals had sense, they would not be where they stood, in the shadows of treaties and wars that loomed large like storms. While the latter was a comforting lie, the former was a truth that Germany had hoped not to hear.‘’I miss you, you know?’’)

-----------------The Christmas Truce ------------------------------------

He’d never seen such a miserable sight before. And never seen such a sight he was thankful for before either.Germany strode forward, a heart of lead, as he clenched his fists and walked like a storm incarnate. Snow and bone, what was the difference, crunched beneath his feet and he could finally look at England proper. ‘’How are you not dead?’’ He gasped softly, staring at purpling and red skin, hollow eyes and smile that flickered - a ragged flag. Germany wondered for a moment if he looked the same, a corpse propped up, staring. ‘’You should be dead.’’ Sniffed Germany, noticing a wound on the man’s neck, festering and red-hot, trench fever setting in.

A question trembled on his tongue - Who did that to you? Are you okay? - and keeled over, Germany’s eyes blazing as he glared at England. ‘’You shouldn’t be here, go back to your trench.’’ He hissed, pointing a finger across the snow-smothered terrain. ‘’Don’t take another step.’’ Come here. I missed you. Come here. ‘’Go back to your trench!’’ He begged, trembling as the sounds of singing floated above him, bringing good tidings - tidings not meant for such creatures as them, lands bathed in more blood than either remembered.

‘’Or what? You’ll shoot me?’’ His laugh heaved with nicotine, the German wincing slightly as England coughed and hawked. ‘’Yeah, right. You’re a mean shot. You’d have done it the moment I stuck my head out of that trench.’’  England pointed out, procuring a crumpled, cold packet of chocolate and pushing it into Germany’s hands. Briefly, as fingers brushed against one another, Germany fought back the urge to hold his hand, and he knew without speaking, England felt the same. ‘’Cadbury’s. Best chocolate in the world. Swear on it.’’

Germany rolled his eyes, breaking a piece of chocolate off and handing it to England. ‘’You’ll have to fight Belgium for that one.’’ He paused a beat, a lump in his throat. Cloying air and the harsh sting of toxic gases, he’d watched her stagger and stumble in the darkness, unable to see, unable to call out. Yet, here he was, joking about her as if they were nothing more than workplace friends. As if England hadn’t sworn to stand by her side.

 ‘’Ah, poor taste that one.’’ He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. ‘’Forget it. Don’t tell Belgium a word.’’ He’d woken up, almost thinking the whole war a nightmare, until he’d turned a little to his left and spotted the grim, haunted expression of Austria. He couldn’t escape that look, and by the looks of it, Austria couldn’t escape his own nightmares either. ‘’Wasn’t planning to.’’ England replied softly, looking down at mud-caked shoes. Water seeped in through the cracked leather, and privately he wondered if it was his turn to suffer from trench-foot like so many of his brothers in arms had. ‘’She’s too tired to talk.’’ He frowned, expression crumpling like a stack of cards. Though the men sang, the idle chatter of boys at play - he’d not missed the young faces, the ones that should’ve stayed at home, the ones that were not of age - exchanging gifts -, he knew it was not the same for some of them. Scotland and Wales were talking to a few soldiers, pretending as if they had not put a bullet between their friend’s eyes. Humans might die and take their grudges to their graves, but they were left behind in the uncomfortable wake of it all. Here he was, talking to the man who he’d promised so dearly to his friend that he would see to it that he was defeated. 

‘’I miss you.’’ England spoke hoarsely. ‘’Please…don’t hold it against me if I shoot you.’’ It was nothing personal, this was not his war. Not Germany’s either, England mused ruefully, but it had to be said. He had to let Germany know. Friends ebbed and flowed, draining from his fingers, and England wasn’t going to lose another one. Not if he could help it. ‘’I’m just keeping my word.’’ He was quite sure it was the same for the Empire before him, a ghostly smile on his lips. 

The Empire was not so sure, expression falling - dusk encroaching on day, the lean man stepping back as he was faced with the earnestness of England’s words. He’d been around a hundred years and a hundred years more, and for a second, Germany had to wonder if in all that time war had taken on a different meaning. If it even had a meaning at all. ‘’You might be quicker to forgive, but I’m not.’’ Germany straightened, raising his chin. ‘’I’m doing this for Austria-Hungary, not for you.’’ He thought that’d been perfectly clear - as stark as blood on snow, as vicious as the bullet that had pierced England’s lungs. ‘’It’s for my friend, and my friend only.’’ Germany ground out, staring England down. ‘’Don’t get your hopes up.’’ ‘’I-...’’ A flicker of hurt, like a gunshot wound. ‘’Of course, Germany.’’ 

England’s gaze hardened, tumbling stone as he stared the Empire down. Really, it should’ve been expected. How many of your men have I shot so far? How many of them did you know personally? Did you feel their bodies fall on the mud? Clearing his throat, England nodded mutely, shoving a bar of dark chocolate - wrinkled and worn from sitting in his cold pocket, a remnant of sentimentality perhaps, not yet blasted to smithereens against all odds - into Germany’s chest. ‘’Just take it, please. You look like you’re half-way into the grave.’’

‘’England, don’t-’’ 

‘’Don’t what!?’’ England snapped, a dog’s snarl in his throat - the red shimmer of the shuck across sea-blue eyes. He backed away, the sounds of laughter and singing, a thousand unlikely voices murmuring turned bitter in his ears. England wanted them all to shut up. Wanted all of them to go away and leave them alone. Alone. Just him and Germany. He sighed heavily, breath fogging in the thorn-sharp air. Typical, wasn’t it? England set his jaw as the taller man lumbered forward, a trembling hand tracing his jawline. ‘’Why do you have to make it more painful, German Empire?’’ He hissed the man’s name, glaring quietly at him.

‘’You look terrible.’’

‘’Oh cheers.’’ England snarked bitterly. ‘’Strange way of flirting you’ve got.’’

Germany winced, grasping England’s shirt collar and yanking him closer. The two of them shuffled down into a mine-crater, amidst the dirt and the dead, they sat. ‘’Don’t get hurt.’’ It was a fool’s errand, asking that of him. During war too. Licking his lips hesitantly, Germany leaned forward and pressed a kiss to cracked, bloodied lips - red-welled from the harsh winter winds or a man’s knuckles, Germany wasn’t sure. Ugh, can I not make up my mind? 

Love wasn’t always so kind to logic, that was what he was rapidly finding out. ‘’I-...just don’t step on a land mine and blow yourself up, England.’’ Germany swallowed thickly. ‘’Die in honourable combat, by my hand - not by…by someone else.’’ He wanted England’s last thoughts to be him - and that terrified Germany. Why? Why do I want him to remember me?

‘’Romantic, aren’t you?’’ England groaned, ribcage heaving as he leaned forward to hug Germany. In spite of everything - every bruise, wound and corpse - he felt some comfort in the way his body fitted against his, as if his hands were always meant to be cradling him, holding him - hurting him too. It made his head spin, England’s cheek pressed against his chest. Everything was so damn complicated, and he could not pull away from Germany. ‘’You bastard.’’ England growled, as he held Germany’s body. There was companionship, certainly - but not one that came to him easily. Laughter rang out, the sounds of a football softly bouncing along the ruined earth, England screwing his nose up in resentment. Why can’t that be me? Why can’t that be us? Stupid and insignificant? Carefree and pointless? Germany winced as England pressed close to his body, shaking like a wounded dog. ‘’Hm, that I am.’’ He mumbled thickly, tensing like a spring as he felt England’s hand drift to his scalp - and then relaxing when he felt his hand gently run through his dark curls, snowflakes glittering his hair as they drifted absent-mindedly through the sky. Mud, blood and snow - clinging to his trousers - felt an oddly fitting place for them. Dirty, unholy and fragile - that was what they were, was it not? Carding his hands over England’s body, Germany rested his chin on England’s head with a heavy sigh. 

‘’I do love you, it’s just…’’ His heart quivered like a cornered rabbit, nails digging into the back of England’s shirt. ‘’There’s too much, what’s to say that by morning that I won’t have killed you?’’ He’d do anything for his people, what was he but an extension of their beings? A thousand and more hearts beating in unison? Who was he to waste their hearts on England of all people? To be so damned selfish? To bend and waver, where he ought to stand tall?

‘’And what’s to say I won’t do the very same to you?’’ Growled England, a furtive kiss pressed against Germany’s neck - heated against cold, prickling skin. He fumbled with his pockets briefly and tugged out a battered cigarette. Quietly, Germany pulled out his lighter and lit England’s cigarette - the spark lighting up England’s eyes. They bored into him, the lean man shivering as he watched England take a deep drag of the cigarette. Smoke coiled in the air, as coquettish as dancers. ‘’You underestimate me, Germany.’’ He snorted as he pressed his cigarette to Germany’s lips, a kiss transferred in smoke and embers. 

‘’Nein. I estimate you perfectly.’’ He sighed, dragging in a lungful of England’s cigarette. He wrapped an arm around the other as England leaned on him, heart thudding. ‘’I-I…’’ A carol drifted through the air, juxtaposed against the silence of the guns. Something, something about peace and holiness. Could not be further from anything relating to us. Germany thought, resting his cheek against England’s hair and tentatively pressing a kiss to his head as England sighed, eyes fluttering shut - snowflakes glittering on his eyelashes, hand pressed against his chest. ‘’...England, I-’’ He grimaced, eyes stinging all of a sudden. ‘’I-’’

‘’Don’t talk.’’ England wrapped his arms around him. ‘’There’s no need.’’ He reassured him, as the snow slowly drifted from the sky - laden on men's shoulders, as heavy as sin, as they quietly dragged the fallen back to their trenches. Tenderness reached with an outstretched palm from a wolf-grey sky, their heads lolling against one another - England’s on Germany’s shoulder and Germany’s on England’s head, as they stared into the falling snow. 

Voices sung faintly in the distance, smoke coiling around their heads as they passed a single cigarette between them - Germany sighing as he pulled out a cold bar of dark chocolate, splitting it with a snap and handing half to England. Eyes twinkling gratefully, England took it and kissed Germany in return, sighing as a hand drifted up to cup the man’s scarred cheek. 

Germany kissed back, trembling as he wrapped his arms around his stout waist. ‘’This is ridiculous.’’ He mumbled, drifting between logic and want - Dear God, he wanted this so much, so badly. - as he nudged England a little closer to his lap. Mud and blood and snow clung to the seat of his trousers, Germany shuddering at the feeling of the cold slush against his back. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow, didn’t want to think about the morning that surely brought a devastating promise. Cracked lips and worn knuckles, he clung to England and blocked out that dreadful reminder.

 ‘’Mph-’’ He gasped softly as England kissed him on the lips, straddling his lap as warm body pressed against warm body, chasing away that spectre of doubt. ‘’Now of all times? You’re so inconsiderate.’’ Germany blustered, pushing against England’s chest as the other snickered faintly, frosty fingers lacing with each other. 

‘’You love me.’’ A distant shot rang out across the field, both men looking up as night bled into day. There was no more laughter, no more songs and reluctantly - though knowingly, bitter for their understanding all the same - they stood up, brushing the mud from their trousers. ‘’Well, back to business?’’ England sighed wearily, slowly closing his eyes.

Exhaustion ringed his face as he rubbed his eyes, stepping slowly out of the crater and pulling Germany after him. England’s footfalls crunching through the snow as Germany followed - half dead - behind him. They lingered for a moment under the stars, staring at one another with the furtive, shy glances of a pair of secret lovers, caught in a courtesan’s dallance in the midst of a glamorous ballroom. And then they parted, the illusion of a glittering ballroom fading, leaving only the cold, dark wake that was No-Man’s Land. As he approached his trench, Germany tensed - his gaze trawling through the rank and file of soldiers, the idle and excited chatter. It wouldn’t last, he mused, jaw tensing as he watched their higher-ups approach with flinty expressions. It wouldn’t last. It never did. And it’d do good for him to remember that, Germany scolded himself, brows furrowing as he watched his soldiers.

His people were what mattered, Germany corrected himself. To think so otherwise, went against his entire being, his whole purpose.

[mokagachas]

share with me your great wisdom of of snake gal and water gal for I have not played arknight is a bit

hm okay alright ( muses )

I’ll say right off the bat I’ve mentioned on this blog before that while I don’t dislike romantic ships by any means I find myself very rarely “shipping” characters by pure definition of the word I mostly just enjoy their dynamics and parallels and My Goodness ho’ol and mumu have that in droves with one another

The vast TLDR oversimplification of the two of them: Ho’olheyak and Muelsyse are the last/some of the last of each of their respective races, Ho’olheyak being the last of the K’uk’ulkan and Muelsyse of the elves. Both are long life species naturally, but Ho’olheyak has gone through a torturous ritual at a young age that all K’uk’ulkan go through where she is implanted with the memories of generations of K’uk’ulkan before her. The procedure cuts her life short, and while we don’t know exactly HOW short, its presumably not very long to go

Muelsyse and Ho’olheyak both go on quests to find out what remains of, or what happened to, their people. They both have rather different approaches to it, however, with Muelsyse holds out hope that she’ll find other elves still alive, going on a lone quest to hunt down what remains of them and ultimately discovering that yes, most have died out, partially due to their weakness to originium. Despite this, she herself stays in densely populated city areas and interacts with Infected people frequently, enjoying being a social person while also feeling agonizingly alone. Muelsyse is decidedly a Good Person.

On the flip side, Ho’olheyak almost agonizingly relies on using other people to get the information she wants, seeking less about the specificities of what happened to her race and moreso their purpose and affect. She infiltrates secret organizations, double and triple crosses whenever it suits her whim, and is an utterly self-serving person who has no qualms in committing atrocities to get what she wants- though this is not to be confused with commiting atrocities for the pure joy of it. She ultimately finds a “god” robot thing (long story) that more or less tells her that everything she’s been working for is more or less worthless and she doesn’t necessarily fall to despair, but she does become incredibly languid and passive, though she keeps her trade mark asshole-ish ness.

Muelsyse flat out says it in Ho’olheyak’s files: “We each have what the other lacks.” They’re characters that are Definitely built to be the inverse of each other despite having rather sparing direct interactions in events but being littered in each other’s files. It’s really interesting to me!

But while their long life parallels (or robbed lack thereof in Ho’ol’s case) and relationship with their ancestors are the most obvious connections to be drawn between them, what fascinates me the most is their social parallels and how their experiences have changed how they interact with the world.

Both of them feel incredibly alone in one way or another. For Muelsyse, this comes near to breaking her at times. Despite the people around her that she cares for, and who care for her, she has such a different life experience than everyone else that she feels a disconnect that cannot be bridged. Despite this, she does her best to form genuine connections with those around her, even if they fail to give her what she wants.

Ho’olheyak is alone and at least Thinks she doesn’t care about it. She doesn’t respect many people, if any at all. She shatters every possible connection she could have with a shrug, pursuing only what could benefit her and seeming impartial to what she does to have her way. She is alone yet clearly wants for more: why else would she be seeking for meaning in the K’uk’ulkan so desperately?

These are two people who have had such violently different lived, yet the closest either of them can get to finding someone who can even begin to comprehend the life they’ve led and the struggles they’ve faced is in the other person. They acknowledge to themselves that the other person share similarities, but have trouble crossing that final step due to how the other has acted is so contradictory to their personal motives.

They’re both drawn to and reject the other… I like it :)