#would be so cool if i could also in the meantime just work for a business like a local bakery wtf 😭

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THIS THING IS SCUUUFFED AS HELL & ITS ALSO THE BEST THING I HAVE ANIMATED THUS FAR. IM SO IN LOVE WITH EMIZEL. JUST WISH I GAVE HIM MORE STUPID TATTOOS. NEXT TIME THO. NEXT TIME. I ALSO LOVE VEX&VIV SOOOO MUCH. charlies flavor of Deranged is my FAVORITE!!

[conm1go]

can't wait to not work for a company... let me be free....

[lavenderchqn]

"TO PRACTICE FREEDOM"

synopsis — You're the biggest scaredy cat living amongst the people of Scions of Canopy. You try to get over your fear of heights... by trying out bungee jumping under the watchful eye of your partner. Let's just say... it doesn't go according to plan. pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — near death experience (falling from heights), minor character death, spoiler warnings for kinich's story and voicelines, ajaw is a lore accurate menace notes — I've had an idea for this as soon as we learned that Kinich has interest in extreme sports... reading his story felt weird (the longer I am in genshin fandom, the more stuff I predict right...)

The People of Huitztlan believe in the concept of absolute freedom. That’s why so many youngsters throw themselves into dangerous sports with a lack of safeguard measures. Perhaps having nothing securing a person allows them to experience said freedom. 

To practice death is to practice freedom, after all. 

“We’re here,” Kinich says, looking in your direction. He has held your hand ever since you started your trek up the higher regions of the Coatepec Mountain. “Do you want to take a break?” 

“Y-Yeah… I need to… sit.” You slowly get down with the help of Kinich. Only after he signalises being opposite of you, do your eyes open.

Kinich has taken a sit too, still holding onto your hand. He’s slowly rubbing circles trying to ground you as best as possible. 

Well… here you are — the biggest scaredy cat, who decided to try and work on your fear of heights by trying out bungee jumping. It’s quite ironic really. Not only are you a resident of Scions of the Canopy, which literally is suspended off the cliffs, but also in a relationship with a guy, whose second name could be ‘extreme sports’. 

To say your mind felt pressure to get over it would be quite an understatement. 

“We can still get down. Just say the word.” Kinich says, keeping his eyesight directly on you. Even if you had asked him to help you with your fears, he’d never force you to do so. Sure, it’d be pretty cool to share interests with a partner, but it should never come at the cost of their mental health. 

You shake your head. You have to try. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think? Kinich will do everything in his power to keep you safe. 

“I can do this.” You answer, taking a deep breath. 

“Well then, chop chop SLOWPOKE!” Ajaw zooms right near your face, spooking you to bits. “Stop wasting MY precious time!” 

“Just how loud can you be…” Kinich sighs, getting up to shoo Ajaw away. “Tone it down a notch, will you?” 

The tiny saurian starts arguing with your partner, although you can easily tell it’s one-sided. No matter how much he would try, the most he could bring out of Kinich were insulting comebacks. Ajaw could try and rage the male in multiple ways… and yet, unfortunately for the dragon, your partner was too resilient to die from anger. 

In the meantime of their dissing match, you slowly get up on your legs. Ajaw is right… You don’t want to waste Kinich’s time because you’re scared and worried. He takes notice of your sudden movement, once again getting close to you. 

“Do you want to try now?” He asks, holding his hand out. These are obvious signs, that he will lead you step by step. 

“Yeah… I think I’m ready.” 

“Alright. Hold still. I’m going to put the climbing belt on you now.” 

As he says, he does. Kinich does it slowly, explaining his movement every step of the way. You’re aware, he’s doing it to ease your mind… and it’s working well. In the blink of an eye, the sound of a snap-hook getting attached brings you back from a short daydreaming session.

“All done.” He takes another look at you, checking if the equipment is snug against your body while making sure it isn’t digging into your skin. “Can you move for me?” 

“Yeah, sure!” You do a slow spin, followed by kneeling on one foot. “Although I can feel the harness… it’s not uncomfortable.” 

“That's good.”

Once again, it’s another series of your partner explaining the next steps. All you need to do is find a point to connect your line to. He already connected the rope to your belt. The other end is currently sitting tightly in his hand. 

“You’re not going to hold me when I jump?” You ask, growing worried. 

“I know you’d feel more comfortable with me doing that,” Kinich starts answering, his eyes wandering for an anchor. “I don’t want to also fall down the second you jump.” 

He even explains the physics behind it, ending his speech by saying it’s best you move further to look for a good place to jump from. 

You’re walking next to Kinich, admiring the scenery. With the rope in his hands, you’re feeling much more comfortable. Although he’s trying to talk here and there… his eyes are still locked on finding a stable anchor. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, an anchor is nowhere near. Curse you lunatics with no regard for their safety. 

“So many jumping platforms, and yet not a singular anchor?” He questions, closing his eyes. 

All of a sudden your eyes land on a ruffed pheasant that just landed on one of the platforms. You’ve never seen one so close! Without thinking about your safety, you start inching closer towards the bird.

Your steps are slow and cautious. The bird, a magnificent creature with iridescent plumage, seems utterly unaware of your presence. Its feathers shimmer in the sunlight, creating a mesmerising display of greens and oranges. An odd sense of calm wash over you, momentarily forgetting the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your insides.

"Careful," Kinich warns, his voice seeming distant as if muffled by the pounding of your heart.

The platform beneath your feet is uneven, its surface worn smooth by the countless jumps of those, who came before you. With no warning, Ajaw jumps from behind your shoulder, screaming right next to your ear. The bird, startled, flies away. You try to also get away when your foot catches on one of the loose boards. The world tilts violently, and suddenly, you're weightless.

A scream tears from your throat as you plummet downwards, the wind rushing past your ears, drowning out all other sounds. The landscape blurs into a mix of greens and browns, the ground below rushing up to meet you at an alarming speed. For a split second, your mind goes blank — pure terror seizing every thought, every instinct. You’re going to fall to your death. 

Back on the hill, Kinich’s body goes numb for a second. He’s seen this happen once before. He cannot allow it to happen again. You’re not his drunkard gambling mess of a father, and he’s not his seven-year-old self. Kinich will save you, even if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

The blood is pounding in his ears when he shifts all his weight to his legs. Only when he cannot feel any force trying to get him off the cliff, does he start pulling up. With a sharp tug, he jerks you backwards, the rope connected to the harness snapping taut. The force of the pull knocks the air out of your lungs, but it stops your descent abruptly. You swing wildly in the air, the ground still far below, the rope swaying and creaking with the strain of holding your weight.

Above, you can hear Kinich shouting your name, his voice frantic, barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. You cling to the rope, your hands shaking uncontrollably as the realisation of what just happened crashes over you. You almost fell to your death.

"Hold on!" Kinich yells, his voice breaking through the fog of panic in your mind. "I’ve got you, just hold on for me!"

Tears sting your eyes as you try to steady your breathing, every muscle in your body tensed and trembling. The rope holds firm, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, Kinich begins to pull you back up. Each inch feels like an eternity, but his strength and determination never waver.

As soon as your body reaches the ledge, Kinich grabs onto you, pulling you up with a force that nearly knocks you both off balance. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you collapse against him, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice unusually tight with emotion. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"

You shake your head, unable to speak, still trying to process the fact that you're alive, that you're safe. Kinich's arms tighten around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from any further harm.

"You're okay," he murmurs, repeating it like a mantra. "You're okay, and I'm here. I'm right here."

For a long moment, you stay there, clinging to him as the fear slowly ebbs away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sense of relief. The world around you, once a blur of panic and chaos, begins to settle back into focus. The mountains, the sky, the distant sound of birds—all of it feels surreal as if you’ve been given a second chance to experience it. In your state, you don’t notice the glare Kinich is giving to his companion. 

If looks could kill, Ajaw would be dead. 

After a while of sitting idly, Kinich pulls back slightly, enough to look into your eyes. His face is pale, his expression filled with concern, but there's also a deep, unspoken resolve in his gaze. It’s quite different considering the death stare he was giving the saurian just a second ago. 

"We’re done here," he says gently but firmly. "No more extreme sports for today. We are getting you home.”

You nod, still too shaken to argue. As he helps you back onto solid ground, you realise how much you’ve relied on him, not just for safety, but for the courage to face your fears. And even though the experience was terrifying, there’s a small part of you that’s glad you tried, that you didn’t let fear win entirely. You can clearly say, you did indeed practice freedom today. 

In a moment you’re seated on his back, Kinich deciding you’ve had enough walking for today. He’s in absolute control now — and he’s picking the safest route possible. 

“Oh and Ajaw,” Kinich’s voice is laced with coldness. “Don’t think you’re getting away with the stunt you pulled today.” 

"WHAT?!"

date of posting — september 5th 2024

[imninahchan]

⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────

You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.

You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.

He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.

You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.

You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.

Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.

It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.

“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).

But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.

When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.

You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.

He looks at you.

— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.

— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)

— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!

He smiles.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)

— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.

Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.

“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.

In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?

You can even feel your legs wobble.

— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)

It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.

— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)

Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.

it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.

There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.

It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.

But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.

At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.

He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)

Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)

You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.

— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’

Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.

The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.

His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)

Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)

And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)

Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.

You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.

Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)

You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.

He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.

He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.

He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...

When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.

And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.

'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)

Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

so i have a VERY BAD FEVER AND I WANT CRYO LADIES USING THEIR VISION TO COOL OF sick! S/O

(you can also add any other charafter of your liking ❤️❤️)

(Genshin Impact) Eula, Rosaria, Ayaka, Ganyu, and Shenhe using their vision on a sick S/O

This is completely unrelated to the ask, but while writing this I've been listening to the Winter Soldier theme from Captain America. And for such a lovely ask it is very strange writing to one of the hardest themes I've ever heard in my life.

Eula huffs and puffs when her S/O gets sick, but absolutely does not hesitate to begin applying Cryo therapy.

As long as it wasn't contagious anyway.

With one hand gently resting against their forehead as she sits next to them in bed, Eula can't help but brush her fingers across their hair while doing so.

Her expression is gentle, until the moment S/O speaks up.

(Eula) "Am I enjoying this? Of course not, my plans must be halted because you had the audacity to fall ill. Something I will not forget easily, of course. I could always freeze you right here and now."

Yet, her hand is resting on S/O's face still, fingers rubbing down to their cheek as if they were made of glass.

Rosaria honestly didn't think of using her Cryo vision to bring down S/O's fever.

She really only used it for work, and S/O sure as hell wasn't on her list for tonight of people to use it on.

But, at their insistence, she lets her hand cool them down, being very careful to use it sparingly.

(Rosaria) "If it gets too cold, let me know, I guess. Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

Rosaria tries to be as gentle as she can, and has to remove her gloves to avoid poking S/O in the eyes.

Her own hand feeling S/O so tenderly gets her a little flustered, the only way S/O can tell was by her actively avoiding meeting their eyes.

Ayaka felt like a stroke of genius hit her when she brought S/O's high temperature down.

With a smile, Ayaka eagerly sits down with S/O in order to help.

(Ayaka) "Please, rest easy S/O. Would you like anything to eat while I'm here?"

She could just hire some help or get Thoma to help S/O, but part of her quite enjoyed being the one to care for S/O.

It was unfortunate they were sick, but she sure wasn't going to complain about spending time with S/O, especially when she could actively help them.

The entire time she's with them, Ayaka's smile never really goes away.

Ganyu has done the same to herself whenever she felt under the weather, though without too much effect since she was used to the cold.

But she breathed a massive sigh on relief when it had a visible effect on S/O's fever.

(Ganyu) "Ah, good! It's working! The medicine should be working soon, but in the meantime!-"

She brings a little bit of her paperwork to get through as she sits next to S/O, multi-tasking to help them recover.

Even if her S/O insists that they don't have to worry, she'll still take care of them anyway.

Work was important, but the love of her life was even moreso.

Shenhe, on top of retrieving some medicinal herbs and creating a brew concocted by her master, helps S/O's fever with her Vision.

...By grabbing onto their forehead with her entire hand, looking like she was about to crush their head instead of heal.

(Shenhe) "Are you comfortable S/O? Please relax and I'll bring down your temperature."

Careful with both her strength and Vision, she used them in moderation in order to help, much to S/O's terror when half their vision was blotted out by her palm.

The entire time Shenhe is focused on making sure S/O recovers well, trying her best to make sure they were comfortable.

Was it entirely comfortable? Truthfully, no. It was a little awkward.

But damned if S/O wasn't grateful that Shenhe was trying.

[random-dragon-exe]

I kinda hope it's acknowledged in A New Wish that Peri and Jorgen are related.

Like there's a lot of potential with it.

Remember the FOP episode where Jorgen got sick and it was revealed that Cosmo and Jorgen are cousins? Then in the meantime, Cosmo had to fill in for Jorgen's role?

Maybe it's just me, but I'd like to see a similar thing happen, but this time, Peri has to fill in for Jorgen, and enforce the rules.

The reason why Jorgen picks Peri would be that he doesn't want a repeat of last time with Cosmo (the rules shattering nearly ended the universe).

So this time, he picks Peri, who he feels is more responsible.

It'd be fun to see Peri kinda lose it and bite off more than he could chew while trying to enforce the rules and take responsibility of the role. But at the same time, he'd totally hide how he really feels so he could make his dad proud (also Jorgen).

I'd like to imagine that this would happen after the battle of the big wand, because of Jorgen assuming that since Dev's memories were wiped and Peri isn't a working fairy godparent, he could do the job.

Idk, this concept just sounds so cool to me and seems like something that could actually happen.

Plus, we could potentially get a full hug between Cosmo, Jorgen, and Peri, just saying.

[mamawasatesttube]

ok i put a longer post abt tim's Emotional State in drafts for when my brain is less melted but re: tim and going to college im just gonna get a lil silly with it. hear me out.

i have this whole vague story in my mind for tim's college days moonlighting as red robin as he tries and figures out what he wants out of life. (it's a while after rr leaves off and all because he's like. Super Depressed for a hot minute and then has to drag himself through actually bothering to get his GED and applying to college, etc., but eventually lucius is like hey. you're great with gadgets, and you clearly love tinkering. i'd hire you for r&d in a heartbeat but you need at the least a bachelor's of engineering. i know you have a lot of the technical skills, but you need a degree. so tim goes ugh fine i'll get a goddamn engineering degree how hard can it possibly be.)

anyways. i think it's a universal experience that if you go to college and you hang with the STEM crowd, you will unfortunately get to know at least one Fucking Guy. it's like brentwood arc; tim does make friends, but there is just this One Fucking Guy he cannot stand and will never stand. this Fucking Guy is in the common room playing his guitar at midnight. he's drunk and yelling and laughing really loud when people have exams coming up. he's convinced everyone adores him. there's also a detective/supernatural plot going on. the subplot is just that tim hates This Fucking Guy.

at some point, there's a story beat where he as red robin has to rescue That Fucking Guy from a real dicey situation, and That Fucking Guy is really shaken and grateful to him, and he's like okay. maybe. maybe we are making progress. but then the next time he encounters This Fucking Guy as tim drake, the guy is just like. "ohhhh hey drake you missed it last night, it was AWESOME!!! i had to save red robin from a KILLER ROBOT. he's pretty cool though i guess. i bet you wish you could be more like him huh??" and tim is just. I Will Not Grind My Teeth About This. I Will Not. his life is a fucking joke. he dismantles the toaster oven in the common room kitchen to cope. it's definitely to cope and not just so that That Fucking Guy won't be able to heat up his pop tarts in the morning.

at another point, This Fucking Guy looks at street mode, lowkey, unremarkable Normal Car-looking redbird and goes, aw, dude, i thought your dad is loaded?? he only got you a generic-ass sedan?? that sucks lol, if you want we can take my car down to the game instead. and tim is just Say One More Fucking Word About My Baby I Dare You I Fucking Dare You One More Fucking Word.

(also i like to toy with the idea of this being a university in metropolis - he's out of gotham, but not too far. keeps him from getting antsy about what if he's needed because he can get right back over there. and in the meantime, he can hang out with kon and kara a lot, and occasionally enable and be enabled by lois lane and her snooping habits. there's another subplot in which tim and lois get up to shenanigans. at least once.)

it's sort of an introspective thing of him trying to come to terms with the way he no longer wants a fully normal life the way he always used to assume he would - he has the option to walk away from the cape now, like he always thought he would one day, but he just can't give it up anymore. he's fallen into the same black hole he watched dick and bruce dive headlong into. it's also about him finding joy in tinkering and working with his hands and getting to spend more time as tim drake first and foremost. and it's about him venting to kon about That Fucking Guy while they have a lil picnic on the green while kon loses his absolute shit laughing. all against the backdrop of a little mystery or something. <3

OH and also, most importantly. zoanne wilkins is there and laughing at him for assuming college would be easy. and kon gets her into wendy the werewolf stalker. My City Now.

[pandafruit]

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter One - Dinner and Diatribes

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: benji is (hot and) bothered, probably inaccurate depiction of knighting ceremonies

song: Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier

a/n: I only fleetingly proofread this, please excuse any mistakes <3

prologue

It is a swelteringly hot day.

Humid, stale air presses down upon the kingdom, torturing anyone who dared to venture to so much as lift a finger.

Weather like this is not made for exciting endeavours.

In fact it is made for remaining in a shaded area, or within the castle walls or in the cool waters of the sea, but you are not granted any such indulgences today.

Your handmaiden, Marion, winces at your gasp for air. “I am sorry, princess. Would that I could spare you this, but a lady of your status simply cannot leave her chambers without a corset.”

You smile at her reflection in the mirror. “It is not your fault, dear. I shall suffer the confines of a corset, just as the common folk suffer their afflictions. ‘Tis but a small price to pay for a lavish dinner.”

Marion returns your smile but it does not look at all convinced, rather than dread-filled.

She does know her princess well, after spending many years in your service and loyally devoted. She knows when you are happy and she knows you as you are now, which is decidedly unhappy and yet determined to convince your surroundings of the opposite.

Marion does not understand why you always are so insistent upon these matters, she figured you might be a little less ashamed to be honest with your handmaiden, who had seen you bare after all.

But Marion also does not understand how hard it is to be outwardly emotional after being taught over and over, for years and years, that you may do nothing but smile tepidly and sit prettily.

You let her finish the lacing of your corset and briefly you clutch the back of your vanity chair. “God be good, that I might survive in this merciless warmth,” you mutter through a haphazard giggle.

Your handmaiden directs your gaze at your dresses. “I have picked out your simplest gowns, princess, should you think them fit for the occasion?”

A knighting ceremony has never happened in the time she had worked for you.

Or they have, but you were simply not the one to be doing the knighting, so the question of the wardrobe did feel rather overwhelming, with nothing to go off of.

Your head tilts slightly to the side as you take them all in and though you can feel your heart, in your now uncomfortably squashed ribcage, scream out for a thin and modest dress, you know deep down that it would be much better to wear something more precious.

To your knowledge, a fair share of the nobles were to attend this little festivity.

A sigh escapes you and you shake your head. “Might you fetch me the gown with the flowers embroidered? I do believe the king would like me to make a good impression upon our visitors tonight, it would be about due time that he attempted to convince me of marriage once again.”

This time Marion’s smile seems genuine, at the light ridicule of your father. “I shall see to it, princess. In the meantime, I think Ser Rodrick would like to bid you his goodbyes.”

You cannot help the pain this causes you. The notion of having to part ways with your former knight did not sit well with you at all.

Your robe drapes around you and the door creaks open.

Marion is always impossibly quick and quiet. She flits through the castle not much unlike a little mouse and you do not even know in which moment she leaves.

Whereas Ser Rodrick with his ever imposing silhouette was not ever subtle.

Your gaze meets his in your mirror and you think that you could weep right then. He seems to share this idea.

“I wish I were but a few years younger, princess, so that I could remain by your side a little longer.”

There is a thick clot in your throat, so thick that you may choke on it. “You’ve performed your duties beautifully,” you say, fighting tooth and nail against the tears threatening to spill.

Slowly you turn to face your sworn protector.

A man like Ser Rodrick, you found, is hard to come by. His kindness and honour seeks its match and after the many years together, he had long transcended his position and become more of a confidant, dare I say, friend instead.

He had known you from a sticky, wild childhood, through the years of your growth until now.

Long gone is the babe he was sworn to protect, with its clumsy movements and relentless howling, replaced by what you are now; the realm’s delight, a fair young woman, grown into the shape of a dedicated princess.

He bows his head down. “I shall miss you dearly, princess.”

Your laugh is a watery, wet thing. “Oh, you shall not. I will write you many letters. Your retirement shall not be as peaceful as you think, my good Ser.”

The setting sun reflects in the shine of his armour, a chest plate painted hues of gold and orange in this light. It bears the sigil of your father’s house and it heaves now with his heavy breathing.

“Your brother has asked me for guidance on who to pick and I put forward the youngest Lord Mormont. A northerner with a northerner’s honour.”

You nod, fingers fiddling with the belt of your robe, fiddling to find the right words now but they do not come to you and so you remain silent.

There could not be a good replacement for your knight, how could anyone ever understand you again, the way that Ser Rodrick had.

“Child, do not fret. I am away from court, not from the world,” he says. “And I shall reply to your letters with great pleasure.”

“How come you are not to be at the ceremony? Should my old protector not be there to see me off to my new one?”

Rodrick shrugs. “It is the way of tradition. I will be dismissed by your father and leave the court in mere moments.”

It is unfair really, it is almost embarrassing to you, to insult Rodrick and have him retire, like an old horse, as though he is no longer a capable fighter.

It had come as a bit of a surprise to you as well, not much of a warning of any kind had been given to you, before your father informed you not even a week ago of this rather drastic change.

The thought that you were to share every waking moment with a stranger bothered you relentlessly.

You cross the room quickly, manners and protocol thrown to the wind as you throw your arms around your knight’s neck.

It is awkward and tense, his iron and steel exterior boring into your soft flesh, but nonetheless he does not pull away, offering you comfort the best he can.

You are the third born child of the king, and though it was undeniable how popular you were at court and with the smallfolk, your father did not care much.

You were not an heir or a spare, you simply were there and as you bent and broke yourself to garner his attention, it was Ser Rodrick who would look down at the flushed cheeks you so often donned as a child and impose his gentleness on you.

As you grew you found yourself wondering how much the blood in your veins meant, what it mattered that the king had put you into your mother’s womb, when it was somebody else who you found yourself in the care of.

“Oh dearest, your mother would be so overcome with delight at the sight of you today,” he whispers when you finally pull back, one large rough hand on your shoulder. “What a marvellous person you’ve become.”

The hurt and love in your heart intermingle and threaten to burst through its seams. The gripping force in your neck does not fade and so, to the best of your abilities, you inhale a deep breath.

“You must visit soon, Ser Rodrick. Whenever you’ve grown sick of spending your days lazing about,” you attempt at a jest.

He shoves at you a little bit. “And you must remain out of trouble. At least for a few weeks.”

You huff. “I am nothing short of a saint.”

“You are,” he says. “You truly are.”

You dare not let the tears spill from your eyes and you dare not look into his, where you are sure you will find the same sheen as in yours.

“I must go, but rest assured a piece of me remains with you.“

In the most royal demeanour and grace you can muster, you curtsy to him. “I am indebted to you forever, Ser Rodrick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, unmarred and soft against his, not a speck of dirt beneath your well-kempt nails. “Farewell for now.”

You do not wish to say farewell and so you do not. You would see him again after all, at least on your birthday, you would certainly see to it.

Silently you watch him leave you behind and though you know that you are not truly without protection, you do wonder who else at court would ever be so honest and gracious with you again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You regret not having given into your desires, the moment you put on this wretched ball gown.

Though the sun is almost entirely gone now, its force still lingers in the air and you think you may be strangled by it.

With great urgency you cling to your wine chalice, about the third pour deep in hopes of ridding yourself of your sweaty discomfort.

It was a wonderful gown, a pale green shade, its bodice and hems embroidered with rosy flowers. The king always liked you in these distinctly girlish dresses, the perfect picture of an obedient and compliant daughter.

He sits to your right, drunk and distracted by his latest mistress next to him.

Lady Cathcart, a notorious sinner, as many liked to say.

Marion had once told you that Lady Cathcart was an expert at fellatio. You do not know what that means, but you assume it could only be of immoral nature.

Bile rises at the sight of them, unapologetic and public shame brought to your mother’s memory.

You avert your eyes and redirect them to your brother next to you.

His attire clashes with yours, a dark purple, not at all youthful and much more suitable for the heir to the throne. He looks just as annoyed as you feel, though you’ve gone to great lengths to hide it.

“Tristan?” You tap your chalice against his.

He breaks out of his reverie with wide eyes. “Sister.”

“When is the ceremony to begin?”

With nervous eyes he scans the room. It bustles with gowns and nobles and servants. “Not much longer,” he somehow ascertained through the sight of this. “Why do you ask?”

“I would like to be excused for a few moments,” you explain and your brother does not question why.

He was often a very crass and forward young man, but he did harbour a certain softness to his younger sister. With the wave of a hand he gives you permission and you do not wait any longer, your chair screeching across the floor immediately.

Fingers curled around your skirt layers, you make haste for the gardens, lest you fall unconscious before you get there.

It was too late to change your dress now, so the sweet solace of the royal gardens would have to serve you as an opportunity for a breath of air.

Air that wasn’t stained with the ladies’ expensive perfumes or the intense spices of dinner.

Air that wasn’t tainted with your father’s misbehaviour.

Your breathing had become quite laboured and you cursed the extravagance of your family, especially now, as your gown had become your body’s prison.

Guards open the doors and the moment you are out of prying eyes you drop into the grass beneath you.

It is no longer soft and ticklish, the way it had been a few short weeks ago, in the wakes of spring. The harshness of summer had turned it coarse and mean against your exposed arms.

It is not very suitable to lay around on the ground like this, but the stars above are spinning and you feel you could have died if you spent a moment longer upright.

Lord Mormont, you think to yourself. A very quiet man, your senior by a few years. You had only spoken with him fleetingly and never about anything of great interest, to either of you, you assumed.

It leaves you wondering whether he would become this constant distanced force in her life. Not only a protector but also somebody who would keep her in line.

In your many years with Ser Rodrick, you had worked out a rhythm with him. You had gotten used to one another and therefore, after so many hours spent together, a strong foundation of trust rests beneath your friendship. He had never chastised you for your shortcomings as princess, he had let you venture outside the castle walls with Marion and had not uttered a single word to your family.

You’re not sure that Lord Mormont would be so tolerant. Northerners were notoriously serious about their duties, he does not seem like the type to take lightly to things like this.

With your face turned upward to the moon and your mind racing, you do not hear the approaching footsteps until it is too late.

A face leans above you.

The young man has a crooked sort of look to him, not as princely as the faces you are accustomed to.

A scar graces his lip, accompanied by a bend in the slope of his nose.

Princes and noblemen rarely carried traits like this, he looks rather common.

Right now he also looks at you, rather confused.

“Looking for anything down there,” he teases as heat shoots into your cheeks, more than the high temperatures had already caused.

You sit up, fumbling to straighten your appearance at least a little bit, the rash movement sending you back into your previous state of low-level vertigo.

The man does not think to offer you a hand and you are once again taken aback by his…commonness.

“What is a lady like you doing, tumbling around in the gardens at night?”

His hands land on his hips.

Maybe he was the stable boy of one of the Lords that were visiting.

His clothing reveals no sigils to you, a simple black attire with a red cape.

No, he could not be highborn.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes widen at the realisation that you are simply sitting there, not speaking.

“I felt a bit faint,” you explain. “Would you offer me a hand, young man?”

His brow raises a little but he extends one to you anyways.

Like Rodrick's, his hand is witness to hard labour, again a stark contrast to yours.

Unlike Rodrick though, he grips you with more force, all but yanking you upwards. Nausea brews in you.

“I thank you,” you mumble. What a queer young man.

He is more brave than a servant, to address you so haphazardly.

He grunts in lieu of a real answer.

“Tell me, what’s this place like? Seems like a fucking shitshow so far.”

It clicks then. He does not know that you are the princess. He thinks you to be of a lower house. It would make sense, with the position he found you in but your appearance surely does not speak to that of a lower house.

Men are always so indifferent to these details, they do not realise their worth.

You clear your throat. “Well, the royal family is rather kind. And there are many feasts and festivities held here. It can be quite interesting,” you say.

He shakes his head. “´Course you’d say that,” he mutters just beneath his breath.

You cross your arms. “What do you imply?”

“You capital people are all the fucking same. Insufferable flatterers.”

It is not often that people speak so frankly to you. You are not sure whether that might be why his words offend you or because he is simply wrong.

“I am no flatterer.”

His nose scrunches. “Yeah? You’ve never seen the princess and doused her in compliments? Never made eyes at her boring brother?”

“I would have you know that her brother is not boring and the princess is a very humble person. She does not care much for feigned niceties.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, birdy.” He lets the name roll over his tongue like it is a term of endearment, delicious and something to relish in.

Now you take a step back. “Watch who you are speaking to, you fool.”

He does not seem troubled by your reaction, lets one hand run through his wild dark hair. “And who is that?”

“A lady. You would do good in learning the pillars of chivalry.”

He laughs, bitterly and full of sarcasm. “Oh trust me I know chivalry and I know it well.”

The garden feels different now, charged with an energy you could not quite put your fingers on. He seems an iresome lad and you decide that you needn’t handle such treacherous behaviour displayed in front of you.

What a fool he is, to speak so lewdly of your family in the very heart of your father’s kingdom.

“Well then, you should learn to mind your tongue. This is no place for words as yours,” you spit and once more grip the skirts of your dress. “I shall bid you goodnight.”

He does not do the same, you think you even see him roll his eyes before you turn your back to him.

It is the curse of manhood to always think they have a right to something. It is what leads them into violence and wars and their own demise.

Women are not troubled with such foolery, women are taught to keep their mouths shut and they hold the wisdom of listening in high regard. It is why they always know the secrets of the castle before any of the Lords hear of it.

You cannot help but shake off your head at this rude intrusion of your peace, this imbecilic attitude.

He would learn his lesson soon enough, he would not make the same mistake unscathed with any other courtiers.

Before you enter again you reach into your hair, checking to see whether it had fallen apart in your short time on the ground, but Marion is too good at her job. Despite hours of dancing or riding or windy weather, it seems that no hair falls amiss no matter how intricate or complicated the style.

A blind man could have picked you out as the princess, you are sure of it.

Huffing and puffing with anger, you drop back into your seat next to your brother, willing this god-forsaken day to finally come to its end.

Your brother ushers a servant to refill your cup. “Are you quite alright?”

“I think my corset is laced too tight and my closest friend has left the city but other than that, I am splendid,” you reply, a misdirected hit of venom toward your innocent brother.

He nudges you with shoulder. “Are you not excited about meeting your new knight? I’ve heard great tales of him.”

You shake your head no and gulp down the sweet wine in a hurry. “I cannot imagine.”

“What? He’s more a myth than a man.”

Liquid goes down the wrong pipe and you nearly choke. “Mormont? In what world?” You ask, entirely incredulous.

Tristan’s eyes widen. “Father has not told you?”

Your eyes tell him to be honest with himself. When has their father ever given you the graciousness of staying informed? He hadn’t even told you of your mother’s death, leaving it to your oldest sister to do so. It does not come as a surprise that once again you are left in the dark about matters that directly concern you.

“It is not Lord Mormont. Father attempted to create peace in the Riverlands,” Tristan begins to explain.

An odd feeling of dread creeps into your bones. “And?”, you inquire, voice taunt but before your brother manages to get out an answer, your father rises.

He is drunk, he sways softly from side to side and you can see his Lady Cathcart’s fingers curl around his leg in an attempt to keep him steady. The room falls quiet, eager to hear their monarch speak.

Insufferable flatterers, the young man pierces your thoughts again.

Some bit of skin is pinched, right beneath your breast and it sends a sharp pain down your side when you straighten your back once more, harsh enough to leave you distracted.

It is odd, you cannot seem to find clarity today, your thoughts distant and flimsy, like water in your hands.

“A special honour shall be bestowed on one of you young lads. The honour of protecting the sanctity of our kingdom's delight, my beloved daughter,” King Alexander boomed, the slightest hint of slur to his words.

Polite claps follow suit and beneath the table you begin to twist the rings on your fingers.

“Now, our council has given great thought to our choice and we are certain that we have picked the most suitable man in the kingdom, for his reputation exceeds him.”

Whispers flood the room and it takes much of your self-constraint to not take your brother’s hand like a little child.

“Benjicot Blackwood, shall be sworn in, in our midst, tonight.”

Bloody Ben.

Tristan is right. There’s many tales to be told of the heir of Raventree, none of which have anything to do with knighthood and to you, all of them are terrifying. A man like that to watch over you with hawkeyes.

You would have much preferred the stoic Lord Mormont.

You swallow thickly.

“My dearest shall knight him herself.”

Your father has not looked at you yet, perhaps he does know that he will face nothing but contempt. He is a drunkard but he is a king and perhaps even a good one and it does take at least somewhat of a brain to be one.

You blinked, once, twice and then you smiled—a practised smile, not much alike to a real one—and got up.

The lightness in your head leaves your periphery blinded, but you have learned after many years of life under the watchful eyes of the nobility, to not stumble, no matter your state and with graceful steps you walk around the table reserved for the highest ranks.

Well, and Lady Cathcart.

Your knees bend very deeply before your father as his sword slices the air.

Nobody thinks to keep you up to date, but nobody needs to tell you about things like this. The manners and the conduct of behaviour at court are ingrained into your brain.

You do not have to be told when to bow or when to rise.

The sword is heavier than expected, it quivers a bit in your hold when your father passes it across the table to you.

It’s gorgeous, with engravings along its blade, flowery gardens, lush hills, stormy seas, it shines in the candlelit hall.

The grand doors creak upon and you cannot bear it any longer, you whirl around, all dizziness ignored, impatient to see the legendary bloody Ben.

At the end of the path he stands, simple black clothes, dark red cape and crooked nose.

Your jaw drops, only by a little.

From the distance parting you, you can’t be certain but Benjicot Blackwood looks about as surprised as you.

He shouldn’t be surprised, you think, he should be worried.

The sword is still awkward in the gip of both of your hands, but the face you make is practised.

Marion had once compared it to Rodrick’s steel armour.

It takes the man a torturously long time to finally reach you, each step dragged as though something was pulling him the other way.

He looks at you, like he wishes to challenge you, but he kneels, not with poise, moreso dropping before you like a sack of potatoes.

Through strands of hair he peaks up at you and it is a funny little turn, you wonder what you must have looked like looking up at him in the garden

Solemnly you clear your throat.

“ Wilt thou, upon this day, pledge thy fealty to the House Aprikate, and stand as a Knight of the Crown?” Your voice drips with an authority that feels strange on your tongue, an unfamiliar power vested in you.

“Yes, your grace.”

You almost feel bad for him, it does not seem so honourable to be kneeling like this, head firmly directed down, so clearly beneath you for everyone to see.

“Doth thou wish to abandon thy self, and be sword and shield for the sake of the greater good?”

This time he pauses a little longer. “Yes, your grace.”

You lift the sword from where you hold it against your mid, slowly and pray to god and all his saints that the tremble of your hand is not too noticeable.

With much tenderness you touch upon each of his shoulders.

“I do hereby dub thee, Benjicot Blackwood, knight of honour. May your courage and devotion become a shining example throughout all the land.”

And so it is done, your chest constricting and heart writhing within. You cannot say what it is that pushes you over the edge, but you see the way he looks at you, as though you have damned him to hell on earth.

Something jolts down your spine and finally your arduous work of remaining composed unravels, darkness cloaking your sight.

A gasp reverberates, mayhaps yours, but you are unconscious before your body tumbles to the ground.

[viriscribe]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ - ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ - ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - "ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴᴇss ɪs ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ."

ᴋɪɴᴋs : ᴅᴏᴍ! ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ, sɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ, ғᴀᴄɪᴀʟs.

(ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ)

The position you found yourself in was downright pornographic. 

“Pluh.. please, Johnny..” You could barely register your own words. You were stripped bare, kneeling on the mansion’s cold marble floor. Johnny was sitting across from you, leaning back comfortably in one of his many lavish chairs. He was fully clothed, still in his suit from the award show you’ve arrived home from.

“No way, babe. You made your choice, now it’s my turn to have some fun.” The actor spoke down to you, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “Think you can just play the innocent princess around those showbiz bastards?”

You shook your head, unable to come up with a retort. Mere hours ago, Johnny was accepting an award for his latest movie. His first one fully written and directed by him, it was a huge event for your lover! As he was swept away by adoring fans and paparazzi alike, you wandered to get anywhere but there. The lights, the glamor, it was a lot.. to put it simply. These events weren’t that special to you, but for Johnny you’d sit through them all. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t come up with your own fun, though. As the sea of reporters and cameramen flashed away, you cozied up to Johnny. A normal thing, a cute pose to assert your status as a couple. The position was like this, you’d stand in front of Johnny, your fronts facing each other. You’d look over your shoulder and give the cameras a big smile, the works.  This time, however.. you ‘accidentally’ place your leg between his. The perfect angle, not enough to send suspicion your way from any passing guests, but close enough for Johnny to feel your plush thighs right against his crotch. The silk fabric of your slip dress made it oh so easy to slide your leg back and forth, providing that sinful stimulation. 

Johnny flashed his Hollywood smile, trying to keep his cool. “Damn..” A breathy plea left his lips. “You vixen, in front of the crowd..?” You could feel him stiffen through his pants. “Fucking wait until we get home.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, quick to pull your body flush with his. You swallowed hard, not sure if the right feeling was to be scared or satisfied with your little stunt. 

That brings you back into the present, where your pussy is dangerously close to the chilly floor. Johnny knew what the temperature would do to you, but he also planned for your current brattiness. He made you kneel with your legs slightly spread, a hard position to hold for long. Sooner or later that cunt was going to meet the ground. Seeing you suffer in the meantime was a bonus.

“Please what?” He scoffed, “You didn’t give me a choice before you started rubbing on my dick.” The man pulled out his phone, taking a lewd shot of you. You tried to turn away, but it was no use. 

“I just wanted to have some fun..” Your breathing was labored, you legs were beginning to shake. “You know how I feel about award shows..” 

Johnny was quick to fire back. “And you know how I feel about disobedient sluts.”

Your mouth hung open, a tinge of pleasure sparking in your sex. Dominant Johnny Cage was something you’d never get over. As sweet, cocky, and secretly nerdy he was… the man was kinky. A pervert behind those sunglasses, but anyone could’ve guessed that. 

“You have a choice.” He called out your name, his words dripping with desire. “We can go to bed now and talk about this in the morning.. Gods know how fucking tired I am.” A beat passes, and you almost don’t catch Johnny unzipping his fly. “Or, you can show me how sorry you are. Earn my forgiveness for that stunt.” 

Even in his half asleep horny state, Johnny had the mind to give you an out. Fuck, you’re gonna marry this stupid guy. You decided to answer by looking up at Johnny with doe eyes, “I’ll do anything to be forgiven, sir.”

A throaty groan came from the man, and you knew you were in for it now. Your mind raced with the thought of your punishment. Was he going to make you kneel while he fucked your throat? Made to show the camera how much cum he can pump into your little mouth? Or was he going to take your over his knee, giving you spanks until your tears coated the floor along with your wetness. The possibilities were endless, and you were more than eager to please. 

“Stay there, princess.” Johnny got up, leaving you to kneel in the living room. As he wandered off, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Not because you were fully naked, but due to the huge outlook right onto the city. That fucker probably designed his mansion with that view in mind, and all the dirty things he could do with that in the background. 

You struggled to keep the kneeling position, tempted to give yourself a break while your lover was gone. Though, maybe this was part of the game? He had cameras everywhere and you didn’t want to risk being caught disobeying again tonight. 

Johnny’s footsteps alerted you to his presence, the predatory aura sending shivers down your spine. In his hands was a favorite of you both. A quite sizeable fantasy dildo, one you’ve taken many times. It was large from the tip to the base, only becoming wider the way down. You gulped upon laying eyes on it, getting a good idea of where this was going to go. 

“H-Honey..” You shifted, your pussy dribbling right onto the tile. 

Johnny quickly shushed you, not pleased that you were speaking without permission. 

“Up.” He spoke and you obeyed. “You’re going to ride this cock until I know you’re truly sorry for what you did.” You nodded, turning your head to look for the bottle of lube that usually comes along with the toy.

“Oh, no.” Johnny laughed, “You’re not getting that luxury tonight. Plus..” He stepped forward, dragging a finger through your folds. “It looks like you’ve got enough down there already.” He couldn’t deny it, he was impressed. The effect he had on you was otherworldly, one the man would never take for granted. Johnny watched as your essence slowly ran down his finger. 

“Mmph!” You startled as he suddenly shoved the coated finger in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Johnny bit his lip as you began to suck on his digit. 

With a ‘pop’ he pulled back. The toy was then placed securely on the tile, a convenient suction cup keeping it in place. 

“Go on.” The stage was set, Johnny was going to enjoy this. If you did a good job to please him, then maybe you’d get the privilege to as well. “Put on a show for me.”

You sunk to your knees once more, squatting over the sizable toy. You didn’t dare look up at your lover, you already knew the fucker was recording. 

The tip of the dildo was thick, providing a sharp pleasure as you rubbed it along your cunt in an attempt to get some sort of lubrication. Your folds gave way to the toy, coating it in your slick. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the penetration. This was quite the task to do without a warm up, but it was your punishment after all. As the dick breached your cunt, you immediately cried out. It looked fucking massive in Johnny’s hands, now you can only imagine the view he was seeing. Your size difference was a massive turn on for the man, awakening the need to push you to your limits whenever he could. 

“Look at that, it’s stretching you so nicely for me.” Johnny smirked at you, angling the camera to perfectly frame your stretching pussy. 

Your vision blurred, the feeling of taking such a huge dick was heavenly. Pathetic half groans involuntarily slipped past your lips. Once the tip was inside, you paused before continuing your descent. 

Johnny hummed, mocking your predicament. He had all the time in the world. Seeing you so willing to please him was intoxicating. You took the shaft of the toy with ease, whimpering as you neared the base. Your breathing was labored, your eyes blown wide with need. As your cunt hit the base, a wave of fullness washed over you. Being oh so full, stuffed with cock… it suited you. The feeling of being pushed to your limit and then some, it was addicting, to say the least. And that was just on the receiving end. Describing your lover as ‘turned on’ was a severe understatement. The whole time you were sliding down on the toy, Johnny was stroking himself. One hand holding the phone recording your debauchery and one sating himself. 

“Ride it, bitch.” Johnny commanded, drunk with the authority he had over you. 

You didn’t need another moment. Your hips began to move, grinding on the dildo. Every inch of your cunt was being rubbed by the silicone. A steady growing ball of pleasure began to build in your core. You let all of your inhibitions go, humping it like a slut. The pace you set for yourself was relentless, wanting to give Johnny the show he wanted. He made sure to zoom in on your breasts, their bounce only made your act more vulgar. 

“Feel sorry yet?” He laughed at you, degrading you. “I want to hear it.”

You looked up at him, showing a hint of embarrassment. Johnny wasn’t going to let shit like that slide and you knew that. “Don’t act shy while you’re fucking yourself. Apologize to me as you fuck yourself.” 

Who were you to deny him? You knew your place, humping the toy as your lover pleased himself mere inches away from your face. If you stuck your tongue out far enough, you could get a taste of his dick. 

“I’m..” You began to bounce up and down the dildo, chasing your own orgasm. “I’m so sorry.. I’m sah..” Broken apologies fell from your lips, sad attempts at forming a sentence. “I’m so sorry, Johnny..!” Your legs twitched, you were close. Johnny knew this of course, but didn’t say anything. He was curious to see if you’d ask to cum, or risk further punishments. 

“May..” Your walls clenched around the cock, barely letting it go to fuck yourself. “May.. I.” Johnny huffed, pretending to not understand your gibberish. 

“May I please cum, Johnny!” Screams and moans errupted from your drooling mouth, “I’m so fucking sorry for what I’ve done, see! Please let me cum..” 

With a single word, Johnny allowed you your precious release. You fell forward, holding onto his leg as you fucked yourself to completion. It was a display of pure love and submission, you had never felt more safe and more vulnerable as you were in this moment. The pleasure snapped like a tense wire, and you felt your orgasm flow from your cunt and onto the floor. 

“The camera loves you, that’s it right there.” Johnny framed your face in the recording, catching your climax in real time. And if you humiliating yourself under him wasn’t enough, Johnny came as well. His cock shot ropes of semen all over your face, painting you for his final act of dominance. 

You smiled at the camera, wiping some of his cum off your face. With a dazed chuckle, you licked your fingers clean, blowing a kiss to the camera before the recording ended. 

 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚________________

“Babe.. do you really not like award shows?” Johnny held you steady against his bare body, massaging shampoo onto your scalp. His aftercare consisted of a nice shower, one where you’d never move a muscle. After this, he’d wrap you up in blankets and hold you close as you drifted asleep, or maybe put on a movie. It depended on how spent you were. 

You shifted in his grasp, turning around to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Honestly, no. Though, I like you. I love you. Seeing my handsome boyfriend get recognized for his talent makes all of the screaming fans and flashing cameras worth it.” 

“Hah.. you called me handsome.” Johnny hummed a tune while he finished cleaning you both up. Of course, that’s the part he heard.

[ledesaid]

Seeking a Father for Saturday ►○◙◄ #1

Do you know the solution to enjoy the snack table on Bring Your Child to Work Day?

Billy had an idea, you might be thinking of the same answer, and no, it doesn't include cloning himself...

Just asking for a small, tiny, and harmless favor.

What could go wrong?

There is a gift bag at stake, and Billy knows from a good source, Nightwing, that Batman has included two limited edition toys and a generous supply of various candies for several weeks for each child who confirms their attendance.

"So... if I didn't hear wrong... you want me to bring you in your mortal form on Saturday?"

"Yes?"

There are very few people Billy would ask this of. Really very few. If he really didn't want Batman to find out, this was the way... or so Billy believed.

"Your bravery flatters me, kid, but that statement is going to get you in a lot of trouble. I've already pawned my firstborn."

"So... is that a no?"

"Sorry, Cap, but hey, there are many good guys in the league, try another. I've heard from a good source that Batman has a horde of kids at home. Jefferson calls them Batman Incorporated."

Well, getting Constantine's help would have been easy, but he didn't want to impose... but he had no more viable ideas. It would be very strange for Victor to say he's his dad, and Zatanna would scold him for lying like that...

It's not a lie, it's not a lie if the truth is slightly altered to be clarified at the end... preferably before the day ends. A simple "Hey, it was just a godchild, nephew..."

But now he was doubting... His secret was important... who in the league?... Who in the league could he ask for help?

As Mr. Constantine said, Billy was brave... he needed an adult who was also brave... Someone who could lie... obscure the truth and have fun in the meantime... Brave...

Brave... Brave like...

A lantern.

And coincidentally, he had three today. Hal, Jon, and Guy.

Billy knew Jon wouldn't be very open to helping if he found out he was a child; Hal prided himself on being single and not having kids; Guy was someone who couldn't be forced to tell the truth... He was a cool guy!

And you know what would be even cooler?

For him to be his ticket to the gift table!

Finding him alone in the cafeteria was lucky and even more so that there wasn't a Kryptonian in the watchtower to spy on their conversation.

"Hey, Guy, got a minute?"

"You're in luck, big red cheese, my burger is taking its time, shoot..."

"Well.... you've heard the fuss for Saturday... for the day to bring..."

"... your gremlins to work, Nightwing is spamming everywhere."

"I have a small... Yes!, a small... um..."

He didn't think much about it certainly, this was very spontaneous. How could he tell Guy, 'Hi, I'm a kid who wants you to be my dad for Saturday and hey keep it secret or Batman will eject me from the watchtower for not meeting the minimum age'?

There's no way. Not in Billy's mind at this moment. And wasn’t he supposed to be the brave Captain Marvel?!

"Look, Guy, I'm actually a ten-year-old kid who wants a gift bag and the whole show on Saturday, but I can't tell Batman or he'll kick me out..."

It's an understatement to describe how Guy’s expression bewildered. Billy supposed it didn't go so badly upon seeing Guy laughing heartily while slapping the cafeteria table.

"Damn, Cap! That's the funniest thing I've heard in the last decade!"

But Billy didn't blink. He also didn't doubt. It took a bit, but Guy seemed to understand that Billy was serious.

"Hell, you must be joking... You're joking, right, Marvel?"

"Not at all."

Guy looked at Billy from head to toe... Trying to find some logic...

"Are you an underdeveloped kid or something? Or is it some magic thing that gives you these steroids?"

"A magic thing."

Guy grabbed his burger to savor it.

"Well... I've seen weirder things out there."

"So... is that a yes?"

Guy mumbled unintelligible things while chewing, but to Billy's surprise who was about to run away...

"If you cover one of my shifts, we have a deal, Cheeky Red Cheese."

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

Part 2

[ivynajspyder]

I have been meaning to translate the voice actor interviews that came with the Kirby blu-rays, but real life is killing me.

In the meantime, some tidbits

The vibe overall was super fun and chill. Everyone recorded in one room together, and would go out to eat after and even go on trips together. Everyone has a lot of fond memories of working on the show!

Kenichi Ogata (Dedede) calls Naoki Tatsuta (Escargon), "Tacchan". Naoki calls him Kenichi-senpai

Kenichi adores the character of Dedede and how he can be villainous but also cute. He and Naoki would often ad lib silly things as their characters just as stress relief because Naoki jokes he could barely keep up.

Kisaichi Atsushi (Meta Knight) says he was often nervous, and once when he was having trouble keeping up the "cool voice" for longer scenes, the voice director told him "try harder" lmao

He also can't get over MK being round. So round. "Sharp, but round. Cool, but round"

Makiko Ohmoto (Kirby) says Kirby isn't really speaking aloud when he transforms and says attack names, but it's more "the voice of his heart". She wanted to give that voice more of a teenager feel.

When singing as Kirby, she goes "three octaves higher" to make it even more ear piercing lol, and really enjoyed being Devil Kirby.

[guardian5tiger3]

An honest love reading (general)

Pick a picture -

1 2

3 4

Group one

A cycle has just been completed in terms of love and romance and either you or someone else did not this to happen. They're almost like, dramatic about that.someone involved , you or someone connected to yourself somehow, is overly focused on love and it stresses them out and it feels extreme though I can't pick up on any situation extreme enough to justify this. Someone could have insomnia and or hair loss you could also possibly see someone's tiredness in their eyes. Someone's money might be affected. I keep picking up on a a group of, as in multiple, people. Either someone here is polyamorous and if that's the case it has something to do with denial about something or the want to be in control of something or someone, or for others there's a group of people you're dealing with and they're "heated " about something . I also heard " eyeing you" who the hell uses phrases like this if you know that's a confirmation for ya. You have a group of people somewhat obsessed they seem like obsessed people in general they may be obsessed with something to do with you or just you, I'm also picking up on one individual who has something to do with you that (is very weird, and the groups I'm picking up on more or less give me weird vibes,) well connected to this person I'm getting something about childhood and I'm seeing candy this is really weird and I just involuntarily made an angry or confused look with my eyebrows you know I pushed them down I don't know why. This person may have known you for a long time or thinks they do or something idk this is super strange g make sure you're not overly trusting of every single person ever in your life you know. Someone also could be trying to take something that isn't theirs. Lock your doors , literally. Wow.sorry y'all . Genuinely. I also am somehow picking up on someone's long straight hair and something about glitter. I also saw a purple dress.

Group Two

You guys are easily manipulated and people who are going to want to manipulate you can notice this probably way more than you can about yourself also someone needs to not bite their fork when they take a bite of food it's bad for your teeth I don't know how or why that would come up for me to say sorry. Somebody needs to literally or metaphorically open a window. Um you're on the path to love and it will happen exactly when it's supposed to how it's supposed to with who it's supposed to and honestly unless you really go out of your way you may not have any romance at all until then even if that isn't what you want like for some reason I guess it depends but either your soul wants people in the meantime or you want someone sooner or what I don't know it just don't work like that though you know. I'm generally getting like if you're the type to hope your person isn't with anyone else before they meet you then this is probably for you also. Or your person is like this and I guess they are somewhat powerful cause therefore that's the way it's gonna be and in the meantime I guess you're gonna have to be solo. Somehow this seems better and more productive for your personal development than learning by Interacting with other people and being with "karmics" and stuff.

Group Three

I'm seeing two energies that are basically, literally, nothing alike. Yet somehow they're paired up. You're with this person right now in the past or future or you wanted or want to be with them lol. Some of you it's your soulmate ,though and that's really special and actually really cool and refreshing. Like 99% of you are supposed to at least at one point be with someone like this to you. Or for like very few of you this is just about your signs like fire and water but I really doubt that's as far as it goes you are probably very different either way. You guys are very deep and cool refreshing people very beautiful , good listeners and balanced. Someone has ADHD or something else so you might doubt the good listener thing I'm getting but I think you pay attention to detail or something like somehow this is still infact accurate and you may be don't see it about yourself . I think you all are very deep mentally and have a deep capacity to hold a lot lot lot of information, knowledge, wisdom, n stuff. A lot of people might be drawn to you or notice you and also possibly a lot of different types of people as something about you a lot of different people can still connect with somehow. Yeah also someone's a hater here though and they might tease you with something somehow so I really hope you stay aware of that possibility, realize this about whoever they are and stand up for yourself basically I feel like you have the potential to retaliate and as long as it is nothing illegal I kind of feel like saying I want you to . ????????? I don't know o feel like it would be really satisfying maybe to your guides or it is when you do, fight back or argue cause you're good at it and it would not be easy to win against you or come up with any comeback especially if you plan something. Wow. Hahaha. I'm leaving it here.

I heard desperado and I know three songs called that well two are just remixes of the og you could look up the og or the Mike bars desperado lol . Or just the word maybe is significant, goes with your picture anyway. I feel like most of you that will hear the song will just like the song lol . I can dig it

Group Four

There was a conditional love given and when this was taken away it had someone really stressed out and hurt. Someone was being a complete dick that was giving love conditionally and then stopped . I feel like the shit they do or say is old as f... Like it's ugly and getting old man anyway. This very well could be past energy like long long ago for some of you. This person might have lied. They might be selfish. They may be downplaying your come up or they will when you do come up. Or some , even saying you don't deserve it but I'm being shown you very clearly do. Like this person only gets dustier through time nobody is ever gonna pick up this old kick knack and undust them theyre old and lame. I'm picking up on like, when people say the type of person that peaked in high school. Yeah so this person has their qualities but eventually everyone's like ok whatever yawn. They're definitely super greedy as I just got a card saying " GREED " lol. In terms of future love y'all will be good I'm picking up generally most of you just need to become more comfortable within yourself first and I'm picking up on like cozy night chilling and watching movies and stuff by yourself or with a pet even a friend but you get me just learning to be content also and have good times like that without the need for someone else romantically. Either way somehow some time after you get into that energy a person will come along softly and surely and it will be really nice and happy . Around that time maybe shortly after you will have something happen positive when it comes to work or their work . I also channeled the movie my big fat Greek wedding as I was channeling this last part haha so I thought I should mention that, I know I'm partially Greek and always loved that movie. Someone might like telling stories ? But yeah in the movie she has a glow up and then she sees this guy she thought was cute again and things just worked out and he asked her out and they fell in love it was just simple smooth and sweet and the timing matched up with what I said may happen for you so that's really cute y'all stay hopeful and focus on relaxation. And for some of you if you know this is true though also studying .

[brittle-doughie]

Welcome Back, Handycookie.

Here’s some Context for y’all unaware

Whistling as you went about sweeping and mopping the floors after a long day, you head to where the lockers were for a nice drink to really cool down after your efforts at the sauna today.

Until you received a notification on your phone.

Croissant Cookie: “Yo, best buddy! The TBD is back in action! Come on over and say hello to everyone again!”

Oh, the TBD was back on? Well, you’ll just text Croissant that you’ll be on your way on the train to the department. You wondered if your workspace was untouched…until another phone buzz shook you out of your buzz.

Timekeeper Cookie: “I hate to be kept waiting. You’re coming now.”

Before Timekeeper pulled you through the e phone and out the other side at the TBD.

“Welcome back, my lovely handycookie. How was your break?”

You much preferred NOT being brought here by one of Timekeeper’s bizarre abilities. What was Sauna Egg going to think of your sudden disappearance?

“Forget about him, you’re right back where you belong! Croissant Cookie even took the liberty of tidying up your place before your arrival! Although, she was snooping around in the meantime….”

Croissant was what?

“Oh nothing. With the restructuring of the department back to code, I just couldn’t wait to have you back here! You are the only thing keeping me from being bored out of my mind.”

“Don’t let me keep you waiting though, head to your space. I look forward to having you back under my watch~”

And just like that, Timekeeper was gone. Alright…you headed to where your workspace was at usually and thank goodness it remained mostly unchanged.

“Ooh! Is that Y/N Cookie?”

“Yes, it’s them…”

“Oh oh! Y/N Cookie! Over here!”

You turn your attention back out the hallway to see two cookies approaching you. One was pretty unfamiliar to you and the other being Marble Bread Cookie.

“Hey, Y/N Cookie…”

“Hello to you, Y/N Cookie! We meet at last! I’m Schneeball Cookie, from the Relic Management Division! You know that division, right? My coworker Maple Taffy Cookie is also there?”

Oh right. How could you ever forget such a cookie like Maple Taffy Cookie…

“It’s a pleasure to have been recognized and given a promotion. It means you’ll be seeing me much more often! Marble Bread Cookie too!”

“I got the memo too. I don’t like the thought of more work, but i can’t really reject a potential pay increase…and seeing you more often I guess….”

These two? Odd, thought Maple Taffy or maybe even…Dark Fondue Cookie would get the promotion more likely.

Croissant Cookie opens the door to your workspace suddenly, making you jump a little!

“You kept me waiting a bit, pal! It’s going to be so awesome to be working together again! Oh, it’s Schneeball and Marble Danish Cookie! I see you’ve met my best friend here!“

Well, it’s good to be working at the TBD again.

Though you did want to ask why Croissant is hiding your TBD uniform behind her back?

[powerfultenderness]

Storm (actual)

Summary: When you get flooded in at work, neighbor!König comes to the rescue. Paring: König/F!Reader Rated: Mature Word count: 2331 Notes: [Storm AU]

 

Turns out, when the weatherman said there was a chance for scattered thunderstorms today, he meant it would be storming all day. Storming heavily at that, so much so that by noon you could see water levels rising beyond what you were comfortable driving in. Hopefully it will stop soon.

Of course it didn’t. By the end of the day flood levels were creeping up the car park. Around lunchtime, you ran out and moved your car to the closest spot available (thankfully there were many to choose from, as smarter people left by then or simply didn’t bother to come in at all). It didn’t look like it was in danger of flooding yet, but with the rain still not letting up, you hadn’t wanted to risk it. 

-

You sighed as you looked out the glass doors, “there’s no way I can make it home in that.” 

There were some agreed grumbles, unfortunate souls trapped at work with you. “If only one of us had a truck…” One of your coworkers mumbled beside you.  

You perked up, “I think I might!” 

He turned to you with an arched brow, you clearly had a small car. “...what?” 

You checked your phone for the time, it wasn’t too late, maybe König wasn’t home yet. And if he wasn’t, maybe he could swing by in that big truck of his and help out.

“You know someone with a truck big enough for this?” 

“Mmhm,” you nod as you wait for König to pick up. 

A different coworker smirked at you, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Boyfriend?” 

“No,” you coughed, “he’s my-”

“Hello?” 

“König! Hey,” 

“I’m your König?” 

You let out a quiet nervous laugh, “well, aren't you?” 

Köing’s heart did a silly little jump in his chest as he heard your words, at both the implication of you calling him your king and at the thought that you were laying any sort of claim on him. Still, he chuckled into the phone and cleared his throat, “what can I do for you then?” 

“I don’t suppose you’ve left work already?” 

“No,” he sighed, “some rain and all of a sudden people want to cause problems. Why?” 

“Well the office is a little flooded. Too much for my car, but your truck can make it through, and I was hoping you could-”

“Just let me finish up here and I’ll pick you up.” He didn’t even let you finish your question.

“Great, thanks! But I was also kinda wondering, erm, hoping, maybe-”

Sometimes he thought you were so silly. Always hesitating to ask him things that would do in a heartbeat. “What?”

“Can you also give a few of my friends a ride too?” You would have said coworkers, but you figured he’d be more inclined to say yes if he thought of them as your friends.

“There’s only one person I’d like to ride.” He lets slip under his breath, and in German, thankfully, so all he got in response was a cute little “huh?” from you. “How many people?”

“Including me, four.” 

Your voice pitched up at the end, as if you were nervous that you were asking too much of him. 

“Ah, I can do that.” 

“Thank you!” 

“I’ll call you when I get there. In the meantime, don’t go outside. And be careful.” 

“Alright, you be careful too, König. See you soon.” You hung up and turned to your coworkers with a grin, “truck acquired!” 

One of the women, your closest friend in the office, looked at you with a raised brow, “are you sure it's OK?”

“Yep!” You chirped happily, confident that König really didn’t mind helping a few extra people out. He’s a nice man, after all. 

“So, he’s cool with driving around a bunch of strangers as a favor for you and…he’s not your boyfriend?” 

“We’re. He’s. We’re friends! He’s my neighbor!” Even as you try to explain yourself, you can feel your face heating up. 

“Uh-huh. And you called him König,” 

Oh no.

“Is this the hot Austrian neighbor you were studying German for? How’s that going, by the way?” 

You blushed even more as you heard the other two chuckling at your expense. You have half a mind to tell them to keep quiet or you’ll have König leave them here! But, as you looked at your friend, you sigh. “I, uh, I’ve been busy!” 

Truth be told, you liked when König spoke German to you and you didn’t understand. He would smile (you had stared at him enough that even with his mask on, you could see the smile reaching his eyes) or chuckle so sweetly and translate for you. Sometimes he’d teach you a few phrases, and you’d purposely mess up just so he could lift the bottom half of his mask and show you how his mouth moved. (What dreams just a glimpse of his mouth inspired!)

She just kept smirking at you like she knew what you were pulling. 

“Just, just get your stuff! Don’t want to make the man drive through all of this and make him wait!” You sputter out and retreat to your desk. 

-

It was another half hour before König arrived, practically barreling through the lobby doors and scaring the others. You could understand why, he always cut an intimidating figure on his size alone, but with the big jacket with its hood pulled up, and half his face covered by a gaiter, well you supposed he could very well play the villain in any movie.

You stopped finding him intimidating long ago though and smiled as you greeted him. “König!” 

“Hello, darling.” He finished shaking the water off his coat, some big thing that was water repellant apparently. He didn’t hug you, not even one of those quick side hugs, as he started to unzip his coat. “You have everything?” 

“Yep.”

“This everyone?” He looked over your shoulder at everyone else. “Alright, two up front, two in the back.” 

“Will just need a second to lock up.” Your manager said as König began to guide you to the door. 

It was still raining out, though it seemed to have slowed down just a bit, and König tucked you under one arm while he held his coat over you, protecting you from the rain. 

He led you to his truck parked just outside the front door and helped you and the others in, your manager having to do a quick little jog to catch up after he finished locking up. You sat up front with your friend, you in the middle of course, while the other two sat comfortably in the back.

“Alright, where to first?” König asked as he carefully removed his jacket, he didn't want it dripping water all over you. 

“Here,” you mumbled and took it from him, placing it over your lap, at least all the water rolling off would fall to the floor instead of on the seats. 

While the others were discussing who lived nearest, König slipped a hand under his coat, landing on your thigh just below the hemline of your skirt. This pulled your attention away from the conversation of where to go first and when you turned back to him, you had to bite back a gasp when you noticed how close he was.  

His cloth covered nose brushed against yours as he practically nuzzled you. His hand, so big and warm, and calloused from decades of hard work and weapons handling was gentle against your skin. Until he found the band of your stockings. You don’t miss the near imperceptible hum that escapes him, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and heat blooming across your face. Your heart, already thumping against your chest, nearly bursts when you feel the tips of his fingers tug at the band of your stocking ever so slightly, they move just a scratch. 

“König!” You gasp quietly, whispering his name as you grab his hand over the jacket. 

“Hm, are you alright, honey?” 

You wonder what in the world has him so worked up. He was often a little touchy yes, but never so much like this! You clear your throat quietly, though don’t let go of his hand, and nod. “Thank you, for this. For helping me. And uhm, my friends.” 

“I am glad you called me. I don’t want you driving in this kind of weather.” And honestly, if it were feasible, he’d always drive you everywhere. 

He pulled away enough to look past you at your friend. “Have we decided where we are going?” 

She grinded at you, raising her brows slightly, but started pointing, “first, second, third.” And then she handed you her phone, so you could show König the map she pulled up. 

As he leaned into you a little more than necessary to look at the map, you shot your friend a silent “STOP” but quickly corrected your glare into a smile when he looked up.

-

Like the gentleman that he is, König had helped the other two women down from the truck and even shielded them from the rain as he walked them to their doors. Your manager declined such treatment before there was even the chance of an awkward question by practically jumping out of the truck as soon as it was parked. 

Despite the fact that the passenger seat was now empty, you remained in the middle seat, side pressed against his. He didn’t seem to mind. 

By the time he parked at the flat the rain had fallen to a light drizzle. Something of a relief as it was now dark and even though you trust König, driving in a heavy thunderstorm through a flood at night doesn’t sound like something you want to try anytime soon. 

He drops his hand on your thigh one more time, “out this way.” He motions to his side.

You nod and throw his jacket around your shoulders, knowing full well he’d just tell you to wear it. You quickly scoot after him once he opens the door, but you barely have a chance to gauge how deep the water is before he scoops you up in his arms and shuts the door with a bump of his hip. 

You let out a surprised squeak and laugh, not having expected that, and hold his jacket up over his head, partially shielding you both, as he jogs to the entrance. 

There’s not even an awning over this entrance but König doesn’t put you down to open the door, just shifts your weight to one arm and opens it with his now free hand. 

Once safely inside the stairwell, you sigh and gently shake his coat free of water off to one side. Lot of good that did though, with as much as he had been jumping in and out of the rain, his shirt and pants were practically soaked through. Even his mask was damp against his face, how he wasn’t suffocating was beyond you. 

As for you, your stockings and shoes were wet, and the side you had pressed up against König is damp, but other than that you were good. Good enough that you expected him to set you down, which of course he didn’t, just started making his way up the stairs.

“Uh, König? I’m okay to walk..?” 

He shook his head and looked at you with a gleam in his eyes. “No. I don’t want you to slip and fall on the stairs again.”

“That was one time!!” You gasped and pouted at him, though wrapped your arms around his shoulders to stabilize yourself, even though he proved he could carry you just fine.

He chuckled, “and it wasn’t even raining then. Need to keep you safe.” 

You let out something akin to both a scoff and a laugh and rolled your eyes, it was only two flights of stairs and König was already almost at the top. “Ok, König.”

Maybe that’s what was up with him today. The storm must have made him feel a little worried about you, leading to this protectiveness. 

“Besides, I know you like being carried like this.” He teased as he gave you a gentle shake at the landing to your shared floor.

You couldn’t help the embarrassed little giggle as you hid your face against his shoulder. Yea, you did like it. How many men could just fully princess carry you on just a whim? Not many. His strength never fails to amaze you. 

You looked up at him just as he paused at your door, though he didn’t let you down just yet. “Thank you, for everything, König.”

“Of course, prince-”

König froze when you pressed your lips to the side of his face in a soft kiss, your upper lip barely touching the skin of his cheek as most of his face was still covered by his mask. 

Even as you wiggled out of his hold and hopped down, you could see the tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink. Ah, he was going to tease you and now look at him! 

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet while muttering a quiet, “you’re welcome.” 

Perhaps your friendship wasn’t quite on the level of kisses on the cheek! 

You turned around to unlock your door, a smile still on your face. “Oh,” you pushed open your door but turned back to him, “I know it’s a little later than usual, but do you want to stop by in like an hour or so for dinner? Something nice and hot sounds good after today.” 

König nodded enthusiastically, he hadn’t quite been ready to say goodnight to you yet! “Yea, yes! I’ll see you in an hour.” 

And much to your surprise, he leaned down and gave you a quick peck on your cheek. A mirror of your kiss only moments ago and suddenly it was your turn to blush and stumble over your words.

“Alright, see you in a bit.” 

End notes: I had this idea that could have went two ways. I could fit this one into the neighbor narrative easily, so I made it part of the story. The AU version of storm would mess with my planned ending, thus it's an AU of the story. Also, that time you fell down the stairs isn't written yet (Chronological Order is my nemesis).

[Neighbor!König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): 

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog  

[abyssalzones]

art summary for 2024 ^_^ just used a template I pulled off deviantart this time, maybe next year I'll feel up to making something a little fancier. (more talking below)

overall I'm very happy with all I've managed to accomplish this year (ignoring the college-shaped gap in the middle) but I'm really looking forward to getting more done in terms of my large-scale projects in 2025... for a while I thought I was going to leave art as a side hobby while becoming invested in a different career but realizing that was going to make me miserable for the rest of my life has really re-ignited my passion for art. I could potentially be someone other than an artist and a storyteller, but I don't want to be.

with that in mind I plan on expanding things irt my online presence because I've never been very good at.. "marketing" myself... and I don't know how much that will change since I enjoy having a little authentic place here on tumblr to post art and blog at the same time, but I do have plans to open a patreon soon and maybe start selling prints. patreon would mostly be a place where I put short "bonus" comics, I still want my comics to be largely accessible to the public but sometimes I draw stuff and think "nah I don't think the public should get this one for free." it'd also be a good way to give people glimpses of WIPs as I work on projects that take a lot of time.

speaking of WIPs, I really really really want to finish this big d&d&md comic some time in the next few months since I started it all the way back last summer and it's been waylaid by... my starting irl college. ironically.

it's one of my favorite comics I've made so far and I think it'd be a huge loss if I just let it languish or didn't bother to fully finish it the way I'd been intending to. it also has a cool wizard battle in it. so, that's neat I think.

finally I really want to work on escape velocity, particularly making it more accessible to people. I always find myself in this awkward position where I'm never really sure how to talk about something I've been working on for seven (eight??) years without giving away too much, or without sacrificing the time I'm spending on writing and eventually Drawing it to make promotional stuff that gets people interested. I'm still working on a solution for that but in the meantime I plan on finishing up the basic plot outlines for the first act, then once that's done and I've written up dialogue for the first chapter I can get to work on DRAWING. yay!!!!!

anyway, thank you to anyone who has supported me and enjoyed my art this year :] expect more to come... soon...