#y'all i actually still have some.... swirling in my head

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–” 

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–” 

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he knew about the party. 

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed. 

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 

Shit. 

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 

Really don’t. 

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice. 

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though. 

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 

You were also a hard worker. 

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 

Choso put a hand over his face. 

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 

He had to move more carefully. 

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?  

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 

“Oh Crap!” 

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!” 

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 

Tch. 

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

[in-som-niyah]

hi!! i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day 😭😭 i was wondering if you could write something about jason x fem!reader getting married? mostly fluff but ill never say no to some good smut

a/n: "i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day" WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNNN STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME HELLO??? like wdym u like my work so much u spend so much time on my blog i love u gimme kiss

anyway this prompt is *chefs kiss* bc we all know Big Bad Jason Todd™ is such a loverboy softie but most of all he loves hard.

I think that before he met you he never thought that he would be so enamoured with someone who also feels the same way about him at the same time, that also wants to marry him??? He thinks he's too flawed and violent and abrasive for someone to even like being around him. So marrying him??? haha you're funny.

But after YEARS (yes, it takes him years of a committed relationship with you to fully trust that you actually like being with him for an extended period of time, let alone forever) of handling his emotions, outbursts and injuries with grace while still giving him a whack at the back of his head when he's being stupid, he considers marrying you.

Remember, Jason Todd is fucking scared himself, and he doesn't want to scare you off with a ring that literally promises forever with him. Though he loves you, he wants you to be happy in the end. Will you be happy with him in the end?

It takes a lot of mental and emotional strength to overcome these fears that swirl around his head.

When he does get over it though, he's so attentive yet sneaky when picking your ring. There's a luxury jewellery store on the way to your favourite clothing store at the mall, and he literally takes you to the whole mall just to pass by the store. He always looks to see what your eyes catch, what you like and don't like. Doesn't matter if he ends up spending hundreds since you're at the mall so much, he'll do it just to make sure he gets exactly what you want.

Jason also uses his extensive detective training to find out what cut and stone you want on the ring. He's ok with diamonds, but would want something more unique and personal for his love. He wants something that always reflects you, no matter the occasion.

Side note: once the ring comes he would definitely put together a photo album of pics he took of the ring in plain sight while you're completely oblivious just for shits and giggles

Finally, when it's time to pop the question, he doesn't do flashy and big productions with lights and letters and petals and stuff.

He would be dancing in the kitchen with you on a lazy Saturday, eating pancakes and bacon and when the song ends just casually asks "if I were to ask you, would you marry me?" Now he looks collected as he lovingly smiles down at you but is actually shitting himself until you say that you would in fact marry him if he asked. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the most perfect, detailed, gorgeous ring you could ever ask for while properly asking you to marry him. Cue the waterworks (from both of you) and the celebratory make-out sesh.

Y'all definitely fucking the night of the proposal though

I feel like it would be realllllly possessive since yk you literally belong to him now

"tell me who this pussy belongs to, pretty girl" Knowing full well you can't answer because your eyes have already rolled back mid-stroke and you're babbling incoherently. It does, however, put a smug ass smirk on his face.

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

a/n pt2 bc i can't shut up: i hope u like it!!! i wasn't in the mood to write anything smutty but idk im in my soft era for jason i just want his stoic self to love me :(((((

[aemondsbabe]

Two Souls, Entwined

summary: dreams & dirty talk || helaena has been plagued with visions; things between her and her lady in waiting finally reach a boiling point

pairing: helaena targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, mutual pining, angst but happy ending, dry humping, breast/nipple play, dirty talk but make it poetic and loving, slight aegon slander i broke my own heart, i love helaena sm, there needs to be more content for her i love her, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 4.1k

a/n: happy day ten of 12 days of smuff!! i'm actually very excited/proud of this one, it got a lot more personal than i was expecting! really feeding that scared bi girl i was in middle school idk. i hope y'all enjoy it!!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @merrypembertons

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Helaena sighs when she opens her eyes and blinks, disoriented by the early morning light, her head still clouded with sleep. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers to the emptiness of her chambers, the cryptic phrase a familiar one now as it had been making its home in her head for the past few weeks. 

Sitting up with a groan, she pauses at the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead as the cloudy figures from her dream seem to swirl around her still. She was growing frustrated with the shadowy shapes, as much as she hated to admit it – she did not often enjoy her dreams, they often brought news of unpleasant tidings, secrets that she alone seemed expected to bear, but for the past few weeks her dreams had been… pleasant. Joyous, in fact. Yet they seemed much further away than the others, only revealing small slivers of information to her night after night. 

She smiles softly as she gives one last glance out the window before padding over to the vanity in her chambers, determined to brush out her hair before the maids have the chance, they were always too rushed and hurried. Her mind drifts back to her dream as she runs a comb through her fair hair; lately, this mysterious dream seemed to be the only thing she could focus on for very long. 

The figure in it seemed so familiar, moving around her as if it was an old friend, someone safe. She sighed again as she thought, blushing despite herself as she recalled her latest vision, remembering how the shadow had moved about her, as if in a courting dance, before it leaned in closely, though if it were for a kiss or to whisper a secret she didn’t know. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” She repeats, as if the repeating will somehow reveal more. 

It puzzles her greatly, the feelings of safety mixed with distinct romantic desire, a deep wanting from somewhere within her. There aren’t many people she even feels safe around, and even less so those she’d ever felt romantic longing for, and a much shorter list followed of people who had ever felt romantic longing for her. She feels secure around her mother, of course, and grandsire and her precious younger brothers, but she cannot help but wrinkle her nose with disgust at the thought of romantic intent with any of them.

She blinks, setting her hairbrush down and biting her lip as she thinks. I feel safe with Aegon, she ponders, brows knitting together, He’s never given me a reason to not feel safe but… She sighs, not bothering to finish the thought. She was well aware her marriage was one of politics, not of love. She remembers there had been whispers of many suitors when she’d finally come of age; everyone from Aegon and Aemond to her half-sister’s bastard sons had been considered, and though Helaena appreciated some more than others… she didn’t desire any of them. 

Before she can help herself, her blue eyes flit over her own curves as she gazes at herself in the mirror, wishing, as she had so many times before, that she could reach out and feel her own reflection – feel a mirrored twin with similar soft skin and supple flesh. She wishes that soft, delicate fingers could touch her as well; she had grown tired of rough, battle worn touches long ago. 

Someone I feel safe with and feel romantic longing for, she thinks again, blinking rapidly as a familiar face immediately springs to mind yet again, just as it had every time she’d pondered this mystery for the last few weeks, only growing more frustrated. It can’t be, she’d decided that long ago, long before this vision began. 

But...

The Gods only ever seemed to show her visions that were assured, that would come to fruition, one way or another. Maybe… maybe that meant that y–

No, she thought, locking eyes with her reflection, Don’t be ridiculous. 

She smiles as she hears her chamber doors opening, at the same time they do every morning, and turns around on the ornate, cushioned chair at her vanity, her eyes locking with your familiar ones as you waltz it. 

“Good morning, Princess,” her heart beats a mite faster at the sound of your voice, at the bright smile that graces your lips as you stride to her, “I trust you slept well?”

“Good morning, sweet friend,” she greets you brightly, standing and pulling you into a hug as she did every day, “I did, quite peacefully, actually. And you?” She asked, trying to ignore the small voice that longed to hold you more closely, as she did everyday. 

“I did as well,” your hand lingers in hers for a moment as she steps away, sitting back at her vanity as the maids arrive, instantly fluttering around the two of you like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, “After we break fast, would you like to come to the gardens with me?”

Helaena merely nods, though inside she buzzes, her heart fluttering like a bird’s wings. 

I would follow you into the Seven Hells, she longs to say. 

You wake with a small start, your hand instantly flying to your lips. You could swear they still tingle for a second from when she’d kissed you, just before you’d woken up. Blushing, you glance around your chambers, as if there would be anyone else there, and finding them empty leaves you both relieved and disappointed all at once. 

Sighing, you slide off of your plush bed and walk over to your small vanity and use the small wash basin to splash water on your face. A small thrill shoots up your spine as you glance over your shoulder in the mirror, knowing from the position of the light filtering through your windows that it’s nearly time to go find your friend. 

Friend.

It’s a funny word, you think, not one you would have imagined assigning to the princess all the many years ago when you’d arrived at King’s Landing, young and eager to be a lady in waiting for Helaena. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your lips each time you think of her, your quiet, captivating princess. You meet your own gaze in the mirror and frown, looking at yourself in the way a disappointed parent would look at a child. 

Not yours, you chide, like repeating it over and over would make it hurt any less, Not yours, not yours, not yours. 

Sighing yet again, you rise from your spot at the vanity and quickly grab your robes, eager to escape your own thoughts. 

“This one is the iphiclides podalirius,” Helaena says, her voice soft as she marvels at the delicate butterfly perched on the back of her hand, “More commonly called the scarce swallowtail, I believe. It’s truly remarkable, normally they don’t travel this far north, though I’m told they’re a common sight in the gardens of Sunspear.”

“Then we are quite lucky to see it,” you smile, setting your embroidery hoop on the bench beside you as you study the yellow and black striped insect, though your eyes seem to drift to the princess on their own; you can’t help but smile as you see the way her beautiful sapphire eyes light up as she examines the small creature, “It’s very beautiful.”

Like you, you think, swallowing down the words. 

“Would you like to hold her?” Helaena asks, looking at you hopefully. 

As always, you nod, aware that you were the only one who seemed to entertain her fascination with insects and plants. Selfishly, you liked that. 

Slowly and carefully, Helaena guides the butterfly onto the back of your hand; the two of you sitting close together, close enough for your shoulders to press together. A giggle leaves you at the feel of the insect's feet on your skin, so small and light, like tiny, faint kisses.  

“Perhaps she was drawn to the hydrangeas,” the princess muses, “Those are new this year, though I suppose any of the other very colorful plants would spark her fancy as well, like the lilac or poppies or…”

It takes you a second to notice that she’s gone quiet next to you and you finally tear your gaze away from the butterfly, frowning slightly when you see the look on her face, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused as they flit back and forth like she’s watching figures you cannot see. 

“Princess?” You ask softly, reaching out to take her hand, only halfway aware of the butterfly fluttering away, “Helaena?” You ask again, a bit louder, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers, so faintly that the words scarcely leave her lips. Your frown only deepens, your eyebrows knitting together as you shake your head, trying to make sense of her words. 

“What?” You ask softly, used to hearing her mutter odd phrases but seeing her in a trance was something altogether different, “Helaena? Should I go fetch the maester?” You don’t know why you ask her, not expecting a response. 

The figure danced in front of her again, clouded in darkness, though instead of feeling cold and empty like the dark so often did to her, these shadows hugged Helaena like a blanket. 

She blinked, and suddenly everything changed, becoming clear as if she’d blinked away tears. The clarity was startling for a second as the edges of the figure sharpened before her, still leaning toward her as if it meant to whisper an amorous secret.

Finally, her eyes focused and in that moment, she felt as if she could be knocked over by the air current made from the flittery wings of a butterfly. 

You. 

It was you, just as she’d always suspected, standing before her as if you’d always been there. 

Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe. The phrase repeats in her mind like a mantra as she stares at you, marveling at the way you stare at her. 

Like she’s precious, something to be fawned over. Something to be… loved? 

Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she reaches out, her fingers finally skimming over your cheek. 

She could cry, perhaps she is crying, she doesn’t know. The only thing she’s sure of is that this feels so right, like a puzzle piece within her has finally shifted and slotted into place. 

Just as it crosses her mind to lean in and kiss you, the vision falls away, words echoing in her mind as the gardens come back into focus.

Not a friend. 

Not a friend.

Not a friend.

Yet...

Not a foe. 

“Helaena, please!” You beg, urgency coating your voice as you lean in closer, closer than you’d ever dared before, praying to see some spark of recognition in the princess’s eyes. 

Suddenly, she seems to come back to herself, gasping as you jump back away from her, startled. 

“Oh!” She breathes, blinking a couple times before her blue eyes finally fix themselves on you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

You shake your head quickly, moving back toward her and taking her hands in yours once more, your heart twisting as you notice them trembling slightly. “There’s no need to apologize, I’m just happy you’re alright.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Helaena staring at you in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, as if she’s seeing you for the first time, before she seems to catch herself and look away, much to your disappointment. 

“Was that one of your dreams?” You ask softly, looking down to where her hand rests within yours. 

“Yes.” She says simply, her eyes locked on the way your fingers overlap hers as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her to enterwine them. 

“What did you see?” You ask, catching her gaze again. There’s a fire in her eyes now that makes you shiver. 

She’s quiet for a moment, neither of you so much as breathing as you stare at each other – the princess looking at you so intently you wonder if she’s trying to hear your thoughts. You pray she can’t. 

“Nothing of importance,” she says finally, pulling her hands away and standing from the bench suddenly, “They’re just shapes, really. Fuzzy things.”

“Alright,” you smile as you stand with her, picking up your embroidery hoop from where it had been abandoned at your side, “If you ever wish to discuss them, I would be more than happy to listen.” You tell her, desperately wanting to hold on to whatever moment you had just shared with her. 

She merely nods with a small, soft smile and holds her arm out for you to take, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for supper.” 

The fire warming your skin from the hearth in Helaena’s chambers normally felt cozy and inviting, but tonight the heat of it was stifling as the two of you sit in silence. Each of you is presumably working on an embroidery piece, although the atmosphere feels more like that of a stalemate with each passing moment. 

You can feel her looking at you, sneaking glances every minute or so. You imagine she can probably feel the same, perhaps that’s why she keeps looking your way, because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off her either. 

Finally, the tension in the room seems to boil over and you can’t take it anymore; your fingers dig into the wood of your embroidery hoop as you gather the courage to speak. 

“Have I… Are you cross with me?” 

“Pardon?” The princess asks, jumping a bit before laying her hoop at her side, her eyes wide as she looks at you unabashedly now. 

“You, well, you keep looking at me. I just, I’m hoping I haven’t offended you in some way.” You chance a glance at Helaena and quickly do a double take, heart clenching in your chest when you see that she looks as if she’s about to cry. 

“You haven’t,” she breathes, shaking her head emphatically, locks of pale hair cascading down her shoulders as she does, “I simply… I was considering the dreams I’ve been having, the one I had earlier today.” 

“But what does that have to do with me?” 

“You’ve been in them!” She says suddenly, loudly, like she has to force out the words. 

“What?” You blink. 

She sighs heavily and swallows, wringing her hands on her lap. “You were in them. You have been for weeks.” 

You wonder if the princess can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you blink, silently praying to whichever of the Gods may be listening that Helaena’s dreams and your dreams were not somehow intertwined. In the back of your mind, you knew your pleas were useless. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish that’s been plucked from the water before you finally find your voice, “What… what am I doing in them?” Your whole body buzzes, fearing the answer and desperately needing it all at once. 

The princess hesitates, you want to scream as you can all but see her weighing her options in her mind before she finally, finally speaks. 

“Courting me, kissing me.” 

A small withering, wounded noise passes your lips at her words. You feel dizzy, the room spinning as you feel as though the entire world is crashing down around you while at the same time, it’s as if a mountain’s worth of weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

“And your visions… they only show things already fated to occur?” You feel frozen as you ask, not a muscle in your body moving. You know the answer even as the question leaves your lips, but you need to hear her say it. 

Helaena sighs and shakes her head, a frown cutting across her pretty face, “That’s why it’s frustrating,” she bites, spitting the words like the mere act of explaining is painful, “This one cannot come to pass, I do not understand why I see it…”

She keeps speaking, talking through her annoyance, but the sound of your own blood pumping wildly through your veins blocks out her words. 

No, your head pounds as you silently scream, No, no, no! Please, just let me explain, give me a chance, I’ll do any—

A loud sob cuts through your thoughts; the world seems to wrench its way back to you as you look at the princess, eyes widening when you see the tears flowing down her flushed cheeks. 

“You could never truly wish to…” She says slowly, brokenly, words fading like she can’t even bear to say them. 

“I do.” The words feel punched from your chest like you’re holding your heart out to the open air.

Helaena’s ocean eyes cut to yours as her breath hitches, the both of you not daring to move a muscle as you sit together on the small sofa in her chambers; the fire crackling in the hearth is the only indication that time has not ceased to exist. 

You aren’t sure who moves first, maybe the Gods have threaded the two of you together so tightly that you move as one, you can’t be sure. 

But her lips are on yours. 

And her hands cup your cheeks as yours scramble to fit around her waist, four hands poised on a knife’s edge. 

You sigh against each other, pulled together like a knot in a thread, and you gasp as you find yourselves pressed together, chest to chest.

Finally, you part for air, panting together as you stare, foreheads pressed together. 

“Princess—“

“You love me?” She asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek; it’s only then you realize you’re crying. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer to you, “And you?” 

“Yes,” she echos, her thighs slotting over one of yours as she climbs atop your lap, “You are my heart beating out of my body.” 

Her words zap through you and your heart twists in your chest as your hands clamber against her, your lips press against hers again urgently. Twin moans, muffled into each other's mouths, sound between you as your hands cup her rear, pressing her more urgently against you. 

“You are beautiful,” you sigh, hands grabbing at her plush curves through the silk fabric of her skirts, “You’re so soft and —“ 

“Warm,” she breathes, moaning into the column of your neck as her lips move against your skin, “You’re so warm, my love, like the sun.” 

My love. The pet name sends a shiver down your spine as the two of you move together, pressing kisses against whatever patches of skin you can find, rocking together instinctually. The firmness of her thigh presses deliciously against your center, your skirts rucked up enough to bare your smallclothes, which press welty against your core. 

You gasp, pressing a kiss to the princess’s collarbone as her hips move tantalizingly on your thigh, the warmth between her legs nearly suffocating as you whimper and sign against each other’s soft skin. 

“I have always loved you,” you confess, nearly coming undone as she begins tugging at the ties at the bosom of your gown, her hands shaking as she pulls them loose, “Always, from the first moment I saw you.”

She makes a noise between a moan and sob as she finally tugs your bodice loose, and you whimper as her lithe fingers ghost over your breasts, causing your back to arch into her touch. “I’ve always loved you too,” she sighs as her soft hands cup your chest, kneading the flesh in her palms, “I always wanted to court you, marry you, I,” her voice breaks off in a faint, high-pitched whine as you finally manage to unbutton the bodice of her gown, she savors the feel of your lips and hands against her breasts for a moment more before continuing, “Gods, I wished to bed you, I’ve always longed to know what you would feel like, how sweet you’d taste.”

Her confessions nearly make you weep as you kiss over the fat of her breasts, keening into her supple skin as she delicately pinches at your nipples, “I have only ever thought of you, my sweet princess,” your chest heaves as you speak, your words muffled as you lick over her nipple, “When I sleep, when I wake, when I–” The words stick in your throat as you freeze, peering up at her through your lashes, somehow still impossibly afraid of going too far, or too fast, or too anything. 

“When you what?” She asks, her voice so soft and sweet as she stares down at you, her fingers digging into your breast and side as her sapphire eyes flit between yours, “Tell me, my love, when you what?” She urges, her hips moving somehow more desperately against yours, only serving to fuel the fire slowly building within you. 

“Gods, when I touch myself,” you whisper, shuddering as she lets out a breathy moan above you, “When I peak, sweet princess, I think only of you.” Your confession ends in a sharp gasp as she angles you backwards, anchoring you to her with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her lips trail down your neck and collarbone before finally, she presses firm, fiery kisses to your breast, panting as she wraps her petal pink lips around your nipple and sucks, pressing her thigh more firmly against your center as she does. 

“I think only of you too,” she breathes, blue eyes fluttering up to yours as your hands tangle in her pale locks, “Every time I touch myself, I dream of you,” she mumbles around your breast, her touch all but burning into you as she kisses across your chest before mouthing at the other side, “When my brother beds me, it is you I see, my precious lady.”

You practically sob as her admission sends you reeling, each cell in your body bursting like lightning from a stormcloud as you peak. You’re useless to do much else other than tremble in her hold as shivers travel in currents down your spine, your smallclothes no doubt ruined as your center clenches frantically at nothing, your pearl so taut and achy as it twitches against the princess’s thigh. 

You don’t waste a second when your high subsides, moving frantically as you push Helaena back, slotting yourself perfectly atop her, pressing your thigh between her legs like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Your skirts fan out around your bodies, blanketing your forms in a soft sea of silk, your bare chests pressed tightly together as you rut against her, needing to see her awash with pleasure more than you need breath in your lungs. 

“My love, my sweet princess,” you sigh into her mouth, your tongues swirling together as she all but cries beneath you, her hands digging possessively into your waist, “I am yours, my love, until the end of my days.” You swear, pressing your thigh tightly against her center, and your heart soars as she finally shatters in your grasp.

You watch, enraptured, as she peaks; mesmerized at the blush that blooms on her skin, at the way her blue eyes roll back as her eyes flutter closed, at how her breasts heave as she sucks in desperate breaths. The sounds she makes seem to pierce into your soul, each whimper and moan and cry ripping away parts of you until your heart is stripped bare, beating only for her. 

The two of you lay in a heady silence for many moments, the only sounds being your soft, panting breaths as you each come down and the ever-present crackle sounding from the hearth. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” Helaena whispers, her voice raspy as she speaks.

“Pardon?” You ask, pulling back from her embrace just enough to meet her gaze.

“That phrase,” she explains, her eyes glimmering in the firelight as a smile steadily blossoms on her pink lips, “I kept hearing it, in my dreams about you.”

You stay silent, tracing soft circles on her soft skin, leaving room for her to continue.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see.”

“Hm?”

You aren’t my friend, the Gods spoke truthfully,” she beams, radiating joy as she studies your face, “You’re my love.”

Her statement is simple, but it makes you smile all the same as you press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Yes,” you nod, pulling back to meet her eyes as you lay a hand over her heart, “Always.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[angstychilz]

Y'all, the idea of Shapeford has wormed its way into my head and fundamentally changed my brain chemistry at this point. I mean, hear me out real quick!

Okay, okay, strap in cause this is a bit of a longer tangent than I usually yap about. I promise I'll make it worth your while QwQ

Firstly, considering I imagine this happening on the first day of Weirdmageddon (or at the very least some time very early in it), imagine what lengths the Pines' family would need to go in order to actually beat Bill this time. They can't pull the ol' switcheroo with Standford in the shape he's in now. Literally! I've had ideas on what this could lead to, but I've been swirling it around indecisively for about the entire time I have been growing this concept. Gotta let that baby cook for a few more days I guess XD

Then there is the fact that Ford being no longer human is, by all accounts, far more of a freak than he could have ever imagined himself as. And, depending on how you think about it, it really is a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point. Hell, to drive the point home, he actually has five fingers for once (since I imagine Euclidean's naturally have 4 fingers so by all accounts Ford is still Polydactyly) but that's the least freakish thing about him by human standards. He eats out of the same whole that has his eyes, he speaks and yet has no mouth, and he is the farthest thing from anything mammalian with his physical makeup. Even worse than that, there isn't anything he can exactly do to reverse the damage at this point. He's just a shape now as his human body was obliterated beyond truly fixing. So he'll just have to live with this new form, or, ya know, go crazy trying to find a way to reverse it.

Furthermore, while I like to imagine he would try softening the blow by just telling Dipper and Mable how Bill simply turned him into a shape for entertainment, having to admit to Stanley that the real reason he can't simply be turned back is because he was by all accounts killed and reincarnated as something completely different has so much angst potential. Like, fr fr, just think of Stanley realizing Staneford actually died, and imagine the distrust and hurt he'd feel considering their rocky brotherly bond to begin with and knowing the only reason his brother is 'back' is because Bill basically went 'nuh-uh' and turned Standford into this thing. Imagine the possible guilt of never truly reconciling with said human brother before whatever he is now.

Gosh, I just realized, would Standford never be able to leave Gravity Falls then due to the barrier? Would his weirdness make it so that the whole 'going to sail the seas with your twin brother' dream Stanley had is just dead in the water?

Also, a part of me is just made so delightfully ill at imagining Standford having untapped potential power in this form but being unable to access it due to his own metal barrier of trying to be less freakish and more 'human'. Whatever that means to him by this point.

Does this make any sense? Am I actually cooking? Y'all please, I feel like I'm only one this invested in the idea of a Shape Standford Pines and it has me in a chokhold

Anyways, this New Normal AU has been on my mind, and I just needed to dig out some of the brain worms to release the pressure in my head. Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk, and maybe expect some more doodles and art down the line cause I haven't even finished the possibilities.

[giggly-squiggily]

The Tickle Demon: First Strike (Black Clover)

Happy Sunday! Heyo everyone- I hope y'all are having a great weekend, and for those who work on Sundays I hope your day has been smooth! This is a collab with the amazing @intheticklescloset! The Ler!Liebe brainrot is strong within us jkarkjeajrkjaew Thank you so much Nym for collabing with me; I had so much fun!

For Nym's Part: The Tickle Demon: Second Strike

Summary: Liebe is familiar with tickling but has little to no experience actually doing so. Lucky for him, and not so lucky for Yuno- Asta decides to help him change that.

“Yuno!”

Said boy turned to find Asta waving at him, running down the paved roads leading away from the capital. It was their first real day off in months; no missions, no training- just a handful of hours to relax and explore the town like before.

And to start shit. “Hey, Shortsta.”

“There you go, making jokes!” Asta rolled his eyes fondly as he caught up, pulling him into a warm embrace. “I missed them, though. Really- it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve caught up! Look at you- you’re…huh?” Asta narrowed his eyes as he leaned back, taking him in. “Oh no way..did you get even taller?”

“Maybe. You’ve certainly gotten wider.” He poked at Asta’s arm, the muscle dense beneath his fingertip. “You’re like a miniature version of your captain.”

“Ha! You think so?” Asta let him go properly as he flexed, posing like one of those action figures the kids back in Hage played with. “I’ve been- OI!” He suddenly flustered, irritated at yet another short joke! “You’re really hung up on my height today, aren’t you?”

Before Yuno could reply with another playful jab, a small giggle was heard. Snickery and loud, and also kinda squeaky. The brunette furrowed a brow in confusion. It didn’t sound anything like Asta.

“Liebe, shush! Don’t laugh!” Asta cried indignantly, looking over his shoulder. Only then did Yuno finally see him.

A tiny black ball with hair like Asta’s- no bigger than a mouse. Right now, the tiny ball was laughing in its even smaller hands, one eye squeezed shut with mirth as it poked at Asta’s cheek. “He called you short! Hahahhaha!”

“That’s rich coming from you! You’re even shorter than me!”

“Take that back, you mortal!”

“You son of a-”

“What’s that?” Yuno cut in before what he suspected to be a bloodbath could erupt, tilting his head curiously. “Or should I say- who’s that?”

“Oh!” Asta’s face lit up, reminded once more his friend was before them. “Yuno! I want you to meet someone!” He gestured for the small blurb-Liebe, he said?- over so he was floating between them. “This is Liebe! He’s my demon!”

“...Huh.” Yuno nodded. That makes sense.

“Wha-You’re not shocked?” Asta was sure this was some world renowned information.

“Not really.” Then again, this was Yuno. He was rarely ever shocked. “You’re not exactly known for normalcy.”

That…was true. If Asta were being honest, Yuno’s lack of surprise at this revelation was comforting. He’d be rather sad if Yuno suddenly stopped wanting to hang out with him due to it.

The other part however was a bit peeved. He was hoping Yuno would at least drop his jaw! “Fine then- lemme show you something really cool! Liebe!” He shot his arm out to the tiny demon, watching the skin turn black as their pack formed. “Devil’s Union!”

“YEAH!”

A boom of magic, a swirl of a grimoire, and Liebe…was not fused with him. It was only after he came to full size that they remembered Captain Nacht’s words of warning.

If I come to find you two unionizing outside of battle, I’ll kill you both.

Instead of a new form, Asta…stood with Liebe on his shoulders. Stacked. They struck what they hoped would be a cool pose for the wind mage, sparkling in the sun. “How do you like us now?”

Yuno took them in, expression unchanged. Then he clapped his hands slowly-the sound soft.

“Don’t you dare pity-clap us! Whoa- Liebe stop moving!” Asta yelped as they were thrown off balance, wobbling about.

“You’re the one moving! Stay still- AH!” Liebe yelped and clung on tighter, accidentally choking Asta. The pair swirled about before coming towards Yuno- the other boy reaching out to steady them.

“Just stop here-Eeh!” He twitched when Liebe grabbed onto his shoulders, thumbs far too close to his neck. “Careful.”

“Hm? Why do you make that sound?” Liebe asked, his grip on Yuno unyielding. “Asta- what was that?”

“What was what?” The shorter mage asked, looking between them.

“Nothing. It was nothing at all-hmmmph!” Yuno shivered when Liebe dragged his thumb against his neck once more. Asta’s eyes widened, and he began to grin. “D-Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” They asked in unison. Yuno tried not to roll his eyes. Twins indeed.

“You know what.” He poked Asta in the belly for emphasis, making him step back with a giggle. “There, you’re stable now.”

“Asta- Asta! Why did he make that noise?” Liebe asked again, pointing at Yuno while the other sought his footing. “Tell me!”

“He laughed. He’s ticklish.” Asta nodded, grinning again when he saw Yuno’s ears get all red. “Humans are like that, you know?”

“They are?” Liebe hummed, looking thoughtful as he rested his folded arms across Asta’s head. “I see, I see…”

They stood there, lost in thought briefly before Asta gestured for him to lean down, voice low. “Wanna try something?”

More whispers, and the demon let out a string of giggly snickers, nodding rapidly. Yuno raised a brow in the back, already knowing where this was going and not liking it one bit.

“What are you two snickering about- Whoa!” Yuno didn’t have a chance to react. Asta came running at him, Liebe still on his shoulders. “Oh no you don’t!” He went to run, but Asta was always just that much faster than him without magic. Seconds later, they were on the ground, Yuno groaning at the weight of two Asta-sized beings landing on him. “Oof.”

“Asta! Asta we got him!” Liebe cackled, cheering from his seat on Yuno’s butt as Asta scooted out of the way, quickly grabbing Yuno’s wrists. “Do we do it now?”

“Not yet, Liebe- give him a second to catch his breath.” Asta insisted, watching Yuno’s ears burn as the anticipation began to set in. “You ready?”

“No.” Yuno peeped up while Liebe shouted “READY!”

“Not you, Liebe!” Asta held up a hand, stopping his demon. “Yuno, are you ready?”

“Hang on, let me up a second…” Yuno squirmed some until he was on his back, wiggling a hand free to wipe at his mouth with his hand. “My face hurts from lying like that. Okay..” He tried for a firm glare. “Ready.”

“Oh ho ho, I like him!” Liebe grinned as he readjusted, wiggling his fingers high. “Now I can do it?”

At one last look for reassurance from his friend, Asta nodded. “Go for it, my tickle demon!”

“Yeeee!” Liebe cheered before grabbing onto Yuno’s sides, worming his fingers into his ribs. At first, the brunette was wincing, his jaw gritted and brows furrowed. Asta waved down the other once more.

“Lighten up, Liebe. Gentle.”

“Oooo!” Liebe nodded, doing so, changing his deep burrows for a more gentle tap. The change was almost immediate- Yuno’s pained expression faded for one Asta was familiar with, grabbing onto the demon’s wrists as he tried flattening out his mouth. The classic stubborn Yuno look!

Not today! Asta decided to give Liebe his next lesson in tickling Yuno.

“Oo, what’s this? Does it tickle? Huh?” Asta cooed, daring to wiggle a few fingers overhead, worsening his friend’s defenses. “Is the big bad demon getting at your ribs? Is he? Huh? You gotta tease him too, it really works on him!”

“Huh? Okay! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

“Yeah, like that!”

Yuno didn’t dare open his mouth- lest he lose control and start laughing. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned to look the other way, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the sight of those dastardly fingers. He should have known better- Asta wasn’t one for empty threats.

“AH!” He squeaked when he felt them touch down on his neck, tapping against his pulsepoint that had him scrunching up and giggly. “A-Ahahahahhahahsta! Aheahahha shohohohohohot! Gheahhahhaha dohohohon’t!”

“He’s laughing! Geehehehehehe! That’s right, human! Laugh before me!” Liebe cried dramatically, doubling his efforts as he walked his claws up Yuno’s ribs. The effect was working- Yuno went from barely grasping his wrists to trying and failing to catch them completely, squirming beneath their grasps as he laughed and wheezed. “He’s so sensitive! Hehehe!”

“Right?, That’s our Yuno- he acts all cool but really, he’s super ticklish!”  Asta giggled as he wormed his hands beneath Yuno, gently prodding into his armpits. Yuno shot his arms back so fast he bruised his elbow on the concrete, arching as he let out a whimpery laugh. “Careful! Don’t hurt yourself!”

“Aheahhahaha! Dihihihidn’t feheheheel a thihihihng! Gheahhaha- AHHA NOHOHO!” He cried again when Asta wormed his fingers into his neck once more, making him scrunch and curl up. “Ahehahahahahahhah dohohoohohn’t! Nohohohot thehehehehhere!”

“Why do you move? He laughs more there?” Liebe mused as he watched Asta giggle and move somewhere else again, prodding at his upper ribs and forcing Yuno to thrash. 

“Cause he asked! Plus, I don’t wanna tire him out too quickly. It’s not as fun.” Asta kept up his playful attack, relishing in Yuno’s giggle fits. “That’s important, you know? Gotta make sure he’s still having fun!”

“Fun…” When was the last time Liebe heard that? He tapped his claws into Yuno’s sides like how Asta curled his own, noting the different ways he reacted. “What does this do?”

Yuno let out a startled gasp before bursting into fresh giggles, his feet kicking helplessly against the pavement behind Liebe as he swatted at their hands. “Gehahahhahaahha! Cohoohohhome ohohohohohn!! Whihihihihy is he gohohohohod at thihiihihs?”

“Beginner’s luck?” Asta snickered, a bit amazed. He didn’t think  Liebe would pick up the whole tickling thing so fast. Liebe was like a fish to water, cooing at Yuno the way Asta did earlier and furthering the rosy blush on the wind mage's face hidden behind his hands.

Despite all this, he could tell Yuno was having fun. He wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard as he could, nor did he beg for mercy. If anything, he  was letting Liebe have his fun, just as he did with their brothers and sisters back home.

It made him smile. Yuno had accepted Liebe.

Eventually though, all good things must come to a close.

“Ahehahahah! Ohoohokay, oohohohkay- I’m dohohohone!” Yuno called out, reaching out and grabbing Liebe’s wrists. “Stahhahap!”

“Liebe.” Asta called out, gaining the demon’s attention. He cut a line through the air, signaling him to end. With some reluctance, the demon backed off, pulling his hands back as he looked down at the giggly mage. “Good.”

Yuno was a mess of laughter, cheeks pink and hair more askew than normal. He took slow giggly breaths as he pulled both arms across his face, hiding in his sleeves. Carefully, the demon climbed off of him, sitting beside Asta as they watched slowly recover. 

“Ugh..ehehe..Iihih’m stahahrting to feeehehel it now.” Yuno gestured to his bruised elbow, wincing some when he touched it.

Asta snorted, ruffling Yuno’s hair. “Sorry about that. Want me to kiss it better?”

“No way- you’d infect it.” Yuno swatted at him playfully, shaking his head. “It’d get all bulgy like yours- then I’d have one normal arm and one tree trunk one.” Asta laughed harder at the visual, making Yuno grin. Eventually, he sat up, facing the other two as he watched Asta cough and choke through his mirth. “Did you have fun?”

Liebe figured he was asking Asta, but when he saw Yuno’s eyes on him, he put on his best grin. “Of course I did! Humans are so sensitive! Hehehehehehe. I should tickle you more often!”

“Heh, yeah…Liebe,  did you know Asta’s ticklish?” That cut off Asta’s giggle fits, making him pause with wide eyes.

“He is?” The demon’s eyes got big with wonder, his attention snapping to the other and making Asta squirm. “Is he just as bad as you? Worse? Tell me!”

“I could.” Yuno smiled, a devious glint in his grin. “Or I could show you instead?”

To be continued in Nym's part!

Thanks for reading!

[thrawns-babygirl]

The Gallery (Thrawn x F!Reader 18+)

SO! A few things before we get started.

I know nothing about art. I tried my best to make this seem somewhat believable but I'm not an artist, nor will I ever be.

The "dates" I used were in the form of the 'Coruscant Reckoning Calendar' or C.R.C since the battle of Yavin hasn't happened yet and I hate BBY and ABY as in universe measures of time. However they aren't real dates I just threw random numbers into the format and hoped it looked semi believable

I am aware this is really derivative and I'm sorry in advance lmao

This is my first time writing Thrawn, and while I read copious amounts of Thrawn fanfic, I'm still nervous about how I write him so constrictive criticism is encouraged.

I hope y'all enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Been over a month since i wrote anything and it shows.

Rating: E (18+) Word Count: 3800+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV, Oral (F receiving), the tiniest breeding kink if you squint and tilt your head sideways, Art

Masterlist

You looked around the halls of the Imperial Palace and sighed. These galas were boring, atrociously so. But alas, if you wished to maintain funding for your gallery you had to at least make an appearance, rub elbows with the Imperial elite, sweet talk some moderately intoxicated senator or delegate into agreeing that your program was in fact not a waste of credits, and was actually something that the Empire should foster. A civilization without the arts was barely a civilization at all. You sigh, swirling the obnoxiously expensive drink you have in your hand as you stare up at a large canvas painting on the walls of the hall.

Pre Republic era, oil on canvas, looks to be-

“Coruscanti in origin, an interesting blend of ancient human styles native to the planet with a Duros influence, I’d date it around 3591.39.5, what do you think?” as smooth, calculated voice drawls from beside you.

You hum in thought, as you continue looking up at the artwork. “Perhaps earlier, the dot work is absolutely indicative of Duros influences, maybe even around 2280.124.43, when Duros traders started using hyperspace routes to explore the galaxy and foster trade” you turn to face the mystery man and stiffen as you notice the crisp white uniform of a Grand Admiral, but perhaps even more intriguing was his cerulean blue skin, and more intriguing than that, his red eyes that glow softly.

Without taking his eyes off the painting he continues “an interesting theory, however, I would date it after that. The artist was obviously human, their style indicating that they grew up around humans, the brushwork is similar to most works of that period, however the Duros influence would indicate it would have been some time after Humans had made contact with other races. Humans of that era were exceptionally isolationist, their artwork reflects that, this piece shows of an artist who is comfortable with outsiders enough to incorporate them into their medium” the man takes another sip of his drink before turning to you, fixing you with those enchanting eyes “what do you think?”

You’re taken aback, this man, this Grand Admiral, knows what he’s talking about, in fact he may even know more than you about the topic, you scramble to think of something, anything to say. Your face heats up as you think back on human art and history from that era and realise, he’s right. You take a sip of your drink to steel your nerves, warmth flooding your cheeks that you hope he doesn’t notice as you turn back to the painting.

“I think you might be right; I forget about how isolationist humans were back then; it would have taken a long time before they would have taken on facets of other species art in their own” you say thoughtfully as you look up at the painting. It really was a beautiful piece of art. You look back at the stranger to find him also gazing up at the painting with a thoughtful look on his face. Perhaps this art enthusiast of a Grand Admiral was the person you were looking for this whole time? Steeling yourself again you turn and give him your name.

“I curate the Royal Imperial Gallery here on Coruscant, a pleasure to make your acquaintance” You incline your head respectfully as he turns to face you again.

“Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo, however you may call me Thrawn, and I am aware of who you are” Thrawn takes another sip of his drink as he turns his gaze back up to the painting. You eye him curiously as he drinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows and turns back to you.

“You do?” your tone slightly more accusatory than you wanted it to be, Imperial Grand Admirals tended to be the types of people who rallied against your requests for more funding, claiming that the money could be better spent on the Imperial Navy or the Stormtrooper Corps.

Thrawn’s mouth quirks slightly, as if he were attempting to stifle a smile before he speaks again, his voice low “Of course, I am a regular at your institution, I also appreciate your holo galleries so that I may appreciate new instillations while I am away on long campaigns. It is obviously, a crude imitation of having the original piece in front of me, but I will make do with what I can” he eyes you seriously. “I especially appreciated your most recent display of Pantoran tapestries. Pantora is a hub of so many different species and cultures, their art always provides an interesting challenge to see what visiting species influenced what pieces”.

You stare at him wide eyed as he speaks, this man, this Grand Admiral, was an art enjoyer, no an art enthusiast. Perhaps this meeting was destined, perhaps he was the one who would help you retain funding for your gallery before it was all syphoned off and spent on warfare. You open your mouth to speak but it’s like he could read your mind. “I have already spoken with the Emperor, he agrees with me that maintaining the fine arts is important for any society. Your funding is secure” he turns back towards the painting and takes another sip of his drink.

He spoke to the Emperor himself? And the Emperor himself agreed to maintain your funding? Your head was spinning. This is not at all what you expected when you came here tonight, you were expecting to have to plead your case to stuffy senators and businesspeople for them to even consider the possibility that your gallery was worth it. You shake your head as you realise you’ve been staring at him in stunned silence for longer than what would be considered polite. “I… Thank you Grand Admiral. That is… that is wonderful news” you fight to keep the emotions out of your voice, finishing your drink quickly “I don’t know how I can repay you” his lip quirks again in that almost smile before he too finishes his drink.

“No thanks is necessary, and please call me Thrawn, although I would love to hear about what new instillations you are planning for the gallery in the coming months, I have some time planetside and would be remiss to not attend a new display should you be preparing anything exciting” he waves over a serving droid as he talks and takes two more glasses of the overly expensive amber liquid, offering you one which you politely accept before he takes a sip of his.

And just like that, the hours melt away as you walk with Thrawn around the hall, speaking quietly to one another about the intricacies of the art hanging on the walls, from paintings to tapestries to the small statues lining the hall, Thrawn had something to say about all of it. For a military man, he was very, very well educated.

And very, very handsome.

You shake your head as you finish your drink, maybe you have had one too many glasses of Chandrillan Sweet Wine you think to yourself as Thrawn continues speaking about the techniques used to weave a particularly intricate tapestry the two of you were standing in front of. You wanted to listen to him, you really did, but watching the way his lips wrapped themselves around the words he was speaking combined with the melodic sound of his voice had your mind wandering to places that could be considered vastly unprofessional.

As if sensing your fleeting attention to what he was saying he turns to face you, raising a single eyebrow as his lips quirked once again in a ghost of a smile. “Apologies my lady, I do tend to get ahead of myself when discussing art, if you wish to take your leave I will not be offended” you falter slightly because no, you don’t want to leave, you could spend forever listening to his peculiar accent and you rack your brain for something that would keep him in your presence. So, you decide to take a small risk.

“No Thrawn, not at all, in fact I was just wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for a small excursion to the gallery. I could give you a sneak peek of the next exhibition we will be opening in the coming weeks, provided traditional Rodian woodwork is a topic you would be interested in?” you say hopefully, willing the heat away from your cheeks as you place your empty glass on a passing serving droid.

He smiles this time, not just a slight movement of his lips, but a genuine smile that has your heart beating slightly faster and your face burning. He too places his glass on a passing droid and gestures with his hand towards the door. “Lead the way”

The speeder ride towards the gallery is quiet, the lights of Coruscant illuminating the cab as the pilot droid takes you both towards the gallery. You shift in your seat, gazing at his profile from the corner of your eye. His long nose and pronounced cheek bones illuminated by the slight glow of his eyes. You wish you could think of something to say as you fiddle with the hem of your dress, but he doesn’t seem to mind the silence, in fact he seems to be the type that enjoys comfortable silence over inane small talk, so you keep your lips sealed, willing yourself to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl as the cab stops in front of the gallery.

The gallery is dark, quiet, giving it an almost eerie quality as you walk through the halls, you unlock the door to your office and step to the side to allow Thrawn through, turning on the lights to reveal a small room, a moderately sized desk with a few shelves and a window that looks over the city.

“We haven’t gotten all the pieces yet, so this is only a taste of the style of art we will be displaying soon” you unlock another door that leads to a storeroom, pulling on some gloves, passing him a pair and grabbing a few of the intricately carved wooden sculptures to show the Grand Admiral. He takes them off you and studies them closely, his intense eyes scanning over every detail of the wood before moving over to another sculpture, then another. At the last sculpture he pauses, studying it even more intently than the others before looking up at you. “Do you know the importance of this piece?” he inquires as he holds the small wooden figure towards you.

You take it off him, studying it closely, noting the ridges and bumps. Unfortunately, Rodian art and wood carvings in particular have never really been your area of expertise, although you have a feeling that you’re about to learn. “Unfortunately, Thrawn I am not very well versed in Rodian woodworking, I have a few on staff that would know more than I do” you place the statuettes back into the storeroom and lock the door before turning back to him only to find him looking at you intently.

“That particular sculpture is known as a ‘Prwiss’ it was used as part of a fertility ritual on Rodia centuries passed. The statue would be placed near the bed of the couple attempting to conceive as they partook in intercourse in order to increase the likelihood of fertilization” he explains evenly.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. ‘Definitely too much wine’ you think to yourself. The words ‘intercourse’ and ‘fertilization’ shouldn’t have such a visceral effect on you. All you can think of is having such a statue over your own bed as Thrawn runs his large hands all over your body, as he thrusts in and out-

“Do you know of my species?” Thrawn asks suddenly. You shake your head, mouth dry as you respond “No… I don’t” his shoulders rise and fall slightly, something that could potentially indicate a chuckle from the stoic man.

“I am Chiss” he says slowly walking towards you “and being Chiss has many benefits” he continues approaching you, in any other context, you could almost compare his slow steps to a predator stalking its prey.

“My eyes for example, I am able to see things that humans cannot. Heat for example” he says as he stops directly in front of you. You blush again, a fact made worse now knowing he’s been able to see your blushing so clearly the entire night the two of you have been together. You swallow, not trusting your voice as he stares you down. You take an unconscious step backwards, Thrawn following you until the backs of your legs meet the solid material of your desk.

“At first I simply thought that you were flushed from the alcohol but… now I have come to a different conclusion” he leans his face closer to yours, you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he holds his lips above yours. A moment for you to back away should you not wish him to go further.

You stare into his bright eyes as your face warms further and heat pools between your legs. Would he be able to see that beneath the layers of your dress? Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as he places his lips over yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses you against your desk. You meet his lips in a passionate kiss, the heat from the night reaching a boiling point as he removes his gloves and places his hands on your hips, following his lead you do the same before tangling your hands in his soft hair.

After what feels like an eternity he pulls back, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss and a faint dusting of purple along his sharp cheekbones. He presses you further against your desk and you get the hint, moving some small items out of the way before sitting on the desk.

Thrawn attacks your lips again, a hunger present behind his movements as he situates himself between your legs, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he begins kissing along your jaw, down your neck. You gasp as you feel him suck a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone, you tug at the soft strands of his hair eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest as he moves his hips against your core. You can feel a definite hardness in the front of his pristine while uniform pants as he moves his body against yours, dragging small sounds of pleasure out of you.

His hands begin moving all over your body, running up your sides around to your back where he begins unfastening your dress, his movements pausing for a moment as he looks at you. You answer his unspoken question with another fiery kiss as his hands work methodically behind you to unfasten your dress, letting it pool on the desk as he moves over towards your breasts. His long fingers tweaking and pinching at your nipples through the thin material of your bra as his other hand moves down your side to help totally remove the dress from you.

He pulls the dress over your head, pausing to haphazardly fold it and place it on your desk before his hands are all over you again. One runs along your thigh while the other expertly unclasps your bra, he pulls the fabric away from your body before moving his lips to your jaw and neck again. You move your hands to his hair again as he kisses down your neck towards your chest.

“Watching the blush crawl up your skin” he mumbles against your neck, voice husky “is truly the most beautiful thing in this entire gallery” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking, rolling the nub around his mouth, his tongue lathing over it. His tongue has an odd texture to it, you note, as he shifts his focus to your other breast, and you can’t help but wonder what that tongue would feel like against your clit. You arch into his touch as he kisses along your chest, lightly biting into the soft flesh, leaving dark marks against your skin as he slowly begins moving to his knees, kissing down your body as he goes, pausing at the fabric of your panties and placing a long passionate kiss on the damp fabric before he pulls the delicate material to the side and sinks his tongue into your cunt.

You moan, throwing your head back in bliss as he eats you like a man starved, lapping at your juices with fervour, your hands finding their way back into his soft hair as his tongue works magic against you. He alternates between rolling his tongue around your clit and shoving it as deep inside you as the muscle will go, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You tug on his hair causing him to groan into you, the vibrations making your walls clench as he focuses extra attention on your clit and suddenly the wave of pleasure crests as you climax, your eyes screwed shut and hips moving on their own accord as you all but ride his face through the precipice of your orgasm.

As you come down you open your eyes and look down at him, noting the sound of flesh on flesh and the movement of his arm another white-hot wave of arousal runs down your spine as you realise, he’s stroking himself.

A Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy, on his knees in your office, touching himself while pleasing you with his mouth. The thought alone is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

His glowing red eyes look up at you, and he slowly stands from his position kneeling on the floor. You hold your breath as he rises, trying not to look too eager to get a look at what is between his legs. Do Chiss look like humans? Is he totally alien down there? Your eyes widen as your question is answered, despite the colour and a few, quite pleasurable looking, ridges, he looks remarkably human. Remarkably human and remarkably large.

The vision of the stoic Grand Admiral, still dressed in his white uniform with his trousers open and his rock-hard length on display is enough to make you lick your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing as fresh wave of arousal washes over you.

He takes himself in his hand, stroking himself a few times, placing the blunt head of his cock against your wet entrance before pausing. “A moment” he says as he looks around your office, retrieving your key card from the desk next to you before walking over to the storeroom and taking out the statue he had spoken about before and placing it on the desk next to you before taking his place between your legs at your entrance again.

He places both hands on your hips as he lines himself up with your slick cunt and slowly pushes inside of you. His uniformed chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain his tenuous control over himself. The feeling of his girth stretching you open has you gritting your teeth, and screwing your eyes shut. Each ridge of his cock rubbing perfectly against every nerve making you see stars.

You’re both panting as he bottoms out, a low rumbling groan coming from deep in his chest as the feeling of your walls choking his length has him gritting his teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, even deeper.

He lets out a hiss as he begins moving his hips, you resist the urge to close your eyes at the pleasure, wanting to watch each reaction you could earn from the usually pristine grand admiral. Watching the way his jaw clenches, the muscles around his neck tensing, the way his nostrils flare as he struggles to maintain his composure is like a drug to you.

You moan as his thrusts begin to become more forceful, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the confines of your office. He leans over your body, his lips finding yours again as his hips move with more purpose, harder and faster, the ridges of his girth causing you to cry out, his mouth swallowing your sounds as his pace continues to get more intense, more passionate.

He brings one of his hands down in between your bodies, his long, skilled fingers expertly finding your clit, drawing tight circles over it as he pounds relentlessly into you. The sensations becoming too much too quickly as another orgasm begins building in your core, your muscles tensing around him as your walls flutter and tighten, forcing his mouth to part from yours as he lets out a low moan of your name.

Hearing his voice, full of hunger and desperation moaning your name is what does it for you, pleasure cascades through your body as you wrap your arms around his back to ground you, the course texture of his uniform heightening the experience as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rips a harsh moan of his name from your lips.

His pace becomes even more forceful, his hips slamming almost painfully against yours as he chases his own high. His mouth finds your neck again, biting down as you feel his muscles tense, letting out a long low groan against your neck as he finishes inside you. You feel each throb and pulse of his cock as he fills you, his hips moving in short thrusts as he rides out his own high, his breathing ragged.

You both stay there, panting, bodies entwined as you come down. He gives you a long, passionate kiss before extracting himself, pulling out slowly, he looks down at your cunt, his cum slowly beginning to leak out of you and his mouth quirks again, into that ghost of a smile, like he’s proud of himself, before he moves your panties back into place and begins to straighten himself out.

You have no idea what to say as he tucks himself away and smooths his hair, after a short time, he looks immaculate yet again, barely a hair out of place, nor a crease on his uniform, meanwhile you look like well fucked mess, hickeys and love bites litter your neck and chest as you move off your desk on unstable legs to grab your bra and dress, you pause as you see the small statue, the ‘Pwriss’ as Thrawn had called it sitting on your desk. You blush as you move to put it away in the storeroom again.

Thrawn is standing, back straight as he looks at you from across your office, hands clasped behind his back. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the artwork the gallery has to offer” he inclines his head politely “I’m glad the sculptures were to your liking” you smile at him as you redress.

“Oh yes, I suppose the sculptures were lovely too”.  

Not tagging my usual Crosswhore taglist because IDK how many of you are interested in Thrawn, but I'm tagging some people I think might be interested. Let me know if you don't want me to tag you in the future.

@khapikat222 @vibratingbonesbis@al-astakbar

[luvfy0dor]

“Kissing in Cars and Downtown Bars...♡” Dazai Osamu x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; References to BSD Wan, implications of future driving while intoxicated but it doesn't actually happen (still don't do that shit)

Description; Dazai brings you to Bar Lupin and shares memories with you

A/n; chat don't let me flop I love y'all ♡ Also, i googled the menu for the actual bar and used drinks from that for reader

ೃ⁀➷

Hearing Dazai speak was like music to your ears, you loved how smooth his voice was and hearing him talk about his favorite things. He talked to you a whole lot about his port mafia days and Bar Lupin, sharing stories of him, Oda, and Ango getting drinks there. He still likes to visit every now and again, and he thought it would be nice to share such a significant place with you. So, he helped you put on your jacket and out the door you two went, hopping in his car and speeding through the dark evening towards Bar Lupin.

Dazai parks the car in a nearby lot, giving the two of you the chance to walk down the street for a little while. Your fingers are interlocked as you lean into him, chit chatting as the sound of your footsteps and voices echo throughout the dim alleyway. You can see the sign illuminating the side of the building in the distance, making you smile with excitement. Dazai has always spoken so highly of it, so you were rather giddy to get the experience. He opened the door, holding it and allowing you in first. It gives you a solid second to take in the atmosphere of the Bar Lupin; letting you appreciate the way the lights cast a soft glow over the wood of the bar and stools. The way the glasses shimmer as they sit upside down also catches your eye. Dazais hand lands on your waist as the bartender flashes you both a welcoming smile and greets you.

"Ah, Dazai! It's been a while, hasn't it?" The bartender says. Dazai nods and escorts you to a barstool. "It sure has! How have you been?" He makes small talk with the older man while you both situate. Your eyes scan over the drink options, finding the Botanist-Martini rather intriguing. You hold Dazais hand as he chit chats briefly. "Well then, the usual for you, Dazai?" He nods, turning to you. "Have you decided what you want?" He asks you, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip. "Yeah, can I get the Botanist-Martini?" The bartender nods and gets to making the drink for you.

"Oda and Ango used to come here with me all the time. I remember we once made New Year's cards here." He reminisces, smiling at the memory. "I messed up a couple of my cards. I remember I ran out of space on one so I just sent that one to the boss at the time." He says as the bartender hands him his glass of whiskey. You chuckle quietly, nodding as he told you the story. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Was it a tradition?" You ask, watching the suited man making your martini. He shakes his head, swirling the drink in the glass. "No, I just decided I wanted to make them one day." He thinks for a moment. "Surely you've made some New Years cards before." He says, a hint of questioning in his voice before he nods. "Yeah, I have. I always want to but i tend to forget." You tell him as your drink is placed in front of you.

His finger brushes over the rim of his glass as he hums. "Well maybe we should make some together." He flashes a small grin at you. "That would be fun, wouldn't it?" You nod, sipping on the drink delightfully, surprised by the quality and taste of the liquid. "It would." You smile and set the glass down, the clinking sound echoing through the bar as it collides gently with the wooden countertop. "Anything is immediately funner when I get to do it with you." You happily say, your eyes averting from his to the bartenders body, his back to you. "Oh yeah?" He says teasingly. You nod and briefly pull him in for a peck on the lips. His lips curl upwards as he returns it, grabbing your face and pulling you in further before you can pull away, making you quietly gasp in surprise. He does let you go after a second, making sure the bartender doesn't catch your acts of pda. You can't help but feel your cheeks burn up a little with slight giddyness as your thoughts become flooded by the event.

And the memory lingers in the back of your mind as you pay the bill and thank the bartender, and even as you're walking out the door. Dazais hand is warm in yours while the two of you still down the side walk again, heading to the familiar shiny, black car. The two of you share giggles and playful jokes as you get closer to the automobile. He opened the passenger side door for you and closed it once you were in, speed walking around the front of the car to the driver's side

A/n; Folklore themes are heavy recently bc I just got my folklore piano book don't play 🙏

[campingwiththecharmings]

Hush (2)

PART 1

AN: Y'all, I have a Poe Problem™️ 😭lol @my-secret-shame, inspiration struck! (it actually struck twice tbh, I had two ideas for this and couldn't choose so you all get a part 3 lol).

(Un-beta’d)

PWP in which you try to teach Poe how to be quiet during sex.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,542 (yeah, this is twice as long as the first one. what of it?) Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: oral sex, p in v, kissing, cursing, slight creampie (please let me know if i missed anything) AO3

——————

Poe Dameron’s never been one to stay quiet, but that’s especially true during sex. You don’t mind, you love it actually, but after the last time, you hadn’t been able to stop teasing him about it.  

“You gonna teach me, sweetheart?”  

Turns out he’d been serious. 

“You sure you still wanna do this, Poe?” 

“Hell yeah. Get up here, baby.” 

You sniff a laugh, hooking your fingers in your underwear. You pull them down and let them fall, stepping out of them and toward the bed. Your bra follows, making a dull thump as you throw it to the floor. Poe’s gaze slides appreciatively down your body once you bare yourself to him, his tongue sweeping across his plush lips. Arousal pools in your belly at the action, chewing your lip as you crawl up the bed. 

He hums when you kiss him, hands skating over your bare skin and coming to rest on your hips. When you slip your tongue in his mouth, he moans, pulling you flush against him. You chuckle, leaning back a little to meet his eyes. 

“If this is an indication of how well you’re going to do once we actually start, maybe you should just give up now.” 

He clicks his tongue and leans in, his mouth hovering. “Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart.” 

You press a quick kiss to his lips and pull back, chuckling when he tries to follow you. “Easy, tiger.” 

“Get on up here then,” he breathes, squeezing your backside. 

He lays down fully on the bed, a small smile on his lips as he pumps his eyebrows at you expectantly. Your skin heats a little as you crawl up his body, moving so your knees are positioned on either side of his head. His hands grasp your thighs as you settle yourself over him, his fingers idly caressing your skin. 

“Still sure you wanna do this?” you ask, looking down to meet his eyes. 

He smiles, eyes already black with arousal. “Very sure.” 

“Okay,” you chuckle breathily, grasping the headboard with both hands. “Remember: you make any noise, we stop.” 

The awkward salute he does from between your legs makes you snort, distracting you from the nerves swirling in your belly. You know there’s no reason to be nervous, he’s had his head between your thighs more times than you can count at this point, but it feels different for some reason this time.  

“Whenever you’re ready, Commander.” 

He breathes in slowly through his nose, wetting his lips as he gazes greedily at your cunt. After a moment, there’s a gentle pressure on your hips as he pulls you down to his mouth. You inhale sharply at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, your hips jerking a little. 

Almost immediately, he moans, but stops himself about halfway through. Regretfully, you lift yourself off him with a huff, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. 

“Really?” 

He shrugs awkwardly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Sorry. False start.” 

You snort, shaking your head as you let him lower you back over his mouth. He swipes his tongue through your folds again, this time slower, the warm muscle seeking every spot he knows drives you crazy. He teases you with the tip, softly flicking at your clit, and swirling around the edges of your entrance. You groan, your muscles relaxing a little as you arch your back. The pleasure builds quickly and soon you're grinding yourself against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he laps at your hole with his tongue. You gasp, his fingertips digging into your hips, and you smile a little, knowing just how much he probably wants to moan and groan against your pussy right about now.  

When he covers your clit with his lips and sucks, you gasp, throwing your head back, your fingers clenching on the headboard. You grind harder against his mouth, a shiver racing through your body as you near your peak. 

“Fuck,” you whine, chewing your bottom lip as the pleasure twists in your gut. “Don’t stop, Poe. Please. I’m so close.” 

His fingers clench on your hips at your words, and you know he’s struggling to contain himself. He loves when you’re vocal, loves when you whine for him, when you’re desperate for him. Clit still between his lips, he flicks at it lightly with his tongue. You whimper, the tension coiling in your gut, your thighs trembling on either side of his head. His hands are like a vice on your hips, fingers digging into your skin and another shiver of pleasure runs through you at the thought that he’ll probably leave a few bruises behind.  

One more flick has you coming with a choked moan, your fingernails digging into the headboard, the walls of your cunt clenching and fluttering around nothing. His lips are still wrapped around your clit, his tongue gently prodding it, prolonging your pleasure, making you shake a little at the intensity of it.  

When you become too sensitive, he releases you, sliding down the bed and out from under you. Releasing the headboard, you slump forward against the pillows with a sigh. You feel the heat of him at your back, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hips. He presses a kiss against your spine, whispering your name. 

“How’d I do, baby?” he asks softly, pressing another kiss into your shoulder blade. 

You scoff into the pillows and feel his lips curl into a smile as he chuckles against your skin. 

“I always was a fast learner,” he gloats, mouthing at the curve of your shoulder, his hands ghosting up your sides. 

You pull your face from the pillows long enough to grunt and say, “Humble as usual, I see.” 

He chuckles again, and the sound is husky as he nips at your ear. “So, when can I claim my reward, Teach?” 

You snort, pushing your ass back against him and eliciting a groan. His hands palm your hips again, lips dragging along your neck.  

“Go ahead, flyboy,” you breathe, breath catching when he nips at your skin. “You did good for your first lesson.” 

He hums as he sucks a mark into your skin, his hand reaching forward to palm your breast. “Sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You moan softly, nodding as you arch into his touch, one of your hands winding behind you and delving into his thick hair.  

Not one to be told twice, he takes himself in his hand and slowly enters you from behind. His moan is choked as you clench around him, his face buried against the back of your neck. You whine as you adjust to his size, your fingers tightening in his hair. When he starts to move, it’s a little sloppy, and he already sounds completely wrecked as he moans with almost every snap of his hips. He whispers in your ear about how good you feel, how he wishes he could stay inside you forever, groaning every time your tight cunt flutters around his hard length. It doesn’t take him long to come, already worked up from his time between your legs, but when he does, it’s hard and loud, his jaw slack as he spills his warmth into you with a moan.  

Poe leans heavily against you, trying to catch his breath, dragging his nose up your neck. He kisses you behind the ear and you sigh, your fingers still fisted in his hair. His softening cock is still buried inside you, and you clench around him, making him groan.  

“Can you give me another one?” he rasps, his fingers sinking between your legs and gently circling your clit. 

You whine, so sensitive, the pleasure was almost too intense. Poe gently churns his hips, brushing against your inner walls, his warm seed dribbling out a little with every move. He kisses the side of your neck as you lean back against him, your body quivering as he brings you higher and higher. Your orgasm is soft, but somehow still intense, flooding your body with a gentle tingling as Poe works you through it. You slump against him when it passes, your body exhausted.

He gives you a moment before he slips out of you, pulling you down to lay with him on the bed. His chest is pressed against your back, his arms wrapped around you loosely as you shift in his hold, snuggling down into the pillow beneath your head. Poe presses a kiss between your shoulder blades before burying his face there, his curls tickling your skin.

“So,” he says finally, his voice slow and syrupy as sleep begins to pull at him. “That was just my first lesson, huh?” 

You snort, closing your eyes and melting into him as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.  

“Because I really think I could benefit from another lesson,” he continues, smile evident in his voice as he softly kisses your neck. 

“Okay,” you hum, eyes and limbs heavy as you begin to drift off. “Let’s start practicing now.” 

He sniffs, tucking his nose beneath your ear as his drowsiness finally catches up with him. “You got it, sweetheart.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

A splash of Saz's background and a splash of worldbuilding

Shhh yes I am typing straight into a tumblr post again from my phone at that. Call it dedication. Call it laziness.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums @vacantgodling (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

The bear morpher huffed, taking the drink from Ian's hand. Knowing he was drunk enough to not hit her hand away in time. She took a sip from it and pushed past her nerves to ask the other three morphers nearby a question.

"How long have y'all fought?"

Julie laughed at Ian's quiet grumbling as he stumbled off to get another drink. They'd been camping in at Julie and Ian's quarters for awhile now it seemed. The crickets weren't chirping when they had first entered but were practically screaming now. Saz was sure they'd been drinking for a few hours now. But it was one of the few things they could all do together with little animosity.

The hagfish morpher answered first, "Fighting under the elder morphers? Since I had enough strength to throw a rock and make it hurt."

"I was pressured into it awhile ago." Ian responded with a sigh as he returned.

"I was basically drafted by the elder morphers. I didn't have a choice. So a couple years now I guess." Elliot said, quiet for the moment after losing over who'd control the music.

"I've been a wrestler for awhile. But none of the war tactics stuff under your belts." Saz stated.

Ian shrugged, "Wouldn't call it war tactics just yet. You didn't know about anything building and you lived with the humans."

That ripped a collective sound of aggravation from the hagfish and smaller deer at the thought. All this work and the shit was going unnoticed.

Julie tossed the pocket radio to Elliot, more like at Elliot, so he could change it, "Thought you were a smuggler?"

Saz grinned and nudged Elliot, "Aw so he did talk about me." She scratched at her scruff and scooched a little closer to Julie, "I was both. Smuggling people in and out got me my money."

Elliot chimed in now, "It's how I met her too."

Julie looked up at the bear morpher, "That how you made it into one of those human cities?"

Saz shook her head. Swirling the beverage in her hand before taking a long drink. The bear morpher tilted her head away from Julie, her locs following the motion.

"Adopted by some humans actually."

Ian and Julie's face both twisted. They'd heard horror stories from morphers about it for years. So many bullshit reasons. So much death. The occasional win, just for a kid to be shipped off as a lab rat. Or someone's living trophy. Hell the elder morphers had whispered about it amongst themselves when they thought no one could hear.

Elliot's eyebrows shot up, "You weren't born in a human city?"

Saz chuckled and shook her head, "Born on a morpher base in the outskirts. When there were still multiple I guess. Seems like it's just one or two now."

"And a human felt bad and plucked you from a dying parents arms," Julie stated.

"Or they were looking for children to toss to the labs and you just happened to fit. So they kidnapped you and made bank." Ian stated.

Saz simply shrugged, "Don't know. Just know they took a gamble because I could've shown a very obvious trait in five years." She gestured to the two deer morphers.

Elliot scratched at the antler that remained. Ian flicked his ears and looked away. Julie stretched and rested a hand on the two deer morpher's heads. Shoving Elliot when he chose a station she didn't like.

"Still impressive that you dodged animal control for so long," Julie said, a smile finding its way to her face.

Saz looked down at her nose and then to Julie, "I was just a kid the first time, I busted my face the second time, and got saved by you guys the third. Don't really know if that's a good job."

Julie sucked her teeth, bringing a knee to her chest, "What do you call making it out of a place that hate's monsters alive? Typical day?"

Saz finished off the drink in her hand in silence and rested her elbow on Julie's head. Careful not to rest all of her weight on the hagfish morpher.

"Typical day. Routine. Same thing, yeah." Saz said simply.

She rose to her feet with a groan. She needed a stronger drink.

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 18: Unrequited

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

Author's Note: this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D I can see all kinds of flaws and things I'd improve, but it's still a fun read, in my humble opinion! ;) I did have to edit a bit though -- the number of contractions in Tech's dialogue in the first edition had me shuddering! ;) And it's amazing to flesh it out a bit more now that I've seen all of TBB S2; this was written in the middle of it!

ALSO — a fantastic reader, @ghostperson69, suggested two songs that fit the vibe of this chapter: “Hole in the Earth” by Deftones and “Cloud Nine” by Evanescence. 😍

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Now," Terrik said, returning to Vel, "Perhaps you could use some fresh air?"

Her mind was racing, and she realized she hadn't actually thought through how to go about charming him once he actually did notice her. Thank the Maker, however, her prolonged silence worked in her favor, as Terrik took it as aloofness.

"I actually own the place," he said, in a thinly-veiled attempt to impress her. "There's a private garden balcony right outside where you can get a little break from all the riffraff that's been nipping at your heels all night." So he had noticed. She inclined her head a tiny bit, as if assessing him for a moment, before allowing a small smile.

"Lead the way," she said. He immediately offered her an arm, beckoning to a service droid as they strolled out of the dance hall and down a side hallway. Two large doors opened onto an elegantly curved patio that was filled with lush greenery. Trellises covered with creeping vines and purple flowers provided a living roof over the space, where exotic plants of all kinds reached toward the sky from their pots.

Vel inhaled deeply, calming herself with the rich array of floral scents. Terrik watched her chest rise with the breath, quickly averting his eyes when she looked back to him. A shiny black and gold service droid rolled out after them, carrying a spotless tray with an ornate glass bottle and two intricately carved glasses.

"Merenzane gold," Terrik said grandly as he poured a generous serving into each glass. He returned the bottle to the tray, took the two glasses, and offered one to Vel. She accepted it smoothly, alarm bells going off in her head, and watched as he waved the droid away. "Have you ever had it before?" he inquired casually.

"Of course," she said, swirling it in her glass but nearly spilling it out a side. She wasn't fooled by his question -- he was trying to determine if she came from money or was just trying to appear affluent. "But it's always a welcome sight. Although," she laughed lightly, "It often gets me into trouble."

"Well," he chuckled, "We'll have to make sure to keep an eye on you then, won't we?" He grinned at her, and she could tell it was the move that had melted an army of women before her. She needed to play it just right, leading him on just enough, and she gave a brief smile as she returned to her drink, taking a carefully small sip. She felt clumsy and tingly, and it took a disproportionate effort to keep her composure.

"There's plenty where that came from," Terrik continued, gesturing to her glass with his own and making a show of taking an exuberant swig. "No need to parse it out."

"I like to enjoy it," Vel said, cringing inwardly at the words that came to mind next, "You know, it's so smooth on the tongue. You miss out on that if you don't play with it a little bit first."

Terrik raised an eyebrow, although he was no stranger to this kind of talk. She was difficult to discern, however, and a refreshing change from the obvious, fawning sort he had become so accustomed to. He was never one to pass up an opportunity to connect with other well-to-do citizens, especially if the connection involved both money and pleasure.

She moved to the balcony railing and leaned on it gently, walking slowly to avoid stumbling and also to make her hips sway slightly more than usual. "So, what is it you do around here then?" she asked, putting a slight hint of boredom into her words as she waited for him to join her.

***

Tech lowered the macrobinoculars, laying on his stomach under the balcony railing, and turned to the team behind him. "They are engaged in conversation two floors below us," he reported, "But I am concerned about Vel's amount of inebriation. The attempt to blend in has resulted in more consumption than I believe she is accustomed to."

"This will be fun to watch then," Crosshair said silkily, leaning against the doorframe as he scanned the rest of the outside of the building.

"She'll be fine," Hunter said, "We just need to get into that lab."

"Why don't we just start trying doors?" Wrecker asked, sprawled on a lounge chair. "This is taking forever."

"We absolutely must avoid anything that could raise any suspicion," Tech responded, scooting back to peer over the edge at Vel and Jouren below them.

***

"A chemist! Really?" Terrik exclaimed, showing some genuine interest at Vel's made-up story. "And what did your father do in that field?"

"He worked for a refinery," Vel replied, finishing her glass of amber-colored trouble. "I used to love going to work with him and seeing all his potions. Especially the ones that would explode," she laughed, trying to balance the allure with just the right amount of brainlessness. It was becoming easier with each passing moment.

"Ah, a little evil scientist yourself, eh?" he teased, leaning closer to her now. "And what sort of nefarious plans did you concoct over the years?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," she answered lightly, tilting her head and demurely rubbing the back of her neck. He made no attempt to hide his gaze. "But I'm afraid I'd have to kill you if I told you my evil master plans." She had a quick internal argument over the ridiculousness of the whole situation, wishing she were still on the dance floor with Tech. 

"Well... we can't have that," Terrik crooned, placing a hand on her lower back. She stiffened for a moment before forcing herself to relax, tipping her chin up at him with an unfazed confidence. From the balcony above, Tech felt his stomach lurch, and his grip tightened on the macrobinoculars as he pondered the implications of his physical reaction.

"No?" she asked, forcing herself to lean into him gently, taking hold of his lapel with her fingers, "Well then what should we do for fun around here?"

"I have a few ideas," he mused, reveling in the feeling of having her on his hook. "But I have a feeling you won't be impressed by the usuals." He traced a finger along her jawline, coming to rest on her chin, "Why don't you come with me?"

He turned, beckoning toward the door, and walked beside her, leaving his hand on the small of her back, slightly lower than before. Tech watched them disappear inside the building, then rolled onto his back, springing to his feet at once.

"I do not like this, Hunter," he said emphatically. "There are simply too many extraneous variables to trust that this particular strategy is a secure endeavor."

"You just don't like someone getting their hands on your girlfriend," Crosshair needled.

"She is not my girlfriend," Tech countered, "But that Pantoran is exhibiting a dangerous level of manipulative behavior, and I find his intentions difficult to discern and equally unwise to trust."

"He's probably taking her to the lab right now," Hunter said. "As soon as she activates the marker, you can do your job and the rest of us can go get her if needed. It'll be fine. Just stick to the plan."

Tech resigned, feeling displeased and unsettled by the anxious protectiveness rising within. He pulled out his datapad, confirming the program was ready to go, and hung it on his belt at the ready. 

Tag List: @merkitty49 @vimse @arctrooper69 @dystopicjumpsuit @starrylothcat @ghostperson69 @dreamie411 @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @sinfulsalutations @ughhhhfoff @coraex @amorfista @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @littlefeatherr @sunshinesdaydream @thew0nderer2342 @dangraccoon @iceskategirl18 @skellymom

(If you're on my regular tag list, let me know if you want to be tagged in this; I didn't want to spam ya!)

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

[minhosimthings]

Hold Me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 2: Germanium and Gin

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: second part y'all there ya go have her all to yourself. Im feeling kinda DEMOTIVATED by I still wrote it cause hot girl thangs. (It's actually depressed girl things but whatever) I'm currently writing both the third chapter and fourth chapter and once I finish both of them I'll post the third one. Cool bye love y'all.

SERIES MASTERLIST

"Hey Y/N." You had never expected the evening to go like this. Most of the times whenever you attended things like these, your words would be completely ignored and undermined by your fellow heads of companies, because apparently a woman has no right to power. But this time, they actually listened, hanging on to each word you said, like a child handing onto her teddy bear. And now here you were, alone in the meeting room, with Jay sitting opposite you. Everyone else had gone already and you had told Jungwon to go and sort out the paperwork with Heeseung, whom you had successfully joined businesses with.

"Mr Park there must be a reason as to why you asked me to stay back so please spit it out." Jay looked at you with a sad smile. His mind was swirling around and he couldn't wrap it around his brain that his best friend was currently sitting in front of him.

"Y/N, stop calling me that." He said, to which you scoffed. "Why? Isn't that your name." He glared at you and you glared back. If he was going to act like he hadn't left your heart broken, then so be it. "Y/N why are you acting like this?" You rolled your eyes and got up from your seat, swiftly moving towards the vases stuck to the walls. You plucked out some of the flowers, arranged them and threw them into Jay's lap. Germanium, Hydrangeas and Yellow Carnations. "Figure it out Jay. Just fucking figure it out." You left the room, leaving Jay speechless and slightly heartbroken.

"Ma'am? You really shouldn't drink that much." You were sitting in the bar along with Jungwon, who seemed very concerned. "Jungwon, what's the meaning of life?" You asked him, to which he silently took your glass away from you. "Ma'am we really shoul-" "WHAT IS LOVE?" you shouted out, startling the few people at the bar. Jungwon sighed heavily and hid his face behind his hands. "Is she ok?" A man crept up behind Jungwon. "I honestly don't know- Mr Park!" Jay was standing behind Jungwon, hands in his pocket and a bouquet in his hand. He looked over at you, slumping your head over the bar table and smiled. "I assume you are her assistant? Well would you allow me to take her up to her room? Suite 186 I believe?" Jungwon stood shocked with his mouth open and could do nothing but nod at Jay, who had already went over to you, putting his hand over your shoulder. "Y/N? My yarrow? Come on we have to go now. You're too drunk." "Jay?" You gasped and clapped your hands, "JAY! I MISSED YOU WHEN DID YOU COME HERE?"Jay chuckled at your behaviour and grabbed you by the waist. "Come on my yarrow. Let's go. Jungwon wasn't it?' he turned to a blushing Jungwon, "Could you come up later and give her this bouquet in the morning? Oh and give her basil water when she wakes up. It usually gets her out of her hangovers." Jungwon stuttered a yes and took the bouquet, turning back to the bar while Jay gently guided you to the elevator.

"Y/N? Hey. Hey woah!" Jay caught you before you fell to your knees. "Jay-" you whispered, letting the alcohol get to your system. "Yeah I'm here. I'm here." Jay whispered back, gently lifting you up and letting you support yourself on his shoulder.

Jay's heartbeat increased at an alarming rate as he gently put you on your bed. You looked so pretty, he thought, more prettier than you looked when he had left and as he brushed your hair out of your face, he felt a pang of regret hitting him. Of course you would give germanium and yellow carnations. You hated him with every cell of your body and you wanted him to know that. "Don't remember any of this in the morning alright my yarrow?" Jay gently kissed your forehead and left, gently closing the door behind you, leaving you in troubled sleep.

"Jungwon what the fuck." You breathed out. You were sitting in the living room with Jungwon whose eyes were on the verge of tears. "Ma'am he told me to give these to you. Mr Park." "Oh my fucking god." You slumped onto the sofa. This was definetly not how you were expecting your Friday morning to go. In your mind, you would have been cheerfully sipping a margarita along with Jungwon, and going to cat cafes. But the universe never really bent to your will, so here you were with a baby blue bouquet of pink carnations and forget-me-nots wrapped in a silk bow.

"Jungwon do we have another meeting tonight?" You put your hand up to your head, running your fingers through your hair, and untangling all the knots made in it, due to you sleeping with unmade hair last night. Jungwon checked his phone, quickly tapping his fingers against the glass. "Uh no ma'am. But-" he looked up at you sympathetically, "Mr Park has requested a meeting with you. Privately." You groaned as you picked up the coffee cup in front of you and sipped it. Well atleast something was bringing you comfort right now. "Oh and Ma'am, he has another request." Jungwon said, his face filled with worry. "Just spit it out Jungwon, I'm already dead." "He wants you to bring him flowers."

You adjusted the collar of your coat as you made your way up to the bar. You had met Sunoo and Sunghoon on the way, who seemed to have been catching up after not seeing each other for a long time. They gave you sympathetic smiles as you told them what had happened and advised you to just get it over with. But as you stood in the elevator, with a bouquet in your hand, you had the feeling in your stomach that this was definetly not going to get over quickly.

You stepped out the elevator and entered the bear to find hundreds of men and women sitting and drinking merrily. The smell of whiskey and lime juice hit your nose as your eyes searched for Jay. You spotted him sitting near the bartender in what seemed to be the center of the bar. He was wearing a blue polo shirt with white pants which tightly fit his legs. You bit your lip, to remind yourself that you are supposed to be angry at him.

"Jay." You swiftly sat down beside him. He raised his eyes from his glass to look at you and smiled gently. "You actually came?" He chuckled and called for the bartender. "Yes I did because I assumed you wanted to talk buisness." You stated, "I'll have a Gin and Tonic please, no ice with a bowl of cherries on the side." You said to the bartender, who quickly disappeared to get your drink. "You've changed you know that?" Jay's eyes averted to you again, as he sipped his drink. Whiskey, you assumed, judging from the strong scent coming from the crystal glass. "Well was I not supposed to?", you scoffed, "Was I supposed to remain the same girl that I had been seventeen years ago?"

Jay's eyes faltered for a moment, before he cleared his throat and looked at you firmly again. "I want you to collaborate with my company." You choked on the cherry you were eating as you heard his words. Jay patted your back a few times and as you stopped coughing, you turned your face up to see him smirking. "Do I fluster you that bad, my yarrow?" "Don't you fucking call me that." You slammed your hand on the bar, catching the attention of some of the people around you, "Give me one reason as to why I should collaborate with you." Jay smirked again and took a sip of his whiskey, calling for another glass, this time, on the rocks. "Because my yarrow-" he leaned forward, "You're collaborating with Heeseung anyways. And his company is sponsored by mine. So why not just directly do buisness with me?" He took one of your cherries and ate it, showing off his jawline in the process, "It's much more efficient Y/N."

You gritted your teeth in order not to get angry. But before you could bite back-

"Is this man bothering you pretty?" You felt someone's hand touch your back. Naturally you flinched at the touch and looked back to see one of the pig headed men at the meeting. An ugly personality, you thought, both inside and out. He was definitely not less than forty eight. "Um- no. We are just-discussing." You told the man, turning back to Jay, who looked like he couldn't care less about what was happening. "Why darling?" The pig man chuckled and lowered his hand down to your waist, "Tell me if he's bothering you. I can get you out of here. Got a lot of dough you know?" "Thank you, but I am ok." You stated, trying to keep your demeanor calm, "Could you please not touch me?" The man obnoxiously laughed again and only lowered his hand further, making you shout 'Hey!'. "Oh come one don't play hard to get. You little whor-" He didn't get the opportunity to finish his sentence however, as Jay got up from his seat abruptly and held the man by his collar, holding him against the bar. All the attention of the room was on you now.

"Perhaps I should phrase it better for you." Jay growled, gritting his teeth tightly, "You. Won't. Lay. A. Fucking. Finger. On. Her." He let go of the pig man, who fumbled with his words for a bit, before quickly scantering off towards the exit stairs. Jay turned to you after everyone stopped looking at both of you, and instead of seeing a thankful face like the one he was expecting, he saw one of anger.

"I could have handled that myself Jay. Why the fuck did you have to cause a scene?" Jay raised his eyebrows at your words. "Not even a fucking thank you for that? Wow you really did change." You scoffed at the words coming out of his mouth. You picked up the bouquet you bought and threw it at him. "There you go." Your words were laced with sweet venom, "Take the fucking bouquet you asked for. And don't you talk to me again, except for in the meetings got it?" You finished your glass of cold gin quickly, and went away, biting your tongue as you got into the elevator. Columbine, daisy, hydrangea and orange lily, Jay counted as he looked at the bouquet properly. A rather ugly combination, he thought, not in physicality but in the meaning. He looked down at his whiskey, and swirled it, gulping it down in one swift motion before heading out the bar, a plan formed in his mind.

[obsidiancreates]

Weighed Against

Kremy smacks his mouth as they walk, making a clacking noise that irritates his own ears. "I don' know how much that banana helped my tongue. How'd I even bite it that bad?"

"Well, you have incredibly sharp teeth," Frost points out.

"Well, so do you. You're a tiger." Kremy drawls the last word, gesturing a little for emphasis.

"Mmm." Frost gives Kremy a measured look. "Are you alright?"

"What?"

"From the ride."

"Oh, yeah, that. I uh-" The lie dies in his throat, the pact gripping his voice. "Well, Gricko's thing sorta balanced it out." Okay, not untrue. It was so absurd that Kremy could almost get over the feelings from the other thing.

Almost.

"Oh." Frost nods. "Good, good. I'm very proud of you for your realizing Remy was an illusion, by the way. I... worried it'd be too much to overcome."

"Oh, yeah, well, Weasel helped me through it a little. I think they're gone now, though. Either some fey bullshit or they just hopped on out."

"Still, I uh, didn't realize it was that severe, this Remy situation. Was that shadow and exaggeration by the ride?"

Kremy grips the skull of his cane. "Not even a little."

"Geez. ... I'm a little surprised, actually."

"By what?"

"Well, it's just... I think I heard you cry a little after mine."

"... You might've. Why's that shockin'? I do care about y'all, you know."

"No, I know." Frost looks at Gricko ahead of them. "You still thinking of Hootsie when we were getting those magnets, even when Gricko can't remember her and we don't know if we'll... if we'll get her back..."

Frost shudders, and Kremy's throat feels tight.

"And Gideon might be-"

"Let's stop talkin' about this, hmm?" Kremy begins to walk a little faster, even his shadow overtaking him and bending in a way unnatural to the shadows around them as it tries to escape the way he's feeling. The fear is stuck, clinging to him like his debts. The visions of bones and the feeling of emptiness swirl through his head, harsh and crashing, invading every attempt to just breathe.

Frost speeds up too. "I didn't mean to... upset you." He looks at Kremy again. "I didn't realize it was such a fear for you."

"Well... I didn't either." Kremy straightens his suit lapels, just to give his shaking hands something to do.

"... Does it scare you more than Remy does?"

One soul, five souls. One life, five lives. One path of hedonism, gleeful sinning, smooth words and easy lies but a downfall that's worse the more one rises up. Five paths of friendship, fresh gumbo by a campfire, stupid jokes and stupider carnival attraction plans.

One loss.

Five losses.

An inability to lie.

"It scares me about the same," Kremy says slowly. "... I still think GaRue wins out."

He'd probably be last. No gold, no paying back the debt, a failed attempt at an impossible task, all his fault. Hootsie left discarded as a beast and little more and Gricko screaming and sobbing before he's killed, Frost drugged and limp so he can't use his abilities, Gideon trying to fight more chains after Kremy promised he'd keep him form ever being shackled again, a promise he never even made a contract for because when they first met he didn't care enough to genuinely guarantee it-

And Kremy left to watch and know, it's his debts that did this.

"... Yeah. He's... a lot worse."

"Mmm." Frost's thoughtful hum is the closing of the topic as Kremy clears his throat and strides on.

This carnival is a nightmare. But what Kremy saw in there, that very possible future of a world without his friends, his little family...

Is worse.

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

(This didn't turn out exactly as I'd hoped but it's been like a month since I wrote anything truly substantial so I'll give myself a pass. Anyway the point I was trying to get at is I liked how Kremy failed at overcoming Frost's fear and decided it means Kremy used to be afraid for himself, but now the idea of his friends in danger and hurt is even worse than the idea of him being in trouble.)

[rainytomorrows]

Mike Schmidt x reader | Midnight ministrations

Hey guys! Decided I'd get some fic out. Decided not to write the actual sex yet- but still some yummy interaction goin on. LMK if y'all want a second part, I might do that. For now, I need this out of the way so I can start my next Hunk fic. Enjoy!

(3,494 words) ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

Mike groans as he spins in his spinny office chair, occasionally checking the cameras to ensure no one breaks in.  The animatronics were out somewhere for repairs, and Abby was at a sleepover until late the next day, leaving just you two for the night with nothing to do.

You were hired pretty recently.  You’d been friends with Mike for a while now.  You’d met sometime in high school but didn’t talk much until a couple of years ago.  In the midst of the past year, both of you ran into some trouble finding work.  Of course, when he got his job and you eventually gave up on your own search, he got you a job there too.  You would do anything to thank him for getting you the job, even if it was a shitty one.  For now, you’d show appreciation by making his job easier.  You were currently going through some old boxes and cleaning up the office.

“Hey, could you help me out with the cameras?  They just kinda… went down.”  Mike turns to you in his chair, awaiting a response.  You put down a box and look over towards the cameras.  Lo and behold, the cameras were disconnected.  You’d check outside, but you were sure this had something to do with the actual cameras.  With your decent electronic experience, at least.  “Sure, lemme take a look” You waltz over to the desk, leaning on it beside him.  As you approached, Mike couldn’t help but notice you.  His gaze lingered often as you knew him, but you assumed he was just observant.  With how often afterward he would compliment something like your hair or your outfit.  He found it ‘refreshing’, apparently.  The smell of the fragrance you put on this morning wafts towards him, and you don’t notice his reaction until he clears his throat.  Snapping him back to reality.

“Hm.  Weird.” You monotonously state, swaying a little from where you’re leaning.  You lean more across the desk to get a better look, not unnoticed.  Mike cannot help but notice how close you are, a strange tingling arises in his stomach.  He clears his throat once again, you’d been friends for so long.  He had no reason to assume you felt the same.  It was best to swat such thoughts away.  “Hey uh, do you have any idea what the problem could be?  It’s not outside, is it?” He asks nervously, practically wiping sweat off his forehead at the situation before him.  “Not sure, I’m thinking it might be the wiring.  I’d have to check, though.”  You think out loud, still not a hint of emotion in the way you speak.  If he’d known how nervous he made you, despite your hard-earned cool exterior, you were sure he’d laugh at you.

If only you’d known, Mike was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate on the task at hand with how close you were to him.  He feels the heat rise within him, and he can’t get himself to look away from your lips.  “Yeah- maybe, maybe you’re right” He stutters out a little, you just chalk it up to being tired.  The both of you work late shifts, after all.  You take a look at him and back to the computer again.  “I’ll take a look, hold on,” You say as you get down under the desk.  Mike tries to nod and focus, but it's difficult.  You’re so close, that he can practically feel the heat radiation off of your skin.  His thoughts swirl in his head and he cannot get a hold of them.  Tonight was just a very hard night for him.  In more ways than one.  You meddle with various wires beneath the desk, meanwhile, Mike’s heart races as he watches you move under the desk.  The sight of you under him is intoxicating, his mind can’t help but wonder.  Imagining what it would be like to be closer to you.  Suddenly, the cameras switch back on and you finish up.  Getting up to look across the desk.  “Seems I’ve fixed it, all good?”  You ask, and he clears his throat for what feels like the thousandth time that night—begging himself to come up with a semblance of professionalism.  “Yeah, that should do it.  Thanks for your help” He tries to focus on the cameras, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

“Great,” You get up to move some more boxes, “I gotta throw these away, I’ll be back” leaving the room to get back to work.  Once you’re out, Mike takes a deep breath.  Trying to shake off the intense desire filling him, almost emanating off of him.  He focuses on the task at hand, moving papers around his desk.  The feeling never really leaves, but for now, he has it under control.  You spend time outside cleaning up the general area, moving across multiple cameras.  To Mike’s disarray, he can’t help but watch.  The sight of you working so diligently, strangely, only worsens his infatuation.  Through an old-timey speaker in the office, he occasionally offers help and suggestions from the safety of his office when he thinks it's appropriate.  Battling the oncoming voice cracks and slip-ups.

“Thanks, Mike” You reply again to the speaker, wondering if he’s actually doing anything in his office at this point or just staring through the cameras.  It frustrates you a little.  ‘Doesn’t he trust me?  Or can’t he at least keep me company out here if he’s going to be a backseat driver?’ you’d think.

Mike’s heart races watching you from the cameras.  He can’t believe just how much he wants you.  It’s disgusting, carnal even.  He shakes his head as if the lust would spill out of his ears if he tried hard enough.  Trying desperately to clear the thoughts out of his mind.  Eventually, he decides to leave his office and accompany you in the main room.  Just in time, you set down your final box, done with your work for the night.

“Oh, hey Mike,” You notice him nonchalantly, unbeknownst to the hell he’d been experiencing just being in your presence.  However, the same bell rang for you.  You didn’t want to be obvious about your feelings, you didn’t think feelings were returned.  Every moment he spent near you was purgatory.  His adorable smile, the awkward way he held himself.  There was no way, you didn’t even know his type.  He never talked about it.  He never talked about it because obviously- it was you, but you didn’t know that.  You fix your hair, looking towards him again.  “Finished with work already?” You ask, not sure what to say at the moment.

“Looks like you are too,” he notes, keeping strict eye contact with the floor.  “Just wanted to check and make sure you’re settling in well.  I know the night shift isn’t easy” He tries to make and keep eye contact, but he cannot.  All he can think about is how close he is to you.  The scent of you, the way your clothes fall on your body.  It’s too much to bear.  “...long day so far, huh?” He tries to make conversation, unsure what to do with all his pent-up feelings and the unidentified awkward feeling in the air.  “Yeah, been alright so far though” you reply, feeling all the same frustrations.  “I mean, you can always tell me if I’m forgetting something I gotta do?” you question in an unsure tone, now feeling as if you were doing something wrong.

“No yeah, you’re doing great.  Just, let me know if you need any help” He gulps something down mid-sentence, clawing and scratching at any semblance of composure.  He takes a deep breath, there's a clear hesitance in your body language and your face as he continues.  You’re unsure where the source of his awkwardness is coming from,  it makes you feel as if there is something wrong with how you are acting.  Did you do something?

“I just, I wanted to see you.  You’re always...  Appealing?”  You fight to figure out what he means by this.  Just- what?  You assume he means your fashion or something since he’s always been a little bad at compliments.  Pausing before finally formulating a response “...well that’s the first time my clothes have evoked that sort of reaction”.  You laugh a little, covering your mouth with your hand amid a giggle “I can always give you a makeover if you want”

He puts a hand in his hair and shakes his head, looking back up at the ceiling before finally saying it.  The thing that’s been on his (and your) mind for the past couple of years.

“No!  I, god, no, I love your fashion but,”  He pauses, putting his face in his hands.  “You!  You are appealing, I love you!  Fuck.”  His hands now move to his hips, every moment he speaks is another nervous movement.  His hands won't stop shifting, neither will he or his thoughts.  “You are so attractive.  And you’re so interesting- and kind, and funny, you are one of the best things to ever happen to me.  I’m so happy when I’m with you, and I never want to stop being around you,” His voice is faint, trembling.  He rambles on and on, shy compliments falling from his mouth uncontrollably.  Like an ocean out of a spigot.  You can see him shaking.

You pause again, you’ve been friends for how long now?  Working the job he helped you get, assuming he never returned your feelings, the thousands of memories coming to mind in a moment.  You wanted to tell him the same- that you loved his stupid dorky smile and his stupid laugh and the way he worked so hard all the time.  All you could muster was a small “...ah”, which sounded a lot more like a sort of rejection than you wanted.  Too lost in realizing how long ago you could have possibly had him, how long ago you could have said something.  How much you just, loved him.  The fact that he LIKED you.  He loved you back!

But, this reaction just made him more nervous than anything.  His chances looked slim.  Worse- unsubstantial.  Non-existent.  He watches your reaction carefully, hopeful and nervous at the same time.  “So, is there…  Any chance, you feel the same way about me?” He asks nervously, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest.

You nod, looking away from him.  “You felt this way- how long?”

Mike swallows hard, surprised by your response but trying to hide it.  “I… I don’t know.  A while.  I mean, I always thought you were really great, but then it just.  It started feeling different.  A couple of years now?  I think?”  He admits, his voice barely above a whisper.  You don’t move an inch, looking back into his eyes.  “...Really?”

A sudden boldness overtakes him, nodding “Yes, do you?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.  You back a little nervously, unsure how to handle the vulnerability happening so suddenly.  He doesn’t question too much, he knows well and good how awkward you get in vulnerable situations.  “...yes”.  Mike reaches out to cup your face, rubbing his thumb under your eyes a small bit.  “Really?  You feel the same way about me, honestly?”  You nod tentatively, avoiding eye contact in embarrassment.  You knew there was no reason, he felt the same way, but it was just a little overwhelming.

Nevertheless, what was noticeably similar between the two of you now, was your gaze.  He could see the change in your eyes as you looked him up and down.  He steps forward, slowly as to let you turn him down if you want.  Not a single move he made was stopped by you, not the way he slowly got closer to you.  The way his hands moved to your lips, or the way his face got closer.  His confidence rose, now speaking inches away from you.  “It’s alright, no need to be embarrassed” he whispered comfortingly, a sort of calm and coddling tone to his voice.  “I’ve wanted you, this, for so long” He waited for signs from you after every sentence, hanging on to every motion you made as if it was all that ever mattered. 

You almost gave in, your face getting closer to his when you realized.  Putting a hand on his chest, you created some distance “Hold on- we can’t do this here.  We’re at work.”

“I know, I just.  I need you.  No one’s here, no one else will be, and the only people who watch- or can figure out- the old-ass cameras are us.  You’re so, hot.  Please-” He begs in a soft whisper, not in a way that is overpowering, or demanding.  It was pathetic and weak.  He stares at you, eyes filled with need, desire, and desperation.  His eyebrows furrow in such a way, softly.  Like he needs you, at your mercy.  Your own confidence rises a little now, a sense of power is in your hands now.

“Do you not want this?”  He implores, once more not in a way that is not manipulative but desperate.  He’d get on the floor and kiss your boots if you wanted- all he wanted was you.  “I do, but…” You start, taking your chance to tease him the moment it presents itself.  “If you need me that bad, you’ll have to wait…” You look towards the clock, and back into his puppy eyes.  “Another hour or so.”

“Another hour?” He asks in an exasperated breath, trying not to groan in the process.  “Can we… at least touch?” He whispers again, his voice hoarse with need and desire.  You smile, stars in your eyes “If you can handle it without losing control of yourself, sure you can” You challenge him, enjoying the way he melts at your every word.

He nods, breathing deeply to calm himself.  “I’ll try my best” Leaning in closer once more, his hand slides up your thigh.  You’re unsure where to put your hands, feeling the heat radiating between the both of you.  He feels it too, and it drives him crazy.  “I’ve dreamed of this,” He mutters, his hands ghosting slightly under the bottom of your shirt against your skin.  “Can I touch you?  Just a little? Please,” He begins to mumble towards the end, unable to formulate his emotions properly.

You laugh a little, flattered at how much of a mess he is in your presence.  “Just a little” you murmur, feeling his fingers begin to brush against your waist.  Heat pounding in both of your chests.  His fingers brush against the skin under your clothes, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach and up to your chest.  Not yet touching there, “You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, his lips grazing against your neck.  “I want to make love to you so badly,” He sounds so pathetic, he’s never sounded like this before.  It sent shivers through you, he was a strong man.  Hell, you were there when he decked that man in the mall.  Though you’d never admit you enjoyed it a little too much.  It was delicious, a man of so much resolve and strength was at your mercy.  Begging and pleading for your permission, your attention.  Your anything.  He held himself even now with so much dominance, but not missing his fair share of submissiveness.  Just for you.

You place a hand on his chest, backing up teasingly.  Urging him forward.  “Too bad you have to wait the full hour then, hm?”  Mike chuckles softly in response, “You’re cruel, you know that?  But, I’ll endure” He leans down again, lips close to yours, teasingly so but not quite touching.  You look him in the eyes, backing up just a little more as you hit a table.  He places his hands on the table and leans on it, one arm on each side of you.  “Should’ve expected that from me, honestly.  With how long we’ve been friends, and all” You laugh, and Mike’s heart skips a beat.  Leaning closer, bodies pressed tightly together.  “I did.”  He whispers, warm breath against your skin.  “But, I could have never imagined it would feel this good”

“Flattering won’t get me to speed up that timer, you know” You joke, deflecting his loving response.  But, you can’t avoid it forever.  His fingers continue to dance all over your skin, taking as much of you in as he could.  His gaze locks onto yours, full of longing “I know,” he says softly, the way he said it was so small but so sure of himself.  “But, I can’t help myself”

You hide your face in your hands, blushing profusely.  Your reputation seemed at stake in your mind, having been the cool calm, and collected friend up until now.  It was hanging on by threads, but you weren’t so sure it’d hold up to the end of the night.  “I’m sure” you retort to his earlier comment.  Mike’s chest rises and falls with his breath, anticipation thick in the air.  You could practically cut through it with a knife.  No amount of joking could cover how much the both of you wanted each other.  His hand meets your chin gently, tilting your head to meet his gaze once again.  “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”  Barely responding, you nod.  Eyes half-lidded in excitement you make a half-assed effort to hide.  “Mhm,”

Mike leans in, finally.  His lips brush against yours, not quite an actual kiss yet.  It’s a soft teasing kiss that only leaves you wanting more.  His hands find their way back to your waist to pull you closer still.  “Just a little longer,” he seems to beg himself.  His voice is low and seductive, but there’s no mistaking that he’s not the one in charge here.  There’s no mistaking the tone in his voice showing just how much control you have over him.  You lean into him as he continues to explore under your clothes.  An idea enters your head, glancing at the table behind you.  Mike gives small kisses and gentle touches, anticipation and desire building more and more.

As if reading your mind, Mike moves his arms under your legs and lifts you to sit on the table, holding you against him.  “Are you sure you can wait?”  he whispers, a hint of amusement evident in his voice.  “I’m fine, can YOU wait?” you lie, still flustered about how he simply lifted you onto the table.  He moves closer, mouth only inches from yours.  “You really don’t have to be so afraid of being vulnerable, you know?”  tilting his head for a slow, sweet kiss.  You melt into it, grasping at your clothes and parting to take some off.  Removing your jacket and vest to be left in a t-shirt, your neck is now more visible.

It doesn’t take much for him to get the idea.  He’s known you long enough to figure out what you’re saying without you saying it.  His hands wander up your arms, tracing your skin again as he leans in closer.  Lips brushing against your neck, shivers running down your spine in unison.  His breath is warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “Tell me what you want”

There wasn’t an easy way to say it.  You couldn’t just give in, absolutely not.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about” You feign indifference, in your least convincing performance yet.  You hope he simply becomes impatient, and gives you what he clearly knows you want.  Though, he never was.  He’s always been so stubbornly patient.  Even now, that was something you loved about him.  He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you tight.  “I know you better than that,” He whispers, lips pressing against the side of your neck.  “I can tell.  But, do you want this to be some sort of game?  Pretend like I don’t drive you absolutely crazy?”  There’s no answer from you.  Of course not, then you wouldn’t be playing the game right.

Mike continues his ministrations, his hand cupping the back of your head, not stopping his teasing anytime soon.  “You like this, huh?” His voice is quiet, but there’s no mistaking you heard him.  In the midst, you try to stay strong, but noises escape you.  Embarrassment might eat you whole, if he wasn’t already doing that.  “That’s what I thought” You can feel him smirk against your skin, placing butterfly kisses against your neck once again before he pulls back to look into your eyes.  You wrap your legs around him, placing your arms around him and your face in the crook of his neck.  His hands slide under your shirt, tracing gentle circles on your back as he leans in for a deeper kiss.  You follow his lead, his hands explore farther and farther, until,

DING!  6 am strikes, and your shift ends.  The night ends, but yours just started.

♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡ Hope you enjoyed it! This took way longer than I wanted it to, work and all has been flooding me. Have a good night/day, and a great life!

[quirkle2]

i am manifesting the urge to have you talk about your blorbos. please talk about the blorbos more please i want to learn more about them!

EEEEEE my head's kinda empty rn so i don't have anything in particular to share but here's some random lil details n tidbits abt the au that i've written down !

they all have certain characteristics that are left behind for a while after they change between hylian and dark world forms. wars' hair gets silvery in some places. briar has his facial markings. lumen's pupils glow a pale blue for a while afterward. fig has swirls and stripes marking his back that fade over time—when in the light, they have a slightly sparkly sheen to them. and legend's, of course, is pink hair (he actually loves how it looks and willingly changes to his dark world form from time to time to "dye" it)

they each Also have a special power that's unique to their forms! i want their forms to be treated more like tools than hindrances, so im giving them,,, boosts, as incentive to use them i guess. im still deciding on some of them, but i know i want wars' ferret form to be able to "see through objects" (i'll ramble about the consequences of That sometime later if people wanna know, don't wanna clog up this post w nonsense)

briar has his first drink with fig during the journey :)

fig still has quite a young mind at times, so it occasionally does ""childish"" things, like randomly making sand castles when they've camped near a beach, or saying "echoooo" when in a cave . bad example but like i said my brain is fried currently GVYAEGV

they r all mentally ill and therefore they all make random noises at each other btw . i make random noises all day so they do too <3 i do what i want

this was a short list im so sorry but im ending this w smth for y'all to consider: when one of them gets badly injured and the wounded is finally treated and resting, the others snuggle up in a pile around them,,,,,, worried . pile warm and comforting

[chiliadicorum]

Glorfindel and the Balrog (Again)

Glorfindel was a badass and I need to talk about this AGAIN.

I thought I was done waxing poetic about Glorfindel's fight with the Balrog after the last post. I mean, what else was there to say? Joke's on me. Because I just had an epiphany recently concerning that duel that I realized is so grossly overlooked because, you know, epic battle and badass awesomeness that takes priority over anything mundane (I'm guilty of that. Refer to: said post).

I'm going to dredge up some popular fanon again and declare that it's canon. Let me ask y'all a question:

DO YOU KNOW HOW HOT FIRE IS?

Hear me out. Yes, simple question and yeah, everyone knows fire is frickin hot. As I said though, it's a mundane detail and as a result, tends to be overlooked. However, my attention was drawn to it when I recently took part in a brushfire.* Do not confuse this with a typical bonfire. This brushfire was to burn dead brush gathered over the course of several years and can only be burned in the middle of winter. It's way hotter, way bigger with way more fuel burning. I'd seen a brushfire before but I'd forgotten what it felt like.

We all had to stand, at minimum, 20ft away (30ft or more was better). The fire itself was impressive, but the intensity of that heat was insane. We maintained a safe distance, but our faces still turned pink from the heat. My actual eyeballs began to burn and I had to either back up further or turn away completely. The heat converted the 1°F air (-17°C) into something comfortable to breathe even that far away. But I have to emphasize that, no matter where you walked, you could not get safely within 20ft of this fire without proper apparatus. It was too hot for your face and eyes to tolerate.

Guys, that Balrog was a beast of living fire and Glorfindel grappled with it. I mean, he was already in proximity close enough to engage in that combat. Let's recap: struck the Balrog's head (impressive btw, considering Balrogs are twice an Elf's height), hewed off its whip-arm, and drove his sword through the Balrog's shoulder, not to mention all the other blows he landed in the combat:

"The ardour of Glorfindel drave that Balrog from point to point, and his mail fended him from its whip and claw.” 

But remember, when he struck the shoulder and the sword caught, the full-on brawling on the mountain pinnacle began:

“Then sprang the Balrog in the torment of his pain and fear full at Glorfindel, who stabbed like a dart of a snake; but he found only a shoulder, and was grappled, and they swayed to a fall upon the crag-top.”

....This is actually blowing my mind a bit. How has this not clicked before? Because this speaks volumes to Glorfindel's determination to see the demon killed, to save his people. Glorfindel wasn't a safe distance away shooting arrows or hurling spears. He wasn't 20ft away. He was fighting with a sword. And he was literally embracing that creature of living flame in a fight to the death. We don't know the literal degree of how hot the Balrogs burned, but by intuition alone, I think we can deduce that they were a lot bigger and hotter than some mere brushfire. Let's recall some details from the book in The Bridge of Khazad-dûm:

"The flame roared up to greet [the Balrog], and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. [...] The dark figure streaming with fire raced towards them. [...] Fire came from its nostrils."

From The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, #144:

"The Balrogs, of whom the whips were the chief weapons, were primeval spirits of destroying fire [...]"

Balrogs were their own self-regulating and self-sustaining inferno, with "hearts of fire". Peter Jackson may have exaggerated the height of the Balrog in the movie, but he nailed the physiology, imo. Balrogs never laughed, never spoke, but they could control the amount of fire and darkness/shadow they emitted.

Getting back to that fanon I mentioned, it's a popular idea that Glorfindel sustained burns or caught fire in this fight, something like that. It's a notion regularly used in fanfic for years but always something relegated to the fanon category, an "unconfirmed" theory. I've enjoyed those fics, still do, but there's always been the back-and-forth about how accurate it is, if at all. I was on that fence too because Tolkien never explicitly stated it happened.

But guys, it's canon. Glorfindel got burned in that fight. Even if he never came in contact with its living flame (he did), even if he never brawled with the Balrog (he did), the heat alone would've burned him from the proximity of fighting with a sword. That's the whole point of this post.

This is the one time I'm not giddy about declaring a fanon is canon. It's so awful. Of course, it's left to the individual imagination as to the severity of his burns and where they occurred. Elves are not humans and I submit to the idea that there can be a difference in tolerance with such elements (such is the case with cold temperatures), but Tolkien still made it clear they're not immune to fire. I recall wondering if Glorfindel ever got burned, but it was such a passing thought I think because I put too much focus on this text:

"The ardour of Glorfindel drave that Balrog from point to point, and his mail fended him from its whip and claw.” 

Tolkien made it clear that Glorfindel obtained no fatal/serious injuries in that fight, which is significant and should be recognized precisely because it's a testament to Glorfindel's insane skill and speed. But Tolkien says it, or rather omits it, right there: "his mail fended him from its whip and claw". Tolkien doesn't mention the fire. He's talking about the attacks the Balrog is trying to strike Glorfindel with and failing abominably. It's so easy to ignore a mundane factor like temperature when there's so much epic action to fixate on.

Because before Glorfindel even began grappling with the Balrog and came in contact with its fire, he was getting burned.

And it never slowed him down.

Have you ever been even minorly burned by fire before, like a candle flame or heat from a stove? I have and it's the mildest as far as burns go but IT HURTS. It gets your attention like nothing else and makes you yank back on pure instinct. Yet Glorfindel never yanked back. He wasn't fighting any candle flame, yet he never faltered or stepped back at the searing touch of that heat. Let alone the actual fire later.

Glorfindel was plainly hell-bent on saving his people from this threat. No one can argue that, particularly when he was the one to pursue the Balrog. But this new aspect just further drives home that single-mindedness of that determination. That desperation. That's a better word. For as calm and in control of that fight as he was, despite being seared by that heat which would cause a normal person to falter, he never once retreated even for a moment to regain ground (he had room) or wait for aid (Elves were rushing to help him, Tolkien said) or reassess (he had time - that Balrog was terrified of him at that point and was actively trying to run away from him). My conclusion? Glorfindel was desperate to kill it. Frantic in that calm, disciplined way that's terrifying. Grief from Gondolin's destruction, grief from the massacre of his people, anger and uncertainty at their dire state, and now this demon was coming to finish off what remnant was left?

No. Soon as Glorfindel "leapt forward upon him" there was only one objective in his mind, one end: that Balrog was going to die now. And nothing would stop him or slow him down until it did.

*descriptions of the battle on Cristhorn from “The Fall of Gondolin” HoME II.194-5 *(disclaimer to ward off comments: this fire was in the middle of a field of snow, was law-abiding, was city-approved, etc. It was a controlled burn so no worries)