#spellbinding circle

[shironezuninja]

I regret absolutely nothing. BTW, if I can’t have the option to refuse a video selfie for Meta’s Dating requirements, then no one can have me through that service.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

summary: harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension?

words: 6k

warnings: smut, fluff. p in v sex (on the ice rink 🤭), kissing, dirty talk, cursing, creampie.

Harry tied the laces on his hockey skates tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of practice. He could hear sounds coming from the rink - ice being scraped by skates, pucks hitting the boards, the coach's whistle. Harry gave his laces one final tug before grabbing his stick. 

He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. The chilly air made goosebumps form on his arms. The rink was like a second home to him. Hockey wasn't just a sport - it was a huge part of who he was.

"Harry! Get out here!" one of his teammates yelled from the rink. They had already started drills.  

Harry grinned and headed out of the locker room. The cold air hit his face. He breathed it in deeply. The icy smell, the rubber pucks, the sweaty aroma - it all felt comforting to Harry. To others it might smell bad, but to him it smelled like the game he loved.

Harry stepped onto the ice and immediately relaxed. Gliding across the smooth surface, he fell in line with his teammates. They were doing intense drills - racing across the ice, passing pucks back and forth. Harry focused hard, practicing his puck handling, skating agility, and wrist shots.

"Keep it up, Styles! Work hard and you'll make it to the big leagues one day!" Coach Bradford yelled from the bench in his gravelly voice.

Motivated, Harry accelerated with a burst of speed. He weaved through cones and ripped slapshots on goal. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, hair matted to his forehead. 

Finally, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Harry stayed out, picking up scattered pucks, while his teammates headed off the ice. Their skates dug trenches as they went.

"Coming for pints later, Styles?" one of the guys called out to him with a grin.

"Think I'll stay and get some more practice in," Harry replied, already lining up pucks.

His friend chuckled and shook his head. "Course you will, ya hockey nut!"

Harry smiled to himself as he readied his stance at the face-off circle. He took some calming breaths, then launched slapshot after slapshot. Hockey was his happy place.

Suddenly, the sound of classical music echoed through the rink. Harry looked up, distracted, and saw a figure gliding onto the ice. It was Y/N, looking like an ethereal vision in her shimmery white skating outfit.  

Harry had seen Y/N around the rink before, but had never really paid attention. Now, he found himself utterly transfixed as she began gracefully spinning and leaping across the ice. Her every move was mesmerizing.

From his side of the rink, Harry gaped at Y/N in awe. He gripped his stick tightly as she performed effortless jumps and intricate spins. Her dance across the ice was like a carefully choreographed masterpiece.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched, slack-jawed, as she launched herself into a triple lutz, rotating three times in the air before landing smoothly. Her practice was spellbinding.  

Y/N finally caught Harry staring at her from across the way. A flush spread over her cheeks, obvious even from a distance. She looked surprised to have an audience.

The tension broke when a rogue puck trickled across the ice, coming to a stop by Y/N's skates. She glanced down at it, then back at Harry.

"S-Sorry, didn't mean to bother you," Harry called out, feeling sheepish.

But Y/N just gave him a shy smile that dazzled him. "No worries, the rink's for sharing."

And just like that, the Hockey stud and the figure skating beauty shared their first interaction and smiles across the expanse of frozen ice.

Over the next few nights, Harry intentionally stayed late after hockey practice. Sure enough, Y/N was always there too, gracefully practicing her routines to soaring instrumental music. 

At first they kept their distance, staying on opposite sides of the rink. They exchanged polite hellos and "excuse me's" anytime they ventured close.

But Harry couldn't resist furtively watching Y/N whenever she attempted a jump or spin. The way she commanded the ice captivated him. Her movement was powerful yet delicate, athletic yet graceful. 

For her part, Y/N tried not to overtly gape at Harry as he drilled his hockey skills. But it was difficult to ignore his intensity and ferocity as he powerfully strode across the ice, ripping slapshots or stickhandling between cones.

Little by little, over those next evenings together, Harry and Y/N started making small adjustments. They angled their practices closer and closer to the center of the rink. Neither commented on it, but some unseen force seemed to be drawing them in from opposite ends.

One night, as Y/N spun directly in front of where Harry prepped pucks, he gasped audibly. "Wow..."

Y/N looked up, making accidental eye contact. Their gazes locked and she couldn't help but give him a tiny, coy smile before whipping around seamlessly into her next spin sequence.

Mesmerized, Harry felt his heart thump in his chest. He knew firsthand how much work went into athletic excellence like Y/N's skating. But there was also an indescribable artistry to the way she moved in tune with the music. It was spellbinding.

Harry was shaken from his trance by a puck smacking his shinguards. "Earth to Styles! You still with us, mate?" one of his teammates chirped with a grin from the bench.

Embarrassed to be caught ogling, Harry just sheepishly rubbed his neck. Over the past week of sharing the rink with Y/N, he had definitely lost some focus during team practices.  

He took a steadying breath and refocused on drills with renewed intensity. But even as he rejoined his linemates, he couldn't stop sneaking peeks through the corner of his eye at the lithe figure skater.

Later, just as the music crescendoed to a finish, Harry heard the distinct whisper of skates approaching him. He turned to find Y/N gliding to a stop nearby, cheeks delicately flushed from exertion and wispy hairs stuck to her neck with perspiration.

"You have really great puck control," she remarked shyly.

Harry's mouth went a little dry at her proximity and floral scent mixing with the icy air. "Th-thanks. And your skating is just...amazing."

Y/N let out a tinkling laugh at his flustered words. "Actually, I was going to ask if maybe you could give me some hockey tips sometime? It could really help with my edgework and connecting to the ice."

"Yeah, seriously? Of course!" Harry eagerly agreed before she even finished asking. He would've said yes to virtually any request to spend more time around this entrancing girl. "But uh, I should warn you...I'm a pretty intense coach," he added with a lopsided grin.

Y/N just playfully rolled her eyes. "I can definitely handle you."  

She skated backwards a few strides, flashing him a brilliant smile that made his heart flutter. "So I'll see you out here again tomorrow night then...Coach?"

Harry nodded, unable to contain his own wide smile. "It's a date."

A strange new energy seemed to crackle between them in the cold rink air. Harry's gaze lingered on Y/N as she glided off elegantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath her gossamer skating skirt.

As soon as she disappeared into the locker room, Harry let out a long exhale he didn't realize he'd been holding. He felt completely bewitched by this girl - her beauty, her talent, her effortlessly disarming presence.  

For years, hockey had been Harry's sole obsession, his all-consuming priority. But in this moment, he could feel another obsession taking hold - one with this sublime, mysterious figure skater who had seemingly materialized into his life. 

Gathering up the scattered pucks, Harry definitely sensed that tomorrow's "hockey lesson" was bound to be interesting...

***

The next evening, Harry arrived at the rink extra early, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. His stomach was doing bizarre somersault twists - an unusual sensation for him before stepping out onto the ice. Normally the rink was his haven, the one place he felt most at home and at peace. But tonight, he was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Harry had been distracted all day, struggling to focus during classes and his morning workout at the gym. Tonight's private "lesson" with Y/N kept replaying over and over in his mind like a maddeningly catchy song stuck on repeat. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the prospect of helping her with hockey drills made him so jittery. It's not like he'd never tutored teammates or younger players before. 

But something about the thought of being alone on the ice with the lithe, beautiful figure skater sent Harry's heart fluttering in a way he'd never experienced. Usually so self-assured and confident, Harry was uncharacteristically self-conscious as he laced up his skates tonight. He fussed over making sure his wild chestnut hair didn't look too disheveled, and discreetly applied some of his musky cologne before leaving the locker room.

Stepping out onto the dimly-lit rink, Harry gave himself a little pep talk to quell his inexplicable nerves. "Come on, Styles, get it together. It's just a bloody skating lesson, for fuck's sake. You've been playing hockey since you could walk! What's there to be nervous about?"

But then his breath hitched as he spotted Y/N already out on the ice, gently coasting along with her arms hugged around herself. She seemed to almost glow in the soft lighting, a breathtaking vision in her sleek athletic attire that clung to every tantalizing curve. Her lithe form effortlessly flowed with each stride across the smooth ice.

Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, Y/N slowed to a stop and turned to face Harry with a shy smile. "Oh! Hey there, Coach. Shall we get started then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course! Let's do this," Harry replied with an overcompensating bravado, giving his head a little shake as if to dispel his nerves.

Y/N giggled at his awkward bravado, the tinkling sound making Harry's heart skip a beat. "Don't look so tense! It's just me."

Her teasing only made Harry feel more flustered as a smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly. It's...just you."

They both let those words hang there heavy between them for a moment, their eyes locked together across the wide ice. Then, as if through unspoken agreement, they simultaneously broke into laughter at their own silly tension.

"Right, okay then! Let's start with some basic stickhandling and power skating drills," Harry finally announced in his best "coaching" voice, scooping up a few pucks.

"Lead the way, Coach Styles!" Y/N gamely agreed with a grin.

For the next little while, some of Harry's nerves settled as he fell back into that familiar pattern of running drills, feeling assured and authoritative in his element. He put Y/N through a series of intense stickhandling routines - dribbling the puck between complicated cone patterns, making tight turns while handling the puck in circles, deking around obstacles with fast crossovers.

To her credit, Y/N worked diligently and didn't complain once, even when sweat began dampening her brow. Her exceptional skating prowess and coordination definitely helped her pick up hockey skills quickly. But the occasional fumbles and slips still drew some gentle teasing from Harry.

"Not quite, figure skater! You've got to keep your edges lower on crossovers," he tutted, flashing her a smirk as she wobbled slightly after messing up a pivot.

"Oh do forgive me, your Highness! Some of us don't have as much practice making aggressive cuts back and forth, you know!" she shot back with a laugh, planting her hands on her hips.

"No excuses, no excuses! How else are you gonna improve?" Harry quipped, skating lazy circles around Y/N while she caught her breath. His gaze kept drifting down to the sheen of sweat glistening along the graceful curve of her neck.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter, with Harry analyzing her form and gently course correcting when needed. For her part, Y/N chirped right back and seemed utterly unafraid to get a little sassy with her "coach."

At one point, after completing a rapid succession of puck handling sequences, Harry noticed a few loose strands of Y/N's hair had escaped her French braid to stick damply against her flushed face and neck. Before he could even really process the impulse, Harry found himself reaching out to gently brush the damp locks behind her ear.

Both of them froze at the sudden intimate gesture. Harry opened his mouth to quickly apologize for the overstep. But the words died in his throat when he glanced up and found Y/N gazing at him through hooded lids, her coy smile and flushed cheeks making his heart restart with a hard thud.

"I, uh...think you're ready to move on to some shooting drills now," Harry rasped in a low tone, reluctantly taking a step back and scooping up a few pucks.

They settled into the familiar rhythm of Harry rapidly feeding Y/N pucks while she whipped shot after shot towards the empty net. Her skating power and edgework were superb as she leaned into the lightning-fast wristers, putting her full body weight behind every blistering attempt on goal.

But as the drill progressed, Harry could see Y/N's form gradually getting sloppier as fatigue set in. Her shots lost some of their zip, her tight core beginning to hunch over. When one weak wrister fluttered harmlessly wide of the net, Harry blew his whistle to pause the action.

"Take a break for a minute, get some water," he urged in a tone much gentler than his usual coaching bark. Harry skated over to the bench and grabbed his own water bottle, downing a long pull. He watched Y/N do the same out of the corner of his eye as she bent over, those same wispy strands of hair falling to curtain her flushed face once more.

As she straightened back up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat at the way Y/N's tight athletic top clung to her curves, damp with perspiration. He subconsciously licked his lips, feeling his mouth go dry with a sudden burst of dizzying arousal. Quickly looking away, Harry scrubbed a hand through his wild locks and cleared his throat roughly.

"Not bad at all for your first go with hockey drills. You've definitely got the fundamentals down pat."

Y/N shot him a radiant smile, seeming utterly unaware of the effect she was having on her coach as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. "Well, I do have an awfully good teacher pushing me hard."  

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry countered, feeling his pulse spike at her playful flirtiness. He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice still came out a bit lower and rougher than intended. "Your strong core, killer edges, and flexibility from skating give you a really solid base for hockey skills."

"Why Coach Styles, are you saying I have...a killer body?" she teased, enjoying how flustered she could make the supremely confident hockey stud.

Harry's jaw dropped open, her boldness utterly disarming him. "I-I, well I didn't...that's not exactly what I-"

But Y/N just giggled and skated backward, waving him off. "I'm just joking around! Let's keep going, yeah? But maybe take it a little easier since it's my first time handling your...stick."

She drew out the last two words with a salacious wink, throwing Harry completely off his game. His face reddened instantly, sputtering incoherently as an entirely different kind of tension suddenly clung thick in the air between them.

Seeming to realize she'd flustered her coach a bit too much, Y/N reigned in her playful teasing with an apologetic smile. "Too far?"

"No! No, it's...it's all good. Just caught me off guard is all," Harry said quickly, giving his head a little shake to clear it as a lopsided grin formed. Two could play at this flirtatious game. "Let's just say I'm happy to give you a few pointers on stick handling whenever you need it."

Y/N sent him an exaggerated wink, taking her position again. "Looking forward to it, Coach."

And just like that, the heavy undercurrent of sexual tension dissipated again as they refocused on their drills. But it was like a lingering spark had been lit between them, little flirty moments flickering to life occasionally as the practice session wore on.

At one point, Harry skated past closely behind Y/N to scoop up a rogue puck, making sure his firm chest brushed along her back ever-so-slightly. He definitely didn't miss the shiver that licked down her spine at the brief contact, even in the chill of the rink.

Another time, as he demonstrated a proper shooting stance with a high wrist shot, Y/N sidled up to his side. "Like this?" she murmured huskily, purposely pressing her lithe body flush against Harry's sculpted torso as she mimicked his firing motion.

Harry gulped thickly at their sudden intimate proximity, feeling his breath quicken. "Y-Yeah, just like that..." he rasped out, unable to tear his gaze from the delicate slope of Y/N's neck just inches away.

Oh, the smell of ice mixed with her intoxicating perfume, all he wanted to do was take a bite.

With a wicked grin, Y/N slowly extracted herself from Harry's personal space, leaving the poor guy almost dizzy and aching for her warmth again. This girl was going to be the death of him.

After nearly two hours of rigorous back-and-forth drilling, skating lap after lap across the rink, they were both finally drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Y/N paused for a long pull from her water bottle before tossing it aside carelessly and gliding right up to Harry with a gleam in her eye.

"I've got one last request for my hockey tutor..." she said in a low, sultry tone as she drew closer and closer until the heat of her body mingled with Harry's.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart thundering beneath his sweat-soaked jersey. "Y-Yeah? What's that?"

With a sly grin, Y/N reached out and boldly rucked up the hem of Harry's jersey until it bunched up beneath his armpits. Then she openly raked her heated gaze over every toned inch of his sculpted abdomen and chest now deliciously exposed.

"I want you to show me..." she purred in a low, gravelly tone, "how you celebrate after scoring a big goal."

Harry felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs as her words and blazing look washed over him. He stood there frozen, abdominal muscles twitching beneath her roaming eyes. When she slowly dragged her tongue across her plump lower lip, Harry was utterly undone.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the hips and hauled her flush against his body as he crashed his lips onto hers in a searing, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise against his hungry mouth before instantly melting into the embrace, her fingers fisting into his damp hair.

Their kisses were immediately messy and uncoordinated, all instinct and pent-up longing as they finally gave in to the thick tension that had slowly simmered during their private lesson. Harry angled his head, deepening their liplock as his hands gripped Y/N's lithe waist almost punishingly. She rolled her hips shamelessly against the unmistakable bulge in his athletic pants, earned a guttural groan from Harry.

"Fuck...you're going to be the death of me, you bloody tease," he growled against the sleek column of her throat as his lips blazed a hot trail across her overheated skin.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, the sound shooting straight to Harry's groin. "I'd say I'm sorry...but I'm really, really not."

Growling again at her cheekiness, Harry abruptly spun them both and shoved Y/N up against the dasher boards, pinning her there with his body as his large hands roamed greedily over her petite frame. Bunching up her sleek workout top, he leaned down to trail openmouthed kisses along the soft swell of her belly and up between the lace-capped valley of her breasts.

Y/N squirmed and writhed shamelessly against Harry, little whimpery pants escaping her bitten lips as his calloused hands roamed every inch of her overheated skin finally bared to his wandering touch. Threading her fingers through his wild hair, she tugged his mouth back up to hers for another messy clash of dueling tongues and harsh breaths.

"Harry..." she whined out between electrifying kisses. "I want...I need..."

"What, love? Tell me what you need," he rasped against the swell of her parted lips, hips rutting shamelessly against her core as he pinned her harder to the unforgiving boards.

She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, chest heaving. In answer, Y/N boldly reached down and cupped the  bulge tenting the front of Harry's pants. An audible groan punched out of him at her touch, his forehead thudding weakly against the brows by her head.

"Jesus...are you sure? Here on the rink like this?" he questioned, even as his hips grinded shamelessly into her exploring palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Y/N whispered urgently. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip, peering back at him through dense lashes. "I want you so fucking badly right here, right now. Please, Harry...I need you inside me."

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before crashing his lips back to Y/N's in another messy, fiery kiss. One large hand slid around to cup her arse, grinding her core more firmly against the rigid length of him. She rewarded him with a broken whimper into his mouth.

With his free hand, Harry blindly tugged Y/N's leggings and knickers down in one impatient tug until they were a rumpled pool around her ankles. She quickly kicked them aside, spreading her thighs wantonly as Harry settled in the cradle of her hips.

They both groaned in unison as the their centres made contact, Harry's clothed length nestling snugly against Y/N's slick, molten heat. Reaching between their flush bodies, Y/N deftly freed Harry's straining cock to spring free from the confines of his pants. She traced the plump velvet head teasingly, drinking in Harry's desperate whine against her lips.

"Fuck me..." Harry panted, rutting shamelessly against her hand. "Y/N, please let me fuck you, baby."

That was all the encouragement she needed before guiding his broad tip to her entrance. They both cried out in unison as Harry bottomed out in one slick thrust forward, his thick cock fitting snugly inside her with a soft punch of air. The thick length prodded into her deliciously, kissing the back of her damp cervix. They stilled together for a wild heartbeat, trembling mouths and sweat-dampened foreheads pressed flush as they adjusted to the heady feeling of being so intimately connected.

Harry was the first to move, withdrawing his hips in a slow grind before slamming back home, driving a guttural moan from Y/N's parted lips. He set a punishing pace, his strong arms and thighs flexing with the effort of moving them both against the rigid boards. Y/N wrapped her toned legs high around his flexing hips, nails raking down his rigid back as he jackhammered into her welcoming body over and over.

“Oh fuck, Harry-just like that, like that, yeah–” Y/N moaned once more, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his cock twitching isnide her cunt at the sensation.

“Oh Jesus, you’re so damn hot, you know taht?” he panted into her mouth, their damp clothes sticking togtehr in a sweaty mess. But the way they made each other feel, it was all worth it.

They panted out harsh, shuddering breaths, slick skin slapping together obscenely in the silence of the empty rink. Y/N babbled out breathy moans and curses, struggling to muffle the loud echoes with her face buried in the sweaty curve of Harry's neck. She bit down on it occasionally, earning a groan from him as she paired it with desperate clenches around his length.

But her unraveling cries only spurred him on, his cock driving into her with rougher, more frantic strokes until they were both hovering right on the edge.  

With a few more powerful snaps of his hips, Y/N’s back arched like a bow and screamed out her climax, creamy inner walls fluttering spastically around Harry's thick length. The sudden gripping contractions yanked Harry's own orgasm from him in hot bursts as he brokenly shouted out his release, teeth sinking into the supple juncture of Y/N's neck and shoulder, something he had been waiting to do since teh night they met.

They clung together in a sweaty, panting jumble of sated limbs, chests heaving as they slowly drifted back to earth. Little aftershocks still rippled through them both until finally Harry drew his head back, blissfully dazed as he gazed at the thoroughly rumpled and glowing girl in his arms.

"Well...I'd say you definitely scored one hell of a goal," Y/N panted out breathlessly after a moment, trying for a coy smile despite her wild disarray.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bright and carefree as he peppered fresh kisses along Y/N's heated cheek and jaw. "Lucky shot, beautiful..."

They held each other for a long stretch, neither willing to break the intimate embrace just yet despite the chilled rink air now raising goosebumps across their sweat-slickened skin. Harry nuzzled deeper against Y/N's neck, breathing in her lingering floral scent heavily tinged with sweat and arousal.  

Eventually though, Harry reluctantly eased Y/N's trembling legs back to the floor, steadying her with a firm arm around her waist. Looking around the dim rink with a lopsided smile, he gave a low chuckle at the state of complete disarray - sopping workout clothes, towels, and water bottles strewn everywhere around them, plus a naughty new addition of Y/N's lacy panties lying crumpled against the boards where their heated frenzied began.

Y/N looped her arms loosely around Harry's neck, her coy eyes sparkling with mirth as she gazed back at him adoringly. Harry leaned in again to capture her lips in a sensual, unhurried kiss, reveling in the taste and feel of her. When they finally broke apart again, he pressed his forehead to hers with a contented sigh.

"Fancy grabbing a pint with me when we're done cleaning up this unholy mess?" Harry murmured, pressing his forehead to Y/N's with a contented sigh. "I'll even let you order me around a bit more."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Y/N countered with a throaty chuckle, lazily trailing her fingertips through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I was rather enjoying calling the shots just now."

"Oh you cheeky minx," Harry growled playfully before surging in to capture her lips in another heated kiss. He walked them backwards until Y/N's back hit the boards again with a dull thud, caging her in with his body as his large hands roamed eagerly over her bare curves.

Y/N mewled softly into his ravenous mouth, welcoming the slide of his tongue stroking intimately against her own. Her limbs felt heavy and lax, muscles still tingling from the mind-blowing release mere minutes ago. But she could already feel a new ember of need beginning to stoke low in her belly as Harry's sweat-slicked skin glided feverishly against hers.

One of his big hands boldly slid down to cup her arse, hauling Y/N's pliant body flush to grind against the feel of his new arousall. She gasped at the electrifying friction, breaking their liplock on a broken whine.   

"Harry...already? I can barely feel my legs!"  

"Sorry love, what was that?" he rumbled right back, swirling his hips in a deliberate grind to drag his impressive length along her drenched folds. "Did you want me to stop?"  

"No! God no, please don't stop," Y/N hurriedly corrected on a breathless keen as Harry sealed his mouth over her thundering pulse point. His other large hand boldly palmed her breast, callused thumb rasping over her peaked nipple until she shuddered.  

"Good girl," he praised in a gravelly tone before biting down sharply on the tendon at the base of her throat.  

Y/N jolted with a strangled cry at the tantalizing sting, her back bowing sharply away from the unforgiving barrier at her spine as her legs instinctively scissored wider around Harry's hips. Lust roared through her veins again, thick and heady as their slick skin slid together with the beginnings of a fervent grind.  

Lips and teeth clashed in a heated duel once more, the rink filling with harsh pants and whines muffled against sweat-dampened skin. Harry was already throbbing and more than ready to bury himself back inside Y/N's snug, fluttering heat. But he purposefully held off, delighting in slowly winding them both into a lascivious frenzy with nothing but sinuous rolls of his hips and fervent caresses.  

"Need you inside me," Y/N groaned at last, using her heels to dig into Harry's firm arse and pull him infinitesimally closer until his rigid length prodded against her drenched entrance. "Harry please, I can't wait anymore. Fuck me again, love."  

He gave a gruff sound of approval at her shameless pleading, the authoritative command fueling his already ravenous lust into an outright inferno. Capturing her mouth in another seering kiss, Harry easily hitched Y/N's leg up over his hip before finally sheathing himself inside her with one powerful snap of his hips.  

They both cried out in unison at the feeling of being so intimately reconnected, Y/N's sweet whimper swallowed by Harry's desperate groan. He set an immediately brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before pounding back in with punishing strokes, letting the delicious tension coil and crescendo.  

Y/N's broken whimpers and moans filled the rink, echoing back at them from the vacant rafters as her petite frame was pinned and jolted by Harry's fervent tempos. One hand scrabbled at the abused boards behind her, trying in vain to find purchase as the other fisted and yanked wildly through Harry's sweat-dampened locks.  

"Yes! Yesyesyes..." she babbled mindlessly on each jarring upstroke that grinded deliciously against that molten front wall of nerves. "Oh fuck, Harry...just like that, god yes!"  

Harry only growled in response, using his bulk and powerful thighs to hammer into her molten core with somehow even more brutal strokes. His teeth found purchase on the feverish juncture of Y/N's neck and collar, sucking a blossom of arousal to the surface as his hips snapped forward in a punishing grind.  

It went on that way, the only sounds filling the rink their harshly mingled cries and the thunderous squelch of flesh meeting slickly in an unforgiving, wild rut. As they spiraled ever higher towards their mutual crescendos, Harry and Y/N's movements turned almost frenzied and animalistic in their unbridled need.  

With a few more piston thrusts of his hips, Y/N detonated first. Her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open on a guttural, sobbing cry of rapture. Every muscle in her lithe body locked up in an archway of pure ecstasy, inner muscles fluttering as she fell over the sweet euphoric release, her stomach tingling with adoration as he looked at her like she was the oly woman in the world.

“Fuck me…” she giggled, but it was immediately transformed into a broken moan as his hips snapped into her quivering entrance once more, her back arching towards his mouth as he latched onto her swollen nipples once again.

His hips snapped inside her–once, twice, thrice–before he was spilling himself inside her, her warmth clinging to him like a comforting embrace that made both their hearts skip a beat.,

***

After their intense intimate encounter on the ice, Harry and Y/N took a few moments to catch their breath and bask in the afterglow. They held each other close, exchanging tender kisses and caresses as their rapidly beating hearts eventually began to settle.

Looking around at the state of disarray they had left the rink in - scattered equipment, towels, water bottles strewn about - Harry chuckled softly against Y/N's tousled hair. "I'd say we've properly christened this ice in a completely unholy way."

Y/N laughed lightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Even amid the chill of the rink, she felt deliciously warm and content cocooned in Harry's strong embrace. "Well they do say no place is too sacred for certain activities."

"Cheeky thing, you are," Harry murmured affectionately, trailing his knuckles along the gentle curve of her flushed cheek. He dipped his head to capture her lips in another lingering kiss, savoring her taste and the feel of her body melting against his.

Eventually they knew they should disentangle and start cleaning up the rink before someone came across the incriminating scene of their tryst. With some reluctance, they separated just enough to hastily redress in their rumpled athletic wear.

As Y/N shimmied back into her leggings, she sent Harry a coy look from beneath her lashes. "So...did I pass my hockey training with flying colors then, Coach?"

Harry snorted at her playful quip, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'd say you earned an A+ for effort...among other things," he replied with a lopsided smirk.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter as they straightened up the rink, tossing towels and equipment into haphazard piles. Every so often, their gazes would meet and linger with a lingering heated undercurrent simmering between them.

Once they had restored some semblance of order, Harry tossed his duffel over his shoulder and took Y/N's hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, let me buy you that pint to celebrate your...excellent performance review."

"Mmm, I do love a good performance incentive program," Y/N quipped, falling into step beside Harry towards the exit. 

An easy, companionable silence fell over them as they made their way out of the deserted rink and into the crisp night air. Stealing a glance at the beaming beauty beside him, Harry felt a contented calm settle over his usual manic hockey intensity.

He wasn't sure what this new...relationship?...with Y/N would hold. But in that moment, just reveling in her presence and their newfound intimacy, Harry found he didn't really care about the future. He was happy to just bask in the feeling of her hand in his and the memory of her cries of pleasure echoing through the rafters.

As they strolled along, their joined hands swung lightly between their bodies. Harry grinned to himself, already wondering if he could convince Y/N of a repeat "lesson" very soon...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Surgery dummy again, are there stories where sterek get stuck together? Like handcuffed? Need to hide it, stuck together?

Y'all are doing great work, and I got 4-5 months recovery, bring on the sterek!!

Yup!

Everyone hates magic by AshLap

(2/2 I 1,333 I Not Rated)

Derek and Stiles get stuck together. Everyone is aged up to college.

Stuck In Love by orphan_account

(1/? I 1,127 I Teen)

All the times Derek and Stiles had been stuck together

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

Closer by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 2,906 I Teen)

“You can’t possibly be blaming me for this.”

Derek aims a dry look Stiles’ way. It’s an effort with Stiles plastered grudgingly to his chest like this, their arms wrapped around each other while Stiles’ body slowly stops quaking.

“How else should I react when something’s obviously your fault?” ---

Stiles and Derek are cursed so that they are in pain whenever they're not close to each other.

All In Good Time by thePurebloodPrat

(1/1 I 2,912 I Mature)

"With a gasp reminiscent of the first breath after a long stint underwater, Stiles lurches into awareness, tilting from entirely reclined on his back to sitting upright. 'Whaaaat…' he trails, almost as if testing the air around him to make sure he can still make sound. At the uncomfortable grunt to his immediate right, he starts, jerking to the side and tugging roughly on a thin stretch of chain lashed around his wrist." ----- Stiles wakes up in a dark room with no memory of how he arrived there handcuffed to Derek Hale, alpha werewolf to another local pack and Stiles’ longtime crush.

Who Let the Dogs Out? by fruchtfliege

(1/1 I 3,414 I General)

5 hours. Stuck in an insanely small, stupid circle. With Derek Hale. Stiles could think of better ways to spend his evening... or maybe not.

Vacancy by nathy06

(1/1 I 6,396 I Explicit)

“You’re still cold,” Derek said. Low. Not annoyed—concerned. “I’m fine,” Stiles mumbled, mostly because 'I’m freezing and too gay for this' didn’t seem like a viable option. There was a pause. Not long. Just enough to feel it. Then: “Turn around.”

Or

Caught in a storm, Derek and Stiles find shelter in a rundown motel—with one bed, soaked clothes, and Stiles shivering from the cold. Derek knows how to warm him up, and maybe it's time they stop pretending it’s just about the weather.

Spellbinding Mishap by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 45,855 I Teen)

Stiles winced, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked over at Derek again. “So... you know how you told me not to touch anything?”

Derek stared at him for a second, not seeming to understand, and then Stiles knew the moment it clicked because his entire face set so concretely it might as well have been carved out of stone.

“What?” Scott asked, looking between them, confused. “What’s going on? I don’t understand. What happened?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said slowly. “So the thing is, I uh, touched something. In the Witch’s house. And Derek came in and grabbed it from me. So he also touched it. And now it uh, it seems like whenever the two of us are a certain distance apart, we start getting sick. Or like, double over in pain. Or, you know, start dying.”

[ninibeingdelulu]

“I can’t say it, but I can show you.”

plot- you and megumi are literal soulmates CLICK ME

The warm caress of the late afternoon sun bathed the quiet residential streets in a burnished amber glow.

A few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the watercolor sky as you strolled hand-in-hand down the gently winding path - shoulders brushing together in a comforting cadence.

A contented smile tugged at the corners of your lips without conscious effort, simply brimming from the pure sense of tranquility and belonging radiating from Megumi's reassuring presence at your side.

For most, the amiable silence blanketing your unhurried amble might have felt stifling or awkward. But for you, it felt like slipping into the most luxurious silken embrace imaginable.

Because in these rare moments of respite away from the pressures of jujutsu duties and expectations, Megumi's reticent stoicism transformed into something far more intimate and soothing than words could convey.

The subtle shift in his powerful physique releasing the last few taut lines of tension thrumming beneath the surface. The rhythmic tandem of your strides unconsciously falling into perfect synced alignment.

Even the seemingly aloof mask etched into his striking features appeared to melt away layer by infinitesimal layer with each passing second - vulnerability beginning to bleed through in the softer sweep of jet-black lashes and the downturn of full lips no longer thinned into such a tense line.

As if basking in the simple freedom to exist as nothing more than two kindred souls finding solace in the uncomplicated solitude they shared.

You allowed your own gaze to drift over and drink in those subtle metamorphoses unraveling across Megumi's striking visage.

The profound lump of affection that swelled fiercely in your chest with each fresh nuance now permitted to shine through in the wake of his carefully constructed defenses crumbling away.

The corner of his eyes crinkled almost imperceptibly as though reveling in the naked rapture undisguised across your own countenance with few words exchanged beyond occasional murmurs and meaningful glances.

And yet every fleeting brush of his thumb slowly circling the back of your knuckles in idle patterns radiated the volumes left unspoken between you across that sacred expanse where your palms and soul prints melded as one.

His arm unconsciously guiding yours closer to his body's unyielding warmth whenever a passing vehicle roared a bit too close to the sidewalk for comfort.

Unobtrusive gestures that still managed to whisper soft as a lovers' caress about the tethers binding your essences in perfect symbiosis.

Nothing felt more precious to you in those suspended moments of stillness - sheltered from the world's harsh realities within this gossamer veil of sublime serenity and unspoken devotion - than to simply bask in the spellbinding ephemera of Megumi's rarefied affections.

No grand declarations or flowery endearments could hope to outshine the transcendent rapture of fully immersing yourself in their quietly smoldering sincerity.

To surrender utterly to the paradox of feeling seen, known, adored down to your most vulnerable essence by this extraordinary man for whom emotional intimacy was arguably more profound than any carnal indulgence or poetic pining could ever achieve.

A love deeper and more resilient than even death's unyielding permanence blazing white-hot at the cores of two souls now navigating the twilight path as perfect mirrors - already eternal by virtue of their unshakable union.

[sayhoneysiren]

WHAT'S UR SEDUCTIVE CHARM

I II III

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welcome sirens! this reading is for entertainment pursposes only based on the downloads i receive. do not attack me if the message doesn’t resonate. keep in mind this is a collective reading, not a individual one. with that being said, enjoy!

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xx HoneySiren xx 🍒

I ~ Your charm is your Elusiveness. You prefer to keep your circle small and don't open up to others easily. It takes effort to get your attention and tie you down, since you have high standards. Many of you may attract athletes or be athletic yourself. People seem to be in awe with your physique. You could enjoy dressing in leather and velvet fabrics.

Underneath your cool exterior you are a very compassionate, sensitive and spiritual person who can be shy at times or have anxiety about being seen. People view your shyness as 'cute' and instantly become somewhat protective over you. In a social setting, you are probably stationed in the corner of the room waiting for others to approach you or surrounded by close people you know.

Your eyes are alluring and can be felt across the room. People yearn to know more about you and what lies behind your enchanting gaze. They question why you're so quiet and to yourself.

When getting to know you, people notice that you are blunt and honest, preferring to cut straight to the point. You can clearly see through players, fakeness and egos and you're not here to entertain the bs. It also surprises people that you are so intelligent, headstrong and charming. But you only open to who you deem worthy.

II ~ Your charm is JE NE SAIS QUOI, Unfamiliar, profound and spellbinding, You are a person of potent power and you know it. Your essence oozes a calm confidence that fascinates and touches everyone around you.

Many may view you as a lone wolf or distinct in the way you present yourself. No one can check you off into any box. Some of you are of a different descent than those around you,

making you seem exotic. People could be enthralled by your accent, voice, unique fashion sense or your culture. You don't care about appearing weird to others. Staying authentic to yourself is most important and by doing this you give others hope, expand their minds and show them that they too can express their truest selves. You take them to another world where they can see themselves with loving eyes.

A glo' up' has been real for some of you and your looks have evolved tremendously. People describe you as a baddie or an it girl. You just have a captivating quality. On top of that, you KNOW how to seduce and don't care about being labeled 'bad'. Some of you embrace the label of the 'bad girl'.

People love taking time to get to know you and you enjoy talking about your big dreams. You don't stay still, always seeking to grow. Therefore always evolving.

III ~ Your charm is the Finesser.

From first glance no one would expect you are a powerful witch. The spell work and affirmations you do helps you manifest things excellently. You are able to see situations for what they are and manipulate it into what you want them to be. You may also be connected to nature and have some unique spiritual tattoos.

You are the undercover player moving in very strategic ways. You’re the type to meet your crush and reverse them to like you. You charm them by playing coquette and get them on your side to do whatever you want. You may use the affirmation "Everything I want wants me more."

You have many different sides to show, but you never reveal your full hand all at once. One day you're innocent then the next day naughty, happy then sad. You always have a one up one people, so things never get dull with you. You may also love to shock and surprise people. 

You're not boastful or afraid of showing vulnerability. You know this works in your benefit and no one suspects you until it's too late. Until they're too far gone under your charm.

People think you're losing but you’re actually winning.

[veejiez]

hey if ur up for it could u write promt 8 of friends to lovers for armin.. but like the reader teaches him how to kiss bc she really wants an excuse to finally kiss him? hehe

KISSING ON THE COUCH.

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン ⋅ fem reader

8 — "I'll teach you to kiss."

NOTE: wheee!! i'm ngl this prompt was made with armin in mind hehe 💗

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.7k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

"Ah, yeah, I mean, kissing is a core part of romance for most people, right? But there's no way I can do that."

Armin's chatting with you in the living room of your parent's house, just like you've always done since you were kids.

"Why? Kissing is pretty fun." you look over at him, drifting from the interleading kitchen over to where he sits slacked on the couch.

He mutters a quick and sweetly Armin-esque thank you under his breath when you hand him a soda. Vanilla Cola, his all-time favorite; he's drank it since he was twelve and didn't intend to stop drinking it.

"But kissing is awkward... you know how my first kiss went." he grimaces at the memory. You let out a breathy laugh, he looks so cute, almost like a drawing of a cute boy rather than a real one.

"Personally, I wouldn't count that as a first kiss. You were, like, what? Thirteen?" you open your own soda with a pop. It fizzes loudly, the bubbles audibly popping.

He opens his own soda, but of course — he does it in such an Armin kind of way. Very delicately pulling the tab back with his very delicate fingertips, as if the metal hurt his sensitive skin. You know he had the worst acne phase out of all your friends, there are faded scars on his cheeks. Rather than mar his beauty, you think they add to it; of course he never believed you when you said that.

"I think I was fourteen. Didn't you have yours when you were — eighteen? Right?" he looks over at you, fingertip circling the soda can lid.

His eyes always get you. They're entrancing. Hypnotizing. Spellbinding. Armin's unaware of the effect he has on girls, but that just makes him even more attractive.

"I did, yes. No need to remind me." you grumble, taking another sip of your soda and coming to a kneel at the coffee table.

You two always sat like that; him lazily on the couch, you on the plush carpet by the coffee table. Always propping your elbow on it, squishing your cheek on one palm. In the middle of a conversation, Armin would mimic your pose just to get a laugh out of you.

"Eighteen isn't too old to have your first kiss. I've told you that before." he reassures.

"Yes it is! Some people have their first kiss when they're little kids."

"But those kisses don't mean anything. They're childish kisses." Armin says.

"What age d'you think people start having adult kisses?" you ask him curiously, setting your soda down on the table.

You watch as Armin looks up in thought for a moment, his hand swiftly wiping some residual soda liquid off his upper lip. How does he make everything so attractive? In fleeting moments like these, you felt a strong urge to kiss him.

I could kiss him. I just need a plan. We're on the subject of kissing already.

You plot your moves like you're playing chess. It really isn't that difficult, but to you it feels like an impossible match.

"I think, adult kisses — eh that's a weird way of saying it — good kisses are after you're eighteen. Or maybe when you've had enough practice? But never mind, I think all the kisses I'll ever have will always be slightly awkward because I don't know what to do." he says.

He glances at you. His heart pangs when you and him make electric eye contact and he looks away. "You know..." he begins, but you cut him off.

"Why don't I teach you to kiss a girl?" you blurt out. "I mean, we're friends. Why not. I mean if you want to. Just a thought..."

He cracks a shy smile, "Just a thought?" he chuckles, then sits up and sets his soda down after a brief moment of thought.

"Alright, teach me." he asks and pats the seat next to him.

You climb up on the couch and settle down into a comfy position next to him — oh, you're very close, he thinks. The proximity makes his heart pang again, he can feel it sharp in his chest. But why? I mean, like you said, you're friends.

Do friends sit on the couch practicing kissing?

"Don't look at me like that." you tease lightly.

He blinks at you, "Like what? Oh, sorry." he giggle and widens his eyes a little. You've scolded him for having bedroom eyes many times, and he's defended that it's not bedroom eyes but rather he just has naturally lidded, sultry eyes.

"So... question." he asks as you lean in. His breath fans your face, it makes your lips tingle. You can smell the Vanilla Cola.

"Hm?"

"Where do I put my hands? Because that's something I've never really understood..."

"Oh... well you can put them anywhere you like."

"Can you guide me?" he asks.

You look at him for a moment. His heart goes wild when you take his hands in yours. Yes you and him have held hands, plenty of times in fact, when you walk around town or when you run down the school corridors or while you explore abandoned buildings.

"Personally... I would want your hands here." you tell him, placing them on your neck, "And if you'd cup the back of my neck like — yeah, like that..."

Was it getting stuffy in here? But there's a good breeze coming in through the open window. Yet you feel like you're choking up. It seems like he is, too.

Warm hands cupping the back of your neck, gentle fingers holding you like a trophy, two big blue eyes staring into your soul.

He pulls you in for a peck. A sweetly awkward one. Your noses bump. Well, now both of you can't stop smiling which makes it hard to do anything.

You lean in for a peck, but it lasts longer than his and — oh my god, he melts. It's history from there. Feeling his best friend's lips sent him to another dimension, as dramatic as that sounds.

He's levitating when you keep pressing teaching kisses to his lips. He loves that you take your time, like you're savoring the taste just like when you sip on your soda.

"Y-you can tilt your head, too, it makes it feel better..." you tell him, a little short of breath.

His head spins a bit at the sensation. His lips are tingly.

"Okay..."

So he tilts his head into the kiss, and holds the back of your neck and slides one hand down and finds your hand. He holds it.

He breaks from the kiss, lips hovering hot over yours, and looks at you through his lashes. "Is this good?"

"Mhm. Really good. You're doing g-good." you assure him.

"Can I keep going?" he asks.

"Yeah..."

So he keeps kissing you, gliding his lips over yours slowly. If anything, he only gets slower. He's really trying to savor it. Like he savors the taste of Vanilla Cola.

Minutes go by, though time dissolved in your minds by now. It was just another meaningless concept. Did past and future exist? Well, did it matter while kissing? No. No it didn't.

You pull away. He blinks and sucks in a breath, bangs lightly ruffled from pressing so close to your forehead. He can taste you on his lips, on his tongue, you're pervading his whole system and he loves it.

"S-so... that's... yeah... any questions?" you laugh, regaining composure quicker than him.

"Huh? What — questions? Yeah... can we do that again?" he asks eagerly.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"What?"

"I just meant... like... keep teaching me. I think I can learn a lot from those lips." he backtracks nervously, Addam's apple shifting a little when he swallows sharply.

"Oh, right... well... y-yeah. Let's keep going then. Why don't you try kissing me now — mmf."

He goes in for it without hesitation. He kisses with his whole body, you can feel a surge of his passion wash over you, and he can feel a surge of tingles across his brain.

There's a lot of serotonin to be farmed from your kisses.

Light smacking sounds, subtle saliva sounds, lips on lips. He's never enjoyed kissing like this. But it's just practice. You're just teaching him so he can kiss... who? Who does he want to kiss? He doesn't have anyone in mind other than you.

He gets lost in it, and without thinking much he nibbles your bottom lip and swipes his tongue across it. You let him poke his tongue in and — well both of you melt harder than before. It's so impossibly soft. No wonder people praised French kissing. But did they ever get French kissed by such a gentle sweetheart like Armin? You were the only one to have that honor.

"Hah... sorry." he pulls away, breathless.

You pant very lightly, " 's okay..." you smile, "I don't mind if you... use tongue. I like it a lot..."

"Okay..." he gulps and then goes right back in to continue.

Weren't you supposed to be teaching him? It feels like that's not necessary, since both of your lips mold together perfectly. You and him are two matching puzzles pieces.

"Y/n?" he breaks from the kiss and looks down at you, hands gently squeezing both your hands now.

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

He slightly smirks, lips glistening with your saliva, "Did you really wanna educate me on kissing, or did you just wanna kiss me?" he asks. Damn that sharp intuition.

"If the latter, how would you feel about that...?" you ask tentatively.

His heart thumps. Throbs. Palpitates. Malfunctions. You look so sweet, he wants to kiss you again and again.

He doesn't answer with words, he just dives back in for a feathery kiss, tangling his body with yours. Hands cupping your cheeks, in a very indescribably Armin kind of way.

He speaks in between each smooch.

" 'shoulda — kissed me — sooner." he mutters, taking a deep inhale as he kisses you harder than before, leaning into your body, cupping your cheeks so comfortably.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[johnbrnlvrogers]

An inari Shinto shrine in a quiet back alley in Ginza, Tokyo, Japan. I went because a tourist had uploaded photos at the wrong location on Google Maps. They had uploaded photos from the spectacular Fushimi Inari-Taisha in Kyoto — the famous mountainside temple with hundreds of torii gates in a row. As I circled the area on foot, between an overpass and some stores and a low-key commercial area, I realised the error, but eventually found this small, well-kept shrine. I lingered for a while with the roar of the city in the background, and saw a businessman stop and pray in that distinctive ritual way: two deep bows, two claps, a short prayer, and than a final bow. It was a spellbinding moment that awoke in me a fascination with Shinto that has persisted ever since.

[yandereunsolved]

In Death & Life

pairing: James Patrick March x fallen angel! gender neutral! reader summary: You preform a necromancy ritual on your fiancé to bring him back from death. The both of you reminisce and connect with each other on the mortal plane. content warning(s): none word count: 675

author's note: Just a short little thing. I lost determination to write it all the way so I gave it a satisfying end.

Ceremonial crimson candles cast an ominous shadow amongst the room that hides the secrets of a killer. The wicks slowly burn towards their inevitable end, the ritual already underway. Room sixty-four lies bare of any of its previous furnishings. A salt ring lies in the middle. Nothing lies within the ring; not even the light from the candles dares to touch it. For it is crowded with the souls of the damned. The demonic entities are praising the one that helps their master rise from his grave.

A bowl of rose water lies right outside the ring. A figure clad in cloth blacker than the hearts of men. A veil covers their face as they mutter ancient incantations only known by a chosen few. They mutter them fervently, almost obsessively. Again and again in a seemingly never-ending loop.

Their knees ache from kneeling for so many hours. Their heart aches more—your heart aches more. Your heart beats for the man you are resurrecting: James Patrick March. Your JPM. Your beloved fiancé. The one you saved from that wretched woman. The Countess may have felt nothing for the darkness, but you feel everything. You slit her neck, and her tower of power crumbled beneath your feet. You filled the hole in his soon-beating chest.

You coat your numbed hands in the rosewater. One of the final steps in his resurrection. Having an affinity for death and necromancy since childhood finally came to fruition. Without his original body, you had to haggle a few souls in the Cortez for a demon to create a new one for him. In that moment, it was all worth it.

You stand as your hand reaches into the salt circle. The shadows receded as the flames of the candles cast them away. The dance between the devils and the darkness intertwined into both of your souls. He calls out to you like a spellbinding siren's song. From the depths of the shadows comes your true love.

His body was exactly that while in his ghost form. His ravenette strands still ever slicked back. The trimmed mustache of his sitting proudly above his top lip. His toned body was proudly suited to those three pieces. His neck slit is now healed, but the scar is apparent.That charming smile, goddesses, it looks even better now. 

"You are reborn as a warlock, my love. Immortal. Alive." Your words are hoarse and barely escape your cracked lips.

Your shaking hands are struggling to listen to the commands that your mind is giving them. Your left thumb barely touches his cheek before he has dragged you across the circle, separating the salt circle and making it incomplete. You couldn't even begin to care, as the ritual is complete. You are held in his deathly, loving grip once again.

"Indeed, darling. I am now the most famous serial killer, both alive and dead." He whispers fervently as he places feather-light kisses on each of your knuckles. "We shall wed in a few days time. Our consummation will finally be with the both of us living."

Your frayed wings and broken halo appear for a single moment. After all, you cannot risk using your abilities too often. Lest the angels hunt you or the devils wish to make deals for your power. Once a mighty angelic being is now only the shell of one. Your wings are nothing more than bone, and your halo floats above your head in pieces. More fragments of your once-heavenly halo chip off and fall every day. Further tethering you to the mortal realm. 

You wrap the bones around his body as tears fall from your otherworldly eyes. His oddly tender hands wipe the tears away. He brings each finger up to his mouth as he tastes your sadness. A pleased smirk appears on his features as he places a teasing kiss on your delicate temple.

"You taste absolutely divine." He purrs gently as he tugs your waist closer towards him. "I cannot wait to taste you even more after our dinner tonight."

[writeformesinpie]

Seokjin x Reader

Walking down the boardwalk – his hand in yours as a gentle breeze caresses your skin and the sun kisses your cheeks – you can’t imagine being anywhere else. He’s pointing at one of the seagulls currently stealing several french fries from a man with thick-rimmed glasses wearing a look of shocked resentment. The man slouches over, covering his food with half his body as several gulls surround him. Another lands, this one on his table. You and Seokjin both giggle as the bird charges at the man who flinches, allowing the seagull to steal more chips as you walk past.

Waves lap perpetually at the wooden beams beneath you, the sound increasing as you make your way towards the end of the pier. Salt lingers in the air; with every breath you taste it on your tongue. Each step unleashes more of the spellbinding view, the ocean stretching out before you, reminding you just how small you truly are.

As if sensing your thoughts, Seokjin pulls you towards him, your back flush against his chest, his hands circling your waist with a happy sigh. His head rests on your shoulder as you both take in the view.

Words pale in comparison to the beauty before you. The world is a masterpiece, no matter how much of it you see it always finds new ways to mesmerise you. Shades of blue, green and white, the rippling waves seem to go on forever, and the sky is equally infinite. There isn't a single cloud in sight.

With Jin by your side every day is as bright as this.

He kisses your neck and whispers, “There’s nothing I love more than being able to share all my moments with you.”

You lean back against his chest, sinking in as you let his strong shoulders bear your worries before releasing them out into the ocean. There’s nothing to worry about because in this moment you have everything you need.

“I love you,” you whisper, a tear trickling down your cheek. He kisses it away and holds you closer. The warmth of the sun and his body combine until you’re left in peaceful bliss.

“I love you more,” he murmurs against your neck. “More than all the fish in the sea.”

You laugh. He’s absurd. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Scary Movies~

hello everyone! so the lovely @inubaki gave me permission to write this based off their lovely art they made for scary movies! i really loved it and wanted to write it out!

hope you all enjoy it!

@adamsappleweek

In the dim, cozy glow of their makeshift blanket fort, Adam and Lucifer were curled up on a nest of soft blankets and quilts, surrounded by a fortress of pillows, cushions, and chairs precariously stacked on top of piles of books. It was the perfect setup for a cozy, eerie night of horror movies. Lucifer was lounging in his favourite oversized, duck-print pyjama shirt, a plush duck tucked tightly in his arms, a precious handcrafted gift from Adam. Meanwhile, Adam, dressed in the black t-shirt and the other half of the pyjama set with the matching duck-print pants, was deeply engrossed in the flickering screen, his horns, gleaming with a mix of black, gold, and a subtle hint of purple, bristling with agitation.

"Lucifer, that—that’s you, isn’t it?" Adam accused, jabbing a finger toward the screen as a shadowy figure whispered sinister promises to Rosemary.

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, bemused. "Me? Darling, I'm hardly involved in every shadowy scheme humans dream up."

He glanced from the screen back to Adam, a smirk teasing his lips. “Besides, I’m far too charming for such—predictable devilry.”

Adam’s eyes were wide, fixated on the television, brow furrowed in suspicion. "That’s what you’d say if you were involved, wouldn’t you? And that guy—he looks so… so suspicious!"

Lucifer sighed, drawing a slow circle on the back of Adam’s hand with one finger. "Love, I’d like to think my own plots would have a touch more flair, wouldn’t you? Honestly—look at those drapes. Dismal.”

Adam huffed, torn between horror and fascination. “It’s not about the drapes! You—you did a deal with her husband or something, I know it. Look how she’s terrified, and you’re just sitting there, sipping tea all smug!”

Lucifer’s smirk widened, glancing at the plush duck in Adam’s lap. "I think he believes me, don’t you?”

He reached out, tickling the duck’s tiny fabric wing. “A duck wouldn’t suspect me of such clichés.”

Adam blanched, clutching the duck protectively.

“He’s not here to negotiate with the Prince of Darkness!” he whispered fiercely, eyes darting back to the screen as the music swelled and shadows crept across Rosemary’s face. He looked to Lucifer, a flash of horror mixed with… disappointment? “I thought you were supposed to be on our side now.”

Lucifer chuckled, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. "I am offended! Do you really think I’d waste my time on some third-rate spellbinding?”

His voice dropped low, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “If I wanted to ensnare someone, I’d hardly go after… housewives. Too easy.”

Adam gulped, whispering as if the movie characters might hear him, “But she didn’t know, Lucifer. They lied to her, just like you—"

He cut off, suddenly doubtful, squeezing his duck tightly. "But you wouldn’t do that, right? You’d… you’d warn me?”

Lucifer let out a theatrical sigh and put his arm around Adam, tugging him close. “My dear Adam, if I were ever to hatch such an elaborate scheme, you would be the first to know. I’d need an audience, after all, wouldn’t I?”

Adam glanced up, eyes narrowing suspiciously, but a little relieved. He muttered something under his breath about trusting Lucifer, turning his attention back to the screen. For a moment, Lucifer let him sink back into the movie. But as the music turned dark again, Lucifer leaned in close to Adam’s ear, voice a sinister whisper.

“Or perhaps… I’m just keeping my plans a secret... for now.”

Adam yelped, popcorn falling to the floor as he spun to face Lucifer, scandalized and flustered.

"See? That’s exactly what I mean! I knew you’d do something like that!" But his voice held a trace of laughter, a reluctant smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

Lucifer simply smiled back, not a bit repentant.

“Oh, come now, Adam. If I were really in league with… them”—he gestured vaguely at the screen—“Do you think I’d be watching horror movies with you and our brave little duck?”

Adam’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he scooped the bowel back up. “No… but next time, warn me if you’re in the movie, alright?”

Lucifer patted Adam’s shoulder with mock seriousness. “I promise, next time we see a film featuring the Prince of Darkness, you’ll be the first to know.”

Adam’s eyes lingered on Lucifer suspiciously for a second more, and then he turned back to the movie, nestling closer into Lucifer’s side, duck plushie clutched tight. Lucifer leaned back, only half-watching the screen, but now completely entertained by the way Adam’s eyes widened at every shadow.

"Run, bitch! RUN!" Adam yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger toward the screen. "Don’t you DARE gaslight her, you slimy piece of—"

Lucifer chuckled and snuggled closer, eyes glinting with amused exasperation as he took in Adam's intense glare.

 "Adam, babe… you know this isn’t real, right?" He tried to reassure him, but Adam was far too invested, his eyes wide with horrified fascination as he screamed encouragement at the terrified protagonist on the screen.

"They’re still married?!" Adam’s voice was a blend of shock and dismay, his gaze snapping to Lucifer with a sudden, fierce suspicion. "Bro… you owe so much damn child support!"

Lucifer choked, his hold on the giant duck plush tightening as his mouth fell open.

"Adam!" he spluttered, scandalized. "It’s just a movie! Rosemary’s Baby is fiction, love. I don’t know any Rosemary. And I definitely didn’t—what did you say? Trade sperm for favours?! I would never!"

Adam’s frown deepened, the fire in his eyes unwavering.

"Yeah, but I see you with your fancy robes and slick words," he muttered, crossing his arms. "It's exactly the kind of scheme you'd pull. I knew there was something off about those horns, Lucifer!"

Lucifer ran a hand over his own horns, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"Adam," he said as gently as he could manage, fighting back laughter. "I’m literally sitting here in a duck pyjamas. Does this look like the outfit of a guy trying to start a family with Rosemary?"

Adam squinted at him, torn between scepticism and the smallest hint of laughter threatening to bubble up. "Don’t play coy with me, Lucifer! I know how devils work—you make deals, charm people, maybe even hand out sperm vouchers or whatever!"

Lucifer was now shaking with laughter, clutching his duck plush tighter as Adam shot him a suspicious glare.

 "Adam, I don’t even know Rosemary!" he insisted, unable to keep a straight face. "I don’t think I’ve ever handed out so much as a coupon, let alone—" he stifled another laugh, "a sperm voucher!"

Adam huffed and turned back to the screen, arms crossed, mumbling under his breath. "Guess it’s a good thing you have the decency to stick around here with me and… explain yourself. If I believe you."

Lucifer grinned and gave Adam a peck on the cheek. "Sweetheart, I’d never abandon you for some random woman in a creepy apartment building—especially not one with… baby-making intentions."

Adam threw a cushion at him, finally breaking into laughter.

"Alright, alright, maybe I got a little carried away." But as he glanced back at the screen, he muttered, "Just so you know, I’m still watching you, dude."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, grinning, as he pulled Adam closer. The fort cocooned them in warmth and laughter as the unsettling soundtrack continued in the background.

Lucifer tilted his head, a playful glint sparking in his eyes.

“Adam, babe,” he purred, leaning in closer until his lips were just an inch from Adam’s ear. “If I were ever going to try for a demonic offspring, you’d be the one I’d choose. Who says I couldn’t defy a few rules… make you the one to carry my little hellspawn?”

Adam’s face went crimson, his eyes wide as saucers.

“W-what?!” he sputtered, scooting back as far as the pillow fort walls would allow, nearly upsetting the precarious stack of books holding it all up.

But Lucifer just grinned wider, inching closer to Adam’s retreating form.

“You heard me.” His fingers trailed teasingly up Adam’s arm. “Forget Rosemary. If I was trading anything for dark favours, it’d be with you. After all…”

He gave Adam a slow, hungry look, “There’s no one more devilishly perfect.”

Adam sputtered, throwing up his hands as Lucifer’s fingertips trailed up his chest.

Adam’s face turned as red as a fire hydrant, his mouth dropping open as Lucifer’s words sank in. “W-wait… you’d—make me what?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Lucifer’s grin widened, inching closer to Adam’s retreating form, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I could probably arrange it. You, me, a little magic… who’s to say we couldn’t defy nature? I bet we’d have the cutest little hellspawn.”

Adam practically threw himself backward into the pillows, arms flailing as he struggled to get some distance. “Lucifer! You can’t just—say stuff like that! Do I look like a—like a damn demon daycare?!”

Lucifer gave a soft, amused hum, shifting forward to close the gap as he leaned over Adam. “You’re right; you’d be much too cute to just watch over one.” His finger traced down Adam’s jaw, his smirk deepening. “But for real… if I were to hand out any, ahem, favors for baby-making purposes, it’d be with you. You’re the only one I’d even consider.”

Adam was now half-laughing, half-gasping, his cheeks still pink as he shook his head. “You’re ridiculous! First Rosemary, now me? Seriously, how many favors are you out there trading?” His tone was teasing, though he found himself unable to fully escape Lucifer’s intense gaze.

Lucifer laughed, his voice rich and warm. “Only one—because you, my dear Adam, are absolutely irreplaceable. And I’ve already pledged my eternal allegiance, remember?” He nuzzled into Adam’s cheek, brushing his lips just below his ear. “I don’t need a movie to prove that to you.”

Adam’s resolve melted a little under that gentle touch, and he finally rolled his eyes, muttering, “Okay, fine, fine… but if you do make any deals, I better be the first to know.”

“Oh, you’ll know, love.” Lucifer gave him a soft peck on the cheek, wrapping his arms around him in a firm embrace as they settled back into their cozy fort, still wrapped in pillows, plushies, and each other.

Adam let out a loud laugh, nudging him. As they cuddled closer, he muttered, “Just… no more baby-making plots, alright?”

Lucifer smirked, giving him a final, teasing glance. “I make no promises.”

“Fine, fine!” Adam finally caved, cheeks flushed as he laughed. “Okay, I get it—you’re incorrigible. And stop with that face!”

Lucifer chuckled, reaching over to grab Adam’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Alright, love. Shall we get more popcorn and prepare for the next terrifying flick?” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just promise me you won’t take this one quite so personally.”

Adam snorted, nudging him with his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it’s my turn to pick, you instigator.”

He narrowed his eyes, his suspicion not entirely gone. “It’s still awfully suspicious that you picked Rosemary’s Baby to start with…”

Lucifer let out an exaggerated pout, puffing his cheeks. “I just wanted to give us the proper spooky vibe!”

He raised his hand, snapping his clawed fingers as a soft shimmer of golden magic filled the blanket fort. Instantly, a massive bowl of sweet and salty popcorn appeared between them, the aroma filling the small space.

Adam’s mouth watered as he reached for a handful, popping a piece into his mouth. “Fine. But next time, don’t pick something so weirdly on-brand, alright?”

Lucifer grinned, plucking a piece of popcorn and tossing it into the air, catching it deftly in his mouth. “Then make sure you’re ready for the next movie. Think you can handle it, Mr. Scaredy Demon?”

Adam rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged at his lips.

“Oh, please. I’ll show you how it’s done. But this time, no creepy baby drama.” He nudged Lucifer again, cozying up with him as they settled in for the next round of frights.

Adam scrolled through the horror selection, finally landing on a devil-themed movie that looked just the right amount of creepy and campy. With a smirk, he selected it, settled back into the mountain of cushions, and stretched out, instantly feeling Lucifer wriggle his way into his arms, clutching his giant duck plushie close.

Lucifer squinted at the title on the screen and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really, Adam?” He nuzzled into his shoulder, giving him an exaggerated pout. “Any particular reason you picked a movie about the devil?”

Adam’s smirk widened as he shrugged, casually tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “No reason at all.”

“Uh-huh,” Lucifer muttered, clearly unconvinced. He grabbed his own handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth, his eyes narrowing playfully as he caught Adam’s glance.

As the movie unfolded, Adam’s amused expression grew, and he propped his hand up to cup his cheek, watching the screen with barely veiled hilarity.

“Wait, hold on…” he murmured, half-lidded eyes sparkling. “The giveaway here is… sunny-side-up eggs?”

Lucifer bristled, tossing a glare Adam’s way. “Shut up, Adam! It’s not supposed to be me on screen, alright?”

“Oh, no judgment here,” Adam chuckled, glancing down at Lucifer with a smirk. “Though if you ask me, Heaven could take a few notes on that… classic devil egg move.”

Lucifer huffed and buried his face deeper into his duck plushie, hiding a smile. “Say another word and I’ll bite you!”

Adam raised an eyebrow, looking back to the screen with mock seriousness. “Alright, fine. Though if I hear one more line about the ‘sunny-side-up giveaway,’ I’m renaming this movie Ass-Demon of the Face.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened with outrage, and before Adam knew it, he’d leaned up to nip at his chin, sending Adam into a snickering fit. Lucifer grinned mischievously, his teeth grazing just enough to make Adam squirm.

“Alright, alright, point taken!” Adam laughed, pulling Lucifer even closer. “Now shhh. Let’s see if this ‘Devil Egg Mastermind’ can actually scare us.”

With a satisfied huff, Lucifer nestled back into Adam’s arms, content to let the movie run its course… though his fingers traced light patterns on Adam’s arm, promising that he wasn’t quite done teasing for the night.

As the credits rolled on Devil Egg Mastermind (Adam’s newly dubbed title), Adam let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms in mock disappointment.

“That wasn’t scary at all,” he pouted, shaking his head. “Guess even demons don’t know their way around a good horror film.”

Lucifer gave him a playful nudge.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” he declared, his eyebrows drawing together as he started scrolling through the horror selection. “If you want scary, I’ll show you scary.”

But it didn’t take long for Lucifer to falter, his usual confidence melting into a moment of uncertainty. After all, he didn’t exactly have a history with movies himself.

But one classic title caught his eye, and he grinned, feeling oddly proud. “Alright, let’s see if you can handle The Shining.”

The movie started, and almost immediately, both of them were sucked in, leaning forward as the unsettling music set the tone and Jack Torrance’s spiral into madness began. The strange, looming atmosphere of the hotel grew with every passing moment, and they both watched, wide-eyed, barely breathing.

“Oh, hell no!” Adam whispered as Danny wheeled down a silent, ominous hallway, the sound of his Big Wheel echoing through the empty corridors. And then… the camera panned, and there they were: the two girls in those eerie pink dresses, standing motionless.

“Holy shit!” Adam gasped, hands flying to his face, while Lucifer clutched his giant duck plushie tightly, his eyes widening in horror.

“No, no, no, Danny!” Lucifer’s voice wavered with genuine concern as he squeezed his plushie so hard its beak flattened. “My poor baby! Don’t look at them!”

“Don’t do it! Don’t play with them!”

The scene continued, and as the girls invited Danny to “Come play with them forever and ever,” Lucifer and Adam both squeezed their eyes shut, only daring to peek through their fingers. Adam let out a relieved breath when Danny fled the scene, grabbing onto Lucifer's arm as though he were holding him back from bolting.

They barely had a moment to collect themselves before the infamous elevator scene began. The doors creaked open, and they both stared, horrified, as blood gushed out, flooding the hallway in a wave of crimson.

“NOPE!” Adam cried, covering his eyes, while Lucifer gave an actual yelp, pressing his face into his duck plushie to avoid looking.

“WHY is this happening?” Lucifer groaned. “They’re elevators! What’s next, the lamps start bleeding?”

Adam peeked through his fingers, grinning despite himself. “The lamps bleeding is nothing. Just wait till Jack loses it with that axe.”

“Oh, fantastic. Bloody elevators, haunted twins, and now a psycho dad,” Lucifer muttered, shaking his head. But despite his words, he found himself watching with an intense, horrified fascination, half-hidden behind his plushie.

Soon enough, Jack was well into his descent into madness, and Adam was utterly absorbed, leaning forward as Jack muttered about “all work and no play.” He watched, transfixed, as the story turned more terrifying by the minute, only tearing his gaze away to glance at Lucifer’s wide-eyed expression, making him snicker softly.

“Don’t laugh!” Lucifer hissed, his cheeks flushed as he tried to hide his tension. “This is serious horror!”

By the time Jack began stalking through the hotel with an axe, both of them were completely on edge, every creak and clang on screen making them jump. Lucifer clutched Adam’s arm, gripping tighter each time Jack got closer to his family.

“Here’s Johnny!” Jack crowed, and Adam and Lucifer both shrieked, instinctively clutching each other, bracing for what came next.

When the credits finally rolled, they sat in stunned silence for a moment, still clutching each other, hearts racing. Adam broke the silence with a shaky laugh. “Okay. You win. That was real horror.”

Lucifer let out a shaky breath, giving a relieved smile. “Told you. But, uh… maybe next time, we pick something a little less... psychotic?”

Adam chuckled, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Agreed. But first…” He summoned his courage and grinned. “You’re ready for the sequel, right? Doctor Sleep?”

Lucifer groaned, hugging his duck plushie tighter, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Fine. But only if we stock up on popcorn... and you hold me this time!”

As Doctor Sleep began, the blanket fort was alive with a renewed, eager energy. Adam and Lucifer settled in, popcorn within arm’s reach, their eyes fixed on the screen as they watched the story unfold from that creepy Shining legacy.

When grown-up Danny appeared, looking world-weary yet somehow peaceful, Lucifer let out an immediate, adoring coo.

“Aww, look at him! Little Danny’s all grown up,” he murmured, squeezing his duck plushie affectionately. “I just want to give him a warm meal and a nice nap.”

Adam grinned, nudging Lucifer. “Right? He’s so sweet! But also, look at him. He’s been through hell and back… and now he has to face all this crap again.”

He sighed, knowing well the feeling of life just never letting you catch a break.

Then, Rose the Hat entered, her eerie charm filling the screen as she set out on her wicked mission. Adam watched her with wide, fascinated eyes, his expression a mix of awe and horror. “Oh, she’s… awful.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I kind of love how terrible she is. Like, she’s that perfect mix of ‘please, someone punch her’ and ‘okay, maybe she’s got some style.’”

Lucifer made a face, clearly unimpressed. “Style? Adam, she’s stealing people’s souls, children’s souls like it’s some twisted hobby! Ugh.”

 He shook his head, scowling. “How does she still wear that hat like she thinks she’s the main character?”

Adam chuckled, casting a glance at Lucifer. “You’re so jealous of that hat. Look at you.”

“Jealous?!” Lucifer practically sputtered, crossing his arms defensively. “I am offended, truly. I’d never stoop to top-hat levels of villainy.”

He shot a disdainful look at the screen, muttering, “She’s got nothing on my horned charm…or my top hat.”

They continued watching, both horrified and riveted as Rose and her crew pursued Danny and young Abra. Adam clutched Lucifer’s arm, his face torn between admiration for Abra’s courage and anger at Rose’s cruelty.

 “She’s so vicious! Ugh, I want Danny and Abra to destroy her.”

Lucifer nodded fiercely. “Absolutely. I mean, she’s after a kid—that’s just disgusting. And that whole soul-sucking ritual? It’s too much.”

“Even for me.” He huffed, clutching his plushie. “Someone needs to take her and that ridiculous hat down.”

As the tension on screen escalated, Danny finally faced off against Rose in the Overlook Hotel, bringing all the horrors of the past back to life. Adam’s eyes were glued to the screen, and he could barely contain his excitement.

“YES, Danny! Show her what a real Shining looks like!” He pumped a fist in the air, then leaned forward as Danny began summoning the ghosts of the hotel.

Lucifer watched, half hiding his face in his plushie. “Oh, this is satisfying. Go, Danny!”

His face softened as he watched Danny confront his fears, rooting for him with every ounce of his demon heart. “He’s come so far. It’s… kind of inspiring, actually.”

When Rose finally met her match, both of them let out a victorious cheer, high-fiving each other in triumph. Adam smirked, finally relaxing back against the pillows. “That’s what you get, Rose the Hat! Consider this your eviction notice from the Overlook.”

Lucifer chuckled, laying his head on Adam’s shoulder. “And Danny gets his peace. Finally.”

He sighed contentedly, nuzzling closer. “But, honestly, if Rose hadn’t been so obnoxious with that hat, I wouldn’t have minded the movie as much. Doctor Sleep did not disappoint.”

Adam snickered. “Maybe next time you can pick a villain with less questionable fashion sense.”

He gave Lucifer a light punch on the arm, grinning. “But you know what? I kind of enjoyed hating her together with you.”

Lucifer smiled, wrapping his arms around him. “Same here, love. As long as I’ve got you, even the creepiest movie nights turn out perfect.”

They settled in under the blanket fort, adjusting the pillows and cushions as The Nun started. The dark, looming shadows and ominous whispers filled the screen, setting a creepy atmosphere, but only a few minutes in, Lucifer’s expression started to sour, his lips twisting in visible annoyance. Adam caught on immediately.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Adam nudged him, trying to stifle a smirk at Lucifer’s look of utter distaste. “You look like someone just insulted your favourite demon band.”

Lucifer let out an irritated huff, puffing his cheeks and crossing his arms. “That nun—what’s his name again? Valium?”

“Valak,” Adam corrected, laughing a little as he eyed the screen. “Yeah, Valak the Nun. What about him?”

Lucifer made a low sound of annoyance from the back of his throat. “Doesn’t he look like someone we know?”

Adam tilted his head, studying the ghostly nun’s face on the screen. “Actually… now that you mention it…”

He squinted, eyes widening as he suddenly recognized what Lucifer was getting at. “Oh my god, he does look like somebody!”

With a deep, dramatic sigh, Lucifer reached over and switched off the TV with a swipe of his hand. The screen blinked to black, and the room fell into sudden silence.

Adam gasped, sitting up and blinking in surprise.

“Hey! Why’d you turn it off? You never quit a movie before it’s over.” He paused, staring at Lucifer’s pouty expression before understanding dawned. “Oh no. Ohhhhh no.”

A grin spread across Adam’s face. “Are you saying Valak reminds you of… him?”

Lucifer buried his face in his hands, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Yes! That annoying, grinning radio demon always buzzing around Charlie. Valak’s got that same smug, sinister face.”

Adam burst into laughter, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh, that’s priceless! And here I thought nothing could get under your skin.”

He leaned over, giving Lucifer a nudge. “But wow, you must really hate that demon, huh?”

Lucifer huffed, flopping onto Adam’s lap with an air of wounded pride.

“It’s not hate. It’s… professional rivalry. You wouldn’t understand. He’s got that same ‘trying-too-hard-to-be-scary’ vibe,” he grumbled, his voice muffled against Adam’s shirt.

Adam tried his hardest not to laugh, his fingers playing through Lucifer’s hair soothingly. “So, you’re saying that he’s Valak-level annoying? That’s a new low, babe.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes playfully, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Don’t get smart with me. You’re the one who dragged me into watching all these… poser demons.”

“Fine, fine.” Adam stroked his hair, grinning down at him. “You know, it’s kinda cute that the supposed ‘Lord of Darkness’ has arch-nemeses in horror films. Valak the Nun, and the Radio Demon. Who’s next on the list?”

Lucifer groaned but managed a grin. “Keep it up, and I’ll make you the next one on my list.”

Adam laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “Oh, you’d miss me too much.”

Lucifer let out an exaggerated sigh, but he didn’t argue, instead curling closer into Adam’s lap as they both settled into comfortable silence.

n the dim glow of their blanket fort, shadows and warmth wrapping them like a second quilt, Lucifer rolled over with a barely-there sound, his hand brushing against Adam’s arm.

“Adam… are you asleep?” he whispered, his voice softened by the quiet.

Adam stirred, blinking sleepily before turning to face him.

"Hey… you okay?" His voice held a hint of worry as he took in Lucifer’s expression—a strange mix of discomfort and vulnerability.

Lucifer’s face shifted through a few expressions, from frustration to hesitation, until finally, he murmured, “I can’t sleep.”

Adam let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face him fully. "Wait, are you saying… you’re scared? Of a movie? Come on, aren’t they pretty much all about you?”

Lucifer’s cheeks tinted ever-so-slightly as he buried his face against Adam’s chest, trying to stifle a groan.

“No! Of course not! I mean, I—" He paused, his tone lowering to a murmur. "Maybe… maybe a little bit?”

Adam wrapped his arms around Lucifer, pulling him closer, letting him nestle into his chest. "So, you’re telling me that the great Lucifer Morningstar, the supposed King of Hell, can’t sleep because of a few movies?”

He stroked a gentle hand over Lucifer’s hair, the golden strands catching a glint of the soft light. “Don’t worry, love. It’s just movies. Plus, they don’t even do you justice.”

Lucifer sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts heavy as he tucked his face closer against Adam.

"Do… do humans really see me like that? As some deranged, monstrous thing that just wants to hurt people?” His voice was barely above a whisper, a hint of something achingly sad lingering in his tone.

Adam blinked, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected that question, and his mouth opened and closed a few times as he searched for the right words.

“Lucifer…” He held him tighter, gently brushing his fingers through Lucifer’s hair. “They don’t know you, not like I do. They see… what they’re told to see. Stories passed down and warped over time.” He could feel the slight tremble in Lucifer’s shoulders and moved closer, wrapping him tighter in his arms.

Lucifer let out a shaky breath, a trace of vulnerability peeking through the usually unbreakable confidence.

“But that’s all of mankind, Adam. Hundreds of years. All that time, and they only know me as something to fear, to hate…” His voice caught for a moment, and he forced a soft, hollow laugh. “I’m not even close to the monster they think I am, yet… it doesn’t seem to matter, does it?”

Adam pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along Lucifer’s shoulder. “Hey, they don’t see you like I do. All they know are stories—stories made to scare people. You’re just the shadow they cast their fears onto. If they saw you for real, they’d see… well, this.”

He gave him a squeeze. “The guy who cuddles duck plushies and builds blanket forts. The guy who can’t sleep because he’s so much more human than he even realizes.”

Lucifer sniffled a little, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Adam replied firmly. He tilted Lucifer’s chin up to meet his gaze, his eyes soft and full of warmth. “You’re nothing like those movies make you out to be. You’re so much more.”

He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss across Lucifer’s brow. “So just… be here, with me, and let the rest go.”

Lucifer’s smile widened, his eyes softening as he looked back at Adam.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the hush of the night. “For seeing me.”

“Always,” Adam whispered, holding him even closer as they drifted off, the shadows of stories past fading into nothingness around them.

As the warmth of the moment enveloped them, Adam and Lucifer settled deeper into each other, the world outside their cozy blanket fort fading away. The soft sounds of their breathing mingled, creating a gentle rhythm that lulled them closer to sleep. Adam nuzzled his face into Lucifer’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of warm spices and faint hints of mischief, while Lucifer shifted slightly, his body relaxing against Adam’s warmth.

Just as they began to drift into the comforting embrace of slumber, a soft patter of tiny paws echoed through the fort. A small, fluffy black cat with one striking green eye and one adorable empty socket peeked in, his tiny head bobbing with curiosity. With an adorable bounce in his step, the cat paddled across the mountains of blankets, his tail held high in the air like a proud flag.

Adam stirred slightly, blinking sleepily as he noticed their little companion. “Look who decided to join us,” he murmured, a smile spreading across his face.

Lucifer cracked an eye open, his features softening at the sight of their one-eyed feline, affection bubbling up inside him.

“Oh, our little demon spawn,” he said with a teasing lilt, watching as the cat made himself at home, curling up snugly between them. The cat let out a soft purr, vibrating contentedly against the blankets.

“Look at him,” Adam chuckled, reaching down to scratch the cat’s chin. “He’s like a tiny, fluffy cuddle monster.”

Lucifer couldn’t help but grin, feeling the weight of the day melt away as he watched Adam interact with their pet.

“He’s the only one who can compete with my charm,” he teased, rolling onto his back, allowing the cat to nestle comfortably against his side.

The little black cat settled in, his purring growing louder, creating a soothing backdrop to the quiet atmosphere of the fort. Adam laughed softly, leaning down to kiss the top of the cat’s head.

“Just another member of the family,” he said, glancing at Lucifer with a warmth that sent a flutter through him.

As they all snuggled closer, the fort cocooned them in a world of warmth and comfort. Lucifer shifted again, pulling Adam in tighter as the three of them formed a cozy, sleepy heap.

“I suppose we’ve got a little hellion to keep us company,” he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

“Just what we needed,” Adam replied, a soft smile playing on his lips. “A one-eyed guardian to watch over us while we sleep.”

With that, the trio nestled into the blankets, the rhythm of their hearts synchronizing with the purring cat, forming a small universe of warmth, laughter, and love. Outside, the world was dark and filled with shadows, but within the safety of their blanket fort, everything felt right. As sleep began to claim them, the last flickers of light danced in the corners of their cozy sanctuary, and the faintest whisper of laughter lingered in the air.

[dyvimwhitehart]

old campaigns

He takes a moment before speaking again. She assumes he’s thinking of a way to talk her off this ledge she’s walked onto. “You have accomplished more for my people in a matter of months than our forces have in years. How can you say you aren’t a hero?” or, The Wizard and Dyvim Whitehart reflect on their journey through Fort Rachias, leading to a discussion about the world the Wizard visited prior to Khrysalis. READ ON A03 FOR ADDITIONAL COMMENTS.

The Dying Star Stone is warm in her hands. 

It emits a soft purple glow, illuminating the otherwise dark room she finds herself in. She stares at it for so long that when she shuts her eyes, she sees spots. Said spots intensify when she pushes her wrist against the left side of her face, near the socket. 

As exhausted as she is, Amber can’t find it in her to rest. To sleep.

Its been two weeks now since the fall of Fort Rachias. As strange as it is to say, the feeling throughout Bastion is almost… jubilant. The tale of Ghost Dog’s defeat has been spread far and wide, though it mutates as it goes, insisting upon itself until large chunks of it become completely fabricated. Whatever keeps morale up, Amber tells herself. All that matters is that she has the Star Stone. That she can continue on, whenever the Council of Light decides it's time to do so.

If there was ever a time to rest, though, it’s now. King Pyat has been kind enough to move her into a room in the palace, one that’s undergone some refurbishment to make it comfortable. But instead of laying in bed, Amber sits in the alcove by the window, forehead leant against the pane. 

There’s still no moon in Khrysalis; just smoggy green sky, shadowy clouds circling like water down a drain. She keeps the curtain pulled as far out as it’ll go, but it’s still slightly torn, giving her a partial view of the outside. 

Amber holds the stone close, cradling it as if it has a heartbeat. She wishes she could just go. 

She doesn’t know what Ambrose is waiting for. Zaltanna and the Burrowers all seem poised to move, to send her across the Starfall Sea, but they don’t rush the time they have with her either. They’ve all mentioned something about how nice it must be to have a break. That, or how she’s earned one, which doesn’t feel right. 

Khrysalis is still very much at risk. She doubts Morganthe, from all the way across the world, is being just as unproductive as she is. 

It makes her crazy. She wasn’t built for this lethargy. Even when she’d take breaks between worlds, she’d make herself busy in Wizard City or elsewhere. There’s plenty to do across this end of Khrysalis, but it all pales in comparison to the main task at hand. 

The motion of her forehead sliding slightly down the glass makes a squeaking sound that snaps her out of her daze. Amber shakes her head, setting the stone down on the bench beside her. As she does so, she hears the unmistakable sound of armor clanking from the hallway. 

For a moment, she sits completely still, eyes zeroed in on her door. Then, against her better judgment, she finds herself on her feet. 

It could be any knight. She’s at the palace, for Raven’s sake, it could be any knight—

“Spellbinder?” 

Dyvim stands about seven feet from her door, which only barely obstructs her from where it’s swung open. Upon realizing that it is in fact her, he turns around fully, face softening. 

“Hi,” she says rather unintelligently. And then that’s all she says. 

“Are you alright?” 

His voice is warm— not at all silly and stunted like she must sound right now. Amber drums her fingers against the door, deliberating. 

“I heard something. Out here,” 

“Oh, well, that was just… me. I’ve finished my post for the night,” 

“Oh,” she nods. “Good to know.” 

The silence that ensues feels like it’s only awkward on her end. She continues fidgeting, wanting nothing more now than to shut the door and stick her head in a pillow. Dyvim, on the other hand, has stepped a tad closer, nose twitching. 

“Is there anything else you need?” 

“No, no, I don’t.” 

“Not even someone to sit with?” 

She blinks, surprised by his boldness. “You aren’t going to sleep?” 

“Well, considering it will be morning in about an hour or so, I was planning on sitting outside and watching the sun come up,” 

“You can’t…” 

He smiles, a tinge of sadness in it. “I like to pretend. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to, but until then, it gives me a spot of hope.” His ear twitches and he takes another step forward. “So? Will you join me?” 

Amber looks down at the floor, heat rising in her cheeks. If you’d asked her what time it was, she would have said a short while after midnight, not an hour ‘till morning elsewhere. How long had she been sitting in the alcove, begging for sleep? 

At the sound of his armor shifting, she composes herself. So much more has shaken her so much less. 

“Let me grab something first,” 

---

With a robe over her sleep clothes, she wraps the Star Stone in the excess fabric and joins Dyvim on a balcony protruding from the back of the castle. 

The roar of the waterfalls surrounding the far end of Bastion are at their loudest here. Not enough to nullify their voices, but enough to remind her of the last place she was with waterfalls this grand. She thinks she’ll miss the Cloudburst Forest for the rest of her life. 

Dyvim has laid out a blanket for them to sit on, as well as a small plate of cheese. She eyes it curiously as she sits and fans out her robe around her. 

“Have you eaten?” he asks her. 

“Since…?” 

“Let me rephrase that, then. Are you hungry, Spellbinder?” 

“You had a long watch,” 

“Nonsense,” he pushes the platter closer towards her. “Please. I insist,” 

Amber takes a piece (on the tinier side) to appease him. It’s not until she tastes the smoky undertone of the cheese that she realizes just how long its been since she’s had a meal. After that, she reaches for another. 

“What is it you’ve got there?” he asks. 

At first, she looks at the extra piece she’s picked up. Then, she realizes that the Star Stone, still glowing, is giving her face a sweet pink spotlight. 

“The Star Stone,” she says, mouth slightly full. Once she swallows, she adjusts the stone in her hands to further reveal it to him. As a result, the glow begins to hit him too. “I don’t really know why. I just don’t want it out of my sight, I guess,” 

“That makes sense. We did go through quite a bit of trouble to get our hands on it, yes?” 

She laughs mirthlessly. “We did,” 

They take a moment to admire the stone, the power radiating off of it growing stronger after a moment of consideration. Dyvim clears his throat, his ear twitching again. 

“I wish the king would let me accompany you across the Starfall Sea,” 

Amber blinks. Would he not be? The thought never occurred to her. Just as she never imagined questing with him prior to doing so, she assumed she wouldn’t be going on without him now. It makes sense, though, if she sits and mulls over it. He’s the king’s sworn sword, the most noble son of Bastion— of course his obligations would fall on this side of the sea. 

It isn’t like she can’t handle herself. It’s just kind of nice to have someone to talk to. 

That’s a sentimentalist’s way of looking at things, though, and sentimentalist doesn’t mix well with “world saver.” So instead of asking Why not? or What if I spoke to him?, she says: 

“Your people need you. I couldn’t ask to pull you away from Bastion, not now,” 

“I suppose,” he says. “Us Burrowers aren’t exactly a seafaring people anyways,” 

“I have no doubt you could do it, I just think you’re needed here,” 

“No doubt, eh?” 

She quirks a brow, breaking another piece of cheese in half to chew on. “You handled yourself quite well in Fort Rachias,” 

“I would hope so, considering my station,” 

They chuckle, briefly glancing at one another before their eyes dart elsewhere. Amber clears her throat, taking a breath as she glances up at the sky. The green smog continues to drain into the rest of the Spiral. 

“You kept my spirits up,” 

His ears perk at that. “I’m glad to hear it, Spellbinder. I know I can be a bit gung-ho, but that’s just because…” 

“You care,” she finishes, nodding. 

“When I heard Magalia calling for help. When I saw… all those relics from worlds beyond this one. That trophy room,” He shivers, fists clenching and unclenching. His gaze wanders to the glow of the Star Stone. “I couldn’t help but think that this world— what it once was, when my people ruled— could join that despicable wall of conquests,” 

Amber remembers the room he’s referring to well. His horror had been palpable, especially against Zarozinia the Deathsong’s indifference. The trophies in the room served as a recap of some of her past missions. There were golden tusks from Zafarian royalty, tombs with blue engraving from the Krokosphinx… even dragon skulls nestled in Dragonspyrian-looking cases. “Old campaigns,” she’d called them. 

They were nothing of interest to the Umbra Legion, but to the denizens of Azteca, for example… 

Amber shudders. If she squints, the sickly color of the sky resembles that of the fallen world’s once chunks of the dread Xibalba began to rain down. There was a stone Aztecosaur head in the trophy room. It was displayed at the center, highest pedestal, like they were proudest of it. Like they knew this endeavor, unlike the others, had been a unanimous success for the Shadow. 

“Knowing the havoc they’ve wrought here, that they’ve taken it elsewhere… it makes my blood boil,” Dyvim continues. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to stop them. I’d fight a thousand Fort Rachias’ if I had to,” 

She swallows thickly, shutting her eyes. If she had more sleep, maybe it would be easier to keep herself composed. 

Everywhere she goes, she sees Azteca. She feels the weight of her failure. She sits, twiddling her thumbs, wondering how she’ll possibly cope if Khrysalis meets a similar fate. Hopefully, if such a scenario takes place, it will be quick. She won’t even feel it. 

“Spellbinder?” 

There’s worry tinging his voice. Would he still have such confidence in her if he knew she’d failed the last world she was tasked with helping? 

“I’m sorry,” Amber murmurs. 

Like a zombie, she shambles to her feet, leaving the Star Stone beside him. She walks until she meets the railing, slumping over the side far enough to feel the mist from the waterfalls cool her face. The roaring noise blocks everything out, including the sound of armor moving as the Burrower knight rises to join her. 

“Please forgive me,” he says after a moment. “I didn’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories.” 

Amber shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. It can’t be pleasant for you either,” 

“Still, I know all you hear is talk of the Shadow Queen and the end of the Spiral. This was supposed to be a chance to unwind. Could we try and start over?” 

A gust of wind blows, growing with strength within the space between the palace and the mountain. Her hair whips all across her face. Any attempt to fix it is futile. Any attempt to fix it is futile. 

She turns to look at him, still halfway leant against the stone. A beat. 

“I’m not who you think I am,” 

Dyvim blinks. His nose twitches. “What? What do you mean?” 

“I’m not the hero you think I am. I’m not the hero Khrysalis needs. I can’t be who the prophecies talk about,” 

There’s a glimmer of relief in his eyes that makes her feel worse. Amber turns away from him, now fighting the urge to clamber over the edge of the balcony and plunge into the pool below. 

He takes a moment to speak again. She assumes he’s thinking of a way to talk her off this ledge she’s walked onto. 

“You have accomplished more for my people in a matter of months than our forces have in years. How can you say you aren’t a hero?” 

“A hero, maybe, but not the hero. I’m not sure I can dispel Morganthe from your world.” she sucks in a sharp breath. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. It’s just, if I can’t…” 

She remembers how shocked she was when it really hit her that there was no way to prevent Xibalba from colliding with Azteca. She’d never lost before. There had to be some last ditch effort, some deus ex machina— some kind of kill switch she hadn’t uncovered yet. Surely Grandmother Raven or some divine force would appear and reveal it to her. Never once had she felt so alone, so helpless. 

That surprise went on to fester in her gut and make her sick. Sitting on a bench in Ravenwood, overlooking the chasm that was once the Death School, she asked herself how she could have grown so complacent. So used to winning. 

If she hadn’t, maybe the people of Azteca would be here today, aiding those in Khrysalis from afar. 

“Why do you say that?” Dyvim asks. She can hear in his voice that he’s sorry for doing so. Amber looks to the sky. 

“One of the relics in the trophy room belonged to a world called Azteca,” 

She waits a beat to hear if he’s heard of it. When he doesn’t speak, she continues. 

“Do you remember when… one of the first nights we were camping in the Moon Cliffs, I told you about a place called Cloudburst Forest?” 

“Of course I do. Your eyes just lit up when you talked about it,” he smiles tentatively and gestures to their surroundings. “It had grand waterfalls and flowers that glowed like fireflies. That was the last world you visited,” 

“That was the last world I was sent to. It was Azteca. And everywhere I went in Azteca, Morganthe was also there, a full step ahead of me, collecting tokens for herself like the one that we saw,” she shuts her eyes, bringing a hand to her chest as she remembers the forest. It’s just as he described it, meaning she hasn’t yet forgotten its beauty. “And by the time I caught up with her…” 

She can sense something click in his mind, then. He steps closer to place a stabilizing hand on her arm. Amber finishes her thought anyway, having to say it out loud for her own peace of mind. 

“...it was too late. There was nothing I could do,” 

It was something akin to a premonition, brought on by her mastery of Necromancy. Even as she stood on Xibalba’s icy surface, she could feel the weight of the dead. She could sense the magnitude of the loss. 

She can’t bear to look at him now. She rests her arms atop the stone, and then her forehead atop them. 

“Amber,” 

An immediate lump wells up in her throat. She swallows it back. The mist is cold, but his voice is like honey. 

“I’m so sorry,” 

“Most of what remains of that beautiful world are its trophies. It was never supposed to end that way, but the fact that it did… I should have done more,” 

“Your past failures are not your current mission. And it was the Shadow Queen who spun that web, not you. If we were to use that trail of thinking, I could blame myself for the fires the Shadow Weavers set in the Last Wood. But I don’t,” he keeps his hand pressed against her arm. “Do you see what I mean?” 

“Dyvim, it’s a different scale. I’m the only one who can stop her, and I failed. And I could fail again. Here,” 

“Well, there’s always a possibility for failure. My army has failed many, many times. Don’t you remember how we first met?” 

Amber blinks, turning her head to peer up at him from where her face is buried against her arms. “I saved you from that mantis guard,” 

“Exactly,” he nods. “I was the only knight with such extensive knowledge of the secret tunnels between Bastion and the Last Wood, and I was kidnapped. I failed. And yet, you still speak of me as a great hero. Don’t tell me you forget Fort Rachias so quickly now, hm?” 

“It’s not the same—” 

She moves to re-bury her head in her sleeve, but before she can, his hand on her arm moves to grab hers. The gesture shocks her out of her protests, and she straightens up, an attempt to retain some professionalism. 

“Amber,” he speaks steadily. “You are no less of a hero because of your loss, not to me. If anything, I think it speaks to your character all the more that you suffered such an immense amount and continued on for the sake of the Spiral. I don’t think anyone but the hero we’ve been fighting alongside could have done that,” 

“I didn’t have a choice,” she croaks. Then, she looks down at their hands. “But even if I did, I would have come,” 

He smiles. “I know. I’m very thankful for you,”

“You, speaking for all of Bastion?” 

“Me, speaking for myself.” 

She feels her cheeks begin to heat up, then. The affection she holds for him mingles with the ever-present fear of losing him, whether it be to Morganthe or to her duties elsewhere should this all work out. When he speaks again, she shuts her eyes. 

“I’m going to miss you while you’re gone,”

The sincerity in his voice leaves her with little choice but to wrap her arms around him. Amber stands on the tips of her toes to reach his neck, the nook of his armor beside his head surprisingly comfortable. 

“Thank you for letting me join you out here,” 

“Thank you for letting me… in,” 

Amber steps away. For the first time in a long time, her vulnerability doesn’t automatically make her feel like prey. If anything, she feels stronger than she did a mere hour ago. 

“This thing emits quite a glow, doesn’t it?” Dyvim says, leaning down to pick up the Star Stone. He brings it back over to her, and they each hold a side of it. 

“It does,” 

An unspoken understanding between them, they raise the stone into the air to pretend it’s an actual star in the sky. If they could see the sun, it would be coming up by now. 

It makes Amber wish she had more time with him.

[krispyweiss]

Song Review: I’m With Her - “Be My Husband” (Live, Backstage, June 20, 2025)

Talk about intimate.

Unmic’d, sans instruments and surrounded by fans in a backstage room at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, I’m With Her performed “Be My Husband” for the lucky dozens allowed to be there.

Standing in a circle, Sarah Jarosz, Sara Watkins and Aoife O’Donovan accompany themselves with marching shoes and hand claps as they sing Nina Simone’s desperate words:

Oh, Daddy/love me good

Someone thought to capture the spellbinding scene, but did so unobtrusively, perhaps in deference to his or her church-mouse quiet co-listeners. But when the trio hit the final note, the pent-up energy bursts forth even as the gathered throng parts to allow the musicians to exit.

Talk about intimate - and courteous.

Grade card: I’m With Her - “Be My Husband” (Live, Backstage - 6/20/25) - A+

6/26/25

[bellasmumblingsandmusings]

And Now...for Something different

Hey there, magical misfits and word weavers!

Guess who's conjuring up something wickedly wonderful? That's right—this witch is stirring her cauldron and launching a brand-new blog! 🧹✨

If you've ever pondered the mysteries of the universe between sips of chamomile tea, or found yourself debating the merits of ancient rituals versus modern practices (while your candles burn down to stubs), then boy, do I have a treat for you! After the cut lovelies!

Over the years, I've danced with Hekate under the moonlight, delved into the Greek Magical Papyri, and even sprinkled in a dash of my mother's Indian folk wisdom for good measure. I've wrestled with the commodification of the Craft (looking at you, overpriced crystal sellers) and embraced the beautiful complexity where science and witchcraft intertwine like ivy and oak.

So what's brewing on the new blog?

Magical Musings: Where I'll spill the enchanted beans on everything from historical witchy wonders to my latest thoughts on decolonizing our practices. Prepare for deep dives—with a splash of cheeky commentary, of course.

Reverent Rituals: Step into my sacred space as I share personal rituals and spells that are potent yet accessible—no unicorn tears or dragon scales required.

Purpose & Practice: Let's get down to the nitty-gritty of building a meaningful Craft without selling your soul (or your savings) for fancy tools. It's all about intent, baby!

Shadows & Selfsame: Join me on a journey through shadow work and self-exploration. Because even witches need to face their inner goblins.

Chosen Circle: A curated collection of resources, community shout-outs, and maybe a cat meme or two. Connection is magic, after all.

I care deeply about this path we're walking—respecting its roots, challenging the fluff, and finding that sweet spot where tradition and personal growth meet. If you're ready to explore the Craft with a dash of humor and a whole lot of heart, come fly with me!

So grab your broomsticks and let's embark on this enchanted adventure together. Trust me, it's going to be spellbinding. 🔮 https://www.tumblr.com/teaandbroomstickscafe

[pixelmensupremacy]

Day 3

𝘖𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴. 𝘝𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦: 3.5𝘒 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴: 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹

Stern look was carved on Nines’ fair, sharp features- a look that wasn’t all too unusual for the unparalleled RK900 model, though there was something more to it. A flicker of frustration- desperation even- was woven in the disks of icy blues that circled around raven pits of blown pupils; slender fingers tapped on the smooth surface of the plain snowy desk in equal intervals, bright gold shone on his temple, taking the place of the usual cool azure. Faint noises drowned in his ears as he completely ignored everything that had nothing to do with the subject of his interest, his CPU was unusually empty- or rather free of any thoughts regarding his duty. Instead, what occupied his mind was (Y/N) and how she had him on edge repeatedly throughout the day. Her angelic smile had him awestruck with multiple system warnings popping up along with a warning, bright red that clouded his vision; the flicker of mischief in her eyes contrasted the joyful grin on her lips that skillfully hid her true nature behind an angelic façade. Flames danced across the gorgeous (E/C) hues of her irises that were nothing but mere ribbons surrounding a sea of impossibly deep raven waters that covered her deepest covets.

It was her melodic laughter, tingling his ears, that immediately anchored his attention to her; wandering irises studied her form for the nth time in the past hour, noting how her charming smile faded ever so slightly once her gaze met his. As if his steel blues struck her with their spellbinding coolness, she froze in place, yet, within, she was slowly melting away under the impact of a burning desire. Her breath got stuck in her trachea as a lump formed at the base of her throat, preventing her from putting her feelings into words and rather rely on her body language to silently let him know how he made her feel. The flames of lust were slowly eating away at her being completely taking over her rational consciousness until there was not a trace of her dignity nor any sense of control, but rather just pure, primal desire that was threatening to consume her whole. Though there was yet another, stronger force that prevented her inevitable collapse for a while longer; it was a tricky game with unpredictably dangerous flames that could burn her down if they so desired, still it was the risk that drove her courage further. As if she had been Icarus too lured in by his covet to realize the danger being that same desire. Although Nines was more than just the sun for (Y/N); he was a black hole in the middle of her Universe, drawing in every fraction of her attention and love, consuming any matter of her being and unraveling it until there was no trace of her left, he was a star bright enough to throw a light even in the darkest moments of the night with elegant, silver rays. He was the Universe, an endless sea and she was a sailor lost.

The buildup tension within her didn’t go unnoticed by Nines’ hawk eye that never left her form for the few moments she had been before his eyes. His steel blues followed her silhouette until it disappeared behind the tastelessly gray walls of the police department; standing up, he listened to her footsteps, immediately able to locate her direction. With no hesitation whatsoever, he disregarded the half done report that bored him throughout the entirety of the hideously prolonged noon. Swiftly, the heels of his shoes clicked atop the glassy marble flooring with each step he took; his eyes scanned his surroundings, in search of (Y/N). It wasn’t even a second later when his icy irises met her (E/C) ones that were partly hidden by a curtain of lashes that fluttered bashfully. Nines scoffed as he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the poorly attempted look of innocence she was trying to embody. The pad of her thumb gently brushed the corner of her lip, catching a single droplet of the liquid contained in the mug held by her other hand; her eyes were set on him, continuously gazing at him as she brought her digit to her lips, where her tongue darted across her fingertip. As if a ribbon had been tied around his throat, Nines felt something preclude any words from forming in his vocal box not that there were many thought in his CPU to begin with, or at least not ones he would be comfortable with voicing at a public place.

Keeping his composure, the android stepped closer to his partner; his eyes noted the glistening streak of coffee that trailed beside her glossy bottom lip and down her chin. The synthetic muscles of his jaw flexed underneath his pale skin as he gritted his teeth; a wave of thirium rushed to his sides, causing heat to creep up his neck and ears. The corners of her mouth curled in a proud grin as she relished the sight of him trying to battle his needs, though she knew it was a lost battle before it had even begun.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?” (Y/N) was first to speak up with a lighthearted smile on her face; she gazed at his seemingly expressionless form with naïve expectancy that was a part of her play she couldn’t wait to execute and the slight twitch of his lip only told her she was headed in the right direction. The android took another step, bringing his face closer to hers as his gaze bore into hers with unmatched intensity- the one of a man jealously watching over his treasure, in fear that if he were to look away it would disappear.

“I was left with the impression that you have anticipated my presence. Is that correct?” despite the slight rise of his eyebrow the certainty in his voice made the question seem more like a statement rather than a doubt.

“Maybe.” She tilted her head slightly, in a pitiful attempt to shorten the distance between them caused by his remarkable height; the intense, deep (E/C) of her irises shone with an unmistakable spark of lust and desire. “But I can’t stay here and look at your pretty face all day- even if I’d very much like to. Now if you don’t mind I gotta get back to work.” Her gaze bore into his with a hint of expectancy that didn’t align with the confidence of her words, yet whatever she was silently hoping for didn’t arrive and there was nothing else she could do but leave the break room. Doing just that she had to peel her eyes away from his gorgeous azure ones despite not wanting to do so; a sense of frustration clouded her mind as she forced herself to walk away.

A yelp rolled down her lips once her foot hit something causing her to lose balance; before she knew it a pair of strong hands held her forearms and a set of familiar eyes were staring back at her- the same ones she couldn’t brush off of her mind. She winced at the burning sensation that spread across her skin; her eyes darted to the source of the pain, noting how the snowy fabric of her dress shirt clung to her skin, losing its initial bright color and instead darken with brown hues that soaked into the fabric at a rapid rate. She cursed through gritted teeth at the sight of her mug broken into pieces on the ground, surrounded by a pool of hot coffee she was looking forward to relishing, though she wasn’t the only one who was affected by her unexpected clumsiness. Brown stained the snowy white of his coat; dark spots peppered his dress shirt and pants, indicating where the drink had soaked into his clothes. Numerous words of apologies rolled down her lips as she rushed for tissues, despite knowing they would do little to help the situation. All the while she was frantically trying to erase the consequences of that little accident, Nines was just silently watching, studying the sudden shift in her behavior caused by such minor inconvenience. The quiet curses under breath along with the words of apology were cut off as abruptly as they occurred once she felt the strong grip of his hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her from hopelessly wiping at the stain. Her eyes met his; his unbiased irises appeared to contain a soft twinge of warmth to them.

“Relax.” As if he casted a spell upon her, she felt immediate relief in her nerves and muscles at the sound of that one word rolling down his lips so softly, almost sensually.

“Now I have to get you a new coat.” (Y/N) tried to laugh off the bitter sensation of humiliation and guilt that settled in her heart, causing it to clench uncomfortably- though that sensation was short-lived. He caught her chin between his thumb and index finger, anchoring her attention away from the shattered porcelain and back to him.

“That wouldn’t be necessary.” His voice was low, yet soothing and so were his eyes; the steel blue swirled into a deeper azure that flowed around deep, dark pits of dilated pupils. “Water and soap will be more than enough to wash off the stain.”

A spark of hope glimmered in her eyes as an idea emerged in her mind, an idea that brought the two of them before the department’s toilets. In unison the two eyed the perimeter of the busy department, making sure no curious eyes were laid on them as they entered; a clicking sound echoed behind her as Nines closed the door after himself and locked it.

“Take off your coat.” Amber shone on his temple, his eyes widened ever so slightly; awkwardness settled in the air for the few moments it took Nines to undress. Silence filled the room except for the soft ruffling of his clothes along with the barely audible sighs that rolled down her lips; her eyes closely watched how the white fabric flowed down his shoulders and arms and instead revealing the raven, silky fabric that hugged his chiseled form. Dryness burned her throat, for her mouth was gaping at the sight that unfolded right before her eyes; heat traveled across her body, setting fire to her core until it spread to her face and back all the way down to her depths that burned with undeniable need. Her thigs were clasped in an x shape, her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she noted how the spots of wet fabric clung to the skin of his stomach, granting her a teasing glimpse of his perfectly toned body. Too lost in her fantasies, she almost didn’t notice how his gaze searched hers as he handed her his coat.

“Here.” The word came out as a whisper, barely audible yet loud enough for him to hear; her hand reached out for the cloth, her fingers brushed against his for a split second, causing goosebumps to form on her skin. The sound of the water pouring atop the silky fabric was a comforting contrast to the previous silence; her burning skin welcomed the coolness of the water that aided in extinguishing the flames, dancing on her hands though the water was helpless in the face of the raging fire that was set ablaze in her heart, fueled by the very android standing beside her. With the corner of her eye she noted his slender form standing still within an arm’s reach; heat crept at her sides as numerous thoughts- caused by his mere presence- emerged in her mind. Beside her, the android was putting all of his attention in reading her discrepant expressions; how the corner of her mouth quivered or how her eyes glimmered behind the curtain of lashes that fluttered in a bashful manner. Even if he could analyze her body language he couldn’t quite grasp what precisely occurred in her mind- though it was exactly that lack of information that made him eager to find out.

“May I assist you?” He brought her out of the trance state she had found herself into, except he was the sole reason for her to fall deep into the world of her wildest fantasies and facing him only gave her the hopeful sense she was getting closer to seeing her dreams turning into reality.

“There’s no need to. I washed it out, though I’m not sure about your shirt.” Her gaze slid down his toned form hugged by the damp raven fabric; his icy gaze followed the direction of her (E/C) one.

“I’m positive it will be okay.” He reassured, his eyes searched hers; there was a glimmer to his features, a flicker hidden within the unfazed, cold azure of his irises, it was warmth or rather a blue flame so unexpected she was barely able to catch it as if it was meant to disappear when spotted. For a split second she noted how the synthetic bone of his jaw flexed; his fingers reached for his collar, where in swift motions he began undoing his dress shirt. Her breath hitched, blood rushed to her cheeks as her eyes took in the sight in front of her; shamelessly, her (E/C) irises trailed the unfolding beauty that was his toned torso, unable to peel her gaze away even if the little left sense of remorse left within her was protesting. The soft ruffling of fabric was barely audible to her ears, for the loud thumping of her racing heart echoed in her head; the unbearable heat in her body only elevated as with each passing second more of him was revealed to her. His pale skin shone under the equally bright light of the lamps above them; the raven fabric that contrasted his snowy skin fell of his shoulders and into his arm, where slender digits held it gently. The clicks of his heels echoed twice as he shortened the already small distance between them; he leaned forward, his hand reached for the sink. His face was a mere inch away from hers, his icy irises bored into her (E/C) ones.

“Should I?” His lips almost brushed against hers as he spoke, his cold breath pinched her cheeks; her heart skipped a beat as she felt herself drowning in the icy ocean of his eyes that weren’t moving away from her own as if their gazes were caught in the field of a magnetic force so powerful that had them staring at each other for what seemed like eternity. These few moments they let themselves fall out of reality opposed a danger the two of them were well aware of, yet neither of them was driven to prevent was an inevitable collapse of all restrains and morals; abrupt wave of electrifying excitement ran through (Y/N)’s bloodstream as her lips pressed against his as if on their own. Akin to stone cold snakes, his digits slithered in her hair, taking a hold of her (H/C) strands; she was trapped in his intoxicating embrace and she was enjoying every moment of it.

Stifled moans and ruffling of clothes echoed off the walls as the two detectives had fallen captives to the alluring energy of one another that made up for a deadly mixture of long repressed desires; the both of them melted under the touch of the other as they morphed into one whole. It wasn’t long before (Y/N) was out of breath, for Nines’ persistent tongue blocked her airways, depriving her of the much needed oxygen; it was exactly that lack of oxygen that had her on cloud nine, her vison blurred as a euphoric sensation had taken over her every sense, leaving her in a drunken state. A loud gasp escaped her throat once he pulled away, a glistening string of her saliva connected their parted lips; his thumb brushed across her bottom lip, spreading the clear, glossy liquid across her mouth. Her hot breath hit the sensors of the tip of his finger, though that sensation couldn’t even compare to the one of her tongue darting across the sensitive receptors that happened to be especially sensitive on the tips of his digits. Her curious gaze noted the change in his stoic features; gradually the cold façade was falling away, leaving behind a raw- vulnerable even- manifestation of his deepest covets finally coming to the surface. And she was enjoying everything about it, so much so she wanted to see him unravel until there is nothing left of his composure but only primal drive. So she latched onto his neck, peppering his porcelain smooth skin with countless loving kisses; she trailed her tongue across his sharp jaw line all the way down to his collar bones. A shaky whimper rolled off his lips at the inexplicable feeling, it was so foreign but welcomed by his body; it overrode his CPU with numerous cautionary notifications, yet he didn’t pay them much attention, for his focus was placed on her slowly making her way to his waistline.

“May I?” Her fingers rested on his hips, dangerously close to where a growing desire was barely contained by his raven slacks; her eyes gazed at his in expectancy with an innocence that was far from aligning with her true intentions. He could only nod as he was too entranced by her, bewitched by her touch and magnetic eyes he could easily lose himself in; gladly, she unbuckled his belt and tugged at the seam of his slacks, pulling all the way to his ankles along with his boxers. She awed at the sight before her very eyes; as if she were in one of her many sinful dreams, she reached for his dick, yet this time It felt bizarrely real. She wrapped her hand around the shaft, barely able to do so completely; she stroked him as she made sure to put extra attention to the tip that wash flush in a faint blue color. Her eyes glimmered with excitement as if she were looking at something she had longed for a whole eternity and in a sense that were true, for she had wished upon this very moment for a long time to a point where it felt surreal now that it was in fact happening.

Bright, pale amber color had taken over the soft, translucent blue of his LED; his mouth was agape, making it harder for him to withstand the urge to let out sounds he had never produced before. The sensation of her hot mouth on him was overwhelming and foreign; throughout his rather short existence he had always had that equipment, yet he never found a purpose for it nor was he looking forward to putting it to use. Not to say he wasn’t aware of its primal value even the opposite, though he never deemed it necessary to use it, it had become a spare part the presence of which he had grown used to. Or at least that was up until this very moment, a moment of truth Nines had been blind to for far too long. He fought the urge to groan as he took the sight of her taking him in, her nails dug into the synthetic skin of his hips, her eyes glistening with pearls of crystal clear droplets that formed in the corners of her half lidded eyes, her plump lips stretching around the girth of him; he rolled his head back, unable to look at her for even a second more, for he feared he would fall apart if he didn’t. Though little did he know that was inevitable as (Y/N) only sped up her pace, causing him to finally surrender and let out an audible moan; she hummed, proud of her accomplishment, the vibration of her throat enveloped his dick only enhancing the divine effect of her tongue on him. A state of divine bliss rushed over him, tingling all of his sensors with delight he had never experienced; momentarily, his CPU crashed, relieving him from the burden of thinking and instead letting him surrender to feeling present in the moment, filled with euphoria.

From below, (Y/N) watched him come down from his high as she pulled away, swallowing his load; she patiently pumped him in slow motions, caressing the still leaking tip each time her hand reach the top and trailed the defined line of his synthetic vein as she went all the way down to the base of his shaft. A smile curled the corners of her lips at the sight of him, lost in the ecstasy of it all; his hair was slightly ruffled, his lips were parted. As if he didn’t take her breath away by just looking at her, now he appeared even more breathtaking in such lewd light; he was surely going to be the end of her, and she had gladly accepted such fate.

“Enjoyed that handsome?” She smirked at him as she stood up, her hands reached for his tie, fixing it as her gaze never moved away from his own.

“What about your shirt?” Nines avoided the question and rather answered with another one all the while looking at her as she headed for the door; he stood in place- as if frozen- and watched her wink at him before heading out.

“Don’t worry about me.”

Kinktober masterlist| Detroit become human masterlist

[zodiactalks]

Top 5 Most Attractive Zodiac Signs

Being shallow is definitely a no-go for a well-rounded individual. We’re definitely not promoting judging people based on their appearance alone. Instead, we’re here to celebrate those zodiac signs that were blessed by the skies with magnetic attraction.

This can manifest in their overall appearance or their spellbinding social abilities. Being attractive is a lot more than having great hair every day of the week. These five zodiac signs seem always to charm everyone around them, and we’re here to analyze what gives them their enchanting natures.

1.    Libra

This comes as no surprise to anyone. The social butterfly of the zodiac is ruled by Venus, which blessed Libra natives with great looks, balanced and delicate proportions, and certain diplomacy that makes everyone like them in an instant.

Libras have a large circle of friends because they know how to make themselves pleasant in conversation and avoid conflict. They are usually friendly with anyone, which instantly attracts people around them.

And it certainly helps that they put a lot of effort into their appearance. You’d have a really hard time finding a Libra that does not look put together at a social event!

2.    Scorpio

This peculiar water sign does nothing better than attract! Scorpio natives are the definition of magnetic. They will usually have really intense stares and an unmatched sense of humour, which will win them lots of friends (and help them break a lot of hearts).

With Scorpio being a sign so in tune with their sexuality, they will never hesitate to flaunt their best assets. Their confidence is absolutely divine, and we all know that there’s nothing sexier than confidence.

And since Pluto, which rules over desires, governates this sign, Scorpios will always know how to bring out feelings in you that you never knew you had!

3.    Taurus

At the opposite end of intense Scorpio, a Taurus will always attract through their class. Just like Libra, this sign is ruled by the goddess of love - Venus. This planet bestowed them with great, homely, elegant looks.

And since Taureans are so focused on family life and finding their special person, they will forever be able to charm anyone with their romance. No one can sweep you off your feet quite like a Taurus. Their love for luxury and love, in general, is enough to make you feel like you’ve just landed in a fairytale.

4.    Gemini

 By now, we all know that Gemini can sell water to a sink. Their outstanding conversation skills allow them to make themselves pleasant to just about anyone.

And for people who love a well-cultured individual, there’s nothing quite as sexy as Gemini since they can talk for hours on literally any subject.

Of course, being so well-versed in the art of conversation will gain them many admirers, even though some people might find them shallow or two-faced.

Moreover, a conversation with a Gemini will never lack substance. They are genuinely interested in what you have to say and know many fascinating things, so they will never be boring.

5.    Aries

This list wouldn’t have been complete without Aries! Fiery passion burns holes through anyone lucky enough to catch their eyes. An Aries will attract through their unmatched intensity and big dreams.

Moreover, you will never see an Aries in raggedy clothes. They love showing off in expensive-looking outfits. And they have every right to do so because no other zodiac sign works as hard as an Aries. Their passion for their work and hobbies is contagious, so it’s no surprise people love spending time with them!

[raptorfae53]

Ever After High Reimagined: Cedar Tonitori Character Bio/Redesign.

Cedar Tonitori

(She/they)

Daughter of pinnochio (Amazigh-Italian)

Pinnochio is known as a legendary troublemaker, but his daughter Cedar can't fathom doing anything of the sort herself! A nervous,passive homebody and a talented painter prone to bouts of anxious overthinking, who would much rather spend her time whiling away in her room working on her latest art project than even entertain the thought of running away to pleasure Island and getting into all sorts of trouble like her dad. Quite the irony she's been branded a rebel regardless for associating with raven queen, though considering that hanging out with Raven and her friends is helping Cedar come out of her shell,maybe this is for the better…

Likes: painting and drawing, photography, vintage fashion magazines, swimming, and freshening up with linseed oil and beeswax.

Dislikes: being unable to lie, fire, wood eating creatures (beavers,woodpeckers,woodlice ect), her strings being touched and being asked invasive questions all the time.

Spellbinding Style: 70s all the way down, fittingly enough for a girl made from an Atlas Cedar that first sprouted during that time period. Cedar loves to express themselves with loud,exaggerated looks of the period as well as more modest fare like turtlenecks and shortalls in her day-to-day.Cedar and Raven bonded quickly over thrifting and styling vintage pieces from the period, bonding quickly over their similar love for the decade's fashion and music. (along with a few of the other rebels, Cerise in particular is very partial to vintage Jock jackets herself...)

Companion creature: Clockwork, the avian centrepiece of her prized cuckoo clock. Cedar…isn't fond of most animals (birds and bugs in particular terrify them) but she's fine with Clockwork as it's not only a reminder of her dad and grandfather living far away, the latter of who carved the bird,and the rest of the clock by extent, as a going-away gift for his granddaughter, but also because unlike flesh and blood nature, wild,unpredictable and not good for Cedars anxiety, Clockwork,like…well clockwork without fail circles Cedars room every morning at 7am sharp singing to wake them up and once on the hour until sundown afterwards, it's a comforting presence.

Hexworthy vex: People harassing her with truths. Like her dad, Cedar cannot lie due to her nose growing with the act, and as a result Cedar and her dad have often been outright hounded by people demanding to know if a certain rumor going around that day is true, its at times like these when Cedars happy to have the rebels, particularly her best friend and roommate Cerise, to deal with people who act this way. (usually Blondie or those nasty little Crumb siblings…)

“Oh Curses” moment: Anxiety, Cedar is a girl with a lot of fears, some very rational and some not so, and as consequence is a bit paranoid and a massive hypochondriac, nervous every second animal or environment has the means to turn her into a rotten pile of woodchips and too anxious to leave the safe, familiar space of her dorm on her worst days.

Storied Secret: Cedars not really sure what it means to be a “real” girl, as far as they're concerned they've all the same physiological capabilities as her classmates, is it because she's made of wood, or constructed artificially, in that case there's a bunch of other kids in her year who wouldn't be considered “real” either,she's really not sure…

Deepest Wish: To be recognised for her talents as an artist instead of only ever given attention because of her truthsaying, Cedars put a lot of effort into practice and improvement into the former and it just bums them out to be treated like a glorified fairground sideshow attraction regardless…

5 Fantastical Facts:

Cedar likes to paint herself with all manner of colours and has taught herself how to use makeup,henna and bodypaint to in turn paint intricate patterns on her friends, a particular specialty being face painting, as Cedar likes to do intricate designs every morning that complement her 70s outfits.

Cedar plays the drums as a part of the Rebels. Compared to the other members she has the least experience as a musician,picking up the instrument in order to jam with her friends, and whilst they get a little anxious about letting down her bandmates, it's clear Cedars a natural at the instrument, her confidence growing duly thanks to the encouragement of her friends.

Cedars wooden body makes a very capable swimmer and given multiple affirmations that no, sparrow was lying about a family of beavers living in the deep end of EAH's pool has joined the schools swim team.

Another result of being made out of wood is Cedar not being able to feel pain in addition to having a dulled feeling of touch across their whole body. The exception to this are her puppet strings, which are comparatively hypersensitive and which Cedar is OK with only their closest family and friends touching even unintentionally.

People often ask Cedar if it's weird for her to see stuff made out of wood, asking if it's comparable to everything being made out of meat for a human (aka the old gingerbread man lives in gingerbread house debate), as disappointing as the answer tends to be,no it isn't.

This week's Rebel is Cedar, the artsy, nervous (if she had a nervous system that is...) puppet girl and future pinnochio, whatever that ends up looking like...

Further information and thoughts down below:

First off yes, I changed Cedars Surname, Wood is an OK surname but a bit non-indictive and bland, so now she's Cedar Tonitori, Tonitori being Italian for woodturner or wood carver, which I think Is personally a lot more fitting...

Anyways, Cedar I honestly think was the character who I hemmed the closest to the original, if only being more anxious and more of an overthinker. I just think all the plot points set up in g1, her frustration over being unable to lie and therefore be trusted and what that meant regarding her humanity,and wether it means shes even human at all are always some of my favorite things to do with a pinnochio story, and I think it goes well with Cedar being an artist and to a lesser extent, an overthinker.

Tbh that same reasonable closeness to the character of g1 Cedar has left me with not much else to say regarding their character, it's really within her relationships with other characters where the larger changes can be seen, most notably her best friend, roommate, and next weeks rebel entry...