#her hair is normally like... RED red not ginger

[drysauce]

i need to make a difficult choice. do i make use of my hair color and hairstyle and do a casual cosplay of genshin gaming or do i join my friend and make the sims crystals to put on our heads. or do i do both

[fyodior]

MY TURN!

✩ pairing: dazai x afab reader x chuuya

✩ cw: threesome, rough sex, spanking, creampies, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), fem pet names, dubcon-ish, UNGODLY amounts of cum

✩ notes: breedtober fic 1 !! this concept has been brewing in my head for a WHILE. enjoy!

✩ wc: 1.6k

want more of breedtober?

it all started with an argument, that led to a dare - one you didn’t have the pleasure of being present for or aware of. 

who can get her pregnant first? 

or rather,

if we both fuck her, whose sperm will take?

you had messed around with both dazai and chuuya more than once - both under the incredibly persuasive influence of chuuya’s finely aged wine, and under no influence at all. unless you count the insatiable and unbearable lust for the two men who made no effort to conceal their desires for you. but you’d never fucked them both at the same time

and this plan - it was a disgusting, vile, deplorable plan, especially under the guise of just a good, fun night. ‘let’s just pass around a bottle of chardonnay and see where the night goes,’ they had said, despite knowing exactly where the night was going to go. but fuck did it feel good. 

“ch-chuuya,” you moaned, stuttering as he fucked you mercilessly from the back. one hand dug deep into the plush of your hip to pull your ass back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts, while the other slapped your ass so hard you shivered each time. 

the sound of skin-on-skin filled the bedroom as he bottomed out with every thrust, burying his entire cock in you until the ginger puff of hair at the base tickled against your skin. 

“yeah, darlin’? that feel good?” he smirked, picking up the pace and rewarding you with yet another harsh spank. 

and you wanted to scream, wanted to cry out a yes, yes! chuuya, harder! but, you couldn’t, and dazai made sure of that by pushing your head down rather hard as you sucked him off.

having been so distracted with the way chuuya fucked you good and deep, you truthfully weren’t paying attention to dazai’s cock, and it drove him to a level of anger and possessiveness, almost jealousy, he can’t remember the last time he felt. and he normally wasn’t a head pusher - he really wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to lose to chuuya. 

you had only been indulging in occasional kitten licks and sucking on dazai’s angry red tip, as every time you tried to venture farther, chuuya seemed to angle his hips differently or spank you hard to pull your attention back to him, and dazai could not and would not have that. 

saliva and precum poured off your bottom lip as dazai fucked your throat in time with chuuya’s thrusts. you choked and gagged as he gripped your hair and thrust up into your mouth, grunting wildly as your throat tightened and spasmed around his aching length. 

“you have no fucking clue how sexy you look right now, doll, swallowing my cock, taking it so fucking good,” dazai smirked, tightening his grip on your hair. chuuya rolled his eyes.

dark streaks of mascara stained your cheeks from your tears, a sight that only drove dazai even madder, and one chuuya was getting more and more jealous of. but he knows there was no reason to - not yet, at least. he had the center stage, the spotlight on him as a hand snaked down underneath you to massage your throbbing, neglected clit as he fucked you hard and deep. and his cum was what was going to fill your cunt first, allowing him to succeed in their fucked up little dare - he was more than sure of it. just the thought of it, alongside the way you clenched deliciously around his length, was pushing him over the edge.

“shit, baby, gonna cum,” chuuya muttered right into your ear as he draped his chest over your back, kissing up your neck. “want me to fill up your pussy? breed you like a bitch in heat?” he was going to regardless of your answer. dazai scoffed, but chuuya ignored him easily.

you likely would’ve protested, and indeed had the thought to instruct chuuya to pull out, but your mouth was too busy for you to do anything but gasp as thick ropes painted the walls of your cunt a milky white. he made sure to press his cock in all the way inside you and tilt your hips down, the tip brushing against your cervix, to ensure his cum seeped right into your ready and waiting womb. and you couldn’t be mad about it - not when he continued to whisper dirty, filthy words into your ear as he played with your clit.

“my turn,” dazai smirks, tugging at your hair to prompt you to pull off his still aching hard-on. you finish up with a long lick on the underside of his cock along the pulsing vein, smiling up at him as you breathe heavily. 

truthfully, your pussy already felt too used and abused from chuuya, but you were starting to ache for dazai too. luckily, the man was happy to oblige.

chuuya begrudgingly pulled out to allow dazai to take his turn, regretting not just beating his ass and taking you for himself, filling you with his cum and his cum only. 

repositioning you to lay you down on your back, dazai smiled at you, playing up his irresistible charm before leaning in to press a long kiss to your lips. “gonna make you all fucking mine, pretty girl,” he smirks, voice low and gravely. “make you beg for my cum this time, yeah?”

you could only whine in response, yearning for him - at this point you had no fucking clue who you wanted more, but it had stopped mattering. when they both were treating you like this.

“hurry it up, dumbass,” chuuya muttered, arms crossed as he sat on the edge of the bed. he had an idea for what he wanted to do with you as dazai took his turn, but he couldn’t get to it with dazai yammering in your ear like that. 

“don’t worry, doll,” dazai sighed, caressing your cheek. “he’s just jealous.”

“the fuck i am,” chuuya gripes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“just fuck me, dazai, please,” you whined, gripping his bandaged arms. and there’s no way he could say no to that.

spreading your legs wide, he lined up his cock before sinking into you easily, already stretched and prepped from your previous round. it was a conscious choice not to acknowledge how he was using chuuya’s cum as lube.

 having already been picturing this moment since they dragged you into bed, dazai built up a pace fast, and you curled your legs around his waist to ground yourself as he jostled you around. 

“so fucking tight, baby,” he gasped, gripping your waist. “i know you wanna take my cum so fucking bad, fill your pussy ‘til it can’t hold any more.” he was nearly babbling to himself at that point, mind reeling with how good you felt. 

“shut it, shithead,” chuuya hissed, deciding it was his time to join in. he’d never, ever admit it, but he was getting impossibly turned on watching dazai fuck you senseless, and his dick was already chubbing up at the sight. and the way you moaned and screwed your face tight, shit.

climbing over you, chuuya placed his knees on either side of your head to hover over you, his heavy cock right in front of your face. 

“y’re gonna take it just like this, darlin’,” he smirked gripping his length and prodding at your lips with the tip. it was a bit like trying to hit a moving target with how hard dazai was fucking you, but chuuya didn’t give a shit. he just needed to feel your mouth.

despite your poor throat already feeling bruised and sore, you opened up willingly, digging your fingers into his toned thighs in a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself. dazai only glared as chuuya lowered himself further to allow you to suck in his cock, wishing he had chosen that position himself. he chose not to let chuuya get to him though, just pushed your thighs further apart to allow better access. 

“that’s right, baby, take it all in,” chuuya coaxed as you choked on his girth but persevered anyway. his thighs burned a bit due to the unnatural squatting position, but he couldn’t care less - he was already embarrassingly close to cumming down your throat. 

dazai loathed the fact that you weren’t paying much attention to him at all, deciding to spit on his fingers and rub quick circles around your clit, making you gasp and moan around chuuya’s cock. 

“feel good?” he smirked, massaging it in time with his thrusts. 

you desperately wanted to respond, encourage the man touching your sweet spot, but chuuya commanded all your attention as he started to fuck your throat.

and in the same way chuuya couldn’t help but be turned on by dazai’s cock driving you mad, dazai was nearing his high hearing how you gagged and gurgled on chuuya’s length. the warning of his oncoming orgasm just barely left his lips before he was groaning and stuffing you with his seed this time. the tight clamp of your thighs around his waist tightened and your toes curled as you felt the hot cum leak out of you while his fingers pulled you closer to your own high. 

you had never felt so full in your life - dazai’s cock still buried in your cunt alongside two heavy loads of cum, and chuuya’s cock stuffing your mouth, alongside his hot cum sliding down your throat. 

the two men eyed each other knowingly as they wiped your spent body clean, washing away all the splattered cum minus the loads that seeped out of you - and maybe dazai even used two fingers to push it in a little deeper. 

both incredibly cocky men, they were both certain it would be their seed that took - but they’d have to wait nine months and see. 

[rinaxtaros]

[08] | RED.

Summary: You and Sebastian are left to scout out the circus.

— undercover (adjective) involving secret work within a community or organization, especially for the purposes of police investigation or espionage.

"Are you ready?" The tall frame of the red and yellow striped tents casts an ominous shadow over both you and Sebastian’s beings. The faint glow from the flickering candle lights scattered throughout the grassy fields provides a dim luminescence. You glance at the taller man, taking in his features. Somehow, the yellow-lighting which would always make a regular person look absolutely dreadful, makes Sebastian look more alluring.

You try not to linger on the thought too long, though.

"Let's not keep them waiting too long.” You grumble, falling into pace with Sebastian. The demon had wasted no time in your arrival, as he had almost immediately switched into his feeble past-butler role. His love for theatrics was the most human thing about his existence.

Ciel had sent you and Sebastian join first as to give the younger boy the upper hand when coming the next day. Ciel wasn’t too good at acting on the spot so in his words, he wanted to be “prepared in a manner that the Queen herself would appreciate.”

“Hurry now, [y/n].” Sebastian calls sensually, shooting you a smug look. You scoff, not realising how you had fell behind. Each step causes the heel of your shoe to melt into the softened soil, causing your journey to be less than satisfactory.

“Stupid shoes…” You murmer, pulling your feet from the ground in a less than elegant manner. Who do you have to impress here? Some foul human involved in the disappearance and probable murder of young children? Even as a demon you know these people are worth less than the disgusting muck coated against your heels.

The performance had put you in a positively sour mood. Sebastian’s love for felines clouded his judgement and he put his head and the tigers mouth. Dwelling over the situation continues to make it feel less and less real and more like you’ve pulled the story out of your ass. You’re sure Ciel would shout at you for telling him lies if you reported this back to him.

However, the little stunt has now landed you in the medical tent and behind the iron privacy bars. You’ve unfortunately come to terms with the fact that Sebastian’s stupid decision has allowed you to gain closer insight to the dynamics behind the scenes.

"You seem quite alright even though your man got bit by a tiger, ye?" The ginger ringleader, Joker, laughs as he observes the sour look on your face. Sebastian had been acting coy with Beast and the medic, claiming he was just too fascinated with big cats.

You look over at the man who was a little too close for your liking and size him up. His face paint was starting to fade, probably from the layer of sweat he produced running around the circus to calm the patrons.

You flick your hair over your shoulder as you look back at your companion for the night, "He likes the attention.”

Sebastian’s eyes remained close, which you’re sure is on purpose because the stupid expression pisses you off to no end. Ciel would be absolutely fuming if Sebastian had pulled that stunt while he was here, so you know he’s aware how stupid it was.

In between conversations, the busty tiger tamer you now know as the stage name Beast had promptly beelined towards the busy doctor. She was complaining about her prosthetic leg and how it was starting to lock up on her. Sebastian was quick to ask a few questions as prosthetics aren’t an openly common practice within your part of England.

You ignore how Joker burns holes into your body. He was unabashedly checking you out, but you paid no mind. You understand his questionable approach to your identity seeing as your clothes aren’t far off from your normal attire. Joker observes how maid-like your dress is but you surprisingly didn't dawn any of the usual frilly material or awfully tacky headband. The rest of the crew recognise how connected you and Sebastian seem to be seeing as you two seem to have silent conversations with each other just by looking at each other. To them, however, you look like a pair.

Sebastian had maneauvered himself beside Beast who perched herself onto the desk in front of the doctor. He was quick and no one within the tent had realised what Sebastian was doing before he lifted the girls leg and subsequently exposed her panties to everyone looking at the two.

A pregnant pause falls over the tent. You watch, eyes darting between every member of the circus.

One beat, two beat, thr—

Swiftly, you’ve placed yourself to the side of the commotion. Before anyone could blink, Beast screams and grasps her whip. Joker and the chirpy blonde one are crying out for the commotion to stop just as quickly as it’s started. However, in the middle of the chaos, Sebastian smiles.

Truthfully, it is quite amusing to watch Sebastian barely break a sweat when avoiding the onslaught attack.

All fun must come to an end, though.

"I'm afraid we must get going now." Your hand grabs the whip as it flies out in front of you. No one had noticed the your quick manoeuvre across the room until you placed yourself in the middle of the chaos. Beast stutters to find the right words as her whip is pulled out of her hands and dropped to the dirt floor with a dulled thud.

Sebastian waves his free hand as a goodbye gesture as you’re currently grabbing the sleeve of his other hand.

Sebastian follows without much of a fight, but he mumbles something as Joker comes running after you both. Surprisingly, he’s able to keep up with your fast-paced walk.

"Hey! Wait a minute, won't ya?" He asks hopefully, extending a hand "Those are some gymnastics you have there lad, and you can move fast lass!”

Sebastian places a gentle hand over your own. You freeze, staring at him. The fist you created on his blazer unclenches and falls to your side.

"I would offer you a place but-"

"Oh, really, you're not having a jest?" Sebastian smiles kindly "I am getting quite sick of my current master...” Sebastian pauses, looking back at you with a devious smile.

You furrow your brows, that good for nothing is up to something!

“My partner too." Sebastian lifts his hand to smooth down your hair. Your words get caught in your mouth as you realise what stunt he is now pulling. You try your best to smile through the irritation as you know Sebastian is enjoying the whole act.

Joker smiles brightly "Great! We'll have auditions tomorrow!"

Sebastian bows "You don't mind if I bring a friend along?" Joker shakes his head "If he's half as good as you I'm sure he'll do well!"

"I'm sure he will.” You add, cutting off the conversation. As much as you could care less about the conversation you just wanted to cut Sebastian’s fun off quicker. Knowing your luck, he was going to start holding your hand.

Ugh.

“Your behaviour was reckless, Sebastian.” You scold Sebastian as you mindlessly walk back to the Phantomhive manor. Your footsteps fall in sync, each crunch, snap and step sounding simultaneously. A pregnant silence falls between both you and Sebastian. The sound of the night surrounds you as the sounds of the wildlife settle in the bushes encasing the pathways.

“Reckless? How so?” Sebastian humours as he continues to walk, unfazed by your annoyance. You clicks your tongue and your roll your eyes as you glance at Sebastian. Of course he has that cocky smile on his face.

”You got your head stuck in the tigers jaw, then you had to go and reveal Beast to her team.” Sebastian muffles a laugh, eyes flicking leisurely to his right to look down at you. You stare back with frustration glazed over your pupils. 

Sebastian laughs as he realises you won’t step down from the petty argument.

“It was just an accident, love.” He smiles, “You aren’t jealous are you, sin of Lust?” He teases as he raises his gloved hand grasp your chin, effectively stopping the two from walking and you from turning away. Automatically, you turn your body to get a better look at the flirtatious demon, hardening your gaze as you grasp at the hand on your chin. You try to push it away but his grips on stronger. His tongue flicks out to wet his lip, lowering his head to close the gap between them. He enjoys watching you struggle.

”Don’t flirt with me, Michaelis.” You spit, “A typical man, aren’t you? Using sexual advances to get out of an argument.” You take the chance to plant your hands against his chest and push. Sebastian falls back a few steps, spluttering.

“I am not jealous.”

With that, you turn on your heel and begin to walk away; leaving Sebastian in the dark of the night.

As Sebastian stands in the dark and watched your figure disappear into the night sky, he decides that he quite likes this dynamic.

[papil0nglegs]

Detention

(Pico x Reader)

Warnings: School fight, blood, bruising, bullying, swearing, EVERYONE gets their ass beat

A/n: This is based off a ao3 fic that I liked but also hated cuz it had 🍇.. I didn’t read the tags pls. Anyways I’m rlly proud of this fic ha so enjoy

You felt so stupid, you never thought that you’d get into such dumb fights for such dumb reasons. Now you’re stuck in an empty classroom, with two idiots you just finished fighting with. All covered in either blood or bruises, the fuck happened?

Third pov:

Another average morning at school. The hallways were full of teens either walking to class or having a quick chat with their friends.

However, Pico and Darnell had other plans. The two boys were in the middle of a brawl, one in one side of the hallway, and the other in-well the other. All of the students stopped whatever they were doing to watch the two, cheering ‘fight!fight!fight!’, Y/n had been in the middle of the two, trying to grab some books from their locker. They were completely unaware of the fight that they were basically in the middle of since they had their earbuds plugged in on max volume

As y/n went in to grab on of their books, Pico reaches in to grab it from their hands and throw it at Darnell. “Dude!” Y/n yells, raising their hands a bit. Pico ignores them, realizing that he missed the first throw. In a panic, he grabs y/n’s iPod from their hands and pelts it at Darnell’s face.

Y/n gasps and runs towards their dear iPod to try saving it from the fight, but before they can even get near it, Darnell accidentally steps on the screen while getting up. Y/n stops in their tracks, jaw open and eyes widened. They were too late. They quickly look back at Pico, who was getting his ass absolutely handed to him by Darnell, and decides that he’s gonna have to pay for that thing, and not with money.

Once Pico knocks Darnell out on the floor for a bit, y/n tackles him. “What the fuck??” The confused ginger yells while y/n grabs him by his hair and stuffs his head in their open locker. ‘Oh fuck’ and ‘holy shit’s are heard from the audience of students watching as they prepare for what’s about to happen. Suddenly, a bang comes from the locker door and Pico’s head, as y/n slams the door shut with his head stuffed inside. They then do it again, and again, until her arms eventually get tired, and they notice Darnell getting up.

Darnell seems confused at first, until he realizes that he stepped on their iPod. Shit, now he has another opponent. Before he knows it, him and y/n are both giving each other bruises and bloody noses, fists flying everywhere. At least until a few teacher make their way out of the crowd, and quickly separate the three.

Now, y/n is sitting in the third row of some desks in a classroom, while both Pico and Darnell sit behind her. The room is filled with nothing but silence, Pico laying his head on the desk, seemingly asleep. Y/n on the other hand, wasn’t doing much. They didn’t have any homework, nor were they feeling sleepy, so they just had their elbows on the table, holding their head from falling. I mean, what else was there to do? Use their iPod? ..wait

Darnell, sitting behind her, puts his feet up on the top of y/n’s chair, getting dirt in their hair. Now, normally y/n would ask them to stop, or even tell the teacher, but at this point, they didn’t feel like getting anymore trouble for anything else. So they just tried their best to ignore him. Darnell chuckles at their ‘reaction’, then going back to playing with his lighter.

“Darnell!” Mr Roger’s yells, “Do I need to put you in another classroom?” He asks rhetorically. Darnell groans in annoyance, “no sir..” he mumbles. Mr Roger’s sighs, “Darnell, why don’t you just, go get me some papers from the printing room.” Mr Roger’s says waving his hands in a shooing motion, Darnell clicks his tongue, clearly pissed. But he still gets up to go do as he says.

Y/n feels a wave of relief, that Darnell’s dirty shoes aren’t stuffed in their hair anymore. But as soon as they finally find peace, it’s quickly interrupted a paper ball being thrown at them. Out of curiosity, they pick up the paper ball and unwrap it, because of course they did.

“Whats ur name?”

Was written in some shitty Sharpie that Pico found on the floor. He couldn’t find a pencil or even a paper since his backpack was a mess, so he just wrote on his homework that was past due a week ago. Y/n looks back at Pico, who’s head was down as if nothing had happen, they rolled their eyes at the freckled boy. They then look down at the paper, wondering if they should write back or not. Eh, why not.

“Y/n”

Y/n waits until the teacher at the front of the class averts his gaze to something else, throwing the ball back to the ginger. Pico tucks it under his elbow, his head still down. Suddenly, y/n’s heart drops when she hears Mr Roger’s chair creak as he gets up. “I’m gonna go check on Darnell. You two, stay silent.”

As soon as Mr Roger’s steps out of the classroom, a voice is heard from behind y/n. “Sorry that I threw your thing, y/n..” Pico mutters shamefully, y/n looks back at the injured boy. His lip looked busted, and he had bruises around his cheek. Y/n cringes at the sight of his injuries, injuries that they did. “It’s fine.. sorry about the locker.” Pico chuckles at y/n’s apology, shaking his head.

“I uhh, got you something, Yknow, for your lip.” Y/n grabs a cold can of monster from under their desk. Then handing it to pico. “You can drink it too if you want it” Pico grabs the cold drink from their hands, and places it on his bruised cheek. “What song were you listening to anyways? Must’ve been somethin’ pretty loud” He laughs. Y/n blushes a bit in embarrassment of what her answer is, “oh just.. break stuff by limp bizkit”

Pico’s eyes lighten up at her answer, “no fuckin’ way! I love bizkit!!” He smiles, “Lemme guess, your favorite album is significant other?” Y/n laughs, “no, it’s chocolate starfish..”

Pico cracks the can of Monster open, taking a couple of painful sips since his lip was busted. “Your nose still has blood on it by the way” Pico points out, y/n tapping blood that was on their upper lip, seeing dried blood. “Shit.. I don’t have anything to wipe it with” They mutter staring at the dry blood on their finger. “I got some water, gimme a sec” Pico grabs his backpack, and pulls out his water bottle and a crinkle napkin from some fast food place. He begins to pour a little water on the napkin, and makes the ‘come here’ motion with his hand to y/n.

Once y/n scoots closer, bringing their chair with them, he grabs the side of their jaw lightly, moving them closer. Pico wipes the dry blood from y/n’s upper lip. Y/n looks around the room, trying to not stare into picos green eyes, but they eventually fail. The two make eye contact, their faces only an inch or two away from each other. Not knowing what to say about the awkward interaction, she decides to compliment him, because of course they did. “Your hairs really.. pretty” Y/n whispers, “what?” Pico responds, quite confused at the feminine compliment.

“Hey!”

The two heads snap at the door, where Mr Roger’s, along with Darnell, stood. “What did I say about talking?” Darnell chuckles at the state the two were in, “oh shit! Were you two about to kiss?” Darnell laughs, pointing at the two. Pico and y/n both look back at each other, realizing that their current position wasn’t the most.. platonic. Pico and y/n quickly move back to their desks, red faced, rambling about how gross it’d be to even be near each other

“Pfft, whatever you say, lovebirds.” Pico scoffs “fuck you Darnell.” “Okay you two, that’s enough. Pico, Y/n,” He starts, “you two are going to get detention for the whole week. Darnell, you’ll be getting two weeks for sneaking out.” Darnell groans in annoyance.

The group exits the classroom onto the front of the now empty school. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow..” Pico shrugs, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, you too, Pico.” Y/n says before walking away, Pico weakly raising a hand to wave her goodbye.

“Ew, fucking weirdos.”

[delulustateofmind]

Forged in Fire: A New World

A/n: I know I had a similar series to this called Between Worlds, lately I just haven’t felt like writing it. UNTIL I GOT THIS WONDERFUL, SPLENDID idea. Hope you all like it, it’s a different kind of start which I kind of enjoy better? Makes the plot flow nicer than having to create a bunch of OC characters to get the plot going. Let me know what you think. 

Summary: You wake up in a strange place :) Soon to be an Azriel x Reader fic.

Part Two

Warnings: Mentions of Illness, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of blood. WC: 3.1k

The song of birds chirping outside, the rustling of leaves, and the sound of hushed footsteps around the room awoke you.

With a groan, your bleary eyes fluttered open, greeted by a room unfamiliar. Rubbing your eyes to push past the blurriness, you wondered why your head ached so much. You sat up, taking in the room. The giant chandelier was the kicker—you could never in your lifetime own one of those. Your eyes searched the room for anything familiar, anxiety creeping in your stomach.. A maid kept saying your name, but you ignored her. Your gaze constantly shifted around the room, the green walls were lined at the top with wallpaper depicting foxes playing in the tall grass. The russet brown canopy rested above a bed larger than any you’d ever owned, with silk sheets and a velvet comforter. There was a roaring fireplace in your bedroom. 

You weren’t home, in your crappy apartment, anymore.

A maid approached, her brown hair and pale skin accentuated by concerned green eyes. “Miss Y/n? Are you feeling alright?” Her voice was just a whisper, sounding like the autumn wind, and she smelled like spices. Normal people don’t smell like warm ginger and clove. 

You climbed out of bed in a sprint. Not caring about the fancy sheets that just fell onto the floor.

Where the hell were you? 

You sprinted down halls lined with various fall colors and paintings of people with red hair and golden eyes. People gawked as you ran by, soldiers whispering to each other as they glanced at you. Perhaps it was because you were wearing nothing but pantaloons and a white corset top. You didn’t care; you just wanted to leave. You wanted to be back in your crappy apartment. 

Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, sounding like a war drum, until two strong arms caught you and a man that stood a foot taller than you grabbed your sides.

“Y/n, what are you doing out of bed?” His amber eyes seemed to pierce into you, his face a mix of concern and worry as his gaze constantly shifted from the people walking about the halls back to you. Your heart was pounding, and you were panting from running. Why the hell were these hallways so long? You just stared at him, his honeyed voice repeatedly asking, "What’s going on?”

You were about to respond when a sharp, metallic taste filled your mouth. Your eyes widened in panic as you choked, coughing violently. Your hand flew to your lips, and when you pulled it away, it was smeared with blood. 

Normal people don’t cough up blood when they run, do they?

The male's eyes widened in horror as he saw your blood-stained lips and crimson-covered palm. "Shit," he whispered, his voice trembling with urgency. Without a second thought, he scooped you into his arms, his grip tight and desperate.

Fear surged through you as you clung to him, your vision blurring. The strong, steady beat of his heart against your cheek was the only thing grounding you as everything else started to fade. The world spun around you, colors and shapes blending into a dizzying swirl.

"Hold on," he urged, his voice a strained whisper, filled with a mix of fear and determination. You could hear the pounding of footsteps and the frantic murmur of voices as he carried you through the endless hallways.

The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was his face, etched with worry, his amber eyes filled with a desperate plea for you to hold on. You tried to focus on his voice, his warmth, but the world spun faster and faster until it all faded to black.

******

You awoke again in the same bed. You were definitely not in Los Angeles anymore, you murmured to yourself. When you tried to sit up, a loud, “Don’t,” caught your attention. The male who had carried you was there, now without his fancy silk-lined coat. His hair was tousled a bit too much as he sat in a chair across the room, drinking a glass of whiskey. 

You stared back at him as you hesitated, then eased back into the bed, earning a hum of approval from him as he began to walk over.

“Why were you running around like a heathen?” he sneered, his voice tinged with anger, yet his face was full of concern. “What if Mother or Father saw you? Hm?” He drawled as he walked over to the side of the bed, taking a spot near your legs. “You don’t wake up for three weeks and now you’re running a dead sprint?” His laugh was dark and breathless, laden with worry. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands clenched the edge of the bed. It was as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check, to mask the fear that lurked beneath his harsh words. 

“I... I didn’t know where I was,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I was scared.”

His expression softened slightly, the anger fading into something more like resignation. “You should have stayed in bed,” he said quietly, his tone less harsh now. “You’re not well, Y/n. You need to rest.”

The memory of coughing up blood flashed in your mind, and a shiver ran through you. “Why did I... why did that happen?” you asked, fear creeping into your voice. That had never happened back home. Why now? Why in this place?

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled red hair. “You’re sick, Y/n, you’ve always been sick. You have a weak heart. Can you… not remember?” His last statement seemed like it was meant more for himself than for you. 

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the worry was plain to see. “Just promise me you’ll stay put,” he said, his voice softening further. “I can’t lose you again.”

You hesitated before nodding. “Can… can I ask you a question?” you muttered under your breath. Would he think you were crazy? The man looked awfully pissed off given the circumstances, yet you felt a deep connection with him.

He looked at you, his brows furrowing, but he nodded. You continued, “Who are you? Or rather, where am I?” His eyes softened into what looked like a pang of sadness.

“So you really do have memory loss…” he whispered to himself. “My name is Eris. I am your eldest brother.” His voice quivered, and you could see the pain etched into his features. “We are in our home in the Autumn Court. You remember the Forest House, don’t you?” he whispered.

Your hands trembled as you stared at the intricate designs embedded into the bedding. The Autumn Court? The Forest House? Like from that one hit series, SJM put out. You’d read the books—for crying out loud, who hadn’t? This had to be a terrible dream. Perhaps you were working too late last night. You shouldn’t have eaten that Chinese food you left in the fridge for too long. You looked up to find those russet-colored eyes piercing you, full of worry and concern.

“You don’t know who any of us are, do you?” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “The healers said your condition got worse, that we shouldn’t have brought you with us during the war. The environment would be too much for your heart.” He crept closer, his palm landing gently on your cheek. “Sister, please, I need… I need you to remember me. Okay? Please, try your best. I need you to remember the good within me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, your own. His words resonated deeply within you, pushing aside your other thoughts of home. There was something achingly familiar about his touch, his voice.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ll try to remember.”

Eris’s eyes softened even more, his thumb brushing away your tears. “Thank you,” he murmured. “That’s all I ask. Now, I am reluctant to leave you, but I have a meeting in Hewn City.”

With both his hands, he cupped your cheeks, his touch gentle yet urgent. “I’m going to give us a better life.”

The way his eyes settled on you with concern, you could tell he didn’t want to leave you here. Given all the context, you had been asleep for three weeks, of course he wouldn’t want to leave. Eris moved away from you, grabbing the glass of water on the nightstand and bring it to your lips. You drank the water, but you could sense something else within it. Within moments you passed out yet again. 

That jerk, how dare he drug you to sleep. 

******

Eris entered Hewn City a few hours later, his steps heavy with responsibility. As he navigated the bustling streets, his mind raced with thoughts of the meeting ahead. This alliance was crucial, not only for the prosperity of the Autumn Court but also for the future of his family.

Finally arriving at the grand estate, Eris made his way through the ornate corridors until he reached the study, where he found Keir engrossed in paperwork.

“You got me that meeting with your high lord, right?” Eris drawled as he lazily collapsed into the armchair. Today was going to be a long day, he thought. First, his sister had woken up three weeks after passing out due to the cold. Beron, his father, suggested—or rather, forced—all of the children to go to the war camp, to prove a united force. Within days, your condition worsened, and you were bedridden. Eris would never forget that, the way his father would have just let you die there. You were a year younger than Lucien, at least you were Beron’s actual child. He should at least treat you as such. 

Of course, Mother cared about you; she had always wanted a daughter. A sickly one? Not so much. Beron always blamed her for how sick you were, claiming it was because she was ‘tainted’ from another High Lord. It only made the abuse worse on the Lady of Autumn.

“They should be here within the hour,” Keir grumbled, pulling Eris from his thoughts. Eris needed this alliance to work, not just so he could be High Lord, but so he could give all of his siblings a better life. Give himself a better life.

Eris sipped on the whiskey in his hand, feeling the familiar burn as it slid down his throat. He despised a lot of things: the biting cold that seemed to seep into his bones, Keir and his pathetic city that revolved around torture and sexist ideals, and above all, his father—enough to make him contemplate murder.

As he sat in the study, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, Eris couldn't help but feel a simmering anger deep within him. The whiskey provided a temporary reprieve, numbing the edge of his rage, but it was always there, lurking beneath the surface like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt.

He took another sip, the bitterness of the alcohol mingling with the bitterness of his thoughts. With each swallow, he felt a flicker of defiance, a silent vow to defy the oppressive forces that sought to control him and his family.

Eris may have hated many things, but he refused to let that hatred consume him. Instead, he channeled it into determination, a determination to carve out a better future for himself and those he cared about, no matter the cost.

Within the hour, the Inner Circle arrived, though not in its entirety. Eris felt a flicker of relief that Mor was absent; her presence would only complicate matters further. He watched as they took their seats at the table, Feyre’s gaze piercing him with undisguised disgust, joined by similar expressions from Cassian and Azriel. It was natural—they all hated him. But Eris reassured himself that their opinions didn’t matter. All he needed was a powerful alliance.

As the meeting began, Eris steeled himself, his mind focused on the task at hand. He would do whatever it took to secure the support of the Night Court, even if it meant enduring their scorn and disdain. In the end, the only thing that mattered was achieving his goals and ensuring the survival of his family.

“What do you want, Eris?” Rhysand drawled with a look of boredom, his tone laced with skepticism. With a wave of his hand, wine glasses appeared in front of everyone on the table.

Eris took a moment to compose himself, hiding any hint of desperation that threatened to surface. “I need an alliance,” he began, his voice steady and controlled. “I plan on taking the throne soon. And I have a humble request of sorts.”

Rhysand brought the glass of wine to his lips, his violet eyes locked onto Eris’s russet ones without wavering. “My mother could handle herself in the attack, my sister, however—” he paused, his voice cool and measured, “I want protection over her.”

Feyre’s expression, initially one of disgust, morphed into confusion as she glanced at Rhysand, who didn’t return her gaze but instead settled a comforting hand on top of hers.

“I was unaware you had a sister, Eris,” Rhysand remarked, swirling the wine in his glass as he continued to observe Eris with an unreadable expression.

“She’s sick, a weak heart of sorts,” Eris continued, his tone softening slightly as he spoke of his sister. “Along with the resources to take down my father, I would want her protected. Perhaps to stay in the Night Court,” he suggested, his voice carefully measured.

Eris knew he was treading on thin ice, but the prospect of securing protection for his sister was worth the risk. He hoped that by appealing to their sense of compassion and strategic advantage, he could convince the Inner Circle to agree to his request.

Feyre was the first to speak, her tone cautious as she addressed Eris. “You want her protected here? I’m assuming away from Hewn City,” she observed, her gaze shifting briefly to Keir, who remained surprisingly silent during the meeting, apparently unaware that Eris had a sister. “What do we gain from this ‘protection’? It seems like you are requesting a lot, yet you haven’t mentioned what you would give in return.”

Eris understood Feyre’s skepticism. He needed to present a compelling offer if he hoped to secure their assistance. Taking a deep breath, he considered his response carefully, aware that every word mattered.

“I understand your concerns, Feyre,” he began, his voice steady. “In return for your protection over my sister, I am willing to offer valuable resources and information that could aid you in your endeavors. I also pledge my loyalty to the Night Court, and I am prepared to assist in any way I can to further our mutual goals.”

Eris held his breath, waiting for their response, hoping that his offer would be enough to sway them in his favor.

Feyre considered Eris’s words carefully, her expression never faltering as she weighed his offer. After a moment of silence, she spoke, her voice measured yet decisive. 

“You offer is intriguing, Eris,” she began, her tone betraying a hint of cautious optimism. “Protection for your sister in exchange for valuable resources and your loyalty could indeed prove beneficial for us. Especially if you are willing to give any information about Autumn court to us.”

Rhysand, who had been observing the exchange in silence, letting his mate take charge, finally spoke. His voice, though commanding, held a hint of intrigue as he addressed Eris. “Indeed, Eris,” he said, his violet eyes glinting with curiosity. “Your offer holds promise. But tell me, how sick is your sister?”

Eris noted the bored expression on Rhysand's face, recognizing the calculated indifference that often masked deeper curiosity. He cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. "My sister's condition is delicate," he replied, his tone solemn. "Her heart is weak, and she requires constant care and protection."

Rhysand nodded thoughtfully, his gaze flickering to Feyre for a moment before returning to Eris. "Very well," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of finality. "We will discuss the details of your sister's stay in the Night Court further. But for now, let us focus on solidifying our alliance."

The paperwork was written right then and there, the terms of the alliance carefully outlined and agreed upon by both parties. Cassian, the general of the Night Court, seemed skeptical, his sharp eyes darting between Eris and the documents laid out before them. Meanwhile, Rhysand had discreetly spoken to Azriel, instructing him to have his spies gather any information they could find about Eris's sister in the Autumn Court, ensuring that Eris did not overhear the command.

Azriel nodded silently, his expression unreadable as he swiftly winnowed away, disappearing into the shadows to carry out his task.

Left alone with the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, Eris felt a sense of anticipation mingled with apprehension. This alliance could be the key to securing his family's future, but he knew that their trust was not easily earned. He resolved to tread carefully, mindful of the delicate balance of power that hung in the air.

Eris was just thankful you wouldn’t have to stay in the depths of Hewn City, while he had never been to Velaris. The city was spoken to be a safe place, safe from any enemies. Rhysand had ensured Eris that you would be protected as long as you would not be a threat. The place in which you would be staying was still to be communicated, though it seemed likely that you would be staying with their head healer at her cottage, to ensure your health was taken into consideration. Also, far away from any information that you could possibly overhear from what Eris had understood by the underlying threat. 

In four nights, you would be winnowed to the city of Velaris. His sister would be leaving the oppressive reign of Beron, a chance to give you for the first time in your three hundred years of life a chance for freedom- a fresh start.  

In four nights, the downfall of Beron would begin. 

[in-my-feels-probably]

Could u do an imagine where reader's hair is red and daemon's absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you.

Would u consider doing an imagine where its basically daemon and the reader have a love /hate relationship but then they confess their love when Daemon comes back from tbe StepStones

My Fire

Request: Could u do an imagine where reader’s hair is red and daemon’s absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you

Hi! I love this request, it’s so cute. I wish I had red hair, I’ve dyed it a wine color before, but I’m considering dying it a copper color at some point. I didn’t know if you wanted bright red hair, or something like ginger, so I left it kinda up to the reader, I hope that’s ok. Also, I made the reader fem, and a friend of Rhaenyra from another house, so I could make sense of the reader's hair color. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

And yes, I can write that other request, just submit an ask with any ideas or details you want and I’ll add it to the list.

(Warnings: i don't think there are any, maybe an ooc daemon, let me know if i missed any)

—

Rhaenyra had finally convinced you to let her braid your hair, framing pieces around your face and twisting the strands into intricate designs all around your head. You normally kept it simple, and out of your face, pulled back neatly. 

With the amount of time you spent with Rhaenyra, often on dragonback, you didn’t have the time to fiddle with your hair, as it would get tangled anyway. 

Even then, you had no great love for your hair. The high born boys of your house often made fun, teasing you about the color. As you grew older, the boys turned to men, and the comments became a lot cruder. Rhaenyra, ever the fiery spirit, always had your back. You were a handful of years older than her, and it was quite funny to see a little girl instill fear in boys twice her height. Although, you supposed that had more to do with her father being the King, and her Uncle, who had quite the reputation, being fiercely protective over the pair of you.

Rhaenyra often begged to have you let her do something with your hair, so you could hold your head high and walk with confidence, and you finally caved to her incessant pestering. And you had to admit, you did look quite nice when she finished. 

“You have plans with my Uncle today, do you not?” Rhaenyra asked, smirking.

You raised a brow, watching her grin. “You’re such a little meddler! Is that why you kept asking? I swear, you’re too much like your Uncle.”

“That’s why you love him,” she laughed, blocking her face from the pillow you slung her way. “And he loves your hair, you know that. Why hide it from him?”

You groaned, hiding your heated cheeks in your palms. “Gods, you really are like him. I bet he put you up to this. You two are always a recipe for a disaster. You could take down the Seven Kingdoms if you put your mind to it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Bold plans, for a later time. For now…you have to meet with my Uncle. Off you go, now.”

She shooed you away from her, blowing a kiss in your direction. You rolled your eyes, opening her chamber door. “I’ll get you back for this. And him too. You both have nothing on me. You should be scared!”

You accepted Ser Harwin’s arm as he closed the door behind you, guiding you down the steps that led towards the Dragon Pit. 

“Thank you, Ser.”

He smiled and nodded, returning to his post outside Rhaenyra’s door. “Good day, My Lady.”

You made your way to the pit, anxiously awaiting your day with Daemon. You arrived to see him standing in front of Caraxes, seemingly talking to him. You laughed to yourself, watching Caraxes find you in his sight, perking up at your presence. 

You whistled, smiling as Caraxes bristled, letting out a happy shrill that mimicked yours.

Daemon turned at the sound of your voice, a grin creeping its way onto his face at the sight of you. He smiled, a genuine rare smile, holding his hand out for you to take. 

“My Lady,” he greeted, as you stepped up to greet Caraxes. The dragon lowered his head, letting you run a light hand down his nose. 

Daemon watched you in awe, amazed at how he managed to get a girl like you. As far as he was concerned, the whole of the Seven Kingdoms paled in comparison to the woman who was akin to fire. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I was going to say you look beautiful, but that’s a bit of an understatement. You’re always beautiful.”

His smirk grew as he watched you fight the flush in your cheeks, and he continued on to save you from the embarrassment of stuttering like a fool in front of him, which he regularly made you do.

“I see Rhaenyra finally got her hands on you,” he said, twisting a loose curl around his finger. 

“She did,” you nodded. “I’m not quite sure what her fascination with it is. Who knows how many times I’ve wished for hers. Your family has beautiful hair. I’ve hardly ever met anyone with mine, aside from a few Tully’s. Even so, theirs is auburn, they blend in well enough. I might as well have lit a flame atop my head.”

“That’s a good thing. Everyone else is dreadfully boring. You stand out.” 

Daemon was still transfixed with your hair, twirling it around his finger. You watched him, amused.

“I suppose so. As do you. But yours is regarded as royal. It shines like a silver star. What is mine like? A..uh, a–”

“A dragon,” He interrupted your thoughts, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. You held your breath under his icy gaze. He reassured you a second time. “Like a dragon.”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head, confused. 

Daemon gazed down at you thoughtfully, gently moving you to stand behind him. You remained silent and followed his lead as he led you to the edge of the pit, where Caraxes had settled. He kept a protective arm in front of you, although he knew Caraxes wouldn’t harm you. 

“Caraxes,” He called, clicking his tongue to get the dragon’s attention. “Sōvegon.”

Fly.

Caraxes flapped his wings, lifting into the sky. 

“Dracarys!” 

Caraxes let a tumbling roar emerge from his throat, breathing fire into the sky above him. 

You watched in wonder, feeling the heat on your skin as the flames danced in the sky. Daemon slid his hand into yours, turning your attention back to him. 

“You’re like a dragon, with hair to match. Flames and heat, scorching to the touch. Like an inferno, embers dancing in the sky. You might not have the hair of a Targaryen, but you have the heart of one. Caraxes can sense it, and I can sense it. You’re akin to fire, like me. And it’s beautiful. Wear it with pride. Wear it with power.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, filled with overwhelming emotion. You squeezed his hand in yours, and he bent down, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Issa gevie, se iksā gevie. Ñuha mele. Ñuha perzys. Ñuha zaldrīzes.”

It is beautiful, and you are beautiful. My red. My fire. My dragon. 

You brought a palm up to rest on his cheek, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, before running your fingers through his hair. 

“Ñuha qēlos,” you returned, watching Daemon fight the flush that crept onto his cheeks.

My star.

“Aōhon,” he nodded, holding you close to him, one of his hands finding its way back into your curls.

Yours.

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is kinda short, I’ve been really busy and haven’t had the chance to write. This was my first time writing for Daemon, I hope it’s alright. 

[orchideous-nox]

I love your stuff so much!! I was wondering if maybe you had some headcanons for some of the girls?? I'd love to hear them :3

Hi anon, thank you so much! This is so fun, I want to yap about the girls more often so I guess this is a good starting point!!!

Lily

I love Lily so much, since dying my hair ginger one of my favourite comments I get on tiktok is people saying I look like how they picture Lily which is the biggest compliment. I hc Lily as being bi and currently my favourite person to ship her with is Pandora but I have Chappell Roan related plans to write a one-shot of MaryLily. Lily's favourite flowers are daisies and angel's breath and you can find them in her hair during the summer. She loves to read either by the fire when it's cold or under a tree in the park in July. She's an omnivert and enjoys quiet study sessions with Remus where they don't have to talk but also is very happy to be dragged up to do karaoke with Mary and Marlene. Her favourite colour is sage green because it brings out her freckles and her favourite season is spring because she says "the air just smells different". Also plus-size Lily all the way!

Mary

Mary is a girl's girl. She is the one who teaches the younger students how to do their makeup and and is the chief hair braider. She has a diary the whole way through school and she writes all of her juiciest secrets in there because she knows all the gossip about everyone and keeps them all in the bottom of her trunk. Her favourite song would either be Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac or Does Your Mother Know by ABBA. She is the biggest flirt with everybody and the real Casanova of Gryffindor Tower. Her signature lip gloss is cherry scented and everyone is the group has had at least one kiss on the cheek from her which has left a pinky-red lip gloss mark there. If I was going to assign a fc for her it would be Rachel Chinouriri, I think she's so beautiful and the Mary vibes are just there.

Marlene

Marlene being from Manchester is so real for me. She grew up supporting Manchester United and went to the matches with her dad. She is the masc lesbian of my dreams (I saw someone who looked like her once and I might have fell a little bit in love) and they own the wolfcut. Marls can be sighted wearing a little top (baby tee/ tight crop top) and big pants (literally the baggiest jeans you have ever seen). When Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis comes on, she is singing the loudest. Marlene never came out, everyone just knew they are gay and when they got their first girlfriend everyone just shrugged and was like "cool". Marlene uses she/they pronouns and will punch anyone in the dick if they are mean to her friends. She absolutely adores Dorcas and is like "my girlfriend" at any opportunity. You can catch Marlene dancing along to Seventeen Going Under by Sam Fender because "he just gets me", she she will insist he is the only man she could ever love just to annoy the Marauders boys.

Pandora

My Ravenclaw girliiieeee!! If you couldn't tell, Pandora has really grown on me recently and I am slowly working up to writing a fic where she is in the main ship. Pandora being a Ravenclaw like Luna is so important to me and I hc her as a Rosier and is Evan's twin when I write her, but not the way that people normally write them. Pandora is very adamant that she is her own person and there is more to her than being a twin. She loves her experiments which we know from canon, she would have loved watching How Its Made (the tv show), and was that kid who would take things apart to see how they work. She collects insects like butterflies, moths and beetles and keeps them in a display in her room and has pet stick insects that she loves to freak people out with. Pandora would LOVE Paris Paloma, she's vibing with Labour and Notre Dame and The Fruits. Although I said I love shipping Lily with Pandora, Xenophilius and Pandora (xenodora) have my heart, I love them, they are my favourite straight-presenting queer couple. I think they chose the surname Lovegood when they got married (I hc Xeno as a disowned Malfoy) which I know a few people hc. I could talk about Pandora forever but I will move on.

Dorcas

Last but not least, Dorcas! She's the kind of girl who calls everyone babydoll (Barty loves it). She's such an it-girl and would be the person you see on Instagram posing in front of the houses in Kensington with her iced coffee. Dorcas is taalllll and has legs for days, models should be glad she decided to stick to being the office siren. Her favourite hobbies are judgingly people watching in the window seat of coffee shops, and taming her girlfriend to stop them from trying to fight everyone who looks at the two of them funny. Everyone thinks Dorcas hates them at first (even Marlene who spend months thinking Dorcas was rebuffing her advances), but she just looks at everyone like that, she shows her love by being mean. Dorcas loves to listen to Rina Sawayama, her favourite song is STFU!

I'm just gonna stick with those 5 for now because they're the ones I write in my fics. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to yap about them!!! <3

[tkdrawz]

Some of the TMNT fandom (and, frankly, society) really ain't shit.🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️

[From left to right: Princess Fiona (Ogress Form) (Shrek) Eep (The Croods) Gloria (Madagascar) Dijonay Jones (The Proud Family) Luisa Madrigal (Encanto) April O'Neil (TMNT Mutant Mayhem)]

These ladies are female protagonists in their respective franchises. All of them have different body types that contrast from the default thin, petite body type that we're used to seeing. And all of them are BEAUTIFUL! 💖

Three of these ladies became love interests that ended up in healthy relationships with partners who love them for who they are. Also, four of them are women of color. (idk if Fiona counts. While she is green, she started off white so... 50/50? 🤷🏾‍♀️) That part is especially relevant to this post because Twitter got me EFFED UP. I'M ON ONE, ON TWO, ON THREE TODAY!

So the concept art of Mutant Mayhem's April O'Neil was revealed by James A. Castillo, an artist who worked on the movie.

And people are DRAGGING HIM LEFT AND RIGHT! Being disrespectful to both him and April's design. I can tell you right now not even a third of those quotes aren't positive! There is a vast difference between criticism and insults:

💛"I do not like this design. Besides the color yellow and her red/ginger hair, she simply doesn't read as April O'Neil." That's criticism. This expresses disproval of the design without any vulgarities.

💔"Rethink your entire career. "Artist" my ass! This shit is garbage! She looks like she sleeps in a van and smokes so much weed she reeks of it. You failed." That's disrespect. And I don't think I need to tell you why.

Normally, I tend not to discuss such sensitive topics on my blog (religion, politics, discrimination of ANY kind, etc.) for my sanity and out of respect for others with opposing views. But today, I will make an exception.

I would love to include Luisa, who alongside April was mocked and disrespected heavily for her appearance, but I wanted to speak on this matter from the perspective of a plus-sized African American woman. Luisa comes from an completely different background whose culture and standards I am not entirely familiar with. I can't speak on what I don't know. Respectfully.💜

In the black community, women are faced with colorism, texturism, constant comparison, and body image negativity on a daily basis. And a good amount of it comes from our own community! Our shade, our 4C hair, our weight, our attractiveness, our lifestyle! It's brutal out here!😭😭😭

However, in terms of media a plus-sized black girl is seen as ghetto, loud, and undesirable with a side of attitude. The best example I can think of is Dijonay from The Proud Family.

This is the show I grew up on! The theme song, the characters, the Suga Mama, ICONIC! I love Dijonay to pieces, but as I grew up I realize that she was, in some aspects, a negative portrayal. She was always chasing instead of being "the chase". She was a horrible friend to Penny. And she sucumbed to a lot of negative stereotypes with barely any redeeming qualities. And this was very disheartening considering that she was the darkest one in the group. And the heaviest. And as a little chubby wubby in the 2000s with THIS as my representation? I have to give the writers a bit of the side eye. Was she any better in The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder? To that I would say.... meh. I love her in the reboot, but they could do so much more with her in my opinion. I still haven't seen them address the issue of colorism. 👀

While she is not a human, Gloria is voiced by a black woman (Jada Pinkett Smith) and imitates the sass of a black woman so... yeah. She's included. Gloria was persued by two men. One was the suave, flexing hippo Motto Motto. And the other was her friend/neighbor from her childhood Melman. She chose the latter for good reason of course. Now in Madagascar, Gloria wasn't mocked or criticized for her weight. In fact, hippos are known for their weight. However, she was seemingly fetishized for it. By Motto Motto to be exact. And being fetishized is NOT better than being ridiculed.

Unlike Dijonay, April was the chase, a love interest for Leonardo. I admit, I was SHOCKED that she was gonna be persued. Let alone that the writers wanted to try another Turtle/April pairing considering how April and Donnie went...😬. Now her backlash was on a completely different level. One that I wasn't even prepared for....

While Gloria and Dijonay are original characters, Mutant Mayhem's April O'Neil is a different interpretation of the character that has existed since the 80's. The same can be said for the Turtles, Splinter, literally everybody else! Every show and movie for that matter! And with every story, she changes. Design, motivation, relationships/dynamics, even race as of lately. All of it changes. And change isn't bad. In my opinion, it keeps things fresh and interesting instead of spoon feeding us the same story and concepts over and over again. Change challenges us. Change motivates us. However, some people don't like change nor want to accept it and adjust. And that's life. That's just the way it is. But change is necessary in order to progress.

She wasn't bad in the movie AT ALL. I absolutely adored her! And the dynamic between her and Leo wasn't akward or uncomfortable at all. It was handled really well. Ayo Ediberi did an incredible job bringing her to life! (GOD, I loved her in The Bear! Shameless plug lol)

That being said, I understand some of the sensitivity that fans have when a character changes so drastically you can barely recongnize them anymore beyond the bare minimun. (See also Sonic Boom's Knuckles) But the blatant discrimination, rude comments, and the boldness, THE AUDACITY, that some of these nasty Twitter fingers with their dirty fingernails have to type such disrespect to the artist that I can't repeat up here was wild af. Like, I can't believe we have to share a planet with some of them! Uggh!😷(But that's Twitter 24/7 so what's new?) Her and Rise April don't deserve the hate they get. You don't have to like them. Art is subjective. But to insult and harrass the artists and the people who look like the characters, then mask it under the umbrella of "tHaTs mY oPiNiOn" is 🐱. I said what I said. And I will say that shit again.

Also, just because she's black doesn't mean we can't have another white April O'Neil ever again. We know goodness well they could make another iteration of TMNT and make her white if they wanted to. Heck, I encourage them to explore other races and cultures too! New York is full of them! And it's not like all the other versions of April up and vanished. You can watch them anytime on Hulu, Netflix, Paramount Plus, etc.

One more point I'd like to make is that I am an African American woman who is currently on a weight loss journey. As a plus-sized girl, I had incredibly low self-esteem and picked up toxic, unhealthy eating habits from starving myself to overeating BECAUSE I starved myself. Also, I have experienced both sides from being disrespected and made fun of to being complimented and persued. I was at my biggest weight 2 years ago and I have made incredible progress to lose weight since then. People can lose weight. It is achievable! I went to school with some people who were way bigger than me that lost the weight by senior year! Just because she's big in this movie doesn't mean she can't lose weight by the sequel. Like I've said before, it's not wrong to encourage health and fitness!💪🏾 In life, they call this a glow up. A "remember how you treated them in high school" type of comeback. People can, and are allowed to, change. And it's not wrong to embrace your body and the skin you're in. It's all relative!💖

This post isn't to convince you to change your mind. And it won't make the bullies go away. I can't change the world overnight, nor am I trying to. At the end of the day, you're the consumer. It's your choice. Your prefrence. I can't tell you how to think.

I just wanted to spread a bit of awareness that plus sized people exist. And they will always exist. Everyone is deserving of representation in media in all facets. No matter their shape, size, shade, or sexuality. There are so many people from different walks of life who deserve to be seen and on screen. And the amount of visibility for black girls this year alone is amazing! And I want the same for other women of color, too!

Don't let this trash ass society and the people in it who prefer AI/robots over human beings, fake over real, and bad over good tell you otherwise. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YES I AM TALKING TO YOU. YOU ARE AMAZING! YOU DESERVE ALL THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE AND MORE. YOUR STORY CAN CHANGE LIVES. BEING A GOOD, HARD WORKING PERSON DOES PAY OFF IN THE LONG RUN! YOU ABSOLUTELY MATTER IN THIS LIFE AND THE NEXT. WE SEE YOU. I SEE YOU. AND I ADORE YOU. RAISE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, ADJUST YOUR CROWN, WEAR IT PROUD, AND DO YOUR BEST!

Be good to one another. Take care.

💙 -TK

[13as07]

Spitting Image Prequel

(Gaara Sabaku Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Bev-Nap]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 4,240

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Alcohol drinking/Drunk sex

Soft boi virgin Gaara

Praising/“Good Boy”

Hickeys/Scratch Marks

Mommy kink (you can’t convince me that Gaara doesn’t have a mommy kink)

Pleasure kink

Begging

Oral (female receiving)

Creampie

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The neon lights of the bar cut through the darkness, pulling me towards it like a moth. This day has sucked, this week has sucked, this month has sucked. Plus, the promise of cheap margaritas is almost impossible to deny. I'm a sucker for a cheap alcohol-induced night.

     "Welcome in! Margaritas are two hundred yen a glass tonight!" The short-haired bartender calls out, a toothy grin on her face.

     "Start me off with a strawberry margarita," I order, sliding into an empty barstool at the counter. "Then slide me a lime one once it's done."

     "So start your second one as soon as I'm done with your first?" She asks a laugh following her words.

     "Ya, pretty much," I giggle out too, slapping my ID onto the counter before laying six hundred yen on top. "Keep the extra as a tip, love."

     "Damn, already sweet talking me. One strawberry and one lime marg coming up," the bartender says, snatching up my ID and the cash. She glances at my ID, checking my age before sliding it into the tab box alongside another twenty or thirty others.

It doesn’t take long for my drinks to come. As promised, I down the first one before taking my time with the second. As I’m sipping on the lime drink, the taste of it justifying the price, a voice rings out. “Sorry ma’am, but is this seat taken?”

I turn my head towards the voice, a shorter man with a head of shaggy red hair at the end of the sound. His hair interests me, it’s a dark red instead of the normal pale-red gingers tend to be. I wonder if it’s a dye job. “No, it’s not taking, sunshine.”

“O…oh,” the man stutters, slowly sliding into the stool next to me. “Thank you, for the seat,” he mumbles, a hand running through his hair. When his hair flips up because of the movement, a tattooed red mark is exposed on his forehead, only interesting me even more.

“Of course. No lady likes to drink alone,” I answer, the buzz of my margs setting in. “No girl likes to buy her drinks either.”

The man’s eyes blink slowly, exposing the black circles around his eyes. How cute, a hot ginger that’s good at eyeliner. “Would… would you like me to buy you a drink? Is that what you’re asking?”

I let out a deep laugh as a smile cracks across my face. “You don’t get hit on often do you?”

Another round of slow blinking before a soft “no” peeps out.

“Yes, I’m asking you to buy me a drink.”

The man’s face scrunches, nonexistent eyebrows smashed together. The red is totally a dye job. “What would you like to drink?”

“A mango margarita, please, sunshine.”

Mr Sunshine stumbles over his words as he orders a drink for himself and me. His eyes are wide and stuck on me as we wait for our drinks, the intenseness of his stare poking at my nerves. “So… I haven’t seen you around the village before. Are you from the Leaf or just passing through?”

“I am from the Village Hidden in the Sand.”

“Oh, that’s… cool. Whatcha doing here then?”

“I was meeting with your village’s Hokage,” he mutters, eyes flickering down to our drinks being set on the countertop.

“Oh, so you’re a Shinobi then?” I ask, my interest sparked even more. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m a bit of a band chaser. I don’t know what it is, but Shinobis just do it for me. Besides, they’re the best for one-night stands. There’s a million of them and they’re usually too busy for anything more than a rang and bang.

“Um… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” I ask, downing my drink quicker than I probably should. “Well, if I ask if your hair is naturally red are you going to say you guess so?” I add, shifting closer to the man.

“I… um… yes, I’m… I’m naturally a redhead,” the man stutters, his cheeks quickly growing the same shade as his hair. “And you… you’re really close to my face.”

I let out a hum, slowly backing away from the shinobi. “Sorry, I’m coming off a little strong,” I mutter, waving down the bartender, who goes into action starting another drink. What’s that? Number four? Maybe I should slow down. Mr Shinobi is still nursing drink number one. “Not much of a drinker are you?”

“No, I am not. I’m only here because my brother wants to ‘get blasted’ before his wedding,” the man says, the words ‘get blasted’ falling out of his mouth like it left a nasty taste behind. “I am just here because he said I have to be.”

“What is it that you don’t like about drinking?” I ask, trying to push the conversation forward.

“I do not like my senses being unbeneficial. Besides, most alcohol does not taste good.”

“Well duh, you ordered a double shot of whiskey. If you want something that tastes good you need to get something fruity, like my margaritas. Want to try?” I push my untouched glass towards him, encouraging him to try something different.

“My sister says margaritas are girly drinks.”

“So? Who cares what your sister thinks?”

The man’s eyes settle on me again, his eyes round and full of confusion. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because I’m a little more than buzzed and you’re a little more than hot,” I answer honestly, shifting closer to him. I rest a hand on his knee, resting my head against his so I can whisper in his ear. “Besides, I love the sight of a ginger on his knees.”

“You wish to have sex?” The man asks, his eyes widened again and hands fluttering up and down my arms. “You… you wish for me…. To…?”

I let out a few giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek before I settle in my seat again. “Yes, but not until I slow down or until you catch up a bit, Sunshine.”

The Shinobi blinks a couple of times before his focus shifts to the drink I pushed toward him. He picks it up, downing it in a few gulps before setting the glass back down. “I do not like mangoes.”

I laugh again, sliding my nails over the inside of his thigh as I do so. “We could have ordered you a different flavor you know. What fruits do you like?”

“Apples.”

“Then let’s get you an apple margarita, ya?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, leaning closer as his eyes glare into mine. The closeness and intensity spook me a bit. “You are a strange person.”

“Why do you say that?”

“People usually don’t enjoy my… company.”

“You’re pretty, I don’t know who wouldn’t enjoy your company. But enough about your looks, you got any hobbies?”

The boy seems even more confused like he’s never given his looks any thought. “Plants,” he races out, eyes glancing at the apple-mixed drink that the bartender has left on the counter.

“Oh ya? I love plants. Willow trees are my favorite though,” I say, going on a ramble about the planet. The man nods along with my rant, his eyes locked on me the whole time. They’re pretty, slit, and a soft opal color. Dear Lord, all I can imagine is those pretty eyes looking up at me as he sits on his knees. “What’s your favorite plant, sunshine?”

“Barrel cactus!” He races out, blinking at me on repeat again. I get the feeling the man has never talked about himself before. “I… I mean, barrel cactus,” he says in a softer tone this time.

“Ya? Why’s that?”

                   ————————————

     The Sand Shinobi clung to me is as red as his hair, cheeks heated as his head presses into my neck. “You are pretty,” he murmurs against my throat, his body weight pressed into me.

“You are hot,” I compliment back, swaying a bit because of the man’s weight and the alcohol flowing through my system.

“No, you are like really pretty and nice and your skin is so soft, and oh my that sounds murderous,” the redhead mumbles on and on, his hands sliding over my bare arms as he nuzzles his nose against me. “You are so nice. Did I tell you that? You have been really nice to me. I want you to feel nice. Let me make you feel nice. Please?”

The high-ranked shinobi’s ‘please’ comes out whiney, turning my gears even more as I unlock my front door. “Ya? You want to make me feel nice?” I mumble, throwing my things onto the table next to the front door.

“Please? I want you to feel nice, so bad. Let me make you feel nice,” the redhead begs, his hands wandering up and down my shirt, gripping the material like he might fall over without me.

While we were at the bar we talked about what he does for work. I don’t know what any of the things he said meant but he kept talking about the Kage palace so he must be some kind of high rank ninja. Having such a highly regarded shinobi begging to go down on me only turns me on more.

“You want to make me feel nice, sunshine?” I ask, shifting in his hold so we’re face-to-face. His head shakes like crazy, and his eyes are soft for the first time tonight but still locked on me like I’m the core of the Earth. “Be a good boy and kneel for me, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathes out, sinking to his knees, his hands sliding down to grip my hips as he moves.

“Dear lord,” I mutter, the sight of the shinobi looking up at me rushing arousal down my body. His head is lead against me, chin gently pressed against the waistband of my pants, eyes locked on me, and hands gripping my love handles. “You look so hot right now.”

“You are beautiful. You are the moon. You are the stars hung in the sky,” he mutters, eyes intensely on my face as he looks up at me. “But I do not know what I’m doing.”

“What?” I ask, toying with the ends of his hair. “Have you never gone down on a girl before?”

“I have never done… anything with… anyone,” he mutters, cheeks heating up again as his eyes flicker around. “But I do wish to make you feel nice. Tell me how to make you feel nice. Please?”

“Ah… are you sure?” I ask, tugging his arms off of me. “We’re both drunk. This isn’t how you want to lose your virginity,” I continue to ramble, walking away from the man kneeling on my floor.

“No, please. Pretty please?” The man begs, crawling across the floor after me. “You’ve made me feel good all night. Let me make you feel nice,” he begs, wrapping his arms around my hips again and burying his head into my stomach. “Please?”

I let out a sigh, toying with his hair again as he nuzzles my stomach. “Alright, sunshine. Let’s go into the bedroom though, okay?”

The Sand Shinobi lights up at my agreement, his hands sliding up, picking me off my feet as he stands up again. He’s a bit wobbly as he adjusts to his drunken balance and my added weight. He’s still a bit unbalanced as he tries the doors, opening the spare room packed full of storage before he opens the door to my room. “You’re really pretty,” he tells me again, settling me on the bed.

I lock my legs around his waist, keeping him stuck on top of me. “You’re really hot,” I echo, shoving my hands into his hair as I tug his face down.

I crash my lips against his, rubbing myself on his growing bulge. “Oh my… you’re… we’re…” the redhead mutters into my mouth, his hands crawling up and down my sides. I let out a giggle, using my hold on his hair to shift his head to the side. “You, you, you… you’re…” The words stumble out of him as I brush my lips across his neck, softly sucking on his skin every couple of kisses.

“Do you want me to stop?” I mumble, working a hand out of his hair to toy with the hem of his shirt.

“No! Please, no. Please keep going,” he gushes out, hands clinging to my hips, pressing me down against him as he takes over our humping. “I want… I want to make you feel good. Tell me… tell me how to make you feel good.”

“Slow down a bit, sunshine,” I hum, tugging his shirt up. My eyes flicker a bit, rolling over the outline of his stomach muscles. “Take your shirt off for me, okay?”

The man moves quickly, sliding his shirt off and tossing it to the ground before settling back in his spot. “Now what do I do?” He asks opal-eyes stuck on me as he waits for his directions.

“Keep moving your hips,” I order, the man going straight to rubbing against me again. I let out steady breaths, trying to keep my mind straight to work our way through this. “That’s it, you’re being such a good boy,” I mumble, tugging my shirt off too.

“I’m… I’m what?” He asks, soft eyes blinking like crazy as his pace picks up. His eyes flicker between my face and my chest, mouth almost watering as he looks at my boobs.

“You’re being a good boy,” I repeat, gripping his hair to tug his face toward my chest. “Keep being a good boy. Kiss and suck on my chest as you hump me, okay?”

“Yes… yes, ma’am,” he whispers, lips brushing against my chest, occasionally testing different ways of sucking on my skin. “It’s… there’s marks,” he whines, nose nuzzling me before he litters my boobs in more kisses. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave marks.”

“I like marks,” I coo, raking my fingers through his hair. “You can leave as many marks as you wish.”

“I… I want… take it off,” the Shinobi husks out, a hand sliding under the wire of my bra. “Please take it off. Pretty please? I want… I want to suck on… please?”

A smile slides onto my lips from the sound of the redhead’s desperation. I give into his wants, sliding my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. An audible whimper spills from the hardass shinobi when my boobs tumble out, his eyes blown out and entangled in my chest. His eyes flicker up to mine, his question stuck on his lips. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

With the permission voiced, his head dips down, his tongue sliding out to cup my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. My hand searches for his, gripping it and tugging it up to my free boob. “Fuck, sunshine,” I whimper, working my hips against his as he toys with my chest.

“Hey,” I hiss after a couple of minutes, tugging his mouth off of me.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry,” he rambles, his desperation soaking out from his eyes, quickly coating his face.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” I soothe, gently pushing his head down my body. “You just sucked a little too long, it’s no biggie.”

More sorrys tumble out of him as he kisses down my stomach, both hands on my chest now, squeezing my boobs as his mouth coats my torso. “I… what do…?” A whine falls from him, his inexperience getting to him.

“Sunshine, please calm down. You’re working yourself up. I’ll walk you through it,” I tell him, my fingers sliding under my waistband to tug my pants off. The ginger’s fingers wrap around the band too, quickly tugging my pants down my legs.

Once he’s back between my legs, my hands fall on his hair, slowly shifting his head down. “Can… I want… please?”

“Do whatever you want, sunshine,” I coo, twirling his hair around my fingertips. He jumps right in, coating my thighs in kisses and soft suckles as his hands grip my legs. His fingers dig into my flesh, sifting my legs open and closed around his head.

“I…” he mutters, tapping his nose against my underwear. “I want…”

“What do you want, sunshine?” I ask, toying with him as I grind myself against him. “Use your words like a good boy.”

“I want to go down on you. I want to taste you. I want you to feel good. Please? Mommy please?” I snap his head away from me, the bedroom name ringing in my head. “I’m sorry,” he races out, his opal eyes shiny and wide as he looks at me. “I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s… fine. It just called me off guard is all,” I mumble, shifting his head back into please. I let out a few deep breaths before letting my hands go gentle in his hair again. “You still want to make Mommy feel good?”

“Yes,” he races out, littering kisses across my panties. “Please?”

“Ya… ya, make… make me feel good, baby.”

Another whimper falls from the man between my legs, his lip hungrily kissing my thighs as he tugs my underwear off. “What do I do?” He asks, eyes scanning my exposition before jumping to my face. “I just… lick at you, right?”

“Kind of, ya. You can move your tongue in and out of me too, or if you can find my clit you can suck and lick at that.”

“And your clit does what?” He asks, bending back down to bury his head in my pussy before his tongue starts sliding between my folds.

“My clit is a bundle of nerves that make me feel really good - and that’s it,” I moan out the second half, clinging to the roots of his hair. “Right… right there, baby.”

The Shinobi’s eyes jump up, locking in my face as his tongue swirls around my clit, running over it again and again. After a couple of licks, he changes direction, sucking on the bundle as his eyes scan my face. “Fucking… lord, baby,” I moan out, my back arching as my climax crawls forward. “Don’t, don’t, don’t change anything, you hear me? Keep doing that?” I order, my breath picking up as the edge moves closer.

He does as told, continuing to suck and swirl his tongue around in the way I’m enjoying. “Fuck. God damn it. Baby,” I whine, shoving his head further into me as the band in my stomach snaps.

Once I settle down from my high, the shinobi pops up from between my legs, eyes sparkling, and face covered in my mess. “Did I do good? I did good, right? Mommy, right?”

“Right,” I mumble, trying to steady my breathing. “Come here,” I call, leading him up my body. “You did so good. You’re such a good boy,” I coo, littering his face in kisses. A smile small crosses his face, eyes soft but still intense as he looks at me. What a weird little sandman.

“What do I do now?” He asks, head decking down to cover my chest in kisses. “Can I do it again, Mommy? Can I go down on you again? Please? Mommy please?”

“Not right now, sunshine. I want you to fuck me, okay?”

“Really?” He asks, his breath airy as he asks the question. “Can I? Can I really?”

“Ya. Let me grab a condom first,” I answer, leaning over to snap open my side table drawer. I dig around the drawer, searching for a rubber. “Um… do you have a condom?” I ask, shifting around the drawer some more.

“No, do you not have one?”

I let out a sigh, snapping the drawer closed. “No, I don’t, I’m sorry. Maybe if you’re in the village tomorrow - ”

“No,” he whines, burying his head in my chest, nuzzling my boobs as he whimpers. “I have to leave tomorrow. Please? It’ll be fine, right? One time won’t do anything.”

“You do know that sex leads to - ”

“I know how kids are made. Come on! Please? Pretty please?”

“Alright, okay. Just… don’t finish in me,” I give in, hands dropping down to work him out of his pants. My cheeks heat up as my fingers slide over his length, the soft virgin boy being bigger than I thought he would be. “Lord,” I mutter, working his pants the rest of the way down. Well, he definitely is a natural ginger.

“What? What’s wrong?” The Shinobi starts to panic, his eyes jumping around my body. “What did I do?”

“Hey, calm down. You work yourself up too much. You’re just… bigger than I thought you were going to be,” I mumble, settling my hands on his waist to shift him around.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, the opal of his eyes pooling into my view. The shinobi stumbles a bit, finding his balance above me. His hands settle on the sides of my head, nose pressed against mine as he looks down at me.

“No,” I breathe out, slowly using my hold on him to push his penis into me. “It’s… it’s a good thing, baby. A really good thing.” His chest pumps as he slides into me, his eyes fluttering as he looks down at me. “Okay, okay, um… do you think that you can move yourself in and out?” He nods his head quickly, mouth hung open as he sucks in oxygen. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Mommy. Yes, I can. I can… I can move myself,” he mutters, his hips moving back and forth, tugging his dick in and out of me. “Mommy,” he whines, head barring into my neck.

“Sunshine, move a little faster,” I ask, my nails digging into his waist. “Please, baby.”

“Yes, ya, whatever you want,” he races out, his pace picking up. I’m shifted up the bed because of his thrusts, the tip of his dick bullying its way into me. My nails race across his sides, tearing into his skin as I’m forced up the bed, the promise of scratch marks left behind. “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy,” he whines, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Hey,” I call out, digging my nails into him harder. “You should probably…” a moan cuts off my next order, fingers digging deep enough that I can feel his blood trickling onto my fingertips.

“Damn it,” he whines, burying himself into me, his movements stalling as his hands jump down to cling to my sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry,” the redhead whines, head dipped onto my shoulder as he bottoms out in me. “I’m really sorry,” he whines again, the warmth of his cum filling me up.

                   ————————————

     My heart pounds as I push open the door to the convenience store. It's been a month... or two since I've had my period. I'm sure it's nothing, that the stress of life is just getting to me... but you can never be too sure.

     The sound of my blood rushing rings in my ears as I stroll around the store, eyes flickering around for the aisle I need. It doesn't take long for me to find the family planning aisle, only increasing my heartbeat.

     I feel like I'm going to throw up as I settle in front of the wall of pregnancy tests, quickly scanning over the pink boxes. I grab the cheapest one, figuring it’ll work just as well as the rest.

The sound of the test moving as I walk only makes my nausea worse. I’m sure I’m not pregnant, I’m sure it’s just stress. The test will come out negative. It’s just me crossing all my Ts and dotting all my Is.

“Hello! Did you find everything alright?” The cashier asks, an empty smile on her face.

“Ya, I did,” I mutter, placing the box on the counter.

The cashier’s eyes flicker between the box and me for a second before she scans it. “Would you like a bag?” She asks already placing it into one of the propped-up paper bags. “Your total is twenty-three hundred yen.”

I place the money on the counter, snatching the bag and the recite from the lady before turning on my heels. Panic and blood rush through me as I head toward the store bathroom. It’s going to be negative, this is just a precaution.

The lights of the bathroom are so bright that it almost blinds me, only adding to my stress. It’s just to check, it’s not going to be positive, it’s just to cross it off the possibility list.

I repeat the empty promises to myself as I take the test. My anxiety claws at my chest more and more as I wait for the test to process. How could I be so stupid? How could I let a one-night stand not use a condom? I always make them use one and then a hot sand shinobi shows up and all of a sudden my senses go out the window? What the hell? I can’t be a single mom. I can’t do this alone. But it’s fine because I’m not pregnant.

I shake the stick for a second, slowly opening my eyes to look down at it. “Well, shit.”

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[lichanicksstuff]

I just thought it would be hilarious if comic! Sandman characters would exist in the world where the show also exist. Imagine Hob inviting Dream for a movie marathon.

(There will be some comic spoilers, you've been warned).

In this universe, Dream met Neil Gaiman and inspired him to create a series like this, so nobody will ever know the truth about the Endless. It's pretty clever even for a Matthew's idea.

The thing is: Dream (Daniel; treat him like a second incarnation. Like with the Doctor, since Daniel has all of Dream's memories, powers, etc. But he is softer than Morpheus. It's simmilar to Doctor's incarnations - same person, a bit different personality) did not expect was his human friend to ask him to watch 6th episode together because it's an episode with both of them! Hob knows about the idea of "the sandman", since Dream visits him in his dreams once in a few months. When they first met in person it was very hard for Hob to explain to his girlfriend how his friend who was dead is now alive and well. That's how Daniel became a lost twin brother of "that friend" who Hob somehow knows because yes it makes perfect sense, and no, Hob isn't making this up (his girlfriend does NOT believe him, but she goes with it. She even gave Daniel a cup of tea, made in a kettle. Hob is so sensitive about it as a British guy). But today, his beautiful girlfriend was out with her friends so they could watch without her asking why is the character named just like him.

"It will be fun!" Hob said, sitting down on his couch and handing Dream over some popcorn. Dream knows, more or less, what he should be expecting because it was him who gave the ideas and was present (in the minds of the writers) during production. In the end, Dream agreed and they both started watching.

Hob was very suprised when he saw the actor who plays Morpheus. In some ways he does look very simmilar to the original incarnation but there's something more... human, about him. (Well, maybe because he's a human.) Dream's real face has some weird glow to it that makes him very memorable when he wants to be remembered but also easy to forget if he doesn't. And also his eyes are not normal. Two deep lakes reflecting a night sky. No pupils. Charming but also horrifying, if you ask Hob. Privately. In a dark room. When he's so wasted he would be dead if he could die.

But when he saw the guy who is him on the screen, he gasped.

"He's not ginger!" He yelled and Dream almost choked on his wine, "I'm telling you, mate, they have something to gingers in hollywood. Every bloody character who has red hair somewhere, doesn't have them in the show."

"Hob, you're a person, not a character." Dream corrected him like his friend wasn't just starting a monologue on the topic of red-haired people in movies and TV shows.

"He is pretty good-looking, though," Hob admitted after a longer minute of talking.

"Certainly looks better than you," Dream said and drunk his wine. Hob laughed and this ended the conversation for a moment.

They had been watching for like ten minutes, commenting the clothing, suited to a particular time when suddnely, at the 1789 scene Hob asked:

"Why are they eye-fucking each other the whole time?"

Dream looked at him with a sign of pure disbelief in his non-pupil eyes. Hob just shrugged asking a very impolite "what?" Which Dream decided to ignore.

But then at the 1889 scene, a situation that Hob still remembers and how scared he was he will be mortal from now on, Hob started yelling at the screen:

"Come on Hobbie, get your man!"

"Hob, this is supposed to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry I got invested." he said fussily.

In the end, Hob was very happy with the results of this episode, even if it wasn't really accurate. Dream, on the other hand, drank much more wine than he was planning to.

(And Matthew was laughing in crow the whole time.)

[little-emerald-snake]

Free use - Leander Prewett X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

Warnings: free use woman, alcohol use, multiple random sexual partners in one night, public sex, protected p-in-v, voyeurism, exhibitionism, au

1.8k words

Leander anxiously pulled at the sleeves of his shirt. His best friend Garreth had dressed him up in a button down with the sleeves rolled above his elbows and added a sweater vest over the top with some black slacks.

He did admit that he looked good but the anxiety still flared to life in his chest as they stepped over the threshold of the doorway into the living room. Bodies pressed together and the smell of alcohol infiltrated his nose, thumping music that vibrated in his chest.

He wasn’t one for parties but Garreth had insisted he start coming out to parties with him. He needed to ‘loosen up’ and ‘live a little’. He didn’t exactly know what this meant since all Garreth did was go to these parties and hang out with the same people he always did, letting the alcohol flow and dancing with his friends.

Leander rarely drank and didn’t dance and usually had little to no friends at these parties beside Garreth. So what was the point?

They’d been there ten minutes, Garreth already having left him to ‘get drinks and be right back’ but Leander spotted the curly red hair bobbing on the dance floor. Leander secured himself a red solo cup that smelled of fruity juices and vodka, sipping it liberally.

He slid his way through the crowd to a smaller room less packed with people. He wasn’t fully aware of everyone in the room when he plopped into an open armchair off to the side. He sipped from his cup and allowed his eyes to sweep over the room and take in if maybe this was his crowd. The friends brought by their more party inclined friends and just wanted somewhere to hide till it was time to leave.

Leander’s somewhat judgmental perusal swept across the room, stopping on a couch across the room where a girl his age in a black crop top and green skirt bounced in some guy's lap. He blinked in confusion. It was clear what they were doing but the other people in the room either acted as if this was normal or casually sat watching from their own spots.

Leander’s eyes flicked back over to her, taking in her curves that the man she rode held on to. From what he could tell from where he sat she was doing incredible at pleasing him.

Leander’s cheeks flushed as arousal crept up inside of him, moving blood south and causing his heart rate to spike. He let his eyes linger on the details, noticing the words ‘free use’ written on her lower back and possibly her stomach where the top didn't cover.

He’d seen the term in porn before but didn’t exactly know what he meant. Pulling out his phone and glancing around to make sure nobody was watching him he googled the term. What mostly came up was a relationship dynamic where one or both partners are allowed to engage in sex with each other whenever their partner desires.

His eyes widened but he read another article on free use women. Alternatively a free use woman was someone usually in a public setting who was available for any person to engage sexually no matter what they were doing.

He swallowed nervously, tucking his phone away and letting his eyes drift to her again. She was now sliding off of the one man and bending over the couch just as another man came up behind her. Both men were wearing protection which made his logical brain relax a bit. He was still a bit surprised to see how everyone was so casual around this.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and he startled, looking back to his ginger friend. Leander blushed, having been caught in the worst possible situation to this date. “Hey Lee, didn’t think this was you’re scene but I’m glad to see you found something you’re into.”

Leander’s eyes shot open and he frantically began stuttering and waving his hands. “W-well…n-no I…it’s not like that! I just came in here to sit and I…I didn’t know…”

Garreth shrugged, not seeming to care much about his friend's choices. “No judgment here man. She’s been at parties before and she’s a total smoke show. Apparently she’s got a crazy good pussy too. Tap it if you have a chance.”

Leander was shocked. Garreth had never been a prude but this was a new level of comfort he’d never seen from his friend before. “Y-you’ve seen her before at these parties?”

Garreth nodded. “Oh yea. She comes all the time. She’s a self proclaimed nympho maniac. She’ll let just about everyone fuck her as long as they wear a condom. She’s a cool girl too. I’ve talked to her before and she’s got a killer personality.”

Leander nodded, biting into his bottom lip and watching her again. She looked lost in pleasure as the current guy drilled into her from behind. It made Leander’s cock twitch in excitement and he debated that maybe, just maybe he would try to hook up or talk to her. It was just the fact that they were in public that would cause him anxiety.

Garreth pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and sliding it into Leander’s hand. “Looks like they are about done mate, come on. Its first come first serve, go over there and wrap up. I’m sure she’ll be plenty eager to slide on.”

Leander looked flabbergasted (been waiting to use this in a fic for so long). “S-she’s already taken two cocks Gaz. You think she could really take another back to back like that?”

Garreth laughed a bit too loudly for his liking. “Mate she takes more than that at every party. She’s probably been here since it started. She’s a machine in the sheets. I’m telling you. Go get some. I’m gonna go back to dancing. Have fun.”

Leander watched his friend leave, anxiety spiking up again. He thought about Garreth’s words. What if he did just walk over there like his friend had said and take what he wanted.

He shook his head and the twitch in his trousers had him standing up and crossing the room before he could overthink it further. Cup in one hand and condom in the other, he sat on the couch and made eye contact with her. She smiled and sauntered over, licking her lips mischievously.

He set his cup aside and held up the condom. She nodded, taking it from him and proceeding to go for his trousers. He swallowed nervously, watching her delicate fingers pull his cock free before opening the condom and pinching the tip closed, rolling it down his length.

He couldn’t believe how incredibly hard he was even as people watched her climb into his lap and slide down his length. He sighed in satisfaction, feeling how tight she was. He couldn’t believe she was this tight after having taken two cocks right in front of him. Her pussy spasmed around him and his head tipped back.

She didn’t even know his name and she was bouncing in his lap as if it was her job to get him off. She leaned in close to his ear, taking both his hands and putting them on her thighs. “You can touch me, you know. I like it.”

She sounded so sweet and breathy it had him twitching. He reached around under her skirt and held her round ass in his hands, getting lost in the feeling and helping her bounce.

Her appreciative moans got louder and it seemed she was getting lost in the feeling too. He chanced a glance over their shoulder where her silky hair hung. Most eyes were on them now and his cock twitched again. He couldn’t believe he was getting off on being watched fucking this girl.

She moaned louder now, louder than he’d heard her with the other guys as he helped her move higher till just his tip was inside before letting her slam down on him. Her pussy quivered and he groaned against her neck, burying his face there in an attempt to ground himself.

She felt so good, smelled so good and she felt so tight and wet even with a condom on. This was by far the best pussy he’d ever fucked. He was just starting to get lost in it when her hips stuttered and she cried out, tightening around his cock.

He stopped, thinking maybe it was over but she regained her breath and kept sliding her body on his. “I-I haven’t seen you at these parties before have I. I-ah! Is it your first time?”

He could feel the pleasure and heat pooling at the base of his spine and he fought the urge to bury himself inside of her and blow. The fact that she wanted to keep going was driving him wild. He tried to focus on her words. “Y-yes. I’ve never…never done anything like this.”

She moaned softly, causing his hips to stutter. He was so close, fighting off the impending orgasm because she felt absolutely incredible. A pang of jealousy rang through him when another guy was getting ready behind her. He wanted her all to himself and mentally cursed for getting so attatched in only a matter of minutes together. “Y-you feel so good. P-promise to come see me again? Please.”

He drove himself up into her, moaning as he emptied himself into the condom. He was vaguely aware of her tightening around him and crying out her second release with him. This girl had really just asked him to come to another party to fuck her again and then proceeded to cum on his cock. He was smitten and that meant trouble. But he nodded anyway and helped to steady her as she got up off his lap, taking a few gulps of his drink before handing it back to Leander and allowing the next guy to lay her down and take his turn.

Leander looked away, peeling the condom off and tossing it before tucking himself away and booking it back out to the dance floor to find Garreth. His heart pounded in his chest like the music that blared through the stereos. He finally found his friend and pulled him from a mass of bodies.

Garreth was about to go off on him before chuckling and reaching up to fluff a hand through Leander’s messy hair. “Damn mate. Railed so good she even mussed up your hair. Must have impressed her.”

Leander vaguely recalled her fingers sliding into his neat hair and holding onto him that way. He shook the thought away and glared at Garreth. “We need to go. Now.”

Garreth looked a bit taken aback but nodded, turning to signal to his other friends that he was leaving. The whole walk home Garreth tried pestering Leander for what happened to upset him so badly but Leander remained tight lipped. Mulling over his new infatuation with the self proclaimed nympho maniac who seemed to be quite popular as a free use woman at these parties.

[bunneclair]

A tiny page of redesign doodles, I recently watched Hazbin Hotel and while I agree with a lot of the criticisms people have of it but I generally enjoyed a good amount of it! I already liked Helluva Boss.

Explanations below:

Alastor: gave this guy a normal skin-tone (not grey), curly hair, a and focused heavier on his deer features! I think he deserves those little freckles that deer have, as well as a deer nose :) I also focused more on neutrals and greys — he felt too red to me haha

Adam: gave this man some MELANIN. That’s basically it. Boy was that a white man jumpscare of the century

Niffty: pastelized/changed her little dress!! Iirc she is supposed to be from the 50s? She felt a little too modern for me. Although of course characters develop as the times do, I like the idea of her keeping a fairly innocent and unassuming appearance, and the red and black doesn’t suit her in my personal opinion (although it’s very cute!). I altered her hair as well from red and yellow to ginger and brown :) + gave her some generic 50s era makeup lol

Charlie: focused more on that goat thing she’s got going on!!! I also made her a redhead because I feel like we were done a little dirty with her and Lucifer being blonde. Gave her a typical/traditional hotel work outfit and bubble braids!

Husk: he’s just fat now (he should have been) and I accidentally stole his top hat. I’m not giving it back

[goldenchocobo]

Kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I wanted to solidify my eye-colour head-cannons for the Trios (plus Isa, Namine and Vanitas). Plus, I really do like drawing eyes. More words past the Keep reading;

This was mostly inspired my dog, Loki. Normally, he has really kind-of dull brown eyes, but when he’s in the light, they really shine a lovely ochre. 

And I had a neat lil’ thought: “What if Terra’s eyes were like that?” where, they’re kind of a deep earthy-brown, but when the light shines on them, they reveal a yellow colour, to remind himself (and others) that he was tied to the darkness for so long. I did this with every character who has ties to the darkness; Sora, Vanitas, riku, Aqua, Siax, Axel and Xion. all but Vanitas aren’t as extreme as Terra’s, though- just very subtle hints.

Everyone’s eyes- apart from Vanitas, Roxas, Terra and Isa’s have kept mostly to the same colour, although have different kinds of shades to them. Sora’s eyes are mostly the same, although I tried to make them more of a sky blue. Riku has a mixture of his post KH3 and Pre KH3 look, with the duller green being mostly in the shade and the bluer colour being highlighted in the light. Kairi’s got her original kind-of-purple going on, although I kept them more in the blue spectrum. Aqua’s are more purple-y than Kairi, because she looks really nice with them, as well as the shared purple-ness alluding to their master-and-apprentice connection. Isa’s eyes are a little different from OG material- they’re originally a similar shade of blue/green to Lea’s; so I made the difference more extreme, and made Isa’s ice blue, and Lea’s more green-hued. I also gave Isa eye-shine, because he looks neat with it. I’ve always imagined Xion having really deep blue eyes; like, if there’s no light on them, they’d just be black voids. With Namine, I just made her eyes super-blue; like incredibly sapphire blue. Ven and Terra’s new eye colours are fan-interpretations (and ones that I stand by). Vanitas’ is red from the novelisation (again, a colour that I stand by); and Roxas’ is my own personal headcannon- he’s got a teal-blue eyes, because he’s a mix of Ventus and Sora. Ven and Roxas’ hair is also my interpretation; Ven is blond and Roxas is strawberry-blond/ginger.

[gattnk]

Rector Cassidy and Rector Kubral will do what they must. They'll soldier on to the end.

I'm currently working on the redesigns for the Golden School staff; normally I would've started with Arkan and Temptel, but believe it or not Cassidy and Kubral were my first redesigns for this project! Yes, they precede even Raf and Sulfus in my sketchbook. I like to start with villains first when designing casts, since they tend to give me more wiggle room to be creative: this way I get to set the bar for the rest of the project, and I can make my heroes just as visually interesting. Here's my usual notes on the process:

The first step was understanding the characters and their motivations. Once I had their personalities and roles established, I could work on their appearance. I decided Kubral would embody brutality, and Cassidy, fear.

The themes stem from their origins: war is forever linked to brutality and fear as both causes and effects, so it makes sense that two generals personify them, since they too are both products and promulgators of war.

Kubral was easy enough to figure out. Heavy-looking square shapes, towering height accentuated by even taller horns, meaty claws that could snap you like a twig... As a whole, Kubral was based on gothic grotesques. I was also particularly inspired by Goliath from Disney's Gargoyles (his wings folding behind him like a cape is peak character design I tell you). All in all I simplified his original design to his most iconic features, with the addition of a forked beard as a symbol of power and authority.

Cassidy's design had to be much more subtle: fear is a thing that creeps on you, it catches you off-guard and overpowers you. My use of lean curves with sudden sharp angles is meant to represent just that. I included an eye motif to evoke an ever-present state of vigilance and paranoia; the eyes are also a callback to prophetic descriptions of angels, since I was very inspired by medieval stained glass at the time. This is the closest thing to a religious reference you'll get from me here!

I established early on in my creative process that, as angels and devils age, they gain new physical traits. Cassidy's carved halo and double pair of wings are a sign of her age and power. In Kubral's case, there's his tail and enlarged horns, wings and claws.

Cassidy's colors are derived from Raf's: blue, gold and white, sans the touch of red. The only "red" in Cassidy's color scheme is her faded ginger hair (no matter how much time passes, the enemy is still in her head). Her gloves and dark blue shirt underneath her white jacket symbolize her veiled intentions, and her shoes, the same shade as her shirt, represent the dark path she threads.

Kubral's hues are all shades of red (except for his hair, same principle as Cassidy's). This includes his eyes; you could say he "sees red" all the time. He's a straightforward character, so he doesn't conceal his old medals, his general rank proudly displayed on his chest. Still, Kubral is not just brawns, his cruelty motivates his more scheming side. He keeps an ace on his sleeve, or more accurately, his pocket: the tip of his tail is always hidden on his right side, so he may strike his enemies on their left with it.

Phew! If you think I overthink my character designs sometimes, you should see my scene notes regarding architecture lol. Still, I'm proud of my process with these two! For now they've only briefly appeared in my rewrite fic, but they'll get their moment to shine soon enough. Their plans will be certainly different from Season 2, so there's that to look forward to!

I'll Fly With You (rewrite fic) Art masterpost

[kazumist]

EPISODE 25 ★ SCREW TALKING

FAKE IT TILL WE MAKE IT — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterpost / prev ep / next ep

nervous was clearly an understatement as to what you were feeling when you already saw kunikuzushi sitting on a bench inside the local park.

taking a deep breath, you walked over and sat at the spot next to him.

a tense silence followed soon, and neither of you could say anything (well, more like you since you were the one who asked to talk).

“sorry…” you slowly started. “there was nothing happening between me and albedo because all he asked for was help with asking kaeya out. i didn’t tell anyone since i didn’t want it to be spoiled for the both of them. it was stupid of me not to tell you, i know. i can’t really defend myself that much since i was in the wrong.”

kunikuzushi stayed silent as he listened. but god, he really does feel stupid. turns out kazuha was right, and that makes him feel like even more of an asshole with how things turned out.

then again, communication was never his forte.

“it’s fine. i shouldn’t have decided things on my own and i shouldn’t have assumed so easily either. it was stupid of me to not really.. talk things out properly or give you a chance to explain,” he says.

“was it true that you were jealous?”

wait, how did you know? but only a familiar looking ginger popped up in his mind when he thought about who could’ve spilled it. he mentally groans at the thought of childe telling you that yes, he was indeed jealous of albedo. 

in the quietest voice that you ever heard from him, he said yes. 

and that’s what all it took for you to let out a small laugh.

“what are you laughing about?” he asks.

“nothing, nothing. i just didn’t really take you as the jealous type.”

“hearing that i got jealous is making me feel worse, you know.”

“good.”

he rolls his eyes at your response, but a small smile tugs at his face. it’s crazy how things went back to normal immediately after communicating. maybe you two really should’ve just talked things out from the start.

neither of you said the word love—you didn’t have to. it was in your laughter and that sense of childlike wonder that you both found in each other. you know it, and he knows it as well; both of you knew that it was love.

after a short while of your usual banter with him, kunikuzushi speaks up again.

“i’m sorry again. i’m not really the best at talking, you know.” his eyes trailed down to the ground below you as he fiddles with his fingers.

“then screw talking,”

“what?” he asks, turning his head in your direction. and he swears that he felt a sense of deja vu from what he saw.

your hand gently inched closer to his face, brushing away the hair that’s sprawled all over his face before gently landing on his cheek.

“i think this is where you’re supposed to kiss me?” you tease him, but all he responded with was his ears turning red. 

“is it okay if i…?” 

a small nod was all kunikuzushi gave you before he felt your lips softly press against his. the feather-light touch on her lips made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

if someone had told kunikuzushi before that he would be kissing the one who he had considered his “rival” one day, he would’ve physically recoiled. but look at him now, eyes shut as he kisses you back.

screw talking, indeed.

extra notes.

kiss kiss fall in love

writing resolved miscommunication is so hard for me forgive me

synopsis.

what happens when scaramouche, your rival since the first year of highschool, had some annoying admirers on his back? easy—he (fake) dates you to shoo them off. nothing can possibly go wrong with faking a relationship with the guy you hate, right?

spoiler: apparently, a lot can go wrong.

taglist (open): @niiheng @yinyinggie @ilyuu @veekoko @motherscrustytoenailclippings @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @akairaindrops @kichiyoshi @lxkeeeee @user11918163805279 @sketcheeee @yukiipc @kyouzki @quokkatss @ynverse @yuyumaru @danhenglovebot @sheep-from-rad @gekkow @aeongiies @scararaw @beriiov @thenightsflower @simpforsubmissivemen @sakurapeach @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @naheana @supernova25 @mitsu-moshi @yelleloww @kiyomi-hoku @kazemiya @theblueblub @lazy-sanns @kazuuhhaaaa @sukunasrealgf @alatusorrow @ahnneyong @bubiblossom @d4y-dr3am3r @featuredtofu @dappledstars @surgeonsofazeroy @reinoodle @venusflwers @gracefulace200 @dearestranpo @ggymj @izukusshuu [1/2]

[commander-krios]

Better Judgment

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: f!Tav/Rolan Rating: Mature Summary: Lorroakan was dead.Now came the mortifying ordeal of thanking his savior. Again. Words: 4897 Additional Tags: Tiefling Tav, Tieflings, Named Tav, BG3 Spoilers, Minor Act 3 Spoilers, Bard Tav, Blood and Injury, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Banter, Intimacy

Read on AO3

Lorroakan was dead.

His body was still smoking from the fireball that had hit him directly in the chest, his fancy clothing singed in a circular pattern that left worse damage beneath. Damage he could smell even from where Rolan stood on the opposite side of the room. 

A wave of nausea rolled in his stomach and he bent over, breathing through his mouth to avoid inhaling the stench. Adrenaline still thrummed through his veins, his hands shaky and sweaty. He wiped them against his robes, trying to concentrate on both his jitters and his violently ill stomach, but only one thought hammered against his skull.

The bastard was dead.

With a sharp laugh, he glanced up, eyes focused on the body. Lorroakan’s ginger hair sprawled across the blooded ground, no life left behind in his abusive body. Rolan was free. His limbs ached, the bruises and cuts on his face pulling as he grinned, but none of the pain mattered anymore because he was safe.

A groan came from behind him and he turned in time to see Juniper collapse at the feet of her friends, blood dripping from her nose, her hands shaking as she attempted to wipe it away. Her lute sat in her lap, red smeared against it, and Rolan’s heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

“Shit.” He muttered when the white haired cleric knelt, healing magic already in her outstretched hand. 

Rolan was at their side in seconds, reaching out to unhook the instrument’s strap from Juniper’s shoulder, setting it on the ground where it would be safe. She glanced up, azure eyes blazing like a fire, a smile curling her lips as she watched him. Almost as if they shared an inside joke and he’d reminded her of it at that moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked, glancing her over for injuries. He wasn’t a healer but he knew the signs for some of the worst things magic could do. A magic missile could scorch the skin as well as a firebolt, but many times, the wounds were subtler, deeper.

Juniper gripped his arm, smiling toothily at him as blood dripped over her lips. “Is the room spinning or is that just me?”

The cleric, Shadowheart, shook her head, a sigh leaving her lips. “Where does it hurt, Juni?”

Seemed this was a common situation they found themselves in. Rolan didn’t know whether he should be concerned or not. 

Juniper pointed at her nose and he noticed it seemed more crooked than normal. A flare of rage burned in his chest and he wished to bring Lorroakan back from the dead, only to kill him again. Shadowheart directed a spell to repair the damage, Juniper’s skin glowing a pale blue before the magic faded. She wiggled her nose as if testing it out before a laugh escaped her.

“You need to stop making this a habit.” Rolan chided her softly, brushing some of her raven hair out of her eyes, taking care not to get in the way of the cleric’s healing. 

“I can’t help it, Rolan. You’re my favorite damsel in distress.” She teased, wincing when her ribs smarted painfully. Wrapping an arm around her middle, she grinned sheepishly. “Ow.”

As much as he hated seeing her in pain, Rolan couldn’t help himself. Sometimes, a lesson needed to be learned, though with how often Juniper got hurt as of late, he doubted this lesson would stick. “You deserved that.”

Juniper slipped her hand into his, but said nothing in response, closing her eyes while her friend worked. The touch of her warm skin against his, despite the blood that stained it, set his heart hammering in his chest. He squeezed her fingers gently, smiling when she did the same back. Lorroakan tried to take the most important things in his life: his family, his pride in himself, his body… and he tried to hurt Juniper. 

But he was dead and they weren’t. It seemed their luck hadn’t run out yet.

A few moments passed before Shadowheart sat back on her heels, looking nearly as exhausted as he felt. “I can do no more here and we’re low on healing potions. We need to return to the Elfsong. Can you walk?”

Juniper opened her eyes, laughter sparkling in depths of blue. Nothing seemed to ever weigh on her. Rolan envied that. “What if I want you to carry me?”

The cleric rolled her eyes before standing, glaring down at the bard with affectionate exasperation. “I don’t entirely find this funny, but if you insist.”

The tiefling- Karlach- appeared behind the elf, reaching down to handily lift Juniper in her enormous arms, tossing Juniper over her shoulder. “Let’s go, soldier.”

Juniper, barely able to breathe from the giggles that left her mouth, lifted her head on the way out of the tower, waving at him sweetly. It was strangely adorable. “I guess this is goodbye, Rolan!” Her eyes darted to where her lute still lay on the battlefield. “I’ll be back for that!”

Rolan covered his face, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she started to sing a jaunty tune that was out of place among the death and destruction of the tower. Shadowheart and the pale elf followed at a distance, heads bent close together in conversation. When they disappeared through the portal, he was left alone with nothing but silence and death.

His gaze landed on the lute, still sitting among the strewn books and blood. With a defeated sigh, he bent over to retrieve the instrument, wondering how the hell he was going to clean the mess before nightfall.

~~~~

His body ached and not in a fun way.

The fight against Lorroakan had left him sore, his body drained of so much magical and physical energy. All he wanted to do was collapse in his bed and sleep for the next day or two. The former archmage’s body had been cleared away hours ago, the blood stains and scorch marks disappeared with magic and a good scrub brush. Then there was the lute.

Juniper’s lute had been damaged in the fight, a few broken strings and a deep scratch that needed mending. Not to forget all of the blood that stained the pale wood. Once the evidence of the fight had been cleared and Tolna was updated on the situation, Rolan had set out to find someone who could fix it.

Now, Rolan’s eyelids drooped, his body sagging under the exhaustion that threatened to drop him where he stood. He might’ve been inclined to bathe before sleeping, but he worried that if he fell asleep in the tub, he’d just end up drowning himself instead.

The lute thumped against his back as he walked the darkening streets of the Gate, mind drifting to the events of his extremely long day. He wondered if Juniper was alright. Despite everything, he was worried about her, about what ill effects she might be suffering from the fight. .

Rolan’s subconscious made the decision before he noticed his feet had brought him to the entrance of the Elfsong Tavern. The familiar sound of Alfira’s singing carried into the street and he paused, heart hammering like a nervous bird in his chest. What was he doing here? He needed to prepare the staff for the change in Master, go through the Tower’s defenses and see if he could improve them, and attempt to organize some of Lorroakan’s library…

Pulling the lute from his back, he cradled the instrument in his hands. It was larger than he was expecting, especially with how tiny Juniper was. But that wasn’t what had attracted his attention when he picked it up off of the floor of Lorroakan’s study. 

No, it was the small round disk of metal stamped into the wood. The familiar branches of a juniper tree, the sapphires embedded within still as dazzling as the day Dammon had crafted it. The sight of the brooch, his gift to her, in such a place of importance had him questioning everything about her and how he felt.

For a moment, he wondered if she thought about him as often as he did her.

Glancing up at the sign dangling over the doorway, Rolan huffed a breath. At the very least, he could hand the lute off to one of Juniper’s friends, leaving before she even realized he’d been there. And he needed to find Lia and Cal. Let them know what happened… the short version at least. There would be time enough to discuss what was to come tomorrow.

The scent of fire smoke and sausage greeted him upon entering, an adoring crowd hovering near where Alfira the bard sat, strumming her lute and singing her newest ballad. His siblings sat at the bar with Lakrissa, drinking ale or wine or whatever swill they could afford, heads together so they could hear one another over the noise.

Rolan stepped up to them, eyes on the crowd in an attempt to spot Juniper’s companions. 

“You look like hell, Rolan.” His sister said without any preamble, drawing the attention of a few patrons at the bar. He slanted his eyes at them until they finally turned away, nursing their drinks and returning their gazes to Alfira. Once he was satisfied he could speak without getting stared at, he slid onto a stool between Lia and Cal, setting the lute on the counter.

“Delighted to see you two keeping yourselves busy.” He muttered, taking the cup from her hands and finishing the wine in it. It wasn’t terrible, burned a bit at the back of his throat, but it left a bitter aftertaste behind that was slightly unpleasant. 

Cal glanced down at the lute before his face softened. “Everything alright?”

Rolan sighed, burying his face in his hands and feeling the exhaustion finally catching up. “It’s been a long day and no doubt, it’ll be an even longer week.” Rubbing his eyes, he stared at the wood grain of the bar, seeing every stain and crack in the wood. “I’ll explain more later, but we’ve gotten a bit of luck and… well, Ramazith’s Tower is now mine. Ours.”

“What?!” 

The combined shout of their voices drew more eyes and Rolan hushed them. “Please, keep quiet. No one knows about what’s happened with Lorroakan. We need to prepare for when that happens.”

Lia and Cal nodded, wide eyed, at him. Then with as little subtlety as she was capable of, his sister waved towards the lute, a smile curling her lips. “Let me guess who helped you with that.”

“I bet there are other things she wouldn’t mind helping him with.” Cal added, unhelpfully.

Rolan glared, already tired of the conversation before it began. “Children. The both of you.”

Cal snorted, hiding his face in his ale.

“Why are you here talking to us anyway?” Lia asked, stealing her glass back only to frown when she realized it was empty. “And drinking all of the alcohol?”

“I-” Rolan paused, eyes on the pristine lute sitting in front of him. He should’ve stayed at the Tower. He should’ve waited until the morning to come in search of his siblings, of Juniper. What an idiot he was. 

“Come on, Rolan.” Cal nudged him with a shoulder, grinning at him. “You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You might want to tell your face that.” Lia stole Cal’s ale next, taking a huge sip of it before slamming the mug on the bartop. “Now, I want you to go find Juni’s friends and bring that lute to her. The girl has suffered enough.”

Rolan nearly made a cutting remark about their savior: of course, the self-sacrificing bard needed a reward for interfering in other people’s business, but he bit his tongue. Because in truth, if she hadn’t put her nose into everything: The Druid’s Grove, the rescue at Moonrise, Lorroakan… Rolan and his siblings wouldn’t even be alive to enjoy this night.

And wasn’t that why he was here? To see her? To thank her?

Lia bumped his shoulder with hers, nodding towards a table on the far side of the room. “Go. We’ll be alright.”

Rolan ran a hand down his face, knowing no matter what he did, his siblings would tease him about it relentlessly the next day. Sometimes they were a handful, actually- they were always a handful. But this time, he knew they meant well by it.

“Fine. If it will get you to leave me alone for more than a minute, I’ll check in on her.” Rolan pushed away from the bar, remembering to grab the lute, carefully slinging it over his shoulder. 

“Don’t forget to properly thank her, Rolan.” Lia said before laughing at the disgruntled look he threw her. “Oh come on! Can’t I have a little fun?”

With an undignified snort, he ignored the question and went in search of Juniper’s gaggle of cutthroats and murderers.

~~~~

Juniper’s friends were all too willing to offer him the key to their suite when he’d attempted to hand the lute over. With flaming cheeks, he took the tiny silver object and a few climbed steps later, found himself standing in front of a pair of elaborate doors. Deep down, he hoped the key wouldn’t work, that he would be left staring at unopenable doors, that he could trudge back down to the tavern and drown his nerves in wine.

The lock turned without any resistance, clicking as it unlocked.

The room was silent, a few candles the only light in the dim room. All the beds were unoccupied except for one. Juniper’s hair was the only thing he noticed, peeking out over the top of the blankets, cascading over her stark white pillow like a waterfall of raven and burgundy. He couldn’t even see the rest of her under the pile and for a moment, he paused in the doorway, watching for any movement, any sound of waking.

When there was only silence, Rolan stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click. His eyes took in the view: dark paneled walls, wardrobes that probably were larger than the places he used to stay in Elturel, the blankets and sheets finer than anything he’d ever touched before.

Somehow, he found it impossible to believe Juniper liked any of these fancy things. The lute had to be the most expensive thing she owned. In fact, she was always covered in blood or mud whenever he saw her. Or other things that he didn’t want to think about. There was no way that staying at the Elfsong was her idea.

He ignored the sleeping bard in favor of walking to the nearest desk. Setting the lute against the wall beside it, he was prepared to leave without even a single glance in her direction, without a word uttered in the quiet. But something on the desk caught his eye as he turned.

A pile of paper sheets were scattered against the wood, charcoal drawings on each one. At first, he caught glimpses of Juniper’s companions on the paper: the pale elf’s strong profile, the Githyanki and her fierce eyes, the wizard in the midst of casting a spell with practiced hands, the cleric bent over in prayer with white hair spilling over her shoulders. Shifting some of the sheets, he noticed there was one of the fiery tiefling and the horned human sitting beside each other, laughing with flushed cheeks and wine in their goblets. There were dozens of a white dog and an owlbear, some together and others apart. Even the druid Halsin was recreated upon parchment, reading from a book with a wrinkle in his brow. All were marvelous to gaze upon, little moments of time in Juniper’s travels. Moments that probably meant something to her.

These people who traveled at her side were her family, much like Cal and Lia were his. 

It was a commonality between them that he hadn’t foresaw. So much of their lives were different: from the circumstances of their births, to their childhood, to what they’d become. But she was still a woman who cared about the people around her.

A smile twitched at his mouth. Juniper, despite how she annoyed him during the majority of their interactions, put beautiful things into a world where beauty was sparse. She tried to help people, to find the good amongst the bad, and in hindsight, Rolan thought perhaps he should take a lesson from her and attempt the same. 

The next drawing made him pause in his perusal, eyes transfixed on what he was seeing. Himself, drawn in the same charcoal as the others, but it wasn’t a single page. There were many, all depicting him in different moments in time. Things he remembered, but didn’t think much on at the time.

Standing by the forge in the Grove, nose scrunched in frustration. Probably at something that Lia had said to him in passing.

Him casting a spell that he was positive was thunderwave. The fight against the goblins, perhaps?

The tiefling party, smiling around a sip of wine. 

His hands in the air, casting his light show, stars falling around him in soft arcs.

The joy on his face as he hugged Lia and Cal at Last Light, reunited and whole again.

A soft grin as he peered through the darkness, surrounded by torchlight.

Rolan swallowed with difficulty, his heart now pounding in his throat. That last one… it was the last time he’d seen Juniper at Last Light, before she left to fight Ketheric Thorm. During the very moment he’d given her the brooch with his warding spell. With a glance at the lute, he knew what he felt as he stared at the silver disk embedded within the only thing Juniper carried from her past life. 

Longing and a deep affection he was afraid to name.

“Rolan?”

He tensed at the sound of his name, dropping the parchment back to the desk, caught in the act of snooping. Taking a deep breath, Rolan faced the bed where a familiar pair of azure eyes blinked at him. Juniper tried to rub the sleep from them, yawning wide enough that he could see the points of her teeth, and he had to bite back a laugh at the sight.

That was until he noticed the thin linen shirt she wore, the neckline of which went nearly to the top of her freckled breasts. The sight of her tousled raven waves, the relaxed set of her shoulders, the very fact that she was grinning up at him in a lazy, self-satisfied smirk… nearly set him ablaze. How many times had he imagined this very moment in the dark of those lonely nights? How many times had he wished to wake up beside this woman, to see her sleepy smile, to know that he was the reason she was overwhelmingly happy?

“Like what you see, Master Rolan?” She teased with her usual charismatic lilt, eyes sparkling with humor, but there was something different in her delivery. Almost as if she was actually surprised to see him. To think he could manage such a feat was almost satisfying.

“I- What did you call me?”

Juniper reached up to brush hair out of her face, tucking it behind one pointed ear. It was difficult to see in the encroaching dark, especially from where he stood, but Rolan swore she blushed. “I assume you’ll be taking ownership of Ramazith’s Tower. Now that the former master met an untimely end.”

Rolan choked on a laugh, finding it difficult to believe she so easily found the light in such a dark time. “I guess you make a decent point.”

The sound reinvigorated her and she leaned back against the pillows, watching him with a devious mischief he was growing fond of. “How does it feel to be the most powerful man in Baldur’s Gate?”

“Aside from the very real Archduke?” He mused, enjoying the flair of her pupils as he stepped closer. She watched his every movement, attention focused solely on him and he felt more powerful under her gaze than he did as the Tower’s new master.

“Oh, let’s be honest, Rolan. At this rate, you might end up in his position before I’m finished with the Absolute.” She raised her fingers and wiggled them in a mockery of spellcasting. “You know, me and my good luck.”

“Your supposed ‘luck’ is atrocious. At least, when it comes to your own health.” He paused a step or two from her bedside, the worries that’d been weighing on him the majority of the day feeling lighter in her presence. “I should thank you. For your help. Again. Even though I never asked for it.”

Juniper forced her gaze away to look pointedly at the lute that still leaned against the wall. “The lute is enough of a thanks. It looks even better than it did before I got nabbed by the nautiloid.” When her gaze fell to her hands, and the blanket she twisted between them, Rolan was struck by how small she looked, sitting in a mountain of pillows she definitely did not need, eyes downcast like she was afraid.

It was unnatural.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay to help you with the… mess.” She muttered, worrying a hole in the fabric with her claws. “Or send someone to check on you. I… I should’ve-”

“You are aware that I’m perfectly capable of cleaning?” He said in exasperation, sitting down on the edge of the bed, raising his eyebrows when she glanced at him. “And that I’m an adult that doesn’t need a nanny?”

“Tell that to Lia.” Juniper laughed quietly, a genuine fondness for his sister obvious by her smile. “By the way she talks about you, you’d think you were nothing more than a child in need of some proper discipline.”

“Coming from Lia, who needs more discipline than anyone I know-” He paused, grin tugging his lips upwards. “Except for certain bards-” She let out another laugh. It was progress. “Her opinions on the nature of discipline are not wanted.”

His hand covered hers, stilling her fingers before she made more of a mess of the blanket. Juniper gazed at him with a mixture of curiosity and affection, expression softening more the longer she looked at him. It made him braver than he ever remembered being. 

“I regret that you got hurt trying to protect me. That was never my intention, no matter how much I enjoyed seeing you kick Lorroakan’s pompous ass.”

Juniper snorted, and yet, it was the sweetest sound to his ears. “I’d do it again if I could.”

“Please, the next time you decide to jump into heroics without thinking, at least make sure the warding spell is at full strength.” He let out a breath, the tightness in his chest easing at the warmth of her touch. Rolan didn’t want to think about what might have happened to her had his charm failed. He wanted to confess every single one of his fears in those first moments after the fight. The terror of seeing her with her own blood covering her. The guilt of how many times she’d protected him and his family. The horror at watching her throw herself into danger for what felt like the hundredth time. For him. 

Don’t ever scare me like that again, or, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you paled in comparison to everything she’d already risked. And he knew she would do it again before the war was over.

“Does that mean I can come by Sorcerous Sundries whenever I want?” That familiar glimmer of mischief was in her eyes again and he felt a swell of pride knowing he was the one to wrench it free from the darkness. Juniper was beautiful like this: messy hair, sparkling eyes, one corner of her mouth tilted in a smirk that only spelled trouble for him.

He apparently wanted her type of trouble in his life.

“As if anything would have stopped you before.” 

She shifted closer unexpectedly, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck, a lopsided grin on her face. “Now I have an excuse to see you as much as I want.”

The touch was so casually intimate that his brain nearly shut off at the sudden contact. There wasn’t a moment in his past when he could remember being as comfortable as he was with Juniper. It felt nice. It felt right.

Rolan’s hands slipped over her waist, pulling her even closer, lips brushing across her forehead, and for the first time that day, his body completely relaxed, his worries disappearing the instant he knew she was truly safe. “You don’t need an excuse to see me, Juniper.”

The look she gave him was the most serious one he’d ever seen on her. His stomach flipped nervously. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “Does that mean you like me?”

His fingers curled into her hair, the strands as soft as he remembered. Her breath caught at the tenderness of the touch and he leaned in, mouth hovering only inches from hers. Rolan wanted to kiss her again, but he hesitated. “Against my better judgment, I do.”

Tilting her head, Juniper’s eyes slanted slightly, studying him in the silence that followed. 

Too late, he realized that it sounded like an insult. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “How did you mean it then? Because it sounds like it almost pains you to admit you might enjoy my company.”

“No, that’s not- what I meant was- I just…” He trailed off as a smirk appeared, sharp points of her teeth exposed beneath her lips. “You’re teasing me.”

“You make it so easy.” Her claws brushed against his skin, nails stinging slightly as she trailed them up into his hair again. He shivered at the contact, biting off his sharp exhale.

Rolan glanced towards the desk where the drawings still lay, and he knew without a doubt that he did like her. More than he should, more than he’d ever liked anyone with the exception of his siblings. She’d burrowed beneath his skin, gotten into his veins, and burned in his blood. He wanted her more than was sensible.

Ignoring any lingering doubts, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers desperately, swallowing the moan that spilled from her mouth. He wanted everything she was willing to give, yet he knew it would never be enough. She shifted backwards until she laid on the mattress, his chest pressing against her in a way that had his mind spinning and his blood singing. Her breasts were soft where they brushed against him, and she gasped at the sudden touch, fingers tightening in his hair. 

Rolan knew his arousal was obvious through the robes he wore and he tried to move, to find a position that kept it hidden, but all it did was rub against her thigh more, making the problem worse.

Juniper broke the kiss suddenly, breathless laughs bubbling up from deep within her chest. Rolan moved away slightly, holding himself up with his arms, staring incredulously at her as if she’d grown two more heads.

“Now you’re laughing at me?” 

Juniper's laughter didn’t cease, but it also didn’t seem to be in malice. She was… happy. A sight that warmed him as much as it annoyed him since her teasing came at his expense.

“Do you have a hex? Has the tadpole finally eaten your brain?”

“I- I’m sorry! It’s just… you’re adorable when you’re flustered. You get this little scrunch in your nose-” She tapped his nose as if he didn’t know where it was. When he gave an exasperated sigh, she bit her lip to stop the giggles. “I think it’s cute.”

He flushed and the moment she noticed, a strangled noise left her throat. It sounded like a dying animal. Rolan collapsed on the bed next to her, trying to get hold of his erection as her laughter filled the room, a sound more musical than her singing voice. “Yes, let it out. I am nothing more than entertainment for you.”

Juniper turned onto her side, brushing a hand over his chest as she shimmied closer. His mouth went dry when she trailed her lips against his jaw, feather-like kisses that were softer than the wind. “You’re more than that, you stubborn bastard. I like you too.”

The air left his lungs in a rush, his head floating on clouds as she tucked her body against his, her head nestled in the crook of his arm. She laid there quietly, sprawling her hand flat against the place where his heart beat. She fit against him so perfectly, almost as if she was meant for him… or perhaps he was meant for her.

“Rolan?”

He blinked, exhaustion nearly pulling him under before he’d realized it. “Hm?”

“Will you stay?” She paused, burying her face against the warm fabric of his robes. Her voice was small, gravely, almost as if she was drifting back into sleep. “Here? With me?”

If his presence brought her even a modicum of peace in this hellish war they fought against the Absolute, then he would lay here forever. “As long as you need me.”