#hinder the mischief

[louventcavaliersx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

When the chaos erupted, Daemon did not let the opportunity slip from his grasp and abducted you, the daughter of the Sea Snake.

A/N: Thank you for 100 followers!

fanfiction | House of the Dragon

One may know the Rogue Prince to be a persistent man. He is a Targaryen Prince, a Dragon, what he desires will be his regardless of the cost. When he sought your hand, your father, Lord Corlys, opposed it and forbade him to wed you. The refusal left him embittered and wrathful, incensed by his audacity. Before his departure, he spoke one sentence that would unsettle Rhaenys and Corlys; a vow to seize you from their grasp should they prove unwilling. Your mother clutched you tighter, and your father silently dreaded the vow.

During the royal wedding of Laenor and Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Corlys remained vigilant throughout the entire ceremony, unable to shake off the sense of foreboding, especially when Daemon appeared at the ceremony uninvited, smiling proudly like a child. Your mother's grip on your hand tightened resolutely as she observed the prince smirking at her and her husband before taking his seat.

Corlys shifted in his seat as he leaned towards you, whispering firmly and sternly, "You must not engage with him even if he asks you to dance, do not accept anything from him. Maintain your distance." Your eyes met his, nodding in understanding. You had no desire to provoke your father or disappoint your mother, so you complied with their wishes.

Throughout the dinner, Daemon never ceased gazing at you. His eyes held mischief and potential peril. You swallowed nervously as you speared the meat on your plate. Your parents glanced at you cautiously, and you could even see Corlys glaring at the prince from a distance with admonishing eyes, yet the prince merely smiled and winked at you when you glanced at him.

Choosing to disregard his flirtatious advances, you turned towards Rhaenyra and your brother. They did not appear truly happy, more solemn, with silent discontent evident. The atmosphere was tense, lacking in joy.

As the dancing commenced, you remained seated. Then you turned to your father, "May I?" You inquired, and Corlys promptly responded, "You mustn't. The Prince is always waiting for you to slip up." Naturally, he was concerned; he could not bear to lose his daughter. It was Laena who interjected with a smile. "Father, do not worry, she will be with me. I will keep a watchful eye on her." Despite this reassurance, Corlys remained wary and reluctantly allowed you to go with your sister.

Descending the stairs and joining the others in the dance, they glided across the floor like graceful swans. You recognized a few of them: Harwin Strong, Jason Lannister, and a few others. It was then that you felt an arm encircle your waist, none other than Daemon Targaryen. You swallowed nervously.

He smirked at you. Despite having aged, he remained strikingly handsome, prompting both men and women to kneel before him. "You are as beautiful as ever," he complimented as he twirled you. A faint smile graced your lips, though your eyes revealed caution. "Thank you, Prince Daemon." The way his name rolled off your tongue made his smirk widen. You prayed for your parents to come and whisk you away.

However, Daemon had other intentions as his hand ventured lower. "Your parents are fools for denying us the chance to wed. I could adorn you in ways no lord ever could. I could indulge in you endlessly without boredom," he whispered seductively. His silver-tongue was renowned. You could sense your parents' watchful gaze.

"You are gracious, my prince. Unfortunately, I must return to my parents," you informed him, fabricating an excuse swiftly as you attempted to flee but were hindered by the chaos erupting around you. Screams pierced the air as panic ensued, and amidst the commotion, you heard bones shatter and recognized the cries of a familiar man, Ser Joffrey. Searching for your brother amidst the chaos, you heard his shouts and a loud crash. The cacophony of voices melded into one, and Daemon seized the opportunity by hoisting you over his shoulder and navigating through the tumultuous crowd.

Amidst the throng of people pushing and jostling in their attempt to flee the scene, it was challenging to spot you. Daemon capitalized on the confusion and departed from the Red Keep with you. Despite your struggles and resistance, he carried you atop his dragon. And on dragonback, he spirited you away to Essos swiftly when there were no witnesses.

While your parents scanned the crowd anxiously in search of you, Rhaenys fretted and feared that harm had befallen you. Corlys turned towards Viserys, his voice thunderous with anger. "My daughter—find my daughter!" he bellowed as Viserys finally grasped that his brother had likely abducted you amidst the chaos. The color drained from Corlys and Rhaenys's faces, consumed by dread.

[heartsteellerr]

How they react to being under the mistletoe with you

Content; Fluff Warnings; GN reader, reader being silly in (Kayn, Aphelios, and Yone parts), SLIGHTLY heated in Ezreal part if you squint Characters; All Heartsteel members

Ezreal

He's in a bit of a pickle... From being smug to flustered about being under one with you, rubbing his neck and looking around at anything but you, it's most likely you'll have to be the one to initiate the kiss. And when you do, he melts into it immediately ⎯ making it a not so simple kiss but a full on makeout session. Holding you so close you felt his body being pressed into yours. In the end when you both finally pulled away from each other, you could say this was indeed the best present you can get... But also for everyone else in the room, this was the worst part about the party yet.

Kayn

Totally didn't plan it. No seriously, he didn't plan it whatsoever ⎯ he was just going to get a drink when you pointed it out to him that he stops to look at it, and lo and behold, there it was dangling above of you both. At first he didn't really get the whole point of it, turning to you with a blank look, but before he could even let out an ounce of party pooper magic with his words he could see how you looked at him expectingly ⎯ without needing to say anything, he could tell you really wanted that kiss from him. Of course he'd be obligated to after seeing you like that, but would most definitely tease the living crap out of you afterwards.

Aphelios

Saw you standing there stupidly waiting for him. It was so obvious too with how you stared directly at him with a dumb grin on your face that he rolled his eyes and decided, for once, to play nice and go along with your dumb schemes. Pulling his mask down to place a simple peck on your lips, nothing special or extravagant ⎯ but you could see just from that 'simple gesture' he has a blush on his face that he tries to cover up by pulling his mask back up.

Sett

Didn't realise he's been standing under one this whole time, not understanding why his members weren't coming to talk to him, or why not just them, but everyone else was too. That is, until you came up and pointed it out to him ⎯ he didn't exactly know ... what a mistletoe was or the importance of it, but if it was just a kiss then whats the big idea? He'd lean down to a place a quick peck on the lips on your lips and call it a day, unable to tell just how from a simple gesture effected you so much as you covered your face with your hands.

K'Sante

Totally planned it and he makes it obvious too. Going over to you and asking for you to look up only for you to see the mistletoe right above you both ⎯ moreso you due to ... him holding it right above your head. From the shock and bewildered look on your face, it causes him to let out a loud BOOMING laugh, hindering the other guests around you both but did he seem to care? Not at all. Grabbing you by the hip with one hand, he pulls you into a passionate kiss. Soft and delicate, but of course had a devious sensation to it ⎯ you could practically feel him smiling when he felt you reciprocating back. Needless to say, this was the best gift he can ever get.

Yone

Sighs when he sees you bring the mistletoe over to him. Not being able to hold it over his head because of how tall he is, but bringing it to him? And showing him with a gleam of mischief in your eyes? You'll be the death of him and you know it. You're fairly lucky he can't say no to you, but also unlucky if you can't handle his loving gestures first. He'd kiss your forehead first, then your cheeks, then your nose, and finally your lips. Deep down he's a romantic and wants to convey his feelings as much as possible, but even without doing such extravagant gestures, you could tell how much he loves you by how he looks at you with so much love and tenderness.

[thesadadventurersgame]

The sad adventurers

Play as sadness incarnated, being revered as a deity and condemned to cry for the rest of eternity. Join an thrilling adventure with mortals you just met and, for the first time in your life, make real friends! (and try not to make them cry while they're around you and your contagious sadness). Will you help you new friends get what they want or will you get in their way?

The story will have two main points of view: Mc's and Antara Al-Amin's, other characters will also have their own POVs, but they will be shorter and won’t allow you to make choices.

(This is a wip that, unfortunately, will take time to be completed. English is not my first language and I do this just for fun, if you see any typo, please tell me!)

“In the beginning, there was only happiness. The first goddess was born from all the laughs in the world. A woman who shines every time someone laughs or smiles, never sad or angry. Love came soon after, from the desire to share this happiness, from the desire to care and be cared for. They loved and love everything they see. But, when mortal men were expelled from paradise, when they first began to feel pain and cried, from their tears emerged sadness. A deity who cried, cries and will cry forever and ever, cradling all the sadness in the world in their arms. They did not come alone though. Anger, their brother, came from the blood that men have shed and will be strengthened by it in the future. He can never be satisfied and will never be satiated, nothing makes him smile more than pure hatred. and, finally, came Fear. Born from the fear of feeling sadness, pain, fear of losing control of your own feelings, your own body, fear from being hurt and hurting. that’s where he came from.

But, before all of them, we, mortals, were born. The many fruits of the immense tree the love between life and death is. Unlike the Gods, we can feel all types of emotions proportionally and unproportionally. Only we can feel everything and feel nothing at the same time, Without us, the Gods would be nothing. But we are never satisfied, are we? we want everything until there is nothing left and will do everything, everything we can to have it. Everything to have at least one wish, any wish, fulfilled.

In ancient books it is said that if you can gather: hapinness tears, sadness laughter, the blood of love boiling with hate, a little ounce of love from hate and a demonstration of courage from fear, life itself will grant you one wish, ANY wish! That's why I brought you all together here. Together we can make history!” the man closes the book in front of him, smiling from ear to ear. “So? What do you guys say?”

𖦹 Customizable MC

ꕀ Name, personality, species, gender, sexuality, pronouns, appearence, level of naivety, hobbies, your control over your own powers and more

𖦹 Romance 1 (or more) of 6 romanceable love interests

𖦹 Choose between helping the adventurers achieve their goals or completely hindering them

𖦹 Define how you fell and interact with the other gods, as well with your own divinity

Ro’s:

Antara Al-Amin (27) | The leader | (he/him)

An adventurous and brave man. He was the one who brought your group together and is also, the leader. He makes you curious, no one has ever tried such a thing before, no one has ever been foolish enough, and yet there he is, sure that everything will work out.

Everything you do seems to mesmerize Antara, and he seems to do everything just to see your smile, failing miserably most of the times, but never giving up.

You do not know what his wish is going to be, but you know he won't give up on it, no matter what.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Antara is a slender but strong tall man, measuring approximately 1.80m. His umber skin is covered in scars from past adventures, which he brags about endlessly. His midnight black hair is styled in long dreadlocks and his amber eyes sparkle with a mischief that he doesn't care to hide. According to him, his stubble is his charm. He prefers masculine clothes, but likes to dress feminine in formal occasions. Antara has a flirtatious and outgoing personality, throwing himself into the arms of anyone willing to hold him for the night. it's clear to you that he cares about everyone in the group, including you, which is silly, but you don’t dislike it.

Rajinder Khan (28) | A good friend | (He/Him or She/Her)

Rajinder at first only joined the group because of Antara, their childhood friend, as they thought that Antara was going completly insane, fearing for his friends life. However, the promise that their greatest wish could be granted was also a factor, who would deny such oportunity after all?

Rajinder was the first to protest when Antara allowed you to join the group. They seem to have a great aversion to showing emotions, especially sadness, maybe that’s why they ignores you everytime they can.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Rajinder is a tall (2.00,m 1.98,f) heavy built person. Their golden skin is covered in freckles from head to toe. Male Rajinder keeps his hair in a military cut, female Rajinder wears short braids, both have black hair and almond eyes. They prefer more gender neutral clothing. Rajinder has a distant and cold personality, speaking only when needed.

Yueling Bai (25) | The liar | (She/Her, They/Them or He/Him)

The first thing you learned when joining the group was that you cannot trust a single word that comes out of Yueling’s mouth, for every ten words they say, nine are lies. The only thing they don’t seem to lie about is about how they feel about you and the others.

Yueling is a notorious liar and a extremely famous mercenary, that’s why Antara invited them in the first place, They have many skills that can be extremely useful. Every time the groups wishes are mentioned, Yueling is the first to try to change the subject, or they come up with a new wish. You are not going to lie, this worrys you, but there’s nothing you can do, for all you know, they can't even have a wish yet. They're neutral towards you joining in the group, and find the way you affect their emotions annoying, but despite that, they still treat you with polite deference (sometimes)

Bonus: They grew up within one of the kingdoms in your territory, which is embarrassing since you don't remember most of them.

Species: Half-elf

Apparence and personality: Yueling has a lanky body and is avarage in height (1.64), with olive colored skin, covered in tattos. Their straight short hair flows freely below their jaw, a small red clip pinning their bangs to the top of their head. They wear scarlet-red paint around their eyes which perfectly harmonizes with their jet black iris. Female and male Yueling prefer clothes generally assigned to the gender they identify with, however non-binary Yueling will prefer more masculine clothes. Yueling is a born liar, their playful personality, for all you know, could be another one of their various lies, but you like it.

Felix/Felicia Bellerose (22) | The runaway princet | (He/Him or She/Her)

F comes from the second most powerful empire in the world, Tartarus, a troubled place led by a tyrannical and sadistic Queen, their mother, Hild Bellerose, more know as the “Red Queen”. F's dream has always been to free his empire from Hild’s clutches, but they never had the courage to do so, being raised to be complient and obedient, going against their mother was like a fever dream. Luckily, they know the right people. They joined the group with the help of their royal guard, who helped them escape from the palace during the night. They don't seem prepared to fight, at all, good thing they have their charisma.

They're easily impressed by you and your powerss, treating you with deference.

Species: Vampire

Bonus: Tartarus is one of the kingdoms under Gunnar's territory, you can choose how to feel about it.

Apparence and personality: F is an tall (1.85m 1.82f) skinny person, with pale ivory skin and red eyes. Their curly, sunset-blonde hair is tied in a low ponytail with a crimson red ribbon if male and falls on their shoulders freely if female. They use a big black umbrella during the day and round sunglasses, if female, F will prefer feminine clothes, but doesn’t have a preference if male. F is a shy, air-headed person and a huge people pleaser, but, when needed, they are extremely charismatic and flirtatious. They will do everything to please their companions. They have a really hard time making choices by themselves.

Aza Bonheur (24) | The (un)lucky one | (She/Her)

Aza is F's royal guard and their biggest co-conspirator against Hild, she’s the one who convinced the princet to join the group and is one, if not the only, of their closest friends. She can easily be considered one of the strongest person of the group and strangely, she doesn't seem to have a wish to make.

Aza has an supernatural level of luck (good and bad), which is defined by a magical coin that she carries with her everywhere. She also appears to be able to steal other people's good luck and can transfer good or bad luck to others. She never mentions how she gained these “powers”, avoiding the subject as much as she possible can.

She treats you with deference but has her suspicions about you.

Species: Human

Apparence and personality: Aza is a strong women of avarege height (1,72), with green eyes and rose beige skin, covered from head to toe in scars. Her almond-colored hair is short and gelled back, showing the scar that runs from one side of her face to the other. Aza has a tough but kind personality. She is a serious woman who doesn't fool around but has a passion for drinking games. She doesn't have a preference for clothes, when she is not wearing her armour, she likes to wear anything as long as it is practical.

Douglas, Fear itself | The one who vanished | (He/They)

Douglas is the only God to not have an counterpart. When you were younger, Douglas was a shy and fearful boy, always in the most darkest of the corners, watching everyone cautiously. Neither you nor the other gods remember a thing about Douglas, because, when you separated, all the memories you had of him disappeard...but they seem to be coming back.

You don't know how, but you will find him.

Species: Vampire

Apparence and personality: You remember Douglas as a tall and slim boy, his tanned skin was always sickly pale and he had huge, dark circles under his eyes. Deep crimson red eyes that were always wide open. His hair was dark and oily, going down his back. All you can remember is how he trembled looking at you and the others.

Non ro’s:

Gunnar, Hatred itself | your brother | (he/him)

Gunnar, your dearest brother and the most hot-headed person you've ever met. You are the only person and thing that makes him smile other than hatred and violence. You spent a good part of your life clinging to him. In times of war, where your sadness was so deep that you couldn't stop sobbing and screaming, even if his blood was so hot to the point of melting his skin, he never stopped taking care of you, staying by your side all the time.

You do know where he is.

Species: Demon

Appearance and personality: Gunnar is a very tall man (2.00) with muscular build, and appears to be approximately 30 years old. His white hair falls over his shoulders like waterfalls and his porcelain skin is often red and burnt because of his blood, which boils at the slightest provocation. He has red eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. He does not prefer a specific type of clothing, but generally wears more androgynous clothing. Gunnar hot-headed, mean and sadistic

Bonus: Gunnar is aromantic

Ahladita, Hapinness itself | your counterpart | (She/Her)

You and Ahladita were always fighting in your youth. For being counterparts, the mere presence of each other could ruin the other's work in mere seconds. While she was trying to make something happy, you soon came to make the same thing sad and vice versa. If she tried to make a place sunny, you came to make it rainy, but she always had extra advantage, she was older and trained her powers much more than you did. You can choose whethever this rivalry has passed into adulthood or not

If you are not rivals in adulthood, you will know where she is ;if you are rivals, then you won't.

Species: Fairy

Appearance and personality: Ahladita takes the shape of a woman in her early 20s, who has a curvy body of average height (1.70). Her skin has a golden bronze hue and is soft and shiny. Her curly, black hair is inches from dragging on the floor and contrasts perfectly with her golden eyes. She prefers more feminine clothes. She is extremely extroverted and bubbly.

Itoko, Love itself | Someone interested | (They/Them)

Itoko has always had a peculiar interest in all the other gods except happiness, perhaps due to the fact that you are all mostly negative emotions. Itoko were always very observant and had an unhealthy obsession with your brother, but well, counterparts. You both were relatively close in your youth, and you can choose if this continued in your adulthood. They love you, for they love everything they see and feel, but is not romantic and maybe, it's not even platonic, for all you know, it can be more as if you were a... a story, an subject, an object that they are deeply invested in. After a long time, their curiosity turned to you once again, their attention is completely yours now.

You don't know where they are, but it wouldn't be hard to find out.

Species: merfolk

Appearance and personality: Itoko takes an androgynous appearance in their mid-20s. Their curvy, chubby bodie are a creamy shade and their skin is smooth with a heart-shaped scar in the middle of their chest. They are short in height (1.55) and have midnight black hair, which reaches the middle of their back, styled in a hime cut. They prefer feminine clothing, but are usually naked, with just a cloth to cover their genitals. They are calm and observant and love to flirt.

Bonus: they can shapeshift

Dunia, Life, the beginning of everything. | The creator | (She/Her)

Everything came from Dunia and Orpheus, everything belongs to them. She has looked after you and the other Gods since the moment you were born. You never had the best relationship with her, but she was always there.

You know where she is

Appearance and personality: Dunia takes on the appearance of a woman on her mid 40s with a robust and tall build (1,95), with dull brown skin. Her long, wavy hair is tied into a high ponytail and she wears silver armor, which you've only seen her without once in your life. She is a serious and cold woman.

Orpheus, Death, the end of everything | The beginning and the end | (He/Him)

Everything came from Dunia and Orpheus, everything belongs to them. Mortals fear his judgment. Creator of the 7 layers of hell and a father to you, Orpheus, unlike Dunia, has always been very close to you, taking care of you as if you were his own child.

You know where he is

Appearance and personality: Orpheus takes the form of a man in his early 50s, of average height (1,70), with a slim, frail build and a pale skin full of scars. his wavy blonde hair is cut below his ears and is always messy. He is a calm man and is terrible at giving advice.

Demo tba | Pinterest | Playlists

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 2

Ball (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Wasn't really expecting to write arle content so soon but heck i miss writing and school makes me sad :( i have 4 assessments next week. i hate it here. also for @\megistusdiary and @\servalisms who feed me so well <333 love you guys. anyways, following the same concept as the first part here, this is some time after Reader and Arlecchino has made the contract. What do you guys think about this series? Future edit: It's gonna be a blurb, I say. It'll be less than 1k I say. *Looks at the time.* It's 3AM and the finished product is 2.2k words. Again. How do I do this to myself. I'm not calling this a oneshot though because not my greatest quality. Content Warning: Suggestive. semi-graphic descriptions of violence Series Masterlist

It's funny, really, having a demon as your butler. You could never imagine yourself as the type of person to even consider such a notion, and you certainly were not a believer of the supernatural either. Of course, beliefs change and so do mindsets; after all, your worldview was shattered with one singular event. It is that catalyst that has led you down this path. You used to believe that revenge was just a trope, an exaggerated manifestation of pettiness but as you feel it pump through your blood and inject in its veins, revenge is so very palpable. And with the contract, it's graspable, within your reach. It's like a dessert, waiting to be devoured after the main course. And like a dessert, however, in order to really savor it, one must be patient.

It has led you to this point. To a ball, specifically. The preparations have all been laid out, and you know what you your goal from this event is. The only thing left to do is to prepare the final touches and carry out the plan.

For all your meticulous planning, you don't expect yourself to be hindered before you had even gotten to the event. And defeated by a corset dress of all things. You couldn't extend your arms anymore to reach the strings behind your dress. Of course, you have other dresses, but none were as suitable for this event besides this one; this dress is made especially to carry secret compartments for weapons, a feature that none of your other apparels have.

"Arlecchino," you call out to your butler, and within a moment, the air of the room grew considerably colder, alerting you of the demon's sudden appearance. The abrupt chill invokes a chill down your spine and you let out a breathy exhale as you gazed at the mirror in front of you, and could see your servant's form just behind you, her height towering over you. On her face is the usual subtle smirk when she's with you and her red pupils gleamed just slightly.

"You look beautiful, my Lady," she greets with a low drawl although you knew it was out of politeness than admiration. Her irises burn as you could feel it traverse over your exposed back and you can barely suppress the goosebumps that her gaze provoked.

"I didn't summon you here to ogle me, Arlecchino," you say, maintaining a cool tone despite the warmth that bloomed over your bare skin, pricking your senses. A low rumble comes from the being and she leans forward placing her icy black hands over your naked shoulders, fingertips running across the surface smoothly as it slowly nears your collarbone. Her face nears your left ear, her breath cascading against your earlobe.

"Of course. It was simply an observation, my Lady. But, dare I say, you look simply ravishing." The demon whispers against the shell of your ear, her voice adorning the smallest bit of allure in it, and her hands suddenly grip your shoulders as she emphasizes the last word, then relaxing a moment later. Your inhale hitches but no other reaction is displayed outwardly.

"The strings, Arlecchino," you instruct as a distraction away from the soft flaring of your cheeks.

A brief pause as you observe through the mirror the gleam of mischief in the demon's black pits, and her hands move down your shoulder, only the pads of her fingers brushing ghosting over your shoulder blades and yet it feels like the heat from the contact drips down onto your skin. It's a lagging pace, deliberate and feather light as it finally reaches the farthest down string. Prodding fingers caress against your back as she begins maneuvering the strings masterfully, each graze seemingly lingering as it seems like she takes every opportunity to memorize the texture of you on her fingertips. When her painstaking process draws close to its end, she ties the strings together, making it tight enough to make you groan and arch your back from the sting. When you do, she traces a finger up the curvature of your spine.

"Arlecchino," you chastise with a shuddering breath. Hands find themselves on your hips, clawed fingertips faintly digging into you and you're suddenly pulled to her being, chest meeting against your spine.

"You can't possibly fault me for my behavior when you're far too delectable, can you?" She voices against your nape, cold lips just barely hovering over it while you feel hot air stroke against your hair. You shudder. A small ire wells up inside of you and you break from her grasp easily. 

“You know better than to fool around now of all times,” you huff irritably, before spinning around. “Now, are you dressed yet?” 

Your breathing halts once your eyes scan Arlecchino's body. Donning a midnight black tailcoat alongside matching slim trousers, a white button-collared dress shirt with scarlet ruffled cuffs, and finally, a simple jet black necktie. It is not very different compared to her usual apparels, and yet your sight cannot help but stagger over her. She's devilishly handsome, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, objectively pleasant to your view. You get the sense something is missing from her appearance, however, perhaps a mark of yours on her neck. You bite your tongue in reprimand to suppress any more carnal thoughts and you shift your focus away.

“Is it to your liking, my Lady?” A smug smile graces her kissable lips. 

“It's appropriate enough. You're missing something,” You reply back cooly, and you dig around the nearby drawers for the items you search for. Upon finding them, you find ebony gloves and then promptly fling them at the demon's face. They hit squarely, and slide off her mildly shocked expression with a comical, slow pace. It gives you more satisfaction than it should.  

“There,” you remark with a blank expression but a tone matching her prior pomposity. “I suppose you're presentable as my servant now.” 

You brush past her, comforted by the fact her eyes follow your form with each step. 

—

Upon arrival at the ball, it's nearly overwhelming–chatter fills the room and surrounds you at every angle, suffocating you under the noise of whispered gossip. A suited server comes up to you with a glass of some presumed luxurious beverage, no doubt costing a ludicrous amount. You swivel the untouched drink in your hand as you survey other guests, searching for a particular face in general. Arlecchino should be doing something similar right now, if she hasn't already found her target. 

The person you're looking for is no longer to be found, at least in your approximate vicinity. You grind your teeth together and your hand bunches the fabric of your dress in a fist. An advancing man steps into view and strolls towards you, confidence and snobbery exuding from his walking. 

“Would you like a dance, my Lady?” 

You can't help but cringe at the addressment, the term sounding only right from one particular individuial's tongue. But nonetheless, a cordial smile masks your disgust and you agree to it, letting the man lead you to a slow, and quite frankly, boring waltz. His movements are just flamboyanes to cover up his sloppy movements, and it only makes you wonder how a demon can so masterfully practice an art made by humans. During the dance, you try to fish him out of any useful information, but the daft male is incapable of doing anything besides leering at you. 

You could feel at the back of your neck someone else's stare–one that kindles like the flames of hell. You smirk to yourself. Maybe you can use her gaze, taunt her through this. You lean ever so closer, lurching forward to whisper something in his ear and you let his filthy hands wander your form a bit. 

When you finally part from him, enduring one last, disappointing dance, you say your farewells to him. Not out of respect as a dance partner but because you know his life will end in a few minutes. You only hope she remembers to dispose of the body and clean up the evidence. 

You find that she reappears by your side in less than fifteen minutes. It's cute that she does it when you're not in the vicinity, like you don’t already know what she did. How fortunate for you that you've already isolated yourself to a lone balcony when she finds you. Otherwise, people may accuse the two of you as undignified lovers.  

Shortly afterwards, the two of you return to the main location of the ball, and again, you're in search of a certain man. Arlecchino has yet been successful in finding her target and you wander the dance floor once again, though this time, you decline any dance requests. 

Your gaze follows that of a group of men eyeing something, and you trace for what they're looking at. With great irritance, you discover it's the demon that they’re leching over. Something ugly coils in the pit of your stomach, an ugly sensation filling your being the longer you watch their gaze, like a feeling that what they are coveting after is one of your belongings. 

“Arlecchino,” you softly gruff under your breath. You observe from across the large room that her head perks up immediately, reminiscent of how a dog would when its name is called, and without even looking, she steers through the sea of ball-goers towards your direction. 

When she’s finally in front of you, there's an aggravating, knowing grin that Arlecchino fails to hide. “Yes, my Lady?”  

You reach out to tug her necktie to you like a leash and she compliantly lets you pull her face towards you. 

“If people keep leering at you like that, they'll become an inevitable hindrance,” you lie straight through your teeth, hating the way her eyes crinkle in amusement as she sees right through you. The two of you know you're lying.  

“And what are you going to do about it, my Lady?” You should order her to wipe that complacent sneer off of her face, shouldn't you? 

“This,” you give her neck time a harsh yank and your lips brush against her neck, teeth biting her skin and your tongue lapping at the bite mark. It's a quick, stinging action that makes the demon grunt lowly but she's yet to pull away. She wouldn't dare to, not without your instructions. 

You pull away only after a few moments because it's not a mark made out of passion or affection. It’s a mark made out of desperation, out of possessiveness, to remind those who she belongs to and who can touch her. 

“Don't you dare hide it,” you demand, indignation creeping up your words. You release her, and she simply nods, her gloved fingers dabbing the mark. Walking away, you feel strangely content–what was missing from Arlecchino's appearance is there now. 

You call for her one last time during the ball. When you've led the man you were searching for into a private guest room, and you loosen his lips with the suggestiveness of your actions and the alcohol you slip in his hands. The information that spews out to you is useless, the furthest thing to what you desire even when you’ve pushed yourself far past what you'd like. He simply doesn't have what you want, you frustratingly recognize. You've let this man undress you until you're nearly half-naked for nothing. 

At the moment you acknowledge that this entire venture to this ball was for naught, you kick the disgusting man in the face, hard enough to hear a crunch underneath your heel and in his clutched hands, his broken nose bleeds. You sigh and start redressing yourself, thankful at least you didn't allow him to derobe you any further while he chucks insolent expletives and meaningless threats at you. He dares to reach out his hand for you with your back against him and it is then you mutter her name.

“Arlecchino.”

And like every time, she materializes right where you want her to, in between you and the vermin, blocking you from his sight. 

“Yes, my Lady?” She purrs as the man sputters out in shock, tumbling back.

You don't even look over your shoulder to give a command, instead, opting to fix your hair. “Dispose of him.”

There's no need for you to watch the bloodbath. You're familiar with how she kills now. It lasts no more than a few seconds and when you smell soot, you know she's done. You turn around, the last few embers of his body dissipating in the air. There's no remnants of him anymore, the room is spotless clean, except for the smear of blood on her cheek. 

“Don't you demons know how to clean yourselves?” You chastise with an exasperated click of your tongue and extend your hand, your thumb wiping the crimson droplet from her face and then guiding your thumbpad to her lips. Her tongue darts out, and laps up the last trace of him with a deliberate swipe. 

It ignites a blaze in your chest and your heart drums. 

“Take me home, Arlecchino. We're done here.” 

“Of course, my Lady.” 

[wildestdreamsblog]

Hiraeth II

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You had always been his, and no one could take you away from him. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Slight age gap, Murder intention, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: you know what, Kim Seokjin just hits different to me. I miss him and I’m taking u all down with me in my I-miss-u-jin-era.

Masterlist Hiraeth I

After you got over your initial shock in which you thoughtlessly swung your fist to his handsome face, you found yourself sheepishly walking to the kitchen where you could hear him moving. He looked up as soon as you entered the room, one side of his bruised lips tilted up. He watched you moved with a secretive smile on his face that you so badly wanted to erase. Jin looked like he was thoroughly enjoying this. You couldn’t help but notice how much he changed. He matured, no longer the young man who had soft cheeks and undefined body. Instead, your eyes roamed over his sharp features and his muscular back that couldn’t be hidden by his shirt. In front of you was a man who was confident. And you didn’t know how to handle him.

You didn’t know how to handle him when in the first place, you thought you would never see him again, not after you ran from him. Not after he begged you to come back.

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked after enough time had passed and he was still looking at you as though he was waiting for you to crack. And you did. You could’t take his heavy eyes, couldn’t take the silence as he watched you.

Was he this insufferable when you were younger?

Were you just too blind to see him for how he really was?

Additionally…was he this beautiful when you were younger? Or was time just unfairly favorable to him?

He gestured to the noodles he was stirring. “I’m cooking us breakfast, princess.”

His old name for you hindered you from reacting quickly. You blinked owlishly, memories of him calling you that playing in flashback.

“Yes….but why here?”

He turned off the stove leisurely as if his answer wouldn’t rattle your whole world before leaning his body on the counter, his eyes focused on yours. “Where else would I be? I live here.”

“What? B-but, your mother- she didn’t tell me…”

He shrugged, busying himself with plating the food and bringing it to the simple yet elegant dining table. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” He asked in a nonchalant voice, his movements precise and calm.

When you didn’t answer, he tilted his head to the side, his hand inside his pocket as he stalked slowly to where you were standing near the door. If he noticed how you seemed to be one push away from running, he didn’t comment. Instead, there he was, his tall form towering over you. “Do I make you nervous, princess?”

“J-Jin-“

“Tsk,” he shook his head, his dark, unfathomable eyes focused on yours. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, giving him that regal look you always thought he possessed. “What happened to ‘Oppa’?” He asked in what one would thought of as a sincere question, but the mocking glint in his eyes could not fool you.

“I-I don’t-“

“Hmm? You don’t what?” He whispered sweetly, his fingers stroking your hair. He was transfixed with the way time changed you. Yet, he hated how he wasn’t there to experience growing up with you because you took yourself away from his grasp. But no more. He took a deep breath to calm the demons in him, before flashing you his usual, carefree smile.

“Do I still affect you, princess?”

“N-no!”

Jin regarded you for a moment too long, his eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief and danger. “Perfect,” he beamed at you before pulling your wrist to the dining table. “There’s no reason for you not to stay here, then. Come on, let’s eat.”

Despite him acting as though no years passed between the two of you, you simply couldn’t. You could feel the weight of seeing him in person sitting heavily on your shoulders, could hear the unspoken words no one had the strength and courage to say, could feel the guilt and anguish in your heart.

“So,” you began, your eyes focused on the chopsticks in your hand. “H-how have you been, Seokjin?”

He scoffed, his dark eyes boring on yours. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“It’s just that…it’s been so long.”

“And whose fault is that,” he stated tonelessly, his large hand closing to a fist before calming himself down. He needed to remind himself that he had you now, that he wasn’t going to lose you this time.

He had to remind himself that he needed to forgive you if he wanted a clean start with you.

“Never mind,” you sighed, clearly discouraged with his response. What did you expect? You practically ghosted him the moment your turned eighteen, turning your back on your closest childhood friend, to your remaining family just because you were in pain.

Perhaps, you should acknowledge that you hurt him in the process of healing yourself. You didn’t know if you wanted to fix the ruined relationship between the two of you, didn’t know if you could redeem yourself. You had so much buried feelings that you didn’t know if this was worth it.

You quietly ate your food, already internally planning your living situation. You would sort out your living situation today. You could not live with Jin, not when he made you feel things you thought you had long killed. You could not-

“I’m sorry.”

You blinked owlishly as you looked up at the man sitting in front of you. Your astonished and lost expression softened his resolve, it melted his anger.

Only you could silence the dark thoughts in his head. Ironically, you were the reason why the demons in his mind were born.

“I shouldn’t have said that. You were just trying your best to heal the way you know how. It’s okay,” Jin stated, his eyes trained on you, willing you to see his sincerity. Except that it wasn’t okay you left. Yet, he knew it was the best for you despite it destroying him so monumental it took him years to feel normal.

Should you leave him again, he knew the carefully reconstructed sanity of his will tumble down.

“I’m just sorry you had to do it all alone,” he whispered sadly.

Aside from your therapist, you had never spoken about this with anyone. To you, it was something so tragic that saying it would make you relive the pain, loneliness and desperation it caused you. This was the first time in almost a decade that someone acknowledged your pain, you strength, and the sacrifices made along the way.

“But princess,” he continued, his hand reaching across the table to clasp yours. And once he did, he felt peace the moment he was able to touch you. “You don’t have to be alone. Not anymore.”

It was an hour later when you emerge to the living room where Jin was drying his hair. His movements slowed down when he saw you after you ran once again from him. After he said that you didn’t have to be alone, you walked to the bedroom without a word. You didn’t know how to handle your emotions, and the only way you knew how was to run.

And so ran, you did.

He raised his dark eyebrows at you when you didn’t say anything. “Going somewhere?”

You nodded, looking anywhere but him. Was he always this handsome even when had just showered? Was this fair? You looked like a drenched cat when you finished showering, and yet he looked like he was shooting a commercial.

“D-do you know where the nearest bus stop is?”

He nodded, “It’s more than an hour away.”

“What about taxi?”

He blinked innocently, “This is an exclusive neighborhood, princess. Taxis are not allowed here,” he shared in a thoughtful manner.

You swore under your breath. You had grown up in Korea, but you lived your whole adult life in abroad that you were no longer confident with yourself here. You were so certain that you would get lost.

He watched you with a smirk in his face, “You can borrow one of my cars,” he offered with an innocent look on his face.

“I don’t know how to drive.”

He knew that.

“In that case,” he sighed as he stood up, stretching his hands upwards. You didn’t even have it in you to not look at his toned abs, didn’t have it in you to look away from his leaned, yet muscular arms. Jin smiled innocently at you when he noticed your wandering eyes.

“In that case, I need to drive you,” Jin shook his head slowly as though he was burdened by this when the truth was that this was his plan all along.

Jin sat patiently at the hotel lobby, his legs spread out. He was smiling indulgently as you walked near him with a defeated expression in your face. Jin was wearing a black cap to hide his identity, and besides that, an inconspicuous bodyguard was trailing after the two of you at Jin’s command. He wouldn’t risk his princess, after all.

He looked up at you as you stood in front of him, your expression confused and tired as you informed him that there was no available room. This was the seventh hotel you went to, and so far your plan hadn’t been successful.

“So?”

You shook your head, clearly apparent that you wouldn’t move out today. You were stuck. And you loathed depending on anyone, more so you hated depending on him again just like when you were younger. Just like when he would always take care of you, regardless if he was reluctant or not. You became overly independent when you moved away from everyone. It was a thing that your therapist was still trying to resolve. However, you just couldn’t let yourself depend on anyone on anything ever gain for the fear that one day, they might leave you alone too.

“I’ll just stay in a motel-“

Jin stood up, his proximity effectively cutting you off. He tilted your chin up, his eyes serious. “I’m not making you leave, princess. You can stay with me as long as you want,” he offered with a sincere smile in his face when all he wanted to say was that your place was beside him, and it should have been the case since the beginning if only he didn’t lose control. He could see the battle in your eyes, the weariness and the stubbornness to not to give in to him was apparent. You needed a nudge.

You entered the quaint restaurant, your eyes roaming around the area as you waited for Jin. He dropped you off in front before parking his car. The restaurant had a homey vibes to it. Sunlight was freely flowing to the room, and the windows were open which allowed the customers to feel the pleasant breeze. You could see customers enjoying their food and talking animatedly with the other- more so the one group on your right who had their heads bowed down, too engrossed with their food while talking and laughing among themselves. You felt a hand on the small of your back. You looked behind you to see Seokjin smiling at you with his cap still on. He was guiding you in when you heard the sound of utensils falling on the floor. You looked to your right where the group of men were eating and realization dawned upon you.

Jungkook’s eyes were the first ones you met. His doe eyes were even bigger from shock, his mouth agape with his chopstick suspended in the air. Beside him was Taehyung who looked at you and Jin with knowing eyes before smiling that rectangular smile of his. Jimin and Hoseok both looked at you in surprised.

“H-hyung?” Jungkook called Jin with confusion in his face as he looked down at Jin’s hand on you. He had never seen his hyung touched someone from another gender willingly. To be honest, Seokjin didn’t care much about anyone outside the members and his own family. Seeing him looking at you with too much emotion in his otherwise emotionless eyes made all of them curious about who you were.

Jin sighed before looking at his members. “You’re all here. Again.”

“We were starving…” the man you recognized as the leader explained sheepishly. He turned to look at you before smiling, “Hi. I’m Namjoon. And you are?”

—

You found yourself sat beside Seokjin who was busy putting food on your plate. If he noticed his members looking at him as though an imposter took his place, he didn’t comment. It was as if the six men looking at the two of you with mixture of bewilderment from Jungkook and Jimin, curiosity from Namjoon and Hoseok, amusement from Taehyung and strangely, indifference from Yoongi, didn’t bother him.

But it bothered you.

You broke eye contact with Taehyung who was sitting beside you with his chin resting on his hand as he examined you with twinkle in his eyes to look at the other man beside you.

“Are you sure it’s fine for me to sit with you? What if someone sees?” You leaned to whisper at Jin.

He merely shrugged. It didn’t matter. In fact, he wanted the world to know you were his. “Eat, princess.”

“I can’t,” you whispered once again, hyperaware of the six pair of eyes on you and him.

“Why?”

“Why are they looking at me?”

Seokjin craned his neck up, frustration evident on his face before looking at his younger members with a terrifying glare. “Why are you always here?”

“We were hungry-“

“And you ate. Now leave.”

“Is that how you treat your customers, hyung?” Jimin teased with a pout before looking at you innocently.

Wait, this was his?

“You’re not my customers because you all rarely pay!”

Chaos ensued as the men bickered and teased each other. You could see the familiarity and the love between them that came with years and years of companionship. You were unknowingly smiling before eating your late lunch. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you actually ate. They were all still arguing, albeit without any claws to their words, when you felt a finger poking your arm.

“I’m Taehyung,” he introduced himself before offering you his hand. You shook his hand warily. “I’m Y/N.”

“So, Y/N, how did you know my hyung?” He asked, uncaring of the bickering of the men in front of him. He was more interested with who you were. His hyung never did once look at any woman, never once did he touch them. In fact, he was irritated whenever some woman would sauntered to him and flirted. Behind his hyung’s pleasant personality and contagious laugh lied his cold persona reserved for people who didn’t matter to him.

Which was exactly why you were a puzzle to the group. For the first time since they met him, they saw their hyung smiled so genuinely at a woman. For the first time, they saw the darkness that somehow terrified them in Jin’s eyes vanished.

“Oh uhm. We’re childhood friends. His parents and my dad were the best of friends.”

Were?

Yoongi, who hadn’t said a thing yet, tilted his head when he heard you. He looked at you with indifferent eyes before slyly shifting his bored gaze to his only hyung who visibly stiffened from your words.

Interesting.

You watched him as he took his pillow and RJ in his arms. Seokjin really looked comfy and yet, so beautiful despite wearing only his pajamas. “You know I can take the sofa. I don’t mind. I really don’t want to be an imposition on-“

“Nonsense, princess. I want you to be comfortable here. You’re my guest after all,” he turned to look at you before smiling. He walked towards the bed where you were sitting. He leaned down and softly placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Good night, my princess,” he whispered, and before you could even react, he was out of the room.

You opened your eyes, and you were back to that nightmare. You saw your father walking away from you to that damned lake. You felt your heart skipped a beat, your legs moving faster and faster to stop him.

You knew what would happened.

You had seen this before.

You had lived this before.

“Dad! Please. Stop!” You shouted on top of your lungs, but it was as though he didn’t hear you. He kept on walking and walking, until he was in the middle of the frozen lake. He paused his movement to look at you. He never aged. His looks frozen in time.

“Run, my daughter,” he said with a serious note in his voice. This was different. He never said this in all your nightmares. “Run far. And don’t come back.”

“What? Dad, please! Just come here!” You shouted, and now you felt tears falling freely on your face. You knew what would happened.

You knew his destiny.

And you could never do anything about it but to see him fall to the icy water.

“Y/N! Wake up.”

“Princess, please. Wake up. It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”

“Wake up.”

And then you woke up. Your breath were ragged as though you were running for your life. You could feel his fingers wiping away your tears. You were full-on sobbing in front of him. And before you knew it, his arms were around you as he maneuvered your body to rest on top of his chest. Your hand fisted his shirt, wanting anything to ground you. Your heart was beating faster despite escaping the nightmare, and for the life of you, you didn’t know why you still felt unsafe.

Soothingly, he was running his hand on your back. Seokjin was patient as he waited for you to calm down. You felt his lips on top of your head. You heard him whisper how you were safe with him and that he would never let anything bad happen to you ever again.

And that night, he didn’t let you go.

—

“My baby looks so handsome!” His mother cooed at the four-year old Seokjin. She fixed his hair gently before holding his tiny hand in hers. She followed her husband inside their closest friend’s home. His wife had just given birth a month ago and this was the first time they would see the little bundle of joy. She was so ecstatic when she learned that the baby was a girl, much to her son’s disgust.

‘Girls are yucky, mommy!’

“Do you wanna see her?”

Did he? He looked thoughtful for a moment, his adorable pout ever so present in his lips. Perhaps, he should see what the fuss was about. He was almost certain- no, he was 100% sure that he was more endearing than that little elf who did nothing but cried.

But fine, he supposed he should look at her one time, then never again.

With a reluctant nod, his mother patted the seat beside her. Once he was fully sat down, his mother lowered the baby to his level which allowed him to peak at the crying Y/N.

Seokjin’s eyes widened at how could someone as little as you cried so loud?

Additionally, how could someone as little as you looked so…wonderful?

As though he was in a trance, Jin moved his face closer to you. His little hand was on its way to caress your hair when he heard his mother gently warn him to be careful. And so, he did. His little hand touched the sparse hair on your small head. He caressed it once, twice, and to the adults’ surprised, you stopped wailing your heart out as thought you were finally at peace.

“She likes you,” your father observed, his eyebags made it apparent that you weren’t letting your parents sleep.

“I think we should keep him with her so she would stop crying, right Jinnie?” He teased the little child.

Jin, on other hand, didn’t say anything. His focus was solely on you. Little Seokjin deemed it okay to stay with you.

It was a sweet moment, really it was. Until Jin dove down to peck your lips, and then chaos ensued.

Hiraeth III

[h0lyfrypan]

comforting satoru in the months after the night parade of a hundred demons. you are a former classmate, who graduated alongside satoru and shoko. despite being shot down for months, you persist on trying to comfort him.

mourning, character death, no dialogue, implied satosugu if you squint. ur both not ok. i wrote this because i rely on dialogue too much. it's super short!

Satoru had changed—there was no doubt. After the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, something inside him broke for good. Both of you had quietly hoped Suguru would return, that somehow he could avoid punishment. That day never came, despite years of waiting, and now it never would.

You vividly recall the day your cell phone rang, breaking Satoru's usual pattern of self-reliance. He was a natural at almost everything he tried (it seriously was a piss off), but on the other end of the line was a broken man. He didn’t need to voice the words; you had an innate understanding. It was always that way between you two. You knew Suguru was gone.

Satoru Gojo had a knack for keeping people at arm's length. He was 'the Strongest,' and he didn't appreciate how you could always sense when something troubled him. Your eyes softened when you were alone, the subtle checks to ensure he ate, and your consistent efforts to reach out—through letters, texts, or in person. You knew his Infinity would hinder you, but you persisted. With every brick he placed to build up his walls, you were on the other side with your own set of tools; a determined demolitionist.

The period after was a blur. Was it days? Weeks? Months? Time seemed meaningless as you sat in the morgue with Shoko, the only other person who truly comprehended what Satoru might be going through—but she was mourning, too. After all, you were once classmates and friends. The way she chain-smoked in silence, her lack of words mirrored yours. Occasionally, Satoru joined you both, but he and Shoko only discussed business. He didn't engage with you- and Shoko just wasn't as emotionally attuned as you, and that was okay, you’d never hold that against her. Everyone plays different roles in this world.

It was a while before you truly heard from Satoru again. He had a way of presenting himself as fine, radiating happiness—especially in front of his students. He engaged with them, laughed, stirred up mischief, yet emotionally, he maintained a distance. It concerned you that no one else seemed motivated to try and reach him. Perhaps they weren't as naive as you, believing they could break through. His request for you to watch his house for a few days puzzled you. It seemed unnecessary; surely he could afford to hire someone. Nonetheless, you agreed.

His apartment was cold, barebones, and modern. It suited him—a man rarely at home. Just a space for sleep when he wasn't teaching or battling curses across the country. Old clothing lay strewn about, a few dishes scattered. The ambiance felt solitary. You wondered: was he truly living, or merely existing?

Hours passed, time an elusive, unreachable concept lately. Being here for a few days justified sorting his clothes into the hamper and doing some dishes. There was nothing better to occupy your time, and he might appreciate the gesture. While rinsing cups in hot, soapy water, your mind wandered. Perhaps if you'd been closer to Suguru, you might know how to help Satoru now. Maybe Suguru could have shared the secret, but likely there was none. Suguru wasn't you, and you weren't him. Their bond was special, something you couldn't grasp. That wasn't necessarily bad, though it felt so—Ouch! Your hand under the scalding water snapped you out of that train of thought (maybe for the best).

Cold water relieved the small burn. You searched for bandages around the apartment, not eager to rummage but forced by the forming blister on your finger. As you explored cupboards and shelves, thoughts circled back to Satoru. While tending to your wound on the couch, a question arose: did Satoru always feel this way? When 'the Strongest' is down, who's there to pick him up?

Grieving for Suguru lately made you furious. Did Suguru not comprehend Satoru's willingness to let him return? That Satoru would have done anything to anyone to ensure his safe return to Jujutsu Society?  Suguru's flawed philosophies often left you contemplating and upset. Blaming a dead man for everything was too easy, but unjust.

Surveying the showroom-like apartment, your frustration grew and you teared up. You weren't Suguru, you weren’t strong– but maybe you were strong enough to lift Satoru—if only he allowed it.

Satoru had convinced himself there was no one else. Back in high school, he accepted it. There would never be anyone like Suguru Geto—no one coming close to understanding the weight he bore. To be a weapon before a human, a tool with a face, a means to an end. Yet, you persisted. He detested (perhaps a strong word) how you saw through him, how deeply you cared.

In truth, he wanted that. He just wished it didn't feel so vulnerable. He wasn't meant to be vulnerable—or that's what he felt. He appreciated every ignored text, every rejected hug, every lunch left on his desk at Jujutsu Tech, but fear overwhelmed him. How did you see through him so effortlessly? How could he be sure you wouldn’t leave?

He resented himself for not letting you in. He wanted to, truly, but the walls he built didn't just bar others out; they trapped him too. Coming home to find you asleep on the couch, curled up, blanketless and tear-stained, changed something. Maybe it was your unintended display of vulnerability, the secluded setting, or his own exhaustion. The reason mattered little.

With care to be quiet, he slipped into his bedroom, retrieving the comforter from his bed—the sole blanket in the apartment—and gently draped it over your sleeping figure. Kneeling by your side, he gently wiped away the tear stains from your cheek. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to touch you, or anyone for that matter. His breath caught when you stirred, your eyes meeting his. For once, you were unobstructed by any blindfold or infinity.

Without hesitation, you shifted from the cushion, pulling him into your arms, guiding his head to rest against your neck. He loathed this—knowing you understood his unspoken desires, yet grateful he didn't have to verbalize them. This vulnerability was taxing enough. He reciprocated, wrapping his arms around you.

And then, he cried.

It felt awful, comforting, almost amusing. Only a few silent tears fell before he composed himself, easing into your embrace as best he could from their awkward position. He almost chuckled at himself—for all the fear he harbored about opening up, finding such reassurance in your arms made it seem absurd. Shifting slightly, he settled back on the couch, intertwining both of your limbs and enveloping both of you in the blanket.

As you moved to speak, he gently hushed you with a finger to your lips. You understood, as you always did—this wasn't something he wanted acknowledged aloud. Bodies pressed together, his head nestled against your chest, holding onto you so tightly it felt as though you might meld into one. He was utterly exhausted.

Time remained elusive, now for a different reason. Your fingers combing through his soft hair, the sweet scent of his shampoo lingering in the air. The rhythm of your breathing and heartbeats creates a tempo for this rare and peculiar intimacy. For the first time in ages, perhaps since high school, Satoru didn't feel like 'the Strongest’. He felt painfully human, finding safety in your embrace.

This apartment, that was never quite a home, suddenly felt like one in your arms.

[stayfortwominutes]

💭 reaction | lee know & changbin (part one)

prompt; "what do you need?" "... a kiss"

disclaimers; written in second person perspective, very amateur descriptions of kissing, no depictions of the members' personalities, actions or thoughts reflect their true character.

pairing; SKZ members x gender neutral reader

content; fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive*, established relationships | total word count; 1.1 k

related; part two ー hyunjin & seungmin

member; lee know (minho) | wc. 490+

a spirit of festivity kindled to life as the delightful aroma of cinnamon, ginger and honey wafted through the kitchen of your cosy apartment. basking in the serenity of each other’s presence was the perfect way to spend your weekend after a stressful week at your work.

perched upon the counter, you read the recipe as minho precisely measured each portion of flour, butter, sugar, and the necessary spices. he asked you to help combine the dry ingredients, knowing the mindless task would help reduce your mind’s unyielding chatter, diverting your attention to the task at hand. minho had developed a wondrous sixth sense about you, pinpointing the precise moments when you were need of respite before you would ever admit it.

as the two of you shaped the biscuits, you conversed through your respective weeks: you were inundated with more work than you were being paid for, whilst minho delved into details from his new dance routines and funny stories between him and the boys.

carefully placing the tray into the oven, minho took to cleaning the dishes. he insisted on an impromptu karaoke session, which you happily obliged, using a spare spatula as a makeshift microphone, and spontaneously pointing it in his direction as you rearranged your favourite songs into a couple’s duet. the sounds of laughter, music and the hint of spices danced in the air to create a blissfully domestic atmosphere that deliquesced your week’s worries.

ding.

the oven timer signalling its end snaps the two of you from your blithe bubble.

“oh, i forgot the most important thing…” minho muses aloud.

“what do you need?” you move to shuffle yourself off the counter, but minho is quick to hinder your path. he stands in between your knees, hands resting on the marble surface below, at either side of your thighs.

“…a kiss,” he breathes, before interlocking his lips with yours.

his hands come up, one placed behind your neck, and the other finding itself comfortably in the small of your back under your shirt.

the kiss begins slowly, the initial contact feathery, as he takes in your surprise. you immediately melt into his touch, your hands encircle his waist, pulling him closer and pressing your chest to his. you sigh in euphoria, and minho tenderly captures your lips again with his. his warm hands lovingly draw soothing patterns against your skin.

you reluctantly let minho pull back. he rests his forehead against yours.

“love, that's my secret ingredient,” he whispers. his plump reddened lips forming into a coy smile.

“i better take the biscuits out to rest.” the tips of minho's ears flushed red as splashes of pink burnt your cheeks.

now invested in minho’s mischief, you hook a finger in his collar to lure him back into your hold.

“forget the biscuits,” you mutter against his lips, feeling him smile into the kiss.

the two of you were soon lost indulging in the sweet, decadent taste of one another.

member; changbin | wc. 620+

you sit on your couch, observing your boyfriend as he paces back and forth, up the hall and then down to the entryway.

“i didn’t want to be alone today,” changbin whines. his gym session was cut vexingly short after chan and han had been summoned back to the company for a last-minute schedule. although not entirely a fan of exercising yourself, you sympathise and endeavour to offer him some motivation.

“how about we do some exercise together? you can do some sit-ups and i’ll hold onto your legs!” you chirp, conjuring up a cheeky method to motive him. he steadfastly moves the coffee table to the side of the room, and rolls out a thick, cushioned yoga mat.

“won’t be a moment!” you call, sauntering to the bedroom, to don a sweatband, before quickly slathering on a generous layer of changbin’s favourite lip balm: strawberry.

you briskly return and settle yourself with him on the mat in the centre of your living room floor.

“alright,” you begin, lacing your arms together underneath his calves, “before we start, i need you to do something for me.”

“what do you need?” he queries with slight perplexity.

“a kiss.”

“for every five sit ups, i’ll grant one kiss.” the apples of your cheeks round proudly. changbin holds your gaze, as the edges of his mouth begin to turn upwards in favour of your proposition, his demeanour brightening.

“deal!” he exclaims with refound vigour.

the kisses are simple, soft pecks. changbin was still engrossed in fulfilling his quotidian routine, but once he grazed your bottom lip, and recognised the familiar strawberry balm, his mind short circuited.

the next couple of kisses, he grew impatient, hastily pulling up and leaning even impossibly closer to you; lingering to enjoy a moment’s longer taste. you ease back, swatting kittenishly at a rogue hand that comes to cup your cheek.

“play nice,” you facetiously scold.

several more sets of sit-ups pass by, and changbin sheepishly obeys, his lips practically ghosting over yours.

you became crescively enamoured by the scene before you. changbin’s biceps flexed in complete glory as he continued his routine. the plump, porcelain skin an inviting site for just one small bite.

you plunge forward as he comes up; a resounding yelp emits from him. his arms no longer bent at the sides of his head, as he rubs at the glistening, red-tinged indent of your teeth that imprint just below his shoulder.

“what did you just do?” changbin stares back at you, a look of disbelief growing on his face as his mouth hangs agape and his brows start to furrow.

you stumble back, stifling a chuckle of satisfaction. “they looked so biteable.”

“you’ve got biteable biceps, baby.” you croon nonsensically.

“mmm, yummy." you hold your hands up in front of you as you curl your fingers in to mimic claws. a deviously glint twinkles in your eyes.

changbin reciprocates your sprightly behaviour, and nimbly tackles you down onto the mat. his fingers tickling mercilessly at the sides of your torso causing you to writhe underneath him in a fit of giggles. with his elated mood, he peppers kisses from your temples to your cheeks, and along your jaw.

then, a light bulb switches on in his mind, and he halts. continuing to hover over you, the look in his eyes slightly darkens; he licks his lip in a sultry manner.

with a few swift moves, changbin effortlessly hoists you up from the mat, into his arms, and walks the two of you in the direction of your bedroom. a smirk mysteriously graces his features. you study his face, your wide eyes brimming with anticipation.

“it’s time i get a proper reward for all my hard work.”  

consider reading more: masterlist

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა note; as per the poll, i wrote this in second person, and i hope there was enough variation between each member's storyline that it wasn't repetitive! the prompt list i stumbled upon sparked a bunch of different ideas but i couldn't confidently write for all members so i chose the "best" ideas out of all eight that i roughly plotted. as usual, please enjoy, and reblog if you liked it, thank you 💖 please check out the original post from @scealaiscoite for the prompt! © stayfortwominutes ; september 02, 2023.

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Katroome

CR 1

Chaotic Neutral Small Magical Beast

Module: Gallows of Madness, pg. 62

These massive, colorful caterpillars spend their entire lives as such, seemingly never pupating into anything no matter how much (or what) they eat. They don't seem to particularly mind, though, and in fact revel in their adorably pudgy form with alarmingly human eyes, seeing it as a perfect state of being for their life's mission: Being the imperious guards of the forest.

Katroome, for whatever reason, ALL believe themselves to be powerful authorities in the natural world. They are not kings or monarchs (since they never pupate into butterflies, you see), but they have the same opinion of themselves an influential captain of the guard or perhaps a particularly combative mayor would hold: they are a figure worth listening to and obeying, one which protects and defends its small slice of a greater kingdom ruled by powerful nature spirits and Fey. Such beings are the only creatures a Katroome bows to, all others are expected to bow to the pudgy bug instead. The book doesn't really explain how actual, powerful forest guardians see these pompous and confident creatures, but their noted extreme rarity has some unfortunate implications.

Do not view their confidence as fully suicidal, though; Katroome aren't particularly wise (11 Wis), but they ARE smarter than the average human (14 Int) and thus smart enough to know they're squishy-squishy and delicious to a good 90% of life on the planet. Much like a guard captain in a town that hasn't seen real conflict or danger for several years, Katroome investigate any potential malfeasance in their territory with the utmost of caution, and if there IS danger present, they take pains to remain hidden from it and hinder it from afar... all while rallying other guards or getting into contact with higher authorities as needed. They have no DR, no resistances or immunities, and no special defensive abilities, relying entirely on their 20ft climb speed, Small size, and +14 to Stealth to keep out of sight of anything that might be particularly hostile, their 1/day Invisibility acting as an emergency escape option if they're under threat of physical harm.

Katroome being pursued by a hostile force will typically lead that force into areas where it's strung up its web traps and its sticky sheets, slowing attackers down if not neutralizing them entirely and leaving them helpless to other forest guardians. They can also spit their webs from afar up to eight times a day, and though their webbing isn't particularly strong (with a whopping 2 hitpoints), it can at least stick many creatures in place for a round or two. These webs also allow the Katroome to glue weapons or items to the ground or snatch them away, and cocoon troublesome invaders inside their tents or sleeping bags as they rest, both pranks the caterpillars are noted to do.

When webs are too overt, Katroome can use Command 3/day or Suggestion 1/day to sow chaos among a party of invaders, disarming them or causing them to split up... but they're just as likely to use these spells for casual mischief and greed. It is only fitting, of course, that a noble guardian like the Katroome be gifted that expensive-looking hat your Wizard is wearing, you see. Katroome lairs are often decorated with minor magic items they've managed to pilfer from passers-by, either as 'payment' for 'allowing' the creatures passage, or because the Katroome simply stole it with its webbing or its convincing magic.

A caster which particularly impresses or befriends a Katroome may earn the questionable blessing of the creature's trust and a vow of assistance, the big bugs allowing themselves to leave their forested environs to join the quest of a party as Familiars... of course, in this particular relationship, the caterpillars tend to believe it's the casters which are their Familiars, a delusion their new bond is encouraged not to challenge if they wish to keep the bugs on their side. Who knows, perhaps the bond of a Katroome is worth something when going to speak to powerful Fey...?

You can read more about them here.

[starsreminisce]

Lucien Week

Day Three: Mask

Lucien released a heavy breath as he sank into the tub filled with fragrant water and oils. He leaned his head back, savoring the warmth that enveloped him, as the House dropped a copy of the latest Sellyn Drake novel into his reach.

"Maybe when I'm done in the bath, but thank you," he murmured.

The book vanished, replaced by a glass of wine. He offered his gratitude to the House once more before reclining further into the bath, seeking solace after the tumultuous day he'd endured.

The Night Court had extended an invitation to Princess Sigrid of Vallahan to negotiate the long-pending treaty they'd been working on for over a year. Lucien had suggested the idea, hoping to utilize the advantage of home turf, a suggestion that Rhys had approved.

The day had begun with a welcoming gala for Princess Sigrid, attended by representatives from all the Courts except Tamlin, who was notably absent. The evening should have unfolded smoothly, with Lucien introducing the Princess and participating in the customary dances. However, he hadn't anticipated the presence of his mate—though she had yet to make a decision regarding their bond—attending the party with Azriel, the Court's spymaster.

Rhys had seethed with anger and promised to address it later, while Feyre had insisted that Elain's presence was innocent, explaining that she had decided at the last minute to attend, and Azriel was the only one available to accompany her.

Lucien didn't care for the reasons. He had long accepted that Elain would eventually reject their bond, and this was just a painful dance they would continue for centuries.

So he donned the mask he had perfected over centuries—an affable, charismatic suitor concealing the heartbreak that churned beneath the surface.

And he did it remarkably well. He dedicated himself to the Princess, keeping a watchful eye on both her and Elain to avoid any potential complications that might hinder the treaty negotiations. Devoting himself to the Princess was easier than facing the painful reality of what could have been with Elain.

The only challenge he faced was when he had to introduce the Princess to the Inner Circle, forcing himself to smile and compliment Elain and Azriel in front of the Princess. Princess Sigrid, curious, had inquired in her native tongue if all three couples were mates, and Lucien had replied vaguely, saying, "It would seem to be."

The night wore on, and he showered the Princess with attention, flirting and subtly leaning into her touches. When she finally suggested they find a more private setting, he took a bottle of wine from the wet bar and led her to a quiet area of the House with a view of the city.

It wasn't until they left the bustling ballroom that waves of jealousy, anger, concern, and curiosity flooded his mind through the bond. He blocked them out.

"That Lady Elain, she's your mate, isn't she?" Princess Sigrid inquired, taking a swig from the bottle before passing it to him.

"She has yet to make a decision regarding our bond," Lucien answered, taking a sip of the wine.

"It was quite fun making her jealous," Sigrid mused, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "No one back in Vallahan would have been so bold as to provoke me."

"Is this the reason you wanted to speak privately?" Lucien asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from his own predicament.

"No," Sigrid frowned. "I wanted to talk about the treaty."

"We have plenty of time to discuss that," Lucien tried to dismiss it.

"Not in the way that I want to speak to you privately," Sigrid insisted. "It's not me you have to convince; it's my father. We do want to sign it, but the slavery clause troubles him, and truthfully, it troubles me too."

Lucien launched into his persuasive pitch, emphasizing the benefits of the treaty outweighing the controversial clause. He recounted the invaluable assistance the humans had provided to Prythian and their role in winning the war. He spoke of the complex history between their realms and ended by proposing a conversation with the High Lady and the Leader of the Valkyries, who had been instrumental in overcoming initial obstacles. He also expressed his willingness to involve Queen Vassa and Jurian in the discussions.

After several minutes of careful negotiation, the Princess finally spoke, "Set it up then. I am willing to listen to what they all have to say."

"Thank you," Lucien smiled genuinely.

"I am exhausted," Sigrid admitted. "If you would be so kind as to escort me back to my room, I would greatly appreciate it."

Lucien complied, ending the evening with a kiss on her hand, which she returned with lingering kisses on both his cheeks.

"Thank you for an enchanting evening," Lucien said with a polite smile.

As Sigrid was about to enter her room, she paused and looked at him, her gaze filled with unexpected seriousness. "If your mate decides to reject the bond, come to Vallahan with me. You can be more than just an emissary here. You can be my king and rule beside me when the time comes."

Lucien inhaled sharply, caught off guard and unable to find words.

"Think about it," Princess Sigrid said. "Your decision won't affect the outcome of the treaty, but I wanted you to know there is an option for you."

He released a deep breath and returned to the ballroom, where he spotted Rhys and Feyre in a passionate embrace, interrupted by Rhys's sudden focus on him. Lucien reluctantly opened his mind to reveal the princess's willingness to discuss the treaty, even as he kicked Rhys's intrusive presence from his thoughts. The revelation of Sigrid's offer to him was met with raised eyebrows from the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.

Turning his gaze to Elain and Azriel, Lucien saw them sitting side by side, their interactions tense. Elain appeared unhappy, and Azriel remained stoic and distant. Lucien couldn't help but wish he could swap places with Azriel. He longed for Elain's presence throughout the evening, knowing she could have convinced the Princess to sign the treaty on behalf of her father. He would have welcomed an angry Elain over a contented Princess, but ultimately, his desires held no sway.

Their eyes met briefly, and the yearning within him intensified.

Unable to bear it any longer, Lucien turned and left the ballroom, retreating to his room in the House of Wind.

There, he pondered the Princess's unexpected offer. Perhaps his departure would force Elain to make a decision, or maybe he would make one for himself to end the heartbreak and confusion that plagued him. Could the vast distance between them offer him the solace he needed to heal? Would the mask he wore with the Princess gradually become his reality, as real as it had been until the day he met his mate?

Leaving the bath, he dried himself off and settled into bed, picking up the novel and a glass of wine. As he read, he contemplated the Princess's proposition, deciding that he didn't need to make a choice just yet. Instead, he would focus on the treaty and see if the offer still held. He delved back into the novel, losing himself in its pages as he sipped his wine.

A while later, a persistent knocking interrupted his solitude. At first, he ignored it, but it grew louder, becoming impossible to disregard. Reluctantly, he allowed the House to answer the door.

"Is it true?" Elain demanded as she entered the room, her eyes ablaze with a mix of frustration and concern, disregarding his naked state.

Lucien glanced at her but didn't bother to look up from the book, the pages a refuge from the storm of emotions brewing between them.

"He's waiting for you to take you home," Lucien replied with a casual nonchalance, the words escaping his lips as if they were as insignificant as a passing breeze.

"He can wait as long as he wants, but this can't," Elain declared with an air of authority that sent a shiver down Lucien's spine.

"She's open to signing the treaty," he replied coolly, his voice laced with a hint of detachment. "But it's not her decision."

"Don't play dumb with me."

He turned his head toward her, his gaze locking onto her eyes. "She made an offer for me to come to Vallahan."

"As her consort?"

No mask. Not for this.

"Yes," Lucien admitted with a hint of resignation, his words laden with the weight of an unbearable truth.

Elain seemed beside herself, her emotions swirling like a tempest as she shook her head, unable to comprehend the complexity of the situation. "And did you accept?"

Lucien's brow furrowed as he took another sip of wine, trying to shield himself from the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf him. "It's not the first time a female has asked for my hand in marriage. I haven't decided yet."

"So will you accept?" Elain scoffed, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and despair.

"I haven't decided," Lucien repeated, returning his attention to his book as if it were a lifeline keeping him grounded.

"Even after how you looked at me after you spent the entire night with her?"

Lucien's fists clenched, and he fought to rein in his temper, his words delivered with a bitterness that mirrored the torment within his heart. "He's waiting for you."

"Answer me," Elain demanded, her voice shaking with a desperation she couldn't conceal.

Finally, Lucien got out of bed, and she gasped, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise as she realized he was completely unclothed. He watched her struggle with her emotions, her eyes darting between his face and his bare form, before she squared her shoulders and looked back up at him, her gaze unwavering.

"The only reason why I would accept it is so that I will never have to look at you ever again," he found himself saying as he approached her, the words dripping with resentment and anguish.

Elain, to her credit, maintained unwavering eye contact with him, her chin lifted in defiance, urging him to continue, as if daring him to break her heart.

His gaze drifted to her lips, his eyebrows furrowing as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Forever, he thought, he wanted this forever. He longed for the taste of her lips, the depths of her eyes, the entirety of her being, all to be his for eternity.

"You don't mean that," Elain said quietly, her voice tinged with both sadness and hope.

"It's better than the alternative," Lucien replied with a heavy heart, his voice trembling with the pain of his confession. "I'd rather never see you again than to keep hoping you'll change your mind."

Then, an unexpected surge coursed through him, a thunderous thumping in his ears like a frightened, nervous heartbeat. He had long accepted his fate, the path of anguish and unrequited love, but this heartbeat wasn't his.

"Does that make you scared?" he ventured to ask, his voice almost a whisper. "That you'll never see me again?"

Elain's lip quivered, and she looked away, her own mask settling upon her face like a shield. Just as he had, she had mastered the art of hiding her true emotions, but the pain in her eyes remained.

"He's waiting for me," she finally stated before turning to leave the room, leaving Lucien to grapple with his conflicted heart and the haunting words that had hung heavily in the air.

[growingingreenwood]

Did Legolas and his friends disappear from home and sneak out into the forest to cause mischief for lengths of time as much as Thranduil did when he was younger and growing up? Your stories about Oropher trying to wrangle his escape artists son always make me laugh btw thanks for writing!

No they didn’t, nowhere even close. For several reasons. 

First and perhaps most importantly, the world that Legolas grew up in is very, very different from the world that Thranduil grew up in. Greenwood is much more dangerous than Doraith ever was, and Legolas and his friends all have the    T r a u m a    to prove it. 

“Sneaking out” the way that Thraduil did was unthinkable. That’s how people die. Quickly. Or even worse, very slowly. 

Thranduil used to vanish into a puff of smoke for all intents and purposes, Legolas (if he’s up to no good away from home) doesn't hide WHERE he is, he hides what he’s DOING there. People need to know where you are in case something goes wrong, nobody can help you if they don’t know where you are. 

Second, Thranduil learned from his fathers mistakes and whenever Legoals did want to go out into the forest, Thranduil made sure that it happened in a timely manner. With extremely armed escorts, of course. He worked very hard to not make the forest away from their mountain home a Tantalizing Forbidden Wonderland begging to be explored. There was no need for Legoals to sneak out, generally speaking, because his travel wasn’t hindered. And the escorts kept any mischief from happening. 

Third, Legolas and his friends….. Really are traumatized as all hell. The only reason they all met each other is because (with the exception of Farlen) everybody they knew and their entire families were violently killed on the same day. Several of them heard and saw parts or all of what happened to everybody else. When they were younger they didn't feel safe being too far away from their Designated Adults. 

Fourth and lastly,, they were all significantly more scared of the consequences Ferdan could come up with than Thranduil had EVER been about Orophers punishments. Some things are simply not worth it, and vanishing without a word is definitely one of them. 

Unfortunately, for the residents of Greenwoods mountain home, all that simply added up to meaning all of their chaotic mischievous energy was trapped within the safe borders of the mountain home and its immediate surroundings. For over a century. 

Thanks for reading and reaching out! Im glad you enjoy them, they're also pretty fun to write I wont lie.

[thebest-medicine]

Day 2: Accidental

Tickletober 2023 - Critical Role - Campaign 2 - lee!Essek

[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]

A/N: It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss. It was only a kiss. (Shadowidomauk but Caleb is out getting groceries or spell supplies ok.) [read on AO3]

Words: 661

—

From the floor, Essek makes his best attempt at a glower, his face fixed on Mollymauk, who sits above him, a few inches away, on the love seat. He tries his best to ignore the burning feeling rising in his cheeks as he takes in Molly’s absolutely devious grin.

They both stare, energy tense and prickling in the air, waiting for the other to make a move. 

Instead of attempting to dissuade him or plead, when Essek opens his mouth it is to start the incantation for Misty Step. Not the brightest move, but he was still yet unaware of just how good Molly was becoming at hindering a spellcaster in close range (thanks, Caleb).

“Well,” Mollymauk interrupts as he pounces off the love seat and onto the drow below. “This afternoon just became much more interesting.”

– 

A few minutes earlier, Essek had been thinking things would take a very different direction. He was laying against the love seat in the study he shared with Caleb beneath a very persuasive tiefling. The books the wizard had been studying lay strewn about on the nearby table. He had gotten less than an hour of studying in while Caleb was out before Molly traipsed into the study and demanded affection. He had asked Essek to read something to him on the chair, but that quickly devolved into him snuggling into the drow’s chest and starting to pepper kisses on his cheeks, taking his lips soon after. The book Essek brought over tumbled out of his hand as he readjusted to kiss him a bit deeper.

This was still rather new for Essek, Molly was quite a different type of partner than Caleb. They both shared a streak of mischief, though Molly was much more ornery about it. Mollymauk also showed his affection much more openly, and while Caleb pushed his mind, Molly pushed his… buttons. In the best of ways. Though it was sometimes not without inconvenience or embarrassment. Speaking of embarrassment… 

They made out for a few minutes before Mollymauk’s kisses began to trail off of his lips and catch the edge of his chin. Essek leaned his head back, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed. Molly kissed his way down Essek’s neck, nipping once or twice playfully. Essek was smiling, a pleasant squirm baring his neck further. Molly kissed just below his ear and Essek tensed up a bit, shaking it off when he pulled away.

Molly gave him a curious look, one that Essek barely registered, eyes trained on Molly’s lips, and leaned down and nipped at the side of his ear.

Essek let out a squeak, his whole body jumping with a flinch. 

Molly made a pleased sound and started to kiss and nibble the edge of his ear, from base to point. Essek screeched, hands coming up to push at Molly’s head and shoulders. “Wait- wait!” He laughed as his voice caught up to his brain. Molly blew slightly into his ear and Essek scrambled to the side, sliding out from underneath the tiefling and onto the floor, his cheeks bright. “Molly.”

– 

Essek would like to think he doesn’t shriek when Molly bounds after him, the attempt at Misty Step fizzling off his lips. Instead of somatics, his hands scramble to grab Molly’s arms. He rolls a bit, squirming to get out of the way. 

“Light above- you- you’ll kill me!” Essek cries out. He shuffles on the ground beneath Molly, wrists pinned near the sides of his head.

“Oh, I’ll do no such thing.” Molly pouts. He sounds so sweet, almost songlike as he continues. “So, tell me, are your ears the only place you’re ticklish?” 

“No!” Essek flushes more. “I-I mean, yes- I- I-” He feels giggles already starting to build up in his chest.

“Well which is it? No? Yes?” Mollymauk teases. 

Essek’s eyes meet his, frantic and bright. He shakes his head as he fights off a smile.

“Guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

[scribble-dribble-writes]

The merman, the soldier and me

---

Pairing: Namor x reader

Word Count: 1200

Content: confined space, making out, fake dating

Warnings: none

---

Just some idea that popped into my head late at night. I love the winter soldier too but was just craving a bit of angst hahaha

---

He took a hold of your hand, gently raised it to meet his lips, his eyes never leaving yours while you didn’t know what to do because all this was just a performance. It was. You were sure of it. His brown eyes bore into yours as though they were reading your thoughts. His lips warm on your skin. This was supposed to be a ruse. The moment breaks, he grins as though he had proven a point while your eyes scurried to find Bucky in the crowd around you.

The winter soldier looked, well he looked distant as usual but there was a flicker of jealousy in his eyes and that was all you wanted. You wanted to get a rise out of him having grown tired of chasing him about and getting him to open up so when this merman decided to join the avengers, it was easy to get him to play the part with you because you both hated each other to the point this appeal of a fake relationship suited both your needs. You could get back at Bucky while he… well what was he getting out of this, you still couldn’t remember or maybe he never gave a proper reason to agreeing to all this.

But now, there was a tension between the two of you, the air filled with unsaid things and it all had started to feel a little too real.

You pulled away your hand gracefully while the other members mumbled and laughed but Bucky had left already, turning your plan into an utter mess. It sparked a frustration within you, causing you to latch onto his arm and march off into the avenger quarters as the crowd whooped and cheered thinking you both were only seeking a more private area.

“In yakunaj”, he drawled as he let you lead him on. He could stop you if he wanted but he didn’t.

“What does that mean?”, you demanded and he grinned again, admiring the authority in your voice.

“My love.”, he said and you groaned.

“You can drop the act now.”, you hissed searching for a private spot to have a conversation but the whole area was teeming with new recruits.

“We both know just how much we love other.”, you said sarcastically when you found a supply closet.

“Madly and deeply?”, he asked slyly as he entered the tight space. You get in and shut the door behind you.

“This can’t go on.”, you cut straight to the point. Maybe it was time, his presence was beginning to creep under your skin, you had begun to like being around him.

“We’ve barely begun.”, he retorted to which you huffed. What more did he want to do? Kiss you like he needed the ocean in front of everyone?

You shook away that imagery because some part of your heart wanted it.

“I think it’s enough.”, you reiterated.

“He’s hardly reacted. Wouldn’t it be better if we got him to be a bit more miserable?”, he grinned and maybe this was what you both had in common. The mischief.

“What exactly do you get out of this?”, you narrow your eyes and lean forward. But he stayed put, not hindered by your forwardness.

“Why should he get all the attention?”, he cocked his eyebrow.

“Oh so that’s it. This is some kind of competition for you.”, you folded your arms resting on the wall behind you.

“Everything is, isn’t it?”, he questioned which seemed fair.

“And what do you aim to win?”, you ask tilting your chin forward but to this he grew quite.

“You…”, he leaned forward on his own terms and you had to agree, there was something magnetic about him.

“you do not need to know that.”, he said after a pause, his dark eyes drowning in yours.

“I… urgh I can’t stand you.”, you tapped his shoulder for his response. Everything was a struggle with him, he would not even answer your questions.

“Oh you think it has been a pleasant experience for me?”, he grew angry too.

“Why did I do this to myself?”, you cry to which he grumbled.

“I hate the very sight of you.”, he thundered.

You paused as the words settled in but his eyes widened at what he had said, while yours narrowed.

“I … I hate the sound of your wings.”, you retorted quickly in an attempt to hide the flicker of hurt you felt when he had said what he said. It shouldn’t have bothered you. Instead it did. So you continued.

“Or the way my name sounds on your lips.”, to which he got closer, his eyes like those of a shark reading your every move. It felt intoxicating to hold his gaze and attention.

“I hate your eyes that see me like no other.”, he said in a reserved manner as though these words he meant it with his whole heart. The king of an entire underwater civilization grew quite as he now slowly trailed his finger down your cheek and you felt your knees could give way any second. He softly took a strand of your hair to feel it between his fingers.

“Or that your hair in so dark that I want to be lost in it.”, he said, his gaze fixed on you as he watched you attempt to swallow only for your throat to run dry.

Words had come to a halt and now only the hands spoke. You pulled down on his beanie to cover the tip of his ears because many didn’t know of his existence yet and let your fingers trail down to feel the stubble on his jaw. While his finger fiddled with the end of the zipper to your overall. You sunk your fingers into his hair base of his neck to which the fire in his eyes grew and your mind had erased Bucky, it only wanted to dwell in Namor’s touch.

“What does he have to offer that I cannot give you?”, he questioned, his tone was sarcastic and jealous.

“Love”, you answered toying with the edge of his collar to which he scoffed which then turned into a dark chuckle.

“I’ve been yearning for you like my body longs for the waters of the ocean.”, he whispered, his mere breath on your skin felt like the ocean current pulling you in.

“So show me.”, your eyes found his.

“Show me how your love feels like.”, you pull him close.

“What of the winter soldier?”, he grinned as he pulled down the zipper slowly, exposing your neck and then your collarbone.

“He doesn't seem to mind my existence and I've grown rather tired of his indifference.”, you respond

But the moment you finished your sentence he pulled down the zipper, his hands found the curve of your waist, his soft fingers traversed your skin while his lips had enough area to cover from your neck to your lips and all you could do was not resist this, this pull towards him, this connection that called your soul to his. There was a gentle authority in his touch, that holding you in his arms was a sacred practice. That he was designed to hold you and love you with reverence and having now tasted a love like this. As strong as the sea, as wild as the breeze but as certain as the sun.

How then can you seek out a winter you knew nothing off?

[sea-salted-wolverine]

signing up for my PFD which is somehow not UBI despite the fact that it is an annual dividend payed out to the citizens of alaska for the sole virtue of living in alaska and im checking the box that says i have not been convicted of a "crime of moral turpitude" because if i want my PFD i also have to register to vote and the application just does it for me in one quick and painless process that takes maybe a grand total of 3 minutes. that's good for voting right, yea? making voter registration easy? slapping a $1000 incentive on there?

and then i look up what is considered a "crime of moral turpitude" which would void my voter registration. Handily provided by the great state off alaska AS 15.80.010

“felony involving moral turpitude” includes those crimes that are immoral or wrong in themselves such as murder, manslaughter, assault, sexual assault, sexual abuse of a minor, unlawful exploitation of a minor, robbery, extortion, coercion, kidnapping, incest, arson, burglary, theft, forgery, criminal possession of a forgery device, offering a false instrument for recording, scheme to defraud, falsifying business records, commercial bribe receiving, commercial bribery, bribery, receiving a bribe, perjury, perjury by inconsistent statements, endangering the welfare of a minor, escape, promoting contraband, interference with official proceedings, receiving a bribe by a witness or a juror, jury tampering, misconduct by a juror, tampering with physical evidence, hindering prosecution, terroristic threatening, riot, criminal possession of explosives, unlawful furnishing of explosives, sex trafficking, criminal mischief, misconduct involving a controlled substance or an imitation controlled substance, permitting an escape, promoting gambling, possession of gambling records, distribution of child pornography, and possession of child pornography;

huh. well. I'm sure none of those could be selectively enforced against a specific group, thereby leading to targeted voter suppression.

[joleyssims]

You did it! You broke legacy challenges down to their bare essentials!

At the end of the day, when we create characters, we incorporate character archetypes and tropes into our stories, our legacies, anything with character creation. So, this legacy is created to highlight the things we love about playing with the pixel people in our computers. Cheats are discouraged but what am I, a cop? Just have fun!

Generation 1: The Creator

You are a motivated visionary. There could be nothing but open space around you, not a thing to your name, but that will not hinder you. You are here to lay the groundwork for your legacy. But what you possess in creativity and ambition, you lack in self-awareness and practicality. So, how will you curate your narrative?

Traits: Creative, Self-Assured, Self-Absorbed 

Objectives:

Start on an empty 64x64 lot and set your simoleons to $100. Only make money from what you create or forage until you’ve earned $10000.

Master three creative skills (painting, instruments, etc)

Never reach above level three in practical skills (handiness, logic, etc)

Develop and conquer the Fear of Failure 

Generation 2: The Lover

Growing up, you were surrounded by the arts, seeing the love and passion poured into your parent’s work. This has led to you being warm and loving, a true romantic guided by your heart. When you fall, you fall hard, and nothing will stand in the way of your happy ending. But there may come a time where you need to take off your rose-colored glasses and see the danger in wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Traits: Romantic, Loyal, Jealous

Objectives: 

Develop a ‘soulmate’ relationship with someone and be left at the altar by them

Complete the Soulmate Aspiration and max the Charisma skill

Once you remarry, always maintain a high friendship and romance bar

Successfully plead with the Grim Reaper to spare your spouse or bring them back to life

Generation 3: The Hero

While you deeply admire the love your parents share, you’ve found yourself a bit neglected with them being the center of each other’s worlds. You have the desire to prove yourself worthy of not only your parents’ love, but the love and admiration of society. But the desire to help others and ability to save the day can only fulfill you so much. 

Traits: Good, Overachiever, Perfectionist

Objectives:

Successfully put out ten fires

Have three near-death experiences and conquer the Fear of Death

Achieve a Pristine reputation and earn all of the ‘good’ Celebrity Perks

Reach the top level of the Doctor career

Generation 4: The Magician

While the admiration and job satisfaction were your parent’s favorite part of the job, it was the power and knowledge they had access to that piqued your interest. There’s so much of the world that no one in your family has ever bothered to seek out. It’s left to you to harness the ways of the universe to achieve your goals. 

Traits: Ambitious, Materialistic, Loner

Objectives:

Be born a human and transform into either a vampire or spellcaster

Vampire: max the Vampire Lore skill and become a grand master vampire/Spellcaster: learn every spell and become a virtuoso

Complete the Spellcraft & Sorcery and/or the Master Vampire aspiration 

Mentor your child(ren) in your mastered skills

Generation 5: The Outlaw

Growing up, you were taught that knowledge is power. You come to realize on your own, however, that said power can be used for good or evil. You don’t consider yourself evil, though – no, you’re a rebel without a cause that answers to no one. Will you be an antihero or end up the villain those around you expect you to be?

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Mean, Hot-Headed

Objectives:

Drop out of high school or university and reach the top of the Astronaut career in the International Smuggler branch

Master the Mischief skill and marry your partner in crime

Steal $1000 worth of objects without being caught 

Have and maintain a bad reputation

Generation 6: The Explorer

Your parent was all about rebelling against society and carving out their own path. While you understand them, you don’t feel the same pull towards their chaotic neutral mindset. You are driven to push the boundaries of the status quo and explore the unknown. There’s so much to do and see, what’s the point of not finding out for yourself?

Traits: Adventurous, Active, Loves the Outdoors

Objectives:

Live in at least three different worlds after graduating high school/university

Master the Archaeology and Selvadoradian Culture skills

Reach the temple in El Selvadorada and complete any of the collections

Complete the Extreme Sports Enthusiast and Jungle Explorer aspirations 

Generation 7: The Sage

Your parent’s myriad of adventures and discoveries have left you with a wealth of knowledge to explore. You become a wise figure that your friends and family turn to for knowledge and answers. As much as you enjoy being seen as the one with all the expertise, it places a burden of reputation on your shoulders. It leaves you wondering what the best way to channel your intellect is. 

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Gloomy

Objectives:

Complete the Academic and Renaissance Sim aspirations 

Write the Book of Life

Contribute knowledge to the research machine ten times 

Have multiple children and tutor them until they maintain straight A’s in elementary and high school

Generation 8: The Caregiver

Your parent did everything to make sure you were academically successful and ready to take on the world. But at times you lacked the love and nurturing needed to feel emotionally supported. Your goal now is to make sure your children never lack warmth and affection. While your selflessness is beloved and admired, you’ll have to remember not to sacrifice yourself in the process. 

Traits: Family Oriented, Childish, Neat

Objectives: 

Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration

Have at least three children and be good friends with all of them 

Only pick a career you can work from home. If there aren’t any, be a homemaker

Master the Parenting and Cooking skills

Generation 9: The Jester

You grew up in a comfortable family life that allowed you to develop your own personality and interests. As it turns out,you’re the jokester of the family, the life of the party. You always have a witty remark or the right joke to lift someone’s spirits. But people shouldn’t underestimate your goofy personality, sometimes you’re there to lay out the hard truths. 

Traits: Goofball, Outgoing, Party Animal 

Objectives:

Master the Comedy, Mischief, and Charisma skills

Complete the Joke Star aspiration

Reach level ten of the Comedy career 

Do not develop a negative relationship with any other sim

Generation 10: The Everyman

As the last generation in your legacy, you represent the most relatable, understandable type. You are the Everyman, someone everyone can connect to, recognize from daily life. Your dreams aren’t grandiose, your goals not unrealistic. At the end of the day, you are all of us, and maybe that makes you the most important one of all. 

Traits: Bro, Geek, Foodie 

Objectives:

Enter the Salaryperson career and never change careers

Marry your high school sweetheart and have two kids and a dog

Have and maintain two best friend relationships 

Complete only one aspiration and master no more than three skills

[hrefna-the-raven]

Chasing butterflies

Masterlist - Loki masterlist

Words: 802

Notes: after reading the alligator Loki comics, I just had to write a little drabble with him, he's just too adorable 😍

Image source:

As you strolled through the vibrant gardens, the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere. The sun's warm rays gently caressed your skin, and all seemed calm and peaceful. But little did you know that your peaceful walk was about to be interrupted.

A flicker of movement caught your eye and you found yourself drawn towards it, a peculiar green portal opening before you. Intrigued and filled with a sense of adventure, you cautiously approached it. As you peered into the portal's depths, your eyes widened with surprise. Emerging from the other side was none other than an alligator. But this wasn't just any ordinary alligator; it wore a golden horned helmet atop its head. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the sight before you.

"Are you," you mused aloud, sitting on the ground in front of the reptile, "a Loki?"

The alligator responded with a grumbling sound, as if acknowledging your question. It nudged its head against your outstretched hand, seeking affection. With a gentle touch, you stroked its rough scales, weighing the chances of this either being your Loki in disguise or another one from another universe. After all, he was able to visit other worlds so why wouldn't it be possible for another him to visit you?

Unbeknownst to you, this peculiar alligator was indeed Loki, but this was his true form, this god was confined to the body of an alligator, though his mischievous spirit remained the same. Intrigued by his playful nature, you couldn't help but be drawn to his magnetic charm. His glossy green scales shimmered under the sun and his toothy grin hinted at an intelligence that belied his reptilian form.

Curiosity piqued, you spent your afternoon observing alligator Loki's antics. You watched in awe and giggled as he attempted to chase butterflies, his agile tail swishing through the air as he darted after the fleeting insects. After getting bored of the chase, he would hide behind the bushes, patiently waiting for unsuspecting servants to pass by. With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he would leap out, startling them with playful growls that left bewildered and little scared. Whenever you laughed at the mischief he was causing, he would gently nudge you and let out a contented hiss.

Despite his nature, Loki's heart overflowed with affection and a desire for friendship, he just wanted to get away from Thor for some time and he couldn't have had more luck, finding you. Your kindness and sweet giggles filled him immense joy and you treated him as an individual rather than an exotic pet. However, Loki was well aware that he couldn't elude his responsibilities indefinitely. As he curled up on your lap, reveling in the gentle strokes of your fingers on his belly, a portal materialised and Thor emerged. His concerned expression swiftly transformed into relief at the sight of Loki nestled comfortably on your lap.

"There you are!", Thor exclaimed, "I've been searching high and low for you!"

The alligator hesitantly opened one eye, observing the thunder god before he huffed, turning his head towards you again. You weren't sure what to think of this but decided to let this play out before intervening.

"Please come back home with me", Thor begged, "I even brought your favourite toy."

He revealed a plush hammer that resembled Mjölnir. He squeezed it, producing a high-pitched squeak that immediately caught Loki's attention. His head turned, eyes widening as they fixated on the plush hammer. It was clear that Loki not only desired the hammer but also longed to return to Thor, hindered only by his pride. You couldn't help but chuckle at the resemblance to your Loki's personality. Setting the alligator down, you gently nudged him towards Thor.

"Go home, little friend", you smiled, nodding reassuringly, "you can visit me anytime if you want to."

Loki hissed in agreement and nodded before trotting towards Thor. He swiftly snatched the toy from Thor's hand and began to chew on it, filling the garden with squeaky noises. Thor scooped up the alligator, expressing his gratitude to you, and disappeared through the portal just before it vanished.

You let out a content, yet sad, sight as you got up and made your way back to the palace. Upon reaching the doors, your beloved Loki stood there waiting for you. His hands gently cradled your face as he planted a tender kiss on your lips, his gaze searching for any signs of how your afternoon had been.

"Did you enjoy your time in the gardens while I was away?"

"Yes, my beloved", you replied, entwining your fingers with his and strolling through the corridors together.

"Did you have fun?"

"Oh plenty", you chuckled, walking alongside a oblivious Loki as you headed towards the dining hall.

[thefifthsister]

Castlemas ‘22 #20: Different View

Post Series

They’re full of laughter, mischief and delight.

She’d helped Lily roll the head, had watched Castle, Reece and Jake roll another ball for the tummy but ultimately had been more of a hinderance to their father with eager hands and short attention spans. They kept stopping to pick up handfuls of snow, throwing them at each other and occasionally their parents and sister and running away giggling.

It had taken a while and some great strength from both Kate and Castle to get Lily’s idea in place but somehow they’d managed it. The boys had great fun collecting stones and sticks. Lily searched the cabin for something for their snowman to wear.

They stood back, admired their handiwork.

“I love it!” Lily squealed, clapping her hands and jumping with excitement. “He’s the coolest.”

Kate shared a look with her husband, noticing the smirk on his face at their little girl’s pun.

“Photo time,” he announced. They watched as the kids clamour to pose next to their snowman. Lily bending upside down, attempting a handstand and the twins copying her every move meant they were covered head to toe in snow but the laughter was worth it.