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#i am a crow who likes shiny things
kyndaris · 1 year
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Backlog Catch-Up
With all the new releases coming out in 2023, I am reminded once again of the limited time I have as someone that must work for a living. Coupled with the fact that I’m out socialising more and exploring the world when I use my leave, what little free time I have must be used in the most efficient way possible spread out thinly across video games, writing, reading and keeping up with shows and movies.
As of the writing of this post, I’m in the fourth chapter of Tactics Ogre Reborn, mopping up most of the side quests and unlocking new characters and classes before the final battle. But the temptation is there to put Tactics Ogre Reborn down and play through The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom instead since it’s new and shiny and everyone who is anyone is hyped for the new Zelda entry.
I even saw someone play on the commute to work!
While that something most gamers will do, hopping from one game to another, I’ve always found that the best way for me to tackle the glut of video games that catch my eye is to finish them off one by one before moving on. Otherwise, I’d have far too many incomplete games and not enough storage space on my consoles for anything more. A terrible dilemma given the size of games nowadays.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as everyone else is raving about the latest games that they’ve got their hands on.
Of course, even if I were to finish the game I was currently playing at the time, it doesn’t always mean I’ll play the latest and greatest title. The game I start could be part of my backlog or a fairly new and flashy game. And though it shouldn’t matter if that title is the one in the current zeitgeist or if it was something that came out years ago, I know in my heart of hearts, I should only be playing what’s new. If only to keep up with the discourse.
Still, the FOMO that I feel is a reminder that I can still engage in the content, though I may not have the entire experience. After all, I’m not one that shies away from a few spoilers. In fact, I relish them. 
But I’ve found that when it comes to my gaming habits, and even on dates when I chat to others, it’s always been a struggle for me to be open about my favourite games. While some hyperfixate on a title, I tend to enjoy the stories for what they are without diving too deep. Some of that could be from the fact that I’ve managed to glean all that I can from unofficial wikis. Other times, I’ve simply not felt the need to obsess over every small detail in the game.
Still, I have to wonder if some of that comes from my childhood. Growing up, there weren’t many people around me that played video games. Even if they did, they were older than me and didn’t want to entertain the curious preteen. In high school, there was still the perception that games were played by boys and what was a nice girl like me doing spending so much time in front of the computer screen?
Even now, I don’t talk about games with my work friends or those that don’t really play anything more than cosy games like Animal Crossing. Sure, I now know of people that play the big releases and that’s something we can talk about briefly but those titles serve as conversation starters. Water cooler conversations, if you will, because neither of us know how far the other has gotten and don’t want to ruin the experience.
If I wanted a hot take about a game, I turn to the internet. One glance at YouTube and you can see why. I couldn’t tell you the number of videos I’ve seen reviewing game titles, assessing games and what they bring to each individual or just having an opinion about something controversial. You name, there’s a podcast. And if you engage with those creators, form a parasocial relationship, you’ve essentially found ‘your people.’
So, maybe it’s fine for me to take my time instead of racing through. Even though popular discourse seems to favour remaining relevant when posting reviews or impressions on the internet. Something that I’ve done with my games.
The same, however, cannot be said of books. Perhaps because I’m not on BookTok or on BookTube. Even if I were, there’s no real rush to be on top of the latest releases unless it’s YA. And given my favourite genre and my minimum page count being 500 pages or more, I’ve never felt compelled to quickly finish a book just to get to a new one. In fact, the more time I can spend with a book, the better. The atmosphere, the worldbuilding, the characters...these are all important aspects to me and there have been times when a book reaches the end that I wish the author had simply written more about their characters.
I very much like exploring someone else’s head and seeing their interactions in the quiet moments.
That’s probably why I insert so much of it in my own writing. I like to get to know a person inside and out.
Beyond the occasional YA novels, though, you won’t find whole wikis filled with the history of characters or their backstory. Books are a completely different medium and their fans interact differently with the source material. While yes, you will get the occasional fan art, it’s only recently that I’ve seen Rhysand and Feyre fan art being sold at conventions. I might have shuddered, but given that there’s no movie or TV show of Sarah J Maas’s work, it’s very impressive that there is actual fan art that exists for a wholly book series.
Books, more than games, have always been something I’ve been passionate about. And while there are books that I will put down something else to read if the chance arose, I don’t feel the immediate FOMO that one might have if a new game comes out. Yes, there’s hype but I never feel like I’m missing out on the conversation.
Maybe, of course, there’s the fact that reading is a much more passive experience than gaming. True, tehre are people out there that will immediately buy a book as soon as it releases and finish it within a day but even with BookTok and BookTube becoming increasingly prevalent, public discourse doesn’t have such a huge emphasis on new book releases. At least, not on the scale of video games or films/ TV shows. For example, Sarah J Maas became increasingly popular with the advent of TikTok but back when I was still reading the first few books of the Throne of Glass series back in 2015, there was no-one I knew within my immediate circle that had read the books.It’s only been in recent years that I’ve seen people fall in love with the world of A Court of Thorns and Roses and jump on the fae bandwagon.
And don’t get me started on Robin Hobb!
Too bad, of course, that no-one has truly been trying to promote the intricate worlds of M.A. Carrick in the Rook and the Rose series. Or have started reading the Black Magician trilogy by Australian author, Trudi Canavan. Honestly, those worlds have been some of the BEST I’ve ventured into.
Then again, much like games, I don’t talk about books very much to my friends. Mostly because it’s hard to find someone that has read the same type of genre that I do. Even if we DO read the same genre, we may not have read the same books. Have you SEEN how many books are churned out each year? Something, of course, I want for myself but I’m sure if I am ever published, I’ll just be one of the dime a dozen authors that disappear once more into the woodwork. It takes talent and grit and a fair bit of luck to become the next Sanderson or Rowling or Martin.
Still, now that I’ve joined a book club at work, I’ve been able to talk about books freely with people that have, at the very least, read the same book that I have for the month. No longer do I have to spy on people on the train and muster up the courage to chat to them about the latest Stormlight Archive book that they’re reading (which I’ve finished) and nerd out over Kaladin and lashings and the Cosmere.
And while the genres may not always be the ones that I enjoy the most, I do like discussing the book of the month with those in the office. There’s something special about going into deep dives about the book we’ve all just read as we go on about themes or elements that particularly stood out. 
Even if I secretly hope to steer them towards the more magical side of fantasy given enough time. 
But that’s a thought! We have book clubs. Why not game clubs? I know that video games are social mediums by their very nature, but I’d like a proper sit-down and in-depth chat about a game’s story with my fellow gamers as we talk about things that we liked or didn’t like, the mechanics that worked and didn’t work and how the ambiance fed into the game world to make it the unique experience it was for each person.
I don’t want someone to talk at me about a game. I get enough of that on the internet as people try to extol the virtues of whichever game has become their whole personality, nor do I want to have to sit through a one-sided discussion during a date. Given that games are a valid medium of art, we can start treating them as such.
But maybe instead of viewing games and books and whatever else that’s inbetween, I should simply just enjoy what I have for the time being and worry less about trying to keep up with whatever is popular. I’m not, after all, a gaming journalist. There’s no money to be made in my blogs. I write about what I like, I read what I like, and I play whatever takes my fancy. Games come and go. And since I’ve purchased them and they’re sitting pretty on my shelf, it’s all just now a simple matter of picking them up, dusting them off and slipping the disc into the console. 
Speaking of which, I need to ALSO finish of Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky SC and the third title before tackling the Crossbell arc of games. Eugh! 
So much to do, so little time!
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maimedaffair · 6 months
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god i'm easy. have pretty graphics & i just assume ur elite. teach me y'all's ways.
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velvetwarfare · 5 months
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because I’m insane I got a bunch of last minute shit to feel better about myself in the fizz cosplay cause I still hate that I have to wear my glasses
uhhh squeaky nose test it has a string that goes around your head but that’s ugly so I’m gonna try to spirit gum that shit to my nose instead and cut the string off. face gems cause pretty and one of my fave fizz cosplayers does that too. gonna try traditional diamond eye jester makeup to spruce it up a bit but still keep the circles on his cheeks too. add bells to the end of the jester cap as well. I’m also gonna try this is a big try because I give up so easily when it comes to drawing to draw blitzo not to get it autographed but just to give it to him as a gift with a lil letter attached to it cause I love spoiling people I love thanks
yeehaw I have dnd the night before and I gotta be at the con early Saturday for a panel we wanna see so I’ll probably get 5 hours of sleep max LMAOOOO
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sillygoofyqueer · 1 month
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Bing-ge getting super sparkly/shiny jewelry with magical abilities and the wives are like “Ooh, could this be for me?” only, nah. It’s actually to lure in his future husband. Go away. XD
Ahhh! Shen Yuan making a safe haven for crows is a wonderful idea! Demonic crows or yao, whether they’ve cultivated human form or not, are all welcome! Regular crows too!
Since I love teacher Shen Yuan, of course he teaches all the younger ones too. Just because they spend half their time as birds doesn’t mean they can’t get an education!
The human half of his family are probably from some tiny village who gave offerings to the local crow demons and unintentionally became friends (crows being protective of their people and all). Their village is startlingly safe thanks to crows mobbing anyone who dares try to mess with them! There might be other half-crow kiddos running around too, thanks to the good relations. Shen Yuan tutors the village kids too of course!
(Tiny bit of angst, but Bing-ge burns with envy if he finds out! This half-demon friendly town was here the whole time?!)
This is adorable, Shen Yuan seeing these young children and just being like "...students." Sometimes, if the human children are extra lucky, he'll take them on flights as long as they have 'necessary payment' (usually a cool looking rock and proof that they've done their chores). It's impossible to find Shen Yuan without at least one crow perched on his shoulder or in his hair, unless he's going on - what the others describe as - dangerous escapades to nab cool stuff from Bing-ge's palace, in which he will know and stop anyone who tries to follow him because he's a dumbass with no self-preservation skills, not them! It takes him a startlingly long time to figure out that Bing-ge is leaving things for him on purpose, and he is undeniably shocked when he finds out. He eventually finally takes it as a form of courtship due to other demons' and humans' instance that it probably is. After doing research on crows courting one another, did you know that the males feed the females?? And sing to them?? SO, I immediately thought of the idea of Shen Yuan trying to reciprocate the courting (because he would never be so silly as to reject the emperor, no one in their right mind would) by randomly appearing in Bing-ge's room (much to Bing-ge's delight and confusion) and singing sweetly before feeding a willing emperor apple slices or some shit until Bing-ge reciprocates and feeds him in response and Shen Yuan just pauses and goes "hang on, am I the wife?" and immediately takes to the role without any thought. ("Why would Bing-ge be the wife, how foolish of me!") When Bing-ge finds out about the village that accepts half demons, of course he's a little upset! Why couldn't he have this sort of comfort and love in his life? Why did he have to suffer all this time?? Then he goes to this village so that Shen Yuan can show off his nest to the emperor (sign of trust?) and is immediately hit with the "I want to be here forever" train.
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Also, the more you think about it, the funnier it gets actually lmao. He just shows up with these gorgeous trinkets and jewellery and sometimes even clothes (shiny embroidery of course), and they vanish and the wives are all like "where the actual hell are they going? Who do we even complain about??" and it could be like a background thing where the wives all get jealous of each other when there's actually just this bird guy who comes over quite often and started by stealing shit while dropping off helpful things. Imagine how strange that must be for the wives. "Ugh, [wife's name here] is taking all the attention away from us!!", "Really? I thought it was [other wife's name]." Meanwhile, there's just one wife (Liu Mingyuan most likely) who just knows and she doesn't tell anyone, content to watch as chaos ensues while the bird man and Luo Bing-ge fall deeper in love with one another, and the gifts get more elaborate each time. {part three! Part one, part two, part four, part five, part six, part seven!!}
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Okay but given that crows are ready to Throw Down with eagles at the slightest opportunity, I have to know- 1) are there crows in the Seireitei and 2) how much of their Daily Enrichment is causing problems for the 11th Division on purpose?
There absolutely are crows and jays and even ravens in the Seireitei and very nearly all of their daily enrichment is causing some level of mayhem at every division of the Gotei-13,
...except the 11th.
See, Zaraki has the distinct advantage over most eagles in that he is also a human, with a canny eye for social dynamics, and he's worked out a deal with the local corvids. He noticed the pair of ravens on the roof of the 11th the first afternoon he was there, made a note of them, carefully folded it up, and put it in his mental back pocket for later.
The ravens didn't actually notice him that much on the first day because there was an entire bisected corpse of the former Kenpachi and the medics were delayed in retrieving it for some reason so that meant lungs and liver and a spleen and gallbladder and a special course of freshly exposed brains before an eyeball each for dessert while some poor wretch from the 4th completely failed to chase them off with a broom. They did very much notice him in the middle of the afternoon on the second day, when he returned from the early morning captain's meeting they had slept through, on account of yesterday's food coma. -But even still sluggish with guts full of guts, they still sat up and took notice of a man wearing, loud, shiny and extremely steal-able BELLS.
A-ho, A-ho! Called the first raven from the middle boughs of the pine in the courtyard as the new Kenpachi sat down on the porch that surrounded the small and rather pathetic little garden, sighing deeply. What's this that jingle-jangles in like a jester and sighs and settles like a corpse at the bottom of a lake?
A great way for your mate to lose her beak if she gets any closer. He growled back, and the raven on the roof behind him startled, flapping away out of his blade's reach.
A-joke! A-joke! Don't hiss and rattle so! She huffed, joining her wife on the pine and ruffling her feathers.
It might be amusing sport on another day, but I have no humor to speak of. He clattered, turning his patch-covered eye to them in apology. I have suffered a bereavement.
A-no! A-no! Who is it who has died? Asked the first raven.
One who granted me the knowledge of letters, and further so, the wisdom of tales- in telling, and moreso in listening. Thrice blessed by her I was, and only now do I learn of her demise, fifty years too late. He explained, rubbing his temples and shaking his head, trying to soothe himself.
A-woe! A-woe! cooed the second raven in agreement. Any who teaches is a living saint, and their passing the most terrible loss.
A-woe, A-woe! the first raven cooed in sympathy. She didn't leave clutch or wife for you to look after?
She had a husband, but I do not know his name, and he is apparently deceased as well. The Kenpachi frowned. Her brother yet lives- he is my colleague even, and how I learned of this. A wretched way to meet someone she spoke so highly of- but you are right, he needs looking after. He is... unwell, and was never thriving to begin with, but the same sort of saint of words as she, and much braver than his body should allow. Of course, I will look after him for her, as is right.
A-woe, A-woe- A wretched meeting but the right and honorable thing to do. Nodded the second raven.
A-woe, A-woe, but this is not the source of your miserable sighing? asked the first. No, his care does not worry me- The Kenpachi shook his head, folding a leg up and resting his elbow on it and his cheek on his hand in turn. It's that I am left to wonder- If I had known sooner, or even before this catastrophe, if there was something I might have done. But you are interesting company so I will divert myself from useless morose- what do you call yourselves, carrion queens that live beneath my roof?
I am Mun-Yin! Declared the second raven, that spoke only in statements.
If she is Mun-Yin, might I then be Hau-Yin? Asked the first, who spoke only in questions.
You might. The Kenpachi nodded.
A-so? A-so? Who might you be that wears the shredded rags of a dead man like a pauper, but speaks with the grace of a prince? Hau-Yin asked, hopping from the pine to a closer boulder, cocking her head at him.
A-ho! A-ho! It may be your house that supports our nest, but we live above your roof, not under it! Mun-Yin laughed, hopping closer as well.
I am Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of the 11th division! He smirked at the birds who rolled their eyes at him.
A-no! A-no! Pouted Mun-Yin We didn't ask for your NAME!
A-no! A-no! Sulked Hau-Yin Who ARE you?
The Kenpachi regarded them for a moment, then lifted his head from his hand and leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin on his face. Would you like to know a secret?
A-yo! A-yo! We love a secret! Said Mun-Yin, bouncing in excitement.
A-yo! A-yo! Do we not spend all day learning all the secrets of the city? Giggled Hau-Yin.
Then I will offer you a trade- The Kenpachi grinned, beckoning then closer. -I'll tell you who I am if you promise to leave my hair-bells alone.
Hmmm... the ravens considered, then shook their heads.
A-low, A-low, those are some very shiny jingle-jangle bells, and that's but one measly little secret. frowned Mun-Yin
A-low, A-low- Agreed Hau-Yin. That's not much of a trade is it?
On the contrary, it's a very good secret! Maybe the best secret in all of the Seireitei! The Kenpachi wagged his finger at them. Nobody knows it but me and my daughter, so it's very exclusive! And the risk is all on my end- some secrets are dangerous to know, but in this case, it would grant you great advantage- it would be DEEPLY embarrassing for me if any of the humans -and whatever Komamura is- were to find out.
Hmmm... the birds considered again, and nodded this time.
A-Quo! A-Quo! Very Exclusive and Deeply Embarrassing Secrets are The Best! We will take very good trade! Agreed Mun-Yin
A-Show! A-Show! Who are you, that we will leave your bells alone? asked Hau-Yin, hopping closer and bowing her head, looking up at him with a mischievously glittering eye.
I am Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of The Eleventh Division, Father of Yachiru, Great Sword Bastard of the North 80th District, and most relevant to you- Youngest and Most Beloved Son of She Who Rules The Sky.
The ravens stared blankly at him for a moment.
What that fuck? Asked Hau-Yin.
Didn't realize we were speaking to ROYALTY. Muttered Mun-Yin
See? It's a VERY good secret! The Prince Kenpachi grinned, leaning back and lounging a bit- someone like him could make even a bare wooden porch look like a throne. -Also, you see how you DO SO live under my roof! He added, pointing up at the clouds.
The ravens shuffled a bit nervously, reconsidering him.
A-so? A-so? Hau-Yin asked, cautiously, shuffling a sideways to him.-How does Your Highness come to be a Shinigami then?
A-so! A-so! nodded Mun-Yin. Your Highness and We alike are strange enough birds for taking Names, but to take a JOB is unheard of!
It has it's benefits... The Prince Kenpachi shrugged. Alas, I may be Her Majesty's Son, but I did not inherit my mother's wings and guts, so I cannot live on the wind and whatever I might find by the roadside alone. Still- like a Name, a Job both restricts and offers opportunity- I am bound by duty, but I also am gifted a dry and sturdy nest and all the meat I may eat in exchange. And better still- My daughter now has her choice of tutors and scholars to learn greater Wisdom than I ever will.
A-sow! A-sow! Mun-Yin considered. You do reap well in that exchange!
A-though, A-though- considered Hau-Yin. Would you have the chance to reap in such fashion had you the wings of your mother? Are you perhaps Blessed in strange Human fashion?
The Prince Kenpachi laughed. Perhaps I am! Perhaps you may be even more blessed than I- you have wings and carrion-guts, but you are not bereft! I can offer you similar employment, if you should find it agreeable.
A-ho! A-ho! You are in a fine humor now, My Prince! Chirped Mun-Yin.
A-ho! A-ho! What is this Job you have in mind for the like of us? Asked Hau-Yin, intrigued.
I am in much better humor now, thanks to you both. The Prince agreed, offering Hau-Yin an outstretched hand and patting his knee to indicate Mun-Yin should join him too. There is naught you may do against death, but you may yet ease my bereavement- I am am saddened by the loss of my friend, but it's the lateness of the news that worries me. You say you spend all day learning the secrets of the Seireitei, and that you greatly desire Shiny Jingle-jangle bells?
A-so! A-so! Mun-Yin bobbed excitedly, hopping onto The Prince's hand. All over, all over from the high pillars of the execution grounds to the lowest grates where the sewers open up, we fly all over all over My Wife and I! And we see and we hear and we remember all the secrets of the city!
A-stow? A-Stow? You poses yet more shiny shiny bells? Hau-Yin clicked with interest, hopping onto his knee.
I happen to have two such golden bells, even bigger and louder than these, and will happily give them to you- with a Doll's shiny ribbon so you may wear them if you so desire- and other shiny and noisy things as I find them, if you tell to me all the secrets of the Seireitei.
Hmmm... the ravens considered.
A-yo, A-yo- It is a good deal. Nodded Mun-Yin. -But sometimes the winter is cold or the pickings are lean, and there is only so much comfort a shiny jingle-jangle brings when it is so.
A-yo, A-yo- Agreed Hau-Yin. Maybe sometimes a secret is worth a night out of the storm or a scrap of meat instead?
You are both very wise. The Prince Kenpachi nodded and the ravens preened with the praise. I am amenable- The ribbon-bells for all the secrets you know right now, and we can work out what payment is best in the future, when you discover more secrets for me?
A-Yo! A-Yo! crowed Mun-Yin, flapping with excitement. Your Highness is as generous as he is wise!
More, I hope! Laughed The Prince Kenpachi. I promise, I am a colossal fool!
A-Yo! A-Yo! crowed Hau-Yin What secrets would you like to know first? And may I have a Pink Ribbon?
I would like to know all you know about- hm, that's a tricky question actually.- There are so many things I wish to know! He considered, rubbing his chin, then jumped to his feet, making them hop, an Ancient Bird Game. Let me go get your ribbon-bells first, and make up my mind!
A-ho! A-ho! the Ravens laughed, hopping down the hall after him.
---
"Hey Boss, I found the payroll forms but fuck me if I can make heads or tails of- what's wrong?" Ikkaku called out as he came into the courtyard half an hour later, only to find Yumichika standing in the doorway, frowning pensively with his hand over his mouth.
"I'm not sure anything is wrong, per se-" Sighed Yumichika, waving at the scene before him.
Zaraki was seated on one of the boulders in the courtyard, delicately fastening one of Yachiru's shiny pink hair ribbons around the neck of an exceptionally smug-looking raven in an elaborate bow with a large golden bell in the middle. A similarly adorned Raven perched upon his shoulder, chattering excitedly between fondly preening where his eyepatch parted his hair.
"-but I can't help but think I've seen this scene before..." Yumichika muttered.
"They look like they're all having fun?" Ikkaku shrugged as Zaraki finished the bow and the raven ruffled her feathers into place, making it jangle and Yachiru giggle and applaud from where she sat on her father's knee. The Newly-belled raven hopped around to croak and click at him as well, flapping excitedly, and he put a hand up to stop her, asking her something in the shrill hiss and click of his native Aquiline tongue.
"You ever get the impression The Boss is way more articulate in Eagle than he is in Japanese?" Ikkaku frowned.
"Darling, he learned his Japanese from Bandits and Buskers and in Brothels, his Eagle has GOT to be better than that." Yumichika rolled his eyes.
"-ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Zaraki suddenly bellowed, shaking his finger at the raven in his lap.
Both ravens cawed in objection.
"-THIS IS NOT UP FOR NEGOTIATION! SO LONG AS YOU TWO LIVE UNDER MY ROOF, YOU LEAVE KANAME AND HIS EYEBALLS ALONE." he growled.
The Raven on his shoulder tipped her head, speculating.
"-He is TOO using them, they're there to keep his eye sockets and brain from getting infected with gods-know-what flesh-eating bacteria or whatever. NO. PECKING."
Both Ravens hunched up their wings and turned away, pouting.
"What's-His-Ass in the Fifth? The faintly greasy one that looks like a sad mop? His glasses are fair game, if it will amuse you." Zaraki relented, and both birds perked up. "-Might be worth a bag of potato chips if you can bring me a pair intact." he offered.
"Oh Gods, he's not gonna make me try to add a pair of BIRDS to the payroll, is he?" Whimpered Ikkaku.
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sparkle-fiend · 2 years
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Steve loves Valentine’s Day.
It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?
With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.
Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge. 
“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”
He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.
“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”
“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”
Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live). 
"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night." 
“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.) 
"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it." 
Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!" 
She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?" 
Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it. 
Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly. 
"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that. 
He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.
Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside. 
He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would. 
If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.
———
Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.) 
He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence. 
He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet. 
His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure). 
The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.
Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan. 
He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. 
He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day." 
Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead. 
"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least." 
Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again. 
"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps. 
"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.
They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette. 
"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.
Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool." 
Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”
Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”
———
Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve. 
“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.
“I got you something too,” he says.
“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”
Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.
His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.
But it’s also sparkly. 
Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.
“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)
“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.
“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.
———
After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner. 
He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).
Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin. 
"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot." 
(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)
"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping. 
"What's the model for?" Steve asks.
Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice. 
"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff." 
Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.
Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”
Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?" 
"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."
“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts. 
Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.
“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”
“What is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.
Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."
"So the keychain and the gear..."
"And the feather."
Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly. 
Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is. 
Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie." 
“Uh… sure.”
Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..." 
Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?" 
"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move." 
He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on. 
After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house. 
Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?” 
"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused. 
He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.
The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv. 
"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?" 
"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."
Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”
Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”
Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him. 
In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”
Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.
“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”
He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”
“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”
“Oh yeah?”
Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”
Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”
A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.
1K notes · View notes
thefandomdirtymind · 1 year
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Shiny offering
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OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Sanji Series - NSFW The small favor
A/N IMPORTANT: I am the little weirdo who's like crows and though that a pirate with a crow would be really cool. So, I'm really sorry if you're scare of bird, but I hope you will find the story funny because I have a lot of fun with it and my new obsession for this man.
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  
If you enjoy my story please let me know.
---
Sanji never had a particular interest in birds. At least not living ones. Once featherless, beheaded and ready to be cooked. He, of course, has a lot of thoughts and recipes about how to prepare them, each idea more delicious than the other. 
But, as the Crow expanded his wings and flew above him for the fifth time that day. He started to wonder if the black bird meat would taste more like chicken and then, be better in a rotisserie kind of dish, or would it be surprisingly more delicate, like the duck. 
A mystery he would probably never know even if he could. Or if he did, not with this precise bird. Because, even if the blond never had a thought about the feathered animal, he has a lot of interest in you and, as irritating as it is, your crow seems to dislike him as much as Zoro does. 
He didn’t attack him directly of course, you would never let this happen. 
Yet, if Sanji is too close to you when you're all on the deck or if you share a moment alone with the cook. The damn winged dinosaur never missed a beat stealing his, lite or not, cigarette that was in his hand or between his lips.
The bird has often even tried to take his ring, but, to this day, never succeeded. However his favorite target was his blonde hair. Golden straw that he could pick few at the time between his beck before flying away as quickly as he could. 
Everytime, as you tried without success to not laugh. Biting your lips in that charming way he liked so much. You assure him that Deimos didn’t really hate him, he was  just a little bit too protective or attracted to the shiny thing on his person. Like humans he needs time to adjust to new people. 
“ I understand Madam, but I don’t see stealing Zoro shinny earring neither and that be a show I would love to see “ He once replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone, massaging the sore spot on his head where Deimos had took three of his hair.
“Well, Zoro didn’t have hair similar to pretty rays of sunshine, that’s for sure and I honestly don’t know, they seem to already be best buddy that kinda funny “ You said, your gaze fixed on the strange duo that was Zoro and your pet, napping in a hammock between two Tangerine trees. 
“ That because they have something in common, they both hate me that’s why” 
“ You know, Crows love to collect things who shine and offer them to their partner or their favorite human. Once a crow trusts you, he or his children never forget you, they have a memory that they extend to their children for generations and they will always return to you. It’s amazing”  
“ Then Madam it seem that I will be hate for generation “       
It has been almost five months now that you were a member of the crew and the relentless animal didn’t stop. Although, Sanji couldn’t forget that conversation that you had about those damn birds offering shining things to the person they affectionate. The way you smiled, the gleam in your eyes as if you were sharing that fun fact like if it was a romantic story. Even if it was an anodin moment, he couldn’t forget how perfect you were. Relax, your arm crossed on the railing of the upper deck in the soft light of the morning. 
It wasn’t a secret that the blondie fell for you at the minute that he saw you. He had tried to flirt as much as he could, challenged your taste buds by making you his best dishes and even switched his generic “Madam” for a warmer nickname “ mon coeur”. A sweet name he uses, usually as often as he calls himself the Best Cook of the East blue. 
“ Mon coeur, do you want a kind of food in particular for supper ?” 
“ Be careful Mon coeur, the tea is hot” 
“ You see Mon coeur, one day I will see the All Blue and I will explore it with you ”  
But, nothing had seemed to enlighten your comprehension about his intention. Of course, a more direct approach would give him an immediate answer, still, like in his cooking, Sanji liked a more slow and progressive approche.
It was when thinking about his next move that the strange event occurred.
Busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for his famous beef stew, the man suddenly heard a metallic noise, like a utensil falling on the floor. As a chef, it wasn't uncommon, but since he was alone in the room and all his instruments were in front of him, it was indeed, really strange. It was only after his gaze had scanned the room that he finally saw it. 
Perched on the side of the table, under the open window, the dark bird, a spoon in his beck, was watching the floor where a solitary fork was laying.
“ Oh no sir, this place is my domain you will not ruin it, get out” He exclaimed, not without thinking of how ridiculous he must look, talking at this bird like if he was a rude client of the Baratie.
For answer, Deimos only croak once, jumps between two potatoes just in front of him, turns his onyx head on the side and then, under the blue glare of the men, drops the polished spoon. 
The eating tool in itself wasn’t really special, unless the fact that it had been lost two weeks ago, along the fallen fork of course.   
“ Oh so now you steal my utensil. My hair and my smoke wasn’t enough ?” Sanji sighs before reaching for the discarded silver instrument. 
For answer, the crow slowly approached his head to the metallic object and started to admire his own smaller reflection before taking his fly, exiting the kitchen.
Coming back after less than five minutes later, this time with a shimmering shell and one of Nami small hair clips. Same as the spoon, he gently drops them in front of the blonde man, tilling his head, like he is waiting for something.
Like said before, Sanji never had a soft spot for birds, but he had a fond memory of that conversation with you about the way they express their affection. So, little by little, as he watched one by one the glittery, polish, shimmery stuff your crow just bought him, two realizations struck him. First, the damn feathers dinosaur has finally taken a liking for him and second he finally knew how to show you how dear you are in his eyes. 
“ Well, I almost regret now that I imagine you many times in my oven. I admit that you don't seem that bad alive now…thank you” Sanji smiled, putting the stew on the stove, letting it cook and before starting collecting the item for his new plan.   
It was only a long time after dinner that he could put his said plan in action. With a little help from his now winged friend.
As the Going Merry was lazily crossing the water, Sanji was still again in the kitchen, preparing diverse elements. To citrus marinade for supper the next day, to dry leaf for future recipes.  
Nevertheless, he was ready when the flap of the wing followed by footsteps could be heard near his area.  
Deimos was the first to enter the kitchen, taking his now usual place in the left corner of the kitchen island, your bracelet still on his beck. Close by a few steps, you enter at his pursuit, stopping only when you seen the strange show that was the gorgeous chef ,slowly busy pressing a lemon and your large pet, sharing the same space without apparent bickering.
“ Hi Sanji, sorry to barge in there like that. Deimos feels apparently playful today, he stole my bracelet. But look at you both, you finally bound as I can see” You joyfully said, taking a seat in front of the kitchen island. 
“ Hello Mon coeur, well as you can see we came to an arrangement if I can call it that. " Sanji replied, pulling an almond from his pocket and giving it to the bird as he rescued your bracelet “ But I’m grateful that he bring you here now, I also had something for you, a special dessert”  
Turning his back from you for a minute, missing the long glance you give to his perfect ass in his tailored pants, you smile. You weren't stupid, in fact, you were particularly smart. Even if you didn’t understand why Usopp had taken a habit of joking about the fact that you seem blind to love. 
You had noticed the blonde chef the first day on this boat and since then, had developpe what Nami had called a “crush” on him. What’s not love about him ? You like the way he calls you Mon coeur making yours fluster, the way his smile reaches his eyes every time he talks about food and of course the fact that he was always so kind with you. But never you would push those thoughts on him, no, it seems that all his love was for food and as long as you live you will respect that.
The first thing you saw after the blondie had put the bowl in front of you was the beauty of the presentation. Served in a plain white bowl, a delicate pale lilac ice cream was piled, decorated with colorful berries that automatically make your mouth water.
However it wasn’t the berries who’s most caught your eyes. Coating there the side of a raspberry, there in a few pieces the side of the cold cream, there floating lazily like if it were on a river, small gold flakes was highlighting the sweet, giving it the allure of a masterpiece. 
“ Homemade lavender ice cream with berries assorted with flakes of edible gold “ Sanji proudly present, your favorite smile on his lips. “ I had the idea when we were talking about crows and their habit of giving their partner or…favorite person…shiny things” He lied. Never would he admit to you that your bird, trying to fancy him, gave him the idea.  Never on his chef corpse.
“ Sanji, that’s almost too beautiful to eat. The colors, the sweet smell , the…glittery gold” You admiratively said, your joy suddenly catching up with the realization of what he had just said. 
You were his favorite person. 
Lifting at the same time your gaze and the spoon, you take a small amount of the ice cream and taste his declaration of love. 
Just like him it was amazing. Sweet, refreshing and addictive. 
“ So...is that to your liking ? “ He inquired after a small moment, unsure if you taken your time to enjoy the dessert or trying to find a delicate way to put him down. 
“ It’s the best thing I ever tasted, here take a bite “ You offer, lifting the silverware at the level of his mouth. 
Taking your offering, your gaze lock on each other, you both couldn’t repress your smile as he let slip the head of the spoon out of his mouth. 
“ Definitely one of my be…” He couldn’t finish. 
His tie caught on your fist, his torso inclined and supported by his strong arms above the kitchen island. Your cold lips had suddenly crashed against his, taking him off guard and at the same time his breath away. 
Sanji, still ,quickly catch up. Adjusting his position to support the back of your head with one of his hands. He slightly brushes his tongues against your sugary lips, savoring them like a peculiar delicacy. But, as your tongue met, exploring and dancing against each other in a french ritual. He became more and more greedy of your lips, throwing away his usual self control at the first hearing of your panting breath. 
Still trapped in the warm embrace of his lips, enjoying the contrast of his warm tongue against your ice cream cold one, you suddenly heard a groan pronounced by none of you. 
“ Great, now the waiter will stop looking like a love sick puppy. But did you really have to expose us to that ?”
Breaking the kiss, you gave a glance at the door where Zoro, his arm crossed on his chest, was rolling his eyes, clearly already done with both of you. 
Biting your lips of embarrassment you still couldn’t prevented, neither Sanji at it seem, to smile. 
“ Nevermind. Come on black chicken “ He calls your bird, who, now used to it ,goes perch himself on one of his shoulders. Before quitting the doorframe to disappear into the ship “ I have to clean my blade and I know they are not clean enough until you watch your reflection in it. “ 
Laughing at the incongruous friendship of the Swordsman and your pet. You returned your attention to Sanji, another tea spoon of ice cream in his hand.
“I’m sorry” You apologize, still laughing. 
“ No need to be embarrassed Mon coeur “ He smile, regaining as it seem, his composure
“ No, I mean, now I don’t know what I prefer between the dessert or your kisses “ 
Taken aback, Sanji slowly smiles, deposing a small kiss on your lips. 
“ Then why not enjoy them both together…I will gladly supply it every time you ask for it”
Smiling you then proceeded to enjoy the delicious cold dessert and the body warm contrast for the rest of the day and more.  
Bonus : 
Not that Sanji was ashamed to tell you, no. But, even after a year after the event of the offering silverware et other shiny knick-knacks.
He still had, hide behind a pile of pots, the many items brought to him, along the years, by Deimos. Because, even after all this, he was still the reason why you were finally in his arms at night and yes, he had to admit it, he had kind of come to like it, that damn bird. 
667 notes · View notes
ihareyhis · 1 year
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Spideys as incorrect quotes pt2
Hobie: *Kicks the door down*
Pavitr: What did you do?
Hobie: Nobody died.
Pavitr: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!
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Miguel: What do you call disobeying the law?
The Squad: A hobby.
Miguel: *crosses their arms*
The Squad: That we do not engage in
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Pavitr: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?
Hobie: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.
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Pavitr, pointing at Hobie: Are they a Freak (derogatory)?
Pavitr, pointing at Gwen: Or a Freak (affectionate)?
Miles: Why not both?
Pavitr, to Miles: You’re so right, Freak
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Pavitr: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?
Hobie: *crouches down*
Gwen: *kneels down*
Miles: *sits on the floor*
Pavitr: I hate you all
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Miles: How do Hobie and Pavitr usually get out of these messes?
Gwen: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.
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Gwen: Hey Pavitr.
Pavitr: *punches Gwen in the stomach*
Gwen: What the fuck?
Pavitr: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young....YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!
Gwen: What the fuck are you talking about?
Pavitr: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now.
Gwen: I'm not pregnant!
Pavitr: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.
Gwen: I was never pregnant, Pavitr!
Pavitr: Are... you sure?
Gwen: Yes I'm fucking sure!
Hobie: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?
Pavitr: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—
Hobie: *punches Gwen in the stomach*
Gwen: AW, MOTHERFU–
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Gwen: Today at 7 am, Pavitr poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.
Hobie: I watched him brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.
Miles: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me
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Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?
Pavitr: Put spaghetti in it.
Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.
Hobie: Put spaghetti in it.
Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.
Gwen: Put spaghetti in it.
Miles: I am no longer taking suggestions.
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Pavitr: What’s up with Gwen? she’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?
Hobie: She’s just a little overwhelmed.
Pavitr: Why?
Hobie: Miles smiled at her.
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Hobie, Gwen & Miles: *screaming*
Pavitr: *runs into the room* Miles whats wrong?!
Hobie: Wait, why are you asking Miles that when Gwen and I are also here?
Pavitr: Because Miles wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.
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Hobie: What’s your biggest fear?
Gwen: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.
Miles: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.
Pavitr: Zombies.
Gwen: ...
Miles: ...
Pavitr: BUT they can open doors.
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kaysungshine · 10 hours
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݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖
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{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader
{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy
{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?
{ WC } - 7.7k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?
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Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk. 
You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself. 
That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there. 
You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included. 
You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat! 
Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them. 
You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi. 
There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.
Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety. 
You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home. 
Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.
You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point. 
The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.
You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye. 
In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric. 
Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before. 
Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous. 
But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.
You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists. 
You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures. 
You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest. 
So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out. 
Nothing.
You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth. 
They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin. 
You really should start carrying gloves with you.
You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next. 
If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.
You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment. 
You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you. 
Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.
You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours. 
He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles. 
He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too. 
He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements. 
Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips. 
He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real. 
But it was. 
You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. 
You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully. 
You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running. 
Though you weren't so sure you would run. 
Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms. 
The mushrooms. 
That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears. 
His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.
Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago. 
'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly. 
His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes. 
He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."
He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt. 
He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground. 
You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth. 
"Who are you?" You ask curiously. 
"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."
A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared. 
"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm." 
You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong. 
You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues. 
"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures. 
"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.
At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.
"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too." 
As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you. 
"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.
He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it. 
You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though. 
Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening. 
"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"
He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.
"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment." 
"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.
Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing. 
Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you. 
"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children." 
French? This being was a riddle. 
"I don't understand." You force out. 
He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings." 
He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin. 
"The truth?" You ask. 
He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose. 
He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing." 
The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense. 
His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again. 
"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"
You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch. 
"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble. 
He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."
You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.
He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours. 
He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access. 
"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more." 
You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue. 
His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch. 
He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.
His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.
His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt. 
You hissed before whining, begging "Please."
"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.
It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up. 
He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it. 
"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this." 
He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you. 
"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.
"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you. 
Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand. 
His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped. 
You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing. 
It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.
All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek. 
You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.
"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head." 
When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it. 
And fuck.
You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate. 
He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him. 
His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly. 
"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile. 
There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you. 
Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 
Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing. 
He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground. 
He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan. 
This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry. 
You were crying, you realized. 
"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?" 
"Yes!" You sob. 
He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet. 
"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.
His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good. 
"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?" 
You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you. 
At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.
He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure. 
"So tight." He grunted.
You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you. 
It was becoming overwhelming. 
You still didn't want it to stop.
"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.
So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan. 
Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze. 
He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard. 
His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet." 
You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements. 
"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"
"Yes." You breathed.
"I can fix that." 
You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty. 
He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.
His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now. 
He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud. 
The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him. 
You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.
You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch. 
It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements. 
He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.
He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead. 
Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away. 
He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core. 
"So pretty, even here darling." 
You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs. 
"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove." 
And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more. 
Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing. 
He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.  
You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.
He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously. 
You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. 
You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips. 
"Fuck..." He whispered.
"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.
You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you. 
You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop. 
He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis. 
"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned. 
He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat. 
He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you. 
That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name. 
"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.
"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.
"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.
He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point. 
The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through. 
Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.
When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion. 
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The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to. 
Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.  
Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest. 
That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.
"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.
He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house. 
He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.
"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly. 
"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches. 
You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore. 
"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up. 
He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink. 
You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were. 
"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more." 
"More?" You questioned him.
"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.
"How did you even know where I live?" 
"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles." 
You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true. 
Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.
"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 
It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night. 
You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions. 
You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?
"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.
"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all." 
Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.
"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all." 
You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.
You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him? 
When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say. 
You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent. 
How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?
"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought. 
"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble. 
You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore. 
You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.
"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew." 
You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.
"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water. 
"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."
"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed. 
"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."
At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest. 
"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-" 
"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off. 
"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech. 
"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to." 
"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"
"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."
You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.
"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."
There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.
"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions. 
"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms." 
You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it. 
Craved it. 
You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent. 
He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."
He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.
"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.
"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."
Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"
The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap. 
His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?" 
"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all. 
"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all. 
Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.
It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond. 
So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck. 
"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is." 
His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.
You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.
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Taglist:
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@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu
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@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure
As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡
But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.
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vaguesxrrow · 3 months
Note
Platonic monty x witch reader where the reader would frequently visit esther with witchy duties and would always bring crow monty trinkets so when human monty came around he just starts fanboying seeing reader but they're confused about it so he just tries to act cool talking ab hearing good things about them from his "ghost friend" thank u <3
(p.s this was actually a dream I had and I think it's cute😭😭😭)
I AM SOOO SORRY THIS TOOK OVER A MONTH LIKE ACTUALLY 😭😭😭🙏
monty & witch!reader
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a/n: yayy cheers for my first monty fic
wc: 1408
tags: gender neutral reader, witch reader, platonic monty & reader
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"hi, esther!" you called as you opened the door to her house, lugging behind you a rucksack filled with... well, the contents of your bag were probably best left unsaid. "hi, monty!" you said as you caught sight of the crow in his cage. "oh, it's been so long. missed you, buddy."
you usually came around to esther's twice a month for your witchy duties. 'duties' meaning exchanging ingredients, and the occasional (frequent) gossip of other witches in the magic community. really, though, your favourite part of your visits were visiting monty.
the crow chirped at you in greeting. you grinned, retrieving from your pocket two trinkets. first, you handed him the necklace, which you had found when you were doing some spring cleaning. the gem on it was almost black, but blue enough that you thought it would pop against monty's feathers. and you were right - as you handed it to him, he deftly swung it up as if to put it on, but wasn't quite successful and instead it landed on his head. you laughed, unlocking the door of the cage to adjust it for him. he cawed and puffed up his chest, clearly pleased with the new gift.
next, you handed him a shiny pebble. this, you only just found on your journey here. you had parked at the beach, intending to collect some green seaglass for a spell, when you found a rock gleaming so brightly it could have been a crystal. it held no magical properties as far as you were concerned, but you knew monty had to have it.
monty took that, too, setting it down on a cushion in the corner of his enclosure. then, he flew out the open door to perch on your shoulder, nipping your hair affectionately.
"are you planning on stealing my monty, [name]?" esther teased, appearing from the kitchen.
"you know what? maybe i will," you mused as you stroked monty's feathers.
esther barked out a laugh that was equal parts disbelieving and threatening. "sure, honey. now let's talk business."
you left the place two elemental teeth and three vials of blood richer, and with a promise to visit again soon.
⌦ --
'soon' ended up being a whole month and a half later, having missed your second visit last month. you had an extra bounce in your step as you strolled up to esther's front porch, yet still taking care not to jostle your bag full of potions in glass jars.
before you could open the door, it swung open, revealing a boy who seemed to be about your age.
your first thought was, did esther have children?
after ruling out the first question with a no way in hell, your second thought was, did esther kidnap a teenager?
"uh.. hi," you said awkwardly. "is esther home?"
"not at the moment! she went to the store, but we were expecting you, so she shouldn't be much longer," he told you. "but, uh, come in, please!"
he held the door open for you as you walked inside. you set your bag down on the table. "how'd you end up living with esther?" you questioned. you weren't judging (mostly), just surprised that esther would ever live with another human, especially a teenager. she seemed to barely tolerate you. "and what's your name?"
"well, esther calls me 'handsome' most of the time." he rolled his eyes. "really annoying habit, but i let her do it, cause you know her!"
nice evasion, you thought to yourself, noting that mystery boy had deigned to actually answer any of your questions. he was getting more interesting by the second.
you sat down on a stool at the kitchen table. "well, nice to meet you. i'm-"
"[name]!" he blurted. "i know."
you paused in surprise. "and how do you know that, exactly?"
he froze for a millisecond, before launching into another long-winded explanation. "well, you're actually pretty famous, in case you didn't know! i heard about you from this, uh, cool ghost friend of mine. yeah, they're like, super cool, and if they think you're cool then you must be, like, even cooler."
you gave him a once-over, still confused. he noticed you staring and self-consciously tugged at a chain around his neck, tucking the necklace into his shirt. weird.
before you could interrogate him more, the front door audibly swung open, creaking on its hinges. esther's voice sing-songed from the entrance as she complained about the cashier at the supermarket, vaguely plottint his demise.
"where are you, m- oh!" she paused as she caught sight of you. "[name]!" her tone was cheerful, but you weren't sure if she was exactly happy to see you. then again, you never were.
"hi, esther," you greeted back. "just came to drop off the potions." you gave your bag a jostle, and the glass jars inside clinked against each other noisily.
she half-grinned, half-grimaced at you. "thank you, dear. you can be on your way now." she waved you away, undoubtedly using her magic, as you felt an invisible force tug you towards the front door.
"uh, my bag-" you began.
"i'll return it!" mystery boy piped up. "um, meet me at the park tomorrow at noon? we can be friends!"
"sure!" you called, having to raise your voice as your body moves further and further away. "um, see you then!"
it wasn't until you arrived at the sole motel in port townsend that you realised you'd never gotten the name of your to-be friend.
⌦ --
you met mystery boy on the bench at the park, as you had arranged yesterday. you were determined to get his name this time; if you were going to be friends, then you couldn't call him mystery boy forever. he already knew your name after all.
"[name]!"
you turned around to find him approaching, two paper coffee cups in his hands, along with your bag, as promised. smiling, you waved at him.
"hi. wow," he said. he handed you back your bag, and one of the cups. "this is for you. i wasn't sure what kind of coffee you like, so i just chose the special, cause y'know, from what i heard from my ghost friend, you seem like the kind of laid back person who can just do whatever, which i admire."
amused, and slightly puzzled, you chuckled. "thank you?" you took a sip of the drink he offered, nodding in approval to let him know it was good. "i didn't think i had that high of a reputation. i mean, you seem to know a lot about me, but i don't even know your name."
he fiddled with the chain around his neck again, drawing your attention to the piece of jewelry. today, it wasn't concealed under his shirt. you squinted. it was a metal chain, with a gem that was a dark sapphire blue. you could recognise it anywhere.
"is that... the necklace i gave esther's crow?" you blurted.
he froze.
your eyes widened. "wait..." you scanned him, and the more you scrutinised his features the more oddly familiar they looked. "monty?"
"uhh, about that..."
"oh my god." you stood up in shock. "did esther turn you into a crow? i didn't think she'd do something like that, transforming humans.. if she's been keeping you with her all this time-"
"what? no!" he shook his head. "she recently turned me human."
your rant ended abruptly. "oh."
you were a bit confused about that, too. how? when? why? but you supposed you might as well enjoy it for what it was: finally being able to talk to your favourite crow-boy.
"but thanks for looking out for me." he - monty (monty!) smiled.
"it's no problem," you responded, slightly embarrassed at your outburst. "i mean, you're my friend. so like, any time." you really were touched. being a witch didn't give much time for socialising, and even within the magic community, relationships were often kept professional. talking to monty, even when he couldn't respond, was nice for you.
"we're friends?" he asked, eyes sparkling hopefully.
"yeah, duh," you said. "i didn't give you all those trinkets for nothing. i'm glad to see you kept some of them, though." you motioned to the necklace.
"of course i did. guess i'm kind of wired to like shiny things. ex-crow and all."
"makes sense." you shrugged. "how'd you end up becoming human, anyway?"
he huffed, grinning. "oh, boy, it's a long story…”
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halestrom · 1 month
Text
I made this gifset in an attempt to try not write the fic. It backfired. And I am really happy with the first scene so I felt like sharing 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
Warnings for: blood, violence, pain, underground fighting. It’s mob boss Jake and fighter Bradley.
The first punch was always the worst. The feeling of knuckles against his skin; the way his head snapped back as pain spread across his synapses; the sudden urge to run filling his bones until he felt jittery with the need; the way thought fled his mind but the training ground into his very being had his arms coming up to defend himself from a second punch. All of it happening in a split second as the crowd roared around them in muted joy at the blood he could feel trickling down his face and then the world rushed back in and Bradley was moving, dodging the next punch and instead throwing one of his own, catching his opponent high on the chin and watching as his head snapped down and he went down in slow motion.
The ref was there, arms as thick as tree trunks pressing against Bradley’s chest to push him back, the tattoos wrapped around his skin telling his story as easily as the scars on Bradley’s body told his. Still, his opponent kept falling until he hit the mat and laid there, bleeding, eyes closed as his team screamed at him to get up, to get moving, to do something as the time wound down in flashes as the crowd screamed along with the coach because they wanted more blood than they already had, spattered around the ring that looked nicer than it should have for the world it belonged in.
But that was the nature of this world. Shiny, pretty things covered in blood, a veneer over the dark underground Bradley had found himself in. It was easy to forget, sometimes, what this world could do, with its brightly lit parties, the men and women dressed to the nines with flashing jewelry and perfectly done hair, outfits that cost as much as a new home. It was all a cover for the darkness, for the jockeying for the front row on the off chance some of the blood would fly over them, a badge of pride to wear for how close to the violence they could get. Bradley had been at more than one afterparty, face bruised and nose broken, again, only to talk to people who had blood splattered over theirs, some of the women with that blood splatter having smudged lipstick which told a tale as easily as the swollen lips of some of the men.
Violence and sex, a tale as old as time.
“Ten!”
The crowd screamed it’s joy as the ref grabbed his arm and raised it over his head, bare knuckles swollen and sore, his shoulder aching from a hit he had taken, the bruises over his ribs mottled and layered in various stages of healing. But all of it faded in satisfaction as he watched the other team pull his opponent out of the way of the rush of people, clamoring to get closer to him as his name was chanted.
“Your winner for the night ladies and gentlemen, Rooster!” the MC screamed into the mike, mouth twisted in a rictus grin, tall and thin and looking like the Grim Reaper himself in his black suit and pale skin.
Bradley knew his job, he knew what he needed to do to keep the favor as he shove his other hand up in the air and dropped his head back, crowing his victory, again, and spitting out the mouth guard, grinning with bloody teeth and split lips, his cheek aching even as the ref dropped his arm and people swarmed, hands clapping him on the back, hitting muscles covered in bruises as he worked his way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and smiling for flashing phones with his arms draped around women who let their hands drop lower than he wished, like he was just something else that was part of the setting and not a real person.
Sometimes, he doubted they thought of him as a real person. It probably made it easier.
He made it back to the corner, hands still clapping him on the back, fingers finding the sore spots and bruising them but he ignored it as he took the towel from his cutman for the night, wiping his face clear, the fabric ripped away from him as soon as he was done and he let it, bracing his arms on the ropes and letting his eyes slide from the cut man who was talking to a man in a fancy suit to a man dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt, looking so out of place with the rest of the peacocks but despite that, he looked like he belonged.
And he did. After all, this building belonged to him, the money that changed hands came with a tax that fed back into him, securing his empire with each punch thrown and real time bet made. Jake Seresin was at the top of this world, and like every other thing in this room, Bradley belonged to him.
“Good enough for you?” Bradley asked, forcing himself to smile around aching lips.
Jake smiled back at him, small and sharp and at odds with the coldness in his ice green eyes. “Better than, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice smooth and warm and it was a balm on Bradley’s bruises as he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.
A good fight meant a good paycheck, something better than could mean a bonus. Something Bradley could use to chip away at the bills and put some money away so when his day finally came, his parents wouldn’t be left with the debt.
“Good,” Bradley said, folding his arms and resting his chin on them.
“Taking the hit at the end was inspired,” Jake said, taking a step closer until he was looking up at Bradley, head tilted back but Bradley knew who held the power here.
Crouching until they were eye to eye, Bradley left his hands on the top rope, keeping himself steady as Jake stepped ever closer, reaching out to brush a thumb over the bruise Bradley could already feel swelling his eye closed. “Half the idiots in the room upped their ante on you getting KO’d. Idiots.”
The derision wasn’t masked, but Jake never needed to mask anything. Not with his power, not with the three bodyguards Bradley could make out, and the loyalty of half the room. Bradley shrugged when it seemed like Jake was waiting for an answer. “Wasn’t thinking,” he said, telling the truth.
Bradley didn’t think when he fought. He had an objective. Win. That was all he needed to do and anything else would get in the way. Once upon a time he had thought more, building up the tension until he struck. But that was a long time ago, a different person. He couldn’t risk being that person anymore, not when he needed to keep standing.
Jake smiled like Bradley had said something funny and leaned in, hand still cupping Bradley’s jaw, thumb pressing down on the edge on the bruise until Bradley hissed at the bloom of pain, ignoring the way his pulse pounded. “Regardless, a fight like that deserves a reward. So what do you want, darlin’?”
Money. A way out. A year without something going wrong. To get rid of the axe hanging over his mother’s neck as each month passed and her cancer stayed in remission. To go back in time and beg God a little bit harder for a miracle so Bradley wasn’t drawn into his life. He wanted a lot of things. Jake Seresin might be god in this world, but Bradley knew better than to pray to the devil.
“A good days sleep,” he said dryly, smiling at Jake who huffed, a ghost of something Bradley might almost classify as a real smile ghosting his lips for a second.
“Oh, I think we can arrange that,” Jake said, moving his hand and rubbing a thumb over Bradley’s bottom lip before dropping his hand, but not before Bradley saw the red smeared on it. He licked his bottom lip and tasted salt and copper where there had only been copper before.
“Oh yeah?” Bradley asked, tilting his head to the side, wondering what Jake meant.
Jake gave him a once over before he nodded. “Finish up and then clean up, Rooster. Meet me in my office. We’ll get you out of here before dawn.”
Bradley knew a dismissal when he heard it and he nodded, standing and ignoring the ache in his muscles as he turned back to the crowd, aware of eyes on him, once again aware of the role he needed to play as he thrust arms up into the air and crowe. It was all the crowd needed before they surged, content with the knowledge Bradley had paid his dues to the man who owned all of them and now he was fair game.
Hands grabbed him and he was pulled into the crowd, the world reduced to flashes and half heard comments and Bradley focused on it, letting himself get drawn into it so he didn’t have to think about an opponent he would never see again, and a meeting in an office that had turned him down this path and taken him from aspiring MMA fighter to Jake Seresin’s prize fighter.
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sophiasrant · 7 months
Note
do you have any good damijon fic recs?
BEST ASK EVER. GIVE ME A MOMENT TO AQUIRE.
1. Navigating life by nxghtwxng
College AU that will break your heart and mend it over and over again. My favorite damijon fic EVER. I’m insane over it. If you do one thing tonight, start this series.
2. got your finger on the trigger (but your trigger finger’s mine) by eyes_to_the_sky
EVIL JON AU MY BELOVED. A small one shot that had me in a chokehold for WEEKS.
3. Bloodstains on Fresh Oranges by artobsessed_writes
VAMPIRE DAMIAN AU SHHDJEHFJE. This fic had me gnawing at my walls. This fic is SO good about their dynamic and I WHDHDJJDJE. It is the first part of a series!! Can never recommend it enough.
4. Mirror Mirror by First_Mate
In another universe, Damian is murdered. Jon can’t handle it, so decides to travel to another universe to be with their Damian. Only, that universe’s Jon might just take issue with that. I can’t do it justice by summarizing it. IT’S SO GOOD.
5. It Wouldn’t Be Make Believe (If You Believed In Me) by poisonivory
College AU!!! The boys have to go undercover together to party. What could possibly go wrong (or right)?
6. I can’t make you love me by badwriterrr
Unrequited love all around but it all ends up ok. If you don’t like unrequited love angst, I probably wouldn’t read this one but I LOVE it.
7. Those Who Wait by InsaneTrollLogic
I have never been a reverse robins girlie. It has never been my thing. This however is the exception. This fic makes me want to sob. I’m so normal about it.
8. Propinquity theory by butterflyapocalypse
Another college AU. Can you tell I like them yet?
9. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow by poisonivory
They’re totally platonic friends with benefits! Absolutely nothing more! No one caught feelings! (You’ll never guess what happened)
10. Trust Fall by Ididloveyou_once
This one is a timkon fic with background damijon but it’s so good and changed my brain chemistry so im tacking it on anyway. You can’t stop me.
If you ever need any more fics, you know where to find me. OR if you wanna rec ME fics, I am to fics like a crow is to shiny objects.
(Edit: they are still superheroes in all of the college AUs if I remember correctly)
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vicsy · 3 months
Note
Had no idea what to pitch so I literally looked up one word prompts and chose the first few. Pick whichever inspires: Daniel x Max + Sunburn/Tease/Emerge/Afternoon/Impulse/Nurture/Rough/Polaroid/Good
maxiel + polaroid, sunburn
"Drink?"
"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Can't stay long. Duty calls!" Daniel makes an exaggerated gesture. Max cracks a smile. He probably follows the pundit stuff Daniel does more than actual racing these days. "Just wanted to pop by since you're back to calling Monaco home. Nice place, mate."
If not for the sim rig installed in an empty guest room that could have been a nursery in a life he brushed aside, nobody would have ever guessed Max lived here. His new apartment was clean, spacious, incredibly faceless. A simple home for a creature of habit Max always was but not quite a home.
"I wanted to go watch the race this weekend," Max admits and pads through the cluttered living room to the adjacent kitchen, straight to the fridge. It's shiny, sophisticated and very empty, except for a monthly supply of Red Bull and yesterday's leftovers. He grabs a can for himself, wishing he had that beer Daniel used to love. "But I am of course happy to see you after, well. Who knows, yeah?"
Couple years, give or take. Max stopped counting after turning thirty-three.
Behind him, Daniel claps his hands together. Max throws a surprised look over his shoulder, blindly rummaging in the fridge. The shine of Daniel's smile hasn't diminished over the years, but the crow's feet around his eyes, Max discovers, are more prominent than he remembers. He wonders if Daniel notices the little changes about him, too; if he cares for them at all. Max does.
"Oh, congrats on your team winning, uh, another virtual racing thingy," he delivers the line with that old, addictive enthusiasm and, to Max, it's a gut punch. He schools his face, a lump forming in his throat. Daniel gives him a thumbs up, turns around and walks along the empty shelves attached to the TV wall. The lack of decor there makes it look kind of pathetic. Max had only managed to put two of his WEC trophies on display, a helmet he wore for the last race and a nice-looking box of assorted knick-knacks dear to his memory. "Any plans to decimate Le Mans this year, Mr Three Time champ?"
"Fernando is busy with Dakar, so probably I'll skip it. Oscar texted me about doing it next year together, so," Daniel's back is facing him still. Max closes the fridge and opens the Red Bull can, places it on the kitchen counter. Stares at it for a second or two. Then, out of a long-forgotten habit, Max goes for a poorly planned half-joke. "Didn't know you started watching iRacing in your old age. Quick, what's a livestream?"
It's a desperate attempt to even the gap between now and before. Daniel flips him a bird without looking, too occupied with whatever he found on Max's sad little shelves.
"Har, har, fucker. I mean, I gotta keep myself in the game, everything is changing, like, a lot. And, come on, it's you–" he stops talking. Max takes a sip from the can, watching Daniel finally face him. "Huh. Didn't know you still have these."
Max has gone lengths without having to experience a solid enough crash and the debilitating aftermath reverberating through his body. In the sun-flooded apartment, on the freshly turned page, it catches up to Max as abruptly as a rainstorm in the summer.
Forty-three year old Daniel is standing in his unfurnished living room, a splotch of color among the backdrop of generic white paint and a mount of unpacked boxes. Forty-three year old Daniel, with a sprinkle of salt in his hair and a tan line on the ring finger of his left hand, looks at Max like he's a ghost from the past, like it's him who just had to ruin everything when things got too real. He wasn't there when Max paid the price of his own happiness in retaliation.
Forty-three year old Daniel, who sent out an invitation to a wedding Max never attended, holds up two tiny polaroids taken almost a decade ago and all Max can think of is his signature on the divorce papers, the ink still wet.
He swiftly closes the distance to Daniel and snatches both pictures from him, cradles them to his chest. Daniel's hand is left suspended in the air between them. Max ignores the wobble in between his ribs. His eyes trace the line of the rose tattoo in the direct line of vision, memory bristling, anger thrumming underneath his skin.
"I kept them," Max spits. He doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice. He had it bottled up long enough the cork had gone rotten.
Daniel stares back, mouth slack. He looks good and Max hates that, hates his stupid colorful hoodie and his meager attempts to make amends. Above all, Max hates himself for ever conceding. Daniel has always had one foot out the door. Missed chances were Max's fuel and they've still propelled him back to square one.
"Yeah. I figured," Daniel says, too soft, too familiar. Placating. Max should ask him to leave.
Instead, he drops his gaze to the polaroids laid flat on his palm. They're in good condition but Max also hadn't looked at them in months, maybe years; it doesn't matter since those Daniel and Max, everything they stood for, ossified and turned into dust. It doesn't keep Max awake at night anymore.
Out of the two photos, only one comes from the Red Bull PR department. They never cared when it went missing. Max remembers the video they shot too starkly to be unbothered it ever happened — him and Daniel in matching team gear, insane rain in Monaco; Max winning that weekend and Daniel watching from the pit wall.
The other polaroid, a bit rough on the edges, had never seen the light of day. It captured just a part of Max's sunburnt face, a corner of his smile; Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, his wet curls in disarray. Max gets a phantom ache in his chest when he remembers how the camera ended up in the sand, falling off a small table where they had propped it up against a half-empty cocktail glass.
Daniel cups Max's hand holding the photos from underneath, painfully hesitant. Max flits his eyes up to the hollow of Daniel's throat, to his full beard; to the pleading look stabbing daggers into the soft edges of Max that were once hard and unforgiving. 
Stashing those polaroids was Max’s way to forget he wished to go back. He was never the one to leave in the first place; that was Daniel's sworn prerogative. But he's in Max's living room now, a lifetime away from running.
"Max–"
"I think," he cuts in before Daniel makes it worse or gives him hope. His hand slips from Daniel's hold and Max retraces his steps back to the kitchen. Daniel tracks his every move. "I think I will put them here."
He sticks the polaroids to the enormous fridge door with a Welcome to Monaco magnet he fished out of a nearby drawer. The photos look whacky but, to Max, it's a long shot. He lingers in place, berating himself for giving this another chance. 
When he turns back around, Daniel is just an arm's length away.
"About that drink," Daniel says, low. Max watches his tongue dart out, wetting his lips. His heart jackhammers against his ribs.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Max's back hits the fridge.
Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic abou
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ramlightly · 23 days
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What is Morgan's backstory??? Also, baby Morgan looks like they might be in need of hug, and I am willing to risk the coins in my pocket to do it
Once upon a time, there was a crow that liked shiny things very much and particularly like stealing from the local wizard's collection. One day, however, the crow picked a bad time to visit as the wizard was in the middle of a ritual that went completely wrong. The walls distorted, rocks turns to gems, the vegetables in the garden grew to size of small houses, and the crow turned into a human.
The wizard (his name is Rufus. Well, technically it's not, but Morgan just calls him Rufus) couldn't turn the crow-turned-human back, so he ends up raising the boy, teaching him how to act human and magic. They developed a father and son dynamic, with the crow becoming quite fond of old Rufus.
But the crow, who eventually chose the name Morgan, never felt completely at home as a human. He yearned too much from his old life, things like flying and his flock. He wanted a way to change from crow to human and back again as much as he pleased, to always have the choice that was originally taken from him. So Morgan left the tower and Rufus to journey the world and go on adventures.
Morgan, uh, mostly used the magic he learned to become steal a lot lol. He's become rather well known for being a very effective but also very odd thief.
And yeah, baby Morgan could use a hug. He did not take the sudden transition from crow to human very well. He doesn't remember very much of the first couple of weeks other the overwhelming emotions of confusion and fear.
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sillygoofyqueer · 1 month
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Ooh, for Shen Yuan’s looks I was thinking a black, blue and silver theme, to Bing-ge’s black, red and gold.
(You can’t tell me emperor Bing-ge, also the Huan Hua Palace master, doesn’t have at least some gold in his formal outfits).
If you look at crow feathers, they have a sort of blue sheen in the right lighting, so blue would be quite fitting!
I also like the idea of his hair being mostly elegant and classy, but with some cute little braids that include colored threads weaved in them, plus shiny bobbles and feathers hanging off the ends. The braids are from his crow family members. It’s a traditional grooming practice!
Anon I am MADLY in love with you. We're going to high five and hug and frolic in the fields together if I ever find out who you are. The idea of little braids being in otherwise elegant hair really fits with my perception of "mainly classy Shen Yuan until his bird instincts kick in (he's also a little gremlin before that)", because he obviously wants to keep his hair neat and presentable but he also has the natural instinct to let people braid his hair to show affection! (Definitely have to have a wholesome little scene where Shen Yuan shows Bing-ge how to braid his hair in the traditional fashion). I love the idea of shiny things being in his hair as well, through shiny beads and threads. BONUS POINTS if he has a shiny little thing that holds his hair up and counts as a little dagger (gifted by one of the others in the crow family as a precaution. Can also be traditional for those who come of a certain age!) On another note, thinking about Shen Yuan in half human form. He retains his wings and I like to think he has spatterings of feathers crawling up his spine and the back of his neck, around the edges of his cheeks maybe? He looks mainly human, but I'd find it cool if he still had those little patches of feathers (like when you see patches of scales on a dragon-shifter type character)
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Oh, this is so fun. I've always loved a protective family, and I love Bing-ge being struck by the audacity of the crow family and also jealousy because nobody ever acts like this about him!! His wives do, he supposes, but that's for their own selfish reasons! They don't really care about him like the crow family cares for Shen Yuan. The crow family is only not attacking him because Shen Yuan has said that it's "not cool" to attack the emperor, or whatever. Corvids can mimic that stuff?? Oh my god, the ANTICS! Shen Yuan would totally use it to mess with people when he's bored, jumpscaring people and having fun with story time for the kids. He would also use it when stealing, so that he doesn't have to needlessly hurt anyone to get to the shiny thing he covets, the human side of him holding him back. I'd find it super funny that when the crows (cultivating or not) meet Bing-ge, a few start spurting out every curse they've ever heard from humans, and Shen Yuan has to explain that they're mimicking what they hear people say, they don't mean it! (probably-) {part five! Part one, part two, part three, part four, part six, part seven!!}
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wisteriagoesvroom · 6 months
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helloooooo :)) sliding in with a generic marvel-esque vaguely criminal organization landoscar au with background lestappen because I am nothing if not predictable
Oscar is their resident poison specialist (he makes new poisons, tests them, makes antidotes, etc. for the organization to use). His preference is plant based poisons, like belladonna and nightshade, because he graduated college with a botany degree and therefore has a lot of knowledge about them that he can put for use. He spends most of his time in his greenhouse full of toxic, beautiful plants that he tends too very, very carefully. They’re his babies.
There’s a whole backstory involved with how he came to join the organization that involves him accidentally killing his college roommate
Lando is a former gymnast turned espionage guy who also does theft on the side for funsies that works for the organization. Like vaguely cat woman-y? Obviously he’s super flexible and super good at his job because duh.
His favorite hobby is breaking into Oscar’s greenhouse via the windows and watching him work. Oscar is super fascinating to him, and he’s enamored with how absolutely brilliant this quiet, stoic boy, with maybe five facial expressions total is.
Lando sits there and listens to Oscar ramble about his complex science things. He doesn’t understand most of it ngl, but he loves the way Oscar’s face lights up when he goes on a long tangent about the chemical properties of cyanide and why it’s superior to arsenic.
Also sometimes lando brings Oscar random pretty shiny things that he stole that he thinks Oscar might like and leaves them on his desk, kind of like a crow. Oscar keeps all of them in a box under his bed. He looks at them when he feels down (he doesn’t tell lando that)
Oscar is equally obsessed with lando but this is already wayyyyyy too long so 😭 you just gotta trust me on this one
And then eventually, the rest of the people in the organization pick up on the growing landoscar feelings situation. Alex and George give lando a bunch of (loving and caring) grief about it. A bet between them is born. “$50 lando is too chicken to confess to Oscar by the end of the month”
Yada yada time skip a week or so and lando and Oscar FINALLY do something about the tension between them one night late in Oscar’s greenhouse, lando freshly back from a mission. Boom they kiss and then lando, being the idiot that he is, as soon as they pull apart, goes “lol George and Alex owe me $50 now”
Cue misunderstanding trope. “Oh you only kissed me for a bet?? You don’t actually have feelings for me 😔 I knew it was too good to be true.”
Lando realizes his mistake but Oscar’s already out the door, disappeared into the night.
And then Oscar gets kidnapped by the enemy 🤗 because he’d normally be more aware and vigilant and stuff but his emotions are really going through it so. The ransom note comes through the next day.
Gonna leave it on that because otherwise I will spiral into a full blown fic when I already have too many wips to finish
I'M SO????? HOW DID U JUST RANDOMLY SLIDE IN HERE WITH THIS???? i am so obsessed with these details my god the POISON? CATMAN ESPIONAGEGYMNAST? christ. and then lando leaving him little gifts like a crow. OSCAR ACCIDENTALLY K-WORDING HIS ROOMMATE (and possible guilt)?? the classic misunderstanding thingy "but oscar gets kidnapped" leading to a climactic rescue oh oh oh this is the stuff of dreams.
idk what to do with myself exactly cus this is so gorgeous. anyway have a moodboard for your efforts cus like my goodness this was lovely to read.
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