#one day i shall learn how to draw but until then i will have to imagine

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

[changedsunlight]

what i wouldn't give for fanart of the Disaster Lineage carrying obi-wan because he's the smallest of them all. like, qui-gon going bridal carry with a furious obi. anakin either giving him a piggyback ride or straight up tossing him over his shoulder. ahsoka jokingly lifting him up à la lion king. dooku very confidently holding him like a baby while he hides his face in embarrassment. bonus points for yoda just levitating the poor man.

[egophiliac]

please i would like to know more knitting headcanons if you have them. i love the most wholesome cozy headcanons out there

this got SO away from me, I'm so sorry, it started as "here is some needlework-related headcanon" and then I just lost my entire mind and it turned into "here are Scenarios about characters doing crafts". I…wasn't kidding about dedicating large amounts of time thinking about characters making things out of yarn.

it's not quite a fanfic but, uhhh, take it about as seriously as you take my comics, I guess. :') we're all just having fun here!

the closest Grim has gotten to knitting is the time he ate half a skein of yarn because it "looked spicy". (that was not a fun day for Yuu or the Ramshackle bathroom.) the ghosts, meanwhile, have canonically have made clothes for Yuu and Grim and, honestly, they're probably their own little knitting club (and Yuu's self-appointed eccentric granduncles). you know they're loving having an actual person to play dress-up make things for. we shall be well-prepared for any more impromptu Tsunotarou snowstorms.

Riddle, Trey, and Jamil all know the basics of sewing, but don't do any needling beyond mending/darning/general upkeep. they're all annoyingly practical. (Najma is also annoyingly practical, but she's more fashion-forward about it than Jamil. she's probably really into visible mending.)

Ruggie and Epel probably do know how to knit, in addition to those basics, but to them it's more of a utilitarian thing (need a new warm hat for the winter!) than something they do for fun. on that note, I think Epel wouldn't really have a complex about knitting -- partly because it IS a practical skill to have for those Harveston winters, and partly because he would have learned from Marja, and no one would dare imply Marja is anything less than absolutely badass.

meanwhile Ruggie is over here gleefully unravelling Leona's old sweaters so he can make himself a cashmere hat. it'sfreeyarn.jpg

Jack crochets little cozies and accessories for his cactus. he makes seasonal and holiday-themed versions with cute little sewn-on buttons and, you know what, now I need to draw event outfits for a cactus. hold on.

Deuce's mom definitely knits. he might've learned the basics from her when he was little, but never used them until recently, when he's been trying to pick it back up in order to make her a gift. (there's probably a heartwarming story in there about a special scarf or something that she made him that he's trying to replicate for her.) he's been at it for literally months now because he keeps screwing up his math and Riddle has to help him fix it.

Ace doesn't do any needlecraft, and razzed Deuce about it for a while until he found out the reason he was so Determined is because it's for his mom (and also the heartwarming story about the special scarf or whatever). so then he felt kind of guilty, and since he'd rather die than admit it, resolved to just never mention it again. except Deuce is so hilariously inept that not making fun of him is really, really hard. so Ace is just sitting there having a personal crisis every time Deuce whips out his needles and adorable little yarn basket. his life is so difficult. :(

Cater bought an amigurumi kit once when they were The Thing on Magicam. he made a few hedgehogs, took pictures, then gave them away to his friends and hasn't thought about them since. (Riddle was so moved by the gift that he forgot to yell at the first-years for a whole day. his hedgehog has a place of honor on his desk.)

Leona has never touched a needle in his life, and would be insulted if you implied he might enjoy expending a small amount of energy over anything he doesn't have to.

Kalim has touched a needle, once, when he tried to help mend something. he was so atrocious at it that Jamil forbade him from ever touching one again. if he started knitting it would probably give Jamil heart problems.

Azul strikes me as being someone who always has to be doing something. but he also doesn't like the inefficiency of spending so much time and effort without much return (personal satisfaction doesn't count). so I think he doesn't really do any crafting outside of whatever's necessary for whatever bit he's running at the moment…though maybe there's a tasteful stitched sampler or two hanging on a wall in Mostro. just because.

Jade is a little more crafty (ho ho, puns) outside of Schemes. by which I mean he exclusively makes mushroom-related decor and insists on hanging it up in Mostro. (Azul keeps asking him to stop. Jade pretends not to hear.)

Floyd once knit most of a densely-cabled fisherman's sweater in half a day. he got within 200 stitches of finishing before he got bored and never got back to it.

Vil probably, like…spent a week making a pair of cute mitts or something, and was really proud of them! then Neige made the mistake of getting super excited and trying to bond over it, and inadvertently soured Vil on knitting forever.

Rook I genuinely believe is both capable of doing everything, and also actively involved in using those skills at any given time. he could make an offhand remark about how he's been needlefelting tiny petals to stitch together into an elaborate rose-themed bodysuit and I would just be like "yep, that tracks."

he could also mention that he just put the finishing touches on the statue of Neige made out of hair that he keeps in the Hey Arnold-style shrine in his closet, and I would still be like "yep, that tracks".

I don't think Idia knits, but he might have bit of theoretical interest in it because of the relationship between knitting and binary? he probably spent a while trying to figure out if he could somehow make a playable version of Doom on a sweater. (it's magic, so yes. he doesn't want to actually have to make the sweater though.)

Ortho once made a hat and some mittens for Idia. it might be cold when they finally go to the park. :)

Malleus has a tapestry that's been his quick breather project for the last 400 years. he was vexed when he ran out of a color that hasn't been produced since the plant the dye came from went extinct a century ago. >:( the new flosses just aren't the same.

Sebek has tried embroidery in order to feel closer to ~wakasama~ but he doesn't have the patience for it. he's trying, though! his daisies are barely lazy at all these days! (he would probably actually be really good at knitting, since a lot of it is just…following instructions and doing math. since his main point of reference right now is Lilia, he hasn't figured this out.)

Lilia knits poorly and with much gusto. gauge? never heard of her. tension? this is supposed to be a relaxing hobby! it's unclear if he knows how bad he is, or if he's deliberately trying to see how embarrassing he can get before the others stop wearing the things he makes them. (they never will.) either way, he's having fun!

Silver was a self-sufficient little homestead boy by the time he was twelve, so of course he knows all the fun things you can do with wool (fortunately he learned how to knit before Lilia had a chance to ruin him) (idk, a friendly squirrel taught him or something, he's a literal disney princess his life is like that). he has a unique talent for being able to sit there asleep and somehow still spin perfectly consistent yarn.

look, I just want Silver to use a spinning wheel, c'mon

Neige and Silver both make tiny sweaters for orphaned baby animals. Neige's are more skilled (they have colorwork and little seed buttons) but Silver's are softer, since they're made from the wool that his forest bunny friends gather for him and donate to the cause. (Ace heard him mention this once and had to go have another personal crisis over it.)

this also ties into another absolutely unfounded headcanon I have about Silver and Neige being friends with the same bluebird family that alternates island sides for breakfast and dinner. there isn't any more to it, I just think it'd be cute. 🐦

orphan baby animals aside, Neige absolutely 1000% knits and you'll never convince me otherwise. he made that sweater. he made Snick's scarf. if you spend too long around him he'll have already started making you a cardigan in your favorite color. the dwarves don't knit because they don't have to. (wait, no, Timmy probably does -- you never actually see him do it, but every once in a while there's a new aggressively cute potholder added to the collection. Toby has tried, but he is physically incapable of not dropping stitches everywhere and ending up with a sad little pile of yarn.)

Che'nya says he does yarn sculpture, but really he's just batting the yarn balls around and leaving them for someone else to clean up.

Rollo does enormous cross-stitch recreations of illuminated manuscripts on 60-count linen (over one, of course). he will lecture you for two hours on how much he does not enjoy doing it and how that makes him better than you.

Mickey doesn't (I SAID EVERYONE). I'm sure his girlfriend knits though.

Crowley enters stitching competitions at the local fair. his depictions of handsome-looking ravens in top hats do better than you'd think, but he still keeps losing to goddamn Ambrose with his perfect backs and railroaded stitches and no hoop marks and…

resisting the urge to say that Crewel does crewel. failing.

…okay, but look, he does fashion design in canon, it MAKES SENSE --

Trein is a Good Cat Owner, so (after carefully researching durable and pet-safe materials) he crochets little mice with catnip inside. he gets a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing them get torn to shreds. :)

Sam doesn't partake himself, but he does have weirdly intricate knowledge of every potential needlecrafting technique and the associated tools -- which he just so happens to have in stock now!

like Rook, I do believe that Sam just…knows everything, through his "friends" or otherwise. he could start spouting details about the historic production of goldwork thread, and as long as he then offers to sell something to us while shouting gratuitous English, it would feel perfectly in-character.

you wouldn't think Vargas would be into crafting, but he did spend a week painstakingly painting antlers onto a hoodie for his deer cosplay. magic? pah! he didn't get these muscles by NOT smearing craft-store fabric paint everywhere BY HAND.

(this is also why Crewel agreed to wear the…thing…that Vargas made for his turn at being camp monster. he actually spent time and effort on it and the whole idea was giving Crewel his own personal crisis.)

this got so far away from me, I am so, so sorry

[sweetteaanddragons]

Snippet from "Raise Them Well" Alt. PoV

Having trouble writing this one, so I hoped posting this would help inspire more.

Link to the original story here.

. . .

Tyelkormo was not much of one for drawing, but when he could be coaxed into artistic endeavors, he had a gift for capturing animals mid-motion. Anything stationary had a tendency to be rendered in a few careless strokes, too uninteresting to bother with details.

His latest efforts were stacked on hanno’s desk, intermingled with scraps of Makalaure’s latest songs. Nolofinwe had been straightening them compulsively for the last five minutes; it was easier than looking at Maitimo and seeing his own reflection in his brother-cousin’s eyes.

“Do you remember that picture of my mother I drew for Uncle Ingwion? I wanted to draw yours too, so I asked hanno for her hair color.”

He’d had rather confused ideas on how exactly motherhood worked at the time. It was only then that he’d fully comprehended that death was an aberration, not a prerequisite.

“I remember.” Maitimo’s voice was cautious from its place by the doorway he was still so carefully not-guarding.

They were not, technically, supposed to be in here alone. But no one would care too badly, and it was a day for doing not-quite things.

He would rather be in a courtyard, working through the patterns of his sword, but the halls were so crowded with people rushing, gossiping, preparing, and this had been the first room Maitimo could drag him to that they could trust to be empty of people who would wonder at the shaking of Nolofinwe’s hands.

“I remember Amil talked to us both after,” Maitimo added when Nolofinwe didn’t continue. “So we’d know what had really happened and wouldn’t have to hear it from rumors.”

There was an unspoken question in the way he said rumors: What have you heard? Is this what’s bothering you?

They had always heard rumors. That the old king had been cursed; that it was all Nolofinwe’s fault, all hanno’s fault, all the Valar’s fault, all - 

Always rumors.

“And then hanno came and got you for a lesson,” Nolofinwe said, “and she asked me if I had any questions.” He had not shared this part before. “I asked if it was true that not all of the dead could come back.”

They both knew the answer to that question, though Maitimo had not been there when Nolofinwe had first learned it, and Nolo had never spoken of it since.

“When she said it was, I said that I thought Atar should be the one to stay. That it seemed most fair.”

The word Atar felt awkward on his tongue. He pushed through it, forcing the syllables through; it didn’t matter if he could say it right, as long as he could say it with confidence; they both knew that lesson well enough. 

He would have to get used to the word. Best to practice now.

Especially when it would make it easier not to think of the rest of what he had confessed.

“It didn’t seem right for me to get my mother back, and hanno not to get his,” he said with a lightness he did not feel at all. “I thought we could both have a mother and be missing a father and that would be fair.” Not perfect, but fair, with a childish logic entirely centered on the feelings of those he knew and not on the desires of the people whose names he had most often heard in whispers.

It had suited him, selfishly, because he had not had a mother. He’d had ressë  - holding him, singing to him, helping mold clay into little pots until he tired of the art - but she could not cradle his fea as his mother would have.

As his brother had.

As a child he’d been able to picture how his mother could be added into their circle, nothing lost. But a father -

If the king - his father returned, things would change.

He had known, even then, it was a dangerous thing to say.

"And so perhaps it shall be,” Nerdanel had said. “But it hurts people to speak of it too much, and there is no use worrying over it yet; it shall yet be many long years until anything is decided.”

“I thought it would take longer,” he said, at last setting down the much abused papers with far too much force. He knew it must sound abrupt to Maitimo; he didn’t care. “So many others take longer.”

He looked at Maitimo, finally, and saw just what he should have expected; Maitimo leaning against the bar set across the door, unfairly tall and uncommonly worried, and trying with his slumped posture against the wood to deny both.

Still listening. Always listening until he knew just what word to use to strike.

“I thought I would have a chance to - “ He made a confused, too violent gesture, but Maitimo would know what he meant. He always knew what he meant.

He had grown up knowing he had killed his mother, but that it had not been his fault. Nerdanel had made sure he knew it was not his fault. How could you blame a baby for anything?

But it was his fault, even though he had not killed her. It was his fault because he would be dangerous to Melkor, and Melkor knew it.

He had thought he would have a chance to prove that danger. That Melkor had been right to fear him.

He had thought that when she emerged, he could stand before her and say, I avenged you, Amil. I was worth it.

“I know,” Maitimo said because he could keep no secrets from Maitimo, not really. “Maybe this way’s better. If she’s anything like the rest of us, she won’t just want to have heard you’ve done it; she’ll want to help.”

The words had just a hint of warning to them.

You promised, Nolo. Don’t you dare go running off alone. We do it together, or not at all.

It was how they did everything, of course. The only way. So he let out the rest of his tension with a long breath and bumped Maitimo’s shoulder in apology on his way to the barred door.

“Ready?” Maitimo murmured. 

By the time they slipped back to the rush of the corridor, both their faces were bright and pleased with the news of the royal couple’s return once more.

[silver-pieces]

divine gifts

Pairing: Carol x (afab) gn!reader (where reader is technically an alien, but basically just a human from a different planet)

Word Count: 1.26k

Synopsis: Carol bathes on an alien planet with you as her servant.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, smut (FF, fingering, breast play), bathing, hair washing, stripping

A/N: Day 14 of Marvel Girlfriend May (please don't check the date 😭) is for Carol Danvers 💛🧡❤️‍🔥

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Carol ❊ Taglist

Carol Danvers sinks into the milky water until her breasts are just barely visible, and lets out a low groan of satisfaction.

A flush of heat rises to your face. Witnessing the indecency of the people you serve is nothing new, but she is a powerful warrior - some say a goddess - and to hear a sound of pleasure come from her lips feels like a divine gift.

She beckons you forth with a rough wave of her hand. "Come here."

You walk over, bare feet coming to a stop at the side of the bathtub.

She peaks an eye open at you, and gives your body a once-over. "Hm... still weird."

"Weird?" you repeat, looking down at your servant's nightgown. "Have I offended you?"

She smiles and frowns, somehow at the same time. "What exactly is your job?"

"To serve you."

"In what way?"

You swallow down your nerves. "In any way."

She swirls a petal in the water, and your eyes follow the movement.

"Are you a slave?"

"No, mistress."

"So you want to be here?"

"Yes."

"And if you didn't want to do something..."

"I can say no."

She tilts her chin up to look you in the eyes, her pupils dilating, drawing you in. "Get in here, then."

Your lips part. You pause. Not because you don't want her, but because you do, and that can't be what she means.

She barely broke a sweat saving your entire planet. She's glowing, physically capable, confident, and now that you're this close, you can scent her heady, earthy scent. The others were right - she is a goddess. She can't want you.

But she gave you an order.

You gather your nightgown around your knees and step over the rim of the tub.

The water is warm.

She doesn't move back. Her toned arms rest over the sides of the tub as she watches you slowly lower yourself on top of her.

You perch on her lap, knees planted either side of her, your nightgown billowing. "Shall I wash you?"

Her mouth curves into a smirk. "Sure." And then she leans back and reveals the curve of her neck.

Goddess. It's impossible not to stare.

You cup the milky water in your hands and rise, kneeling over her to pour the potent mixture over her suntanned skin. It's mesmerising, rivulets of water running over her bare skin, over the slight curve of her breasts. You scoop and pour again, more and more, until she is well and thoroughly glistening.

With her eyes closed, her head back, and her shoulders relaxed, there's a sort of peacefulness about her.

"I can wash your hair as well?" you speak softly, scooping up more water.

She looks down at it curiously, brows furrowed. "With this milky water?"

You nod.

"Huh, so you guys have all-in-one, I guess."

"All-in-one?"

"You know, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash." She shrugs.

"What is sham-poo?"

"You know what, never-mind. New planet, new learning curve." She sits up in the tub, water sloshing and biceps bracing with the movement. "I would love for you to do my hair."

"Yes, of course."

She's eye level with your breasts now as you kneel over her, and your nightgown does little to hide your nipples perking out beneath the soft white fabric. It doesn't help things when she lowers her gaze directly to them and stares, as you begin to massage the water into her hair with practised ease.

Her head moves slightly with your movements, but she remains firmly in place, her eyes open and staring straight at your breasts.

It sends butterflies to your stomach, and you can't help the way your nipples continue to poke out, chest expanding with each breath you take, no matter how shallow.

You're not sure when exactly it happens; suddenly you notice she's gotten closer. Her breath disturbs the fabric. You slow your hands. "Mistress?"

Silence. She blinks, millimetres away from your breasts. Her wet hair clings to her, a few stray locks breaking up the smooth planes of her face. “I saved a lot of lives today, didn’t I?”

“You saved all of us.”

“Mm.” She tilts her head slightly, and suddenly you feel her running her hand up your thigh, leaving a wet trail behind as it rises above the water level. “I don’t usually take any rewards.”

“Maybe... you should.”

Her hand stops, right below your hip. “Seems wrong, taking advantage.” She flicks her brown eyes up, locking you in her gaze.

You swallow. “It shouldn’t. Not if it’s offered up to you willingly.”

Her gaze turns molten.

With a surging of water, she takes your hips with both hands and tugs your body down until you’re sitting on her lap. The low neckline of your nightgown is ripped from you seconds later, water running down your bare breasts from her wet hands as she peels the fabric from your body.

“You,” she says, leaning her forehead against yours, eyes lowered to your bare breasts, “You are my reward, then.”

You nod, noses brushing against each other. Her natural earthy scent has blended with the light jasmine of the bathwater, filling your lungs. “I am.”

And with that, she lowers her head to your breasts. A divine throbbing pulses between your legs, feeling her bury her face between them, a steady palm on the small of your back to keep you in place.

You entwine your fingers in her hair and gasp when you feel her mouth close over your nipple. Eyes fluttering, because yes yes yes this is better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You pull her closer on instinct, and moan as you feel her suck.

Her other hand snakes between your legs, beneath the fabric, and without warning she strokes her fingers through the folds of your horny, needy pussy.

“Carol,” you breathe, thighs tensing around her hand, canting your hips. The water sloshes.

She swirls her tongue over your skin. “Take it,” she growls, and shoves her fingers into your needy cunt.

Your head falls back as bliss wracks through you, and you arch your breasts in her face.

She pulls you closer by the small of your back, and with her other hand, two fingers invade your channel with relentless thrusts while her thumb searches through your folds to find your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

“Oh - oh - right there, please don’t stop,” you beg her. You reach out and grip the rim of the tub.

She kisses, bites, and licks a trail up your sternum, devouring you with pleasure and greed as you ride her fingers.

“Come for me,” she whispers against your skin. Goosebumps rise as shivers run down your spine, but your focus is purely on the white-hot pleasure building between your legs. “Give me my reward.”

You cry out, and as she kisses and nips at your neck, you come on her lap. Jolts of bliss wrack your body, your hips canting, her fingers unrelenting in between your legs. She keeps you right where she wants you, arched out in bliss, open and naked on her lap.

As the pleasure ebbs, you become boneless in her arms.

“Mm,” she hums, a cocky smirk on her face as she lays back in the tub, letting you lean on her and recover. “I’m glad I saved this planet.”

“Me too,” you say, panting gently against her neck. “You are welcome back anytime.”

She gives a low, soft growl, her hands roaming along your bare skin, stroking you gently. “I’ll gladly come back again soon.”

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: in which Yandere Skarlet and her darling move back to Earthrealm.

𝕰𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: yandere

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: yandere behaviour, murder, changed plot lines lol, housewife vibes

The situation you were in was… peculiar to say the least. Skarlet wished to finish her life in the Netherrealm and settle with you in Earthrealm. You were definitely cautious towards the entire situation. The loyalty she had dedicated to Shao Kahn was fierce, but as you came to see, the loyalty bled away when she wandered into your room one midnight.

She staggered to your sleeping form, carefully stroking your face. You sleepily open your eyes as she stares lovingly at you. Your grip on your blanket tightens as blood is splattered on her face.

“Shh, my angel. I have found a way for us to be happy. I have hired an assassin to come and kill Shao Kahn. Upon his guard finding his corpse, we shall hide away and abdicate the throne,” she murmurs to you. Blood painted your face with each stroke as your face contorts in thought.

“But… where will we go? We can’t exactly hide with the Kytinn or take refuge with the Linn Kue monks,” you whisper back frightened. She shushes you again.

“Shh my darling. We shall leave and go to Earthrealm, where you used to live. I shall retire my status here, and live amongst you and the other mortals. We shall live as people,” she explains excitedly, pushing your head against her chest. Your heart starts pounding.

“I- I’m going home?!” You whisper to yourself. Skarlet’s claws dig into you slightly.

“WE are going to Earthrealm. I have it all figured out. If your home is still functional, we shall reside there. We can get jobs, and learn to live amongst the mortals. You will teach me how to live as one of you,” she explains giddily, letting you go.

“What do you say, my angel?”

It was incredible having a sense of control back in your life. Despite the fact that your old home was destroyed, you managed to find a dodgy apartment complex that asked no questions. You had to find a job since Skarlet had very… limited… social skills (and life skills in general). She was curious about everything in the apartment. It was honestly kind of cute when she jumped and went to draw her blades when the toaster popped.

Even introducing her to microwaveable meals was an experience. You found she enjoyed darker red meats, and wasn’t too keen on more vegetarian dishes.

She was not keen at all to let you go find work again, not in the slightest. You had to explain to her gently that until she can fully adjust to being a human in modern society, it would be better that you focus on working while she tends to the home. Skarlet was still moody about it, until you said that it can be her way of taking care of you. You explain that she can learn quicker by cooking meals for you both, and keeping the flat clean prevents illness. This perks her up substantially.

She even takes it upon herself to try to learn to write English/your language. She asks you to help her learn, so you bring back preschool books. It offends her, sure, but you have to explain to her that it’s better to start from scratch so she can learn quicker. And learn quicker she does; in the space of 2 weeks, she is filling out the workbooks miraculously quick and with 100% accuracy. She ends up working at a 17 year old level in a month, and after 2 she’s possibly more fluent in writing than you!

The transition for Skarlet from being royalty to a regular person is bizarre. She was so used to people fearing her and respecting her from the sound of her name alone, to having next to no one give a shit about her. She finds it humiliating when you gently correct her about something, going pink every time the toaster pops and she still jumps, or accidentally burns the food.

As much as she gets embarrassed, she adores seeing you thrive. She loves seeing you ramble about your day at work, but clenches her fist when you talk about your coworkers (something you learn to stop talking about). It makes guilt rot in her stomach; if she was struggling here when she came of her own will, how did you feel when you were taken against your will?

It takes a while to find a system that works, but when you do, it sticks. You wake up for work, give Skarlet a kiss as you get ready and go downstairs for breakfast. You choke down some slightly burnt pancakes, give her another kiss and leave. Skarlet cleans up, does some more reading and workbooks, then makes herself some lunch (usually a raw steak). She then busies herself on making dinner, wanting you to have a nice hot meal for when you came back. You come back, give her a kiss and eat dinner, then wash up and go to bed.

Skarlet never knew she could enjoy submitting to someone and taking care of someone so much. She loves seeing you thrive in something that you’re good at, and slipping back into a comforting routine that you can both enjoy.

She is still definitely a yandere. She keeps an incredibly close eye on you, and is still very possessive but she lets the reign loose a lot more too.

[shinjisdone]

Two Humans in the Demon Realm - Fantasy And Nightmare

What if by the time Luz Noceda the human emerged into the demon realm...some other human did, too? However, instead of being joyful of being surrounded by all they love and taken in by a kind and openhearted witch...they are terrified of this place, taken in by the ruler of the realm?

[Basically I watched TOH again and dammit HUNTER SHALL HAVE A FRIEND I SAY NOT UNTIL S2 but NOW I SAY NOW]

BECOMING THE GOLDEN GUARD'S/HUNTER'S HUMAN FRIEND BECAUSE I SAID SO

Part 2 of this

Things seemed to become okayish.

The visits were more frequent and the Golden Guard would come in with different, hopefully tastier dishes to you. "Your little drawings of human food aren't the best, you know." He said as he returned with a plate of hot...moving...algae? When all you drew for him was bacon.

They don't even have bread here *crying*.

Alongside the questionable food he also brought writing utensils, something akin to a magical board and the like. You were unsure and so let him use the majority when teaching him about glyphs.

The Golden Guard would nod and hum before grabbing everything under his arm and excusing himself off until the next time he visits you. At times he seemed to be in a good mood so you assumed he made progress - yet he mostly returned tired and grumpy so you did not try your luck to ask how much progress he was doing and how much of it was actually successful.

You did not even know what he's doing with the knowledge or why he needs it.

Still...being kept in a room out of everyone's sight can be boring...and overwhelming.

You've asked your guard a couple of times if there isn't any other new places to be. Just for fresh air. Or to feel the sunlight directly and not through the window you weren't even allowed to touch.

However, one day after requesting it a couple of times, the Golden Guard halted with you almost bumping into him, spun around and agreed.

Under one condition: You'd go outside of the castle's barriers and into the wild to practice wild magic.

Learning about it by theory was no problem but the Guard couldnt risk practicing any of it on Belos' territory. The punishment would be too severe.

Besides...he won't ever tell you but he's scared of using it. Wild magic is dangerous.

Not that he wants to endanger your life but you have far more experiences with it, so he likes to believe that things will turn out fine if you practice them out. He can stay back with the theories on paper and you can actually cast them.

So clad once again with the humble scout uniform, you made your way - though you feel like you instant traveled or zapped - to an abandoned shore. The sea and cliffs would shield you from unwanted attention.

The Golden Guard is very much aware of what a risk he's taking - but it could lead to an solution, to healing.

He is still doing his job. Looking after you and making sure you don't kill yourself through careless spellcasting of wild magic. Thats what he tells himself at least.

The hours pass by and the two of you were engrossed in the many glyphs and the possibilities they offer. You so effortlessly draw them into the sand, it leaves him a bit impressed.

You finish drawing each glyph that you know. "I'm sure there are many more but the majority are like...basic ones from nature, you know? Light, fire, plants...they seem like any other magic spell of your Emperor's Coven, I don't know what else they could do."

He trotted over with his staff, inspecting the glyphs further. "They can be. I've read about it." He passed you by, letting the end of his staff draw along the sand and connecting your drawings with his own lines. "Magic has layers even when the core is the same. Light is more than just able to see in the dark, it filters through the atmosphere we exist in and can cast shadows - thats already another path that light glyph opens up for you!" You noted how much lighter and higher his tone gets as he jogs around the shore, drawing more circles. "Back then before the Savage Times witches were able to create more spells with their imagination and willpower alone just through understanding each core-!"

His figure froze mid-drawing as his gaze met your quizzical one. Straightening his posture, he cleared his throat and intentionally spoke sternly. "I, uh, read that. It's history 101 here on the Boiling Isles, nothing...crazy. You wouldn't know that."

You can't help but crack a smile. "You sure know a lot about magic even if it can be scary. You must be a master by now, is that what it means to be the Golden Guard?" You smiled and meant it as a compliment but your companion just seemed to shrink, looking away from you. "Magic isn't scary, well, wild magic doesn't have to be. There's an immense, just...pool of unlimited possibilities, its what this entire isle is made of. Magic at the very beginning was just like this, wild, and kind of endless," Halting, he continued in a low tone, "...but it can get out of control, thats why its wild in the first place. If you're not careful, if you don't know what you are doing, people might get hurt and-"

He hit a rock when shifitng his weight. A part of the circle had been cut by his foot and he gazed down at the grande symbol you two created. It seemed like art but he knew it couldn't ever be.

Taking a deep breath he called out louder with his hand shooting out. "Thats why I am the Golden Guard, yes, I'll take care of this, of everything. So stay back, human-!"

One shift of his foot too much and he came in contact with a glyph. The lines glowed a bright green and before he knew it, the Guard let out a yelp as his staff went flying up to the cliffs, getting stuck in the rocks.

"No! No, no, no!" His hands clutched his head. You jogged over to him and offered the lightest of condolences. "We can get it back. Should be easy with, yeah, magic-" Your shoulders jumped up, retracting your finger that was playfully drawing circles in the air when your companion started clinging up the cliff, only to slide and fall down again and again. You called out to him in assurance but had to snap when he didnt stop even when his uniform got ripped.

"Hey, hey, you're gonna get hurt! Just wait a moment!"

"I can't! This staff was given to me by Belos!"

"Just focus and cast a spell to get it back!"

His sudden silence surprised you. The Golden Guard shrunk in himself and avoided your gaze. He stood still for a few more awkward minutes - until you took a deep and loud breath.

"...Can't you...cast a magic spell? Like something with the wind, maybe?"

Once again, he stayed quiet and you took your book in your hands before drawing a circle in the sand. "Here, I'll go get it. I'll stand right here and jump on the vine, you'll just have to activate the glyph for me." Once again, he looked away before you urged him more with a trying smile. "You can do it, Golden Guard."

Without another exchange you took your position. The Guard hesitated as he kneled down. "I..."

Gingerly he grazed the outline with one finger and a small sprout grew - before he snapped his hand back and it died instantly.

Looking up to you - and somehow you could tell that he asked you on the 'how'. "You just touch it," you smiled, "I need it to be big and strong...you said that witches used to do that with willpower and imagination, right? Maybe...we could try that." You could feel his gaze, could tell how his chest heaved but with a deep breath he slammed his hand onto the sand. At the contact the glyph glowed bright, a sprout emmitted and you were quick to jump on the growing vine.

In an blink of an eye, the staff was retreated and the guard slowly imagined the vine becoming smaller and reshaping into a flower - which it did the moment you landed on your feet.

"Here." You returned the weapon that you so awkwardly held, "...That thing seems more unstable than my glyphs - from holding it at least."

You tried to smile for him but he remained silent. Throwing sand over the drawn glyphs, the both of you returned to the castle without another word.

Back in the discreet room, you took off the mask of the scout uniform with a frown. "Hey...I won't question anything of that...instance if you don't want me to."

He snapped his head back at you before slowly letting it fall. All you got were mumbles under his breath.

With yet another awkward smile that you could muster, you pointed towards his scraped skin. "I found some bandages here the other day...we'd best patch that up before it gets infected...if that uh, happens around here." This time however, he shook his head. "I can take care of myself. I don't need...your help..."

Underneath his mask he scowled as his words trailed off. What a lie.

He's pathetic.

Still, you tried to urge him to let you tend to him with sticking plaster in hand. Begrudgingly he let you - a bit unsure still. Even the act of sitting on that bed - which is your bed now (has been for a while...he wonders how long you'll stay) - has him thrown off. The confident aura of the Golden Guard leaving him and letting him down.

You talk about what you still were able to learn today, how in your world, water is connected to healing or seen as healing - after all, magic was fiction in your realm that you saw in "movies"...whatever illusions those might be - so maybe magic including a water glyph might ease his pain (which no, that's not how it works. However...he does not interrupt you).

It makes him realizes he doesn't know much about your realm despite keeping you here so that Belos can learn more about it. But what he does realize that in your strange human way, you were trying to comfort him.

He thinks. He never has been comforted before, not like this. Belos never comforted him like this.

After all was patched up, he was quick to collect his staff and leave yet stopped before reaching the door. "...Thanks..." You heard him hesitate and could almost not believe what he was saying, "...for today. And...for the other time where you helped me...with your wild magic."

A smile graced your face and your eyes lit up in a way that the Golden Guard did not know what to think of it. "You're welcome." Quickly he avoided your gaze. "But don't go overboard. Wild magic is dangerous, you could get hurt. So don't do anything without my supervision."

His attempt at sounding stern didn't go unnoticed but as he left, you couldn't find it in yourself to take it personal.

Things have become...challenging. For him.

He stood there with food in his hand right in front of your door, the illusion spell gone for a moment. In his pocket were a few bandages.

He can return your used ones - then again they aren't yours, they belong to the Emperor as everything does here on the Boiling Isles. Well, you could still have some in stock in case you get hurt with wild magic - which isn't something HE can allow to happen as the Golden Guard!

He groans and just goes in.

In time you appreaciated his visits. The extra bandages weren't...neccessary but welcomed. The dishes he brought resembled your doodles more and were *gasp* actually tasty! You asked him if he spend time in the kitchen and he answers embarrassingly (but at least you cannot see the cuts on his hands).

The Golden Guard liked taking his time with wild magic lessons this time though. The outings aren't this far away anymore but each one was at a different place that you appreciated.

You were more open to tell him of your human world. Of quiet nights, of animals like wolves and how the rain is soothing and not boiling. How humans liked to go swim in the ocean as a pass time! (insanity to him).

You mentioned that he'd get it if he would see it...you hoped you'd be able to see it too.

It was interesting...if not fantastical in his mind.

Even with your frequent meetings with Belos who grew more and more impatient, he always stood by your side. Protecting you even with excuses when the emperor chose harsh words. Nevertheless, the man always tried to be a delight in your presence but you could never truly believe him. He did not make ultimatums or threatened or hurt you...did he pity you because you were human?

You always made sure to thank your guard in situations like these even when he had trouble accepting your gratitude or showing any of his own. You assumed he was never upset by it though.

However, when it came to him he was more than reserved. Any questions of his day, interests, well-being, age or even his name he never really answered. It felt all too compelling to just give up on asking him.

The day started off normal enough. What you learned was normal around here.

The Golden Guard announced that he'd go on a mission right before bidding goodbye after his visits. It will be on the airship...not known to Belos but he will be happy with that he'd bring back. No, you cannot come.

"It's top secret, so just between you and me. I won't be back after bringing in victory so don't try to leave this room - okay, byyyeeee!"

There he was again zapping away and leaving you to kill off your boredom all by yourself. It wasnt until the late evening when crashing and guards stomping by your room was heard. In a panic you rushed towards the wall to eavesdrop.

'Airship' and 'Golden Guard' was all you could hear out by a small, high-pitched voice...squealing over the possibility of his death and taking his place.

Your heart skipped a beat and your throat felt dry. Death? What did they mean with him dying? Taking his place? This - This has to be a joke!

But the demon realm taught you quick that nothing was a joke here. Many things could have taken your life and you were sure members of the Emperor's Coven would be more than willing to be the most dangerous things on the isles.

There was no time to think. Your heart was pounding so hard leaving you with a headache yet you did not stop when putting on the scout uniform nor did you falter when stealing from the Healing Coven's closet. It was terrifying but you did not think about it nor about the consequences that could follow if Belos found out. You could imagine that he wouldn't be pleased when the human got out of his castle.

You refused to think about it or else you might shake in your boots with no power to continue to help him.

Sneaking out you were met with rubble and it confirmed your suspicions. You didn't know how to really find him if other witches were already after him. Making sure you stayed out of anyone's sight, you tightly held onto the bag filled with healing potions. You stumbled through the dark and the debris, falling hard enough to lose your mask - but secured the bottles from shattering.

It's alright, you tell yourself and took a deep breath, you can still hide your ears with the cape.

Other scouts searched the area and suddenly you had a bad feeling about dressing as one yourself. Though beyond the orders shouted out, you heard a high voice not belonging to any of the Emperor's Coven and followed it. Without realizing whats in front of you, you collapsed with another person.

You shrieked but caught the bottles just in time. Whipping your head up, you came face to face with another witch - a boy your age with hair pale blonde, scars on his face and ear and heavy eyebags just under his ruby red eyes.

His jaw hung open with a tooth gap peeking from his lips. He looked at you as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Before he could speak you interrupted him: "Have you seen the Golden Guard?!"

Jumping, he recoiled.

You only stared at him with white panic. "He was steering the airship that crashed here I heard! I, I've got to find him - Emperor's orders!" You hoped he'd take the bait - but only kept staring at you in shock.

In turn you shook your head with a scoff and passed by him yet still stopped and gazed at him over your shoulder. "...You look hurt," Your hand fished out a few potions, "I got these for him but you look like you could use them, too." Without another word you shoved a few potions into his arms and made a run deeper into the debris.

After your figure dissapeared, he still stood there. Beyond the smoke another person emerged through. "Who was that?" Her brown eyes looked worriedly over to him as she adjusted the cape around her round ears.

The blonde frowned before quickly packing the potions out of her sight. "No one. Let's go."

The moment he got back, he barged into your room.

It was long nighttime. You did not sleep, refused to rest your eyes as you skimmed around your book for some kind of glyph that lets you track people. Find their belongings, their status. Anything.

He should've expected it but it still startled him when you rushed over, yelling at him with panicked eyes on where he had been.

The Golden Guard told you the truth - part of it at least and sprinkled a bit of fantasy on it. How he was found and brought back to the castle.

"And what about 'taking your place'?! I saw members of the Coven trying to track you down and..." Your eyes softened, your face grim, "...they talked about getting rid of you."

He looked briefly away from your sullen gaze. "They weren't able to."

"So thats just, a thing that happens here? Scouts and generals wanting to get rid of others for their position?! Thats not normal! Thats something that happened in kingdoms and dynasties and..."

You halt and deflate. Your arms that were wildly gesturing just a moment ago slowly fell to your sides. "...empires."

The Golden Guard assured you while shaking his head. "Listen, I don't know what these are but! I'm fine! I'm fine. You don't have...to worry about someone like me."

"Your airship crashed, thats enough reason to worry - and after hearing the members of your own Coven want you dead, of course I'd come looking for you!"

You saw his shoulders jump. He tilted his head up in surprise and even though you couldn't see it, you were sure he was stunned. It only made you frown more.

"...Of course I'd look for you."

The way you looked at him was the final resolution he believed he needed. A sigh escaped and hit his mask as he avoided your gaze. "...Yeah, you did. You saved me. Thanks..." He saw you straightening your back as your head rose and your face grimaced with a puzzled expression. He bet you must be so confused, maybe hurt - of course you are, you just said it yourself. But still, he put the empty bottles into your hands.

"Human, I have to tell you something..." His voice shook as his hands went up to remove his mask. A gasp escaped you as the same bad but sad boy was looking at you. His blonde hair tussled and unruly as his red eyes seemed to beg you not to he angry. They were bandages on his face which somewhat eased your worries. He was hurt and roughed up but not as much as you feared.

"Why didn't you tell me that was you?" You approached him unsurely and he seemed to back away. He twiddled with his fingers and couldnt meet your eyes. "...No one was supposed to see me. I barely take off my mask anyway, only to Belos. And..." He scowled slightly, "I didn't know what to do. I didn't expect you, you weren't even supposed to be there!"

"I was worried they'd kill you! That was true what I heard, wasnt it? Or is that also a lie?" "I'm not lying to you!" He snapped back with a bit more bite in him, "Kikimora constantly tries to take my place! Thats why it was so weird to see you there with healing potions looking for me! And...I should thank you. I wanna thank you." As quick as his fierce glare came, it was gone again as the blonde shrunk meekly, begrudgingly admitting his fault in a soft voice. "...No one's done that for me before. Not even...Belos..."

You frown was filled with pity. "I figured as much." You softly let out and motioned towards your bed. With hesitancy, he sat down at the edge and you followed to do the same. Now sitting next to him, you hesitated yourself. "Is there anything more I should know?" "What do you want to know?" Looking back up, he saw you glaring slightly at him. "Your name for example. Or are you just known as the Golden Guard?"

"No!"

Your anger was nothing compared to the way he snapped.

But as fast as it came, he slowly shrunk again, turning away and fiddling with his hands.

His voice softened once again.

"...My name is Hunter."

You repeated his name and it left a shiver down his spine. Hearing you out of all people say it is weird, it is all so weird. No one adresses him by his name but you just did as if it were normal.

"Well...it's nice to meet you properly, Hunter." Again, you are acting weird, smiling at him ever so slightly and even if it was forced, it seemed genuine to him. That you'd even say something like that. You even repeated your name as if it really is the first time you two met.

He awkwardly shook your offering hand.

"It's...nice to meet you, too."

"But why are you telling me all this, Hunter?"

His red eyes flickered to the side before a more serious expression graced his face. He took a deep breath before staring into your eyes. "There's something you need to know." He began dryly, "When I was out there, running away from Kiki...I was with someone else. It...was another human, just like you."

Your eyes widened.

"If I'm right, she comes from the same place that you do. I believe she appeared later on the Boiling Isles than you did and she might have the means to return. She is not...a friend, but I can bring you to her."

"There is a way back home?!" Jumping up from the bed, you barely could believe your luck. But it still left you confused. "But...can you tell me even this? I-is that something I'm supposed to know? What about Belos?"

Hunter looked back up to you, his hands tightly gripping his knees. "You deserve to know. You...are the nicest, weirdest person I've ever met. And you want to go back home, to somewhere you belong..." Sadness briefly glimmered in his eyes and they glance back at you, "Human, I - no," Hunter corrected himself by saying your name, "I have to pay you back for all the...things you've done for me. Even if I am just a powerless witch...I want to help you get back to your realm."

You were speechless. Taking a step towards him, you opened your mouth but the next words that were heard were not yours but chirping.

On the window behind Hunter, was a red bird watching you two.

[word-ghost]

Gale is where you left him in the clearing, gaze no longer tilted toward fabricated starlight, but to the barren soil between his boots. The stars are dimmer now, shrouded by swirling wisps of dark clouds.

He doesn’t turn when you approach, but knows you are near. He grits his teeth and draws a sharp breath, waiting for you to speak. You swallow the lump that rises in your throat. Before you find your voice, glaring eyes snap upward to pierce yours. 

“I know I cannot change your mind. If this is what you want—” 

“What I want?” he growls, rising to his feet.

“If it is what you must do,” you amend. 

“Still you speak as if there is an alternative.” 

“I pray one might still present itself.”

“Mystra has—”

At the utterance of her name, your limbs tense. You forget the apology you’ve been circling and burst, “What you did has caused you more suffering than it ever could her. How long did she force you to feed your guilt?”

“I have been offered atonement.”

“What good does forgiveness do a dead man?”

“Then I shall not beg yours,” Gale spits. 

Silence bleeds between you. The tenuous thread of hope that has kept you looking forward slips from your grasp. You might live to see the day the malign darkness lifts from these lands, but he will not.

Your strained voice finally cracks. “Is this the memory you wish to leave me with?” 

He falters, lips parting, though the tension never leaves his brow. 

You stare at each other, dark gazes fixed, oblivious to how the magic changes around you, the only evidence a glint of light in Gale’s eyes.

“How would you rather remember?” He moves a step nearer. You can feel the power emanating from him, tendrils of it encircling you, connecting you to him. All you need to do is recollect. 

From the first touch when you pulled him free of the sigil, when you almost wondered whether you shouldn’t put him back. Learning of his condition, and later its cause, the relief that rushed through you for having agreed to help him. Long, silent stretches poring over books by firelight, searching for the means to survive one inevitable fate, and then another.

Your mind whirls with dozens of small moments over the course of your travels, laughs had, smiles exchanged, even instances of annoyance, in hindsight softened by affection. 

He can feel your panic at the sight of him taking blow after blow in battle, your energy expended to keep him on his feet, or out of an early grave. 

Your thoughts linger on the road south of Last Light. It was only a night or so ago, but enough to fill a tenday has happened since. 

You show Gale himself through your eyes, one moment smiling and the next on his knees, clutching at the cord that tightens around his neck. Using the last of your voice to cast a spell even as your vision blurs at its edges. The deafening calm that follows, seeing him take a breath, though you cannot. 

The moment shifts as Gale takes another step forward. 

His perspective, the dazed instant where he gasps for air and takes in what has happened. You caught sight of the ambush in time to prepare—but you’re surrounded. A beam of dazzling light brightens the surroundings enough to see you clearly. 

There’s a smile in your eyes even as strong arms drag you down by your neck. The monster in the moonlight keeps Gale in place with a strong blow to his shoulder. His cold terror pierces through the pain as you vanish before his eyes, along with your tormentor. 

His growl of rage claws your throats, as he sends bright bolts of condensed energy in all directions, hitting every one of the remaining attackers. Your companions have the upper hand, even as another of them vanishes from view.

Gale’s heart and yours pound with panicked fury as he scours the darkness, mind inundated with imagined scenarios of your unfortunate fate—until your conjured moonlight shifts. In a breath and an incantation, he is at your side. Solace warms your bellies like wine, until you ask why he followed. 

In the space between reality and memory, you move nearer, pushing your thoughts ahead in time.

You tend to his injuries with care, your touch significantly more gentle than your playful barbs. Honest melancholy permeates this memory; to think of this attempt at affection, either misplaced or misinterpreted. 

The Gale in between takes your hand. 

His relief at your safety floods you, melded with a sense of—shame. How many times have you saved his neck, tended to his wounds, lent a listening ear? What has he given you in return, other than the added burden of his own difficulties?

So you show him his smile, the moment he makes you laugh despite the pain you’re in. You let him feel your heart flutter at his concern when his fingers brush the scar on your lips, silently saying the opposite of what he’s told you tonight. 

In the in-between, he mirrors the action. He shows you your flushed cheeks, then barely noticed under the curse’s gloom, and now, more than apparent under an illusory sky that once again twinkles with stars.

[docholligay]

Souvenir

I like people, I think it would be fair to say. Not even in the way you might describe a social butterfly, or someone who is necessarily good with people,* but in the way that someone loves art. I like listening people, I like watching them, I love hearing about what strangers do with their lives, I love eavesdropping on the little bits of people’s lives that they share into the open air and I learn things, constantly, from this**.  

It’s a bit of an odd trait, I guess, and maybe could even be considered nosy, to look at strangers like this, to chat up the gal on the train to Ely***and find out that she was a translator, she’d worked translating a sailing manual, and isn’t that such an interesting thing for people to do? She offered the opening door, and I walked right through it. I will all the time. Every person I meet gets added to a bank in my mind to draw from, for writing, for experiences, for simply lying awake at 3 am and mulling over in my mind****. 

In an actually fairly rare bit of lacking self-reflection, I had no idea that I constantly did this--it is not a calculated act--until Dani pointed it out to me on this trip, that I often make these little connections with strangers for no reason, and that it possibly makes me a good traveler. I had never thought of this. I suppose it’s true, though, that even when I’m somewhere my grasp of the language is, shall we say, tenuous, I have a very open sort of nature that allows me to find those little points of meeting. A conversation with an employee in Cologne, trying to buy tights, and we both ended up laughing, between my bad German and her slightly better English, and many hand motions, we got it handled! It was a very positive and lovely interaction, and though I knew my German wasn’t up to it, *I* was. That’s a mindset thing. 

I like being this way, I think. Not only do I have these small moments, but I also, to creep out anyone who’s ever hung out with me, sort of memorize my friends. When I’m with them, I catch myself looking so carefully at the way their hair moves, the way they phrase things, how they walk and the exact curve of their jaw. How will I call this person up in my mind, later? I have trouble paying attention to things sometimes because I can’t stop paying attention to things. I am a good mental mapper for this reason, and I mentally map people, as well. I keep them, in a way I’m not sure other people do.*****

I do catch myself wondering if they know they have lives, still, in my head? Does Sylvie from British Airways know I think about her smile from the jumpseat? Does Ian the cabdriver know I still turn over his voice in my head? Will the girl across from me on the train know how she lifted my spirits along with hers as she loved someone? Does anyone ever know the thosuand tiny gifts I receive every day of my life, simply by the decoration they bring to my world? In the novel of my life, the background has so much texture, because of all the wonder of each and every person, even the ones I don’t like, bring to it. I am so grateful for all of them. 

I like people. I hope they continue bringing their gifts to me and little weirdos like me. 

*I think we can all agree that sometimes I am very Not That, and that ‘smoothing things over’ is not necessarily a gift I am given (nor do I cultivate it, let’s assign blame where blame is due here) and I can be brusque and impolitic and annoyingly self-assured in any given situation where I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. 

**Just today I learned that sledding is called sledging in the UK, or at the very least in the North, if this gal’s accent is anything to go by and I’m not sucking at broad identification. I know this because she was talking about having enough snow to do it with someone she clearly loves and misses very much, from the way her face lit up as she was talking to them on the phone, and the way she leaned in toward the table as she made plans to meet up for dinner. I teared up a little bit. I love the moments we see people in connection and joy, some of my favorite little experiences in the world. I still think about the day one of my friends got married and she was walking around like a little piece of popcorn in hot oil, and there was nothing ODD or MAGICAL or WHATEVER about that, except that it was the exact kind of human magic I love, where something or someone gives you such joy that you can’t help but show it. ANYWAY. 

***See: Transit for a full explanation of how we all on the train ended up being, if not friends, foxhole comrades. 

****Upon reading this back, it sounds very negative or like I’m suffering, but I have slept in ‘shifts’ since I was a small child, and lying awake thinking for an hour or two around 3 am doesn’t bother me at all. It gives me a lot of time to imagine Haruka in situations and whatnot. 

*****Poetic as this sounds when I make it sound poetic using the power of making myself sound good writing, it might be fairly argued that my brain would be better served to spend a little less storage space on how often my friend wears a particular sweater and a little more on, oh, remembering a box I’ve been meaning to ship for MOTHERFUCKER I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE A PRESENT I FORGOT TO GIVE DANI AND BEL IT’S IN MY FUCKING BACKPACK RIGHT NOW (see??? What I mean???) 

[drippingmoon]

Aquiver, Aglow: Beta Call Post

After being one of the biggest parts of my life for some years now, I'm very very happy to announce 'quiv is ready for its beta stage. I'm gonna echo my previous post: writing this story has been a soothing experience for me, and I'd love for this to apply to everyone. Never heard of 'quiv? No problem, new eyes are often wise. Old acquaintance? No pressure on you. Take a cup of steaming tea, or maybe not since it's summer, lean back and just tell me whatever crosses your mind. Believe me, it will help me enormously. And the stress is all with me, not you. So while I'm asking for help, I truly wish whoever gives me a hand to have a pleasant experience🥰

Sign-up period: till July? I might be more flexible, depending on the applicants, and there won't be any selection (a maximum of 7 people), which means you can start on the day you sign up

Deadline: October (SOFT deadline, since ideally I want to do another round of line edits then proofreading in November), with the possibility of extending until December (and don't sweat it if you need more)

Long story short: a human child restores faith to an angel, who in turn restores faith to Heaven.

Long story long: There's a place beneath Heaven where, in a shoddy little cottage, a mother and her child live. They are to wait for her promised day, when angels shall descend and devour their souls. For faith has been broken. Memories of kindness and warmth remain mere whispers, cracked under two centuries of prayers answered with bloodied chapels and trails of corpses, and callous wings plucking souls out of their once faithfuls' chests.

Tyrone knows his Mother is just waiting for the day the angels will come. She wishes to sacrifice herself to see her child out of the Promised Lands, so she fills his childhood with horrible stories meant to make him afraid and get him used to the inevitable. She succeeds. Tyrone is afraid, but of everything. Most of all, of the loneliness that keeps him company, and disperses only at night. Because, under the stars, he sees an angel on the rims of Heaven, taking care of her field of clouds, a mirror to how he toils over his wheatfield. That’s when he first feels they are the same. So when she falls one day, he asks not that she spare him, but that she stay.    And, slowly, the nights turn so very warm.

It’s been two centuries since the angels knew where they wished to go. They live suspended in time, caught between memory and hatred. Anne, their Angel of Lies, has only ever cared for Heaven. For them, she’d draw their anger onto herself, if only they acknowledged they were still hung up on humanity. She’s tired. She’s old. Even the stars have closed their path off to the angels, and she doesn’t know what to do. So when she is met with sincerity for the first time in centuries, she wonders if she’s found a way. If nothing else, anger would reanimate Heaven, and for a little while stop the angels’ slow fall towards death. She listens to a child’s quiet wish, and agrees.    Curiosity, she calls it.

They begin by using each other. With time, this no longer holds true, and they learn something. It was a thin line between that and caring about one another. And warmth, as it were, comes with sorrows shared.

GENRE: character-driven dark fantasy with humans, angels and stars interspersed with peaceful moments

WORD COUNT: 195k (standalone)

STATUS: sixth draft

WARNINGS: violence, gore, suicidal thoughts, abusive relationships, terminal illness

What I'm looking for

Content criticism, as in character arcs, plot development, your fav and least fav parts, and mainly if you think there are too many feathers in the story

The sky's your limit actually. Every thought counts 🙌

Typically you can ignore typos, but if any of them really pisses you off, feel free to shout at me

Same with line edits. The style is meant to be experimental at times, but not at the cost of intelligibility. So if I went overboard somewhere, please do shout but otherwise it's due a line edit

You get

Return betas! No time limit; and of course no word count limit

To save Private Jan (my penname lol) because there's no way I can afford editing prices, so we're pulling off an Atlas here no matter how many drafts I'll have to go through

Hopefully a great time?

You can just contact me in the DMs, but I'll put up a Google Forms as well for whoever would prefer that. Also, you can request a sample (the first/first few chapters) to see if it's your thing.

And that's it! Hope to see volunteers, and thanks so much for your interest! Have a lovely day🥰

[memekais]

epic the musical sentence starters. the cyclops saga. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

polyphemus

i can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep.

i've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat.

it's almost too perfect, too good to be true.

hey there... we're just travelers. we come in peace.

what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? don't you know that pain you sow is pain you rеap?

time to drink your blood over where you stand.

your life now is in my hand. before i'm done you will learn that it's not so fun to take.

you came to my home to steal but now you'll become my meal.

a trade, you see? take from you like you took from me.

there's been a misunderstanding, we never came here to steal!

now that i see we've done some damage, maybe you and I could make a deal?

i'll give you our finest treasure so long as we leave alive.

one sip and you'll understand the power that's in your hands.

we shall be on our way, no bloodshed in here today.

a trade, you see? a gift from you and a gift from me.

ah, i'd like to thank you. stranger, what's your name?

i'm so glad we see eye to eye.

you shall be the final man to die.

survive

if we're defeated, they're good as dead.

straight ahead, that is who we're fighting.

no backup, no chance for support so draw out your swords. our foe must be thwarted right here and now.

show me how great is your will to survive.

it's just one life to take and when we kill him then our journey's over.

no dying on me now!

we must live through this day so fight, fight, fight!

surround him! attack from behind, keep distance in mind and stay in his blindspot and strike his heels!

don't let him get close, he's strong but he's slow! he can't land a blow if we're out of reach!

stand up and fight for your lives!

you've hurt me enough.

six hundred lives I'll take... six hundred lives I'll break.

when I kill you then my pain is over.

you're dying here and now! escape is not allowed!

you won't live through this day now die... die...!

remember them

we must move quickly; we don't have much time...

mark my words now, this is not the end.

but captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends?

remember them when the fire begins to fade, for the fallen and afraid.

we are not to let them die in vain.

we're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone.

let's kill him!

his body is blocking the path. if we kill him, we'll be stuck inside.

if nobody hurts you, be silent.

have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?

he's still a threat until he's dead. finish it.

what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?

the blood we shed; it never dries.

is this what it means to be a warrior of the mind?

when we met, i led with peace while you fed your inner beast.

remember them the next time that you dare choose not to spare.

remember them. remember us. remember me.

i am neither man nor mythical! i am your darkest moment!

i am the infamous [name]!

my goodbye

you are reckless, sentimental at best.

you've grown soft, your dead friends can attest.

put your emotions aside.

you're a warrior meant to lead the rest.

i don't know where i went wrong but i warned you, and you failed the test so now i'm gone.

this way, you'll know what your place is. this way, you can't cross the line.

this way, you won't disappoint me. this way, you won't waste my time.

consider this as my goodbye.

that's just like you, why should i be surprised? selfish and prideful and vain.

unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.

what's a title that a goddess could lend if i'll never sleep at night?

i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.

this way, you're out of my head now.

this way, you won't plague my life.

when all is done, you're out of sight and out of mind.

close the door and have your damn goodbye.

you're not looking for a mentor i'm not looking for a friend.

i mistook you for a general, what a waste of effort spent!

at least i know what i'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known!

since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone?

one day, you'll hear what I'm saying.

one day, you might understand. one day, but not today, for after all you're just a man.

this day, you lost it all.

[ficbrish]

Part of my Kinktober 2023 one shot collection

"You were my first."

[Ao3] | [Tumblr]

cw: Blood, cptsd, self-hate, alcohol

Tav Vistri, Act I, right after Bite Night

Big moment, that following morning was. Pleasantly enough, none of the others tried to drive a stake through Astarion’s heart upon learning his true nature. Nor did Vistri suddenly change her mind and call for a mob. She even stood up for him. Showed a suspicious amount of understanding.

But that’s how she’d always survived.

A bit of kindness tinged with charm, and lying back, goes a long way.

Astarion seemed the happiest that Vistri had ever seen him. Although, to be fair, they’d journeyed together less than a tenday, and not under the most pleasant circumstances. She’d seen him smile, but not like that. Not like the way he’d been smiling since—

His lips on her neck…

“Augh!” Vistri exclaimed, walking unannounced into Shadowheart’s tent, “I feel like a ripe pile of shit!”

“Were you raised in a barn?!” Shadowheart cried, startled and put out by her new friend’s sudden appearance.

“No, the Underdark—But that’s not important right now,” Vistri answered, too obsessed at the moment to exchange a bit of back and forth, “We don’t have time for an ethics debate.”

“An ethics debate? You just barged into my tent!”

“Because I needed to talk to you!” she explained, as if that answered everything sufficiently.

“I swear, if you hadn’t saved my life…”

“I know, I know! I’m insufferable. Do you have wine?”

“It is just passed sunrise.”

“Yes, and I’m very thirsty.”

Somehow, Shadowheart’s exasperated refusal to indulge her self-destructive habits prompted Vistri to spill everything. How she never felt anything.

How much she felt last night.

“You like the vampire?”

Vistri looked as if Shadow had just spat in her face, and protested, “I do not!”

While she had her crisis at Shadowheart, Astarion was literally skipping through the woods. He couldn’t remember a day where he felt better than he did this morning. With her blood flowing through him, giving back life.

Was this what it felt like to be Vistri? he found himself musing, watching the dapple of shadows dance across his hands as the sunlight trickled through the trees.

Which was a very ironic conclusion for him to draw, considering that she was just now sobbing wildly on Shadowheart’s awkward shoulder.

But Vistri never let him inside her mind despite pushing into his, not after that first initial taste; when they met on the ground in his arms, while his blade pressed into her. Too much was happening then for Astarion to really notice anything, and he only felt a hint of someone else before she instinctually shut her mind off from his. They’d shared a memory, but it was like the directions of a play read aloud, not the feelings of an actor emoted through their eyes.

It piqued his curiosity now that he spent a little time in her company. Had a taste of her.

And like a cat discovering a closed door, he was suddenly possessed by the need to pry it open.

Turns out, things were working out for Astarion better than he could have ever imagined. He could get used to his luck turning around like this. Not only did the rest of his companions accept that he was a vampire without much complaint, Vistri offered to let him feed again.

Before he accepted, it was important for Astarion to make clear that nothing would ever happen again without her say so. He could be better than Cazador ever was—wanted to be better.

“I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.”

Vistri could feel heat rising in her face. Cheesy little comments of his like that previously grated on her nerves, and now she wanted to giggle.

What the fuck was wrong with her? Did she really want him? Could she really… imagine that as a possibility?

“But until then: No more late-night surprises, you have my word on that,” he promised. Rather sincerely, actually.

It was probably due to some vampiric thrall she must be under, but Vistri decided to trust his words. Every night could be its own test, and a sick part of her hoped he’d break his vow. That he’d prove it was all good to be true; show her who she really was. Prove that neither of them were worth it.

“Thank you,” she said, biting her lip, “And if you don’t mind, I have a vow of my own to exchange.”

“Oh?”

“Pushing into your mind… I wasn’t sure if you were going to kill me, but in finding out, I also… That was for you to save or tell. Not for me to find out. Not like that. I swear I’ll never do it again. Not without asking first.”

Astarion looked a bit devastated; shook it off with a smirk, and then said, “We’re even.”

Vistri was taken aback, “Even?”

“I've only tried to stab you when we first met, and bite you while you’ve slept. A little wriggling around with my mind worm… Well, you’re not better than me after all! In fact, you’re just like me.”

She smiled and looked at her feet, “I wouldn’t go as far as that.”

Even the teasing mention of closeness was too much for Vistri to endure, and she hated him for it.

So of course she didn’t want to appear too eager! She waited a whole other day before proposing another late-night snack. Astarion took it to be a reward for his good behavior; not coming back for seconds before he was asked.

The anticipation ate at them even worse after they agreed it would happen that night, and it itched at them all day. Unfortunately, Astarion was a bit of a stress-eater, and quite literally bit off more than he could chew with a large bear that evening before they met up. Draining it just barely replaced what he'd lost, which left him punch drunk and dizzy from his own bloodlessness. Their fun was put off for another night.

Much to the vexation of both.

He didn’t want to wake her that second time, not because he didn’t want her to be present, but because he was doing his best not to be an inconvenience. Vistri wasn’t offended either; he was so obviously sure he was doing her a favor. Oh, but she wanted to be awake for it! Not asleep, not in trance, but there feeling his—

Shit. Bad thoughts! No, no, no.

It was nothing. He meant nothing. She was nothing but a source of sustenance. Vistri had a purpose, and that was that.

She was food.

But then… So was that bandit earlier. Now he was food. Astarion drunk him dry with little grace. Ripped his screaming throat from out of his neck, and the spray went everywhere! Tonight he would gently creep up to her in the dark, at her behest, and take only a little while trying his best not to cause her to stir. It was quite the contrast.

That bandit was a meal. Vistri was a treat.

Then what was this even all for?

Vistri shooed away her curiosity before it meant she had to answer that question herself.

Waiting impatiently in her bedroll, eyes shut tight, Vistri could feel her heart pounding as if it was berating her for their present circumstances.

Oh, hush! she thought, arguing back.

This wasn’t her best performance, pretending to be in the midst of trance as she was. Her focus was elsewhere, searching for his presence through her pores. Her mind froze when Astarion finally began to approach. Even without seeing, she knew he was there; could feel his proximity before he touched her. The very air changed around him, like a storm cloud. Her senses filled with something herbal and sweet, then brandy and heat as his chest crept over hers.

She held her breath, even though deep breathing was the telltale sign of trance. Vistri thought he caught her, sensing him pause for a moment. Then she reasoned she was probably making that up.

But she didn’t. He did pause. Not because he noticed she wasn’t breathing, but because he still wasn’t quite sure this was all really happening. Not just some mad trick of the tadpole.

He swallowed and let himself lean carefully down, until his body pressed into hers. He could feel her heart beating frantically, but in his distraction, it didn’t give her away. Astarion just took it as a sign she was alive. That this really was all real.

His lips met her neck before his fangs. Vistri held back a shiver, taking a deep breath against it. She stifled a moan as one hummed quietly in Astarion’s throat. She could feel it vibrate on hers, neck to neck. Feel her life and power flow into him and through him. Power. Pleasure.

It was palpable.

Astarion’s tongue moved against her skin, swallowing her.

She even lost herself for a moment. As her mind flew blissfully away, her fingers, those sluts, found their way up into his curls.

Her hands grasped the sides of his head. Vistri wasn’t trying to push him away, she just needed to brace herself against the loss of gravity. Astarion didn’t even notice at first. It just felt like part of the whole thing. It was her sudden movement as she jerked them back that brought his attention to her wakefulness.

“Are you not in your trance?” he asked in the crook of her neck.

“No,” she answered with her eyes still closed, “Do you want me to be?”

She was truly the most curious thing to him. Was she pretending to be in a trance to please him? While allowing him to drink from her? Who does that? Astarion smirked, shaking his head, “I thought you’d prefer…”

Vistri opened her eyes and looked into his. She’d been warned her whole life about elves with red eyes.

“No, I—” she blushed, “I mean, it’s quite fun. Is it not?”

“It is?”

Curiouser and curiouser.

She nodded.

“Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“Do you want to-?” Vistri gestured to her neck.

“Right, yes,” Astarion said, clearing his throat. Regaining his cool, he slyly suggested, “Why don’t you crawl into my lap?”

Vistri couldn’t breathe.

Her non-answer was a glorious victory. Astarion could tell he had an effect, a sway over her somehow. He tilted his head back, smiling with confidence, “You do want it, don’t you?”

Lightheaded, Vistri gave in and sat across his knees. Grinning, Astarion grabbed her up into his arms and dipped her dramatically with a slight growl. Vistri giggled, too loudly, and he cupped a hand over her mouth.

He shushed her, “Be still now.”

First, he brought his lips back to her throat. Then his tongue. Then his fangs.

A moan escaped Vistri this time. One, warm hand cradled the back of her neck as he drank from the front of it.

He promised it would be just a taste, and it was just a taste. She didn’t even have to hold him back this time. Astarion stopped on his own accord, before she was ever in any real danger.

When she opened her eyes, Astarion had stars in his. Just a little bit of her, and he was an entirely new person.

Self-satisfied, Vistri grinned, “You’re welcome.”

Sitting up, her head swayed forward like a drunkard and almost smashed into his skull.

“Oh, there you go,” he muttered, steadying her.

Vistri looked up at him, her face so close to his. “I’m okay,” she answered before he could ask.

“Don’t try to get up just yet. You’ll take another tumble, and who knows if I’m feeling generous enough to catch you again.”

“Bastard,” she laughed weakly.

Vistri could smell her blood on his breath. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes so the only thing in existence was the scent lingering between them. She couldn’t imagine liking this so much with anyone el—She shot up so fast, suddenly standing to escape those thoughts.

“Careful!”

Astarion must have been feeling generous because he caught her a second time.

“Oops,” she said, embarrassed.

“You ought to take better care of yourself, darling. I’m invested now.” Funny thing, that wasn't even a lie. He'd never met someone like her before.

Vistri met his grin with performative suspicion, “How heartening.”

Astarion's eyes followed the words as they bounced off her lips. He smiled realizing they were perfectly painted instead of washed clean.

She either swayed or leaned closer. Even Vistri couldn't tell if it was blood loss or an intentional inching of her feet.

“You look a bit peaked,” Astarion said nervously.

“Yes,” Vistri sighed, standing so near, “Off to bed I go.”

Even the air between them pounded. They stayed very still. His breath turned into her breath.

Then Astarion broke the spell, stepping back with narrowed eyes, “Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams.”

But there were no dreams.

Just forbidden thoughts that ran endlessly through their minds, until even their muscles ached.

[nomorefstogive]

PTN SFW Headcanons: Wolverine

Hello my fellow Chiefs, I figured that I would share some of my headcanons for out favorite Feral Huntsmen, please feel free to let me know some of your own and give your opinions on them if you wish to.

That said, let's start, shall we?

Also, here is a link to the Ao3 post if you are curious: Here

1. He had no idea what a Wolverine actually was until the Chief showed him one…he then proceeded to attempt to get one as a pet only to be denied every time, though it did not stop him from trying.

2. He is allowed to leave the Bureau to hunt by the Chief as a means of not only helping add some variety to the kitchen’s stocks but as a means of preventing him from becoming too antsy as a result of being cooped up for so long.

He is of course always being monitored by a multitude of means, though he always comes back, sometimes with some rather…exotic goods, such as a Sand Worm that he had to drag on a small sled and a scorpion he found that was the size of his torso.

Kawa Kawa and Stargaze appreciated having some food from their home, everyone else was not so enthusiastic about it.

3. He attends a special class that the Chief arranged to help the younger Sinners catch up on any missing education, he is a surprisingly decent student in that he is alway attentive and quiet, though this is likely due to the Chief bribing him with extra meat and equipment for his hunts.

4. He has a habit of gnawing on his lips when he is stressed, it can get to the point that he draws blood as a result of his sharpened canines, said sharpening having occurred as a result of a mutation brought about by Mania after he became a Sinner.

It can get to the point he has thin rivulets of blood going down the sides of his mouth, all while he is oblivious to it until it is pointed out. This has resulted in him being given a mouth guard to sleep with and being a frequent visitor of Nurse Anne and Dr. Iron.

5. While he may not understand most of society's norms and standards, and has no real interest in learning about them, he does understand enough of the basics to be left alone for a little while without a supervisor being present, though it is still not advisable for such a thing to be allowed lest someone set him off on accident and wind up with a Pippy thrown at their face and a crossbow bolt somewhere sensitive.

6. He hates mistreatment of animals in any form. If he is going to kill an animal it is because he needs to eat or it was a threat he needed to put down, if neither of these are true and he sees someone hurting an animal then he will be having some impromptu target practice.

7. He supplies Garofano with pelts and hides that he tans himself for her to use in some of her clothes in exchange for her maintaining his own attire for free.

8. He is skilled with not only his crossbow, but also a normal bow and arrow as well as a hunting knife and a hatchet that he keeps with him constantly.

9. He dislikes using guns, he finds them too loud and too cumbersome to be of any real value in his hunts, and besides that they are also a bit too complicated for him to utilize at times.

10. He did not know where babies came from or how reproduction worked until he let slip that he did not know and the Chief told him to go ask Anne and Iron where they came from. They have yet to forgive her for forcing the situation on them.

11. He has become very fond of nature documentaries after seeing one playing on a tv in one of the common rooms and has since amassed a sizable collection of taped ones as well as wildlife books and such, though the Chief had to teach him how to read said books.

All of this has lead to him dreaming of one day creating his own, or at the very least starring in, a documentary about the more dangerous beasts of the Rust, something that Deren and the chief may yet choose to help him with.

12. Pippy has many times managed to get into the vents of the Bureau, and has scared many Sinners and staff alike when it begins to thrash around in the vents as it drags stolen spoils from the kitchen to its makeshift nest near Wolverine’s Cell.

Despite many attempts to prevent it from getting into the vents, nothing has worked and as such a rumor has begun to spread that Pippy may possess a Sinner Power of its own, though there is no proof to back it up.

13. He once got into a boxing match with Zoya in the rec room, though he lost, he fought with enough ferocity to impress the Wolf of Syndicate enough so that she offered him a place in the Legion, though he refused, claiming that he had no interest in working for another gang, Zoya did not take it personally and instead slapped him on the back as she applauded his guts.

14. Another boxing tale has him facing off against Corso in a spar that wound up ending with both of them knocked out and needing treatment, curiously the two seemed to hit it off in the medical bay, perhaps due to Corso and his shared love of animals.

The two have since become friends, and have given the Chief many headaches as a result of them slipping out of the Bureau to not only hunt, but also break up underground animal fighting rings and investigate claims of maltreatment of animals as well.

15. While not a cook of any real renown, he has gained a reputation as making some of the best jerky in all of Dis, enough so that many of the soldiers of the Bureau have approached him in regards to having him make some for their units, alongside of the kitchen staff requesting he teach them how to make it as well.

16. His cell looks like a hunter’s lodge, with pelts and trophies adorning it’s floor and walls, along with his bed being less an actual bed and more a small cave made of mattresses, that the Chief purchased on his behalf with funding earned from his tanning and jerky making, and blankets and pelts.

He likewise has a small projector with a sizable tower of nature documentaries resting beside it, next to an equally large tower of nature books, and a small collection of random objects that he has been given by his friends and the Chief.

17. He is a light sleeper, and upon Dudu being detained, he made it clear that if she did not stop playing her suona, he would find a way into her cell from the vents and make sure that she never performed with it again.

18. He is surprisingly talented at making maps of the areas he has been to, with many of the Bureau’s teams having made use of them during their missions in areas he has already been to.

19. He is a member of a fledgling archery club that has cropped up in the Bureau, to be exact he is in an unspoken competition with EMP for leadership of the club, the pair having never been able to defeat the other in terms of accuracy or rate of fire at the range without tapping into their powers.

20. He is not a fan of flying, and despises being to high in the air to safely land or fight back should the ride be attacked, the same going for swimming as while he has come to enjoy harpoon guns since being introduced to them, much to the Chief’s chagrin, he still finds it too difficult to fight in the water and prefers to remain near to dry land as a result.

21. He can tell real and fake meat apart with just a bite, and even if the taste is exactly the same, he will still become…upset should he find that he has been given fake meat. This came to light during a day when it was uncovered that someone had been attempting to cut costs in the kitchen by using a form of synthetic meat, said attempt ended with them being jumped by Wolverine and other Sinners before they were fired.

22. He is not overly fond of sweet things, though he does enjoy them every now and then, he is more a fan of savory food then sweet, and while he does find combinations of the two types of dishes interesting, he still prefers the dish to be either wholly sweet or wholly savory.

23. He is not fond of rich dishes, not only do they not agree with his stomach, but he personally does not find them to taste any better than the dishes he himself knows how to make, and if anything he finds them to be worse despite the seasoning and techniques used to make them.

24. He is very good at detecting whether or not someone is dangerous, the Chief having come to know that if he is relaxed around someone then they are not a real problem, while if he is tense or uneasy then it is time to be on guard.

The few times he has displayed outright hostile or fearful demeanor of someone, has been in the presence of people like Nox and Dreya (Fear), and Coquelic and Shalom (Hostility), and has been a herald of trying times to come with dealing with these people.

25. As a gift to the Chief, he made a necklace of bones taken from some of his more dangerous hunts, that no one could identify just which beast the center piece, a small skull with multiple eye sockets and a seemingly vertical mouth, only made it more ominous.

Despite the uneasy feeling looking at the necklace gave them, the Chief still accepted the necklace and had it set in a display in their room, something that Wolverine still brags about to this day.

26. He is the embodiment of a ‘Ride or Die’ mentality when it comes to his friends. No matter what happens, they can count on the hunter being there to bail them out in his own way, typically involving a tactically launched pippy aimed at the enemies genitals and a crossbow bolt hellstorm raining down on their foes as he comes to the rescue.

27. He once came back to the Bureau after a particularly deadly hunt with grievous wounds and a claw the size of a normal man’s forearm lodged into his shoulder blade. Despite being in an extreme amount of pain, he was smiling as he told the Chief that he finally found a worthy prey in whitesands.

That the claw was confirmed to not be from a Corruptor, did nothing to lessen the Chief’s concerns over just what kind of monster Wolverine had encountered.

28. He is forbidden from being anywhere near the driver’s side of a vehicle after an incident involving a car, a mall, Pippy hanging on from the antenna of the car, and a thoroughly terrified Chief shooting out the back window at a gang of motorcyclists that were shooting at them.

The specifics of that mission have been classified by the Bureau, partly because of sensitive material, and partly out of second hand embarrassment over what happened that day, though there are rumors agents from the Ninth saying that they had finally found a worse driver than their own director.

29. For his birthday, the Chief took him on a hunting trip with Corso and a few other Sinners, the day ending with Wolverine tucking himself into his small cave with tears of happiness leaking from his eyes as he looked at a group picture that had been taken at the end of the celebration.

All of the other presents, aside from the deer they had caught, while still wonderful, seemed to pale in comparison to that picture, as he looked upon it till he fell asleep with Pippy in his arms.

That's all we have for now, let us know what you think about them and share some of your own if you wish.

Till next time, take care and stay safe all, and pray that we are given a happy event and some happy moments for all of our Sinners and the Chief in the future, we deserve it at this point lol.

[andthebubbles]

Back again with another dilemma, would you rather: have Anthony taught how to draw some pretty pictures, or make Benedict learn how to do the Bridgerton accounts?

They'll be each other's guide either way, and might find it rather distressing (at least to start with).

But there's no quitting after just one lesson; they've got to sick with it until they're somewhat proficient!

They anxiously await your verdict...

well well... another drabble... i have put it under a cut in case it is rubbish so i can keep slowly editing it, if i can be bothered :D

It starts when Anthony announces he intends to marry that season.

"Learning to draw and paint is attractive to young ladies," Benedict says, sidling into his study after dinner, "or so I hear."

"So is being able to manage the household accounts," Anthony bites off, clearly in one of his moods. "Hence why I have called you here: I will teach you what you have to know, such that when I make some young lady my Viscountess and you will all have to move out, you will not be caught unawares. I have made some annotations--" He opens the books, and Benedict's eyes widen at the notes pencilled into the margins and every blank space available.

"I will only learn to manage finances," Benedict says before he can get too carried away, "if you will learn to draw and paint."

He thinks Anthony will never take him up on it. Anthony has no eye for art or beauty--though perhaps he had once, so long ago that even Benedict, who has known him the longest save their mother, has forgotten.

Anthony, as he has also apparently forgotten, does not like to lose.

"Are the young ladies these days truly so taken by one's artistic skill?" Anthony muses, eyes narrowed.

"Or lack thereof," Benedict says under his breath. "So you do not need to--"

"Very well." Anthony jerks his head towards the chair on the other side of his desk. "Sit."

"Brother," Benedict protests.

"Sit."

Benedict sits.

"You will teach me how to draw and paint, and I will teach you how to manage the accounts. Yes?"

Benedict splutters. "I hardly think--"

"Yes?"

Benedict winces once he realises that Anthony isn't going to give up so easily. And he, unfortunately, as the second-born, easy-going to all his older brother's sharp edges and prickly grumpy cat persona, is.

"Very well," he sighs. "If I must."

"You must." Anthony starts to grin; a welcome, rare sight. "Shall we shake on it?"

"No. Let's drink to it." Benedict nods towards the decanter, another regretful sigh escaping him. "God knows I need fortification."

Anthony chuckles and tops his glass up to the brim.

[shirefantasies]

Hello!

I don’t know if your matchup requests are still open and if not you can totally ignore this, but I was wondering if I could get a Lotr/The Hobbit matchup (preferably male).

A bit about myself:

Female / 5’7 / eneagram 6 / Gemini

My top two love languages are quality time and acts of service.

In my spare time, I love to read and write. It is a great passion of mine, and I hope to make something of it one day.  Sometimes I journal as well. 

I love to be outside in nature because it allows me to unwind after a long day. I also really like going on walks while listening to music in the mornings.

I do have a horrible habit of getting so wound up in projects that I forget to rest both mentally and physically. Taking care of mental health has been the primary struggle, but I have gotten better at it over time. 

I prefer to be kind to all I meet, but sometimes my desire for justice gets in the way.

I also really like watching people do an activity. Sitting in silence watching someone else do something they’re passionate about is very healing and cozy for me.

My personal aesthetic can be described as vintage-inspired; think long skirts and blouses. I love brighter colors such as pink and lavender, but I don’t mind darker tones on occasion, especially when the season calls for it. 

Some other things that I like are sunsets/sunrises, animals of any kind,  warm beverages like coffee or tea, a clean space, collecting gemstones, candlelight, and soft blankets. 

Things I dislike are bugs, getting rained on (I love the rain, don’t get me wrong, but the sensory experience of having rain fall on me is not ideal), large changes in plans, people talking too loudly, and just rude people in general.

Again, if your requests for matchups are not open, feel free to ignore this, but I thank you for taking the time to read this. 

Have a wonderful/blessed day, 

-Finn

Heck yeah! I opened them indefinitely since I wasn’t overwhelmed with them :))) your Middle-Earthly match is…

Our Boy Lindir :)

Returning to Rivendell on errand from Elrond, you are met with one of his most trusted confidants, another finely dressed brunette elf who greets you with a smile. “I wasn’t warned of any visitors,” he jokes, giving you a charming look, “who might you be?” “Finn, they call me,” you dismount and curtsy as your horse is taken away, “and I come for an exchange with Lord Elrond, if you please. If he is on business, I can-” “Stay, please,” the elf bids you with a sweep of his hand, “we hardly call ourselves the last homely house for nothing. If you can wait until after supper our lord shall be happy to make your audience.”

Easily you can, thus you are granted a room and a meal with the elves, where you are sat with none other than Elrond himself. Lindir, the elf who had greeted you, stands at his side, and you smile at him. Clear as it is that he is not partaking in the meal, you find yourself drawing him into the conversation once the discussion of your craft ends. The…servant perhaps? appears surprised to learn you are a collector and dealer of gemstones. “Don’t worry,” you tease him, “I don’t mine them myself too.” Supper goes well, your deal with Elrond for the gemstones he needed happily closed and yourself quite charmed, both by the fact Rivendell’s lord is making jewelry for his distant wife and by the gracious hosting of his servant.

Offering to walk you back to your room under claim of his home being quite the labyrinth, you ask Lindir how he finds his duties and what the most difficult part is. Simply put? Rude patrons. Your own distaste for the impertinent gets the better of you, and soon the pair of you are swapping stories outside your door. Laughing far louder than you’d have thought allowed in the great ornate settlement. Soon darkness overtakes the hall, however, and pressing a kiss to your hand, Lindir bids you a good night. It hardly escapes your notice the look of scandal across his own face, but in your kindness you choose not to address it.

Sunrise over the Valley of Imladris is one of the most majestic sights to ever pleasure your eyes; sipping the warm cup of tea another early riser shared with you, you glance beyond the spill of golden light to see Lindir making his way to set a harp near the tables. “Getting the players ready this early?” Shaking his head, he confesses the sunrise inspires him, inspires him so that he enjoys rising with the sun to compose songs. Lightning up, you carry your teacup over his way and share your own love of composition. Soon even the gorgeous sunrise fades as you are lost in song, melody overtaking your ears as Lindir sings a poem you’d penned on your travels. His passion is nearly palpable, flooding your heart with comfort and joy and all the same warmth of your invigorating tea. Passage of time utterly forgotten, your musical moment is only interrupted by Lord Elrond’s entrance and passing, quite amused, comment that you two are quite an unexpected gift, are you not?

Heat rushing to your face, you excuse yourself to attend to your jewelry-making. Once again, minutes or hours may have passed when a knock sounds at the door of your lent workspace. Stretching and wincing at the unpleasant pop, you stride across the room on shaky legs to open the door. Lindir! “I…I apologize, Finn, but we were rather concerned when we were told you hadn’t emerged again.” Raising the tray in his hands, one lain with a light meal and drink, he smiles. “We appreciate your work for Lady Celebrían, but please don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.” You could have kissed him then and there, but you waited a week until your departure, goodbye making the taste of his soft lips that much more bittersweet.

More and more frequently do your journeys take you back to Rivendell until the day comes that Lord Elrond himself appoints you his craftswoman…and winks as he inquires that you have more than just a home to return to now, do you not? He knows the trials of love between elves and mortals just as well as he knows it is a choice made freely.

Lindir honors that choice day after day, always appearing as if with prescience that you’ve thrown yourself into your work again. Sometimes you slip into sleep there in your space, awakening with your favorite blanket draped over your hunched form and a cheeky note inviting you for a morning stroll when you’re up for it.

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