#the only thing i liked about my last attempt were my colour choices those were solid

[dovalore]

simple diagram of my wol and his carbuncle

also some updated info on him since a lot has changed since the last time i talked about his lore

he's at least half viera and has like, 8 other siblings who are also at least half viera

the scar going across the bridge of his nose was from a wound he sustained during That One Fight in stormblood

not pictured are his little fangs he likes to bite specific people with

dovae's tail is so long and fluffy he curls it into a swirl behind him when he's not active. it uncurls when he's in battle or otherwise particularly active

he's incredibly meticulous when it comes to his physical appearance, he prides himself on being well-groomed. especially his tail, he enchanted a brush specifically to help him keep it free of matting

brick is still brick, absolutely nothing has changed about him except his power level, which has only increased

[another-corpo-rat]

Dress For The Job You Want

A discussion with the lovely @merge-conflict put this idea in my head, and learning that their dear Valentine is a gremlin at heart was something I absolutely had to subject Victoria to (she deserves it tbh)

Incredibly minor Adam Smasher/OC at the end Summary: Victoria chooses fashion, Valentine chooses violence. (Valentine ofc belongs to @merge-conflict, ty for trusting me with your gremlin and helping me think of a way to end this!)

.

There’s a time for delicate words, when nerves are frayed and tempers are rising, fingers on triggers and daemons primed to bite – knowing what to say and when to say it was an important skill in the life of a suit. It could mean the difference between life and death. But this? This was not one of those times.

This was an insult against any higher power that might bear witness. It was certainly scalding the back of her own eyes, threatening to blind her. It would be a mercy if it succeeded.

“What,” she starts, tongue heavy with sincerity, “the actual fuck are you wearing?” Her tone has their attending salesman take a small step back, cowering somewhat as they hunch their shoulders and try to seem occupied as they scroll through the datapad of everything else they have in stock. There’s a tremble to their fingers, notable as they move quickly across the screen. And Valentine, the target of her ire, the individual currently dressed like a sentient traffic cone, grins brightly as she outstretches her arms and does a little spin – without needing prompted this time.

As if she was proud of the abomination she had conjured and its too many shades of orange and- dear God. Was that a sequin belt?

“I quite like it.” The other states, that grin taking on a distinct shit-eating quality as she regards herself in the full-body mirror. It gets wider when she meets Victoria’s dour expression, catching the none too subtle twitch of her left eye and the disgusted curl of painted lips.

“It’s…it’s certainly bold—” Any attempt of praise from the sales-jockey, desperate as it was to find something vaguely positive, is stopped by a sharp gesture of Victoria’s hand, fingers making a soft ting as they snap against the metal of her palm.

“There’s a thick line between boldness and stupidity. And you have...” Another cast of her golden gaze, eyes clawing through Valentine’s attire for the smallest thing that could perhaps be savoured. She found none. “soundly pole-vaulted across it, my dear. Next.”

Her glare is focused steadily, line-of-sight broken only when the curtain of the changing room is pulled across. A glimpse of the glint in Valentine’s eye promising to turn a mild headache into a migraine. Ugh, another self-chosen outfit then.

Curtain closed, her gaze and ire turn to the man standing beside the rail of clothing they had requested. A majority of it were her own picks, fashionable enough pieces that quietly demanded attention through the mere act of stepping into a room, but now that she’s looking she can spot more atrocious colours and materials that were most certainly not her choice.

She absolutely should not have handed Valentine the tablet to pick out a few for herself, it was the other’s lack of basic knowledge that convinced her this trip was necessary in the first place. “We need to have a thorough discussion about what you offer your clients.”

“I am currently removing the pieces that they were…kind enough to model for us.” Ah, that explains the hurry to his actions. He clicks through a few more things on the tablet, brow furrowing at what she guesses was an infestation of terrible stock choices. “Last spring’s obsession with orange was a mistake, to put it lightly.”

“A blessedly short-lived one.” A disaster she had the sense to side-step. She’ll stick to her whites and golds, thank you very much.

A sharp laugh comes from behind the curtain, the loud ‘Ha!’ has Victoria pre-emptively pinching the bridge of her nose even before Valentine throws the heavy fabric to the side with a gusto she certainly didn’t have for the earlier outfits. She closes her eyes against the sight that is certain to be blindingly horrific. The sharp intake of the man assures her it was the correct decision.

“I don’t even want to look at you.”

“Why not? I think this one really compliments my complexion.”

“So would coating you in tar and feathers.” Rubbing at her temple, she chances a look up and— “It suits you.” She admits begrudgingly and apparently to Valentine’s surprise, that smug grin loses a little bit of tooth.

“What?” She can see the other’s shoulders lowering, a little edge of disappointment seeping in from the lack of violent disgust. Valentine considers herself in the mirror, hands on hips as she evaluates her choice of mixing a spotted yellow-green shirt with pink-blue striped slacks. She meets Victoria’s narrowed stare through the reflection as she presses, “Really?”

“Yes, you absolute clown.”

And the terrible grin comes back in full, dragging a headache along with it.

God help her, she booked them for an entire afternoon of private fittings.

.

It wasn’t often that Victoria allowed herself to look so openly defeated; curled loosely into the corner of the settee with hazy eyes, half sunken into its shitty cushions with the mere act of lifting the cigarette to her lips seeming tiresome, heavy in an effort she was extending out of habit than any true want.

“Victoria.” She blinks at the low tone of her name, looking up to the behemoth of a ‘borg towering over her. “You look like shit.” She knows she does; she can’t even argue for the sake of being contrarian, so she sighs and quietly accepts his astute observations as she turns to press herself deeper into the horrid cushion she had claimed.

At that, Adam’s tone becomes sharper, demanding; “What the fuck happened?”

“Valentine happened.”

“Ah.” And that’s all he offers on the topic of her, or at least all he does for now – his own rants about Hanako’s new little pet were a dime a dozen when he was in a mood himself. The settee dips and groans dramatically under his weight. “I’ll be sure to think of you when I kill her.”

She manages the slightest twitch of her lips at the easy promise, neither of them bringing up his failure to do so in Mikoshi. “Thank you, love.”

[absolutesort]

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨   ;    ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴜᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #6 !

how are you feeling in your decision to couple up or stay single ?

 “ i made the right choice. i stood by it at the fire pit, and i still stand by it now. ”  there’s a fired up energy about her, fresh off the back of some latest conspiracy that she’s the cause of. she’s pushed the chair against the back wall, and is alternating between pacing and sitting as she attempts to organise her thoughts. “ people keep telling me that i don’t know what i want, or that i’m leading miles on, ” people is clearly angel and callie coded, “ or that my head’s so far up callie’s ass that he’s gonna move on and kick me to the curb. but i know know what i want now, and it’s him. because i’ve had doubts with callie in the past, about whether we were moving too fast, about whether we want the same things, but i’ve never had those doubts with miles. and maybe that’s because we spend more time goofing off than we do talking about heavy shit, i don’t know, but i don’t have the same stress that i have with callie. it just feels easy with him, and i want something easy. i shouldn’t have to convince someone i’m worth fighting for, they should just know. ”

are you happy in your couple or do you think your head could be turned ?

“ i think i’m as happy as i could be, considering the messiness of the situation, but yesterday cleared up a lot of shit for me. i didn’t realise how much energy i was wasting thinking about something that was dead on arrival.  it kinda feels like this new thing with miles has been hanging in limbo waiting for me and callie to wrap things up, and now that’s done it’s like this weight’s been lifted off my shoulders and i don’t have to tip-toe around it any more. i’m not looking to have my head turned. i dont see anyone walking in the door who i’d get on with better than i do with miles. i think the only person who could have made my head turn is callie, and she’s made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with me, so no i don’t see my head turning, and i don’t want it to. i’m super happy. miles gets me, we have like, this shared secret language, almost. adela said it’s gross to be around, but whatever. she’s jealous. ”

what are your thoughts on seb & bash & rhys’ exit last night ? why did you vote the way you did ?

“ we picked dylan and adela because of the two couples stood there, they were the only one that was an actual couple. sure, rhys had someone else, but it wasn’t about rhys and seb vs. adela and dylan, it was rhys and bash. honestly, i didn’t think that seb would walk. i thought the whole boyfriend shtick was performative, but clearly it wasn’t. i didn’t think seb would walk, and i didn’t think he’d be a total dick about it, but i’m still sad to see him go. rhys, too, he was a nice guy. and i’m always gonna think about bash when i have a peanut butter & marshmallow sandwich. it sucks, obviously, but it is what it is. ”

out of everyone left, who would be the hardest person to see go ?

 “ miles. ”  she sighs, lips pursing at the thought of him, suitcase in his hand.  “ like, i don’t know if i’d pull a seb if he left, but i know that i wouldn’t want to be here if he wasn’t. obviously his concubine josh, too. i think if josh went we’d both go into mourning, get the black arm band and everything, start listening to death metal and reciting bad poetry in the beach hut, which is crazy because when i was watching it at the hotel before i came in i was like, this guy’s a tool. i’d miss dylan, too. he’s one of my best friends in here, and just like, my rock, y’know ? my dwayne the rock johnson. and yeah, i’d miss callie, too, despite us having had a rough few days. it would feel weird being here without her. ”

who seems like the strongest couple right now and why ?

“ me and these cushions i colour-coordinated with ! ”  frankie laughs, considering the question for a second, tongue running over her teeth. “ nobody seems solid right now, honestly. but based on conversations i’ve had with callie, i feel like it’s her and angel. it sounds like he’s ready to like, be all-in and stuff which is great, because callie deserves someone who can give her that, and she’s ready to be fully focused on him, too. i just hope they’re happy together. i genuinely do mean that. ”

who seems like the weakest couple right now and why ?    

“ naomi and charlene. ” that feels like pretty low-hanging fruit, but it’s the truth.  “ i mean technically they’re coupled up, but she’s clearly patched things up with josh, so... yeah, i feel bad for charlene. like why bring someone back if you’re just gonna immediately jump ship ? she seems like a super cool girl. maybe marcus will get to know her. ”

[bonesandthebees]

Okay, so I have caught up on No Time Confounds Me. (yes I’ve been reading a lot lately, I’m sick and I don’t have classes so I don’t really have shot to catch up on and I was kinda ahead of work before I got sick so I’m fine)

Anyway, normally I don’t read vampire stuff, I tried reading Nocturnal Animals and I got 3 chapters in and it’s really cool but my brain just isn’t slotting on so I doubt I’ll finish it. (In my defence, I already know how it ends so *shrugs*) My point is, I really enjoy ntcm. I love the world-building and the niche little interests (or is it the aesthetic? Like the drawing on the shoes and the pins.)

You are once again doing and amazing job with foreshadowing. The new vampires at the blood bank are Phil, Techno, Quackity and Schlatt. Tommy knows a lot about vampire stuff because he is one. Running away because you allegedly accidentally stole someone’s Claim would be a good enough reason to down half a black coffee in 1 go. The constantly being watched but only when Tommy is there so maybe Schlatt already knew, he just needed Wilbur there too. The news Wilbur manages to catch is about Tommy turning Tubbo. Tommy Claiming Wilbur as his brother because he Claimed him. Tommy’s attempt to dye his hair brown to be less recognisable. (Though if you don’t want to be found, bright blue is a terrible choice, Tommy!)

Most of these are little things that might stand out but can be dismissed and then they suddenly slot into place. Like you have a long build-up but I’m sure if I were to read it again that everything would make sense. Like it’s that writing thing where everything you write has to have a purpose. Seemingly random scenes all have a goal or make more sense when you get more information and it’s so cool to see you do that!

Also, I say allegedly accidentally, but unless his parents died by gunshot, I’d say the chance is pretty high Tubbo did get shot. That’s why Tommy jumps in front of him whenever he hears one because if he had done that for Tubbo he would not be in this situation. + the trauma of watching your friend bleed out and being faced with their mortality would make Tommy worried about losing Wilbur.

Also also, I am terribly worried about Schlatt, but I assume that of he were to purposely turn Wilbur against his will in some way it would go back to being a violation of human law (and there would probably be a lot of witnesses).

Also also also, (last one, I promise) does eye colour define strength? Does that mean the Phil and Tommy are stronger than everyone else or is there some other meaning?

-🌲

HI SPRUCE i'm so glad to hear you're enjoying!! I'll get to your stars asks soon I promise, but I'm saving them for after I finish no time bc answering those will help me get back into the stars headspace lol

in the meantime though, I'm thrilled how much you like ntcf so far. the aesthetic is my favorite part ngl. I always loved the pacific northwest aesthetic vibes combined with a lowkey punk look (ie: wilbur's leather coat, combat boots, pins) so it's been a lot of fun for me to set up scenes with that imagery and all that. I also love including small details like wilbur drawing on tommy's shoes and stuff. it just makes the world feel more alive to me.

you picked up on all the foreshadowing!! yup you got that exactly right. I was trying to make the first chapter seem like a normal relaxed vibey slice of life type fic, but with something obviously wrong going on in the distance.

also fun fact actually if you're trying to disguise yourself it's sometimes better to stand out. the point of a disguise isn't to blend into a crowd, it's to look like someone else. (I learned this from watching a youtube video with the CIA's former Chief of Disguise lol). so yeah, tommy trying to dye his hair blue wasn't necessarily him trying to blend in, it was him trying to look like someone who wasn't Tommy. but as I'll probably mention offhandedly in the next chapter, vampire hair is a bit different from human hair molecule-wise so vampires need special hair dye to change their hair color. hence why tommy's dye attempts turned out so shit lol

the thing about the Good Samaritan Law regarding Turnings is that it's really a legal bullshit loophole. if there were no other witnesses around besides the vampire and the person being turned, no one can prove that it wasn't a life threatening situation. so almost every single time without fail a Turning will get excused by the good samaritan law. also, a vampire will very rarely turn a human unwillingly because again the newly turned person can just turn them in. so the issue isn't turning people unwillingly. the issue is that it's illegal to turn humans at all even if they consent. the only time it's legal is if the person is literally on their deathbed. since vampires are immortal, the government wants to limit their population growth for obvious reasons. but again, it's such a loose law that all you have to do is make sure there are no other humans around when a turning happens and boom you can claim they were dying.

no eye color doesn't define strength. the eye color thing is literally just based off what eye color you had as a human. phil and tommy both had blue eyes, so their eyes get lighter and turn a more silvery color. techno, quackity, and schlatt all had brown eyes, hence why their eyes turn gold. being a vampire just lightens your eyes and makes them kind of shimmery, so it's just dependent on what your original eye color was and nothing else.

ty again so glad you're enjoying!! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. I wanted it done to post today but I only got halfway through it yesterday sooooo oops. I'll try to finish it as soon as i can.

[purplesurveys]

1890

Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? I might, but I'm not able to remember anyone specific right now.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? We did it once when we were in Ilocos, yes.

What’s the weather been like today? The crazy April-May heat has subsided a little bit, but we're left with humidity which is just as nasty so I'm still a complainer lol.

What was the last exam you sat for? Not an academic exam or anything like that, but I had my medical exam earlier this year.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? Angela and Hans', but that won't be til late next year.

Do you currently have any unread text messages, and who from? I'm sure I do. I wanna say half of it is from scammers, the other half is work-related that I haven't been assed to check.

Speaking of text messages, what colour is your cell phone? It's blue. Not my first color of choice because I never really wanted a colored phone, but at the time I needed a new phone (my old one had entirely died on me and being picky about color wasn't an option) and the best shop I could find only had the iPhone 13 in blue lol.

Do you live anywhere near the woods? Nah.

Would you ever consider a career in the tourism industry? I've fantasized about what it'd be like to be an airline stewardess because I really find their day-to-day super interesting, but I don't know if I can shift my career towards it. I'm too focused on where I am to consider it at all.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Trigger warning: Suicide. There's my birthday, there's June 13 for BTS, there's April 7 which I simply refer to as my Life Anniversary since that's when I decided I'd be a fan of the boys and subsequently be saved from the s* I was planning later that month.

When was the last time you used q-tips? Around 3 nights ago.

How does your hair react to humid weather or rain? It's super frizzy, so I always have to tie it back when it gets humid.

What’s your favourite flavour of iced tea? Lemon.

Do you understand music theory? I don't know the first thing about it.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? I slept early because the day before was SHIT and I just wanted to disappear. That said, I want to say I slept for 11 hours.

Are you expected to act professionally at your job? Aren't we...all? It's a job.

Infomercials: entertaining or stupid? Entertaining precisely because it can get so stupid.

What’s your favourite brand of energy drink? I don't drink those.

Do you have (or have you ever had) acne? I've had them.

When was the last time you got pins-and-needles? I usually get them when waking up :/ I don't move a lot when I sleep, so when I do get in a certain position in-sleep I could be stuck in it for hours. That said it's usually either one of my arms that gets the pins and needles, and when I wake up there's like one full minute where I don't feel my arm at all and any attempt to move it I only get a jelly response from that arm haha.

Why did you click to take this survey? I didn't click it, it's just archived in my Likes and this was the next one on my list.

If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? Accidentally, yes.

How do you get new music? Buy or download or what? I've used Spotify since like 2014.

Do you require a lot of time to do things or are you quick? It depends on what needs to be done. At work I've been told I'm quick on my feet and get things done in a snap...I know I'm not the same in every situation, though.

What will be the next concert you attend? Nothing lined up anytime soon. I really want it to be BTS though? I hope my friends and I can snag those damn tickets because it will be a stupid bloodbath for sure.

Turn the nearest television on, what’s on? It's currently on; I have a replay of BTS on You Quiz on the Block. Terrific series of interviews that I never get tired of going back to.

How often do you “wake up on the wrong side of the bed”? Tbh never. I make it a point not to. I absolutely dread the idea of starting work already in a sour mood.

Can you rap? I memorize several rap verses/songs but that doesn't mean I can rap, so no.

What do you usually order when you’re at McDonald’s? Plain double cheeseburger (meaning no pickles, no onions, no ketchup, no mustard), large fries, and coffee.

Are there any textbooks near where you are right now? Nah.

What’s the time? 9:52 PM.

Do you know how to use a DSLR camera? Only when it's set to automatic which barely counts, lol. I don't know how to take good photos if I otherwise need to set it manually.

How’s your body temperature right now? No idea and I have no thermometer nearby, but I'm assuming it's well below 37.5C since I don't have a fever.

Do you use Celsius or Fahrenheit? Celsius.

What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? I mean I got a discount from the vet earlier hahah so that's always great.

Have you ever studied any ancient societies? Sure. Nothing in-depth, but I like to read about history from time to time on my own.

Do you like to wear long, dangling earrings? I would enjoy that, but I can't do it. I tore my piercing years ago and I haven't been able to wear earrings since haha.

What was the last reason you took medicine? Horrible horrible horrible headache.

Do you exercise regularly? No.

What is your coffee of choice? (flat white, cappuccino, etc.) Caramel macchiato for the most part, but Starbucks has this mouthful of a drink that's been my usual – the order is literally called brown sugar soy milk iced shake espresso. I hate the name, but it gets the job done for me hahah.

Do you pay any attention to your country’s politics? Yeah very much so. We're not exactly in the best situation politically, so I'm always following the news.

Are you feeling worried about anything right now? A little, but I'm mostly annoyed and a bit angry at it now.

Are you a gossipy type of person? Just with Angela, but it's not even mean-spirited at this point lol. If we catch something on our news feed, we talk about it in a very "wow we're all getting older" "She really deserves this" "Her baby is so cute" way haha.

When will your next meal be, and do you know what it will consist of? I ate so much over lunch that I'm still full now at 10:04 PM. That said, I did get a couple of doughnuts at the mall earlier and I'll probably just have those as a midnight snack.

Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. Either the time I got hospitalized in 2011 over a low platelet count; my UTI in 2020 where I had a 40C fever; or Covid last year when I got every goddamn symptom possible and felt like a corpse.

What’s your opinion on your in-laws, if you have any? I don't have any ~direct in-laws, but my cousin's fiance can't be more fantastic. She's so kind, easy to talk to, and is very affectionate. Super sweet girl and every conversation we've had is a great memory.

Do you make excuses often, or do you just get things done? I complain to hell and back first, then I do the thing because it'll never do itself anyway lol.

Have you seen your best friend today? Nah. I did see her Monday, though.

What can you smell right now? Room smells like nothing to me at this point, but I know that's because I've been here for hours and have just grown accustomed to whatever smell it has.

Any important birthdays coming up? It's my paternal grandma's birthday today! After her, it'll be my mom's and sister's in September. Their birthdays are a week apart.

Fireworks: yay or nay? Yay, tbh.

Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? I haven't taken these in weeks so I might take one or two more.

How about tomorrow? Any plans? I have a bit of work that I need to squeeze in, but it's okay because it's the part of work that I enjoy doing. We might also take a trip down south to visit my dad's family to celebrate my grandma's birthday, and also because it's my dad's last weekend before he needs to leave for work again.

If you could eat or drink anything right now, what would it be? I have Biscoff doughnuts waiting to be eaten.

What colour are your headphones? I have Airpods; they're white.

Think of the last long car trip you had, where did you go? Tagaytay was the most recent long one...tbh we don't do long rides anymore haha. We used to be able to reach places like Ilocos and Bicol, but that was also when my dad was a decade younger. He likes to take it easy now – super understandable – so when we travel, it's either by car to somewhere more reasonable (Bulacan, Tanay, Tagaytay, Subic) or by plane to a different country altogether.

Do you have a Twitter account that you use regularly? I have an account but I don't use it nearly as much as I used to. It's a gross place to be in now...people are always fighting, throwing slurs, canceling one another, and watching fanwars just genuinely bums me the fuck out.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! I don't think I have.

What was the last movie you saw at the theatres? I haven't been to the cinema since they screened BTS in Busan early last year, lol. But I did watch The Menu at home with my dad and sister just the other night.

Are there any new movies that you’d really like to see? Moana 2 :)

If you could play one instrument flawlessly, what would it be? The piano.

Do you overthink a lot of things? Yes "Overthinker" is my middle name.

Is there anybody you miss but can’t see again? Yes. I wish my grandfather didn't pass so early.

When was the last time you had a hangover? Last weekend.

Do you remember much from high school? Bits and pieces. I remember the good parts of it more than the mundane and outright bad, that's the most I can say.

Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? I'd love to visit either India or Turkey. Or Morocco.

Can you access the roof of the building you live in? Yeah, well it's our home, so.

Do you know anyone who has a strong accent that is hard to understand? Sure. I'll work with foreign clients from time to time. By far, the Singaporean English accent is what's made me lean into my speakers the most frequently, like to make sure I understand clearly.

If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? Kimi's pawprints.

What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? I don't listen to podcasts much. I'm a visual consumer, and I like to be able to see things as I listen to them, so with podcasts I usually zone out pretty quickly.

Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist, and why do you think this is? It's such a copout answer but I'm honestly a realist more than anything. With optimism I don't want to fall into the trap of overpromising things for myself, or setting up grand expectations only to be disappointed...but I also don't want to be pessimistic and like, jinx the ugly stuff to actually happen. For the most part, for me, it's a mix of being realistic and having the "whatever happens happens so just deal with it" mindset.

When was the last time you moved houses? 2008.

Have you ever held a gun? Did you fire it? I haven't. My family actually went to a shooting range for the first time this morning and fired guns for an hour straight, so this question is amusingly timely. But as for me, I was in a terrible mood this morning coming from yesterday's shitty work day, so I sat it out. I also didn't want to be near guns while feeling super vulnerable.

Do you like simple questions or deep questions that make you think? Like on surveys? Just simple ones would do.

How long have you been using Bzoink? I had been going on it regularly from 2009 to earlier this year when it shut down for good. I'm pretty sure there's like a fanmade version of it that's since come out though – I just can't remember the link rn lol.

When was the last time you threw up? Why were you sick? Early May. Food poisoning.

Are you on a first-name basis with your boss? (or last boss if unemployed) Yes.

What brand is your laptop or computer? Apple.

Would you ever wear a bright orange shirt? I have one but I only wear it occasionally as orange isn't really my color.

What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? Just some document I needed to accomplish for work.

Who do you miss and what do you miss about them? Kimi. I miss how clingy he was, how quietly sweet, and how I was his person from the very start to the very end. He really was and is my soulmate in so many ways.

What were the best and worst costumes you’ve ever worn? Best was going as Sofie from Halloween 2014 (or 2015?). Worst was a store-bought pirate outfit.

Do you know anybody who is gay and married? In Catholic Philippines? Hahaha.

What did you last take painkillers for? Headache.

Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? I wish I had the patience for coloring and painting-by-number.

Have you ever shared a home with a friend? I mean just for overnight stays, really. I haven't had a friend who needed to stay for a certain length.

What’s the craziest or weirdest place you’ve ever slept? Bathtub is definitely up there (it was empty).

What did you have for lunch today and who made it? The chefs at Ramen Nagi made the ramen I had for lunch.

Do you believe in anything supernatural like ghosts or ghouls? No.

[distraughtmary]

To Uncreate You. Chapter 13. Part 2

The bath time was not as pleasant as Dmitry had imagined. In addition to having to wash his hair three times, he cut himself while shaving, which had not happened for years, and his right foot had a huge blister that would require a puncture. The water was so murky following Dmitry’s exit that he decided to bathe again on Sunday and consider the ways he could have a shower at school without compromising himself. 

He hated showers, but the recurrent theme of the lyceum had been ‘the things Dmitry hates,’ so it seemed appropriate. During the cleansing Dmitry’s thoughts were also full of grim thoughts, which might have contributed to the disaster. He devoured everything his grandmother had cooked for breakfast, to her delight, and asked for more omelette. She kept accusing the school of starving him to death, to which Dmitry only uh-huhed unenthusiastically. Having washed the dishes, Dmitry went to his room and lay on his bed, imbibing the security and peacefulness it provided. They did not last long as Mark entered the room without knocking.

‘You’re lucky I haven’t been jerking off,’ Dmitry said bitterly.

‘Who jerks off after taking the bath? And the music trick doesn’t work on me because I didn’t hear you sing along,’ Mark occupied Dmitry’s ‘gaming’ chair and whistled.

‘Fuck you,’ Dmitry almost threw a pillow at his twin.

‘I know you’re lonely and horny, but I hope that it will never come to this,’ Mark said thoughtfully, a finger on his chin.

Dmitry chose to ignore Mark again and faced the wall, but Mark was instantly on him, pulling him on the other side with his strong arms. Dmitry tried to resist, but the dumb muscles won. He stretched his arm to grab his phone, but Mark intercepted the attempt.

‘Talk. To. Me,’ Mark hissed through his teeth.

‘Or what? You’re gonna hit me?’ Dmitry winced, picturing the situation in all the colours.

‘No. I’m going to hug you until you melt,’ his brother said gently.

‘Okay.’

Dmitry calmed down, having surmised that making an enemy out of an unknown entity was not the wisest choice. And there was something comforting about his presence despite the devastation he had brought.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about Ulyana?’ Dmitry asked.

‘Well, we knew you would react like that, so we were waiting for the right moment… and then you returned unexpectedly.’

‘Would there ever be the right moment? How long has this been going for?’

‘For three months secretly, and I introduced her to the grans yesterday,’ Mark avoided Dmitry’s judgemental gaze.

‘Three months, huh? Well, thank God that she didn’t start dating you immediately after I’d come out,’ Dmitry was less irritated than before, but still sufficiently vexed.

‘Dima, you have to understand… It’s not like she was too hung up on you or anything. She just happened to come to my gym once, and we hit it off. It was only after I’d told her I had a twin brother when she finally connected the dots. It was a real shock to her, trust me.’

‘Mark, I don’t care about her reasons or motivation – I’ll ask her that myself. I only want to know why you didn’t tell me considering that she’s my friend.’

‘You aren’t sharing much these days either, Dima,’ Mark looked at him at last. ‘Otherwise you would’ve told me who that bastard that played with your feelings is and where I can find him.’

‘There’s no bastard,’ Dmitry tried an unsuccessful lie.

‘Bullshit. Ulyana told me. There was a guy you were all excited about, but now you come home all miserable, and I don’t know what to think.’

‘Maybe he just turned out to be straight? You aren’t going to beat him to pulp just for that,’ Dmitry said nonchalantly.

‘Straight guys can play you too. You were the one who told me about those horror stories involving married men and whatnot. It probably doesn’t make them straight anymore, but I’ll leave the labels to you. The bottom line is – if a person is a jerk, he’s a jerk, gay, straight, whatever.’

‘That was awfully deep of you,’ Dmitry managed a giggle. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you everything before you jump to conclusions and then jump him.’

Dmitry told Mark about the principal, Egor, Valera, Andrey, the botched examinations, the weird obsession with sex, and his magic. Mark was listening attentively, his frown deepening with each new revelation. By the time Dmitry finished, he had been genuinely indignant.

‘Okay. Let’s go through this mess one by one. First of all, what the fuck.’

‘Yeah,’ Dmitry whispered.

‘That Egor guy. You’re telling me that you’re going to patch things up with him even after what he’s done?’

‘I mean, I provoked him. Granted, I didn’t expect him to bang the first girl he met in retaliation, but I can live with that.’

‘He’s a dick, but fine. Maybe you’re into that,’ Mark nudged Dmitry with his shoulder.

‘You’re a dick.’

‘Okay, next. Andrey. You say he was your friend, but I don’t remember anyone with that name.’

‘What?’ Dmitry almost fell from the bed. It was the first time Mark’s memories had not matched Dmitry’s.

‘There were Arthur and Kesha, but definitely no Andreys. Do YOU remember Arthur?’

‘Sure, but we stopped hanging out after the kindergarten since they went to different schools,’ Dmitry said confidently.

‘What? No!’ Mark was exceptionally dismissive of Dmitry’s claim. ‘Yeah, they went to different schools, but we remained friends up until middle school. Then you kissed Arthur, and everything fell apart. But I never blamed you for that. He’s probably a homophobic jerk now, so good riddance. I still text Kesha, though. I’d never out you to him, but he seems chill with gay people now.’

‘Umm,’ Dmitry was speechless. The world was fucked up. Somehow Dmitry existed in two realities – a reality where his first kiss was Andrey and a reality where his first kiss was Arthur, who he could barely recall, and both were true at the same time. He was not about to seek Arthur and ask him for confirmation, so he had to trust Mark’s word on that. The idea made him extremely uncomfortable.

‘Um, Mark,’ Dmitry’s hands were slightly shacking. ‘Did I ever brag to you about losing my virginity?’

‘No?’ Mark raised his eyebrows. ‘You only got into the dating business last summer, and it was an utter failure according to you. Or do you have something to confess to your little brother?’

He said that last sentence mischievously, a mirror reflection of Dmitry. It made him pissed, but at least his chastity was intact in the updated world.

‘Nah. And if I do, I’m not telling you anyway.’

‘Not fair. I told you everything, even when you didn’t want to hear it,’ Mark gave Dmitry a thumbs up. Dmitry was glad that his memories had not been tampered with.

‘So,’ Mark continued. ‘They may force you to have sex because it’s some kind of a magic ritual?’

‘I don’t know why they do it,’ Dmitry shrugged his shoulders. ‘They use it to consummate a pair’s relationship, but I don’t get the purpose of those pairs. The teachers look properly distraught, and they have a former sex worker attending to them. The system doesn’t sound functional.’

‘What will you do if they make you do it with a girl? I don’t imagine that it will go well with you.’

‘If it’s a one-time thing, I can probably close my eyes and think of Russia… Russian sun-burnt half-naked selo guys on a tractor,’ Dmitry said uncertainly. ‘But honestly, I don’t fucking know. I need the principal to give me the answers, but she’s been avoiding me. I could threaten them with explosive magic, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a magic prison.’

Mark looked at Dmitry wistfully, the freckles dancing on his shifting face.

‘It’s not too late to let me take your place. I suggested that before because I knew that something would be up. Having sex with some girl isn’t ideal, but I won’t suffer as much as you will.’

‘And how will you explain putting on that weight and muscles in a weekend?’ Dmitry laughed.

‘I’ll tell them that Baba made me eat all the pantry,’ Mark smirked. ‘I’m surprised she hasn’t made you do that yet.’

‘Maybe witnessing me struggle with body disorders made her think twice before doing that,’ Dmitry said seriously. ‘I understand that her generation was traumatized with food shortage, but we’re in the 21st century, for fuck’s sake.’

‘Shhh,’ Mark put a finger to his mouth. ‘She could hear you. And she’s pretty upset about the situation. She had to give up her daughter to magic, and now you. Now she’s scared that if I have a child, they’ll suffer the same fate.’

‘Her daughter? You mean my… our mother?’ Dmitry asked incredulously.

‘Shit. My tongue will be the end of me,’ Mark mumbled and made a movement with his hand, causing Dmitry to doze.

***

Dmitry woke up deep in the evening, his memories hazy. He remembered talking to Mark and asking him about Baba, but the rest was shrouded in mist. His phone was lit up with messages from Ulyana, his online friends, and, surprisingly, Alla.

‘Have you broken it off with Egosha already? My friend is dying to meet you. How about tomorrow at the forbidden section of the Underground Loft?’

‘Maybe next weekend,’ Dmitry typed lazily. ‘I don’t feel well, and the things with Egor aren’t set in stone.’

‘Alright, but he won’t be waiting forever. Next Sunday or bust. He is rather passionate about your freckles btw. Wonders if there are any on your ass.’

‘I wonder if he has any ass at all.’

‘Damn…’

Dmitry did not read the rest and simply stared at the ceiling, awaiting a new wave of drowsiness. He did not care for Alla’s guy much, and he had a feeling that they would not be a good match. He wanted to find someone on his own terms, without match-makers or other middlemen. But what were his prospects, really? And how would a potential suitor react to him being a mage? Many people did not understand them, and that was the best-case scenario. Some weirdos worshipped magic and treated mages as deities, but they were on the margins of the society. Dissatisfaction with mages was more widespread despite their contributions to the common good. The only form of warfare had been reduced to the magic one as the nuclear weapon was deemed too dangerous. The more powerful your mages were, the more powerful you were as a country, but the trick was that no one was willing to disclose the real power of their mages, and espionage yielded little result. Occasionally an escaped mage would reveal some classified date to never resurface, and Russia was apparently somewhere in the middle due to literal witch hunts in the Soviet era. Perhaps that lack of power was the reason they had put such high hopes on him, but Dmitry wanted none of that. And did they seriously believe that he would fight for the country that refused to give him a semblance of rights? Once Dmitry had a proper hold of his abilities, they would face a rude awakening.

***

Dmitry’s Sunday was not especially eventful. He talked it out with Ulyana, who reassured him that their friendship had nothing to do with Mark and that even if they broke up, she would remain Dmitry’s friend. His online friends had made no progress in believing him, and he had to block some of them. One ‘friend’ even wrote that he would rather believe that Dmitry had got laid. Dmitry was in a desperate need of real friends, and his mind painted Andrey’s forlorn silhouette. He had not decided what to do about him. There were too many unpredictable variables, and Dmitry’s analysis was inconclusive without them. Mark’s comment had added more tar to the barrel of honey. Had the rewriting process been flawed, or did Andrey possess the talent to evade it? Would he be honest if Dmitry asked? Or could Mark have fucked with Dmitry’s head, sowing all those seeds of doubt? But to what end? Was his thing with Ulyana serious or a scheme to control more of Dmitry’s life? Too many questions when all Dmitry wanted was a taste of love.

Dmitry packed food, drinks and clothes for the week and added some bathing items to the heap. The bag could not contain everything, and Dmitry employed another bag, which was more in line with straightness. Dmitry vowed to throw it at Andrey the next time he saw him. He had let him plant bullshit into his head, and he would have to pay. There was just one more thing Dmitry might need.

Dmitry barged into Mark’s room uninvited while his brother was in the middle of doing a run in some co-op game. Following his appearance, he had asked Dmitry to join on several occasions and only met rejection. Dmitry was all about single-player games, and the homophobic rant coming out of the speakers only hardened his resolve to stick to them. Mark left the instance and turned to Dmitry, his face rosy.

‘A friend of yours?’ Dmitry asked in a non-nonsense way.

‘Nope. I was about to shut him up, but then you showed up.’

‘Sure,’ Dmitry’s disappointment was palpable.

‘Dima, really? You think I wouldn’t defend you?’

‘Well, he wasn’t attacking me personally, right? So why would you defend gay people in general? Hell, even I wouldn’t sometimes.’

‘Dima…’

‘Whatever. I need a favour to ask,’ Dmitry dismissed him with wrist gesture.

‘Okay. What do you want?’ Mark looked hurt, but Dmitry had no tolerance for lazy allyship.

‘I need… um… um… condoms,’ Dmitry finally managed after some hesitation.

‘Oh my God,’ Mark exhaled in awe. ‘Okay, how many?’

‘I have no fucking clue. 5, maybe?’ Dmitry’s face flushed.

‘Are you going to have sex every day? That’s hardcore,’ Mark nodded approvingly.

‘Shut it. I’m not going to have anything. I need to be prepared for all scenarios. They might’ve set me up with a girl while I was away,’ Dmitry mumbled to the wall.

‘You need just one for a girl. Something’s up,’ Mark mused.

‘None of your business,’ Dmitry said sharply. ‘You either give them to me, or I… Fuck it, just give me one.’

‘You can always buy them yourself,’ Mark smirked. ‘Every man goes through this initiation.’

‘First of all, I have no money of my own, and I’m absolutely not asking Baba.’

‘She would understand,’ Mark made innocent eyes, and they somehow suit him.

‘No. And even if I had money, no way in hell I’m going to the pharmacy. That lady’s known me since I was a baby.’

‘There are tons of pharmacies around here. I go to a different one each time. Gives them an illusion that I’m not a sex addict,’ Mark winked at Dmitry.

‘Ew. So, are you giving me anything or not?’ Dmitry sounded more desperate with each roadblock.

‘One more question. What if the guy has condoms of his own? And he’ll use it on his cock and do you know what to you?’ Mark remarked astutely.

Dmitry had considered the possibility. With Egor, it was probably the only available way, although Dmitry had not ruled out non-piercing activities. He actually desired them more than anything. But Dmitry’s problem was that other men might want that very thing, and they would want it in a specific way that ignored Dmitry’s wishes. Thus, he had to be ready to lie or stand there and let the hormones do their thing.

‘I guess I’ll let him,’ Dmitry admitted. ‘Sex is sex. I’ll feel pleasure either way.’

‘Spoken like a true virgin,’ Mark snorted.

Dmitry fought the urge to kick Mark in the balls because the promise of nephews, nieces, or other niblings was tempting.

‘What do you suggest, then” Dmitry asked hotly.

‘Tell him exactly what you want and how you want to go about it. If he refuses, then be all defeatist about it. If he doesn’t… enjoy the night of your life.’

‘You know an awful lot about how gay people go about it,’ Dmitry remarked shrewdly. ‘Even I don’t know that much.’

‘I’m just saying how people regardless of their sexuality should go about it. And I know you’re sceptical about straight sex, but we have to communicate too. Ulyana wanted to try some ‘unconventional’ things, I wanted to try some things. We worked it out.’

‘I wish my magic could wipe out memories because I definitely didn’t want to hear all that,’ Dmitry cringed.

Mark sniggered and went to open his sticker-ridden cupboard. Seconds later he was back with a pack of around 10 condoms. Dmitry shielded his face from the sight.

‘Take them. And tell me in advance if you need more,’ Mark’s face was suddenly determined. ‘I know I haven’t been a good support lately, pardon my gamer speak. That school sounds like hell, and nothing I say will nullify the damage it’s done to you already, but I hope that this counts for something.’

For some reason, Dmitry felt like hugging his twin, but he was still aggravated with him, so he muttered a thanks and took the load. If his grandparents saw him with those, he would be dead. Either of embarrassment or due to his grandfather’s fist. They were not ‘the sex after marriage’ type because both had had an extensive dating history before meeting each other, but they were not the ‘sex whenever you feel like it’ type either.

‘I hope that your Prince Charming will give you exactly what you want. You’re worth it,’ Mark said with feigned solemnity.

‘I hope that you and Ulyana will make it work for a long time too. She’s worth it,’ Dmitry returned the quip with the first genuine smile in a while.

[missmungoe]

🌹if you’re still doing these, some Makino and Red Haired Pirates fluff? 🥹👉👈I really liked your Tethered to Kinder Shores

(I still have a few of these left in my inbox, so have a snippet from an upcoming one-shot, because their fondness for dramatic cloaks is still one of my favourite things about the Red-Hair Pirates)

The world had changed in the ten years he was gone, but then the sea was never static, although it said something about the habits of humans that when it came to their preference in clothes, few things had changed, aside from the fact that he preferred his shirt rakishly untucked now and his pants more boldly patterned (a topic of much debate, both among his crew, his wife, her village, the Grand Line tabloids, and if the rumours were to be believed, the navy brass).

But controversial pants aside, ten years later, the black cloak was still a staple of his wardrobe the same way Makino’s kerchiefs were of hers. It was practically his trademark, at least now that his straw hat was no longer attributed to him, but there were worse things to be recognised for, and as far as cloaks went, his crew was known for having something of a predilection. And while by no means a dress code requirement, there was a sense of camaraderie in it, but then few things bound a crew as tightly as questionable fashion choices.

Well, there was one other thing, at least where his crew was concerned.

“What’s this?”

Shanks watched her consider the parcel sitting on the counter, which hadn’t been there when she’d left to grab another bottle of rum from the storeroom earlier.

Their grins were doing a truly terrible job of concealing their excitement. Shanks had half a mind to remind them that the gift was from him, not all of them.

From his seat at the bar, “Just something I got while I was away,” he said, his grin helpless at her curiosity, worn openly across her face.

“It’s for me?”

He nudged it towards her, and saw her wide eyes darting from the parcel to his. “Open it.”

Putting down the bottle of rum, she came up to where he was sitting, the slight furrow of her brow betraying a twinge of wariness that was probably deserved, as she reached for the silk paper wrapping.

Feeling the soft contents, “Did you get me something to wear?” Makino asked, delighted, although her grin was sheepish as she shot him a cheeky, “I hope it fits,” with a pointed glance at the baby bump protruding from under her apron.

“Well I didn’t know you were pregnant when I got it,” Shanks said. His eyes danced. “But I don’t think that should be a problem.”

New intrigue brightened her eyes, and a decade might have passed, but Shanks didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of how easy she was to delight, which made it entirely too tempting to keep giving her things. But then as far as gifts went, she could have asked him for the horizon and he would have looked for a way to bring it to her.

Her curiosity barely contained now, they all watched as she pulled away the wrappings, his whole crew leaning out of their seats, at least those who hadn’t abandoned all attempts at subtlety, and who’d gathered around the counter to watch her.

Makino was too enraptured to notice their hovering, her full attention stolen by the gift, but lifting away the last of the silk paper, she stilled.

She’d told him once that she’d developed a fondness for adornments at a young age, courtesy of a painfully frugal mother whose only accessory had been a near-permanent frown, and who’d refused to indulge her daughter’s notions of frippery. That’s where the kerchiefs had come from, she’d explained; a little girl’s gentle rebellion against painful practicality. Something that was meant to be useful, holding back her hair, but she’d worked around their purpose by including bright colours and bold patterns, and embroidering the edges with lace and seed pearls.

You know what you sound like? he’d asked her, touching the kerchief she’d been wearing, the simple slip of fabric embroidered with her own hand. And while not a black flag flying in the face of a corrupt government, the gentle defiance in the face of convention was a core feature of their creed, to which his tender grin had declared her a member, even before he’d named her,

A pirate.

She’d laughed, predictably flustered, but the story had stayed with him, across the years and the Grand Line, until one day, they were visiting a certain island for the purpose of replenishing their resin supply for the ship coating.

And it wasn’t a pretty kerchief, or any conventional trinket a captain might gift his new wife, but then their marriage was anything but conventional.

Withdrawing the cloak from the silk paper, Shanks saw how her hands shook as she held it up, her doe-brown eyes as wide as he’d ever seen them, and her expressive features baring all her feelings.

No one spoke, the complete quiet within her bar pronounced as his whole crew watched her, rapt. From his seat a barstool down from Shanks’, even Ben had abandoned all pretence, leaning closer to get a better look.

Lifting her eyes from the cloak, her smile trembled over her soft mouth as Makino asked him thickly, “Is this some kind of official initiation into your crew?”

His smile tilted, soft and hers. “You are one of us,” Shanks said, although his look named her more still, but then he’d chosen a mantle to suit her post. “Figured it was about time you dressed the part.”

Her wavering grin split her cheeks, before she held the cloak out to him, a silent request in the offering that he obliged, sliding from his barstool as she turned, drawing her braid over her shoulder.

And this would have been easier with two hands, but lifting the cloak, Shanks placed it over her shoulders, the supple velvet draping across the slender line perfectly, the colour a brilliant sea-green, coaxing out the sea glass in her hair. Unlike his own, it was a short cloak, the hem just brushing the tops of her hips.

Turning back towards him, Makino tilted her head gently, and holding her eyes, he reached to close the delicate silver clasps, the cloak’s high collar snug around her slender throat.

A crooked knuckle tipped her chin tenderly, grazing the soft skin of her jaw as Shanks murmured, “Perfect fit.”

His gaze released hers, taking her in where she stood, tiny and adorable, and endearingly oblivious to just how much influence she commanded over one of the most notorious pirate crews in the world, all of whom had abandoned their seats to get a better look at her, crowding around the two of them now.

“You look like you’re properly part of our crew now, Makino!” Limejuice approved.

Monstar’s chitters agreed, as Bonk Punch grinned and said, “Now all that’s missing is a wanted poster.”

“And a mid-life crisis,” Ben deadpanned, although the grin jutting around his toothpick agreed, as he told her, with a gentleness he reserved for no one else, “It becomes you.”

Grinning, Lucky Roo concurred, “You look beautiful, Makino!”

“Regal,” Hongou said, to murmurs of agreement from both Gab and Snake.

Her goofy grin was adorable, but, “Alright,” Shanks said, shouldering them out of the way as he put himself in front of her. Makino blinked. “As much as I agree with the general consensus, you’re kind of encroaching on my gift.”

“Your gift?” someone asked, with surprising affront, only for Shanks to find the sentiment reflected across all their faces. “What happened to our gift?”

“Yeah! For our girl!”

“My girl,” Shanks said, only to be met with disbelieving looks.

“Next you’ll be claiming it’s not ‘our’ baby!”

“Because it’s my baby!”

“Oh sure. All of a sudden it’s ‘your’ baby, and ‘your’ barmaid. What, is it ‘your’ ship, too?”

Shanks stared at them. Then blurted, “Yes!”

A beat passed, before he was unceremoniously sidestepped, as they all flocked around her. “But anyway, Makino! What do you think?”

“We thought the colour would look great on you!”

“And the velvet is so soft!”

“And it’s real silver thread, not the cheap kind!”

“We wanted to go for more expensive claps, something with diamonds―” 

“Or emeralds!”

“―but Boss insisted you’d prefer the silver ones, and so we let him have his way.”

“I’m sorry, ‘let me’?” Shanks asked, only to be ignored as more voices chimed in, laying claim to various aspects of her gift, which was now apparently a collective project.

The gentle touch to his arm dragged his eyes down to Makino, her smile soft as she murmured, her voice pitched for him alone, “Thank you.”

Kissing the parting of her hair, Shanks touched his forehead to hers, smiling as his hand lifted to tuck her hair back into her kerchief. “Do you like it?”

Her grin would have answered for her, but lifting up on her toes to kiss him, “I love it,” Makino said, before sinking back on her heels, touching her brow to his chest as he cupped the back of her neck, his lips pressed to the crown of her head.

Drawing back to examine her cloak, “In terms of flair, I think this might top every cloak in your crew,” Makino said, her brown eyes brimming with delight as she brushed her hands over the hidden embroideries in the velvet.

“Did you forget Ben’s with the swirly pattern?” Yasopp asked, pointing to the culprit, even as he wasn’t currently wearing it.

Ben shrugged, and deadpanned, “It gives me an air of mystery.”

“The mystery being how an otherwise rational guy took a look at that fabric and thought ‘yes, I think I’ll go for the magician aesthetic’?”

Ben just grinned around his toothpick.

“You really shouldn’t be pointing fingers,” Shanks told Yasopp. “Doesn’t your favourite cloak have stars all over it?”

“And?” Yasopp asked, hands on his hips. “Are you saying I’m not a star, Boss?”

“A star-spangled idiot, maybe,” Shanks muttered, as Makino nudged him gently. Lifting his brows, he asked her, “What about me?”

Smiling, she reached up to touch the high collar of his cloak, her knuckles grazing his beard. “You’ve got flair, but it’s not the cloak; it’s how you wear it,” Makino said, as a small hand smoothed over the sable fabric where it draped from his left shoulder, hiding his missing arm.

“There is an art to it,” Shanks agreed, his look softening as he watched her gentle examination. “But if it’s panache you want, I could always impart some skills,” he said, before he grinned, and ducking his head to catch her eyes where they’d paused somewhere at the level of his pecs, “Did you get lost?”

The pink tinting her cheeks went well with her cloak, but then it wasn’t like he needed more incentive to make her blush. “No,” Makino said, prim. “I was just admiring your―”

“Panache?”

Pursing her lips didn’t manage to hold back her smile, but before she could counter with a comeback, “Boss!” a voice called, drawing their eyes to his crew. “Save the flirting for later!”

“Yeah, we’re trying to enjoy her reaction to our gift!”

Shanks fixed them with a warning look, but before he could protest the claim, “Let them have this,” Makino said, touching his arm gently, before lowering her voice to murmur, “and I’ll model it for you in private later.”

His grin told her he’d hold her to that. “Just the cloak and the stockings?”

The look through her lashes failed to be appropriately coy when she couldn’t stifle her own grin, and his chuckle adored her as she averted her eyes from his.

“Oh, by the way,” Shanks said, reaching for the cloak, his brows lifting conspiratorially. “It has slits.” Slipping his fingers through one, he took her hand, so small it was swallowed by his, before he drew her arm through the slit, and grinned when she made a noise of delight.

His crew had fallen silent, distracted as they watched her slipping her other arm through the second slit.

“In case you want to wear it while you work,” he said, although kept himself from adding that having her arms free would be practical if she ever did come out to sea with them, his gaze lowering to her pregnant belly, glimpsed through the front of the cloak. As much as he would have loved to spirit her away, it wasn’t so simple, even as he couldn’t help but wonder if she would have defied that, had she been given the chance.

Touching her chin had her eyes lifting from the cloak, his smile crooking as he told her roughly, “It suits you.”

There was only one thing missing, but the sword would have to wait, he decided, although had no trouble picturing it, the slender hilt in her hands, and the unsheathing song.

“I still can’t believe you got me this,” Makino said, turning as she examined it. A gently pointed glance at Shanks had him lifting his brows, as she asked him, “Do I want to know what it cost?”

If it hadn’t been a personal favour, he suspected the answer was something along the lines of his ship, and grinning, he chirped, “Probably not.”

She huffed, but it didn’t diminish her joy, as lifting her arms, she spun around, the short cloak flaring with the graceful movement. The late sunlight caught in the hidden embroideries in the velvet, sending the pattern dancing, like waves wrapping around her.

And watching her, there was no denying what she was. Theirs, although the word that came to his mind was another, but then in that moment, she looked like an Empress.

“Well?” Makino asked, with a beaming smile, lifting her eyes to his crew where they stood surrounding her. “Am I finally a proper pir―”

She stopped, and Shanks wondered if she’d expected roaring applause, because she blinked in surprise when what she got was something else entirely, noting instead their glassy eyes, all fixed on her where she stood in the centre of the crowd, their heart and anchor, and the sea drawn around her in silver and velvet.

But then the fact that they had nothing to say said more than anything else.

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Part 13/16

Tagged readers (let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!): @scarlet2007

Masterlist

“Princess, it’s time to go.”

You whirled around from where you’d been anxiously pacing a rut on the floor of your cell. You figured it’d been a few days since you’d last seen Loki, but your internal clock was only so accurate. You were starving, your first clue that something had happened. Even when he wouldn’t visit you for days on end he always made sure you had food and water. You’d been lucky enough that you had a glass of water left over from a previous day and you’d been able to ration it, but eventually, that would have run out. You wondered if it had been a last-ditch attempt to get you to tell him where the Infinity Stones were, but there was something in your gut that told you otherwise. You knew of only one time he disappeared like that and you didn’t want to think of what came after, but when you saw what he was wearing, all hope that you were wrong about the timing of his disappearance was gone and was replaced by a deep sense of dread. 

“Where did you get those clothes?” You asked, your voice wavering with fear. You’d seen him wear that outfit before, though not in your universe, it was his usual black, gold, and green colour scheme, but toned down and angled in a way that brought more attention to the angular shape of his body. If your stomach hadn’t been boiling with horror, you would have blushed at that thought. The only thing keeping you intact was that he was wearing his large horned headgear, it meant you still had time. 

He paused his stride towards you, confusion clouding his face, “I beg your pardon?”

You opened and closed your mouth, unable to think of what to say. How were you supposed to tell him those were the clothes he would die in? 

Upon your inability to answer he continued to walk towards you, he grabbed your arm gently but firmly, and started tugging you along with him, “We have to leave, now.”

You let yourself be pulled by him, your heart beating in your throat as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Where are we going?”

“Looks like I will be the one to cause Ragnarok after all,” Loki said with a mischievous smile, pulling you along as fast as you were able to run, “Surprisingly enough, I must give my brother credit for the idea.”

Your mind scrambled to catch up as Loki led you through hidden corridors, descending lower and lower into the palace, “You’re saying that you cause Ragnarok on purpose? That I warned you this would happen, only for you to be the one to do it?” 

“There’s no other choice,” Sorrow flashed across his face and you felt guilt rise in your throat, “Hela gains power from Asgard so we must destroy it. But don’t blame yourself yet,” It was like he’d read your mind, though you’d always worn your emotions on your sleeve, “Thanks to you, or rather thanks to spying on you, Heimdall was prepared and able to get more Asgardians to safety.” 

“What?” You asked, unsure what to make of any of that. You’d known that Hela was coming to Asgard, you’d warned Loki about it, as well as Ragnarok which you’d known would happen soon after, though you had been missing so many pieces, you were unable to tie the two events together. You’d been unable to save Asgard, but you’d been a help in saving more of its people. There was good and bad to that, but you were sure that it would haunt you all the same. Why did your memory have to be so faulty? You would have given up all the memories from your former universe to be able to save Asgard, but you hadn’t had that choice.

“Keep up, Princess, we are almost to Odin’s vaults,” Loki said, tugging you faster as he descended a large set of stairs, “Your slow mortal mind can have all the time to process when we are safely on my brother’s ship.” 

You could accept that. Being out of that cage for the first time in what had to be months was enough trouble for your brain to adjust to already, with Loki’s new change of clothes, there wasn’t much else you could handle. 

You and Loki burst through a beautifully ornate set of golden double doors, descending slim stairs into a room you recognized as Odin’s treasure vault. There was a light orange glow illuminating the room, and you trailed behind Loki as he let you go, aiming directly for the Skull of Surtur in one of the closest display stands. 

He picked it up, carrying it towards the Eternal Flame at the center of the room when he paused, looking towards a spot you could not see from your angle, though you already knew what resided there. It was the Tesseract, or more importantly, the Space Stone. 

“Loki, don’t take it.” You strode forward, catching up to him. You stood in front of the Tesseract, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“You cannot stop me, Princess, that is rightfully mine.” Loki’s top lip curled up in a sneer, suddenly defensive. He tucked Surtur’s Skull under his arm and went to push you out of the way, but you held your hands up, your voice twisted with desperation. 

“It’s an Infinity Stone!” You exclaimed in a panic, his gaze snapping back to you, “It’s the one Thanos will kill you for. Leave it here, or he won’t just kill you but half of the remaining Asgardians. You can’t beat him, I know you think you can, but I’ve seen you try. It doesn’t work.”

His eyes scanned your face for any hint of deception, “Why should I believe you now?”

“I have never lied to you before, please just trust me on this one. I can’t watch that again.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as a faint memory played through your head, one you wished desperately that you could forget. It was like watching a movie screen play out the worst possible thing that you could imagine, and the sickening snap of Loki’s neck as it broke under Thanos’s grasp, the veins bulging on his face as he turned a horrifying shade of purple would be forever seared into your brain. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked, “If you’re trying to trick me, you will regret it.” 

Relief flooded you, “I promise that I’m not.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Loki turned away from you, and the Tesseract, continuing his run towards the Eternal Flame. Loki placed the Skull of Surtur into the burning fire before looking back at you, a mix of disbelief and worry clouding his face. For all he talked about hating his father, or feeling like the Asgardians were beneath him, this was still his home, and he had been tasked with destroying it. 

He turned back to the flame and said, “With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn.”

He took a step back as fire blazed around the skull, the eyes taking shape as it started to grow. 

“Loki,” You prompted when he didn’t immediately start running away, “Let’s go.”

He spun quickly, running at top speed towards you, you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to run that fast, you’d been locked in a room for so long you were very out of shape, and you were pretty sure that running had never been your forte. It seemed Loki had the same thought, as instead of grabbing you by the arm once more, he grabbed you around the waist and slung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, barely slowing down as he sprinted up the stairs. 

You yelped in surprise and Loki chuckled, “You’re welcome, Princess, if I’d allowed you to run on your weak mortal legs, you wouldn’t have survived.” 

“Asshole,” You muttered, but over the breaking of stone behind you as Surtur grew to his full size, he pretended to be unable to hear you. Though you doubted he didn’t know how you felt. He may be right in the fact that he’d saved your life, but you couldn’t help but think the God of Mischief enjoyed it a bit too much.

* * *

You jolted awake, the memory having ended. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and were surprised to find the overwhelming scent of pine filling your senses. You realized with a start that the wonderful warmth spreading through you was due to a very clingy Loki who’d wrapped himself around you while you slept. From the even pace of his breathing, he appeared to be asleep, thank God. The way he held you had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy and your head feeling light. Or maybe that was from the confusing vision you’d just had. You didn’t understand half the thoughts that had run through your head, you weren’t used to having visions where you could remember what you’d thought at that time. To make matters worse, you now had a horrible image of Loki’s death that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget. You knew you had prevented it, which gave you a small bit of relief but watching it play out like that, on a large movie-type screen had you even more confused. Why would you watch something like that and how was that even possible?

You were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts as you became more aware of the precarious position you were in. Loki was pressed against you fully, his chest against your back, his legs tucked in behind yours, and his cheek resting against the back of your head. His breath washed over your neck, bumps raising on the skin it ghosted over. His arms were wrapped around you, one under your neck and bent at the elbow to hold your shoulder. The other around your waist, his hand holding your stomach where your shirt had ridden up as he held you tightly to him. 

Your breathing hitched, there was no way you were getting out of this without waking him up. Not that you wanted to stop this, the chill of the bunker wasn’t pleasant and you were reluctant to give up your heater. It definitely had nothing to do with the way your heart sang at his touch... Maybe you’d been a bit lonely, but who could blame you?

You wondered if you could pretend to be asleep, would he notice, or if he did would he even say anything?

“I know you’re awake, Princess.” Loki said, sleep still thick in his voice, “You’re welcome for keeping you warm, no need to ruin it with your overthinking.”

You let out a squawk of indignation and struggled against him to no avail, no matter how you squirmed his hands stayed firmly planted. He would not let you go. 

“Careful, Princess,” He chuckled, the deep vibrations of that sound reverberating through you, “That may not have the effect you intended.”

You paused. Your mind, still not fully woken up, took a minute to process what he meant. When you realized that your squirming in an attempt to get free meant that you were wiggling your hips against his, you felt a bright, burning blush spread from the tip of your ears and down your neck. Oh.

“Do you have to be this way so early in the morning?” You complained, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. 

“Would you rather I ignore you again?” You could feel his smirk against the back of your head and you wanted to reach around and smack it off, “Or perhaps you preferred when I was ‘an ass’ as you so delicately put it.”

You groaned in exasperation, “Is it only those three options.”

“I’m afraid so,” Loki said with mock seriousness, “As a reward for your valiant attempts to come to my aid, I have decided to speak with you again.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You’re the worst.” 

“You keep saying that, yet you don’t believe it.”

“What makes you think that?” 

“You are much more capable than you pretend to be, if you wanted to be free of me, you would be.” There was an undertone to his voice, something more to his tone that you didn’t yet have the memory to understand. 

You wanted to argue, but anything you would say would only be used against you. The more defensive you got the more he would be able to twist your words. 

A million questions rose to your tongue but you couldn’t put any into words. Instead, you let yourself lay in Loki’s arms, enjoying the heat and the feel of him around you, as much as you tried to deny it. You told yourself that it was just a nice change of pace from yesterday, but the more memories you regained, the more you were sure there was something more to your relationship with him. Whether you had admitted that to him or not remained to be seen.

It wasn’t until your stomach grumbled unhappily that you decided to start your day. You’d both cleaned up yesterday, but you’d still instructed Loki to wash up first while you made breakfast so he could take a look at how his ribs and temple were doing. He only complained a little and eventually gave in. You took that as a win. 

You sat on the bed beside Loki, a thick blanket wrapped tightly around you as you ate breakfast in silence. The wet grain-type food was topped with what Loki told you was a type of dried fruit was a satisfying enough meal, but you barely tasted it. You were too busy thinking of your dream. You finally had a clearer idea of what had happened with Asgard. You’d tried to warn Loki, even though you had limited knowledge on it, and because you’d spoken of it and Heimdall had been able to hear you somehow - these damn magic people and their magical tricks - more Asgardians were saved than would have been if you hadn’t been there. You’d also managed to convince Loki not to take the Space Stone, saving his life and the lives of those who would have died when Thanos attacked. Yet, you were still unable to save many Asgardian lives, or Asgard itself. You’d been there with Loki when he’d caused Ragnarok, you hadn’t been able to do anything to fix it as his home was destroyed. It left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you reluctant to finish your breakfast.

Loki noticed your sullen mood and took it upon himself to say something, “What did I just tell you about overthinking?”

You glared at him, “If you would tell me about our past then maybe I wouldn’t have to.”

Loki frowned down at his nearly empty bowl, “If I could I would, Princess.”

“Can you tell me why you can’t?” You asked, still desperate for any answers. 

Loki shook his head, stirring his food around his bowl. Ugh.

“But I’ve remembered so much, how will it hurt me if you confirm things I already know?” 

“This isn’t entirely my doing, I didn’t make the rules.” You winced as a sharp pain stabbed at your skull. Loki looked at you in alarm, “This is why I don’t tell you, you put yourself at risk and I will not allow that.”

You clenched your fists, leaning your head back to rest on the wall behind you, “Because I’ve already done that before, right? I did something that put me at risk and hurt you.” 

Loki clenched his jaw to hold himself back from saying anything, but you took that as confirmation. The pain laced through your skull again, causing you to groan and double over. You didn’t want to be sick again, but if you continued down this path you would be. 

“Stop this,” Loki pulled you back up by your shoulders, steadying you as you swayed, “Or do you want me to go back to ignoring you? I’ll do it if it means you will be safe.”

“But I have to know!” You ground your teeth in frustration.

“Why?” Loki demanded, “Why is it so important to you that you would hurt yourself like this.”

“Because-” Tears sprung to your eyes as the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “Because if I don’t know what happened then I can’t stop it from happening again and it will be just like with Thanos and Ragnarok. I can’t be responsible for any more deaths, Loki, I can’t bare it.”

Loki released you, shock written across his face. For once he’d been rendered speechless.

“I just want to know what happened,” You begged, “You don’t understand what it’s like to know so little about who you are, about your past and the people you care about. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“There’s nothing I can do.” From the hard set of his mouth, you knew that he wasn’t going to budge on this. Even after you’d spilled your worst fear, the guilt that threatened to consume you wasn’t enough to get Loki to help you. You felt tears of frustration threatening to spill over and you wanted to scream. You were sick and tired of crying, you just wanted your memories and your life back. Why was that so hard to give? “I know you’re angry at me, but I don’t know why. I need to know why.” 

Loki’s face softened, “I’m not angry at you.”

“But you were.” You argued, “And I think you still are, even if you lie to yourself about it.” 

There was a war of emotions across his face and you needed to fix it like you needed to breathe. 

You sat on your heels, scooting closer until you could poke your hand out of the blanket to grab his. His palm was smooth but calloused in yours, warming you up from the inside out. 

“For what it’s worth,” You pursed your lips, unsure if you should continue, but you were so desperate for something, anything, from him, “I am so sorry, Loki. I know I messed up, but if there’s anything I learned from my memories is that I would have never wanted to hurt you, I lo-“

You cut yourself off, looking down at your lap. You couldn’t say that, not yet. Your tears finally spilled over, warm against your cold cheeks. 

“Princess,” Loki wiped the tears from your face, gently holding your chin and guiding you to look back up at him, “You cannot blame yourself for what happened to Asgard or the actions of Thanos. How many times must I tell you before you believe me?”

He’d said that to you before in your memory of trying to stitch him up the first time. 

“If I’d remembered more maybe I could have stopped it.” You closed your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“That is as untrue now as it was then.” Loki brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face and removed his hand from yours to bring it up and cup your cheek. 

You leaned into his touch, tears leaking onto his skin, “I still felt like it was my fault, I had to fix it. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Loki whispered tenderly, “I should have been more careful with you.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, looking through wet lashes up at his stricken face, “I can take care of myself.”

Loki smiled sadly, “That’s the problem.”

You choked on a laugh, though the tears continued to fall despite your best attempts to stop them, “Gee, thanks.”

Loki sighed, and waved you towards him, his arms open, “Come here, Princess.”

You didn’t give yourself a second to hesitate as you climbed onto his lap, your legs straddling his, and you wrapped your blanket around the both of you, resting your head on his shoulder, your face in the crook of his neck. He held you against him, his fingers making small, soothing circles against your back. You let yourself cry, all that pent-up frustration releasing as you felt warm and safe in Loki’s arms. You hadn’t realized quite how much you craved contact with him until that morning, and as you gripped the back of his shirt in your hands, tears soaking into it, you could no longer deny that you needed him. You weren’t sure when you’d started to feel this way, but whatever happened between your last memories and ending up sixty years in the future hadn’t lessened it. You’d loved him then and you loved him now. You only wished that you could remember more of your time together, the little moments that led to this feeling were slowly coming back to you, but you were left wondering if you had ever told him how you felt. 

You pulled back so you could look up at him, his face more open than you’d seen it in a long time. You straightened so you were at eye level with him, placing a hand on his neck as your heart raced a mile a minute in your chest. His lips parted, you were only inches away from him, his breath was warm against your skin and you wanted nothing more than to close that distance.

You leaned your forehead so it rested against his, and your eyelids fluttered shut, “We were friends.”

“Yes, Princess,” Loki smiled softly, “We were.”

You hesitated, your heart racing as you asked in no more than a whisper, “But there was more to it than that, right?”

“You know I cannot answer that, as much as I may want to.” 

“Loki,” You said, your voice almost too quiet to hear. 

You weren’t sure what you were going to say next, but whatever it had been, you would never find out. The words died in your throat as your ears started to ring and your mind felt foggy. You stiffened, you’d left the stone in your pants from yesterday, after all that had happened you’d been too distracted to remember. You were left helpless as the vision overtook you, pulling you away from Loki’s warm embrace, and bringing you somewhere that filled you with an overwhelming sense of foreboding. 

Of all the times you’d had a vision, this had to be the worst.

A/N: The next chapter should be out Friday! Sorry for the cliffhanger 😬 Any ideas on what the vision will be?

Next Chapter

[starshipsofstarlord]

Play Time

Pairing | Elizabeth Olsen x reader

Summary | ‘Play time’, as it is described, is not for your own wandering hands. It is for you to succumb and be under your partner’s control, however, when she is not present, you take matters into your own hands, - literally.

Warnings | smut, spanking, masturbation, swearing, slight degradation, oral sex (fem receiving ofc), mummy kink

Requested ☑️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

There was a tension driving your actions, albeit though they were forbidden. It was obvious that Lizzie would be disappointed into your will to give into your own greed, however she wasn’t here, and you had enough time to bust an orgasm out. She wouldn’t have to know.

That was a mistake on your part, and you’d have known that if you had thought with your brain rather than your hungry cunt. Lizzie always reminded you that that was your insatiable flaw, and that was why she was the dominant counterpart rather than you.

If she were left in your own devices, then your own orgasm would remain to be your own priority, and she wouldn’t get much love. And that was certainly something that she could not have.

And so, you were laid in the nude upon your shared bed, your head reeling back at the stimulating sensations that your nimble fingers blessed upon your clit. It admittedly felt good; there was no aspect of teasing, or the sound of taunting above.

It was just... perfect. The only downside was, that the hands belonged to you, and were not those of Lizzie. But she would never touch you so gently, nor dream or giving you what you wanted straight away. There was a thrill that came with doing something that she would be strongly opposed to.

She craved the influence of the power that she had over your body, and how she had the ability to make it bend and break to her every whim. It wasn’t unusual for her to use the description of a ‘brat’ in regards to you, and it clearly was a suitable resolution in thinking of you, all things considered.

You were, knowingly, going against her strict demands, but worst of all, it was rule number one that you had broken. Do not touch yourself. That heightened a spark throughout your entirety, knowing that you were doing something bad, and deserving of being called a brat, or something worse.

But nevertheless, in all your disobedience, you continued revealing yourself in the addiction of control, pumping your slim fingers in and out of your entrance, with the assistant of your thumb providing a string of perfectly adjusted chords to reverberate through your body.

Too preoccupied basking in the glory of the climax that you were striving towards, you had not feigned to notice the silhouette leaning disappointedly against the ajar door frame, her arms crossed against her chest.

“Yes.” Heavy breaths lay abandon to your chest, the movements of your fingers faltering in their rhythm as they twitched under the flow of the pumping blood running through your ecstatic veins. With one last thrust of your paired fingers, a mewl fled from your mouth, confirming the end of your orgasm. “Holy fuck.”

“Indeed.” Lizzie squinted, stepping forward, her sudden appearance promoting wide eyes upon your face, and causing you to whip your hands away from yourself, digging their tips into the covered mattress. “And it appears that you’ve been a very bad girl, breaking mummy’s rules whilst she was away. How... bratty!”

At her specific, and degrading terminology, a whimper surpassed the insides of your mouth, as your body cradled into itself, embarrassed by the exposure that you were broadcasting to her, albeit by accident. It was clear, that you had been caught in the cross hairs of being red handed, and so, the same colour reflected in a hue upon your body, pressing through your skin in regard to the shy heat.

“Liz-“ she fixed you with a stern look, the borderline dominance flickering through her emerald hues. “Mummy.” Biting your lip, you slowly, filled with cautiousness, crawled upon the bed, and towards the woman that often instructed you in what to do. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

A tut sampled from her pink mouth, enforcing you to bow your head in slight shame. It was inevitable that she was to find out about your individually orchestrated solution to get off, but it made it that much worse, for it was not a second hand discovery.

Instead, she had watched with grave eyes how you fell apart under the collapse of your own touch. Each fluid motion that you had entrusted yourself with delivering was viewed through her stealthy and hawk like eyes. And that meant, there was no solution in trying to deny her deaf accusations, for she had served witness to your lonesome relief.

“No, it won’t.” She agreed, lightly shoving you out of her way, causing you to jolt back by the act, so that she could perch herself into a sitting position on the end of the mattress that was weighted down with many intimate occasions. “You know what to do.”

Lacking any reluctance, you followed her contextual demand, laying in your middle across her apparently inviting lap, your front composed in a floppy manner on one side, and your body half mirroring it on the other.

She trailed her cursive hands down your spine, evoking the appearance of goose bumps to poke out of your barren skin. It was far too well known what awaited you in the concept of her actions, and it had you inwardly wincing.

“See, that’s you being good. Good girls do what they’re told.” It was her successful attempt of taunting you; her outwardly confirming that you were no such thing. “How many?” From experience, you knew that it was a rhetorical consideration, Lizzie was speaking more to herself by it than she was you.

“Please don’t...” the corner of your eyes wept lightly at the thought of what was to come. The thought provoked a sincere yet arousing fear within your chamber of pleasure and fertility. No matter though how much your tried to pardon yourself for your languid mistake, it would never be enough - you knew that, from a collision of experience and logic.

Your attempts though served as vigil fuel to her scarlet fire, and whether she noticed or not, it was uncertain. But despite her possible obliviousness to it, she struck your ass with a relatively hard hand, pulling a mused squeak to tumble helplessly from your heaving mouth, that was attempting to keep the moan within its confines.

“Thank you mummy.” It rolled from your tongue deliriously, like a rehearsed line. Her hand smoothed over the place of which she had spanked, soothing the slight sting, before collaborating her hand unto your skin once more, n the same abused patch of skin. “Fuck!

In a timeless instant, she swatted you once more, causing a salty drop to cascade from your urgent eye. “Remember, only brats use language like that towards their mummies.” It was something that you had a good memory of, but the sworn word had made an appearance to your own dismay.

It had been a thoughtless spew of inconvenience, one that had dug yourself into a spiralling of trouble, and resulted in thus more pain permitted onto the section of your reddened and hand printed behind. “I think we may have to continue this, unless, you have any other ideas, baby?”

Your tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, before you even considered answering. Y doing so, you could taste the salt that had dripped down from the bridge o your nose, and descending down you body in an orderly fashion to reach your slick centre.

It was a frustrating concept though, regarding your eager to please pussy. There was no attention drawn to anything on that end of you; instead, all LIzzie wanted was to hear you speak, and pathetically jumble around with words to spill the perfect answer. All you had to do, was think of how a good girl would respond.

“I’ll do anything.” Your voice was hoarse - desperate. And the vocal feature intrigued Lizzie, and so she rolled you onto the bed beside her, gently grasping the side of your face whilst playing with disarrayed hairs that curled across your cheek.

“Anything?” She repaeated for confirmation; safe to say, she was intrigued. After all, she wanted to experience the efforts that you would go to in order to make it up to her. And so, with tidal integrity, she pierced her green orbs into your own, awaiting another reply out of you.

“Yes.” A sleek smile gave way on your face, showing her that you were more than leased to do anything that she told you too. At the end of the day, it was the dynamic that you had invested yourself in, and also, the saying was true, in a diverse matter; ‘mummy knows best.’

“Okay then.” A broad structure defined her cheeks, paying tribute to her happy, and impressed demeanour. “Since it’s only fair, I want you to make me cum. It’s clear that you’re so good at it, considering that you got yourself to orgasm by nothing but your own fingers.”

She was intentionally getting under your skin about your misbehaviour, ripping of the band aid that you were certain that the openness and lack of squirming away that the spanking that she delivered entailed. But instead, it was another thing that you had been wrong about that to, and so you shuffled patiently upon your knees, watching as she intimately read you expression.

Lizzie pulled you closer by her adoring grasp on your cheek, slotting your mouth against the hilltop of hers. The pair of you moved in a rhythm, sawing your tongues around each other like flexible switch blades. Whenever she pulled away for a breather, you chased her with the promise of continuation, and vice versa.

But finally, the main event was approaching, such a ploy was revealed by Lizzie shrugging out of the dress that she had worn specifically for the interview downtown. The peeling of that layer left her in nothing more than her panties, revealing that she had forgone the support of a bra, which was formidable, since the outfit of her stylist’s choice had enabled enough, yet not too much revelation of a cleavage.

No resilience was met by either parties as she removed her flushed lips away, and laid dominantly back on the expensive mattress. And without waiting for you to run like a transitioning river beside her, she removed her panties herself, flinging them lazily away by her ankle. “Last time you ripped them.” Was her excuse, though, not that she had to ever explain herself to you of all.

It was a vivid memory, one that you fondly held onto. At the time, it had merely been an accident, but no longer did you regret what you did back then. In fact, reflecting on in it was quite hot in fact, and it had indeed been flashing images from that time that you had used to get yourself off earlier.

But your prior release, nor those that were promised in the future were your concern; not at the moment anyways. Your own priority was the woman spreading her legs so confidently in front of you, and the r rated sight had saliva collecting in the globe of your mouth.

“So pretty mummy.” The compliment had her cunt clench around nothing, you could see as the slit puffed its expanse out, attempting to seduce you inside. And it’s efforts were not in vain, for you crept forwards on your forearms, your high and beheld beloved capturing your every move within her clouded gaze.

“It would be far prettier if you were to give it a kiss. I think it’d like that, very much.” An innocent smirk wandered onto her compelling face, and you were eager to oblige her insinuating command. Your fingertips rubbed the insides of her thighs, your thumbs reaching to spread her glorious pink folds.

Leaning forwards, you in took a sensual breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent that rolled off from Lizzie’s cunt in controlling waves. It reeled you closer, and closer, until your lips were pressed against her bud in a sweet peck. “Your so wet.” Was your speculation, and you couldn’t help but gravitate your fingers onto her flower, and roll them in circles upon her individual expanse.

“Then clean it up baby. You know what to do.” Her hand reached down, bunching a fist full of hair within her grip, lowering your head down once again, causing you to continue focusing on her clit, whilst your fingers played lovingly around in her slick.

With the use of your tongue, you began from the bottom of her cunt, to her sensitive clit, working in attentive upwards strokes, collecting her sweet nectar onto your spoon appendage, and leaving none to waste. Then, you prodded at her entrance with the tip of it, sinking it in the private cavern, and reaching as far as your body part would allow you to.

Lizzie had her mouth pouted, as she breathed and mewled steadily. It served as encouragement, making you rock your tongue in and out of her successfully, your thumb finding a home on her clit, and rubbing with a passive goal. “Yes.” She moaned, her noise amplifying as she ground sensually down onto your face, rubbing her excess juices over it. “I’m close.”

That’s made you continue your administrations, the only thing of them that changed being your pace, which increased to a rapid tendency and urgency to get her to finish. “Gonna cum all over your pretty little brat face.” Her other hand also found homage in your hair, as she used it as leverage to rut her mound more directly upon your features.

A light scream evoked from her chest, as you felt her spill around your tongue, the liquid seeping out from her entrance, and softly drowning her thighs. After collecting as much as possible, and drinking it all up, you removed your face, feeling how your chin and such felt quite damp.

“I hope that teaches you to not touch yourself without permission.” Panted Lizzie, making no effort to get up from the bed, tucking herself under a blanket. She lifted up one of the sides, extending her arm upwards, and inviting you into her arms. And you were happy to settle down with her and get some rest after the thrilling and erotic night.

Being a brat wasn’t so bad. And at the end of it all, you always got to curl up with your girlfriend and find comfort in her gentle embrace, it was one of your favourite parts about having an intimate night.

[genshingarbage]

Could I request any boys of your choice where they’ve had an exhausting day and their s/o says they should take a nap on their lap? Thank you!

Cute boi hours again? Yes <3 Sleepy time awe! I am gonna pick a very select few that i think this works well with, so i hope you're okay with the hand picked few ;) - Mod Diluc

Rest My Love.

|| Head Cannons ||

Kazuha/Diluc/Xiao/Kaeya

Kazuha

He was beat, exhausted and aching, every muscle in his body ached like something fierce. But, who ever said the life of a lone wandering samurai was gonna be a breeze? Yea, that's right- no one. Because it sure as hell wasn't. He was use to feeling this way yet somehow it still made him just as grouchy as the first time.

He walked into the small building that was titled as your homestead and yawned; stretching his arms out he heard a few odd bones pop from the pressure, it relieved some of his tension but not nearly enough for it to be actually satisfying. With a huff he removed some of his more heavy going clothing, including his shoes, till he was more loose and relaxed.

He shuffled slowly into the house, trying not to wake you. You were his lover and so him coming to your home was somewhat normal now, but he often was away for large periods of time, and he never liked to disturb you. Specially when you're busy. Which you were, you had your nose deep between the pages of a gripping story written so entrancing like from a book. So much for his first theory that you'd be asleep at this time, huh?

He tried to creep past you as you read, but you wasn't born yesterday. So with a roll of your eyes and a soft exhale from your nose you spoke out. "Kazuha. Welcome home hun." You didn't even bother to turn your head around to him, you knew fully well he was frozen in his steps now, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. He blinked a few times before sorting himself back to his normal standing position and chuckling awkwardly, a breif rub to the back of his neck ensued.

"Ah, yea, I'm uh- yea. I'm home, thanks Y/N. I really didn't wanna disturb you there." He spoke softly and with great regret; like he'd just committed an awful crime. You simply closed the book after having bent the tip of the page you were on, as to know where to start off when you return to it, and placed the item down on the small table infront of your sofa. "Kazuha, it's fine... I was only reading a book." You chuckled gently.

"I know, but... it felt wrong to interupt you so abruptly specially when you seemed so into it-" you'd twisted your torso ever so slightly so your eyes could lay on his now, your heart almost broke, he looked absolutely shattered- like all life was drained from him. Just what had this crazy man gotten up to in his absence? "Kazuha- oh my goodness. Look at you! You're about to pass out."

He smiled politely and waved his hand side to side as if dusting your worry back into the wind. "Nah, I'm a lil tired that's all. I'm gonna have a lie down, I'll be right as rain after." He went to go back to making his way to the exit of your living room, that is until you called out ever so gently. "Or well, I wouldn't mind if you rested your head on my lap." A faint blush flushed your cheeks. He turned to face you yet again. Blinking several times over again.

"Really?" He tilted his head almost like a curious puppy, he has no idea how cute he is sometimes. "I mean, sure why not? You've not been home for over a month. I do get lonely ya know, the company would feel nice, and your presence is always warm and welcoming." You smiled sweetly at him and he returned the expression with full earnest. Nodding softly he made his way to the sofa, where you rested, and now reshuffled and organised yourself to get into a more comfy position.

It wasn't long before he was laying on his side with his head nestled into your lap, breathing softly as your hand gently rested adorn his head of hair. "Mmh. You're right, this beats sleeping alone any day." He hummed sleepily to you, by the way his voice was giving out you could tell he was close to succumbing to his slumber already. With a gentle smile still planted across your lips you hushed him softly.

"Shh, rest now. My Kazuha." You began to hum a quaint little lullaby that had him snoring in under three minutes. This man, he works himself so hard, but still, it's one of the reasons you love him so much, the fact he's hard working and never gives in. And you have the comfort in your mind of knowing whenever he gets this tired again, he'll have you here to be by his peaceful sleeping side everytime. Now and forever.

Diluc

The sky was a beautiful orange and red tone, the colours mixed so beautifully, with the white fluffy clouds scattered around too, it looked like a stunning evening. You were sat alone at the dinner table again, your chin resting on your opened palm, your eyelids half shut to block the rays of the last bit of presence from the sun.

The candles had long since burned out and the beautiful sweet honeyed roast you'd prepare with such delicacy and tender care was going cold. Diluc was suppose to be home over thirty-five minutes ago, he promised he'd make it in time for whatever dinner the maids threw together tonight, he wasn't aware you'd taken it upon yourself to lovingly prepare tonight's meal for him.

You couldn't be mad at the man; or hold a grudge for that matter, you knew what type of person he was, you knew he wasn't one for sticking to plans and promises, he simply couldn't be with the work he has, not to mention his little sun down hobby that you became privy too after several years with the crimson haired gentleman. If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was the fact you knew without doubt he truly did love you. And in a way that was enough for you.

It was sundown now and your dinner had long been since tidied up by the maids, with a somewhat solemn look to your face you'd decided to go to bed early that night. Knowing Diluc, he wouldn't be home for hours to come anyway. Your eyes were just starting ache and your eyelids were starting to feel heavy for you now. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth softly you let your body sink further into the warm embracing sheets.

Click.

Your eyes slowly opened back up when you heard the all too familiar noise of your bedroom door opening, narrowing your eyes slightly to help adjust to the dim glow of the room, the small aid of illumination being provided solely by your nightstand candle. It wasn't hard to make out who it was however, since his deep red hair practically danced from the slight glow of the flicking flame.

"Diluc." It came out more like a whisper which you never intended for it too, but you were so gripped by tiredness now it was hard to sound more awake at the given circumstances. "Sorry for waking you my dear, wasn't my intention." You hummed softly in response and then watched as best as you could as he removed his attire and shoes, stripping down to just his boxers.

Gripping the band that kept his hair up was the last part, with a tug his hair flew down and waved apart, you kept a watchful eye on him. As it was when his hair was down that he was always at his most tired and vulnerable mental state now. "The maids told me Y/N." He still sounded strict, or at least he was trying his best too. But his voice wavered in every sense of the word.

The bed dipped beside you as his weight was added to the mattress now, a small groan escaping his lips. You knew what he meant, it wasn't a surprise the maids told him you'd prepared the dinner today, you'd just wish they'd not sometimes, to avoid adding more stress to the man's poor ordeals. "It's fine, it was just a small attempt. I'm not exactly the best cook to begin wit-"

The poorly sounding wince from him cut you off, the failed attempt to stifle it and keep it under wraps didn't go unnoticed. You narrowed your eyes at the man beside you in bed now, and then you saw. He was littered with cuts and bruises, they surely must hurt, why didn't he say anything? Scratch that. He never tells you anyway, thinking its better that way. Silly man.

With a gentle huff you shook your head, shuffling your weight and sitting up ever so slightly, your back pressing against the several puffed pillows under you. "Enough of that. Come here darling." It was your turn to sound strict however, and for once he didn't fight back. Your heart tugged at you slightly as you felt the weight shifting around beside you and then were suddenly graced with the feeling of his head nuzzling into your lap.

You took it upon yourself to softly begin to caress his head, letting your hand stroke and massage the man's hair and scalp. The groans and sighs that left him were evidence enough he was in a blissful state right now, your sweet Diluc. Always putting his life on the line to protect those less fortunate than him, when will he learn? That his life matters just as much. Sigh.

You heard a soft mutter from him, something along the lines of 'sorry' and 'dinner'. But he was already taken by the nights calming embrace to be formulating anything coherent now, so you closed your eyes with another soft shake of your head and continued to massage his head. Till both you and your hand laid still, silent, asleep. Whatever he'd done tonight, whatever reason he'd missed dinner, it didn't matter. As long as he loved you it was enough. It always has been, it always will be.

Xiao

The stars twinkled softly an slowly, looking so entrancing from down below, the dark blue sky washing above you with the dazzling twinkles looking like small fire flies dancing around. You stood there, your knee bent slightly as your weight was supported by the banister of the top balcony to Wangshu Inn. Any minute now, you thought to yourself calmly.

And is if on que a sudden and harsh breeze blew past you, followed up with a loud thud. You turned your head ever so slightly, seeing the young looking yaksha lifting back up from his crouch landing position. "Welcome home honey." you said somewhat stone like, to which you got a simple sounding 'Tsk' as response, as he chucked his spear lazily behind him, to which it dissolved away instantly.

You rolled your eyes to the quiet scoff that greeted you back, shaking your head slowly, your eyes went back to focus on the landscape below you from the viewpoint of the balcony. It was so peaceful and beautiful. "How has your day been?" You decided to question him further, all while remaining your focus elsewhere.

"Fine." he responded in short. This type of reply was normal to you now, he wasn't the talkative type, despite having been the first to say to you he loved you. "Well, that's good then." you said back in your normal sweet tone now. You could tell from that tone in his voice he was exhausted, he didn't have to say or do anything, you could just tell.

Thinking it was best to leave now and give him his privacy you turned away from the balcony and began to walk to the exit. "I will let you rest my love, see you soo-"

"Wait."

His voice was louder than its ever been round you, the faint flush on his cheeks was evidence enough he never intended for it to come out so loudly from his own mouth. "Xiao?" you turned back round, seeing him stood there looking like a somewhat lost lamb, it was damn cute.

"S...stay with me, ... please."

His voice, so soft, so sweet, so gentle. You felt your heart crack slightly, your poor adeptus, he must've been rushed off his feet tonight. The dark bags forming under his eyes said all you needed to hear.

Chewing your bottom lip softly you breathed in and then walked over to him slowly. "Xiao..." you whispered his name lovingly, his eyes met with yours and for a brief moment the air left your lungs, the sight of his exhausted face so close to you, actively seeking comfort within you, it was enough to melt the coldest of icebergs.

Letting your hand slip into his with a gentle squeeze, a small smile on your lips you led him down the stairs of the Inn, into your bedroom, a tidy and quaint little sleeping quarter. He needed to rest, he is pushing himself too much, and if you do not take action, he never will.

Climbing onto the bed once you'd abandoned your shoes on the carpet you looked up at him, laying in a relaxing position. The red on his cheeks only flushed deeper and darker, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. Such a lewd mind, oh my, you never expected him to get the wrong idea over a situation like this.

"Xiao- no... not that." you chuckled at his confused expression, he was so alien to the concept of just touch in general now, that to him he sees it so black and white, being close means being intimate, otherwise why get close? So it was up to you to show him the ways of being human again.

You let your hand softly pet and stroke your lap and he raised his brow, but seeing the sudden light in his eyes spark showed you he caught on to what you really were aiming for. So he hesitantly dipped onto the bed next to you, he was tense and his movements were awkward, but he eventually shuffled his head and body to lay down with his head nestled softly into your lap.

"Is this... okay?" he muttered it nervously, like he was scared the slightest movement would shatter everything around him. You looked down at him and gently kissed your fingers, pressing them against his lips in response. "Shh, rest my love, you need it." Just to further add to what you were saying you let your hand gently rub the outer ridge of his ear.

The blush eventually left his cheeks, the tensed muscles finally went lax and his breathing grew heavier and more unguarded, with a pleased hum from your lips you closed your eyes too and began to succumb to the sweet calling of slumber too.

As long as he has you, you will always be there to help[ him, he may be an adeptus, a yaksha, but you? He is just as human as you or anyone else. Wrath filled or not. He is and always will be your sweet little adeptus. Your perfect lover. Your Xiao.

Kaeya

Another late night and you sat cuddled up on the sofa scanning through several paintings, more specifically paintings that you had done over the course of several months. It was a hobby of yours, but with the aid of Albedo giving you tips and throwing you pointers here and there you'd become surprisingly good at it; who would've guessed you'd secretly be an artist in hiding? Not you that's for sure.

It was fun enough to help tide over the unsettling impatience that always started to bubble under your skin at least, specially on nights like this, where Kaeya, your boyfriend, who also happened to be the Calvary Captain for the Knights of Favonius was out at an ungodly late time, dealing with a suspicion of criminal activities, within the borders of Mondstadt.

He never broke his promises to you thus far, of which were he will always return safely home to you, but it never did fully destroy the raging thunder of worry that often seized your mind on a daily, who could blame you? The man was always in such dangerous predicaments. Who knew if this morning, or any morning for that matter, where you kissed him goodbye, would be the last time you ever would see his face when you waved him off?

It isn't his fault you know this, but you do wish that sometimes he would be cut slack, just a little, so you could for once not have to distract yourself with idle glances of your paintings while waiting for his return. If only every now and then Jean, The Acting Grand Master would just let him have a day off-

Click.

You jumped slightly upon hearing the noise of your front door not open, but actually close. Turning your head you saw Kaeya stood there, arms covering his chest in a crossed way, a raised brow prominent as he glared down at you. "How long have you been worrying?" His voice sounded so flat and monotone, almost a hint of exhaustion. Was he growing tired of your over worried nature?

"I... uh. uhm..." You were at a loss for words, how long had you been worrying exactly? Two, three hours now? You were unsure of the answer yourself. He shook his head and sighed out slowly, it was long and drawn out; he must be so tired from his work today, seeing you up at this hour acting like a child probably doesn't help his situation in the least.

You looked down sadly, feeling ashamed and guilty of yourself because you do this oh so often to him, he always prays your in bed, safely tucked up and lost in your own dreams before he gets home, but you never are, you're always awake and worried, your face far from the peaceful look he often daydreams you having.

"It doesn't matter anymore my little petal." He hums softly as he walks around the sofa to get within arms reach, crouching onto his own weight to scoop you up, your mind in shock you let the paintings slip from your grip and pool around the seat you were just in and the floor underneath you. "Whe- Kaeya?"

"Shh, it is time to head to the bedroom." He spoke so matter factually, which left you eyes wide and beet red, to which he glanced down and a smug chuckle slipped from him. "For sleep Y/N." You relaxed instantly, a sigh escaping you. "Unless of course, you want the other thing?" You squirmed, embarrassed beyond belief, he loved to teased you. "Quit it Kaeya!" You pouted at him, to which he just chuckled at lightly, planting a soft kiss on your head.

Once in the bedroom he drops you so you fall and sink into the softness of your mattress and covers, to which he joins you quickly after. Now both in bed he simply huffs as he turns and crawls around before you feel his head find its preferred resting place; your lap. You smile and gently chuckle. "May i?" He asks just a tad bit too late for permission.

"You're already laying there Kaeya, bit late for the formalities now." You roll your eyes and turn to blow the candle out, leaving you both in darkness and silence, just your soft and gentle breathing in unison as you stroke and massage his head, to which he groans gently in delight too. He is so sweet when he sleeps on your lap like this, you feel closer to him now than you ever normally do, unless you involve the factor of intimacy sexually.

Its calming and sweet, and it helps you remember that he will always keep his promise to you,

He will always come home safely.

[swbumblebee]

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Never Again, I Promise

AO3 link! y'all, listen, this one was floating around in my head for weeks and I finally had a breakthrough cause of a random tumblr post I made..... anyway, you know what? I finally forced myself to finish it up I hope y'all enjoy it, tell me your thoughts if you'd like to! and as always, sorry for any grammatical errors!

warning: implied abusive parents, clingy reader, and lactation

-----

"Cassie, hi, do you know where your mother is? I've been looking for her all morning." You asked when you ran into Alcina second oldest daughter, Cassandra.

Cassandra scratched her head. "I think she might be in the library or her study or her office. Honestly, Y/ N, Mother is usually all over the castle before a meeting." Cassandra replied.

You nodded your head. "Okay, I'll just check all those places until I find her. Thanks." You replied before heading to the library.

You didn't expect yourself to want to be near the tall vampire lady when you first arrived at the castle, but she was so kind to you that you took to her like a baby animal imprinting on the first thing it saw. The library was a bust, but you did find Daniela, Alcina's youngest, in there studying her French.

"Hey, Dani, do you know where your Mother is? I asked Cassandra and she said that she might be here, her study, or her office." You asked as you walked up to her.

Daniela shrugged. "Well, there's a meeting coming up so those last two choices are good places to look. Unless, no, I can't tell you about that place. Anyway, yeah, her study or her office, check there. If you still can't find her then come back and we'll look for her together." Daniela replied.

You sighed. "Okay. Thanks." You said before heading out of the library.

You checked her study, knocking on the door first and getting no reply so you opened the door slightly and poked your head inside. Sigh, she wasn't in there either. You crossed your fingers and hoped that she was in her office. As you walked in the direction of her study which was on the other side of the castle you ran into Bela, Alcina's oldest.

"Bela, hi! Do you know if your Mother is in her office?" You asked.

Bela nodded her head. "She is! I just came from there, but if you go in there be cautious. There's-"

You cut her off. "A meeting, I know. I'll try to be respectful of her space." You replied. That was going to be a bit hard to do since you just wanted to invade her space as much as you could. You headed to where Alcina's office was and knocked on the door. "Alci?" You called out, your voice slightly muffled through the thick door.

"Come in, little one." Alcina said and you pushed the door opened. "What can I do for you?" Alcina asked as she continued to do her work.

You walked over to the desk. "I was just- can I sit?" You asked. Alcina nodded her head and you wedged yourself between her and her desk much to her surprise.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Alcina asked as you got comfortable in her lap.

"I asked if I could sit and you said yes. I can, I can mo-" You started to say but Alcina shook her head. "I'll be good, promise." You said quietly as you let her get back to her work. You quickly grew bored just sitting in her lap and started squirming, moving along to a beat that was playing in your head.

Alcina pressed her hand into your side to keep you still. "Y/N, I cannot concentrate if you're going to do that." Alcina said. "Why don't you go bring a chair over and you can sit next to me?" Alcina suggested.

You pouted a bit at the idea, but reluctantly removed yourself from her lap to bring a chair over. She patted the top of your head when you sat down and you smiled to yourself. You didn't want to seem like you were trying to annoy her, but you were still bored so you tapped her arm.

"Yes, Y/N?" Alcina asked, not taking her eyes off her paper.

"Alci, I'm bored." You replied. "Do you have anything I can do?"

Alcina let out a small sigh before nodding her head. "The girls used to come in here all the time. There are pencils, crayons, paper, and colouring books. You can use whatever you want, but please try to keep as quiet as possible. I still have tons of paperwork to do." Alcina said.

You nodded your head. "Okay, Alci." You replied with a small smile before digging into the drawer that Alcina had pointed to. You sat on the floor by the fire after you'd gotten some coloured pencils and a colouring book. As you coloured, you started humming to yourself, catching Alcina's attention.

"Dear," You snapped your head up to look at her, flushing a bit. You gave her an apologetic smile. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before you stopped colouring to look up at Alcina. "Ali?" You called out. She hummed in reply. "Can I sit in your lap again? The floor hurts." You whined. You heard her sigh a bit before she nodded her head, scooting her chair back a bit so you had enough room to get on her lap. "Much better." You said with a small sigh as you sat on her.

It was an hour later before Alcina patted your side to get your attention. "I'm afraid I have to make a call to Mother Miranda, little one." You nodded your head and got up from her lap.

"Can I stay?" You asked. Alcina shook her head. "Please, Ali? I'll be quiet, promise."

"I don't know, Y/N. This is a very important phone call." Alcina said as she headed to the phone. You nodded your head, understanding her decision. "But if you really promise to be quiet then I suppose." You smiled at her and moved to pick up your stuff when she stopped you. "It'd be best if you stayed right here. Things with Mother Miranda can get quite... tense. And I'd hate for you to get caught in the middle of the rage she incites in me. Do you understand, little one?"

"I understand, Ali." You replied, albeit a bit dejectedly. You moved your things up onto Alcina’s desk as she sat down in front of the phone.

Alcina gave you a small smile before she dialled Mother Miranda’s number. You had tuned out most of their conversation, only ever jumping when Alcina would growl and pull you out of your thoughts. You didn’t let it bother you much, but you still closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm yourself down. It was going well until Alcina had slammed the phone down onto the receiver and threw it at the wall on the other side of the study.

You quickly got up and headed over to where she was seated, your heart beating fast. “Alcina?” You called out, but she ignored you. You called out her name again, attempting to rest your hand on her shoulder, but froze when hers shot out and grabbed yours.

Alcina slowly turned to look at you, her eyes narrow as she stared at you. Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved heavily. You let out a small whimper and tugged on your arm when her grip tightened. “Alcina, please, you’re hurting me.”

“I thought I specifically told you to stay at the desk.” Alcina growled. “But what can I expect from a clingy little mouse? I tell you to do one thing and you don’t listen. Do you need a punishment to help reinforce the rules, is that what you require? Answer me!” Alcina spat at you.

Your lip trembled as she spoke to you. Did she really think you were clingy? Your face flushed as your anger got a hold of you and you ripped your arm from her iron-like grip. “I hate you! I hate you! You’re just like them!” You didn’t realise you were crying until you had run out of the office and to Alcina’s room.

You hid in the closet, terrified of what she’d do if she found you. She wanted to punish you, she wanted to hurt you. You whimpered at the memories of what your parents did to you if you even so much as breathed in their direction. But your Alcina would never hurt you, would she?

You wrapped your arms around yourself, sobbing into your knees. “Clingy. She thinks I’m clingy.” You whisper to yourself. You sniffled and felt yourself tense at the sound of heels, Alcina’s heels. You burrowed yourself further into her closet, grateful for how big it was.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there.” Alcina rasped out. “Please, I’m sorry. Please, just come out.” You could hear the cracking of her voice. “When you said that you… you hated me, my heart broke, draga mea. I never wish to harm you. And when you compared me to those monsters you had to call parents, I felt sick to my stomach. I don’t wish for you to view me as you view them.”

“Alcina?” You replied softly, not moving from your spot. You heard rustling in the room before the closet door opened. “Alcina?” Your lip trembled again as you felt tears build up in your eyes again.

Alcina crouched down in the closet before crawling over to you. “Iubirea mea, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for the way I snapped at you, please?” Alcina asked as you crawled into her lap, burying your head in her neck.

You sniffled. “You… you called me cli-clingy. Yo-you h-hurt me, Ali.” You whispered into her neck.

“I never should have said that. I was just so frustrated with Mother Miranda and you… I never want you to see me like that again.” Alcina replied, pressing kisses to your forehead. You nodded into her neck, scooting down to lay in the crook of her arm. You were still crying softly as she caressed your cheek. “Shh, shh, little one, I’ve got you.” Alcina said as she brought one of her breasts out of her dress.

You squeezed it in a silent question and Alcina nodded her head. She let out a small sigh when you latched onto the nipple, putting you in a better position to get her milk.

“Never again, my love, I promise. Never again.” Alcina said softly as you drank from her. You felt your eyes start to droop as you suckled at her breast. “Rest now, little one.” Alcina pressed another kiss to your forehead, running her hand down your back as you fell asleep in her arms.

-----

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[bibliosophist]

Asmodeus with a mc who is insecure. They thinks they are not good enough for him and think he'd rather be with someone prettier. He find out and go's to comfort mc.

Tonight is the night. Panacea Skincare is having a launch party to celebrate their new line of products, and Asmodeus is the face of the campaign. He’s talked about nothing else but this party for a fortnight, and now it’s here.

The first thing you see when you enter the hall is a screen displaying a thirty foot tall photo of your boyfriend. In it Asmo is sprawled across a white marble bench set amid a lush, verdant garden. One of his milky white arms rests above his head, the other lays across his bare stomach. Only a swath of silky white fabric covers his hips. He’s lithe and lean, with both the indentations of his ribs and the toned planes of his stomach on display. Letters forming the words Panacea Skincare scrawl themselves across the bottom of the screen.

He squeals as he runs across the room towards his own likeness, pulling you along behind him.

“I can’t believe it! (Y/N), look, it’s me!”

“It’s you. You look incredible. I mean, you always look incredible, but you’re practically glowing.”

He giggles. “I know, right? They didn’t even alter the photograph at all. That’s one of their principles- no retouching. Panacea wants everyone to know that they’re honest and authentic. But,” he grins, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “why not stack the deck in your favour, right? That’s why they came to me. Who else has skin this close to flawless?”

You smile and squeeze his hand. “Nobody.”

“Exactly! Darling, would you mind taking a picture of me with me?” he asks, striking a pose next to the photo. He leans forward slightly, one hand braced on his thigh while the other throws a peace sign. He winks at the camera.

You snap a half dozen photos of him from different angles. You know what Asmo means when he says “take a picture.”

A high pitched squeal breaks your impromptu photoshoot. When you whip your head around to the source of the noise, you find a beautiful young demon standing stock still, pointing at Asmo. “It’s him! It’s Asmodeus!”

In a matter of seconds, Asmo is engulfed in a swarm of admirers. Some hang off his arms, others clutch at his hands. One particularly enamored demon drapes themself over Asmo’s shoulders. Camera flashes sting your eyes- it seems that the entire room is desperate for a selfie with your boyfriend. You can just barely see Asmo’s amid the crowd. A perfect smile lights up his face- he’s absolutely in his element.

As the mass of demons around him continues to grow, you’re shunted to the edge of the room. You don’t really mind; it’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Being with Asmo means having to be okay with sharing his attention, and you've accepted that. Still, you can’t say that it doesn’t make your stomach twist when you see the gorgeous demon with their head on Asmo’s shoulder whisper something in his ear that makes the Avatar of Lust giggle.

You’re so preoccupied with watching the encounter that it takes you a moment to notice the two demons standing a few feet away from you, heads bent together over their drinks. It isn’t until you hear your name that your ears perk up.

“(Y/N)... Yes, that sounds right. (Y/N).” says one of the demons. They both have sleek, bottle glass green hair down to their waists and skin the colour of sun bleached canvas. Sirens, you think.

Beside them, their similarly striking friend snorts. “Even their name is common. I can’t believe Asmodeus, of all demons, has settled for that.”

“Maybe they’re more than meets the eye. You’ve met the other human, Solomon, right? They say he’s the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived.”

“Unlikely,” says the other one. They make no attempt to hide the way their eyes rove over you, or the way their lip curls before they continue. “If they had any kind of magical power, they’d spruce themselves up a bit. Would you be caught dead looking like that if you could help it?”

“No, I suppose not,” says the first, sipping at their drink.

You feel the blood rise to your face. It’s not like you haven’t thought the same thing yourself a thousand times since you started dating Asmo, but to hear it said out loud...

Ducking your head to hide the tears pricking your eyes, you make your way across the hall to the washrooms. Thank whoever designed this building, they’re single occupant. You lock the door behind you and, closing the lid of the toilet, sink down onto it.

They’re right. You know they’re right. You see the way eyes linger on you when you’re together. You went to high school, you know that look. The “what’s he doing with them” look. What did Asmo see in you? He could have his choice of lovers from any of the three realms. Even among humans, you’re... average. What does the most beautiful creature in existence want with average?

You feel the telltale sting of tears rising to your eyes just as a knock echoes through the small room. “There’s someone in here,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“(Y/N), it’s me.” Asmodeus.

“I- I’m in here.”

“Hon, open the door. Please.”

With a monumental effort, you push back the tears. Smoothing down the outfit you’d so carefully chosen for his big event, you cross the room and unlatch the door. As soon as the lock clicks open, he’s pushing his way into the bathroom and relocking the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, reaching for your hand. Instinctually you pull back. If he touches you now, you know you won’t be able to hold the tears in. He looks crushed. “(Y/N)? Did I do something?”

Well, crap. The very last thing you wanted to do was ruin this night for him. He’d been so excited. You couldn’t have him thinking that this was in any way his fault.

“No, no, of course not. I just- just have a headache, that’s all.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Really,” you say, turning away from him as the tears threaten to reappear. “Just go back out there, I’ll be fine in a few min-”

A warm hand on your waist spins you around. “I thought we promised never to lie to each other. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

The look in his eyes as they try to catch yours pushes you over the edge, and before you know it you’re sobbing. He pulls you to him, rubbing his hand over your back in slow circles. You pull away, knowing that your tears will leave ugly marks on his beautiful shirt. When you try to say as much he shushes you, pulling you against him even tighter. “To hell with the shirt. What happened?”

Knowing there’s no way you’ll be able to brush this off now you relay what you overheard the Sirens saying. “And the worst thing Asmo, the very worst thing is that I know they’re right. I know it. And I know that someday you’ll leave me, and-”

“Is that really what you think of me?”

“W-what?”

“Do you really think I’m so shallow?”

“No, I didn’t mean- it’s just that you’re so beautiful. You could have anyone- absolutely anyone. Why would you settle for someone that isn’t your equal? Or as close to your equal as anyone could get, because I mean-”

“Stop,” Asmo says, cutting you off. “Listen to me. Normally I’d love nothing more than to listen to you babble about how beautiful I am, but not while you’re being so ridiculous.” He sighs. “I’ve had a lot of lovers, (Y/N). I’ve been with beautiful creatures- Demons, humans, even angels. But,” he runs his hands down your arms, slipping his hands into yours, “None of them were you.”

“So what, you’ve had your fill and now you’re ready to slum it?” You know you’re being belligerent, but you can’t help it.

“I absolutely did not say that, and you know it. I do think you’re beautiful, (Y/N). Of course I do. But that’s not why I love you. I love you for you. Do you only love me because I’m beautiful?”

“No,” you mumble, “but it’s a nice perk.”

The vibrations of his chuckle tickle your cheek. “Darling, in my long, long life I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Helen of Troy didn’t make my heart stutter like you do.”

“You dated Helen of Troy?”

“‘Dated’ Is a strong word, and that’s a story for another time. Please believe me when I say you’re the one I want to be with.”

You sniffle one final time, squeezing his fingers in yours. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. And, once I’ve taught those Sirens how to accessorize with their own intestines, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you on my arm. What do you say?”

[euphoriic-dysphoria]

Blue hair - Bucky Barnes

Firs time posting something like this on Tumblr, I welcome constructive criticism, anything to make my writing better and easier to read. As long as you're not an ass about it.

Summary: you've wanted to dye your hair for sometime now, but you're too scared to do it all by yourself and it seems like a whole big thing now that you keep kinda wanna do with a friend. Yes I'm projecting😅😅

THERE MIGHT BE A PART TWO, NOT REALLY SURE YET.

Warnings ⚠️ : none, just extreme flustered bucky, whipped bucky, fluff ig yeah. Without further ado,

Bucky was falling for you. Hard. He fell more each and everyday, but somehow, you were either not into him at all, or painfully oblivious.

He said painfully, because everytime you expressed even the slightest discomfort, even if on the Quinjet you just couldn't fall asleep, bucky just had this inexplicable urge to suddenly bring you all the pillows in the world to make you happy and laugh and smile your beautiful smile.

Bucky wasn't stupid. He'd seen how smart you were on missions, and how fast you'd solved riddles to annoy Tony. You would never be oblivious to things like this. He'd long ago accepted that he was just gonna be a friend to you, of course that didn't stop him from daydreaming about you, or freezing up everytime you brushed your arm with his.

After all, some might assume what with bucky falling head over heels for you (literally, but that's a story for another time, including Sam and being at the beach) that you guys were probably best friends or at least pretty close. Nope. Bucky was embarrassed to say that you stole away all his old fashioned Brooklyn charm the minute you were in a 2 meter radius. He was so nervous he stumbled over his words and opted to just stay quiet and enjoy your presence.

Of course, you thought that bucky was just naturally shy, and well- akward. It never occurred to you that you were the cause of that shyness, but you didn't mind. You found it endearing and utterly adorable the way a pale pink would wash over his features, and brush across his nose.

Today, he was utterly relaxed, pink free, in his room in the Avengers tower, reading and trying to get the thought of you out of his mind. That was hard when abruptly a hard knock sounded at his door, and he was just about to turn around and ignore it, when he heard you mumbling and thinking outside. Supersoldierhearing

Closing his book, he straightened up and furrowed his brow, thinking as to why you'd be outside his room. He hoped everything was alright.

"buckkyyyyyyyy! Woa-hiya, how are YOU on this verrrry fine morning?" You stumbled into his room, bucky was so deep into his thoughts he wasn't aware he opened the door so suddenly, you almost fell in.

A whirlwind of chaotic energy, you recovered quickly and jumped about, before turning back to where bucky was frozen at his door.

You were only wearing a T shirt.

Now, it was 7 in the morning, and most of the avengers were well aware that you walked around in a t-shirt in the mornings, well, only Steve and Nat cause they were the only ones that woke up then. Normally, bucky wakes up earlier to do his run, and so by the time you wake up, he's showered and reading in his room.

Shaking his head a bit to uh, clear up his thoughts, he quietly trudged back to his bed, where you were sitting and excitedly bouncing up and down on.

You gave him a good morning half hug, as you were practically buzzing with energy.

Oh. That alone was more that enough to make Bucky's cheeks start to glow a dusty pink.

However, you were already setting up the boxes of hair dye on his night stand.

"ok. Alright buck, are you ready for maybe the most important decision of your lifetime?? Ahem-" Buckys eyes widened as you did a little drumroll, jiggling your thighs and bringing up your shirt a bit, but you were too absorbed in the boxes you didn't even notice.

In your best announcer voice, you looked at him and grinned. "Blue, or red?" Holding up each colour respectively.

Huh? Bucky was so focused on your smile he practically missed what you said, which would've been hella embarrassing.

"uh- I'm not- where is this coming from?" Bucky almost winced at his voice, coming out hoarse and deep.

With an angelic smile on your face a devil would fall for, you patiently explained the hair dye situation. You wanted to dye your hair. Check. You already bought the hair dye. Check. And last but not least, now you were waiting on one of your friends to reply to you about dying their hair too. This wasn't a demanding act, for you only hit up the people you knew also had wanted to dye their hair too.

"i-i uh whyreyaaskingme?" Oh god. Before Bucky had anytime to mentally smAcK himself for mumbling like that, you were already replying.

With a soft smile you said, "well of course I'm asking you buck, I don't think it's very nice to knock on people's doors at 7 in the morning unless they're awake, and Nat and Steve left together to get coffee. Plus, I trust your opinion, I'm sure you have an excellent sense of style." You teased, reminding him of the time he refused to wear a ridiculous suit that Tony had jokingly, not really, designed.

Buck sighed quietly, as you made your way to the bathroom to compare the colours. Ouch. It was never a nice feeling to know you had come to him out of necessity. Little did he know, you had earlier rushed Nat and Steve straight outta here, in attempts to build a closer bond with bucky. Those two just shared a smug little knowing look, before hightailing it right out of the tower.

Lost in his thoughts, bucky didn't realize you had stopped muttering to yourself about the hair colours.

It was quiet. Too quiet. In the bathroom, there was absolutely no sound.

Bucky frowned, making his way over, and knocked on the door.

"can-uh do you mind if I come in?" Bucky knocked.

The door creaked open, and Bucky peeked inside to find your dejected expression and little pouty lips as you sat on the edge of the sink counter, scrolling through your phone.

"hey- wh-whats wrong doll?" Aw jeez. Cut it out, he said firmly in his head. Stop stuttering, just talk to her like a normal person.

"you- wanna tell me why you're looking like a sad puppy down over here?" Bucky's breath hitches as he's in the middle of berating himself for comparing you to a puppy, when you finally look up and meet his eyes, droplets threatening to leak and break past your waterline.

Bucky's heart just about cracks at the sadness radiating off of you. As far as he knows, you of all people should never have to feel this sad. All nervousness forgotten, he quickly bends down and tilts your chin up, tenderly wiping away the tears that have now started their journey down your cheeks.

It's been 5 minutes of you and him, leaning against each other as he wipes away the quiet tears that keep replacing each other.

Finally, in a quiet voice, you explain. At first it was just the dissapointment of no one wanting to really dye their hair with you. But you understood. Really, it was early in the morning, and it was easy to see why people didn't wanna dye their hair right away, or at all even. You completely and totally respected them and their choices. But then, you thought, maybe they're annoyed at me. Maybe, they don't like me anymore. Maybe they wish I'd leave them alone. Maybe they'd be better off without me.

You were well aware you were spiralling, but after the negative thoughts started, it was hard to stop. You had anxiety of these types of things.

Countless times, Nat and Wanda had had to reassure your wanted presence and that the team did love you.

While you were explaining, Buckys arms slowly snaked around to embrace you, and put his chin on top of you head. He was sad, simply because you were.

But listening to your thought process made him realize that you were human too, and it opened his eyes to listen to your anxiousness, no matter how much it still hurt.

Uh oh. The feeling was coming back, tugging at bucky, eating him away, making him want to do anything to make you happier.

Tightening his arms around you one last time before releasing you, he blurted, "uh- I'll dye m-my hair."

Your eyes widened. A small smile slowly creeped onto your tear streaked face. "Yo-you'd do that f-for me?" You hiccuped.

Holy shit. Oh man. Bucky would've tattooed his face if it gave you that little glowing smile and hopeful face you were giving to him now.

"Oh doll. You wouldn't believe what I'd do for you."

PART TWO IS NOW UP

[just-a-normalpersons]

Soulmates

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: Angst

AN: Soulmate AU in which your soulmates last words to you are written  on your wrist

You couldn’t stop staring at the words on your wrist. I love you. It seemed like the universe was trying to play a cruel joke on you. How could those be the last words you will ever hear your soulmate say. You had always been scared of commitment, but now you were absolutely terrified of love.

That was until you met her. She entered your life like a whirlwind of red, and you had no choice but to get swept up in it. The second Clint introduced you to the newest member of the Avengers, you knew you couldn’t escape your fate anymore.

No one had ever left an impression on you like Natasha Romanoff did. The first few weeks, you couldn’t seem to compose yourself around her, sending shifting glances all around the room whenever she would enter, shifting your weight from side to side and picking at your small silver watch.

Natasha being the world-class spy that she is, caught onto your nervousness quite quickly and made it her mission to give you more attention than the other Avengers, simply because she thought it was adorable how easily flustered and nervous you got around her.

Once you started to be more at ease around her, you started to know the red-headed assassin better, seeing sides of her that no one else did, which only made your feelings towards her grow.

After a few months, the two of you got send on a mission in Russia together. Everything went south quickly and the two of you ended up having to hide out in a small cabin in the middle of the forest, snowed in, with no way to get back to America. You spend most nights talking on a small brown leather sofa in front of the fireplace in the living room.

Natasha found a large bottle of vodka hidden away in the tiny corner cupboard in the kitchen, and one night when you both drank too much, one thing lead to another. When you woke up the next morning, Natasha still had her arms wrapped around your naked frame, and after that night the two of you officially started dating.

Now, 3 years later, you were hopelessly in love with her, which is why you were staring at the words on your wrist. You were still laying in bed, feeling Natasha’s hot breath on the back of your neck in a steady rhythm, indicating she was still asleep. All you could think about, was when it would end.

It could end any moment. Whenever she told you she loved you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop. Was this it? Was this the end? Is your time together up? All you could do was hope it wasn’t.

Because you were still deep in thought, you didn’t feel Natasha’s arms tightening around your waist, signifying that she was awake. You got snapped out of your thoughts when Nat quickly turned you around so that you were facing her now. You still weren’t used to how she looked in the morning. The messy red hair splayed around her face, her green eyes looking like they could stare into your soul.

She pressed her forehead against yours and pressed you closer towards her.

“Good morning baby, what has gotten you so deep in thought?”

“Good morning Nat. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it, I was just daydreaming a little bit.”

You respond before pecking her lips. Nat slowly slides her hand into your hair and pulls you closer again, giving you another small kiss.

You and Nat get brutally interrupted from your relaxed morning in bed when your phone starts to ring, displaying Steve’s contact information on the screen.

“Just leave it baby, it’s just Steve, he can wait. This is our only day off, and I just want to spend the day relaxing with you.”

Nat tells you while trying to distract you by kissing your neck. You let your phone go to voicemail, but within seconds Steve is calling you again.

You let out a deep sigh and roll out of Natasha’s embrace, sitting on the edge of your bed while answering the phone.

“Y/N. Where are you? I need you and Nat to come to the compound now. There is an emergency and I need the two of you for a mission. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. I’ll brief the two of you once you’re here.”

With that Steve hung up, leaving you slightly confused.

“What did he want? Please tell me he didn’t just ask if we could do a mission on our one free day.”

Natasha asked you while rolling her eyes. Slightly annoyed at Steve for ruining your day off.

“I’m sorry Nat, he said it was an emergency and that he would brief us on the mission once we arrive at the compound.”

Natasha sighed while getting out of bed. She knew that this was the life the two of you signed up for, but she was still annoyed that her day with you got ruined. At least you would still be able to spend it together, just not in the way she had planned originally.

After a quick fifteen-minute drive during which Natasha broke multiple speed limits, the two of you arrived at the compound and found Steve for the mission brief.

“Finally. I need the two of you to check on Wanda and Clint. They went to check out an abandoned Hydra base yesterday, but we lost all contact with them, and the last information they gave us was that the base wasn’t as abandoned as we thought, so I need the two of you to retrieve Wanda and Clint and if possible the information they were send to collect.”

You nodded, feeling slightly worried for your two friends and teammates, even though you knew they were perfectly capable of handling themselves.

“The quinjet is waiting for you on the roof, it’s ready to leave when you are.”

Natasha went over the details with Steve once again before she grabbed your hand and the two of you started to make your way to the roof. You knew she was worried about your friends as well, which is why you gave her hand a slight squeeze in an attempt to reassure them.

After a quick flight which seemed to take ages, you landed in the middle of the forest, 10 minutes away from the base so that no one saw the two of you arrive.

Natasha exited the jet first, walking in front of you, leading the way. Once you arrived at the base, it seemed abandoned at first, but with the information Steve gave you, it seemed very likely that there were still Hydra soldiers inside.

Natasha was the first one to find the entrance, and the two of you quickly made your way inside. After having walked around for half an hour, you still hadn’t encountered any Hydra agents and there was no sign of either Wanda or Clint, making you slightly nervous.

After having checked most doors and hallways, you suddenly heard noises coming from one of the rooms. Natasha and you sneaked up to the room, both getting ready to fight, until you clearly heard the voices from the room.

Natasha kicked the door open, catching an arrow right before it hit her in the face two seconds later.

“Is this the thanks we get for coming to save you? If so, I’m never doing it again.”

Natasha jokingly tells a shocked Clint and Wanda. You make your way inside as well, checking both of them for any injuries, and once you realise, they’re both fine, you all decide to get out of the building as soon as possible.

Everything went fine trying to get out of the building, it was almost too easy. You didn’t encounter anyone, and it looked like the base was actually abandoned, which was not the case according to Clint and Wanda.

The second you opened the door to get out of the building, you realised why. A small Hydra army was waiting for you, ready to attack. You all quickly ducked behind the trees, trying to get cover while taking on Hydra soldier after Hydra soldier.

You kept making more miles towards the jet, and at one point you actually thought you were going to make it. You could see Clint and Wanda take on about thirty soldiers, which was the only obstacle between them and the jet.

On your left, Natasha was fighting around 15 soldiers, just like you. You managed to take most of the soldiers down, however, when you quickly glanced at Natasha to see how she was getting on, you noticed one of the soldiers pulling a gun on her while she was fighting three others.

Without giving it a second thought, you launch yourself forward, pushing Natasha out of the way of the multiple bullets that got fired her way.

Natasha quickly takes care of the remaining Hydra agents, before looking your way. You can see the panic in her eyes before you feel the pain. Natasha comes running towards you at the same time your knees give out and you slump forwards, not being able to keep yourself upright any longer, and Natasha catcher you in her arms.

“Y/N! No! Why would you do that you idiot! Stay awake all right, we’re almost at the jet, you’re going to make it.”

You can feel Natasha picking you up, while the world around you is starting to blur and the things that stand out the most are Natasha’s red hair and green eyes, that are starting to tear up, only amplifying the colour.

You could feel your eyes starting to close, the blood loss becoming too much. You vaguely hear Nat shouting towards Clint and Wanda to get the jet ready so that she can try to save you.

“Y/N! Open your eyes baby. Please, open your eyes. Listen to my voice alright. You’re going to make it out. This is not the end. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay awake for me okay? Please baby, please. I need you to stay awake. Don’t leave me please.”

You wanted to respond to her, but you just couldn’t do it. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and you could faintly feel Natasha press her hands on the wounds in your abdomen trying to stop the bleeding.

The ringing in your ears got louder, and Natasha’s voice started to fade. You could feel yourself slipping away and the last thing you heard before everything turned black was Natasha’s voice, filled with fear.

“….. Please baby, please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

[ogravensimp]

She is a Constantine

The one day this shitty hotel decided to have an out of order elevator', Zed cursed as she looked up to only see a beige trenchcoat coat fluttering like a flag as it raced up the far too many flights this overpriced building had installed.

"John! Aren't you just being paranoid?" Zed shouted after the man in front of her as she attempted to keep up with him, as well, also trying to get answers out of him—which is a hard enough task as it is when she actually has his attention.

They were supposed to focus on purging some low-level demons set loose when a couple of civilians somehow managed to dig up the original copy of the highly dangerous, "Grimorium Verum". Well, they managed to get the book, but they also attracted the attention of John's good ol' friend, Papa Midnite; who has been giving them quite a hard time but John managed to knock him out.

Zed believed that they did quite well against him but somehow he said something before he fell that set John running without a word back to the hotel room they rented.

"John!", she called out once again as they finally reached the floor they were staying on, but she only saw the tail of his trenchcoat as he took a sharp turn around the corner, "seriously, you are being very-"

She cut herself off when she also reached the room they were staying in, only to find the door thrown off the hinges,"-...paranoid."

John was already inside, his back to her as he worryingly looked around at the ransacked room that had been perfectly fine when they left. Zed knew it wasn't the mess that had him anxious, it was the lack of a certain half-demon whom they had left watching some pony cartoon on the now overturned couch. The show was even still playing, but not even a tuft of the girl's purplish hair to be found.

"I should have known he'd just trace the magic back here, how could I just live her alone with the one thing Papa Midnite will kill for!" While it seemed John was talking to her, Zed knew he was actually berating himself, "Fuck, if he touched even a hair on her head I swear-"

"John," Zed softly approached him, wanting to calm the magician before he jumps so far to a conclusion that she or common sense won't be able to reach him anymore, "Papa hates your guts, yes but you and I know he'll never kill a child."

"What about his goons? Midnite distracted us and sent them here and I'm sure his goons would do anything not to fail him. ", John retorted as he began to scratch his hair with enough force it's as if he actually wanted to rip it out.

"She might still be here."

John finally turned to face her and Zed could now fully see the panic on his face. To a normal person, John looked irritated at most but Zed has been around him long enough to start to see the cracks in his poker face of sarcasm, "Look around Zed! If she was here, I'd fucking sense her!"

Zed felt a bit offended at his outburst, she didn't even know John had left the grimoire here! She thought the whole reason Papa was hexing them to next week was to get it off John but this seemed to be another of Constantine's genius plans gone wrong.

Putting her hands on her hips, she stood her ground, "And who's fault is that John? How could you just leave one of the most sacred dark-magic books with a child who thinks a show on the magic of friendship is the pique of entertainment?!"

John was never one to admit he was too blame chose to fight back, "I didn't know! I'm not fucking omnipresent! That's why I put up the bloody wards!"

"And look what good those did," Zed huffed as she folded her hands, "now they have the grimoire and have done god knows what with Raven."

"um..."

"Think I don't know that Zed because newsflash, I do!"

"Well, how do you plan to fix it!"

"...actually..."

John moved towards what was left of his books on the table and picked up a piece of chalk, "I don't know, fuck, I can try to trace her magic. She has a naturally high amount of it, it'll be easy to find."

Zed followed after him, her anger now replaced with worry, "Maybe if I'm near something of her's I can get a vision, where's that teddy of her's that she's always with? The one that Nun made?"

A small pair of hands held out the purple bear in question, "here you go Zed."

Zed accepted it gratefully, "Thank you, Raven."

And then there was silence in the room.

Zed looked at the doll in her hand and then at the small face looking up at her and then back at the doll, then back at the face and this charade continued for a while till she shouted, "Raven!", causing the little girl in question to giggle.

This sound alerted John who looked up from the symbols he had already begun drawing on the floor. Before Zed could even move, John had rushed past her in a beige coloured blur and had the half-demon up in his arms in a well-deserved hugged.

"Oh my sweet blackbird, I'm so glad your ok,", John yelled while he spun Raven around and pressed warm kisses to her small cheek causing more giggles to escape Raven's throat.

This was an odd scene for Zed who was quite used to the silent little girl who hexes old ladies that try to pinch her cheek or pat her head.

In fact, the first time Raven allowed physical contact with Zed was when she held her hand in a crowded street one time, and while Zed knew it was only so the tiny demon wouldn't get lost in the much taller crowd, she still felt like some chosen saviour.

So Zed just really couldn't help the tinge of jealousy she felt knowing that John is an exception to this 'no-touch' rule whenever he pleases while she can only relish in the crumbs.

Raven must have sensed her feelings cause she turned to her and smiled— an expression Zed felt fit her angelic features more than the usual deadpan expression.

Giving a soft smile back herself, she placed a hand on the girl's soft face(which fortunately went unhexed), in a tender gesture and asked, "Rae you gave us a heart attack, where were you?"

The dark-haired girl just tilted her in confusion before replying with a simple, "the closet." and pointed in the direction of said object.

Both Zed and John looked at the small cabinet that she was implying and couldn't help but be entertained as it was such a childish yet genius choice of hiding.

But the entertainment didn't last long as they realized something would have had to cause her to go into hiding.

Setting her down on the table, John and Zed immediately began to check her pallid skin for any injuries and to their relief, there was nothing major. The only damage to her delicate skin was a bruise on her knee but that was enough for John to demand a full breakdown of what exactly happened so he can know how many bones of Midnite he needs to break.

After 10 minutes, Zed and John had the full story of what happened while Raven nibbled on a chocolate bar she rightfully earned.

"So let me get this straight, you sensed about four guys approaching here and before they arrive, you grabbed Mr Teddy here, ran into the cabinet and stayed there till you heard us arguing, and you only bruised your knee cause you bumped yourself when crawling in?" John confirmed.

"Yep."

"You should've grabbed a phone and called us or something,", Zed muttered as she rubbed a chocolate stain off the girl's chubby cheek, "what if they saw you? Next time teleport to me and John immediately, got it."

Looking down, Raven softly replied, "Yes Zed."

"Oi, lay off her," John joked as he placed a big hand on her head, lightly messing up her dark-purple locks much to Zed's annoyance cause she is the one that combs her hair out every morning but before she can complain, John sighs, "Shit, Midnite still has the Grimoire, just great."

Zed was going to sigh with him when Raven let out a sheepish, "well...", reaching for the toy that Zed had been holding onto, she wrapped her hands around it and after some muttering, a ray of purple surrounded its form and it transformed into the exact tome that John and Zed had worked so hard to find and keep safe, "...I had been practising glamour spells before the guys arrived and thought this would be a great time to test it and I guess it worked."

Her wide violet eyes looked up at them as if looking for praise and they really did want to give it to her but they were just so shocked by her to speak.

John was the first to react and a wide grin broke out on his face, "You are a Constantine!"

He relaunched his attack of hugs and kisses to Raven's temple, this time Raven acted annoyed and tried to push him away but her blooming blush and the sound of a few lamps exploding betrayed her and showed her real emotions.

Zed still only looked at the book in her hand, remembering how it had felt and weighed the exact same you'd expect a knit teddy bear too. She just couldn't wrap her head around how such a young girl was already so talented with magic that it would put some adults to shame but before she could stay on the topic the sounds of Raven's voice brought her back.

"Ew, let go of me!" She whined as she used her small hand to try and push John's face away but that would not deter him and instead, he laid a lick to her palm which only infuriated her more as the window near them cracked, "GROSS!"

Zed couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Those two were really something. Dropping the book on the table, she went to go save her little Raven away by pulling her away before she ends up blasting John through a room— so maybe she's actually saving John.

As for her previous question, the answer was simple:

She's a Constantine.

____________________________________

"Now, what's the meaning of this?" Papa Midnite's voice was deep and loud to achieve its purpose in causing shivers to run down his lackey's spine as he held up a purple, knitted bear with different sized buttons for eyes.

One of them managed to gain some confidence and he dropped to the floor at Midnite's feet to plead for himself and his brethren, "Papa, I swear, it was definitely the book you asked for, we don't know what happened!"

Papa growled, "I know that, I'm wondering how all you managed to get tricked. Not even by Constantine himself but by a child!"

"But there was no kid there we checked everywhere, honest Papa!"

Midnite just sighed as he fell back onto his seta, rubbing the bridge between his nose as he contemplated whether to get better men or if he simply was the only one capable of doing things right around here.

As he grumbled, the purple toy in his hands caught his eyes.

He thought it was just the supernatural world being bored when he heard that the John Constantine adopted a little girl but this doll proved the rumours through.

If this child was also as terrifying as the rumours say, it was best Papa met her soon before another card to Constatine's deck is added in which he cannot compete with.

part 2 soon? probably but only cause I wanna right midnite & raven interaction